Chapter 108 - 38: What do you think of him?

Chapter 108: Chapter 38: What do you think of him?

JAWC, like the Van Amersfoort Racing Team, used Volkswagen engines. Normally, this engine would be perfectly fine, but when paired with the gearbox, it caused a chain reaction of vibrations that led to accelerated component deterioration.

So, how could one mitigate this deterioration?

By driving gently, of course.

But regardless of whether it was Bromquist or Verstappen, they were both championship contenders. Would they allow themselves to drive gently?

The result was obvious.

Their aggressive driving styles only accelerated the onset of mechanical failures.

As for Wu Shi, however, it was a different story.

His absolute perception and exquisitely fine control allowed him to avoid or reduce these vibrations, keeping his engine remarkably well-preserved.

WHOOSH!

Wu Shi sped along, a blur on the track. With a commanding lead and no competitive pressure, the load on his brain was as low as that on his engine and tires, leaving him free to let his mind wander.

The 22-lap race proceeded as usual. Collisions were constantly happening at the rear of the field, and drivers with poor car control would occasionally spin off the track. This was what made F3 more exciting to watch than F1—the back of the pack was incredibly unpredictable.

Thirty-five minutes, twenty-two point nine six seven seconds after the start of the race, Wu Shi crossed the finish line. After a cool-down lap, he parked his car in the designated area. Compared to their reaction at Silverstone, his crew members seemed remarkably unfazed.

Wu Shi was happy to see it. He walked over to high-five Alan, completed the mandatory weigh-in, and then removed his helmet.

"You mentioned during the race that you might know what’s wrong with the clutch?" As an engineer, Alan was naturally the most interested in this topic.

"Yeah, I have an idea. Let me walk you through it."

Wu Shi explained what he had sensed, translating it into terms Alan could understand.

Hearing Wu Shi’s assessment of the subtle meshing between the engine and the gearbox, Alan was astonished. His eyes lit up. "Your knowledge of mechanical engineering must be excellent."

"Huh, is it?" Wu Shi hadn’t really thought of it that way. While it was a given that a driver needed to understand subjects like mechanical engineering—F1 even tested drivers on this knowledge—he hadn’t realized his was anything special.

After all, a driver who only knew how to drive but couldn’t provide feedback on the car wouldn’t have a long career. Such a driver would be completely unable to understand why the car was fast or where it was lacking, making them unable to help engineers tune the vehicle and greatly diminishing their value to the team.

Then again, a driver with truly competitive speed must have a unique understanding of the race car. They had to be able to provide feedback on different setups; otherwise, they could never be that fast.

"Of course. You realized early on what to be careful of when shifting. That’s something the other drivers are completely unaware of. It gives you a definite advantage," Alan said with a nod.

It was no wonder Wu Shi hadn’t given the team feedback; from his perspective, this was a normal situation. He thought it was obvious that problems would arise if you weren’t careful.

’It seemed that maintaining his superhuman perception and control for so long had created a divergence between his way of thinking and that of an ordinary driver.’

"But as for the problem you described, we can only solve it with mechanical adjustments. No one else can control the car the way you do," Alan added.

"Then that settles it. I don’t need an engine change for now, either," Wu Shi said with a laugh.

"You could actually take a new engine for the next race. After all, starting from eleventh, you’re not in a great position anyway."

Alan shrugged. If they weren’t unable to immediately diagnose a feasible solution for the issue Wu Shi described, and if the third race weren’t only three hours away, he definitely would have insisted on an immediate engine change.

According to FIA regulations, an engine change penalty affects all three races of a race weekend.

In other words, if you change an engine during a practice session, you’ll receive a ten-place grid penalty for all three races of that same weekend.

But if you change the engine just before the third race, you only receive the penalty for that one race.

Also due to the short timeframe, Verstappen’s car wasn’t given a new engine, only repaired.

At three in the afternoon, the third race was about to begin.

Compared to the previous races, this one had an additional driver, bringing the total to twenty-seven. He was a driver from the United Kingdom named Hector Hurst.

He was a complete rookie, still familiarizing himself with the track. Having not participated in qualifying, he would naturally be starting in last place.

"We see that Wu, the winner of the first two races, is starting from just eleventh, while Verstappen has taken pole position. He actually qualified in second, but he’s been promoted because Bromquist had to change his engine and will also be serving a ten-place grid penalty."

"O’connor is to his left, and Jack in the yellow car is in third..."

"Oh! And the race is officially underway! We’re all hoping for a clean start... Antonio Focca is off to a great start!"

"Wait! No, Wu’s start is even better! He’s faster than anyone! He’s quickly squeezed into the middle of the track, he’s passed two of the yellow cars! He’s jumped up three places!"

"And, I think Felix’s pace is good too, he’s moved up into third place here!"

The commentator’s soaring, excited voice was infectious as he rapidly relayed every change at the start of the race to the audience.

Wu Shi had just made it to eighth place. But as he looked to make another pass, the situation on the track changed abruptly.

A group of cars on the inside were all braking late. For this crowd of inexperienced drivers, the only consequence was that they all ran wide!

Inevitably, he was squeezed out completely, forced right onto the grass.