My Formula 1 System

The yellow flag disturbance slowly wilted away, and the field had reclined again through the arteries of the circuit. Up ahead, the leaders who were barely disturbed were already several seconds clear, while the center battles continued to ripple unendingly.

Down in the pit lane, Elias Nystrom had finally returned to the circuit after the puncture that struck him at the castle section. The crowd acknowledged the impressive efficiency of Nordvind Racing’s crew as they had worked quickly to send him back as fast as possible.

But the damage had already been done. The lost time dropped him several positions down the order. And with the momentum the race carried, Nordvind supporters questioned if it was irreversible.

"...Elias Nystrom finally limps out of the pits, but his afternoon is certainly ruined. He’s falling right into the clutches of the backmarkers now, and his points finish has basically gone up in smoke..."

P15– Elias Nystrom←

Matteo Bianchi was on the same payroll.

Velocita’s pit crew had been systematic, but they couldn’t slow down other drivers.

P17– Matteo Bianchi←

Both drivers rejoined knowing they had been thrown into survival mode. With their finer cars, they could crawl out of the pit and get back into the competition in no time.

Up ahead, the race carried on. No DNFs. No retirements. Twenty machines still drove around in circles between flats, manors, and towers. Running eleventh, Albert Derstappen’s goal for the past few laps was to hunt down Max Addams, who had been jeopardized after the clash with Bianchi and Nystrom. But there was just this unshrinkable gap between them. Whenever Derstappen pinched the gap in the technical sectors, Max would simply park his car on the apex and prioritize his exit speed. No matter how much Albert leaned on his tires through the tight bends, Max always had the better launch onto the straights, keeping himself just out of reach.

Soon enough, Derstappen got a call to hold the fort.

What did that mean? The predator was now the prey.

He was under attack by Yokouchi Yuchiro. And even though it was clear they weren’t on the same level, it would be stupid of him to make the same mistake Di Renzo had just laps before by underestimating anyone.

**Get your elbows out, Albert. Gap to Yokouchi is zero-point-eight. He’s gaining three tenths a lap in the middle sector**

[11th Lap]

As quickly as the next lap reached, the Japanese Genius was in Derstappen’s mirrors. The home straight and DRS were just cherries on the cake for him Derstappen couldn’t deny. Soon, the Ferrari and the Audi slithered like a head and a tail through Sector 1

Instead of playing the patience card, Yokouchi went bold for P12.

At this point in the season, drivers like Yokouchi had nothing to lose. Since his car isn’t fast enough to win on pure pace, he relies on street smarts and being incredibly annoying to overtake. These kinds of drivers make up the unpredictability and chaos of the midfield, and almost all legends of the sport have had such identity at some point in their careers.

As Derstappen approached the apex, Yokouchi suddenly darted forward, attempting an optimistic squeeze through the narrowest point of the track.

For a moment, both cars froze side-by-side in a space meant for one. Derstappen instinctively checked his speed, the steering wheel jerking as he avoided direct contact. The two machines slowed abruptly in the middle of T5’s corridor, practically parking the track for a heartbeat as they tried to make the corner with 300% precision.

But just like what happened earlier in the race, Yokouchi had brought company: Desmond Lloyd, who had passively been on his trail the entire time.

Desmond Lloyd definitely didn’t plan to take advantage and overtake them, as Nystrom had attempted, but his presence within a second near them panicked both Yokouchi, Derstappen, and their engineers as they thought something similar from Lap 4’s chaos would unfold!

Believing Yūichirō wouldn’t risk it, Derstappen surged forward first into T6. But darn. The tense moment forced him to press on the throttle much harder than he intended.

The rear of his car drifted wider to where the barriers were expectantly waiting.

Scraraaaaaapee!

"WOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!"

Sparks flashed as carbon fiber scraped across brick.

The dazzling graze startled Yūichirō, who cleared away from his rival.

"....OH MY! ALBERT DERSTAPPEN CRUSHES HIS RIGHT SIDE INTO THE SECOND SECTOR!"

"I’ve hit wall! I’ve hit wall! Check the car! I think the rod is bent!" Albert bellowed as he wrestled with his Ferrari.

**Copy, Albert. We see the impact on the sensors. But you’re good. I repeat. You’re good. Keep it straight**

**Switch to Fail 2 and box when it doesn’t feel right**

Somehow, the car survived.

"Copy!"

"...that was millimeters from disaster! Jackson’s Racing star, Albert Derstappen, is still in the game. His blood must be boiling to a thousand degrees. Look at him go!"

"WOOOOOOOOHHHH!"

While some might view the damage to the Jackson Racing machine as a disaster, it actually handed them a tactical gift. When the car grazed the wall, the split-second hesitation at the corridor sent a violent accordion effect rippling through the field. Yūichirō and the trailing pack were forced to lift sharply to avoid a pile-up, causing the field to compress and bleed precious momentum.

By the time the drivers could finally bury the throttle again, the damage was done. The gap had stretched into a canyon. Up ahead, the top twelve cars had disappeared down the long Baku straights, already several seconds clear of the chaos. Behind them, the remaining eight machines were left scrambling to recover what was left of their afternoon. In one messy moment, the Azerbaijan Grand Prix had effectively split into two entirely different races, leaving the back half of the grid in a lonely fight for survival.

By the time the race crossed into Lap 15, the split in the field had fully taken shape.

Up front, the leading group continued their relentless charge, while behind them, the chasing drivers scrambled to minimize the damage the gap had created.

Among those still clinging to the edge of the points positions was Victor Surmann.