Chapter 370: 370: Lighting Up Hope: Master of Speed

The air inside the garage grew still.

Lu Cheng and Jiang Mo were not wearing team headsets, so they could not hear the pit wall radio transmissions. But they could see Laurent Mekies, Jock Clear, and the rest of the senior engineers stand up from their chairs, raising their chins as they stared at the live broadcast monitors with glowing eyes.

One by one, every single engineer and mechanic in the Ferrari garage rose to their feet.

Even Franquipeni and the backroom PR staff stood up, creating a quiet, powerful sense of unity that rippled from the back of the pit box all the way out to the gantry.

To an outsider, Ferrari simply looked like a team preparing to celebrate a massive Grand Prix victory, standing proud in the face of political accusations and technical scrutiny. But Jiang Mo knew better. She looked over at Lu Cheng, exchanging a silent glance. Though neither of them could fully put it into words, a deep, undeniable emotion took hold. They both squared their shoulders, linking their hearts with the team in that single moment.

On the broadcast feed, car No. 22 appeared on screen.

There were no technical issues and no dramatic incidents. On the surface, everything looked entirely normal. Kai was continuing his lonely, relentless charge at the front, leading the race by a massive margin.

Lap 40 — four laps remaining until the checkered flag.

“Kai is demonstrating remarkable maturity once again,” David Croft noted over the airwaves. “A level of poise and composure that belies his young age. Although he faced immense pressure during the opening stint, he completely took control of the race after surviving Mercedes’ strategic assault in the second stint. It is a masterclass in pace management.”

“He has now established an eight-second cushion over his teammate Leclerc, and his lead over Hamilton is well past ten seconds,” Croft continued. “He is sprinting toward his fourth Grand Prix victory of the season in dominant fashion.”

For a moment, neither Croft nor Martin Brundle quite understood why the broadcast director had cut to Kai’s isolated car. Kai was running in clean air at the front, effectively in garbage time. In TV terms, watching a race leader cruise alone on track was usually a recipe for a quiet, sleepy broadcast.

Yet as commentary professionals, their job was to keep the audience engaged regardless, bouncing observations off each other to fill the airtime.

“Without a doubt, this is a statement victory!” Croft added. “Throughout 2019, the pole position curse has haunted the paddock. Barcelona was the sole exception where the pole sitter actually won. In the other eleven races, pole position translated into defeat. But today, following Hamilton’s win from pole in Barcelona, Kai is about to repeat the feat right here at Spa!”

“Heading into the summer break…”

Brundle started to offer his tactical assessment of the drivers’ championship, but the words died in his throat. He stared at the timing monitors in total disbelief.

Croft paused, waiting for his broadcast partner to finish. Silence on air was a rare blunder for a veteran like Brundle.

Instinct took over as Croft tried to bridge the gap seamlessly. “Obviously, the Belgian Grand Prix is proving to be a critical turning point for the championship battle…”

“Kai has just gone purple!”

The words burst out of Croft’s throat as he suddenly realized what the graphics meant. Dropping his usual restraint, he spun around to look at Brundle in absolute shock.

Brundle finally found his voice.

“Yes, you are not seeing things! A 1:46.118! Kai is setting fastest lap after fastest lap!”

“But why?”

“With only a handful of laps remaining, with victory virtually guaranteed, and with no material benefit to gain by lowering his sector times, Kai is pushing his car to an entirely new limit…”

Brundle’s voice cracked slightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He fought to keep his composure, forcing the words out with everything he had left.

“I still remember Spa back in 2017,” Brundle said quietly. “Ferrari handed a seventeen-year-old GP3 driver a seat in First Practice. Nobody in the paddock could hide their surprise, including me. Especially when we watched that young kid keep his foot pinned flat down the Kemmel Straight, charging at three hundred kilometers an hour just to feel the raw thrill of pure speed. Everyone smiled at his boldness.”

Ah, to be young.

Brundle glanced at Croft, who gave a solemn nod of agreement as the memory rushed back.

“None of us predicted that this fearless, innocent teenager would step straight into Formula 1, shock the motorsport world with his unbelievable talent, and go on to win the World Drivers’ Championship last season.”

“That kid was Kai.”

“He emerged as an underdog, completely shattering the paddock’s expectations, and redefined what racing passion meant. And today… right here, right now…”

“Kai has summoned the ghost of that young rookie from 2017. Wild, reckless, unbound, and utterly fearless.”

“Who in their right mind risks everything to set the fastest lap in the closing stages of a race? Who pushes to the absolute edge when victory is already sealed? Who continues to beat their own track record when they already hold the fastest lap?”

“A fool.”

“Only a fool would do something like this.”

“Yet that is exactly what Kai is doing. He is chasing something that looks entirely meaningless, even foolish, to the outside world. But only Kai knows how much it truly means.”

“He isn’t chasing points, and he isn’t chasing glory.”

“He is chasing absolute speed. The pure, unadulterated essence of racing. He is reaching for the absolute limit, not just to reconnect with the passion that started his journey, but to finish the race that Antoine Hubert never got to finish.”

The words poured out in a single breath.

Brundle tried to maintain his professional voice, but the fire burning in his chest was impossible to suppress. By the end, his throat choked up completely.

From the very first lap of today’s Grand Prix, Kai had displayed an untouchable intensity. Fierce, relentless, and completely dominant. Nobody could stop him from taking this victory, not Mercedes and not Hamilton.

At first, Brundle thought Kai was driving with a chip on his shoulder over the engine legality rumors. But now he understood that political squabbles never mattered to Kai. Antoine was the only thing that mattered. The dream and the passion were all that counted. Kai was still that same wild kid who had disrupted the paddock two years ago.

Nobody truly knew how deeply Antoine’s crash had wounded Kai.

Until this very moment. Kai gave his answer not to reporters or fans, but to the asphalt beneath his tires: he was not afraid, and he would keep pushing the limits of speed no matter the cost.

Within the brilliant red of that No. 22 Ferrari, the baby-blue accents on his helmet shone like a beacon, guiding lost dreamers back toward their light.

Thump. Thump.

Brundle’s heart pounded against his ribs. He could feel Kai touching the very soul of Spa-Francorchamps.

Beside him, Croft sat stunned. He understood every word his partner spoke, but his mind could barely process the weight of the moment. His pulse raced as he watched the glowing red silhouette streak across the track, transforming a standard Grand Prix into a singular celebration of life.

Then the timing screen flashed again.

1:46.072!

Kai lowered the benchmark once more. His wild, unyielding drive illuminated the dark forest circuit of Spa. Every other car on track faded into irrelevance. The world belonged entirely to that single Ferrari, turning the circuit into Kai’s personal stage.

Unable to stop himself, Croft let his thoughts break through the commentary feed. He knew it was unprofessional, but some moments transcended the broadcast code.

“Antoine,” Croft called out softly, his voice trembling. “Are you listening?”

In a hospital room far away, Natalie was struck by a wave of raw emotion. Tears spilled over her lashes before she could stop them. She turned to look at her son lying motionless on the hospital bed, then straightened her posture, standing tall and resolute beside him.

François sat like a hollow shell, his mind completely numb. He could barely tell whether he was sitting or standing. His body felt weightless, his lips parted slightly as he stared blankly ahead.

Gradually, his eyes focused on the TV screen. Color, sound, and motion rushed back into his senses, kindling a spark of light in his empty pupils. François drew a deep breath, pulling himself up tall as his lost spirit returned to his body.

Beep…

Vroooom!

Beep…

Vroooom!

The cold, rhythmic beeping of the life support monitors merged with the roaring V6 engines blasting from the speaker, forging a shared heartbeat. A surge of overwhelming vitality erupted within the quiet hospital room.

It was the sound of a beating heart. The sound of life rushing forward.

In an sport often ruled by financial interests, corporate politics, and cold statistics, the racing world suddenly felt the pulse of genuine human spirit.

Across the globe, millions watched the screen. It was not just Natalie and François standing in front of their TV. In the grandstands surrounding Spa, spectators who could only see a fraction of the track felt the heavy, solemn power emanating from the No. 22 Ferrari.

Some laughed in disbelief, some cheered wildly, others stared in awe.

Driven by an irresistible surge of emotion, fans spontaneously stood up from their seats, scanning the track to spot that streak of blazing red.

A red that felt like a beating heart.

In that single moment, everyone united, listening to the heartbeat of Spa, trying to summon Antoine’s spirit back to the world.

From the drivers in their cockpits to the mechanics on the pit wall and the fans in the stands, everyone felt the raw passion. Like Icarus soaring toward the sun, Kai was chasing the ultimate limit at the cost of his own energy, bringing the true value of life into sharp, undeniable focus.

The TV broadcast suddenly cut to the pit lane.

In the Mercedes garage, fans held their breath. What happened?

Today had been a nightmare for Mercedes. The expected rain had failed to materialize, no Safety Car had been deployed, and the race had proceeded without chaos. For a team trying to pull off an upset, the lack of variables was disastrous. They desperately needed drama to spark an opportunity.

Had the chaos finally arrived?

“Oh no! Lando Norris’s McLaren appears to have a major issue!”

With just two laps remaining, retiring from the race was the ultimate heartbreaker.

Within seconds, the mystery was solved.

“Norris has pulled into the pit lane to retire the car!”

“Goodness, McLaren has suffered unbelievable bad luck today. Sainz was forced to retire on lap one with an unfixable mechanical issue, and now Norris suffers the exact same fate right at the death. Reliability has been their undoing today.”

“Sitting fourth in the Constructors’ standings, this is certainly not the start to the second half of the season McLaren had hoped for.”

The wave of technical failures that had plagued teams since qualifying was continuing. Red Bull was not the only team suffering; McLaren was taking a heavy beating as well. The dark undercurrents of the summer break were fully breaking out into the open.

Before those thoughts could settle, the broadcast feed cut back to the track, framing the race leader once again as Croft let out a gravelly shout.

1:45.976!

“Kai goes purple yet again!”

“The Ferrari driver continues to defy logic, entering the final lap of the Belgian Grand Prix in breathtaking fashion. He is sprinting toward his fourth victory of the season and his second win from pole position this year. What an unbelievable drive!”

“Nobody can touch him today. Nobody can even get close. The entire Spa circuit has become a solo performance for Kai.”

“My word…”

Croft tried to gather his thoughts, but his mind was completely fried.

He had never seen a driver like this. Not Senna, not Schumacher. Kai was built differently. So reckless, so unapologetic, yet so vivid and bright, single-handedly breathing life into a sterile paddock.

In an era where racing had grown increasingly cautious, where drivers were treated as mere inputs behind the wheel, where car performance overshadowed human skill, and where commercial interests threatened to reduce everything to cold numbers, Formula 1 had risked losing its wild, heroic edge.

And then Kai stepped onto the scene.

“Faced with political backlash from rival teams, engine legality rumors, and a media storm over the summer break, Ferrari looked like a team drowning in crisis,” Croft said. “To make matters worse, Kai’s close friend Antoine Hubert was involved in a horrific crash in F2, leaving his life hanging in the balance.”

“Everything seemed stacked against them. Their championship campaign was on the brink of collapse.”

“And yet…”

“Kai stood up.”

“From practice to qualifying and into the Grand Prix, he delivered absolute dominance, standing firm amidst the chaos and withstanding every attack Mercedes threw his way. He has gifted racing fans an unforgettable display.”

“Pole position, fastest lap, led every lap, and the victory.”

“Facing impossible pressure, Kai secures the very first Grand Slam of his Formula 1 career! And not just a Grand Slam — across three practice sessions, three qualifying segments, and every lap of this race, no driver managed to top his times. This is a Total Sweep!”

“One hundred percent dominance across the entire Grand Prix weekend!”

“Wow!”

Croft felt a chill run down his spine, his face flushed and his eyes glowing with tears.

“Three years ago at Spa, an unknown rookie quietly stepped onto the Formula 1 stage, grabbing everyone’s attention just as Michael Schumacher did decades ago, ensuring every team took note of his presence.”

“Three years later, that same rookie has grown into a World Champion, cementing his place among the absolute elite of the sport by securing his first career Grand Slam — the first of what surely will be many.”

“And we are privileged to witness history in the making!”

The words spilled out until Croft felt entirely drained. He took a deep, shaky breath, momentarily lost for words as his brain buzzed with adrenaline.

This race meant so much more than twenty-five points.

Beside him, Brundle took over smoothly.

“Unlike typical dominant performances, this was no boring procession,” Brundle observed. “It was an intense, wheel-to-wheel fight where the pressure from behind was constant. A single mistake could have changed everything.”

“Yet Kai met the challenge with unbreakable resolve. This Grand Slam carries immense weight, defending his reputation on track.”

“When the paddock arrived at Spa this weekend, everyone said a storm was brewing around Ferrari. But Kai stepped forward and gave his answer: he is the storm.”

“This is more than a win. It is a vital, emotional victory that will resonate for years to come.”

“In this moment, Kai is racing on behalf of Antoine and every young driver reaching for their dream!”

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed across the broadcast feed.

The cameras slammed to a new angle.

Croft and Brundle both froze. An Alfa Romeo had lost control in a high-speed bend, sliding sideways into the barrier at immense speed. Carbon fiber debris exploded into the air as smoke billowed from the wreckage.

The noise of the broadcast died instantly, the world feeling as if it had turned to black and white.

Croft sat rigid, reporting on pure instinct.

“An Alfa Romeo is off at Pouhon…”

“Antonio Giovinazzi has lost the car.”

His commentary trailed off into heavy silence.

Beside him, Brundle stared wide-eyed at the slow-motion replay of the Alfa Romeo spinning wildly off the track surface.

“A spin like that through Pouhon… something went severely wrong.”

Time seemed to freeze.

Over the Alfa Romeo team radio, the race engineer tried to keep his voice steady, though a tremor was obvious. “Antonio, are you okay?”

“…Yeah, I’m okay,” Giovinazzi answered, his voice remarkably calm.

A collective sigh of relief washed over the paddock. Croft exhaled heavily. “Thank goodness! That is the answer we all needed to hear.”

In the final two laps, mechanical failures and heavy crashes served as a stark reminder of the inherent dangers of Formula 1. It highlighted the incredible courage required for Kai to push the absolute limits when he had no mathematical reason to do so.

Every camera angle focused back on car No. 22 leading comfortably out front.

Isolated yet resolute, Kai tore through the shadow of Spa, lighting up the track.

Far behind the lead Ferrari, Leclerc and Hamilton were still locked in combat. Hamilton refused to surrender, maintaining pressure on Leclerc. The gap between them held at 1.519 seconds — outside DRS range, but close enough that any minor mistake from Leclerc would allow Hamilton to launch a late attack.

The tension remained taut right to the finish line.

Croft glanced at Brundle. “Lewis isn’t giving up, is he?”

Brundle exhaled slowly. “Kai didn’t just ignite the fire in our chests, Croft. He made this one of the most important races of the entire season.”

In the Ferrari pit garage, Jock Clear couldn’t hold back any longer. Overwhelmed with emotion, he bolted from his console and sprinted toward the pit wall, vaulting onto the wire fence overlooking the front straight.

Behind him, a wave of red-clad Ferrari team members surged to the barrier, their raw energy lighting up the pit lane.

Jiang Mo covered her face with her hands, hot tears spilling past her fingers.

Lu Cheng let out a roar of triumph, turning to comfort his wife a moment later. Throughout the high-stress weekend, Jiang Mo had remained composed and organized, anchoring the family amidst the media storm. But now, the dam had finally broken.

Lu Cheng felt his own eyes burn with emotion. He pulled Jiang Mo into a tight embrace, swallowing the words in his throat and gently patting her back as his vision blurred.

Jiang Mo composed herself quickly, wiping her cheeks, and followed the Ferrari crew as they rushed toward the pit wall.

Lu Cheng stayed right beside her. They pressed against the chain-link fence, staring down the main straight, waiting for car No. 22 to emerge from the final chicane — waiting for a spark of light, a symbol of hope, and a moment of pure redemption.

At the edge of the horizon, through the heat haze, a brilliant streak of red appeared. Blazing like a flame, it tore through the cool air, charging straight toward the Bus Stop Chicane and flashing across the finish line.

VROOOOOOM!

The roar of the V6 engine echoed down the straight as the checkered flag waved.

The grandstands erupted into thunderous cheers.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The final result of the 2019 Belgian Grand Prix is official!”

At that moment, dramatic words felt unnecessary. The raw simplicity of the achievement said everything.

“Kai wins in Spa!”

Watching the TV screen, Natalie felt tears pool in her eyes.

After crossing the line, Kai slowed his car on the cool-down lap. He raised his left hand and tapped the side of his helmet twice. Without a single word spoken over the radio, Natalie instantly understood the gesture.

Fly with Antoine.

Natalie took a deep breath, turning toward Antoine in his hospital bed with a proud smile.

“Antoine… Antoine! Did you see that? Kai did it. He won Spa, carrying your dream all the way to the top of the podium.”

“He said he’s waiting to battle you properly on track. He won’t hold back, so you better give it everything you’ve got. Are you ready?”

François stared at her with conflict in his eyes, his mouth opening as if to speak, then closing again.

Natalie saw his hesitation. She knew what he was thinking. Motorsport had brought their son to the edge of death. If Antoine ever woke up, should they really allow him to put on a helmet again?

Like François, Natalie simply wanted her son to survive. Tactical battles, championships, and speed limits no longer mattered to her.

Yet she also knew that racing was Antoine’s soul. Racing had brought him to this dark place, but racing was the only force powerful enough to pull him back into the light.

If her son woke up, she would support his dream once more, no matter how many sleepless nights it cost her.

Fly with Antoine was not just a phrase on a helmet. Kai had proven it on track, and now it was their turn as parents to keep the faith.