Chapter 145 - 67: Post-Match Interview

Chapter 145: Chapter 67: Post-Match Interview

"WOO-HOO!"

Verstappen stopped the car in front of the number one board, climbed out excitedly, and stood cheering. He pumped his arms fiercely a couple of times before jumping down from the car and rushing toward the team members who had come out in the rain to celebrate.

After hugging several crew members tightly, he turned and walked over to the newly parked car number 32. He lifted his visor, ignoring the heavy rain, and shouted, "Hey! I won!"

Wu Shi also climbed out of his ride and nodded. "Yes, you won! Congratulations!"

The two high-fived, shook hands, and then hugged, patting each other on the back.

"I knew you would hit the brakes on purpose," Wu Shi said.

"That’s quite a coincidence. I also knew you’d know I would brake on purpose," Verstappen said with a smile.

"Hahaha! Because I used this method to shake off the guys behind me."

Wu Shi laughed heartily. He thought, "Your trick didn’t work on me, but my use of the exact same trick worked perfectly, which goes to show my timing is still superior!"

After weighing in, Verstappen took off his helmet and balaclava. "Actually, you didn’t have to do that. You would’ve pulled away from them after a few corners."

"Of course, but I just wanted to give it a try. That way, I know how to avoid this situation when I’m the one in the back," Wu Shi said. He didn’t just do it to box Jordan in; that guy wasn’t worth wasting 0.2 seconds over.

"You were thinking that far ahead? Keeping control of the car under those conditions must have been incredibly difficult," Verstappen said.

"Yeah, I overused my brain just now, and now I’ve got a headache." Wu Shi shook his head.

Reporters soon swarmed in, beginning their interviews in batches. Since Verstappen had won the championship, they naturally questioned him first.

"Hey, Max, your lap times were quite fast today. You pulled off a brilliant pole-to-win and secured the victory. How are you feeling right now?"

"Ahem, yeah, the track conditions were extremely complicated today. The rain got very heavy toward the end, so I had to maintain strict control over the car. Furthermore, during the last three laps, Wu Shi was catching up, and I felt a tremendous amount of pressure."

"Yeah, but you withstood the pressure and defended your position beautifully! Is this your first time beating Wu Shi on the track?"

The reporter’s words turned incredibly cheeky; they always loved asking these kinds of stinging questions. However, the good thing about Verstappen was his sheer honesty. He replied, "It probably isn’t the first time, but beating him is indeed very difficult. Anyone racing against him has to be prepared to have the championship snatched away, even if he doesn’t start from the front row."

"It seems you believe Wu is the stronger driver? You appear to hold him in very high regard," the reporter continued.

"Of course I do. He’s the strongest driver of our generation, capable of putting down lap times that the rest of us simply can’t touch. If anyone still says I’m better than him at this point, they must be someone who pays absolutely zero attention to racing and only cares about race and ethnicity."

Verstappen’s brutally sharp words made the reporter stumble for a moment, but as a seasoned journalist with sufficiently thick skin, they quickly recovered and said, "Max, congratulations once again on today’s victory!"

After expressing his thanks, Verstappen took a towel and began wiping the sweat and rain from his face. The reporters immediately shoved their microphones toward Wu Shi.

"Wu, you started from tenth place today and ultimately made it to the podium. Your overtakes were a joy to watch, but it’s quite a pity you didn’t take the win."

"Yes, Max is exceptionally skilled in wet conditions, and I simply couldn’t find an opportunity to pass him. His performance today was truly perfect," Wu Shi told the reporters before turning to Verstappen. "Max! Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Verstappen replied cheerfully.

Seeing the interaction between the two, the reporters knew that their childhood bond was extraordinary. Several attempts to ask divisive questions had failed to fish out any major headline. It wasn’t necessarily that they enjoyed acting this way, but rather that the recent drama between the two Formula 1 Mercedes-Benz drivers had been blowing up. With every Grand Prix that passed, the rift between those two drivers only seemed to widen.

"We saw you launch an attack on Verstappen toward the end. If you’d been given a few more laps, would you have been able to overtake him?" the reporter asked, completely unfazed.

"These kinds of ’what-ifs’ and hypothetical assumptions are completely meaningless, aren’t they?" Wu Shi replied with a smile. Unlike Verstappen, he couldn’t quite bring himself to spout such profanity-laced remarks.

"There are thirty-three races this season, and seventeen have taken place so far. You’ve claimed fifteen victories in total, drawing closer and closer to your preseason goal of twenty-one wins. Could you reveal anything about a potential seat now?" the reporter asked, throwing out the question everyone cared about the most right now.

Wu Shi fell silent for a moment before saying, "I believe it’s still too early to talk about these things. Focusing on finishing the remaining races well is far more important."

"Oh? Is it because the other party is no longer honoring their agreement? Or, as the paddock rumors suggest, will you be heading to the Mercedes-Benz Team?"

"You really should be asking my agent about that, not a kid who isn’t even sixteen yet." Wu Shi politely deflected the reporter’s pressing inquiry.

After ending the interview, Wu Shi let out a long breath. The questions these reporters asked were becoming increasingly tricky, but once he reached Formula 1, they would become even more terrifying. He remembered one year when a reporter from the Los Angeles Times had asked Verstappen, Perez, and Leclerc some highly sensitive questions at the Saudi Arabia Station. At the time, Lock had fallen into their trap and given a less-than-perfect answer. Many reporters loved laying verbal traps, only to publish a heavily out-of-context press release under the guise of "not taking things out of context." It was just the usual media hype.

"It might rain again during the next race," Verstappen said on their way to the podium.

"Well, it looks like I’ll be able to catch up to you very quickly, then."

"No, I think it’ll be tough. Getting trapped in the middle of the pack is incredibly dangerous," Verstappen said, shaking his head.

"True. It’s almost like they have no idea how to drive in the rain." Wu Shi sounded somewhat helpless.

Racing wasn’t simply about grinding out hot laps; it was the result of multi-faceted tactical games. Even Wu Shi wouldn’t dare claim that starting from the front row guaranteed him a Formula 3 championship. The consistency he currently possessed, which vastly outclassed his peers, was nothing more than a legacy left over from his previous life.

The weather forecast turned out to be wrong. By the time the awards ceremony took place, the rain had gradually stopped. Beneath the gloomy sky, the melodious tune of the Holland national anthem echoed across the circuit.

At 3:30 PM, the final race at the Norisring began.

By this time, aside from a few puddles on some of the outer lines, the track surface had mostly dried up. This was undoubtedly worse news than the rain. Just as Wu Shi had mentioned earlier, very few of these F3 drivers were capable of handling their cars well in wet conditions. They were like completely different people compared to how they drove on dry asphalt. And a track that was half-dry, half-wet would undoubtedly lead to even more severe errors in judgment from these drivers. They would mistakenly believe they could push the pace, only to find the grip far worse than usual. Unable to master this delicate balance, all that awaited them was a total loss of control.