Chapter 50 - 14: Sorry, I Didn’t Control My Race Car Well

Chapter 50: Chapter 14: Sorry, I Didn’t Control My Race Car Well

Sid and Seth exchanged a glance, suddenly realizing an issue they had overlooked for a long time. It seemed Wu Shi didn’t have a dedicated coach training him.

The team had previously hired a moderately well-known karting coach in Italy. But after a few weekend practice sessions, the coach said he didn’t need to do anything. Wu Shi was already setting times far beyond the record, and the coach felt he had nothing to teach the boy. Saying he couldn’t take money for doing nothing, he promptly resigned.

Ever since then, Wu Shi’s track practice sessions were guided by his own ideas. For example, he would always run a set number of laps on each of the different tire sets to be used in the race. He would also install and test-run any components that might potentially be replaced.

In his words, while every component might look the same, they all had subtle differences. If you didn’t test them, you’d never know which one was truly the best.

Seeing their expressions, Jos frowned. "It seems his coach isn’t here. I’m sure he must be an outstanding teacher. If possible, I’d like to meet him and have a chat."

Jos held out his business card. He was a very direct person. As the two men took the card, he asked another question. "I’m curious. Italy is the mecca of motorsports, so why have you come all the way here to race?"

Sid took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying, "Let me answer your first question first. To be precise, Wu Shi doesn’t have a dedicated coach. As you can tell, he’s from Hua Country. He only just arrived in Italy last year and immediately won the 60 MINI category championship with a clean sweep of all seven races."

"And if you’re asking whether anyone taught him how to drive on these tracks, I’d say no. After practicing on his own, he’s able to find the racing line that suits him best and take the victory."

"As for your second question, I want him to participate in famous events in various places to build his reputation and attract a top-tier team to recruit him. We were originally planning to go to France, but..."

Jos’s frown deepened. He cut Sid off, "You’re telling me he’s never had a coach?!"

"That’s right," Sid confirmed with a nod.

"My God! Good heavens, how is that possible!" Jos cried, running both hands through his hair and messing it up.

As Jos was reeling in disbelief, the young drivers returned to the pits. Wu Shi was walking over with Verstappen.

The two of them were chatting and laughing, though it was mostly Wu Shi who was doing the talking.

But upon seeing his father, Verstappen’s cheerful expression vanished. He immediately spoke up, "I think I drove that lap well enough."

"No! You messed up in at least three places!" Jos retorted, a hint of anger in his voice.

Hearing the angry shout, Wu Shi took a deep breath but said nothing.

Verstappen didn’t lower his head like a typical kid being scolded. Instead, he continued, "I know my line through turn four might not have been smooth, but I was held up."

Jos took a few deep breaths. He knew today’s incident wasn’t entirely his son’s fault; it was just his habit of demanding perfection that made him point out the issues so directly.

Even though he realized this, he remained stern. As a former F1 driver, he knew exactly what it took to become one of the very best.

The moment he saw the potential for a top-tier driver in his son, a plan had taken root in his mind. From then on, concepts like "kindness" and "affection" disappeared from his parenting. He would teach his son according to the most demanding standards.

Because in an extreme sport like motor racing, a thousandth of a second is enough to determine victory or defeat. If you give an inch here and an inch there, you’re throwing away any and all possibility of success!

"I’ll be watching your performance in the main race tomorrow," Jos said curtly, then turned and walked away.

Verstappen’s expression was as stubborn as an ox. He picked up his helmet and followed. Despite the harsh scolding, he showed no signs of resentful anger.

"He’s really mentally tough," Wu Shi remarked.

"Hm?" Sid glanced at him.

"If my father were that harsh and strict, I doubt I’d be racing karts," Wu Shi said.

Sid and Seth remained silent.

The main race arrived quickly. Wu Shi was on pole position, with Verstappen alongside him. He glanced over, just in time to see Verstappen turn his head to look back at him.

It was impossible to make out his expression or see his eyes under the helmet’s visor, but Wu Shi knew that this guy would stop at nothing to overtake him. He couldn’t afford to give him any opportunity.

The lights went on, then out. The race began!

The clutches engaged, and the karts launched forward.

VROOOM!

Wu Shi’s reaction time was on par with Verstappen’s, but Verstappen’s kart seemed faster. After all, it had been personally assembled and tuned by an F1 driver who ran a karting parts business.

However, starting from the clean side of the grid held an advantage over the dirty side. Wu Shi used his kart’s forward position to squeeze toward the centerline, defending his line as they barreled into the turn.

And just like that, he held his position through the first turn.

But this was no time to relax; Verstappen was still glued to his tail.

’He’s not making a move to attack.’

Feeling how close they were, practically touching, Wu Shi figured out Verstappen’s strategy. The guy’s offensive pressure was just a feint, designed to force Wu Shi onto the defensive and make him lose time, thus closing the tiny gap from the start.

’His instincts are incredibly sharp.’

After that brief thought, Wu Shi threw himself completely into his driving. Through the subsequent turns two, three, and four, he deliberately avoided taking the fastest racing line. He was well aware of Verstappen’s personality—the guy was notorious for his "torpedo" maneuvers in karting. He couldn’t give him an opening!

One lap, two laps, three laps went by. Verstappen had no opportunity to overtake; in fact, the gap between them had even widened slightly.

Jos watched the track, his expression calm, but his eyes were burning with intensity. He was clearly far from satisfied with Verstappen’s performance.

WHOOSH!

On the sixth lap, Wu Shi suddenly sensed a threatening presence. Glancing back on the straight, he saw Verstappen was just one kart-length behind him.

VMMMM!

Entering the corner, the rush of wind beside him suddenly intensified.

Fuck!

That bastard really just torpedoed me from the inside!

Wu Shi didn’t want to crash and retire from the race, so he had no choice but to swerve slightly, carefully controlling the kart to shift over just a little.

Seeing that Wu Shi chose not to hold his ground, Verstappen instinctively became bolder, squeezing in to complete the overtake. However, just two-tenths of a second later, he realized something was wrong.

’This is bad!’

’He only gave up enough of the racing line to force me to slow down to get through. He didn’t abandon the position.’

By the time this conclusion flashed through Verstappen’s mind, his kart had already slammed into Wu Shi’s.

The two karts were already side-by-side in the corner. The impact from the squeeze instantly caused the tires on Wu Shi’s kart to lose their lateral grip, sending him spinning out of control.

CRASH!

The kart slammed into the tire wall. The engine died. His race was over.

Wu Shi groggily shook his head. Even though he didn’t have a perfect "feel" for this kart, the force of the collision still jolted every part of his body. It felt less like the kart had hit the wall and more like he himself had.

When he finally came to his senses, someone walked over, lifted his visor, and asked in somewhat broken English, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," Wu Shi replied.

Verstappen helped pull him from the seat. "Sorry," he said. "I lost control of my kart."