[TS] Formula One Streamer - Chapter 124
The atmosphere of laughter and chatter, genuinely filled with joy for the first project, the first attempt, and the first success of the year, quickly faded. This was due to the unexpected arrival of certain individuals.
Mattia Binotto, Logan, Shin Juhyun. The surprise visit from the three pillars supporting Ferrari.
The three approached with genuinely pure and joyful expressions, like survivors who stumbled upon an oasis while wandering parched in a desert.
“Everyone did a great job. Especially the suspension project team did really well. If you carry on like this, we might not even need to touch the engine?”
With a frivolous joke, Binotto embraced each of the staff, celebrating their success and hard work. Yet, the comment about not needing to touch the engine crossed the line.
“We’re going to adopt this hybrid suspension as it is, so from now on, make sure the design is optimized for this system. Whether it’s the front wing, rear wing, or air duct, everything related to aerodynamics should be custom-made. And everything is great, but about that part…”
As expected of a head engineer, Logan offered advice on the direction moving forward rather than congratulatory words, laying down a stepping stone for the engineers to take their next steps.
I’ve been watching closely. Logan is the true tsundere of this era. He may be awkward with compliments and emotional expressions, but he is open to suggestions and communicates frequently even with the junior Won-jin.
Occasionally, without much thought, he throws in remarks like,
“You did well.”
“Good.”
“Keep it up.”
Such indifferent words are packed with affection and sincere sentiment, enough to melt the hearts of the engineers.
And then, the much-anticipated new face—or should I say old face?—Shin Juhyun, a long-standing legend of Ferrari, though she had just recently joined.
“You really made something amazing. Enrique, Won-jin. This is technology I only dreamed about in my generation. I can’t believe you actually completed this. Other teams, even Mercedes, wouldn’t even dream of this.”
She gazed up at the system created by Enrique and Won-jin with eyes shining like a child entranced by the countless shooting stars filling the night with light.
To her, the hybrid suspension must be groundbreaking technology. The suspension conversions until now were either embarrassingly labeled as automatic or were manual, creaking like a wooden puppet while oscillating between extremes without fine adjustments.
Mercedes had tried to improve it before, pouring money into it, but I heard they scrapped it due to poor results relative to the investment.
However, the hybrid system designed by Enrique and the team was a true “automatic,” intelligently moving by itself to find the optimal position.
It was no wonder she looked at it that way.
“It’s indeed impressive. Even when I just switched it manually, there was not a single hiccup.”
“I didn’t expect such high completion on the first attempt. I think there’s almost nothing to fix.”
I, too, could confidently speak to her as someone who had just experienced the system for the first time. Leclerc, the second experiencer, chimed in, expressing agreement with my opinion.
The three who expressed congratulations in their own ways soon stood near the pit lane, where the race car had come to a stop, backlit by the sun. A halo glowed behind them, creating a somewhat imposing scene reminiscent of a king and his subjects.
What they would say was obvious.
“Congratulations on the success. However, success is just success, and we have a long way to go.”
“We cannot rest on our laurels. Let’s take a deep breath and move forward.”
In other words, they were probably going to say, “Now get back to work.”
Whatever begins has an end. This is not just limited to relationships or events but also applies to the human heart. Expressions like love has ended or has faded are commonly used. So, the sense of accomplishment and joy from today must also have an end.
Typically, endings come naturally, but today seemed different. Perhaps today, Mattia Binotto would declare that.
Therefore, it seemed. Even though they were undoubtedly the most dedicated to the team, they also looked like demons who had come to seize this moment of joy.
Perhaps “artificial” was indeed a bad word?
“Ugh… I wish we could take a break today. I’m feeling exhausted…”
“When have we ever really rested? We always cover our ears and close our eyes while trying to sleep in that noisy lab… Just accept it.”
“Right. It’s easier to give up. Why don’t you try giving up, too?”
“Giving up what? Freedom? Or Ferrari?”
“…Either way, it would be easier.”
The conversation among the two engineers, with dark circles under their eyes, invaded my ears. They say that life is a comedy from a distance and a tragedy up close… They seemed to embody that.
Other Ferrari staff all hung their heads low. They knew that despite such a significant success, they would soon return to their monotonous routines.
“So, congratulations on today’s success. But there are still many issues to address…”
As they awaited the devilish Binotto’s decree of “Get back to work, my slaves!”
Binotto’s response was beyond everyone’s expectations.
“Congratulations should not be celebrated here. It’s still before lunch, so everyone must be hungry. Let’s go eat some expensive food. I’ll treat you. Oh, today is a holiday.”
Holiday. He definitely just announced it was a holiday.
In an instant, the figure of Binotto changed from a black-winged demon to an angel with brilliant white wings.
“D-Did the director just say today is a holiday? Really? ‘That’ director?”
“…This is a trap. A Binotto trick…! I can’t fall for it.”
“W-What…! Just give me some work…”
“Air duct… front wing… rear wing… aerodynamics… engine… power unit…”
Binotto, the cold-blooded one who issued a 24-hour operation order at the lab, declared a holiday while using polite language.
It was no wonder there were groups displaying vacant expressions of disbelief and others whispering endlessly about research projects and terminologies.
Spotting those murmurs, Logan, perhaps as a mediator, stepped in to organize the situation.
“Stop with the nonsense and grab your stuff, everyone. The race car has already been loaded onto the trailer and sent to the lab, and a bus is waiting outside, so hurry and get on.”
Even amid Logan’s scolding, employees were hesitantly packing up, thinking, “Can we really go…,” when Binotto landed the final blow with a benevolent smile that could be likened to a pope’s.
“If you don’t want to, everyone can just take the bus to the lab together.”
With just that one commanding phrase, engineers and mechanics moved faster than during a pit stop, even quicker than changing tires.
“Humans can move this fast…”
“Right? It feels like we need to change drivers.”
I helped pack up, sharing smiles with Leclerc.
Today was the first official holiday declared by Binotto at Ferrari. Though Saturdays and Sundays existed, they had never truly served as holidays, so it would be right to say today was indeed their first holiday.
The warm afternoon air that circulated through my lungs during each breath felt delightful.
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A silver tray was welded onto a drum. It was a familiar sight at retro Korean restaurants, where the sound of grilling meat filled the air alongside a savory aroma.
“Why is this here? Is this world’s best food? Why on earth?”
The protagonist was none other than samgyeopsal. It was a typical Korean dish of pork belly grilled on a grill and wrapped in lettuce, perilla leaves, garlic, and dipping sauce.
However, the restaurant was filled with dozens of Ferrari employees of various nationalities. They held up soju glasses, tilting them as they nonchalantly grilled meat, as if it were entirely natural.
Their flipping skills showed perfect timing, an aesthetic sense while cutting the meat into even sizes and arranging them neatly, and the experience of transferring cooked meat to another dish while maintaining the heat.
You could ask why they were in a samgyeopsal place out of all the many restaurants, and it was due to the principle that the youngest decides the meal for a gathering.
Amid the anticipation of the chosen feast, Won-jin declared,
“Oh, one bottle of soju with samgyeopsal… that’s perfect.”
I scolded the young rookie, questioning where he learned the term for one bottle of soju, insisting he should drink cola instead. Yet, my dear friend Ji-hyun chimed in,
“Hyun-a, aren’t you a minor, too…”
At that moment, I was left speechless.
In any case, the youngest hit by nostalgia happened to be Korean, which led to this crowd of foreigners coming to a samgyeopsal place.
“Sister, I’m not making old-fashioned remarks, so why are you like this? It’s only been a few years since samgyeopsal has established itself as the soul food of the world… K-meat, don’t you know?”
“I want to hit you.”
I playfully tapped the edge of my spoon against the top of Won-jin’s head. Though I hit softly, since it was the edge, it must have hurt quite a bit, you arrogant brat.
Even Won-jin, who was hailed as a genius, seemed unprepared for me to hit him with a utensil, letting out a gasp and rubbing the area I tapped.
I felt a bit guilty…
“Ugh…”
“Ugh? Do you want to be hit again?”
In the case of one who does not know the subject, a blow is a remedy, so he would receive another hit.
At that moment, Ji-hyun, who brandished the hammer of justice, stepped in to stop me.
“Hyun-a, the meat is all cooked. Let’s eat rice first.”
“Hey, Won-jin. You should be grateful to Ji-hyun.”
Won-jin hid his head behind Ji-hyun and began to complain.
“She really is pretty only on the outside; she’s just like a barbarian.”
“Ji-na, what’s with that attitude toward your sister? Apologize quickly.”
“M-Madwoman! You said it first!”
Even as Won-jin tried to cockily rise up, the bond between Ji-hyun and Won-jin had deepened since the Kiwi Tournament, marked by their exchanges of information.
It had been since Ji-hyun participated in the suspension project. Being in the same project team meant they spent 24 hours together, and additionally, being fellow Koreans, they seemed to have become close rapidly.
But… something felt off.
Ji-hyun seemed to regard Won-jin as a reliable younger brother, but it appeared that Won-jin looked at Ji-hyun from another perspective.
As a fellow Korean, as an older sister, as a colleague, and something beyond that. In other words, he seemed to be seeing her as someone romantic. Thinking of that loving gleam in his eyes as he occasionally secretly watched Ji-hyun sleep in the lab’s resting room, it was evident that Won-jin liked Ji-hyun.
Nothing is more amusing than catching the weaknesses of cocky kids.
I leaned in close to Won-jin’s ear and quietly said,
“You like Ji-hyun, don’t you? If you keep being cocky, I’ll tell Ji-hyun. Oh no, I’m bored, so maybe I should just say it now.”
“W-What are you talking about? I don’t like a-anyone!”
“Oh, really? If that’s the case, then it doesn’t matter if I say it, does it?”
Gently scratching at his vulnerable spot, naturally, the reaction was amusing.
“I’m sorry, Sister!!!”
Won-jin slammed his head down on the table.
Hmm, very good. This is how the true hierarchy between siblings should be.
“I forgive your sins.”
Yes, samgyeopsal was indeed delightful.