[TS] Formula One Streamer - Chapter 163

If there are people who have to chase reality, there must also be people who chase ideals.

“Please. Believe in me.”

I turned to everyone in the meeting room and said one last time.

Just a single word asking for belief, but there was no need to add anything more. The path I have walked serves as evidence to support me.

And at this moment, those facts were overwhelming the audience with a power stronger than any words.

At that time, while no one dared to speak, they were all just looking at each other.

Minoto’s voice, trembling slightly with satisfaction, gently eased the tense atmosphere of the meeting room.

“Alright. Let’s do it that way.”

I had a feeling but it was true. After a moment’s hesitation, Minoto raised my hand.

Thinking about it, from the time he personally came to Korea to recruit me until now, he has always respected and prioritized my opinions. It might be natural for him to raise my hand.

Perhaps that moment’s hesitation was to give the other staff time to accept and understand my position. Though their hearts were already inclined, it seemed he intentionally delayed to prevent backlash and to avoid future complaints.

After years of consecutive struggles, this first Grand Prix of Season 31 could lead to a reassignment of staff, including the director, which might put a period on their careers.

If a director were to accept such a critical matter without even a moment’s thought, it would make the weight of the title of director appear as light as a feather.

Minoto pretended to ponder for that brief moment and in doing so, not only planted sincerity but also secured the driving force and justification.

To those who prefer straightforwardness, it might seem frustrating, but each small word and action can change the flow and transform everything.

Humans pursue and chase meaning from birth until d*ath.

“…Alright. Let’s give it a try. Anything can happen in F1, so what can’t we achieve?”

“If we manage our variables well, there’s potential. Who expected us to finish 6th in today’s qualifying? No one. Not even us, Ferrari.”

“Right. There was no belief or basis that it could happen. But we produced such an absurd result, didn’t we?”

Those who had been continuously voicing negative opinions turned their attitudes around and began to speak positively. Their quick change of heart might seem indecisive, but that is not necessarily the case.

As they said, even Ferrari could not have imagined their name would rank 6th, yet I had created that nonsensical result. It would be hard to believe that Ferrari, which had been stuck in the mud, secured a 6th grid in just one season.

Therefore, miracles happening are not just a matter of words; they had already occurred just an hour ago. Who can say such occurrences won’t happen again?

Even a very small probability means there’s always someone who wins the lottery.

“Honestly… from a realistic standpoint, it’s hard to say it’s possible. But I think it’s worth a shot. If we don’t make mistakes, we can easily grab 9th or 10th place, so it’s okay to be a bit greedy here.”

“Once we achieve a realistic ranking, I think it would be best to move strategically based on the situation.”

Of course, they couldn’t completely ignore reality, so the atmosphere didn’t swing entirely toward ‘it’s possible!’ Instead, the engineers could now nurture a ‘hope’ in their hearts.

That alone was enough; there was no need to be disappointed.

A sprout is hard to germinate, but once it does, it grows day by day without knowing today. I could provide the water and sunlight, so there was plenty of nourishment.

While I observed the atmosphere heating up with quiet expectation in the meeting room, I smiled and spoke.

“Let’s become the biggest variables of the Bahrain Grand Prix.”

Tomorrow, we will become the protagonists of the Bahrain Grand Prix.

*

*

*

“It’s oddly not tiring.”

“Right? But I should sleep. I’m worried I might not be able to.”

After a long meeting, Leclerc and I stepped outside the laboratory to breathe the night air. We were slowly walking along the perimeter of the lab to catch our breath, but it was impossible to enjoy the leisure.

The wave of the crowd that started from Bahrain Circuit swept across the entire area, including the laboratory, like a tsunami. RVs and tents of various colors were lined up along the road, filling the ground like a well-stacked game of Tetris at regular intervals.

I was astonished by the sheer number of people.

“I can’t tell if the stars are floating in the sky or on the ground. I can’t even tell if it’s night.”

“It’ll be like this everywhere from now on. The Bahrain Grand Prix is relatively spacious, but city circuits like the Monaco Grand Prix are even worse.”

It felt like a festival had erupted. Or perhaps since a Grand Prix is a type of festival, it would be more accurate to say a festival had begun?

The shining headlights of cars, the light streaming from the tents, and campfires that were crackling and sending sparks into the air illuminated the night in Bahrain. While the qualifying had ended, the sounds of laughter and chatter from the crowd indicated that their festival was far from over.

Interestingly, flags representing the 10 teams of F1 were sticking out from tents and vehicles, each showcasing their respective team colors.

Mercedes was silver, Renault was blue, Red Bull was black, McLaren was orange, Ferrari was red… Each person had a flag of their favorite team raised high in the sky.

“It’s beautiful. It’s so colorful.”

“Right? But if you keep looking, it hurts your eyes.”

With so many people, the colors were diverse. The silver flags supporting the reigning top team Mercedes were of course plentiful, but the white flags of the current bottom team His were fluttering in the wind as well.

The flag colors were scattered without any set pattern, but mostly, as we neared each team’s laboratory, the colors began to unify.

The laboratory closest to the n*ked eye was Mercedes’, where apart from silver, it was hard to spot any other color. Only the silver flags were gracefully waving in the wind.

It felt like an aura that was untouchable.

“Even if they are said to be the cause of F1’s boredom, Mercedes really draws a crowd. The champion title truly reigns supreme.”

“While Mercedes might have diminished the tension in terms of competition, it’s definitely not dull. Mercedes’ race cars, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen… Regardless of competition, they are simply exciting.”

Leclerc, staring at the silver waves surrounding Mercedes’ laboratory, made this statement with a hint of bitterness.

It seemed to be a mix of anger and envy.

Anger at himself, not at the team, for not achieving that status. Envy for the path being paved solely under the names of Hamilton and Verstappen, transcending the title of champion.

A manifestation of complex emotions, a pure and intense desire for one’s dreams, tangled with the harsh reality of inadequacy.

“It’s intriguing. Challenging oneself, paving a new path…”

I understood Leclerc’s heart. Paving a unique path marked by one’s own name is an exhilarating endeavor incomparable to achieving a champion title.

I realized that for sure after winning three champion titles in my previous life.

There was something new and different there. When you think you’ve opened the limits and ends of driving, a new horizon comes along that mocks that thought, profound and distant.

Therefore, I could assert confidently.

“It’ll be soon. There will be a day for us like that… it’s coming soon. So, just be prepared.”

With unwavering certainty, I declared. There was no slightest hint of falsehood in saying that our time would come.

I looked up at Leclerc under the intensity of his gaze. In terms of age, experience, or height, I was far beneath him, yet now, looking at the same goal, we appeared equal, just as the horizon we chased together.

Our gazes, our hearts met on a single line, moving toward endless horizontal possibilities, and we silently faced each other for several minutes.

One dream and another dream clashed fiercely in the air.