My Formula 1 System

On the seventh day, Luca's side was feeling much better, and he could make certain movements without experiencing the sharp pain that had plagued him since the moment Ansel's front wing slammed into him. However, the abdominal muscles in that area had begun to strain, bringing on waves of discomfort even when he was completely still.

Mr. Ammermann assured Luca that this was part of the healing process. The muscles, having been disrupted by the initial impact, were now in overdrive to repair themselves. Tiny tears and stress points in the muscle fibers—common after trauma—were now regenerating. This repair process was necessary but also caused inflammation and an overcompensation of tension in the surrounding areas.

"The strain isn't unusual," Mr. Ammermann had told him.

Luca sighed, wishing his body would heal faster, just as Mr. Ammermann had assured him it was. The thought of waiting out this discomfort made him restless, but what truly unsettled him was the way the medical team had started handling tasks he could usually manage on his own.

He particularly disliked them helping out with his laundry. It made him feel weak, even though, literally... he was. Luca valued his independence fiercely because he had grown with it ever since the better half of his life. Seeing them handle things he ought to do constantly reminded him of what had caused the crash.

Three weeks left, at least. Happy new month to him—it was September 4th now, but he still couldn't shake off the frustration of waiting for his body to recover. His injury couldn't heal fast enough, especially for the sake of his mother.

She was devastated, and he could hear it in her voice every time she called. She'd called twenty times in seven days, and Luca wouldn't be surprised if his phone rang again with her name flashing on the caller ID.

Mrs. Rennick was devastated when she heard the news of her son's crash in Riyadh. Luca couldn't fault her reaction; as her only son, he was practically the center of her happiness, her primary source of joy in life. She had narrated that the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was the one race she decided not to watch—of all races, it had to be the one where he tumbled and smashed into the barriers.

That evening, exhausted from work, she had opted to skip the broadcast and head straight to bed, leaving Sophia, who was still awake, to catch her up the next morning. But at eight o'clock, Sophia burst into her room, her face pale and frantic, waking her with the devastating news: Luca had crashed.

Mrs. Rennick frequently asked Luca if she could fly to Berlin to care for him, but Luca refused every time. He believed her presence would only hinder his recovery and amplify the feelings of helplessness he was already struggling to suppress. This morning was no different—Luca firmly insisted for the twentieth time that she stay in London, reassuring her once again that he was healing just fine.

However, when she asked him to promise that he would never crash again in his career, Luca stayed silent. He wasn't sure he could promise that.

Max Addams had crashed in Barcelona. Ansel had crashed in Budapest. Crashes were an inevitable part of the sport, one of the reasons it held such allure. To Luca, it was the thrill of drivers pushing themselves to the absolute limit, racing on the edge of danger, that captivated spectators and elevated Formula racing to one of the most exhilarating sports in the world.

As he glanced down at his bandaged abdomen, Luca couldn't help but wonder if this would be the last injury of his career. Perhaps the development of his Attributes would shield him from future accidents... or perhaps more injuries awaited him on the road ahead.

[Ding!]

[Host has completed Day 1-7 of the routine programme!]

"Yup. No more of those bad-tasting meds," Luca muttered, slipping his feet into a pair of slides. He reached for a button-up shirt instead of a T-shirt—pulling anything over his head still tugged uncomfortably at his healing abdomen, and he wasn't about to let anyone help him with something so trivial.

Today marked their return to Berlin. His team, along with Trampos' medical department, was heading back to base. Sara and Mallow had mentioned they'd stop at headquarters to pick up his belongings and help him settle into his new home. So, today, Luca will officially move in.

Once he finished buttoning up, he took a quick glance around his room. Most of his belongings had already been packed, but there were still a few small things left for him to gather.

Finally, Luca exited the room to join Mr. Ammermann and the rest. Their flight was shared with Sara and Mallow, and they all boarded the small passenger plane around 7 a.m.

The atmosphere on board was calm, almost subdued. The hum of the engines was the only sound filling the cabin. Luca leaned against the window, staring out at the vast expanse of sky. The skyline below gradually disappeared as the plane ascended, leaving only endless clouds and the distant shimmer of the sun.

Luca let himself drift into thought as the clouds passed by, their slow movement mirroring the weight in his mind. It helped him pass the time, even when he unknowingly dozed off, lost in the quiet embrace of sleep.

Unfortunately, a direct flight wasn't available, stretching the journey longer than Luca had anticipated. With a brief stop in Istanbul, Turkey, it took them a full ten hours to return to Berlin.

By now, Luca was accustomed to these sporadic travels—so much so that even Turkey, a place he once thought would intrigue him, barely held his interest. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was his lingering thoughts. His mind was still lost in reflection, and his aching abdominal muscles did little to spark any sense of enthusiasm.

At 5:30 PM, they finally arrived in Berlin, having spent most of the day in the air. Without delay, Sara, Mallow, and Luca followed the Trampos medical team straight to the headquarters.

It was Sunday, which explained the eerie quiet that surrounded the facility. The roads were nearly empty, save for the uniformed guards patrolling the premises. The only sounds were the constant hum of the security gates opening as they cleared each arriving visitor.

"I believe there's not much to pack from your space?" Mallow asked as their SUV smoothly rolled into the parking lot.

"Yeah," Luca replied, gazing at the stillness that enveloped Trampos. The SUV's tinted windows cast a darker hue over the sky, making it appear even gloomier above the buildings—a perfect reflection of the somber mood that weighed on every crew member. "Just a few clothes, my personal bag, and my shoes. Everything personal, I think," he added. The reality of not residing in the HQ anymore still hadn't fully settled in.

"Alright," Mallow said as Sara carefully parked. The trunk of the SUV hummed open as she activated it. "You'll stay here. I'll pack," Mallow added, already stepping out.

Luca scoffed, pushing his door open as well, ignoring Mallow's attempt to keep him still. A broken rib wasn't reason enough to just sit back while someone else packed up his things—especially not when this was his final moment in the place he had called home.

Mallow turned to protest, but stopped when Luca climbed out, his careful movements still betrayed the discomfort of his abdomen he was trying to hide.

Mr. Ammermann had one final discussion with Luca about his recovery, outlining the steps he needed to take in the coming weeks. Once finished, he and his team of five nurses made their way toward the medical department building.

From the horizon, a small group of crew members had gathered, stepping out to welcome the returning team. Their faces lit up with relief at the sight of Luca, their top driver, moving with minimal signs of the serious injury he had suffered.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Mallow caught Luca staring as they approached. He tapped Luca softly on the shoulder. "C'mon, mate. Don't stress it. Go greet them one last time while I pack."

Explore new worlds at empire

Luca managed a small smile before walking over to the group. As he approached, their expressions softened as some held pride, others with unspoken concern.

Seeing him upright, moving on his own, eased the quiet worry they had all carried. For days, the garage had felt different and emptier, like something vital was missing. Trampos was definitely not like this before right after the incident, and seeing Luca gave the team hope that things might start to mend themselves.

Once Luca reunited with the team, Mallow tossed his keys into the air, caught them effortlessly, and strode off toward Luca's accommodation. Darkness was approaching, and he moved with urgency, determined to finish packing quickly.

Luca, meanwhile, turned his attention to the small group of crew members who had come to welcome him back. Though they weren't high in the hierarchy to be aware of deeper team decisions as Luca had asked, yet their warmth was genuine. Their expressions carried relief, seeing him moving steadily with little sign of the injury that had once left him struggling to stand.

Luca chatted with the team for a bit, but when he caught Mallow dragging a bag down the steel stairs and across the lot, he knew it would soon be time to go. He wrapped things up and walked toward his accommodation.

For months, he had been eager to leave this place. The routine, the pressure, the walls that felt smaller every day. Now, as he stood here, he wished he could stay just one more night.

Listening to the team repairing the cars, the sharp hisses of air guns tightening bolts, clatter of wrenches and loud instructions called over the rumble of machines usually put him in focus every moment, reminding him of his every goal.

Luca stopped at the doorway, watching as Mallow pulled out the last of his things. The room looked empty now.

Luca walked toward his drawer and pulled it open. A hundred sketches of telemetry lay scattered inside, drawn during the peak of his racecraft program. A few coupons from the many countries he had visited were tucked between them, but his fingers searched for something else... the one particular photo he was looking for.

He found it. A picture of him, Ansel, and some Trampos fans back in Monte Carlo, taken after their spectacular win in Stellar. That victory had earned them 45 points, a testament to their teamwork.

Luca smiled at the photo. It was the only one he consciously recalled taking. The rest had likely been snapped by the press without him even noticing.

When Mallow reentered the room for a last check, Luca held up the photo for him to see. "I'd like to frame this."

Mallow, who had been scanning the room, shifted his focus to the picture—Ansel holding the Monaco Grand Prix trophy, Luca biting his second-place medal while posing with a dozen Trampos fans.

"Sure. There are plenty of empty frames at the house," Mallow said. "We'll fix it when we get there."

Luca nodded, pocketing the photo and following Mallow out without a final glance at the room.

They walked down the steel stairs and crossed the large space toward the parking lot.

Luca waved the crew goodbye as Sara started the SUV without delay.

"Watch your step," Sara cautioned as Luca eased into the car.

He exhaled, shutting the door with a quiet click before glancing once more at the headquarters through the tinted window. The familiar sight blurred as the SUV rumbled to life. Sara reversed smoothly out of the parking box, made a swift turn, and steered toward the gate.

The sky deepened into a darker shade as they cruised toward Dahlem, the streetlights casting elongated streaks along the road. Luca wondered how much time they'd have to unpack and settle in before the night fully took over. However, Mallow reassured him that the movers had already set up most of his essentials—about 70%—so he could head straight to bed and leave the rest for tomorrow.

Up ahead, a grand contemporary mansion stood against the evening skyline, its sleek glass façade catching the last traces of daylight. The city's soft glow reflected off its surface, shifting with every turn of the car. Luca recognized it instantly. He had been here before—just once—but that was enough to know they were close to the neighbourhood.