Awe. Emotion. Rubbing hands together in anticipation.
On the radio, Kai didn't sound discouraged or defeated. Instead, his fighting spirit was soaring.
Did he wish he had a rocket ship of a car? Were the myriad handling issues plaguing the SF90 frustrating? Was it agonizing and deeply regrettable to claw his way into an overtaking position through sheer skill, only to have to hand it right back because of a blatant deficit in mechanical grip? Did Mercedes-Benz's suffocating, weekend-long dominance exert an unparalleled, crushing pressure?
Yes, yes, yes. The answers were all a resounding yes.
But that didn't mean Kai was going to wallow in a swamp of negative emotions and lose his focus. Scolding the technical team, assigning blame, and brainstorming long-term engineering solutions—those were tasks for after the checkered flag fell. He could settle those accounts one by one later. Right now, the race unfolding directly in front of his eyes was the absolute top priority.
Retreating without a fight, throwing his hands up in surrender—that had never been Kai's style.
So the W10 was a rocket ship. So what?
A top-tier race car was incredibly, undeniably important. Kai had just vividly experienced the crushing wall created by a massive performance deficit; it was an absolute chasm. But Formula 1 is far more complex than just raw horsepower and downforce. Outside of the machinery itself, countless other variables dictated the flow of a race—
And the season opener had only just begun.
His fiery ambition and boiling passion radiated through the radio transmission. Borreipaire could tangibly feel Kai's uninhibited, aggressive drive, and his own blood involuntarily began to pump faster in response.
"Plan A. Repeat, Plan A. Kai, I have strapped myself in," Borreipaire replied, injecting a small joke into the tense atmosphere. Everything was proceeding exactly according to their original design.
At least this time, the tactical strategy formulated by Ferrari during their pre-race meetings was sound. They had accurately diagnosed the pulse of the race; their judgment and layout were correct.
And it wasn't just Kai; the same applied to Leclerc.
Unexpectedly, Binotto's voice chimed in. "I am strapped in as well."
Exchanging glances, they couldn't control the slight, upward curve of their lips. The heavy, oppressive atmosphere that had been suffocating the pit wall loosened slightly. Their focus snapped back into razor-sharp alignment.
It wasn't until this exact moment that David Croft finally had a second to catch his breath in the broadcast booth. He turned to look at Martin Brundle, temporarily handing the heavy lifting of the commentary over to his partner.
This was absolutely not the start to the season opener anyone had expected. Everyone had assumed it would be a boring, suspense-free coronation march for Hamilton leading a dominant Mercedes 1-2. Instead, they witnessed a brutal backstab from Bottas and a brilliant overtake by Kai all at the very first corner. Verstappen and Leclerc, trailing right behind them, had been completely overshadowed. By the time they reached the end of Sector 1, before anyone even had a chance to process Hamilton reclaiming his position, the home crowd was plunged into despair—
During the chaotic launch, amidst the flying dust and shattering carbon fiber, the unlucky victim of the first-lap carnage was none other than the local Australian hero, Daniel Ricciardo.
Transitioning from Red Bull to Renault, it seemed Ricciardo still hadn't managed to shake off his terrible luck.
Eliminated in Q2 and starting from twelfth on the grid—for a driver of Ricciardo's caliber, that starting position was entirely unacceptable. Unsurprisingly, he immediately went on the offensive the moment the lights went out.
However, starting from tenth place was none other than Sebastian Vettel, driving the pink Racing Point!
Ricciardo was unsatisfied with his position, and Vettel was equally furious about his. By sheer coincidence, both former Red Bull team leaders simultaneously opted to attack down the inside line.
Traffic. Squeezing. An explosive collision waiting to happen!
The Number 3 Renault and the Number 5 Racing Point didn't actually make contact. But Vettel was incredibly aggressive. He claimed the racing line completely, leaving absolutely zero margin for error and offering not a sliver of an opening. Out of options, Ricciardo was forced to keep moving further to the right, eventually running completely out of asphalt and plunging onto the grass.
And that was exactly where disaster struck.
The section of grass near the pit lane exit was elevated slightly higher than the track surface. Ricciardo's front wing slammed violently into the raised earth. It shattered instantly into countless pieces. A massive cloud of dirt, grass, and carbon fiber exploded into the air. The front wing was completely destroyed.
Although Ricciardo desperately tried to maintain pace with the back of the pack, driving an F1 car without a front wing is practically impossible. By the time they exited Turn 2, Ricciardo had already plummeted to the very back of the field, limping along in miserable solidarity with his fellow unfortunate victim, Sergio Perez.
The real mystery was what had happened to Perez's Williams. At the end of Lap 1, both Perez and Ricciardo dove into the pits for emergency repairs—
It appeared Williams' brand new season of nightmares wasn't going to end anytime soon.
However, the broadcast booth was completely overwhelmed. They had zero time to worry about the miseries of Perez and Ricciardo. Forget about the stragglers at the back of the pack; even the vicious, knife-fight battles on the fringes of the points-paying positions between Räikkönen, Vettel, and Hülkenberg failed to capture the camera's attention. Because Kai was starting to push.
When the purple graphic indicating Kai had just set the fastest lap of the race flashed across the live feed, Croft froze. ?
"...Kai just set the fastest lap of the race. What exactly is happening here? Is there an error with the FIA timing graphics, or am I starting to lose my eyesight early?"
Croft delivered the line with a light chuckle. He didn't miss a beat during the live broadcast, effortlessly acknowledging the surprise while maintaining total control of the narrative flow.
But the next second, he turned toward Brundle, his eyes full of massive question marks. He had absolutely no idea what was going on.
Any viewer with even a passing understanding of Formula 1 knew that in the modern era, tire management played a paramount role. It wasn't that the cars lacked the mechanical capability to push flat out; it was that the drivers had to constantly manage tire degradation, battery deployment, energy harvesting, overall car balance over a long stint, fuel consumption, and a myriad of other factors.
If a driver just went out there with hot blood and pinned the throttle to the floor, driving like a reckless idiot, their tires would be utterly destroyed in a matter of laps. They'd be forced into an unscheduled pit stop, or worse, they'd lose control on the track, executing a beautiful 360-degree spin directly into the barriers for a DNF.
A sprint and a marathon both involve running, but the underlying strategies and necessary techniques are fundamentally different. They are essentially two entirely different sports.
Because of this, everything a driver does during a race—when to push, how aggressively to push, and exactly how long to maintain that push—is dictated by a meticulously calculated strategy.
Yet, right now?
Kai was acting exactly like a hot-headed rookie. After using Lap 2 to settle in and build momentum, he immediately cranked up the pace on Lap 3, casually dropping a fastest lap time.
This was especially bizarre considering he had just successfully executed an overtake on Lap 1, only to have the position immediately snatched back. And now, he was posturing like a relentless, clinging stalker who refused to let go.
Was this logical?
Of course, the "fastest lap" at this stage of the race wasn't anything close to the blistering, jaw-dropping pace of a Qualifying simulation. It just meant he was marginally faster than the rest of the field on that specific lap.
Nevertheless, setting purple sectors as early as Lap 3 instantly grabbed everyone's attention.
If it were anyone else, Croft wouldn't have paid it much mind. In the early stages of a race, the fastest lap usually belongs to the race leader. But because everyone is actively managing their pace, the actual lap times aren't particularly fast. Occasionally, a trailing car attempting an overtake will temporarily snatch the fastest lap. Or a driver might slightly misjudge their pace management and go a fraction of a second too quickly. These are common, everyday occurrences that don't warrant panic.
But this was Kai. The Kai who had exploded out of nowhere last season and violently overturned the entire established order of the paddock. When Kai did something, the context was entirely different.
So, was this just an accident? A random fluctuation? Or was it—
Croft looked to Brundle for answers. Unfortunately, this time, even Brundle was at a loss.
It wasn't just Brundle; the live broadcast cameras were firmly locked onto the Number 22 car, tracking its every move.
Clearly, Kai was not a hot-headed rookie. He wasn't a reckless, brainless youth who just pinned the throttle without thinking. Absolutely no one believed that the Kai who had systematically dismantled Mercedes-Benz last season was currently pushing just because he caught a sudden rush of adrenaline to the head.
Everyone was desperately trying to decipher Kai's true intentions.
Borreipaire could distinctly sense the shifting atmosphere on the pit walls to his left and right. Whether it was Mercedes-Benz or Red Bull, no one dared to underestimate Kai.
More accurately, it wasn't just 'refusing to underestimate'; it was 'absolute, maximum-priority lockdown defense.' The treatment he was receiving was fundamentally different from last season. The entire strategic focus of his rivals had shifted comprehensively toward Kai. Any movement, however slight, had to be met with total vigilance. Ferrari's tactical plan wouldn't remain a secret for long.
But that was fine. The strategy wasn't the focal point anyway. This was an overt conspiracy—a strategy played entirely out in the open. The true objective was to apply continuous, relentless pressure until the delicate balance snapped. They didn't care if Mercedes and Red Bull altered their tactics, because Ferrari actively wanted their opponents to feel anxious and panicked!
Think about it: if the strategists sitting safely on the pit wall could feel the crushing weight of that pressure, what about Bottas and Hamilton fighting out on the asphalt?
Exactly as predicted—
Like daggers at their backs!
Hamilton could clearly feel the suffocating pressure emanating from behind him. Aggressive, relentless, and suffocatingly close.
Honestly, it was starting to get incredibly annoying!
Currently, Hamilton was deep in conversation with Peter "Bono" Bonnington, desperately trying to figure out how to adjust their strategy and reclaim the lead.
Of course, the absolute ideal scenario was for Bottas to simply hand the position back, and then sacrifice his own race to act as a meat shield, desperately defending against Kai while Hamilton drove off into the sunset.
But there were two massive problems with that plan.
First, Bottas was displaying a distinctly different attitude this new season. His launch off the line had been incredibly aggressive and fully committed. It was highly unlikely he was going to just meekly surrender the lead.
Last season, Bottas had suffered comprehensive, total humiliation—publicly and privately, on the track and off it. The internet had mercilessly branded him a pathetic "tool."
Even worse, after he had sacrificed everything to help Mercedes-Benz secure the Constructors' World Championship, Wolff had completely ignored him during the off-season, refusing to offer him a long-term contract extension. The endless rumors linking Kai and Vettel to Mercedes had been deeply humiliating, and even the young, untested rookie George Russell seemed to have higher priority on Wolff's list.
On the surface, Wolff had acted with necessary ruthlessness to protect the team's interests by eventually renewing Bottas's contract. He claimed to highly value Bottas's contribution for the new season. Yet, look at this very Australian Grand Prix weekend. Wolff had entirely ignored—even subtly demeaned—Bottas, focusing 100% of his energy and PR machine entirely on hyping up Hamilton, acting as if Bottas simply didn't exist.
Even a clay saint has a temper; push a rabbit hard enough, and it will bite.
The usually smiling, unfailingly polite Bottas had finally bared his fangs during the race. Regardless of what happened after the checkered flag fell, in this specific moment, he was taking a hardline stance.
Right now was absolutely not the optimal time to infuriate the "good soldier."
Second, Wolff was orchestrating a massive, overarching master plan. He was actively attempting to establish absolute dominance and suppress Kai from the ultimate moral high ground. They didn't just need to win; they needed a flawless, honorable, undisputed victory. Wolff intended to settle the score for Yas Marina later, on his own terms. Others might have forgotten, but Wolff would absolutely never forget the burning humiliation of last season.
More accurately, he refused to forget.
Therefore, while Mercedes-Benz certainly possessed the authority to order Bottas to hand the position back—or even actively threaten him to do so—executing team orders to explicitly dictate the race outcome would completely destroy Wolff's master plan. Even if Hamilton won the Australian Grand Prix, they would instantly lose the moral high ground and completely forfeit the strategic initiative for the rest of the season.
That was a scenario Wolff was entirely unwilling to accept.
Clearly, Wolff was overflowing with absolute confidence and determination. He had zero doubts that Hamilton could win the Australian Grand Prix, and he never once doubted that Mercedes-Benz would sweep both World Championships in the 2019 season. He needed to establish the foundation now, integrating the entire season into his grand blueprint.
His confidence wasn't unfounded.
Even if Mercedes-Benz temporarily shelved the idea of a direct, on-track position swap, Hamilton still had two highly viable options.
The first option was a brutal, head-to-head confrontation. Hamilton would switch into maximum attack mode and rely on pure, undeniable raw pace to overtake Bottas, honorably reclaiming the lead that rightfully belonged to him.
The massive advantage of this approach was that it relied entirely on sheer performance. It would detonate a tidal wave of positive media coverage. Even if he missed out on the "Grand Slam," Hamilton would still effortlessly conquer the hearts of even the most critical fans.
The disadvantage? It required taking massive risks.
On one hand, Hamilton would have to severely punish his tires, necessitating a complete overhaul of their pit stop windows and tire strategy.
On the other hand, it would publicly expose the internal discord within Mercedes-Benz. Right now, Bottas's overtake could easily be spun as a consequence of Hamilton's slight misstep at the start, with Bottas simply reacting quickly to minimize the team's losses—not an act of open rebellion. But if Hamilton actively launched a vicious assault on Bottas, the internal civil war would be broadcast to the entire world.
When that happened, the resulting media circus would be a massive headache. Even more dangerous was the possibility that, fueled by the controversy, Bottas might grow increasingly emboldened and defiant.
The second option was to execute the position swap through strategic pit stops.
The team could easily orchestrate differing pit windows. They could subtly inform Hamilton when Bottas was scheduled to box. While Bottas was in the pit lane, Hamilton could slightly elevate his pace, switching into attack mode out on the track. Quietly, seamlessly, without any dramatic on-track battles, the two drivers would swap positions, and Hamilton would resume his role as the race leader.
While this method lacked the awe-inspiring, dominant swagger of an on-track pass, it perfectly balanced all their competing interests. It was undoubtedly the optimal choice.
Therefore, pit stop timing and strategic divergence were incredibly critical right now. The pit wall needed to finalize a concrete plan immediately.
In other words, the Mercedes-Benz pit wall was currently operating at a frantic, chaotic pace. Faced with a highly delicate, thorny situation, they were desperately trying to calculate the perfect strategic formula. Hamilton's mind was also racing with a million different variables. And right in the middle of all this delicate planning, Kai decided to press right up against their gearbox and cause absolute chaos?!
Generally speaking, after the frantic, close-quarters combat of the opening lap, the subsequent few laps usually settle into a relatively calm, stable rhythm. Mercedes-Benz had intended to use this exact window to iron out their strategy. But Kai, acting entirely on his own, completely shattered that plan. Like an irritating, unkillable fly, he buzzed incessantly in their ears, refusing to leave them alone.
Damn it!
On the track, Hamilton wasn't a driver easily prone to anger.
Early in his career, he had occasionally been volatile and impulsive. But as his career progressed, Hamilton had refined his temperament, becoming increasingly mature and hyper-rational. Amidst the deafening roar of engines and the chaotic madness of a race, he could maintain absolute, icy calm, consistently making razor-sharp, accurate judgments in rapidly evolving, highly complex scenarios.
And the same was true now. Despite the slight irritation and tension, and the tangled mess of emotions that hadn't entirely settled, he remained perfectly lucid.
"What is he doing?" Hamilton demanded over the radio. He needed to confirm the tactical situation—
That splash of Ferrari red was crammed tightly into his rearview mirrors. Entirely ignoring the massive aerodynamic penalty of following in dirty air, Kai was glued to his tail, aggressively shadowing his every move. It completely defied conventional logic. Trapped in the cockpit, unable to see the broader picture, Hamilton's immediate, instinctual assumption was that it was a chain reaction: Leclerc was attacking Verstappen, and Verstappen was subsequently attacking Kai.
If it had been Leclerc—a young driver making his highly anticipated debut for Ferrari, his head full of hot blood, recklessly charging forward regardless of the consequences—the situation would make perfect, logical sense.
Bono didn't reply instantly. "Standby."
He stared intensely at the tiny, colored dots crawling across his telemetry screens—red, blue, yellow—desperately trying to decipher the underlying truth hidden within their pace across the different micro-sectors.
The situation was critical, but they could not afford to panic.
The red dot's pace was incredibly stable, yet consistently higher than projected. Analyzing the subtle, microscopic fluctuations across several key braking zones, Bono's brow furrowed tightly.
He took a deep breath. "He's pushing, Lewis."
"Fuck." In a very rare occurrence, Hamilton was genuinely enraged. This was supposed to be an incredibly boring, predictable weekend. Every single variable was supposed to be firmly gripped in the palm of his hand. Zero suspense, zero unexpected issues. He was supposed to absolutely, totally dictate the flow of the entire Grand Prix weekend. But now, everything was spiraling into chaos. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
Bono remained a pillar of calm. "He's trying to provoke us. He's actively trying to shatter our strategy. Lewis, you're smart enough to see through his cheap tricks."
Hamilton still couldn't entirely rein in his boiling frustration. "He's a lunatic."
And then, Brundle finally noticed it too—
The domino effect was taking hold.
Kai had shifted into attack mode, aggressively hunting Hamilton. Or, to be more precise: he was posturing as if he were aggressively hunting Hamilton.
Why call it "posturing"?
Because although Kai was relentlessly attacking and continuously applying suffocating pressure, he had never actually breached the one-second DRS window to launch a genuine, committed overtake attempt.
Partially, this was because Hamilton, acutely aware of Kai's pursuit, was deliberately elevating his own pace, actively refusing to let Kai slip into DRS range.
But partially, it was because Kai truly wasn't pushing to his absolute limits.
Brundle watched with intense, laser-like focus, slowly realizing the truth. Kai was merely adopting an aggressive stance. He was surging forward menacingly, fully weaponizing his aura and his perceived threat level to violently shake the psychological state of the Mercedes-Benz pit wall. He didn't even need to genuinely attack Hamilton to trigger a massive chain reaction.
Judging by the performance on Lap 1, even if Kai had burned his tires to execute a full-speed overtake on Hamilton, it was highly probable that Hamilton would have simply repassed him a few laps later. But the dynamic was entirely different now. Kai had merely postured for an attack, and Mercedes-Benz reacted like a flock of terrified birds. Both Hamilton and Bottas immediately began pushing their pace in response.
Wait, what exactly was happening here?
The team that had proactively laid the trap, seized the initiative, and launched the first strike today... was actually Ferrari!
...
The race had barely begun. Instead of settling into the usual, relatively calm stabilization phase, a spectacular, high-stakes duel was unfolding immediately. The eyes of everyone at Albert Park converged rapidly on the leading pack.
Kai chased Hamilton—Hamilton chased Bottas—And Bottas—
Entirely unaware of the intricate psychological warfare happening behind him, Bottas didn't even bother to ask his pit wall what was going on. He simply assumed that Hamilton, refusing to accept defeat, was aggressively preparing to snatch back the lead.
He absolutely did not want to hear "Valtteri, it's James..." crackle over the radio again.
At least, not today.
Consequently, Bottas also began to significantly elevate his pace.
The Mercedes-Benz pit wall, already frantic and stretched thin trying to calculate their upcoming pit strategy, simply didn't have the bandwidth to intervene when they saw Bottas speed up.
Should they order Bottas to slow down? Should they just explicitly order Bottas and Hamilton to swap positions right now, forcing Bottas to play rear-gunner and desperately defend against Kai?
But since they hadn't finalized their overarching strategy yet, and faced with Kai's suffocatingly aggressive pursuit, allowing Bottas and Hamilton to elevate their pace was the most logical, natural defensive response.
A chaotic confluence of reasons collided, resulting in the Mercedes-Benz pit wall failing to stop Bottas. And then, this scene unfolded—
Verstappen, trailing closely behind, was utterly bewildered. No one could confirm if he received an explicit order from the Red Bull pit wall, but the end result was undeniable: Verstappen also began to elevate his pace.
However, Leclerc did not.
Pulling one hair moves the entire body. It was clearly a marathon, yet the moment the gun fired, everyone immediately shifted into a full-out sprint. Were they seriously treating a Grand Prix like a 1000-meter dash?
So, what exactly kind of medicine was Ferrari selling from their gourd?
Historically, the Ferrari organization had suffered from numerous, heavily criticized flaws, and their strategy group was undeniably at the absolute top of that list.
Compared to Red Bull, they lacked audacity and an appetite for risk. Compared to Mercedes-Benz, they lacked icy composure and elite tactical acumen.
Even worse, in the rapidly mutating, split-second chaos of a live race, Ferrari's tactical adjustments and reactions were almost always agonizingly slow and frustratingly inaccurate. They frequently dominated the first half of a race, only to spectacularly vomit all their advantage away in the second half. Their live, on-the-fly decision-making constantly produced baffling, incomprehensible calls.
Last season, one of the most brilliant, saving graces of Ferrari was Kai's phenomenal ability to improvise. He possessed an uncanny knack for reversing disastrous situations while trapped in the cockpit. To a massive extent, he masked the glaring, fatal flaws of Ferrari's strategy team, single-handedly engineering several classic, legendary victories.
Yet now, at the season opener, Ferrari seemed entirely reborn right out of the gate. They were actually preempting both Mercedes-Benz and Red Bull, laying traps and launching strikes before anyone else?
A surprise!
An absolute, monumental surprise!
Incredibly, Mercedes-Benz, the team that had projected an aura of terrifying, absolute dominance throughout the entire Australian Grand Prix weekend, was currently being led around by the nose by Ferrari.
However, it was temporarily impossible to confirm whether this was an officially orchestrated team strategy from the Ferrari pit wall, or simply Kai seizing the opportunity and improvising brilliantly on the asphalt.
If it was an official team strategy, the fact that Kai and Leclerc were adopting two completely divergent postures raised a massive question. Had Ferrari designed two entirely separate strategies for their drivers from the very beginning?
Starting from third and fifth respectively, what exactly was Ferrari brewing? Were they aiming for a double podium? Or was Leclerc acting as a shield to orchestrate a victory for Kai?
While there was a certain degree of probability, based on the current dynamics, it was far more logical to attribute this to Kai's individual improvisation. After all, practically identical scenarios had played out multiple times last season.
So, the critical question remained: What exactly was Kai calculating?
If Kai knew perfectly well that even if he managed to overtake Hamilton, he would eventually lose the position anyway, was his aggressive posturing just an incredibly stubborn, suicidal attempt at mutual destruction?
If Kai had absolutely no intention of genuinely attacking Hamilton, then why was he actively destroying his own race strategy by constantly setting fastest laps and maintaining such an aggressive, tire-shredding pursuit?
Was it possible... Kai was planning a two-stop strategy?
No. Based on the current telemetry, that seemed highly unlikely. If he were on a two-stop strategy, Kai should be violently attacking Hamilton right now. He should even be aggressively hunting down Bottas, absolutely incinerating his tires to snatch the lead, and then recklessly pushing flat-out to build a massive, insurmountable gap to create a safe window for a multi-stop strategy.
Every additional pit stop meant Kai had to carve out an extra twenty-five seconds of pure, on-track advantage. Even for someone as brilliant as Kai, attempting a strategy like that sounded utterly insane. It bordered on clinical madness.
It was exactly in moments like this that the critical importance of pre-season smokescreens became glaringly obvious.
This was the season opener. The teams possessed an incredibly limited understanding of their competitors' capabilities. Forget about their rivals; frankly, the teams and drivers were still actively exploring and discovering the true strengths, weaknesses, and absolute limits of their own newly built cars.
In other words, absolutely no one knew for certain how Ferrari performed over a long stint. No one knew the exact shape of their tire degradation curve. No one knew how long Kai could physically sustain this blistering pace during an actual race. Everything was completely, terrifyingly unknown.
At this specific moment, there was simply too little information and far too few clues to make an accurate diagnosis.
The only absolute certainty was this: no one was going to repeat the fatal mistakes of last season. The entire paddock's collective gaze was laser-focused on Kai's every single movement.
The winds surged, the clouds gathered. The tension was razor-sharp, and the suffocating smell of gunpowder was rapidly spreading.
This was exactly the core objective of Ferrari's strategy.
Binotto couldn't help but marvel at Kai's sheer audacity. Everyone knew that Kai was currently public enemy number one. Kai reasoned that since he was already the target, why not use that exact paranoia to his advantage? By weaponizing his rivals' hyper-fixation and terror, he transformed their vigilance into his own weapon. Since the knives were already drawn and the air was thick with tension, why not push the situation to the absolute extreme and manufacture even more chaos?
Truth and lies. Reality and illusion. Inextricably tangled.
The true secret to defeating a genius lies in letting the genius overthink themselves into a corner.
In reality, the truth was brutally simple. The reason Kai adopted an aggressively offensive posture without pushing to the absolute, bleeding limit was because the SF90's tire management and degradation were vastly inferior to Mercedes-Benz's. Although they still weren't 100% certain how Mercedes performed over a full race distance, Ferrari definitely didn't hold an advantage.
Therefore, Kai couldn't truly push to the extreme. He also couldn't recklessly burn his tires trying to violently overtake Hamilton and Bottas to establish a dominant lead. That was a foolish, pyrrhic strategy—killing a thousand enemies but losing eight hundred of your own men. The SF90 simply couldn't withstand that level of punishment.
From the very beginning, Kai never intended to actually overtake Hamilton. He was using a counterfeit aggression to shatter Mercedes-Benz's carefully laid plans, forcing Hamilton and Bottas into a high-speed pursuit that would systematically incinerate their tires.
However, Kai knew that Mercedes-Benz would likely uncover the truth relatively quickly. But that didn't matter. Every second he delayed them was a victory. When Mercedes finally realized what was happening, he would adapt and counter their next move. Right now, Mercedes-Benz had to be an absolute, disorganized mess, frantically trying to figure out the logistics of swapping Hamilton and Bottas. In that frantic chaos, they were bound to overlook crucial details.
That was Ferrari's golden opportunity.
Before long, Kai's hypothesis was decisively confirmed.
The W10 was truly an absolute monster. Its long-run performance was phenomenal, and its tire operating window remained remarkably stable. Even though Kai had been relentlessly attacking and applying suffocating pressure to Hamilton, it was glaringly obvious that Hamilton still had plenty of performance held in reserve.
The SF90, however, was an entirely different story. It was agonizingly slow to bring the tires up to their optimal operating temperature. And after just a brief stint of aggressive pushing, you could clearly see the red soft tires beginning to degrade rapidly. If Kai actually engaged "Qualifying Mode" and threw caution to the wind, pushing with everything he had, those tires would suffer a catastrophic, cliff-drop failure within a matter of laps.
The situation was incredibly severe.
Yet, Kai remained completely unbothered. Right before the tire degradation curve violently plummeted, he shifted into maximum attack mode, throwing off the shackles and launching a furious, all-out assault on Hamilton.
Instantly, the tension spiked. Hamilton was forced to elevate his pace in response, which inadvertently forced Bottas to sprint even harder. The situation reached a breaking point.
Hearts leaped into throats. The entire audience involuntarily rose from their seats.
Watching Kai finally breach Hamilton's DRS window, preparing to launch a genuine attack, the ultimate showdown between the two elite drivers was finally about to erupt—
And then, the Ferrari pit crew suddenly sprang into frantic action, adopting the distinct, aggressive posture of preparing for an immediate pit stop.
Everyone: HA??? WHAT THE HELL!
The entire venue was utterly dumbstruck. Minds completely crashed. A tidal wave of massive, confused question marks drowned everyone's thoughts.
What... what kind of bizarre play was this?!
Closer—even closer—closing at maximum velocity—
The tense cat-and-mouse game had finally culminated within DRS range. The battle was imminent. Just as everyone braced for the explosive offensive/defensive duel between Kai and Hamilton to reignite... the sudden, chaotic movement in the Ferrari pit box violently shattered the fragile equilibrium.
Lap 11?!
Pirelli's official strategic recommendation stated the optimal pit window for the red soft tires was around Lap 20. Yet, it was currently only Lap 11. The Australian Grand Prix had barely even started. By all conventional logic, this was the exact moment the initial warmup phase should end, transitioning seamlessly into the first major sequence of on-track battles. But incredibly, the Ferrari pit crew was actively preparing for a stop.
What in God's name was Ferrari doing?!
It wasn't just the casual viewers; the hardcore Tifosi immediately sensed something was catastrophically wrong. They didn't doubt Kai's abilities, but they were terrified that Ferrari's strategy team—or a mechanical failure on the car—was about to ruin his race. The scene unfolding before their eyes was completely, absurdly abnormal. Their hearts instantly clenched tight, frantically praying this wasn't a sudden mechanical DNF.
The entire pit lane immediately went on maximum high alert—
Wolff could barely suppress his boiling frustration. Everything was chaos. Everything was a complete, disorganized mess. Mercedes-Benz was supposed to have maintained absolute, dictatorial control over this entire Grand Prix weekend. But now, Ferrari was aggressively surging forward, violently seizing the initiative and dictating the flow of the race.
So, what exactly was happening right in front of him?
The "Monza Trick"?!
Was the Ferrari strategy team really this pathetic? This unimaginative? Just because Mercedes-Benz had successfully screwed them over with a dummy pit stop in Monza last year, they were going to pettily, obsessively try to return the favor over and over again? And they weren't even changing the method! They were just mindlessly spamming the exact same tactic like they were trapped in a haunted maze, completely unafraid of trapping themselves in their own delusion.
The infuriating reality was that Wolff didn't have a pre-planned counter-measure for this specific scenario. If Hamilton had been leading, with Bottas running second acting as an impenetrable shield against Kai, none of this chaotic bullshit would be happening!
For a moment, Wolff genuinely couldn't determine what he was angrier about: Bottas's treacherous backstab that caused this entire mess, or his own inability to easily dispatch Ferrari's repetitive, unoriginal tricks—
One was infuriating, and the other was humiliating.
Wolff had absolutely, definitively not anticipated the Race unfolding like this.
However, Wolff didn't have the luxury of time to wallow in frustration. The crisis staring him in the face demanded an immediate solution.
Ferrari was deploying the 'Dragon Gate Array.' Were they actually planning to pit, or was this a massive, elaborate trap? Even if they were genuinely pitting, who was coming in? Kai, or Leclerc?
Especially after the catastrophic blunders of last year's Australian Grand Prix—where Mercedes-Benz played a phenomenal hand of cards terribly, ultimately handing Kai the miraculous achievement of a debut victory and rendering themselves pathetic, humiliated background extras—Wolff had to be incredibly careful.
In this precise moment, Wolff had to be colder, more calculating, and infinitely more rational than ever before.
Accurate judgment!
"Stay out, Lewis. Stay out. We are sticking to our rhythm. Keep a close eye on Kai."
Swift. Decisive. Ruthless—
Wolff displayed the absolute resolve of a true titan.
Last season, they had focused entirely on the Number One driver and fatally ignored the rookie, miscalculating the tactical warfare entirely. But this time, Wolff wasn't going to let the trauma of a past snakebite make him terrified of ropes for ten years. He refused to be paralyzed by overthinking or the fear of losing. He remained fiercely focused on the opposing Number One driver. He absolutely refused to let the lurking threat of Ferrari's Number Two driver throw his strategy into disarray.
Mercedes-Benz was only the first. Red Bull, Renault, and the rest of the teams down the line... their expressions were a chaotic mix of confusion and disbelief. Absolutely no one could comprehend Ferrari's chess move.
Wasn't Binotto supposed to be a nerdy, bookish engineer? Wasn't his personality supposedly mild-mannered and lacking a sharp, aggressive edge?
Then how on earth do you explain this incredibly bold, wildly reckless, rule-breaking strategy?
Without a doubt, a new season brings a new atmosphere. Ferrari was genuinely projecting an entirely different aura. It wasn't just the superficial changes showcased during the opening ceremony; their entire tactical approach had become fiercely complex and incredibly aggressive. In an instant, the winds of war were howling.
To react, or not to react—
And then, it became glaringly obvious. The result of the entire pit lane exchanging nervous glances and mutually restraining one another was that absolutely everyone remained perfectly still. Not a single team mounted a response.
Refuse to take the bait!
Witnessing this, Binotto's palms involuntarily began to sweat. Because Kai had flawlessly, accurately predicted the exact reaction of every other team on the grid.
The Ferrari strategy group had historically been a massive vulnerability. Coupled with the fact that Binotto himself wasn't exactly known for an aggressive, flamboyant personality, the paddock universally assumed Ferrari would adopt a highly defensive posture, refusing to easily fall for any traps.
Therefore, the other teams adopting a 'refuse to take the bait' stance was actually a form of invisible psychological pressure. If Ferrari was genuinely hesitating about whether to pit, and they saw that their dummy strategy hadn't hooked a single fish... given the choice, they would likely abort the pit stop. If that happened, Ferrari's preemptive tactical strike would end in humiliating failure, allowing the other teams to easily reclaim the initiative and reassert control over the race.
This was exactly why even the usually hyper-aggressive Red Bull remained uncharacteristically silent.
Everything was playing out exactly as Kai had predicted.
Binotto felt a sharp, electrifying tingle shoot down his spine. His fists clenched involuntarily. He felt an unprecedented, overwhelming sense of gratitude. He had chosen to trust Kai's judgment and gamble everything. When trapped in a desperate situation, actively launching an offensive strike was the only way to fight for a sliver of survival.
The eyes of the entire paddock were locked entirely onto the Ferrari pit box. The dense, suffocating air was practically stagnant; it felt impossible to draw a single breath of oxygen.
And then, Bono, positioned closest to the pit lane entry, was the first to notice the anomaly.
GASP!
He sucked in a sharp breath of cold air. A million different thoughts and a colorful array of curses flashed through his mind at lightning speed. But right now, he didn't even have the luxury of time to voice a complaint. Because Kai had just dived into the pits.
That flash of brilliant red was undeniably the Number 22 Ferrari.
Dropping an absolute nuclear bomb, instantly annihilating every single prediction and strategic layout in the entire paddock.
"Lap Twelve! The very first driver to shatter the deadlock has emerged! Kai dives into the pits first!"
"On Lap 1, Ricciardo and Perez made unexpected pit stops, but those were obviously unplanned emergency repairs resulting from damage. But right now, Ferrari has become the very first team in the paddock to launch a proactive tactical strike! Defending Champion Kai has boxed! This is an absolutely massive shock!"
"Last season, Ferrari attempted a remarkably similar maneuver. The strategy team tried to seize the initiative early, calling Vettel in first to break the deadlock, reverse the momentum, and take control. But it failed miserably. Mercedes-Benz and Red Bull responded with terrifying calm and composure, ultimately trapping Vettel in a strategic dead end. And now, Ferrari is attempting it again!"
"Is this a positive signal...?"
"We'll have to wait and see."
Mercedes-Benz's master plan—had been violently shattered once again.
First, Kai pitting this early—nearly a full third of the stint earlier than the optimal, standard pit window—was an incredibly risky, bordering on insane, maneuver. What exactly did it signify?
The agonizing dilemma currently staring them in the face was this: nobody actually knew the true condition of the Ferrari, nor did they know Kai's subsequent long-term strategy. But one thing was absolutely, undeniably certain: Kai was preparing to execute a devastating undercut.
Mercedes-Benz had to respond immediately.
Second, Mercedes-Benz's absolute best counter-move was to follow him into the pits on the very next lap. So, the question became: who pits? Hamilton, or Bottas?
If they chose Hamilton, it meant completely destroying Mercedes-Benz's own meticulously crafted plan to smoothly swap their drivers' positions on track. Hamilton would be forced to emerge directly into Kai's crosshairs and deal with his relentless harassment.
If they chose Bottas, then Hamilton would automatically inherit the race lead, and Bottas would emerge to counter Kai. On paper, it sounded perfect. But what if Bottas flawlessly managed his pace, executed a miraculous overcut, and ultimately suppressed Hamilton to claim the victory for himself?
In reality, there were contingency plans for everything. Every scenario had a counter-measure. This wasn't the apocalypse.
The critical issue was that Kai repeatedly, violently shattered Mercedes-Benz's meticulously crafted plans. From his aggressive, suffocating pursuit on the asphalt to this shocking maneuver in the pit lane, he was constantly, relentlessly destroying Wolff's strategic layout. Right now, they desperately needed a few moments to organize their thoughts and formulate a new plan. But Kai wasn't going to cooperate. If Mercedes-Benz hesitated for even a fraction of a second, the undercut would be successful.
Absolutely no one doubted Kai's raw capability.
That was the most agonizingly difficult part of the equation. Knowing that the entire paddock was laser-focused on his every move, Kai smoothly leveraged that exact paranoia, amplifying his threat level and his psychological deterrence to the absolute maximum. Pressing step by step, he forced them into a corner where they had to make a critical decision instantly.
The moment panic sets in, the moment chaos takes root, catastrophic mistakes are inevitable.
As expected of Kai. A masterful, brilliant calculation!
Right now, Wolff was over 70% certain that the true mastermind behind Ferrari's aggressive strategy today wasn't Binotto. It was the young Kai.
Nevertheless, Binotto's sheer audacity to take such a massive gamble and place his absolute trust in Kai was genuinely worthy of admiration. It seemed the internal contradictions and strife within Ferrari were far more severe than anyone had anticipated.
Unfortunately for Ferrari, virtue is one foot tall, but the devil is ten feet high. Wolff was still the superior strategist—
"Box. Box. Box. Lewis."