—Lap 22. Fastest lap. Kai, 1:27.888.
Was this single-lap pace absurd?
No, not at all. In fact, it was entirely within the normal, expected operational window. According to James Vowles' pre-race calculations, the fastest race lap at Albert Park should eventually drop into the 1:26 range, perhaps even touching the high 1:25s. In other words, Kai's current 'fastest lap' still had massive room for improvement. He was nowhere near squeezing the absolute, final drop of performance out of the car.
The critical factor was the timing.
On one side of the equation, Bottas's Red Soft tires were gradually entering their degradation phase. Having exceeded Pirelli's officially recommended 20-lap stint limit, he was still out on track, pushing his aging rubber.
On the other side, after seven laps of meticulous pacing and preparation, Kai's Yellow Medium tires had finally reached their optimal operating temperature. This was the exact, perfect moment for him to unleash hell and fly flat-out.
Kai chose this exact moment to execute his attack on Hamilton. After successfully completing the overtake, he immediately set two consecutive fastest laps. Even if the raw lap times themselves weren't mind-bendingly fast yet, the cascading, suffocating pressure crashing down on the Mercedes-Benz pit wall was paralyzing. What they needed to worry about now wasn't whether Kai would attempt an overcut; it was how many laps it would take him to successfully execute it!
Furthermore, even if the overcut technically failed—even if Bottas pitted and emerged just ahead of Kai—if the gap between the two cars was too small, how was Bottas supposed to defend on brand-new, ice-cold tires against a Kai whose tires were already perfectly primed? The slightest miscalculation, and the humiliating spectacle of Kai butchering two Mercedes-Benz cars back-to-back would play out live at Albert Park.
And never forget: this was Kai. The lawless, rule-breaking Kai.
Vowles' brain shifted into absolute maximum overdrive—
"Valtteri, box. Box, box."
There was zero time for hesitation. Vowles finalized his calculations and instantly relayed the critical data to Wolff.
Standing at the back of the garage, Wolff had been monitoring Kai like a hawk. He instantly grasped Vowles' implication and ruthlessly, decisively issued the order to pit.
At this exact moment, Mercedes-Benz's meticulously crafted race strategy was completely in tatters. They no longer had the luxury of worrying about how to smoothly swap Hamilton and Bottas. It didn't matter which of them won the Australian Grand Prix anymore. The only thing that mattered was preventing a humiliating repeat of last year's season opener.
Damn it!
Where exactly had things started to go wrong? How had Mercedes-Benz—the absolute, undisputed tyrant that dictated the weather in the paddock—been systematically dragged down to this pathetic, miserable state step by agonizing step?
Lap 23. Bottas pits.
Under the suffocating, relentless pressure applied by Kai, Max Verstappen temporarily assumed the lead of the Australian Grand Prix!
Damn it!
How had Mercedes-Benz been reduced from their terrifying, untouchable dominance to this embarrassing, humiliating position?
The old foxes scattered across the paddock all noticed it. Eyes shifted, filled with schadenfreude, happily admiring the chaotic panic engulfing the Mercedes-Benz pit wall.
The air momentarily stalled. The tension had been stretched to its absolute breaking point and was beginning to bleed over.
However, despite the severe danger, Mercedes-Benz still displayed the pedigree of a championship team. Their ability to react and adapt on the fly was elite. Before the situation could spiral completely into the abyss, they managed to stabilize the bleeding.
Bottas executed a flawless pit stop and exited smoothly, leaving zero openings. Exactly 2.8 seconds after Bottas rejoined the track, the Number 22 Ferrari finally flashed past the pit exit and entered the Jones Chicane. The spectacular, wheel-to-wheel, cold-tire dogfight the audience had been salivating over simply vanished into thin air.
The overcut: strangled in its cradle. Furthermore, Mercedes-Benz had successfully stopped their bleeding, establishing enough of a buffer for Bottas to prevent him from instantly falling into Kai's attack range while his tires were still cold.
"AH! AHHHHH!"
The entire Mercedes-Benz garage threw their hands in the air, pumping their fists and screaming in wild celebration, acting as if Bottas had just taken the checkered flag to win the championship.
Wait, this scene looked awfully familiar—
It was exactly what had happened just a few laps ago. They had celebrated Hamilton successfully defending against Kai's undercut. Now, they were celebrating Bottas successfully defending against Kai's overcut.
The glaring problem was... Kai had eventually overtaken Hamilton anyway. So, what about Bottas?
No, no, no. That wasn't the immediate problem. Staring them right in the face was an even more severe crisis. By pitting Bottas to successfully block Kai's overcut... they had simultaneously blocked Hamilton's overcut. Currently, Hamilton was still stuck behind both Bottas and Kai. How exactly were they supposed to clean up this massive, tangled mess?
What happened to Hamilton's guaranteed "Grand Slam"?
The mechanics exchanged awkward glances, utterly speechless.
After calming down for a few seconds, the Mercedes-Benz garage finally realized how pathetic their celebration had been—
Was surviving by the skin of their teeth really something worth celebrating?
The bustling, chaotic focus that had been concentrated entirely on Mercedes-Benz began to recede. The race was still ongoing, and every team had their own messes to clean up.
Lap 24. Verstappen pits.
The widespread assumption was that Red Bull might attempt something highly aggressive and risky.
For example, leaving Verstappen out on the track for a massive, extended stint to attempt a brute-force overcut.
But right now, the strategic landscape was a chaotic disaster. A massive gamble by Red Bull was highly likely to entirely destroy their own race. With Albon still struggling outside the points-paying positions, Horner had to prioritize the bigger picture. Rather than taking a suicidal risk themselves, it was far wiser to muddy the waters and see if they could exploit the ensuing chaos to their advantage.
Therefore, after leading the race for exactly one lap, Verstappen followed closely behind Bottas and dove into the pits.
When he emerged, he dropped behind Hamilton but remained ahead of Leclerc, comfortably holding onto fourth place. No significant positional changes occurred.
Today, Ferrari was the hyper-aggressive aggressor, taking total control of the race narrative. Conversely, Red Bull was being uncharacteristically low-profile, seemingly fading into the background.
And it wasn't just Kai driving the narrative.
When Verstappen exited the pits and slotted in ahead of Leclerc, the paddock's attention suddenly shifted back to the young Monegasque driver. They finally realized something crucial: Leclerc still hadn't pitted. Furthermore, the Ferrari garage looked perfectly calm; there were absolutely no signs of preparation for an impending stop. Everyone instantly smelled a massive rat.
A direct comparison: both drivers started on the Soft tires. Kai pitted on Lap 12. It was now Lap 24, and Leclerc was still out there. The answer couldn't have been more glaringly obvious—
Ferrari was running a split strategy!
The entire paddock drew a sharp intake of breath.
Over the radio, Adami's voice crackled. "Charles, how does it feel?"
"Not great. Kai was right. If we don't fix this specific issue, we can't even begin to execute our race." Leclerc rattled off a rapid-fire string of technical feedback.
Adami, "Copy that. So, are you ready?"
This time, Leclerc didn't answer immediately. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Of course."
A little nervous, but incredibly excited. Leclerc couldn't stop himself from rubbing his hands together, his blood beginning to pump.
One race. Two entirely different strategies. But this wasn't just about winning the Australian Grand Prix; this was a critical, long-term strategic layout for the entire grueling season ahead.
Kai had told them: The problems are right in front of us. We cannot surrender, and we cannot wave the white flag. We have to find solutions. Therefore, we have to look at the big picture.
The first variable: Kai would drive an aggressive, flat-out sprint to accurately map the absolute degradation curve of the Soft tire under maximum stress. Leclerc would focus purely on pace management, mapping the degradation curve of the exact same tire over a significantly extended stint. Different driving styles, different pacing models, perfectly showcasing the distinct talents of the two young drivers.
It was a race, yes. But it was also a massive, live-fire data collection exercise. The SF90's catastrophic long-run performance had to be fixed, "Otherwise, absolutely none of our tactical strategies will ever function correctly."
While everyone else was fixated purely on who would win the season opener, Kai had already begun laying out the master plan for the entire year. Albert Park was merely a single chess piece on a much larger board.
Having the sheer audacity and nerve to treat an official Grand Prix as a glorified practice and testing session purely to gather telemetry data... across the entire Ferrari organization, from top to bottom, Kai was likely the only person crazy enough to actually suggest it.
No wonder even Mekies had said that he could see the ghost of Sergio Marchionne lingering around Kai.
Because the objective of the first variable was fundamentally different, it naturally resulted in Kai and Leclerc adopting wildly divergent race strategies.
Of course, testing is testing, but a race is still a race. Kai had absolutely no intention of simply throwing the Australian Grand Prix in the garbage. Based on his brutal experiences last season, he knew that if you wanted to fight for the World Championship, you couldn't afford to sacrifice a single race. Absolute consistency and unbroken continuity were the most critical bargaining chips.
Therefore, moving on to the second variable: it was finally time for Leclerc to unleash his potential.
He was ready!
Charles Leclerc. A genius. The golden prince of the Ferrari Driver Academy. Yet another massive focal point in the rising tide of the new generation.
Unfortunately for him, Verstappen's explosive debut and Kai's reality-shattering ascension to the heavens had completely overshadowed every other young talent, leaving them looking rather dim by comparison.
Including Leclerc.
However, time acts as a great filter. In the vicious, bayonet-fighting environment of the paddock, true gold will eventually shine. Genuine talent and raw capability cannot be buried forever.
From his karting days all the way through the lower formula categories, Leclerc's raw speed and aggressive attacking capabilities were universally recognized. However, his defensive skills and overall race management were often cited as areas needing significant improvement.
This was most glaringly obvious during his races. He frequently delivered breathtaking, top-tier single-lap performances in Qualifying, only to find himself heavily struggling during the actual Race. This was especially true in the latter halves of stints, when the car suffered from overheating, high track temperatures shattered the setup balance, and various mechanical gremlins began to surface. During those critical phases, he was highly prone to dropping off the pace.
He lacked consistency and stability over long distances.
These criticisms and concerns were ever-present. For Leclerc, the only valid way to respond was through his actions on the asphalt.
Today, in the 2019 season opener, Leclerc took a single set of Red Soft tires and flawlessly managed his pace. He maintained a perfectly stable, consistent rhythm. Even though he was massively dropped by the leading pack, he successfully backed up the entire midfield train behind him, maintaining an iron grip on his track position without a single mistake.
It was genuinely impressive.
Through the first variable, Leclerc had emphatically demonstrated his stability and consistency, miraculously controlling the SF90's terrifying tire degradation curve during a long stint. This stood in stark, glaring contrast to Kai, who was forced to pit on Lap 12. For a significant portion of the race, it left everyone entirely unable to accurately diagnose the true condition of the Ferrari chassis.
Without a doubt, this was a highly critical component of Ferrari's elaborate smokescreen.
But, as anyone could predict, as they transitioned to the second variable, Leclerc was finally entering his comfort zone. He would finally be allowed to unleash his raw talent and showcase his blistering speed at Albert Park. Verstappen? Or perhaps even Hamilton? They were all going to become his targets.
Lap 28. Leclerc finally pits!
A massive gasp of shock rippled through the crowd—
Because Leclerc was the absolute last driver out of all twenty cars on the grid to make his first pit stop. But also because Williams' Sergio Perez was incredibly diving into the pits for his second stop of the day.
Perez, who had already pitted on Lap 1 for emergency repairs, was now making his second stop. It essentially guaranteed he would finish dead last. Normally, absolutely no one would care about Perez's situation. But because Leclerc pitted at the same time, the entire venue's attention was drawn to the pit lane.
Furthermore, Leclerc had completed his stop and exited the pit lane long ago, yet Perez was still stuck in his box. In the hyper-competitive world of F1, where every fraction of a second is violently contested, Perez spent roughly half a century parked in his pit box before finally returning to the track. His total pit lane time exceeded a staggering fifty-five seconds.
"As expected, Williams still hasn't figured out how to build a functioning race car."
The cruel meme born during winter testing was likely going to haunt Williams like a vengeful ghost for the foreseeable future.
The paddock's attention lingered briefly on Perez and the disastrous Williams team, but it didn't last long. Returning to the live feed, everyone instantly recognized the massive shift in the battle narrative—
Exactly as anticipated, the Ferrari Twin Stars had begun to push. Leclerc was actively hunting Verstappen, and Kai was actively hunting Bottas. Ferrari continued to dictate the overarching narrative of the race.
This scene was genuinely difficult to comprehend. Ferrari, traditionally known for being passive, reactive, and sluggish, had completely upended the dynamic. Their entire tactical strategy was systematically outmaneuvering both Mercedes-Benz and Red Bull at every single turn.
Red Bull was one thing, but what the hell was going on with Mercedes-Benz?
Where was Hamilton?
In a daze, people suddenly realized that Hamilton hadn't been shown on the live broadcast feed for a very, very long time. It was as if he had been entirely forgotten by the director.
Was this... normal? What happened to the guaranteed 'Grand Slam', or even the 'Total Slam'? He had been utterly forgotten during the actual race. Was this truly the correct script for Sunday?
However, there was no time to worry about the state of Hamilton's bruised ego right now. Because Kai was methodically, relentlessly obliterating the gap between himself and Bottas—
No holding back. A flat-out, maximum-attack sprint.
Lap 24: 1:27.564.
Lap 25: 1:27.011.
Lap 26: 1:26.765.
Lap after lap, Kai continuously set purple sectors, driving like an absolute maniac. His aggressive, completely uninhibited, forward-charging momentum literally ignited the air above the circuit.
The distance between Bottas and Kai was shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye. Following Hamilton, Kai's second prey had officially entered his crosshairs.
The thick, metallic scent of blood saturated the air.
It was glaringly obvious: Kai had ruthlessly exploited the discrepancy in tire operating windows. The Medium tires on the Number 22 car were sitting directly in their sweet spot, providing optimal grip. Meanwhile, the Medium tires on the Number 77 car, which had just left the pit lane, were rock-hard and practically devoid of grip—
True, the W10 possessed a massive baseline advantage in cold-tire grip compared to the rest of the paddock. But the W10 on cold tires trying to defend against an aggressively driven car on hot tires was an entirely different equation. The W10 was brilliant, but it couldn't magically suspend the laws of physics.
Something was wrong. Something was incredibly wrong!
You didn't need to be a seasoned expert. Even a casual fan with a basic understanding of F1 knew that the scene currently playing out was absolutely, catastrophically abnormal.
On the pit wall, Vowles had already cracked the code. "Valtteri, it's James. Defend your position. I repeat, defend your position."
"Kai is setting up for a two-stop strategy. You need to defend your position with everything you have to completely destroy his strategy. Valtteri, enter maximum defense mode."
Vowles spat the words out in a rapid-fire burst. His heart hammered like a war drum. His mouth was completely dry, his blood was boiling, and a deafening roar echoed in his ears—
Ferrari... they were actually this... clinically insane! To actually attempt a two-stop strategy at Albert Park!
If Vowles remembered correctly, the last time a driver voluntarily opted for a two-stop strategy at Albert Park was back in 2015. It was Nico Hülkenberg, driving for Force India. Two stops. Started fourteenth, finished seventh. It wasn't due to technical failures, and it wasn't due to a Safety Car. It was a pure, deliberate, team-mandated two-stop strategy.
The fundamental reason it was so rare was because Albert Park was notoriously awful for two-stop strategies!
But Ferrari?!
Even though they had sniffed out anomalies earlier, and the possibility of a two-stop had certainly been discussed as a remote contingency, they had absolutely never imagined Ferrari would be crazy enough to attempt it at the season opener.
Bottas doubted his own ears. The massive data dump crashed over him instantly, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. "What?!"
"Kai is on a two-stop. I repeat. Two-stop strategy," Vowles answered immediately. He desperately needed Bottas to focus.
It was fine. It was absolutely fine. Ferrari had chosen to execute a massive, risky gamble, but the ultimate initiative still rested securely in the hands of Mercedes-Benz.
If Bottas successfully defended against Kai with everything he had, then the two-stop strategy wouldn't just fail to reverse Ferrari's fortunes; it would actively mutate into a self-inflicted catastrophe.
The very instant Vowles' voice cut out on the radio, Bottas shot a glance into his rearview mirrors—
Damn it!
That streak of Ferrari red had already breached the DRS window!
There was no time for shock or bewilderment. Bottas instantly shifted into maximum defense mode. He immediately pinned the throttle, desperately trying to pull a slight gap and snap the slipstream.
By doing this, even if Kai forcibly deployed DRS, he wouldn't be able to secure a dominant, aggressive attacking position, granting Bottas a slight defensive advantage.
Directly ahead lay Sector 3! Mercedes-Benz's absolute strongest sector!
Only then did Bottas realize: this was the exact same sector where Kai had brutally ambushed Hamilton earlier. And now, he was brazenly attempting to repeat the exact same trick to execute back-to-back overtakes on both Mercedes-Benz cars.
Fortunately, Bottas had reacted quickly. He wasn't going to fall into the same trap.
Today, Bottas had arrived fully prepared. He was going to defend against Kai. He was going to use his actions on the asphalt to definitively prove he was a driver fully capable of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Hamilton. He was going to let his racing do the talking. Following his spectacular opening-lap overtake on Hamilton, his second massive, career-defining challenge had arrived—
Kai. Bring it on!
The old Bottas was dead. The 2019 version of Bottas was no longer a compliant puppet willing to be manipulated. He was going to force the world to re-evaluate the racer Valtteri Bottas!
Meticulous, delicate, impenetrable, rock-solid, fluid, and continuous—
It was textbook perfection.
The Number 77 car rapidly navigated the complex sequence of medium-speed corners and short straights in Sector 3. His flawlessly precise racing lines and breathtakingly smooth rhythm control were a visual masterpiece. It might not have been a flash of spontaneous, miraculous brilliance, but the absolute, airtight perfection of his execution was equally awe-inspiring. He left absolutely zero openings.
Without a doubt, Mercedes-Benz held a massive advantage in Sector 3. But Bottas was providing far more than just raw car performance. He was extracting the absolute maximum potential out of the machine—
The fact that the W10 dominated all three Free Practice sessions and Qualifying was absolutely no accident.
Similarly, Bottas's brilliant opening-lap overtake on Hamilton was no accident. The "good soldier" was finally ready to stand at the very tip of the spear.
Behind him, Kai maintained a suffocating, aggressive pursuit, but he couldn't find a single crack in the armor.
Not only did he fail to find an opening, but running closely behind in the turbulent, 'dirty air' through the continuous corners was severely punishing his tires.
However, Kai refused to give up. He stayed glued to Bottas's gearbox. The silver and red blurs flowed rapidly across the track. As they entered the low-speed Turn 15, the gap between the two cars visibly widened. Even though Kai remained within DRS range, the naked eye could see the gap stretch from roughly 0.3 seconds to 0.7, perhaps even 0.8 seconds.
Kai was pushing, but Bottas was also accelerating. Even with neither car pushed to the absolute, catastrophic limit, Mercedes-Benz's overwhelming advantage in Sector 3 remained glaringly obvious—
"Ha!"
Wolff laughed. Kai had attempted to replicate his miraculous overtake on Hamilton at Turn 12, but this time, he slammed face-first into a brick wall. All he managed to do was expose his own weaknesses.
Trying to steal a chicken only to end up losing your rice. Serves you right!
The tightly wound tension in Bottas's mind finally relaxed slightly. It seemed Kai had been too arrogant, too desperate for a quick result, and ultimately, it had backfired spectacularly.
However, Vowles did not share their optimism. He refused to believe Kai was that reckless. Didn't Kai know perfectly well the immense difficulties he faced in Sector 3? This young man had literally just planted a flawless, lethal trap for Hamilton in this exact sector. Would he really allow a sudden rush of hot blood to completely destroy his entire master plan?
"Valtteri!" Driven by pure instinct, Vowles shouted a warning over the radio.
Unfortunately, he was still one step too late.
The second DRS detection point at Albert Park was located just before the entry to Turn 14. In other words, as long as the gap between the two cars was under one second at the exact moment they crossed that detection line, DRS activation was permitted in the subsequent designated zone.
Kai exploited this specific rule perfectly. Once he confirmed he was safely within the DRS window, as they navigated through Turn 15, he completely abandoned the strategy of staying glued to Bottas's gearbox. He drastically altered his cornering line. He prioritized securing a vastly smoother, tighter entry trajectory for Turn 16. He flowed seamlessly through the final corner of Albert Park, slightly correcting his angle, executing a flawless, unbroken transition, and rocketing out of the corner with terrifying speed—
Everything hinged entirely on exit speed.
Perhaps in the corners, Ferrari was currently nowhere near Mercedes-Benz's level. But equally true, on the straights, Mercedes-Benz was nowhere near Ferrari's level.
Throttle pinned. Absolute maximum acceleration.
The spectators in the main grandstand could clearly track the Number 22 car's blistering sprint with their own eyes.
DRS activated!
Devouring the gap at a speed visible to the naked eye, he violently latched onto the Number 77 car ahead.
Slipstream!
Rocketing down the main straight, he offered Bottas absolutely zero time to react. At the very end of the straight, he pulled out! And stepped up!
Bottas drew a sharp, terrified breath of cold air. In his panic, his car twitched slightly left and right. Defend the inside line, or the outside line? His subconscious instinct urged him to defend the outside, because in today's race, Kai almost exclusively launched his attacks from the outside line. It was glaringly obvious that Ferrari's mechanical grip on the inside line was inferior to Mercedes-Benz's. Therefore, defending the outside line would force Kai further toward the absolute, perilous limit.
The thought stalled. It was truly just a hesitation of a thousandth of a second. But Kai had already sliced violently to the inside.
Bottas: Fuck.
Against other drivers, Kai's intricate calculations and elaborate traps might require several complex maneuvers to execute successfully. But against an obedient, by-the-book "good boy" like Bottas? One simple feint was more than enough.
Inside line. Extreme late braking. Hit the apex.
A flawless, single motion.
Kai had already preempted Bottas, diving into the Turn 1 Jones Chicane first. Furthermore, he didn't initiate his turn immediately. He intentionally induced a fake understeer, riding the apex and pushing his car a half-car-width further out. Relying entirely on microscopic steering corrections synchronized perfectly with his throttle application, the Number 22 car obeyed his every command, slicing cleanly out of Turn 1 and skimming flawlessly along the outside arc of the Turn 2 left-hander.
Bottas, who had instinctively twitched left to defend the outside line, ended up inadvertently surrendering valuable track space, which completely destroyed his corner exit speed.
In that fleeting, singular instant, the battle was decided. The splash of brilliant red violently ripped free from the silver's entanglement and rocketed away into the distance.
Wolff could barely believe what he was seeing. The triumphant laughter got stuck in his throat—he couldn't spit it out, and he couldn't swallow it down. In the very next second, the earth-shattering, cataclysmic explosion of energy from the main grandstand completely consumed him. The entire Mercedes-Benz garage shook violently.
"KAI!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, Kai has arrived!"
"It's Kai again! It's still Kai! As expected, it is absolutely, undeniably Kai! Kai once again demonstrates his unparalleled racing intellect and terrifying strategic layout capabilities. He cleanly and decisively overtakes Bottas, officially taking the lead of the 2019 Australian Grand Prix!"
"God!"
"You are not seeing things! This is not the 2018 season; this is the 2019 season!"
"Unbelievable!"
He paused, taking a massive, deep breath. Croft looked over at Brundle, utterly unable to hold back his awe. "...WOW!"
The true focal point wasn't simply that Kai was leading the Australian Grand Prix. After all, as the defending Drivers' World Champion and the driver with the most race victories last season, seeing him leading a race was entirely expected. There was no need to panic over that.
The true, staggering focal point was that Mercedes-Benz had completely, tyrannically dominated Friday and Saturday. Yet, in the brutal, head-to-head combat of Sunday, they were being brutally outmaneuvered. Ferrari was continuously authoring miracles through entirely incomprehensible methods, completely shattering all expectations. The waves of shock and awe crashed over the paddock one after another.
However, Brundle maintained his icy composure. The exact same secret Vowles had deciphered had also clicked into place in Brundle's mind—
"Ferrari is executing a massive gamble. If my deduction isn't flawed, Kai has almost certainly opted for a two-stop strategy. The SF90's long-run tire degradation curve is likely completely unsatisfactory."
"Of course, Kai could have chosen to be conservative. Qualify third, finish the race third. Considering the massive, terrifying performance gap displayed during Free Practice and Qualifying, finishing third would still be a highly respectable result for Ferrari. But Kai refused."
"If he played it conservative, his absolute ceiling was third. He would likely even face a severe threat from Red Bull. If the SF90's long-run tire degradation was worse than anticipated, Verstappen would absolutely have the opportunity to execute an overtake. After all, Red Bull comfortably out-paced Leclerc in Qualifying."
"But by choosing to gamble, Kai is proving that his target isn't just a podium finish. His target is the victory!"
"The true test begins right now."
The difficulty was glaringly obvious. It was an insurmountable chasm!
In Brundle's expert, professional opinion, the probability of success was astronomically low. The primary reason was Albert Park itself. It was simply not a circuit conducive to a two-stop strategy, nor was it a circuit well-suited to the Ferrari chassis. But as a fanatical motorsport enthusiast, who could possibly refuse a Kai like this?
Regardless of success or failure, he was charging forward with reckless abandon. Facing down a Mercedes-Benz car that existed on an entirely different, transcendent plane of existence, he still stood tall, issued his manifesto, and backed it up with explosive action.
In the turbo-hybrid era, raw machine performance had become an insurmountable obstacle. The sheer, charismatic brilliance of the individual driver seemed to be slowly buried beneath the overwhelming power of the engineering. Even four-time World Champions like Hamilton and Vettel found their star power dimming slightly, entirely unable to recreate the god-like aura of Senna or Schumacher.
Until now. Kai had made his voice heard—
Overwhelming ambition! Laughing proudly at the entire world! The driver... must be the true, undisputed soul of the Formula 1 battlefield!
Involuntarily, Brundle felt his own blood boil. He was more than willing to follow Kai on this glorious, reckless adventure!
Lap 30. The race leader of the 2019 Australian Grand Prix changed hands for the third time.
Hamilton. Bottas. Verstappen.
And now, Kai!
...
Busy. Deafeningly loud. Operating at maximum heat—
It wasn't just the track; the pit walls were frantically buzzing. Borreipaire was hyper-focused, entirely oblivious to the boiling hot beads of sweat slowly rolling down his face.
"Monitor ERS harvesting rates."
"Upshift/downshift speeds? Hold on, I'll confirm and get right back to you."
"Dynamic brake bias adjustments complete."
Kai was pushing. But 'pushing' didn't mean mindlessly mashing the throttle and charging forward like a blind idiot.
On one hand, the car's fuel load was constantly decreasing. On the other hand, temperatures in various critical components across the chassis were rising. The tire degradation curve was continuously shifting. Simultaneously, all the inherent flaws of the SF90 began to rear their ugly heads. The problems plaguing the season opener were far from minor. They didn't even have time to take a sip of water.
While Kai desperately attempted to extract the absolute maximum ceiling from the current chassis, he heavily relied on the real-time support of Borreipaire and the massive data analysis team operating in the background.
Overtaking Bottas to lead the Grand Prix?
That was merely step two of the strategy. Following the successful overtake on Hamilton, step three was the true, beating heart of the entire master plan.
Kai had to sprint absolutely flat-out. He had to physically tear open a massive pit window.
However, saying it was infinitely easier than doing it. Last year, the successful execution of the overcut was largely facilitated by the timely deployment of the Safety Car. But right now, they couldn't rely on the elusive, unpredictable phantom of a Safety Car—
This year at Albert Park, retirements were still piling up.
McLaren's Sainz retired on Lap 9 due to a catastrophic engine fire. Haas's Grosjean retired on Lap 28 due to a terminal mechanical failure. And, for the second consecutive year, Renault's Ricciardo suffered a mechanical failure, forcing him to retire on Lap 28 as well—his curse remained painfully unbroken.
Incidents popped up one after another. However, the situations were all safely controlled. Both Sainz and Grosjean managed to steer their dying cars off the track and quietly retire in designated safety zones. Ricciardo managed to limp his car all the way back to the pit lane before officially retiring. None of these incidents even triggered a localized yellow flag or speed restriction zone. The overall rhythm of the race remained completely undisturbed.
This year, the relentless, sweltering heat of Albert Park was undeniably causing severe mechanical headaches. But looking at the current landscape, there was absolutely zero sign of an impending Safety Car.
Therefore, Kai had to focus entirely on himself. He not only had to fend off inevitable counter-attacks from his rivals, but he also had to constantly battle the myriad, terrifying flaws of his own machine.
If Kai failed to build a sufficiently massive gap, even if a Safety Car did deploy for the second consecutive year, he would still fail to successfully overcut Bottas.
Based on his current pace, he might not even be able to overcut Hamilton.
Right now, he had to focus entirely on himself and give it absolutely everything he had.
"Lap 31! Kai goes purple!"
"Kai smashes the fastest lap record again! 1:26.367!"
"Good God! Last season at Interlagos, we witnessed Kai shatter the fastest lap record an incredible eighteen consecutive times, orchestrating the most unbelievable victory of the season and authoring a true miracle. But that was in the rain! The track conditions were fundamentally different. Right now, the temperature at Albert Park is still climbing aggressively."
Scorching. Brutal heat. The air was shimmering with a thick, visible heat haze that blanketed the entire circuit. Even just standing passively in the golden sunlight was enough to make your brain feel fuzzy and disoriented.
Suffocating.
Li Lingyu could scarcely believe what Kai was enduring out on the track. Deep in her heart, she couldn't help but silently pray that the horrific disaster of last year's Singapore Grand Prix wouldn't repeat itself.
However, she refused to stand there passively waiting. Because she knew Kai wouldn't. He would stand tall, proudly face the counter-attack head-on, and scream into the void, demanding the storm rage even fiercer.
"Captain!" Li Lingyu stood up, straightened her spine, her fighting spirit blazing. She adamantly refused to bow her head or surrender to the rolling heatwave.
Just moments ago, when Kai was rapidly closing in on Bottas, preparing to launch his strike, the local Australian crowd at Albert Park had been plunged into profound despair as Ricciardo limped back to the pits to retire.
But precisely because of that, Melbourne—acting as Kai's second home turf—saw the shattered hopes of the Australian fans entirely redirected and poured over Kai like a cascading waterfall.
Ah! AHHHHHHHHH!
The entire venue boiled over. A literal, rolling heatwave of sound rolled magnificently across the circuit, directly combating the scorching sun and the brutal heat, issuing an unyielding, defiant roar against fate itself.
Over the radio, Borreipaire couldn't hide his anxiety. "Kai, is the hydration system functioning normally?"
"I'm drinking water right now. Don't worry, Mom." Kai remarkably still had the bandwidth to crack a joke, sounding exactly like an obedient child reassuring his nagging mother.
The moment the words left his mouth, Croft descended into absolute delirium in the broadcast booth.
"Kai! Purple! Three consecutive fastest laps!"
"At this point, Kai is holding absolutely nothing back. He has completely thrown off the shackles and is sprinting flat out!"
"Kai is charging completely alone at the absolute front of the pack. But things are about to get incredibly tricky very quickly. Kai is rapidly approaching the backmarkers. He's about to start lapping traffic."
The entire venue erupted.
It wasn't just the spectators; the Mercedes-Benz pit wall felt the surge as well.
Having waited and waited, the answer was finally revealed. The massive boulder crushing their chests finally hit the floor. Even though the pressure was immense, this at least proved that Ferrari's advantage in long-run race trim wasn't absurd or game-breaking. Quite the opposite: the SF90 likely suffered from severe, systemic flaws, which was the only logical explanation for why they had opted for such an extreme, high-risk strategy.
Furthermore, it wasn't just Kai. The exact same applied to Leclerc.
As long as the root issue wasn't a massive, insurmountable gap in raw car performance, Mercedes-Benz remained brimming with confidence. They firmly believed they could launch a devastating, highly effective counter-attack on the asphalt.
Wolff's muscles tensed. His eyes were glued unblinkingly to the live broadcast monitor—
So what if he set three consecutive fastest laps? Kai's window of clean air was officially closed. He was about to face the agonizing, grueling trial of navigating continuous, heavy traffic.
Heh.
In a way, Ferrari had entirely orchestrated this disastrous scenario themselves.
Because Leclerc had acted as the first variable, meticulously managing his pace and resolutely defending his track position, the entire field had effectively been split into two distinct packs using Leclerc as the dividing line. The leading group had pulled massively, obscenely far ahead. The advantage was so immense that both Williams cars had already been lapped.
Based on current projections, they would likely be lapped a second time before the checkered flag fell.
And it wasn't just Williams. A massive cluster of backmarkers was rapidly entering Kai's field of vision. They were about to become the ultimate wildcard variables dictating the outcome of the race.
The backmarkers didn't even need to actively block Kai. Even if they simply forced him to lift off the throttle and slowed his momentum slightly, Ferrari's wildly optimistic, fantastical strategy would smash face-first into a brick wall.
Ferrari wasn't omniscient. No one could calculate absolutely everything perfectly. And now, Ferrari was about to be forced to drink the bitter wine they had brewed themselves.
The first backmarker: Alfa Romeo's Antonio Giovinazzi.
The Italian driver carrying the heavy hopes of a nation. The former "Prince of Ferrari," who had been deeply entangled in Ferrari's vicious off-season power struggles. He carried immense pressure on his shoulders.
Yet... "Fuck." Wolff couldn't suppress his profound disappointment. Giovinazzi yielded almost instantly, actively throwing himself off the racing line to grant Kai completely unobstructed passage.
Kai didn't lose a single microsecond. He flowed past smoothly, without breaking his rhythm for even a fraction of a second.
Wolff took a deep breath, barely managing to swallow down the rest of his profanities. No wonder Giovinazzi hadn't just lost his seat to Kai, but couldn't even beat Leclerc.
He had absolutely zero spine. He was pathetic!
The second backmarker: Toro Rosso's Pierre Gasly.
Yes, yes, yes, Pierre!
Wolff immediately straightened his spine, placing massive hopes on the young Frenchman. Because he knew Gasly wasn't a pushover. The kid possessed a fiery temper on the track.
In Wolff's eyes, Kai was the primary, root cause of Gasly losing his highly coveted Red Bull seat. Fundamentally, that was the truth. Gasly absolutely needed to use his actions on the asphalt to force Kai to swallow a bitter pill. He was just a sophomore driver. He shouldn't be allowed to act so violently arrogant and dictatorial, demanding whatever he pleased. The paddock was not his personal backyard.
However, "No!" Gasly didn't even put up a symbolic, half-hearted defense. Kai breezed past him on the straight with effortless ease, his momentum entirely unhindered. "No, no, no!"
Wolff literally couldn't believe his eyes. He rolled his eyes hard and stared at the ceiling. Are these guys deliberately trying to give Mercedes-Benz a heart attack?!
This wasn't working. He couldn't just sit here and remain passive—
Defensive offense.
This meant Wolff wasn't opposed to attacking; he simply preferred not to initiate the attack. But when actively attacked, Wolff would absolutely unleash his full, devastating offensive firepower.
"Lewis. Valtteri. Push. PUSH!"