Chapter 110: Reality Far Surpasses Fantasy
Wu Shi's answer made Niki Lauda smile.
Interesting. Sharp. Confident.
Exactly the kind of young driver he enjoyed talking to.
Lauda gestured lightly toward Toto Wolff.
When it came to discussing cooperation, it would naturally be the team principal—the man who ran Mercedes-AMG Petronas and owned part of it—who handled the details.
"Let's start with an introduction," Toto said.
Wu Shi gave a polite smile. Leaders all seemed to enjoy this ritual, even if the file in Toto's hands likely knew more about him than he did himself. There was no need to list every result. Only the essential truth mattered.
He looked Toto straight in the eye.
"If I drive the same car, I will always be the fastest."
Toto's tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.
Arrogance?
Maybe.
But the scary part was—so far, everything Wu Shi said had been true.
He couldn't refute the statement, so he shifted angles.
"Before F1, every driver is a prodigy who has beaten a crowd of others," Toto said. "But once they enter F1, the reality is different."
"Yes," Wu Shi nodded, calm. "But those prodigies you mentioned are the ones I've already defeated."
The confidence was unmistakable.
Toto wasn't offended—far from it. No top team wanted a timid driver, least of all someone like Toto Wolff. Wu Shi continued, voice steady and unwavering:
"If the team can build a car capable of one minute thirty, then I can drive it in one twenty-nine point five. I can take responsibility for my half-second."
Toto's expression shifted.
This… this aligned perfectly with his own philosophy.
He always believed championships were won by the team—and every member must be responsible for their share of performance.
He often used the phrase: "Everyone must contribute their tenth."
But that was metaphorical.
This kid just claimed responsibility for five tenths—and he sounded like he meant it.
Still, reality remained.
Before arriving, he and Lauda had already discussed the facts: Mercedes had Hamilton and Rosberg—two proven world-class drivers. Wu Shi's achievements were remarkable, but all in junior formulae. And he was young. Very young.
Talent meant potential, but youth meant unpredictability.
Toto folded his hands and leaned back.
"We're prepared to offer you the position of third driver."
Wu Shi blinked.
Sid opened his mouth, but Wu Shi raised a hand and spoke first.
"Sir, I already have an F1 seat lined up. Do you think I can't take all twenty-one wins this season in F3?"
"Of course you can," Toto nodded. "That's why we're talking today."
"Then why," Wu Shi countered, "should I accept being a third driver?"
His tone was sharp—bordering on offensive—yet Toto didn't mind. He understood that mentality. Before becoming a team principal, he had been a racer too. Any driver with real ability thought: "Only I can do it."
But Mercedes operated differently from Red Bull.
They valued stability, long-term planning, proven experience. They didn't gamble.
Historically, they had tried recruiting Verstappen as well, but—just like now—they offered him a third driver role. It was only because Helmut Marko appeared out of nowhere, waving a metaphorical SSR card, that Red Bull beat them to it.
Toto still quietly regretted losing Verstappen.
And now, here was another anomaly.
Another dangerous talent.
Another driver who might slip through his fingers.
After a long silence, Toto finally said:
"We're willing to give you an F1 seat."
Wu Shi nodded calmly.
Sid, however, nearly burst into a grin.
A guaranteed seat was infinitely more reliable than the volatile promises LaFerrari had dangled before. And with Ferrari's internal chaos recently surging, Martina had even warned Sid: secure the contract the moment Wu Shi hits twenty-one wins, before the board could interfere.
"But," Toto added, "not a Mercedes seat. Not in 2015."
Expected.
Mercedes didn't lack elite drivers.
A customer team seat was the realistic entry point.
Likely Sauber if through Ferrari, or a Mercedes client team otherwise.
Since Wu Shi had already shown strength in negotiations, Sid softened his tone.
Negotiations were like racing—one needed to know when to brake.
"We understand your caution," Sid said. "Drivers outside F1 do need a stage to prove themselves."
Mercedes had leverage with their customer teams.
Opening a seat wasn't hard for them.
So the promise was solid.
"Williams," Toto said directly.
Of course.
His old team.
Wu Shi's mind flashed back to Monday night. He had eliminated McLaren and Force India, leaving Williams as the only possible path—and even then, he thought the odds were slim.
But that night, something had clicked.
Massa and Bottas were excellent. No question.
But so was he.
If even Verstappen—future world champion—was being beaten by him now, then he was already one of the strongest of his generation.
Why should he think himself inferior to Bottas or Massa?
If anything—they should be wondering whether they deserved to keep their seats.
Williams had history, yes. But since Claire Williams took over operational control, the team had been spiraling. Only Mercedes' engine advantage in 2014–2015 kept them afloat.
Still—not a title-contending team.
Wu Shi inhaled, straightened his back, and ignored Sid's warning glance.
"Williams is a great team for a rookie," he said. "But sir, you are the team principal of Mercedes. Shouldn't we be discussing a Mercedes seat?"
Sid stared at him, horrified.
You got a foot in the door of F1—why try to kick it down?!
Lauda laughed softly.
"It's good for young men to have fire," he said. Then to Toto: "You managed Williams two years ago—but today we are Mercedes."
Wu Shi's heart jumped.
Lauda… was helping him.
Toto was stunned.
The old man was pushing hard for this kid. Why?
Because Lauda had always had a sixth sense for champions.
Still… Wu Shi was only 15 years and five months old.
Most kids his age were barely learning basic aerodynamics; Wu Shi was demanding a Mercedes seat.
Toto exhaled slowly.
"I already have drivers competing for the world championship," he said. "Why should I sign you instead of them?"
Wu Shi didn't blink.
"Some drivers need the fastest car to fight for a championship," he said. "I don't. Even if Mercedes isn't the fastest, I can keep the title fight alive."
Lauda applauded.
Toto frowned.
"Lauda, don't encourage him. Even if he joins Williams, we can always bring him back later. Williams will show whether he can handle F1 pressure."
Toto paused again, struggling.
If he signed Wu Shi now and the boy failed, it would fall entirely on him.
Finally—
"…Let's test him."
"Test?" Sid asked.
"Tomorrow," Toto said. "A private test session. If you're as good as you claim, I'll consider your request. But if you fail—you may not even get the Williams seat."
"Deal!" Wu Shi said instantly.
Sid reached out, trying to stop him—but the handshake was already done.
This kid!
He abandoned a guaranteed seat… for a shot at Mercedes?!
"I think," Sid said quickly, "we should choose a more moderate approach."
"Oh?" Toto smiled. "That's what I was thinking, too."
Wu Shi froze and looked at Sid.
Sid shook his head slightly. Keep cool.
Then Lauda spoke, decisively:
"Enough. I'll decide. If he meets our performance standard, he gets a Mercedes seat. If he doesn't, he gets the Williams seat."
Toto nodded. Decision made.
"Now," Toto said, "let's discuss the benchmark. In the test, you must set a top-three qualifying time—and the fastest lap."
Sid inhaled sharply.
"That's acceptable—if Williams is guaranteed," Sid said.
"That," Toto replied, "is not up for negotiation."
His gaze locked onto Wu Shi.
"You're arrogant. Let's see if you can back it up."
Wu Shi stood firm.
"No problem. As long as you unlock the car's qualifying mode, pole position is possible."
In truth, he wasn't certain.
Conditions, setup, adaptation time—everything was stacked against him.
F1 cars were monsters, far more complex than anything he had driven.
He would have barely any time to understand it.
But he had to meet the standard.
That half-second he promised Toto?
Tomorrow, it would be time to deliver it.
Lauda smiled.
"If he backs down now," he said quietly, "then everything before this was just noise and youthful ignorance."