(Dear readers, since the author has never had hands-on experience with F2 or F1 cars, all on-track operations described in this book are based on lap-time data and driving analysis from top drivers on Racenet. If anything differs significantly from reality, please feel free to point it out.)
(This is a fan-made work of fiction. Real-life drivers and events may be referenced, but all portrayals and outcomes are fictionalized for narrative purposes.)
"BOOM!!!"
Violent vibrations surged up his spine as the 1.6T turbocharged engine tore through the air, its roar exploding in his ears like thunder. This wasn't the distorted sound pumped through simulator speakers—it was the real thing, heavy with metallic resonance. Every pulse of sound made his eardrums tingle, his chest vibrate violently, and even his breathing turned thick and labored.
Alex Sun snapped his eyes open. His vision was washed in a hazy glow, taking several seconds before it finally focused. The first thing he saw was the carbon-fiber cockpit surrounding him, its deep black weave clearly visible. Cold, rigid, and claustrophobic, it locked him tightly into a narrow space.
The steering wheel in front of him was crammed with buttons: a red emergency engine kill switch, a blue pit-lane speed limiter, silver paddle shifters, and countless rotary dials labeled with professional markings like "TC" and "DRS." Some glowed faintly green, exuding a precise, almost clinical mechanical feel.
At the center of the wheel, the red "Prema Racing" logo stood out sharply. The anti-slip rubber along the edges had been polished smooth from long-term, high-intensity use. A six-point harness pinned him firmly into the seat—shoulder straps, lap belts, and crotch straps pressed tightly against his body, making even the slightest movement difficult. His gloved fingers clenched the wheel, knuckles whitening, palms already slick with cold sweat.
A sharp, choking mix of smells filled his nose: high-octane fuel, burnt rubber from tire friction, hot air from engine cooling, with a faint undertone of sweat and leather. It made him want to cough, but all he could manage was a muffled grunt.
"What the hell…?" Alex Sun instinctively tried to raise a hand to rub his temples, only to be stopped cold by the harness.
The memory before he lost consciousness came flooding back.
After the 2025 Abu Dhabi season finale, he'd been arguing furiously with online trolls in front of his computer, complaining that Norris had been driving what was basically a Mars rover yet still needed the final race to clinch the championship—calling its merit questionable at best. Then came the retort: "If you're so good, why don't you drive?"
That single line sent him over the edge. He slammed the desk, knocking over a cup of water. The spill soaked into the PC tower, triggering an electric shock. A wave of numbness swept through his body—and then everything went black.
And when he woke up, this was what he saw.
He was just an ordinary F1 fan. No professional racing background, no automotive engineering knowledge. For four years, he'd relied entirely on obsession and simulator practice, but limited talent and weak physical conditioning had kept his lap times stuck at a plateau. The professional circuit had always been an unreachable dream.
Yet now, he was sitting inside a real race car cockpit.
"Sun! What are you spacing out for?!"
A technician's impatient shout cut through the engine noise over the radio. Alex Sun turned his head to the left, just in time to see the man slap the cockpit wall hard. His tone was cold, edged with irritation.
"Why haven't you started your warm-up lap yet? Did your sponsor send you to Bahrain for winter testing just so you could sit here daydreaming?"
Bahrain? F2? Prema Racing?
In his previous life, Alex Sun had been an ordinary guy with one obsession: F1 and sim racing. Over four years, he'd practically driven every F1 circuit available in simulators. He knew the teams, the drivers' styles, the rules—inside and out.
But that was all theory.
Now, he was truly sitting in a race car, on the Bahrain circuit known for its long straights and brutal bumps.
Real F2 winter testing was unforgiving. Each day was split into two two-hour sessions, morning and afternoon, packed with setup feedback, tire adaptation, and countless other tasks. Yet the body he'd taken over was just as mediocre as his old one—average talent, poor physical condition. It made Alex Sun suspect this was simply himself in a parallel world, someone who had chosen racing instead.
Before winter testing, the original driver's simulator lap times had been more than two seconds slower than his teammates, far beyond the team's tolerance. He'd already been put on the chopping block, with the team waiting to see how the reserve driver performed during testing. If the reserve's lap times looked good, the original driver would be cut on the spot and replaced immediately.
Alex Sun smiled bitterly. This was a nightmare start.
Dropped into a parallel world with no preparation, already sitting in an F2 cockpit—how was he supposed to avoid elimination?
Just as his thoughts churned, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind:
[F1 Legend System activated successfully]
A translucent blue virtual panel appeared before his eyes, hovering without obstructing his view of the outside world.
[Emergency Mission Issued: Complete one full lap of the Bahrain Circuit (no wall contact, no spins)]
[Mission Reward: Unlock Driver System, 10 free ability points, F2 Driver Basic Physical Enhancement]
[Failure Penalty: Revoke current F2 driver status, return to original parallel world]
A system.
The classic cheat for transmigrators had finally arrived.
Alex Sun's heart tightened. In his previous life, it was the lack of a clear path forward that had trapped him in a four-year simulator bottleneck. This system was exactly what he needed—a way to turn dreams into reality.
He understood perfectly what this meant.
This was his only chance to escape mediocrity and step onto the professional stage.
Alex Sun took a deep breath, forcing down the panic as his gaze sharpened. He knew his current body couldn't endure sustained 3–5G lateral forces through F2 corners—but if he wanted to complete the mission, if he wanted that distant F1 dream, he had no choice but to endure.
He followed standard F2 warm-up procedure. A flick of the paddle—first gear. Left foot easing onto the clutch, right foot pressing the throttle smoothly, stabilizing the revs at 5,500 rpm. The car rolled steadily out of the pit box.
Exiting the pit lane, he pressed the blue button to disengage the speed limiter. Keeping the throttle steady, he let the revs climb gradually to 8,000 rpm as the car began to accelerate.
The feedback from a real F2 gearbox was far clearer than anything in a simulator. Each upshift came with a distinct vibration as the gears meshed, the power delivery far more aggressive. Drawing on instinct, he floored the throttle once the rear tires found grip and snapped the upshift paddle cleanly—third gear, fourth gear. The speedometer swept past 150 km/h, then 200 km/h, finally breaking 210.
At that speed, brutal longitudinal G-forces slammed him into the seat. His neck screamed with pain, heat and pressure filled his helmet, and the edges of his vision darkened.
This was normal. Professional drivers trained their necks for years to handle it. With no such foundation, Alex Sun could only tense his core, press his head hard into the headrest, and endure through sheer willpower.
The V6 engine's roar merged with the pounding of his heart. Deep down, he made a silent vow.
He would finish this lap.
This was the life he wanted. This was why he loved racing.
His eyes locked onto the track ahead. The Bahrain circuit layout was burned into his memory. Turn 1, a heavy-braking hairpin after the pit exit—entry speed around 80 km/h, apex tight to the inside curb, throttle applied progressively on exit to avoid rear slip. Turn 2 followed immediately, a tight left-hander requiring precise alignment and a clean run over the inside curb at full throttle.
"Steady… steady…" he murmured.
The engine thundered. Mark's radio call—"Hold your line"—faded into the background. There was nothing else now. Just the track, the car, and the racing line in his mind.
A real car's feedback was infinitely richer than a simulator's. Every bump, every vibration, every change in grip flowed through the steering wheel in real time.
There was no margin for delay.
At 125 meters before Turn 1, he stamped on the brakes. Speed bled off sharply. At 50 meters, he began easing off while turning in, executing a clean, textbook trail-braking maneuver.
The car clipped the apex perfectly. The right-side tires brushed the curb with a light hop. He feathered the throttle, maintained exit speed, and cleared Turn 1 smoothly. The lateral G-forces still made his body protest, but it was far more manageable than the straight-line acceleration.
Onto the short straight, he upshifted to third gear, speed climbing past 150 km/h again. He tried to roll his neck slightly, only to find the harness locked him in place. His eyes stayed glued to the braking marker for Turn 2.
A subtle steering input. Clean apex. The car drifted out toward the right-side curb. With heavy lateral G loading, he blasted through Turn 3 flat-out and onto the second straight.
His gaze snapped to Turn 4's braking point. At 100 meters, hard on the brakes again—fifth gear down to third. He turned in, gradually releasing brake pressure, fed in half throttle at the apex, then went full throttle once the car straightened.
Turns 5 through 7 formed the heart of the Bahrain circuit—a flowing sequence of medium-speed corners demanding rhythm and precision.
He held third gear throughout, anticipating each braking point. Turn 5 was taken at a steady 170 km/h. Turns 6 and 7 followed an "outside–inside–outside" line, minimizing steering input and preserving speed, relying on aerodynamic downforce to keep the car planted.
This section punished his body. Continuous lateral G-forces made his arms ache, his vision blur at the edges. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to breathe steadily.
Turn 8 followed immediately—a heavy-braking hairpin once again. Alex Sun executed another clean trail-braking entry and emerged onto the short straight leading to Turn 9.
Turn 9 was straightforward. The real challenge lay ahead.
Turn 10—the most difficult corner on the entire Bahrain circuit. A downhill, blind entry demanding absolute precision to carry speed onto the long DRS straight that followed.
Thankfully, Alex Sun knew this corner inside out from the simulator. Fixing his eyes on the faint track markers ahead, he made minute steering corrections and slipped through cleanly.
No incident—but Mark's voice came through the radio, unimpressed.
"Too slow through the corner. Telemetry shows you lost half a second there compared to your teammate."
Turns 11 through 15 posed little difficulty. Alex Sun handled them smoothly and burst onto the start-finish straight.
As he crossed the line, the virtual panel reappeared:
[Mission Complete. No wall contact recorded. Meets no-major-error criteria.]
He eased off the throttle, downshifted to third, and completed a slow cool-down lap. After passing Turn 15 again, the pit entry came into view. He guided the car into the pit lane, gradually bleeding off speed, and stopped neatly in his designated box.
The moment the engine shut down, silence fell.
All that remained was his heavy breathing and the hammering of his heart.
He leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes, and let the emotions wash over him. That lap had been a fight for survival—and the first step of an entirely new life.
Real-world racing was far more demanding than any simulator. Braking precision, shift timing, controlling the body under G-forces—every aspect required real experience.
And he had only just begun.
Alex Sun called up the system panel in his mind.
[F1 Legend System]
[Host: Alex Sun]
[Status: Prema Team F2 Test Driver]
[Current Event: 2021 F2 Bahrain Winter Test]
[Driver System – Ability Panel (0–100):
Launch Control: 40
Driving Technique: 50
Resource Management: 30
Track Tactics: 40
Physical Endurance: 30
Emergency Reaction: 30]
[Available Ability Points: 10]
[Available Mission Reward: F2 Driver Basic Physical Enhancement]
[Current Mission: None (Main Quest available: "Establishing a Foothold in F2")]
The stats were about what he'd expected. Low Resource Management and Emergency Reaction exposed his lack of professional training, while Physical Endurance at 30 was nowhere near F2 standards.
Driving Technique and Track Tactics, however, benefited from years of simulator grinding and race knowledge.
After a brief calculation, he decided to dump all ten points into Driving Technique first—close the lap-time gap, survive elimination.
Because at this stage, every single point was capital.
Capital to keep racing.