The wind of the circuit howled past the chassis, carrying the shriek of engines. Alex Sun slipped seamlessly into long-run mode, entering a state where man and machine moved as one. The track proficiency he had polished to perfection before the session meshed flawlessly with the system's custom settings designed specifically for him. Every turn clipped the racing line with precision, every braking point was nailed to the millimeter, and he pushed forward from start to finish at the optimal rhythm.
The "Guardian of the Machine" trait was a passive effect, steadily providing a 10% reduction in overall consumption. That advantage was now being fully reflected in the car's performance.
The feedback through his fingertips was clear and immediate. Compared to the familiar feel of the simulator, tire wear in the real car slowed noticeably, and fuel consumption dropped by a visible margin. Even when wringing every ounce of performance out of the car, the degradation rate of both tires and fuel was quietly suppressed by the trait. The sense of control—true unity between driver and machine—was far more intense and solid than anything he had experienced in the simulator.
No additional adjustments were needed throughout the run. His racing line and pace remained astonishingly stable from start to finish.
Medium tyres were built around durability, with an inherent lap-time deficit compared to supersofts. When most drivers ran long stints on mediums, their lap times usually hovered around the middle of the standings, and balancing tire wear with fuel consumption was difficult—often forcing them to back off after barely half the distance.
Alex Sun shattered that convention.
Not only were his lap times firmly locked into the top three overall, the variation was kept within just 0.1 seconds. Stability and speed were both pushed to their limits.
That level of domination lasted until Lap 8. Just as Alex Sun was about to turn into the next corner, Mark's voice suddenly cut through the headset—urgent, tense, and deliberately kept low.
"Alex Sun, box immediately. Don't draw attention. I've checked it three times—the telemetry is way too abnormal. All the equipment's been inspected. There's nothing wrong."
Alex Sun's focus paused for a fraction of a second. He immediately understood Mark's concern. Without asking a single question, he smoothly adjusted his line, eased off the throttle, and headed for the pit lane. His driving remained calm and controlled the entire way, attracting no attention from other teams.
The moment he took off his helmet, Mark grabbed him and pulled him to a tablet tucked away in the corner of the pit lane, deliberately avoiding the mechanics and other team members. He pointed at two sharply diverging data curves, his voice filled with disbelief and caution.
"Look at this. Your tire degradation and fuel consumption are way lower than projected—almost 10% lower than Piastri's long run on the same medium tyres. I've checked everything. The equipment's all normal!"
Alex Sun glanced over the curves, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. He knew perfectly well that this was the effect of the "Guardian of the Machine" trait—but there was no way he could reveal that.
Meeting Mark's incredulous stare, he spoke calmly, his tone sincere and steady. "Don't panic. The data's fine. I haven't been idle lately—I've been refining my driving technique specifically for this. Every corner, every braking input, pushed to the limit. Once the lines and braking are that precise, lower fuel use and tire wear come naturally."
Mark froze for a moment, his finger unconsciously tapping the tablet screen, hesitation still lingering.
Alex Sun continued, sounding almost casual. "You know I've been obsessing over the details of the Baku circuit for a long time, constantly working out the most efficient way to run it. This practice session just happened to be where everything finally clicked."
Mark stared at the data for several seconds, then looked back at Alex Sun's unruffled expression. His doubts evaporated instantly. The wariness in his eyes disappeared, replaced by barely contained excitement.
He suddenly grabbed Alex Sun by the shoulders, his grip tight enough to tremble slightly. His voice was full of elation. "So that's it! I knew there had to be an explanation—this was just too crazy!"
Still holding on, he launched into rapid-fire analysis, his eyes blazing. "This is a massive advantage! In qualifying, we can go all-out on supersofts for the flying lap. Everyone else has to hold something back to avoid mistakes, but you can push flat-out with zero hesitation and go for pole.
"And the real key is the sprint and the race. Other drivers' tyres start dropping off halfway through, but with your efficiency you can hold on for several extra laps. In the race, that's one fewer pit stop compared to our rivals. Stack the lap-time advantage together and that's at least a five-second gap. Even if they catch you later, you'll still have a huge buffer. Our chances of winning just doubled!"
Alex Sun nodded slightly under his grip, his tone still firm and composed. Only he knew how much more stable that advantage really was—far beyond what Mark imagined.
"Let's not lock in the strategy just yet," he said. "I'll run a few more laps to make sure this approach is fully repeatable."
Mark immediately let go and gave his arm a firm pat, urgency and trust clear in his voice. "Alright. Go run it. I'll keep my eyes glued to the telemetry. With this in hand, we're rock-solid at Baku!"
Alex Sun put his helmet back on and rejoined the track. The "Guardian of the Machine" trait continued to work in the background, paired with the deliberately displayed "refined technique." Consumption stayed consistently low, and his lap times remained firmly inside the top three. The sheer dominance even set the commentators buzzing.
Croft's voice rose until it nearly cracked, his words bursting out in rapid succession. "My goodness! This is ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! Fastest on the flying laps, top three on a long run with medium tyres, and the pace hasn't dropped for a second!"
Brundle sounded more measured, his professional analysis tinged with disbelief and curiosity. "One setup dialed in from the first lap, zero adjustments the whole way. Same medium tyres, yet both wear and lap time are completely dominant. Even with a perfect setup, this gap defies logic. Does he really understand Pirelli that well?"
After five more laps, Alex Sun completed the medium-tyre long-run test flawlessly and returned to the pits as planned.
Mark had already compiled all the data. He stepped forward and clapped Alex Sun on the shoulder, his voice filled with excitement and admiration. "Unanswerable. Medium-tyre degradation is 7% to 12% lower than the top drivers, best lap-time stability on the entire track, and still holding top three. These numbers crush everything in the same category."
The mechanics followed procedure, removing the used set of medium tyres and returning them, then fitting a fresh set in preparation for qualifying. The entire process was swift and efficient.
Alex Sun took off his helmet and wiped the light sheen of sweat from his forehead. He had barely caught his breath when the waiting reporters swarmed in, launching straight into post-session interviews.
Their questions focused on the astonishing long-run performance on medium tyres and the unusually low consumption shown in the telemetry, all clearly puzzled by how he had held the top three so comfortably.
Alex Sun handled the questions with ease. "The credit goes to the team's precise setup and my familiarity with the track. Everything came together well. I'll carry this rhythm into qualifying and give it everything."
When pressed further about his consumption advantage, he simply curved his lips slightly and answered in a relaxed tone. "It's really just about understanding the track's rhythm and finding the right driving approach. Once you do that, speed and efficiency come together naturally."
With that single, understated answer, he revealed nothing of substance. His calm composure left the reporters with nowhere else to dig.
As the interview wrapped up, Rebecca, watching from the stands, handed him a bottle of water and teased with a smile, "You were really careful when they kept asking about your secret to saving tires."
Alex Sun took the bottle and twisted the cap open, a faint smile spreading in his eyes as he was about to reply—when his teammate Piastri walked over at a brisk pace.
Piastri's expression was calm, his brow slightly furrowed. His eyes were focused entirely on the technical details, with none of the flamboyance of showmanship—only a quiet, earnest desire to understand the gap.
He had already cross-checked the telemetry multiple times. That persistent 10% consumption difference still didn't make sense. With identical tyres and baseline setup, such an advantage was far beyond the norm. As someone obsessed with details, he wanted to find the key—but he had no intention of turning it into a rivalry.
He subtly positioned himself to block the reporters and spoke in a courteous but serious tone. "Alex Sun, same batch of medium tyres, same base setup. My brake balance is actually more conservative, so in theory my wear should be better.
"How did you manage a 10% advantage? Could you tell me?"
Alex Sun met his gaze, his voice calm and transparent. "There's nothing special to it. This setup just happens to hit my sweet spot. When I drive normally, this is what it looks like.
"You know how it is—it's like instinct. Something that just comes naturally. There's no easy way to break it down and explain it step by step."
As he spoke, he turned toward Mark not far away and raised his voice. "Mark, copy my telemetry from earlier and send it to Piastri."
A faint smile passed through Alex Sun's eyes. As a fellow driver deeply focused on technique, he understood Piastri's fixation on details. Sharing telemetry was only natural—nothing worth making a fuss over.
Piastri froze for a moment, clearly not expecting such a straightforward response. Surprise—and a hint of relief—flickered in his eyes.
Mark immediately went to prepare the data. Moments later, he handed the tablet containing the telemetry to Piastri.
Piastri lowered his head and began reviewing it, his fingers tightening around the tablet. His fingertips traced the precise racing lines and braking points on the screen as he checked the consumption curves frame by frame. Every detail confirmed what Alex Sun had said.
Thinking back to his own questioning and Alex Sun's unreserved sharing, something stirred in his chest. When he spoke again, his tone was more solemn than usual.
"Thanks, Alex Sun," he said sincerely. "I won't forget this."
After a brief pause, competitive fire lit up his eyes. "In qualifying later, I'll give you a tow. Let's keep it fair and see who's faster over a single lap."
Mark leaned in close to Alex Sun, smiling as he whispered, "He's genuinely moved. With his slipstream, our chances of grabbing pole just went up again."
Alex Sun watched Piastri studying the data, tapping the bottle lightly with his fingers. A sharp, confident edge curved his lips. "Alright. Let's see."
The morning practice session came to an end, the roar of engines gradually fading from the circuit. With Piastri's promised slipstream and the core advantage provided by the "Guardian of the Machine" trait, Alex Sun looked out toward the track with unwavering confidence. The fight for pole position in the afternoon qualifying session now felt firmly within his grasp.
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
p-@-treon/GhostParser (20 Chapters Ahead)
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.