"Straight line, accelerating!"
"Kai Zhizhou looks to the outside! Hyman defends, crossing over to block the line!"
"Beautiful! A brilliant defense from Hyman! Excellent positioning!"
"Hyman refuses to repeat the tragedy of Spain! In the final stages of the race, he's showing incredible defensive skill, holding off wave after wave of attacks from Kai!"
"Wait."
"Wait!"
"A dummy! Kai's look to the outside was a fake! He cuts right, diving to the inside! He's lunging up the inside of Turn 4!"
"Hyman has lost the position!"
"Mid-corner! Control! Rhythm!"
"Unbelievable! Kai's braking, steering, and throttle control are breathtaking! He's suppressed Hyman purely on mid-corner rhythm!"
"Kai exits first!"
"Kai accelerates away!"
"Overtake complete! He takes the lead!"
"Kai Zhizhou leads the 2017 Austrian GP3 Sprint Race!"
"Oh my God! Oh my God!"
"For three full laps, Hyman's defense was absolutely stellar. He even blocked the line in the Turn 1 DRS zone, giving Kai zero chance to attack. But Kai's calm strategy still fooled him. The attempt in the DRS zone was just a probe, a setup!"
"The real killer move was in Turn 4!"
"Kai didn't even need DRS! Relying on a feint to the east to strike in the west, he turned Hyman whose nerves were stretched to the breaking point into a puppet on a string. Hyman scrambled to cover the outside, and Kai used his unparalleled car control to pass mid-corner, taking the lead in one fell swoop and instantly building a gap!"
"Wow..."
"WOW!"
"With three laps to go, Kai Zhizhou is the race leader. He is just three laps away from writing a new page in GP3 history!"
Excited. Passionate. Blood boiling.
David Croft jumped out of his seat, his commentary like machine-gun fire, sweeping across the broadcast. He waved his arms like a child, but even that wasn't enough to vent his exhilaration.
He turned to see a dumbstruck Martin Brundle and burst out laughing. A scene like this was too rare, too precious.
Sunday morning. The Red Bull Ring.
Like yesterday evening, the paddock wasn't fully awake yet, but the GP3 Sprint Race had kicked things off, and more eyes were watching than usual.
The focus, again, was Kai Zhizhou.
Starting from P8. Attacked from behind by Boccolacci. Blocked from ahead by his three ART teammates. He was surrounded.
But once the race started, Kai, carrying the weight of pressure and expectation, showed his fangs again. He carved through the field, launching another assault on the podium.
Russell, burdened by high expectations, seemed to crack under the pressure, performing below his usual level and failing to trouble Kai.
Instead, it was the unassuming Hubert who drew Kai into a dogfight. It took five full laps of methodical setup for Kai to close the gap, use a beautiful line through the corners to gain exit speed, and finally pass Hubert with DRS into Turn 1.
The back-and-forth battle had the crowd roaring.
Then, when Kai caught Alesi, the Trident driver was predictably aggressive, defending so fiercely that the two cars made contact in Turn 9.
The collision drew the stewards' attention. Alesi was penalized five seconds for causing a collision.
Fortunately, the contact didn't cause major damage. Neither Alesi nor Kai retired or lost position, and the battle raged on.
And then, the crowd witnessed that moment. Kai passing Hyman to take the lead.
Vroooom! VROOOOM!
Pandemonium.
A double win in Spain could be called luck, a rare low-probability event, like getting hit by bird poop on a sunny day.
But to sweep the Austrian weekend as well? That meant Kai would become the second driver in junior formula history (after Verstappen) to sweep two consecutive weekends. It meant he had maintained a 100% win record since the start of the GP3 season.
Unthinkable!
Even imagining it felt impossible.
And the protagonist was... Kai Zhizhou. A 17-year-old who had popped out of a rock, with no karting or formula resume, coming from the mysterious East. It was all wrapped in a dazzling aura, like a myth from One Thousand and One Nights.
The shock was visceral.
Just twelve hours ago, after his Feature Race win, Kai had been mocked by the paddock. People swore the Sprint Race would reveal the truth, that his halo would fade and his true form would be exposed.
So, was this the truth?
Champion?
Starting P8 and climbing all the way to the top again?
Carving a bloody path through an ambush of wolves and tigers, dominating with skill that shocked the world, turning all his rivals into background characters?
If this was the truth, the haters had certainly gotten what they asked for.
Facing doubt and siege, Kai responded in his own way: a slap to the face. Crisp and loud. And then a backhand to the other cheek. Left and right, leaving the haters spinning, dizzy and disoriented, suppressing the doubts that had just begun to rise like a whirlwind.
For a moment, the haters held their breath, lost in confusion.
What is happening? Who am I? Where am I? How is this possible?
The paddock was waking up. F2 and F1 personnel were arriving for work, and they heard the news immediately.
Jos Verstappen had just arrived when someone leaned in, grinning. "Jos, Max's record is about to be broken."
Jos froze. Reflexively, he shot up his middle finger and unleashed a stream of profanity before ending with a succinct, "Get lost."
The paddock was used to Jos's style; no one was scared. "If you don't believe it, look for yourself."
Jos stormed into the ART garage area. He didn't care where he was. He stopped at the first monitor he saw, glaring at the screen, watching the race unfold.
The ART #2 car and the Campos #27 car were battling. Although the #27 was trying to raise the pace and stick close, anyone with eyes could see the #2 was calmer, controlling the rhythm, shutting down every attack angle.
Steady. Dominant.
With the race nearing its end, there was no doubt the #2 car would cross the line first.
Wait. That meant
Feature, Sprint, Feature, Sprint. That #2 car had won four consecutive races.
Jos's face darkened. "Only four. Four! Max won six in a row, okay? What is this nonsense about breaking Max's record? You think Max's record is that easy to break? Bullshit!"
Cursing and furious, Jos couldn't control his temper.
But Jos wasn't the focus. No one cared about his grumbling. The bustling gazes of the paddock were all converging on the track.
The protagonist was on a rampage. A storm was sweeping through!
One by one, the arrivals heard the news. It was the hottest topic at the Red Bull Ring.
Following his sweep in Spain, the driver who popped out of a rock was about to sweep Austria.
Completing the feat at Red Bull's home track, becoming the first driver since Verstappen to sweep all races in two consecutive weekends. Writing a miracle.
GP3 was attracting unprecedented attention. Especially after witnessing Verstappen's meteoric rise, people knew what this meant.
Hearts surged. Blood boiled.
Compared to the difficult-to-pass Barcelona, the Red Bull Ring provided a stage for drivers to unleash their attacking talent. And this time, Kai had unleashed the flamboyance and unruliness in his bones without reservation, completely dominating the race.
Then, the world went quiet. The roar of the engine seemed to slam against the heart. The blood felt like it was about to burst.
Thousands of eyes focused on the track, witnessing the red-and-black streak tear through the green landscape with unstoppable momentum, forming a storm that banished all other noise into the void. Everything else faded; only that afterimage remained.
Lewis Hamilton had just arrived. He hadn't heard the rumors yet, but he sensed the anomaly in the air.
Subconsciously, he followed the crowd's gaze to the screen, watching the #2 car pass Turn 10 and thunder across the finish line.
Ah!
Cheers erupted. The crowd exploded!
Ahhhhh!
A wave of heat crashed down. The overcast sky seemed to crack with thunder. Hamilton looked up, worried about rain, but instead saw a ray of sunlight tear through the gloom. The grey world instantly brightened, like the birth of a universe.
"Kai Zhizhou!"
"Kai Zhizhou!"
"Champion! Kai Zhizhou! Following Spain, Kai has once again achieved the feat of starting 8th and fighting his way to the Sprint Race victory!"
"Such an incredible feat has only been achieved by a handful of drivers in history five, to be exact. But now, Kai has done it twice in one month."
"This 17-year-old driver emerged from an unknown corner to dominate the 2017 GP3 season with a devastating presence. Attack, defense, speed, rhythm he has everything a top driver needs."
"Maybe the only thing he lacks is experience."
"But now, I'm not even sure about that. Four wins in two weekends. With zero prior formula experience. I'm not sure he needs to accumulate experience, because in GP3, he looks like he's in a completely different league from the other drivers."
"We are witnessing the rise of a new star. Perhaps even the dawn of a new era."
Accompanied by Croft's passionate commentary, the gloom over the Red Bull Ring dispersed. The sun emerged, and the world was instantly bright.
Like a revelation.
The entire paddock was in an uproar.
Just two days ago, just twelve hours ago, the discussion about GP3 was lively but contained. Now, it had spiraled out of control, spreading magnificently. The eyes of the gossip-hungry masses gathered.
First, because of Verstappen. His back-to-back sweeps had fueled Red Bull's ambition to promote him.
Now that Kai had replicated the feat, the paddock couldn't sit still. Would Kai also jump straight to F1?
Second, because of Leclerc. The Ferrari prodigy, GP3 champion, F2 leader, the chosen one.
Just moments ago, people were saying Leclerc, spurred by Kai, had unleashed 200% of his energy to dominate, proving he was the only genius comparable to Verstappen. If a team wanted young blood, it should be him.
But now, Kai had responded in kind. His sweep at the Red Bull Ring showcased a comprehensive dominance in both attack and defense, eclipsing Aitken, Alesi, Russell, and Boccolacci. He showed talent that rivaled Leclerc, and even Verstappen.
Where there is collision, there are sparks.
Where there is gossip, there is traffic.
The paddock was no exception.
So, as Kai crossed the line ahead of Hyman, the paddock boiled over.
The paddock had never been this lively because of GP3. GP3 was enjoying unprecedented attention, to the point where F2 and F1 had to temporarily take a back seat. The Red Bull Ring was swept up in the madness of the summer heatwave.
Kai or Leclerc, who is better?Kai vs. Verstappen: whose double-sweep was harder?If Verstappen could be promoted to F1, should Kai get the same treatment?If Kai enters F1 next season, which team fits him best?Obviously, Ferrari won't replace Räikkönen with Kai. But should they? Or should they choose Leclerc?Kai has no history. Should F1 teams follow the hype? Is his success luck or real? Is there capital behind this wave? Will his halo fade?What's wrong with GP3 this year? are the other drivers weak, or is Kai truly in a league of his own?
Blah, blah, blah.
The discussion spread everywhere. No one was immune. Even the morning greetings in the pit lane changed.
"Hey, did you watch GP3?"
"Yeah, that guy won again."
Team staff, journalists, drivers, team principals, owners, fans... no one was left out.
If you weren't discussing it, you were behind the times.
However, the discussion was mostly private. Because the momentum was so fierce, the "old foxes" were watching each other, waiting. No one wanted to be the first to break the silence.
Until Red Bull Team Principal Christian Horner stepped up.
Of course. It was Horner. It was always Horner.
"Incredible. Unbelievable."
"Without a doubt, this is a monumental achievement. I think he did a magnificent job. Ten out of ten? I'd give him a twelve. It was that perfect."
Full of praise, as always. Watching the drama unfold wasn't enough; Horner continued to pour oil on the fire.
He praised Kai to the heavens, as if witnessing the birth of a legend.
"In my career, I have never seen a driver with such spirit and wisdom combined. He reminds me of Ayrton Senna."
"You should look at his understanding of the car and the track. That's the key. The same race looks completely different in his eyes. His approach and interpretation are different from other drivers, so he accomplishes things others can't."
"Imagine, he's only seventeen, and this is only his second official race event. If we give him a little more time, what will he become?"
Worship. Adoration.
However, as Horner waxed poetic, Jos Verstappen circled like a vulture over a corpse.
His irritable, angry gaze was undisguised, landing heavily on Horner's shoulder, ensuring Horner wouldn't miss his presence.
Even the reporters could sense it: Jos was warning Horner.
As mentioned before, the Red Bull situation was complex. Ricciardo was the number one, Verstappen the number two.
Undoubtedly, Verstappen was a rising star, setting records. But he was also controversial.
Hot-headed, reckless, brutal. Perhaps Verstappen was talented, but he couldn't control his temper. He crashed frequently. Whether attacking or defending, he often saw red and ignored the consequences. Chinese fans nicknamed him "Tower Cannon" (塔炮 - aka "Torpedo/Crash Kid").
In 2016, at the Austin drivers' briefing, Verstappen was besieged by veteran drivers like Hamilton, Vettel, and Alonso for his aggressive driving style. They even tried to convince the FIA to create rules to punish his "mutual destruction" style more severely.
Most notably, the usually silent Räikkönen, who refused to get involved in disputes, spoke for over three minutes condemning Verstappen. Anyone who knew Räikkönen knew how serious that was.
Because of this, Verstappen's loophole jump to F1 caused widespread repercussions. The FIA was reforming the rules to prevent it. Lack of experience and being under 18 were seen as factors leading to immature, irrational driving in F1.
Inside Red Bull, although Verstappen had the support of the Austrian side, Jos and Marko knew Horner was waiting for a chance to replace him, or at least weaken their influence. Verstappen's position at Red Bull wasn't as rock-solid as it appeared.
Back to the essence of F1: it's all about interest.
In the face of interest, talent can be unnecessary; you can enter the paddock without it. equally, talent can become worthless; even the gifted can be left without a seat.
The paddock game is, at its core, a battle for benefits.
Jos smelled the danger immediately and was warning Horner.
But clearly, Horner wasn't buying it.
"I still believe age shouldn't limit talent. Look at him. Only seventeen, yet he shows the maturity and calm of a veteran. He's more rational and wise than drivers who have been in the paddock for three or four years. I believe he can create a legacy in the F1 world."
Jos: ...Why don't you just say my Max's name directly?
Although Jos and Horner were fighting, Jos couldn't stop the heatwave from spreading. Other F1 team principals were getting involved.
Clearly, with Verstappen's precedent, when Kai replicated the feat, the media and team principals couldn't ignore it.
Thus, a rare scene occurred: a young GP3 driver's name appeared repeatedly in F1 team principals' press conferences.
Some were covetous. McLaren's Éric Boullier stated that Verstappen's success proved young blood was the future. "Max's first F1 win was in Barcelona. Kai's first GP3 win was in Barcelona. I believe this is a sign. Perhaps the rise of the young generation is faster than we imagine. We should be open to possibilities."
But clearly, Verstappen didn't like the comparison. "I don't think there's any connection."
Some were watching. Claire Williams of Williams Racing represented this group. She believed Kai's talent was impressive and looked forward to the rise of the young generation, but F1 was extraordinary and required experience. They shouldn't rush.
Some didn't care. Vijay Mallya of Force India was the core focus. As the only "Asian" team (Indian), there was immense scrutiny on whether they would bring the first Asian driver to the paddock. But Mallya had no time for this. Reporters never cared how hard it was for a team to just survive. "Our focus is on the car. We need a competitive car. We have two excellent drivers and no plans to change the lineup."
In other words: don't bother me.
And some were dismissive.
Ferrari Team Principal Maurizio Arrivabene was the representative. When Leclerc and Kai became the talk of the paddock, Ferrari was undoubtedly in the center of the vortex, as both were FDA drivers. Did this mean Ferrari was ready for its future?
Arrivabene disagreed. "I always believe experience and age are valuable assets. Especially in F1, everything happens too fast. Drivers must trust their instincts and make correct judgments reflexively."
"A young person's instinct is often impulsive, reckless. A veteran top driver's instinct is rational, wise. A driver winning races and championships isn't meaningless; their time on track accumulates into a precious asset, becoming an instinct for victory."
"I understand the excitement when fresh blood appears, but I believe they need more time."
Although Arrivabene was restrained, it was clear: he wasn't interested in young drivers. Not Kai, not Leclerc.
No wonder! When rumors were flying before, Ferrari had stayed out of it. People thought Ferrari was laughing in the background, but now they knew: Ferrari just didn't care.
So, did this mean Leclerc and Kai weren't on Ferrari's radar? Did it mean the doors to other teams were officially open?
The noise was boiling over. But what about the person at the center of the storm? The super rookie who had popped out of a rock? Was he celebrating wildly?
"...At Turn 4, how did you spot it? That it was all a feint?"
"Honestly? I didn't. Your attack was too ferocious. I didn't have time to react. It wasn't that I saw through the feint; I just didn't see it at all."
The honest Hubert looked at Kai and dropped an unexpected answer.
Then, seeing Kai's dumbfounded expression, Hubert burst out laughing.
Kai rubbed his nose. "Okay, now I know what it feels like to outsmart yourself." He changed his tone, looking serious. "Antoine, rest assured, I definitely didn't mean to imply you weren't smart enough... Oof!"
Hubert didn't let him finish, elbowing him in the ribs.
Kai shouted dramatically, "ART infighting! Disaster! Internal discord caught by reporters!"
Hubert put him in a headlock and dragged him toward the pit lane. They wrestled and laughed.
In truth, Hubert wasn't satisfied with his Sprint Race. Starting P5 but getting passed by three teammates and finishing P7 meant he had lost the internal battle.
But Hubert didn't wallow. He faced his setbacks frankly and actively learned from his rivals.
Luckily, Kai didn't hide his secrets. He answered every question, happy to share his thoughts, treating Hubert as an equal.
Not far away, Russell watched them, a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't understand how Hubert could still smile. But thinking of his own performance, he didn't have time to worry about Hubert. His eyes dimmed. His own mess was the real trouble.
Feature Race P2. Sprint Race P6.
Logically, these were good results. But Russell couldn't be satisfied.
Forget comparing himself to Kai; in the Sprint Race, he had even been passed by Aitken. In the head-to-head battles, he hadn't been competitive.
Russell couldn't forgive himself
"Fuck!"
Then, he saw Toto Wolff walking toward him in the pit lane.
Subconsciously, Russell wanted to run. He had no face to stand before Wolff. Months ago, he had confidently sworn that if Wolff gave him a chance, he would give him a world championship. And now?
Russell froze, unable to move forward or turn back.
Wolff approached, but he didn't walk toward Russell. He walked toward... Kai and Hubert.
Russell's heart stopped.
Even though he wasn't ready to face Wolff, that didn't mean he wanted to be ignored by him.
The nineteen-year-old's face went pale. Soul-crushed, he walked toward the ART garage, silently disappearing from Wolff's line of sight.
"Congratulations. Brilliant race."
Wolff stood in front of Kai, looking kind, a smile of appreciation on his face.
"Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Toto Wolff. Racing enthusiast."
Kai understood immediately. Looking at the Mercedes shirt, a smile appeared in his eyes. "So, do you need an autograph, or a photo?"
Wolff laughed heartily. "Haha, next time there's a fan session, I'll remember to line up. For now, I just wanted to say, the battle with Antoine today was fantastic. That was the highlight of the Sprint Race."
"If Antoine hadn't tangled with you for so long, overheating his brakes, he wouldn't have been in such a tough spot later."
Hubert scratched his head shyly, a bit constrained in front of a big shot like Wolff.
Kai grinned. "That's why I'm apologizing. I'm planning to treat Antoine to a big meal tonight."
Wolff nodded repeatedly. "Yes, indeed. A big meal is very necessary." He winked at Hubert. "Antoine, remember to order the expensive stuff. Truffles, caviar. Order the most expensive things on the menu, understand?"
Standing aside, Kai didn't argue. He silently looked up at the sky and wiped a fake tear from his dry eye.
Wolff noticed and laughed out loud, patting Kai's shoulder. "Trust me, you'll be able to afford it soon enough."
Kai tasted the deeper meaning in Wolff's words. "But not yet. Right now, Antoine and I are just poor students with empty pockets."
Wolff raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
The tone was meaningful, as if he knew about the special agreement between Kai and ART.
But Wolff didn't clarify. He changed the subject. "How about this? You bring me the bill, and I'll expense it."
Kai studied Wolff closely. "Team expense, or personal expense?"
Wolff was pleasantly surprised. This kid was sharper than he looked. "Could be personal, could be team. No need to deny the possibilities, right?"
With that, Wolff patted both their shoulders. "Wonderful race. Enjoy today."
A reporter called out nearby. "Toto, over here!"
Wolff, Kai, and Hubert looked over. Camera flashes erupted. Wolff didn't hide; he smiled openly for the cameras. After the flashbulb bath, he walked away.
Hubert was bewildered, unable to react. "Kai, was Toto Wolff just offering to buy us dinner?"
Kai watched Wolff's retreating back. "Antoine, bought off by a single meal? Careful of the sugar-coated trap."
Hubert scratched his head. "These social interactions, calculations... too many variables. Not simple like numbers. I can't calculate it."
Kai laughed happily. "It's okay. Just be yourself, Antoine. not everyone needs to learn how to scheme."
Now, Kai understood why Horner mocked Wolff as a businessman.
Wolff was shrewd, good at calculation and layout. If he wanted to, he could be very charming. Just like now.
But the key was, even when joking, he couldn't hide the arrogance in his bones. He was used to being the superior, controlling the initiative.
So, they had to stay calm and rational, and beware of Wolff's sugar-coated shells.
Following Wolff's path, Kai noticed him heading into the alley next to the ART garage, where he found the despondent Russell.
Clearly, Russell hadn't expected Wolff to come personally. He looked overwhelmed.
Unlike with Kai and Hubert, Wolff appeared affectionate and familiar with Russell. Vaguely, Kai could see Russell rubbing his eyes, wiping away tears.
Kai looked away, his overheated brain cooling down slightly. He put an arm around Hubert's shoulder. "Come on, let's go back and analyze the race data."
Hubert's mind snapped back instantly, bouncing with excitement. "Really? Quick, let's go!"
At the press conference, the reporters didn't miss Wolff either, unhesitatingly throwing questions about Kai at him.
~~----------------------
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