As the laps ticked by, Alex Sun could no longer see Pourchaire's car in his mirrors. He checked in with Mark over the TR about the current track situation.
"Alex Sun, your pace is excellent," Mark's voice came through again, accompanied by live data.
"Pourchaire is being affected by dirty air from the car ahead and can't sustain his earlier attacking rhythm. He's switched to tyre management mode, and the gap between you has opened to two seconds. Drugovich is about three tenths quicker per lap than you, but he's running in fifth and his supersoft tyres won't last long. He won't be a threat in the short term."
"Understood," Alex Sun replied, glancing at the tyre temperature and wear data on the dashboard. Everything was well within normal parameters, so he settled into his own rhythm.
He knew this better than anyone: Monaco's street circuit is narrow, dominated by low-speed corners, and overtaking is notoriously difficult. As long as he held his line and maintained a stable pace, he could keep the race firmly under control. There was no need to take unnecessary risks just to extend the gap.
Time flew by, and as the race approached the early pit window around lap ten, activity began to stir on track.
"The early pit group is on the move! Drugovich is the first into the pit lane, switching from supersoft tyres to softs—this is a standard early-stop strategy."
Rob Smedley's commentary followed immediately. "Right behind him are Lawson and Sato, both making the mandatory compound swap from supersofts to softs."
In the pit lane, Lawson's crew ran into trouble. The jack hesitated as the car was lifted, and the delay caused the tyre change to take far longer than expected.
"Alex Sun, the early stoppers haven't affected your position. Keep your pace—our pit window is around lap thirty," Mark reported calmly.
"Your gap to Pourchaire is holding at 2.1 seconds. Your pace control is near-perfect. Just continue as you are."
"Maintain your current rhythm. Don't let the early stoppers distract you—their strategy is aimed at the midfield."
"Copy," Alex Sun answered succinctly. His fingers continued making fine adjustments on the steering wheel as the car traced precise arcs around the circuit. Every corner entry and exit looked straight out of a textbook.
As the race reached its middle phase on lap twenty-seven, the expected wave of pit stops for drivers on soft tyres arrived.
"Here comes the pit stop wave! Ticktum is in first, switching from softs to supersofts. Right behind him are Daruvala, Piastri, and Beckmann—all opting for the soft-to-supersoft swap," Rob Smedley said, his voice tinged with excitement.
Suddenly, a burst of commotion erupted from the commentary booth.
"Daruvala! He's sped at the pit entry!" Alex Jacques exclaimed. "Race control has already flagged it—he'll be hit with a five-second penalty! That's devastating. He could've rejoined in fourth, but with the penalty, he's basically out of the points."
"Ticktum's rhythm is completely off now," Rob Smedley analyzed. "Looks like his tyre temperatures weren't managed properly during the stop—he's lacking grip."
In the midfield pack, Daruvala lost his composure after rejoining and made light contact with Petecof. Both cars suffered minor damage, debris scattering along the edge of the track as their pace dropped sharply.
"Alex Sun, there's been a collision in the midfield. Watch out for debris and keep running your own pace," Mark warned promptly.
"I see it," Alex Sun replied. His eyes swept over the track ahead as he smoothly avoided the scattered fragments and continued forward without disruption. For him, the chaos in the midfield not only failed to interfere—it actually widened his effective gap to the cars behind.
On lap thirty, Alex Sun entered the pit window as planned.
"Alex Sun, box, box. Softs to supersofts. We're pitting on the same lap as Pourchaire and Vips," Mark instructed. In the pit lane, the crew were already fully prepared, tools laid out in advance.
Alex Sun guided the car cleanly into the pit lane and stopped precisely on his marks.
"Tyre change!" a mechanic shouted. The jack snapped up, and the tyres came off and on in one fluid motion, lightning-fast.
"2.4 seconds! Fastest stop of the race!" Rob Smedley exclaimed. "Alex Sun's crew are phenomenal—this is championship-level execution!"
On pit exit, Alex Sun carefully controlled his speed and rejoined the track smoothly. Thanks to pitting on the same lap as his closest rivals, there was no undercut risk. His gap to Pourchaire had now grown to 3.5 seconds, and he remained solidly in the lead.
From the commentary box, Rob Smedley spoke with clear conviction.
"Alex Sun has controlled this race from the moment he made the overtake at the start. His rhythm has never faltered!
With a 3.5-second lead and just twelve laps to go, barring anything unexpected, we can almost start summing up his first feature race victory already!"
No sooner had those words been spoken than the calm was shattered. On lap thirty-one, Alex Sun's first lap after the pit stop, a sharp screech of brakes and a loud crash echoed from the Rascasse corner. A black, white, and red car lay stranded sideways across the track.
"Oh no! There's an incident—Armstrong!" Rob Smedley's voice shot up, urgent and animated. "He couldn't keep his speed under control on entry to Rascasse! The brakes locked, he lost it completely, and the car slammed straight into the barrier!"
After a brief pause, his tone turned grave. "This will very likely trigger a VSC. The field won't be bunched up, so Alex Sun's 3.5-second lead should hold—but the cleanup operation will affect his line choices."
Track marshals reacted immediately, pushing recovery vehicles and hauling toolkits as they rushed to the scene to begin clearing the wreckage. Time was critical—under Virtual Safety Car conditions, the cars were still circulating, and the operation carried real risk.
Alex Jacques followed up quickly, speaking at a rapid clip.
"Virtual Safety Car deployed! All cars must adhere to reference speed. Cleanup expected to take two laps. The VSC won't compress the field, so Alex Sun's advantage remains intact. The suspense isn't amplified, but navigating the cleanup zone will be a small challenge for him."
Alex Sun glanced at the speed limit and delta display on his dashboard as Mark's steady voice came through the TR.
"Maintain VSC pace. Your lead is secure. Just hold speed and steer clear of the cleanup area."
Alex Sun's fingers tightened slightly as he stabilized the car, his eyes scanning the section of track ahead. A knowing curve touched the corner of his mouth.
Armstrong's crash looked dramatic, but in the end it was nothing more than a routine mistake in line choice. A quick glance in the mirror showed perfectly spaced gaps between the cars. With the VSC limiting speeds across the field, this wasn't a moment where further incidents were likely.
"Copy," Alex Sun replied crisply. The brief tension in his hands vanished just as quickly, his grip on the steering wheel steady and unshakable.
...
(20 Chapters Ahead)
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