Dominik Corvinus took a deep breath, sat in the professional racing seat, gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands, and fixed his gaze on the oversized, high-refresh-rate monitor in front of him.
On the screen, the game interface of "F1 2021" had finished loading, presenting the familiar yet technologically advanced F1 cockpit. Data flickered on the dashboard, as if urging Dominik to immediately hit the track.
Just then, a burst of static came through the headphones, followed by O'Connor's voice: "Dominik, the track chosen for you is the Jeddah Circuit. The cars are the Williams FW43B and the Mercedes W12, each for five laps."
Dominik frowned slightly. He had expected to choose freely, but he realized his selection was being controlled externally. However, years of navigating the Formula paddock allowed him to quickly adjust. He was confident he could handle any challenge.
At the source of the URL, Williams Team Principal Jost Capito sat in a leather chair, leaning slightly forward. His deep gaze was fixed on Dominik on the screen, his eyes revealing a hint of anticipation mixed with nervousness. The Williams FW43B's performance in the real season had been disappointing. He urgently hoped that Dominik could achieve a result that provided a data reference for future races—and perhaps even prove he could be the one to save this struggling team in the coming years.
Unlike Capito, Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff leaned back in his chair, gently stroking his chin with a confident smile. He believed Dominik would shine brightly in the Silver Arrow.
Otmar Szafnauer, soon to be the Aston Martin Team Principal, stood to the side with his arms crossed. His expression was complex, both curious about the pace and secretly calculating future personnel arrangements, hoping to gain inspiration from this session.
Dominik's agent, O'Connor, stood in the corner, his brows tightly furrowed. He was worried about Dominik's condition and knew that the outcome of this race would affect future commercial deals and seat collaborations. If Dominik underperformed, the loss would be more than just honor; it could mean the end of F1 contract negotiations.
As the engine roared to life, Dominik slowly drove the Williams FW43B towards the starting line of the Jeddah Circuit. A thrilling virtual spectacle was about to begin.
The roar of the engine exploded in his ears, and Dominik's fingertips instantly tightened. The Jeddah Circuit's distinctive asphalt flew across the screen. This 6.175-kilometer high-speed street circuit, with an average speed exceeding 250 km/h, held danger in every turn—a slight misstep could send him crashing into the concrete barriers.
The car sped past the end of the main straight at 330 km/h, and Dominik slammed on the brake pedal at the very last half-second. The Williams nearly locked its front wheels. The nose wing grazed the kerb as he cut into Turn 1, the car's rear end swinging out in an elegant arc at the very edge of its grip.
Thousands of kilometers away in Europe, Capito suddenly leaned forward. The car's understeer defect, which plagued their current drivers, was being managed by Dominik at a speed no one else had achieved in the simulator.
Entering the continuous S-curves, Dominik's wrists rapidly flicked, his right foot precisely blipping the throttle to maintain RPM. Toto Wolff watched with admiration. In Dominik's hands, the Mercedes W12 was 0.3 seconds faster on the same section, but his performance in the inferior Williams was even more impressive.
Dominik was breaking into a cold sweat. He knew this was his audition for the F1 paddock. On lap 4, passing through the high-speed sections, he noticed the brake temperature light had turned red. He risked downshifting early, using engine braking to alleviate the pressure.
Coming to Turn 13, a high-speed right-hander, Dominik took a deep breath. At 50 meters before the braking point, he decisively downshifted, his left foot pressing the brake with millimeter precision. The car's weight shifted forward, and the nose pointed steadily into the turn.
In the complex Turns 14 and 15, Dominik adjusted his breathing. The moment he cleared Turn 13, he lightly blipped the throttle to shift the weight to the rear, then rapidly turned the wheel to cut into Turn 14. As the nose aligned with the exit, he went full throttle, dived into Turn 15, and maintained a line that flowed like water.
Otmar leaned closer to the screen. He noticed Dominik adopted an unconventional line through Turn 16—the car's nose almost grazed the concrete wall, an aggressive maneuver few would dare in reality.
Entering Turn 18, a tight corner, Dominik chose a late braking line, almost scraping the inner wall. The car leaned as it carved through the apex, and at the exit, he floored the accelerator, shooting out like an arrow towards the next straight.
When Dominik crossed the finish line after driving both cars, Toto Wolff's smile froze. Although the Mercedes was superior, the lap time Dominik achieved with the Williams was only 0.8 seconds slower than the Silver Arrow.
O'Connor quietly breathed a sigh of relief and began drafting a press release. Capito's eyes gleamed as he rapidly jotted down data.
After thanking the three principals and O'Connor, Dominik hung up and left the room. On the track, virtual champagne splattered in the sunset, unaware that the aftershocks of this data battle were quietly brewing in the real world.