My Formula 1 System

Upon entering the building, an aged man greeted them as if he had been waiting for their arrival. Mallow immediately introduced Luca to him, saying he was the Chief Instructor of the Grey-Husson Academy program every year. "Mr. Schafer? This is Luca Rennick. Luca?

Meet the Chief Instructor and Director, Mr. Schafer," Mallow said.

Mr. Schafer, aged but tall, with white hair and a mustache beneath his round glasses, inspected Luca before accepting the handshake Luca offered him. "Oh, I do hope you turn out to be like a Rennick I can remember," he muttered, his voice strained, a testament to his age. "Welcome, boy. And how old are you?"

"I'm eighteen," Luca replied, adding, "turned that five months ago," before breaking the firm handshake, hoping the man didn't feel the dampness of his palm.

"Welcome, welcome," Schafer said, glancing at Mallow. "I don't see him participating in anything today. He'll have to pass medical tests, you know that. Tomorrow, he'll begin and merge with the others right away."

Luca listened closely while his gaze wandered around the magnificent facility. He envisioned a crowd of people in the empty stands far away, cheering for their team as the racers zoomed through the track like sparks of electricity.

"...good thing we made it today. Elimination begins tomorrow, and he wouldn't have been accepted if that had begun, am I right?" Mallow's question drew Luca's attention back from his racing daydream.

"Elimination?" Luca asked. "We get sent home at intervals? Some kind of tournament?"

"Certainly, Luca," Mr. Schafer replied. "Starting from Day 4 tomorrow, we gradually shift out participants through increasingly intense challenges to mirror the real challenges one faces as an F1 racer. At the end of this course, we select the top seven."

Wow. Luca had never been in a competitive atmosphere before, and he wondered just how intense and challenging this might be.

"Please, might we get Mr. Mallow and his client here settled? Then, direct him to the clinic before the day's over," Mr. Schafer called out to a staff member, motioning Luca forward after welcoming him once more.

Mallow grinned at Luca, giving him a thumbs up. "You'll see Harry. In fact, you'll be sharing a room with him. Get along as quick as you can. I'll see you soon—gonna have a talk with the gaffer here," he said with a wave.

Alright, Luca told himself as he followed the staff member, who wore a cotton T-shirt with the signature G emblazoned on the back. He led Luca further into the building, the neat halls echoing slightly with each step as they passed by a few other staff members, similarly dressed in pink T-shirts.

As they passed the training hub, Luca could hear the chatter of youthful voices, and he peered into the room. The other participants, I guess.

Luca saw a group of boys, likely around his age or slightly older, sitting on benches with towels draped over their shoulders as they sipped water and chatted joyfully. They were in racing suits, making Luca believe they had just finished a training session.

He felt a subtle sense of relief knowing the participants were boys around his age, which made him hope they'd get along, even as competitors. Realizing the staff member was outpacing him, he quickened his steps to catch up as they began ascending a series of stairs.

[Ding!]

[Daily Quest has been issued!]

[-·-THIRTY PULL-UPS-·-]

[DURATION: COMPLETE BEFORE 9PM]

[This will help improve your upper body strength, grip endurance, and back muscles—all essential for handling the steering wheel effectively.]

[Reward for Completing Monday Daily Quest: (EXP)

- Strength +1

- Endurance +1 ]

[Consequence for Failing Monday Daily Quest: (EXP)

- Endurance -1

Consequence for Failing Monday Daily Quest: Punishment

-Persistent and intense headaches that impair focus and productivity will occur.]

Luca's full attention was fixed on the digital interface before him, intently focused on the latest quest issued by his System. He absorbed each line of instruction, contemplating how he'd tackle the challenge, when he suddenly collided with someone, jolting him out of his thoughts and making him step back in surprise.

"Sorry," Luca muttered, his gaze snapping to the person he had bumped into. His eyes met the other's, and he was hit with an unsettling wave of recognition. His expression darkened immediately, frowning as he realized who he was face-to-face with.

"Luca?!" the boy exclaimed, practically booming in disbelief, drawing out Luca's name as if it were a foreign word he could barely comprehend. He scanned Luca from head to toe with a scrutinizing gaze, as if questioning whether it was truly the same lowlife he knew. "What in the world are you doing here?!"

Luca grimaced. He despised this guy—Miles. The very same Miles he had crossed paths with just days ago in his flashy convertible back in London. Their rivalry ran deep, rooted in high school days filled with tension and rivalry. Miles had been Luca's number-one adversary back then, and by the look of things, absolutely nothing had changed.

Miles embodied everything Luca detested in a person: arrogant, entitled, and perpetually on the lookout for opportunities to belittle others. During their high school years, Miles had made Luca's life a living hell, constantly flaunting his wealth, privilege, and influence. Now, as they stood in this prestigious F1 training facility, Luca realized that the past was far from behind them.

Luca's gaze shifted to the person standing beside Miles—a girl with a familiar face, her hand resting possessively on Miles' arm, casually gripping his well-built muscles like he was some prize. The sight caught Luca off guard, momentarily freezing him as he registered her identity. Is my life seriously coming back to haunt me?

he wondered, trying to push back the memories of high school that had resurfaced with alarming clarity.

"I applied for the academy," Luca said firmly, meeting Miles' condescending stare without flinching. He'd never been afraid of Miles—in fact, Luca looked down on him, seeing his arrogance as something beneath contempt, the mark of a man who should strive to be better.

"You? In Grey-Husson's? Legally?" Miles sneered, letting out a laugh as he shot a quick glance at the girl beside him. "Look at this clown. You actually think you can be a racer?"

"Is that news to you?" Luca shot back, his voice steady and unwavering. "I thought you already knew and made fun of it?"

Miles shook his head, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Man, you're pathetic. You've probably never even driven a basic sedan, and here you are, thinking you can handle a single-seater? Please," he sneered with open disdain. "You'll just be another one of my NPCs, getting lost in the pack, only to find your way back to The Smoke."

Luca's hand twitched into a fist, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. Miles' arrogance was nothing new to him. He'd faced this kind of mockery many times before, and he wasn't about to let it drag him down. "And you? You're aiming for this too?" Luca asked, making sure not to let his gaze linger on the girl beside Miles.

"You're damn right I am," Miles replied boastfully.

"I thought you're in college? Did you.... drop out?"

Miles' face flushed red, his teeth grinding as he visibly struggled to keep his irritation in check. "The course is just two weeks. It's a small price to pay for a shot at Formula 1 professionalism. Most of us know it's worth the sacrifice—fourteen days, no big deal. That's smart, isn't it?"

Luca kept his expression calm, though inwardly he savored the moment. "It is smart," he replied coolly, his gaze steady as he pushed past Miles to catch up with the staff member, who hadn't bothered to wait for him. "That's if you make it through the first elimination, you've wasted schooldays then."

"You little—!"

Before Miles could finish his insult, Luca quickened his pace, jogging up the stairs and rounding a corner. His heart raced, but not from fear or intimidation—he felt a pulse of satisfaction. For the first time in a long while, he had a real chance to prove himself, and he intended to beat Miles at something that actually mattered.

By the time Luca caught up to the staff member, they were standing in front of the clinic's doors. "Thanks," Luca said with genuine appreciation, catching his breath.

Inside the clinic, he underwent a series of tests—nutrition and hydration levels, both of which were fine, blood and body composition analysis, and a few cognitive assessments. When it was all over, he felt relieved as the doctor deemed him "fit as a fiddle," although he advised Luca to take it easy on his injured side, which hadn't fully healed yet.

Surprisingly, the staff member waited for him outside the clinic and led him to his quarters, stopping at a door labeled "Stadhaven." Luca knocked, and moments later, the door opened to reveal a youthful face with dark hair and brown skin.

"Good afternoon," the guy greeted, his eyes landing on Luca. "Is this him?" he asked the staff member, who nodded before excusing himself. "Welcome, bro," he said, stepping aside to let Luca in.

"Thanks," Luca replied, stepping into the room and taking in the space. There were two frameless beds for the both of them, two wide windows side by side, and gray walls that caused their voices to resonate whenever they spoke. "I'm Luca. What about you?"

"Harry, Harry Potter," the boy replied, with a hint of a grin as he slumped back onto his bed, crossing his arms behind his head.

Luca threw his bag to the floor, the thud echoing as he turned to face Harry. "Are you... like serious?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course! Why would I lie to my new roommate? The name's Harry Potter, the magic man," Harry proclaimed with a chuckle. "Nah, just kidding. I'm ain't that white—the last name's Patel. But people always mess it up and call me Potter."

Luca burst out laughing. "Oh, I get it. I probably would too," he replied. "Might be a good nickname, don't you think?"

"Heaven knows it is!" Harry boomed, spreading his arms in the air. "And there we have the magic man, Harry Potter, speeding down the track! With the crowd roaring, he takes the final corner with precision, leaving everyone in the dust. It's like he's flying on a broomstick out there! No one can catch him—Potter weaves through the competition like magic itself!

And boom, across the finish line, the unbeatable Harry Potter takes the victory!"

Luca's laughter spilled over, his stomach clenching as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"So, what's gonna be your nickname, Lu–ca?" Harry asked, collapsing back onto his bed, still grinning.

Luca shrugged as he sat down on his bed to remove his boots, his bottom sinking into the soft mattress. "I'm sure the fans will make out one for me when the time comes. That's the tradition," he said with a sigh of relief, freeing his feet from the confines of his boots.

"Yeah, true," Harry replied. "Anyway, welcome, man. I was thinking I wouldn't get a mate from Stadhaven, London. Why'd they bring you in so late?"

Luca shrugged, having no definite answer to that. He began unpacking, arranging his belongings on the small stool beside his bed, trying to settle in.

"You've officially missed three days now, and tomorrow, we'll be handling the cars without precautions. Sure you can handle a single-seater?" Harry asked, eyeing him skeptically.

Luca shook his head, a bit sheepishly. "Honestly? No. I haven't even driven a car in my life," he admitted.

"You're telling me you've never been behind a wheel your whole life?!" Harry looked utterly astonished.

Luca bit his lip, knowing how absurd it sounded, especially for someone aspiring to become an F1 racer. "Maybe go-karts when I was a kid, and, you know, video games..."

"That doesn't count!" Harry groaned, placing his hands on his head in disbelief. "Bro, you're gonna be wiped clean tomorrow."

Not if my System has anything to say about that, Luca thought with a quiet, determined sneer. He knew the task ahead was daunting, but his System was there to guide him. The idea of facing real competition and driving for the first time in a single-seater made him uneasy, though he did his best to keep a straight face.

Remembering he had a Daily Quest to attempt and complete, Luca grabbed the timetable Harry had provided. He scanned it, matching it against the routine his System had suggested. The Grey-Husson schedule was streamlined and clear, with just a minor clash with his System's prescribed routine.

He glanced at the wall clock. It was 4:00 p.m., and the day was winding down. Standing by the window, he took in the view of the sprawling track and the silent grandstands. Below, engineers and mechanics moved about, still at work on the cars, likely the same ones the participants had used earlier. The sight stirred something in him—a sense of anticipation mixed with nerves.

Searching for a bar for his pull-ups, Luca found one beneath a corner, potentially for hanging clothes.

[Host is attempting Monday's Daily Quest]

[ANALYSING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]

[DATA COLLECTED]

[DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:

- Speed: 0 km/h (static exercise)

- Heart Rate: 125 bpm

- Stamina: 90% (High)

- Breathing: Slightly Elevated

- Repetitions: 12 reps

- Time: 27 sec ]

The process felt effortless when compared to his last Daily Quests, as he breezed through each repetition with ease, Harry watching him closely.

Thirty pull-ups were done in under a minute for Luca as his feet landed on the floor when he was over. He flexed his palms that had been gnawed due to the friction on the bars. What about my Rewards?

[Certainly, host.]

[Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]

[You have been rewarded with (EXP)!

-Strength +1

-Endurance +1 ]