Quietly, Borreipaire watched Kai, whose teeth were still chattering from the ice bath. In just a few words, delivered casually, the young driver had revealed a blend of maturity and wisdom that was both impressive and intriguing. He had the confidence and swagger of a seventeen-year-old, but also a calmness that belied his age.
Even Borreipaire, who was usually calm to the point of being rigid, felt his blood stir. A flicker of anticipation for tomorrow's race ignited within him.
What other surprises does this kid have in store?
It wasn't just about tomorrow. It was about the whole season. From this one small detail, Borreipaire could see the bigger picture. No one understood better than him what this race meant.
Ambition swelled in his chest. For once, Borreipaire was ready to get sentimental.
And then...
Gurgle. Gurgle.
Before Kai could respond, his stomach let out a long, mournful wail. The intense physical exertion of the race had finally triggered a protest from his body.
In an instant, the "heroic" atmosphere vanished, replaced by an awkward silence.
Borreipaire paused. He didn't say another word. He silently turned and walked away... and Kai could have sworn he was pinching his nose.
Kai: ???
Kai's eyes went wide. "Pierre! I know what you're thinking, but it's not that! It's just my stomach!"
Borreipaire didn't stop. He just raised his right hand in a dismissive wave. From the back, Kai could see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Kai looked up at the ceiling in despair, pinching his own nose. He took a deep breath and sank under the water. He needed a moment of peace.
The GP3 Sprint Race rules were slightly different.
The Feature Race was 22 laps. The Sprint Race was 17. Although the difference wasn't huge, the rhythm was tighter, and the strategy changed.
Crucially, the top eight finishers from the Feature Race were reversed on the grid for the Sprint Race. The order was completely scrambled, making the challenge of attacking and defending even more severe.
Especially at a track like Barcelona, where overtaking was already limited, the Sprint Race was a completely different beast from the Feature Race.
F2, European F3, GP3—they all had similar rules. The core idea was the same: the organizers wanted to use the "reverse grid + sprint" format to create chaos and excitement, forcing the drivers to truly race.
Considering the reverse grid and the shorter race distance, the window for strategy and overtaking was compressed. Winning both the Feature Race and the Sprint Race in the same weekend was considered an almost impossible task.
In 2014, during the European F3 season (which had three races per weekend), Max Verstappen had swept all three races at both Spa and the Norisring—six consecutive victories. It was that explosive performance that caught Red Bull's eye and led to his unprecedented promotion.
In 2015, Verstappen jumped straight from F3 to F1 with Toro Rosso.
It was precisely because it was "impossible" that Verstappen's achievement was so legendary.
In fact, the number of drivers who had managed to pull off a "weekend sweep" could be counted on one hand:
2012, GP3, Hungary: Antonio Félix da Costa swept the Feature and Sprint races, becoming the first double winner in a weekend.2014, European F3, Moscow: Esteban Ocon.2014, GP2, Bahrain: Davide Valsecchi.2016, GP2, Baku: Antonio Giovinazzi.
That was it.
Add in Verstappen, and you have a grand total of five drivers. It required skill, talent, and more than a little luck.
Truly, a rare feat.
Borreipaire knew this. Kai had dominated today, but tomorrow was a different animal. The strategy and expectations needed to be adjusted. But now, Borreipaire's mindset had quietly shifted. A seed of hope was beginning to sprout.
Maybe—just maybe—they could hope for more.
It wasn't just because of one race win. A win wasn't surprising; Borreipaire had confidence in the ART car this year. Aitken, Russell, and Hubert's pace had proven the car was capable of winning.
The real key was Kai himself. From his "grand entrance" to qualifying, to the race, his work ethic and limitless potential had been evident. And his mental adjustment after the victory was even more impressive. Compared to Aitken and Russell, who had both lost their composure, the contrast was stark.
That aura was the key. It was a seed of hope, quietly planted.
Of course, Borreipaire wouldn't rush it. He wouldn't start shouting about championships after just one step. He would keep these thoughts buried deep, hoping that one day, that small seed would grow into a mighty tree.
Without even realizing it, Borreipaire's steps were lighter as he returned to the pit lane.
Finally! Kai finished his ice bath. He rubbed his starving stomach. It felt like it was glued to his spine. He had never imagined a race would burn so much energy.
After the race, dehydrated and exhausted, with the adrenaline fading, he felt hollowed out, like a zombie. Everything he looked at, he imagined how it would taste. His blood sugar was low, and his fingers were trembling slightly.
Lack of experience, indeed.
Kai grabbed his water bottle, gulping down fluids, and dragged his feet back to the pit garage, scanning the room for anything edible.
At the same time, he pulled out his phone. It was the first chance he'd had to check his messages.
First career race, first podium, first win. It was all a whirlwind of chaos. He had completely forgotten about his phone as the world spun around him. Now, the abandoned device finally came into view.
Lorenzo. Leclerc. Zhou Guanyu. Monfardini. Rosana.
Familiar names filled his screen, all sending immediate congratulations. Zhou was especially enthusiastic, cheerfully demanding that Kai treat him to dinner.
Surprisingly, Armstrong had also sent a message. Kai and he had joined the Ferrari academy around the same time, making them direct rivals. Their relationship had always been distant, neither close nor hostile. This was the first time Armstrong had reached out.
After a moment's thought, Kai replied.
And then, he saw the message from Lu Cheng.
It was the first one sent, so it was buried at the bottom of the pile, a hidden treasure waiting to be found.
Kai was surprised. GP3 broadcasts were incredibly rare; you couldn't watch them back home. Plus, with the time difference, the race had started in the middle of the night in China. He had assumed his father would find out from the news the next morning.
He never expected that Lu Cheng had not only watched the race, but had messaged him instantly.
"!!!!!!"
The message started with a string of exclamation points. Kai didn't need words to picture the look on his father's face.
"Congratulations! Congrats, congrats, congrats! Kai! You did it! A beautiful race, a perfect race..."
It was a long, rambling essay, written in just a few minutes. Between the lines, Kai could feel his father's excitement radiating off the screen.
The dream that had been quietly buried in his youth was sprouting again, silent and unnoticed. Maybe this time, everything would be different.
~~----------------------
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