At 7:30 AM, Dominik had already finished his shower and was staring at the hotel breakfast tray.
Ugh... I'm not coming back here next time, he thought, poking a rubbery scrambled egg. O'Connor, you liar. You said 'luxury accommodation'. I miss the full English Russell's chef made last week.
As the black Genesis van sped along the winding mountain roads towards Inje, Dominik watched the scenery blur past. In the distance, the grandstands of the Inje Speedium rose against the mountains.
This was his first variety show appearance. For a guy who was used to racing at 300 kph with millions watching, he felt a strange flutter of nervousness. Variety shows were unpredictable.
At 9:00 AM, the track was bathed in golden sunlight. Dominik stood in the pit lane, looking at the two Porsche 911 GT3s prepared by the production team.
As expected of a big budget show, Dominik thought. Proper machinery.
"Mr. Corvinus," the assistant director said, bowing. "Please familiarize yourself with the track this morning. If you need any adjustments, tell the mechanics."
Dominik nodded silently. In front of strangers, he maintained his "Ice Prince" persona—aloof, professional, composed.
He climbed into the GT3. The roar of the flat-six engine echoed off the pit walls as he pulled out.
Inje Speedium was technical—blind crests, elevation changes, and a tricky triple-hairpin section that required precise weight transfer. After two sighting laps to warm the fluids, Dominik began to push.
He carved through the first sector, the tires screeching in protest as he flirted with the limit.
In the control room, the assistant director stared at the monitors. "This is insane! His third lap is already a second faster than our pro test driver's best!"
The track consultant shook his head in disbelief. "F1 drivers... their spatial awareness is not human."
Once Dominik felt comfortable, he pitted for fresh rubber. He went out again, this time in full attack mode.
He crossed the line. 1:46.27.
Three seconds faster than the track's amateur record.
The pit lane erupted in cheers. The cameraman forgot to pan, just staring at the car as it flew past.
During the lunch break, while Dominik ate (a much better meal provided by the track), the crew swapped the tires for fresh Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2s.
At 3:00 PM, a colorful bus arrived. The cast of Running Man poured out.
Kim Jong-kook jumped out first, flexing his biceps. "I heard there's a mystery driver today! If he's faster than me, I'll smash a boulder with my chest!"
Haha pushed him. "Hyung, you crashed a go-kart last time. Don't embarrass us!"
In the crowd, Hwang Yeji stood out with her pink-streaked hair, holding a mission card and looking around nervously.
Dominik was already in the car, wearing a full-face helmet with a dark visor. He watched them through the tinted glass.
"Prepare to start," the PD said in his earpiece. "Don't reveal your identity yet."
Dominik fired up the engine. The cast jumped at the sudden roar. He rolled the GT3 slowly toward them like a shark approaching bait.
Yoo Jae-suk pointed. "Wait! What if we throw up? Does the show cover dry cleaning?"
Dominik chuckled inside his helmet. This is going to be fun.
The game began. The Water Cup Challenge.
First up was Yoo Jae-suk. Dominik accelerated hard on the straights, braking late to make the water slosh violently. The MC screamed the entire lap, soaking his shirt.
Next was Ha Dong-hoon (Haha). Dominik threw the car sideways in the hairpins, drifting through the corners. Haha's face was pressed against the glass in terror, much to the delight of the other members.
Then, it was Hwang Yeji's turn.
She approached the car tentatively and climbed into the passenger seat. She bowed slightly to the "mystery driver."
"Um... could you please go a little slower?" she asked, her voice small and polite.
Dominik glanced at her through his visor. He remembered her from the gym that morning—the scared girl who thought he was stalking her.
Slower? Dominik smirked behind his helmet. Not today, Yeji.
He mashed the throttle.
The GT3 launched. Yeji's scream was instantaneous, a high-pitched shriek that was drowned out by the engine.
Dominik drove harder than before. He attacked the curbs, the suspension thumping, the car dancing on the edge of adhesion. In the corners, he brought the bumper millimeters from the guardrail.
Yeji had her eyes squeezed shut, her face pale, desperately clutching the plastic cup with both hands as if it contained the elixir of life.
He crossed the line and drifted into the parking box.
Yeji stumbled out of the car, looking dazed. She checked the cup—it was almost empty.
"Am I still alive?" she shouted, checking her arms and legs. The cast roared with laughter.
As dusk fell, the driving segment ended. The cast gathered around.
Dominik stepped out of the car. He unbuckled his helmet and pulled it off, shaking out his hair. He wasn't even sweating.
A collective gasp went through the cast.
Jeon So-min covered her mouth. "Oh my god! He's handsome!"
Yang Se-chan grabbed his head. "Wait! That's the F1 driver! The one from the news!"
Yoo Jae-suk rushed forward to shake his hand. "Dominik-ssi! Welcome! You tried to kill me, but welcome!"
Hwang Yeji stood at the back, frozen. Her eyes went wide.
The gym guy.
The Ferrari guy.
The F1 driver.
She covered her face with her hands. I told an F1 driver to stop stalking me. I am going to die of embarrassment.
Dominik caught her eye. He smiled—a small, knowing smirk. Yeji quickly looked down, her ears turning red.
The PD announced the next segment: The Name Tag Ripping Game.
Kim Jong-kook cracked his knuckles, staring at Dominik. "Finally. Someone worthy."
Dominik accepted his name tag, sticking it to his back. He looked at the cast, laughing and joking in the sunset.
This is different from the paddock, he thought. Less politics, more chaos.
He liked it.
He followed the production team onto the bus. The hunt was about to begin.