CHAPTER 583: UNCANNY EVENTS

After two races off the podium and one ending in a discouraging DNF, Luca Rennick was finally back on the steps.

A P3 finish for him after 50 laps of the Italian Grand Prix.

[3RD POSITION]

[Congratulations, host. You made a podium.]

In the middle of the race, he had only two foreseeable outcomes: another disastrous DNF or a disqualification from fuel shortage, or a finish buried deep in the midfield if he had taken a lengthy pit stop.

But instead, Luca forged a third sequence for himself. Eighteen points for third place had never looked so glorious, nor felt so completely earned.

But it came at a small price, though.

By the final lap to the chequered flag, Trampos engineers had already taken note of a concerning rise in the cockpit temperature.

This couldn’t be ignored, and the team could only hope Luca would make it to the line before anything gave way.

Below-line fuel often causes spiking overheating, an indirect result of ineffective cooling and the engine running leaner than safe margins.

When several degrees above the standard, the cockpit was airless and unbearable for any driver, even Luca, whom some thought had superpowers.

When he crossed the finish line behind Damgaard and Dreyer, the Trampos crew were already rushing on the pit lane, waving their cooling equipment in urgency.

By the time he opened his cockpit lid, Luca was a barbecue, and his head was spinning.

The barbaric afternoon air of the circuit exposed him as his boots touched the asphalt in concerning stumbles.

The race had proclaimed its victors, and more drivers were crossing the line, so in the cooldown zone, Luca had looked like a madman.

The best guess was that he had experienced some heatstroke, but he managed to unzip his race suit and remove his helmet and sock.

When the crew reached him, they were armed with cold blankets and air guns.

The tools helped them flush icy air into his race suit, across his skin, before wrapping him in a cocoon.

After ensuring his safety, the Z24 was attended to because its temperature threatened a flame-up.

Luca’s mastery of fuel management was widely acknowledged and praised across the paddock.

Few could balance aggression and conservation as precisely as he did that afternoon.

It became the talk of the community.

Some even wondered if Luca was deliberately pulling off iconic things just to stamp his name into every post-race discussion.

It didn’t take long before nicknames began to be formed too.

He stole the show from the actual race winner, Jimmy Damgaard, whose stunning last-sector overtake on Luis Dreyer should’ve been the week’s headline!

Dreyer finished in P2, still holding his head high after a spectacular race, but of course, he had wanted the middle step of the podium.

P1 had also been Luca’s dream, but not simply as the common ambition of every racer.

He had actually dreamt vividly of winning the Italian Grand Prix, standing tall before the opposing crowd.

The entire story and dynamic of him rubbing his win in the face of the country felt too graphic for him not to believe it wouldn’t be reality.

But now it was Jimmy Damgaard of Velocità who had claimed victory, and Autodromo was a thunderous sea of pride and nationalism for Bueseno Velocità’s second Grand Prix victory.

~~~~~

The second night after the race, Luca had a dream similar to the one where he’d imagined himself winning the Italian Grand Prix.

This one, however, felt domestic, tranquil, and oddly mature, as though he was glimpsing into a future where he was slightly older, and more grounded than the man he was now.

It unfolded like one of those scenes from movies where a woman and a child stood in the glow of sunrise over a vast, empty field.

Of course, Luca couldn’t quite see the woman’s face, only the way her hair shimmered golden under the morning light and the brief glimpse of her nose whenever she playfully turned toward him.

He cherished the dream’s calmness and was content just watching the mother and child walk into the horizon rather than chasing after them to identify who they were.

But just when he finally decided to move closer, he woke up and went about his simple morning routine: water, brush teeth, banana.

Luca had vague interpretations of the dream.

The first that came to him was that it might’ve been him and his mother, because the woman’s height matched Mrs. Rennick’s, and her hair flowed with the same gentle length and grace she once had.

But the other felt like it was Laura and Ansel’s son, Martin. This was actually more believable.

Luca hoped the dream would return, but he couldn’t force it, and in the following nights came only other, less meaningful ones.

~~~~~

The day he left Monza, Mallow gave Luca the kind of grave news he never wanted to hear, and he was even more stunned that he first heard it from Mallow before from the news.

Mallow narrated that three people had been killed near Via Gattamelata, not far from the Monza city square, after what was described as a violent fan clash.

Apparently, the three victims were part of a group of Trampos fans who had painted a large mural of Luca on the side of an old brick building.

They were caught by a rival crowd, and what began as shouting and shoving quickly descended into a bottle-swinging brawl that left three dead before the authorities arrived.

When Mallow began describing the nature of the injuries and causes of death, Luca cut him off, telling him to stop.

He wasn’t a doctor, and he didn’t want to hear that part.

In fact, the entire story turned Luca’s stomach, leaving him restless for days and spoiling his week completely.

Trampos’ designated facility had been placed under heightened security for the tenth round, and Luca believed that with such measures, everything would stay under control.

Never had he imagined that the rivalry of sport could spill so darkly into the streets.

He wondered helplessly; what if children were involved? What if someone had drawn a gun in the chaos, how many more lives could have been lost in an instant?

Luca returned to Germany deeply unhappy.

The next race was the Hungarian Grand Prix, and he could only hope it would be neutral ground, a calmer stage to ease the tension.

At that moment, statements flooded the media from government officials, the FIA, and team representatives, all firmly condemning the violence and calling for the restoration of respect and peace within the sport.

It was deeply ironic how such a tragedy unfolded right after the Race Nation dinner, where everyone had gathered together preaching unity and mutual respect.

Perhaps Formula 1 had grown too passionate, beyond what the FIA had envisioned.

Its intensity no longer confined to the circuits but seeping uncontrollably into society.

If this frenzy kept escalating, measures would have to be taken.

Either the sport would restrain itself or risk being banned by countries that might soon deem it an "unhealthy" obsession rather than the noble competition it once was.

Perhaps, it was never once noble.

~~~~~

Because of that dream, Luca remembered Laura and Martin, and so he decided to visit them before preparations for the next race began.

In the unhappiness of what had happened in Monza, the small family managed to put a smile on his face, softening his mood again.

Laura was glad about this, as being a source of happiness to him was very crucial.

But Luca didn’t stay long with them. He had come to see things with his own eyes and be sure that everything was moving well.

Laura showed him the nursery admission card for Martin’s upcoming enrolment, and Luca approved of the choice with genuine delight.

About him and Martin, the boy recognized Luca easily even after only two prior encounters, if counted correctly.

At the sight of Luca, his eyes brightened, his small hand reached out.

It was very easy for him to be transferred to Luca’s arms, and that was where he stayed, content and cheerful, until Luca’s exit.

Laura had thought Luca would eventually ask for a quiet moment to question why she had called him eleven times.

But he didn’t. There was no trace of inquiry throughout his stay, nor was any of his attention fully on her.

When Luca had seen those missed calls, he phoned Ester and Simon, asking them to check in on Laura and find out if something was wrong.

They promised they would, and that if it were anything serious, they’d let him know right away.

Since no follow-up came, Luca assumed the matter had been resolved, that perhaps it had been nothing urgent after all.

Laura, however, took it as an ignore.

But she didn’t complain at all.

That had been a petty way to seek his attention, she admitted.

As she gently took Martin from Luca’s arms on his way out, she searched for another.