Kai was thinking about his parents, and similarly, his parents were thinking about him.
A Drivers' World Championship trophy. While a dream come true, it simultaneously thrust them into the center of a raging storm. For this family of three, navigating the sudden hurricane of fame and fortune while staying true to themselves was an entirely new, incredibly difficult curriculum. But they were ready for it.
Those two short sentences carried an immense weight, pressing gently against his heart.
A soft smile touched the corners of Kai's mouth. "So, is this the Spider-Man dilemma?"
Lu Cheng blinked. "What?"
"Spider-Man," Kai explained. "You know, the superhero who got bitten by a radioactive spider and shoots webs from his wrists." He mimicked the web-shooting gesture with a sound effect. "He spends all his time saving the world, but he's constantly terrified that his family and friends will become targets for his enemies."
"Ha!" Lu Cheng couldn't hold it back; he burst out laughing. "Are you seriously comparing yourself to a superhero right now? Hahaha."
Kai shrugged lightly. "With great power comes great responsibility. It's the same principle. After the results of this season, everyone expects an even better performance next year. Nobody is going to say, 'Well, his rookie year was so phenomenal, it's totally fine if he underperforms in his sophomore season.'"
Lu Cheng looked at his son. Even though Kai was now a global superstar standing at the absolute pinnacle of his sport, and even though he had already grown taller than his father, Lu Cheng could still trace the lingering, youthful innocence on his face.
"Kai, since your rookie season was so phenomenal, it really is totally fine if you underperform in your sophomore season. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."
The words were plain and ordinary, yet they possessed an unbelievably profound power.
Kai nodded, a smile slowly creeping across his face.
"I know," he said. "But, Dad, I want to keep challenging myself. This isn't my limit, and this isn't my peak. I refuse to hit my absolute peak in my very first season and then spend the rest of my life on a slow decline."
Lu Cheng froze for a second before a laugh broke free. "Ha! Hahahahaha!" He nodded emphatically. "Your mother said you'd react exactly like this."
"So, have you made up your mind? Are you staying with Ferrari?"
Kai spread his hands ambiguously.
Lu Cheng's smile widened. "What, corporate secrets? Can't leak them to the press?"
"To be precise," Kai clarified, "Ferrari currently hasn't given me a compelling reason to stay."
Understanding dawned on Lu Cheng. "Ah. It seems Ferrari needs to step up their game, otherwise they might just lose their Captain."
Despite the teasing tone, Lu Cheng's excellent mood was obvious.
This was the dream he had harbored for years, a dream so wild, so exaggerated, so audacious that he hadn't even dared to entertain it in his sleep. Yet, it had become reality. Not only was his son sitting in a Formula 1 car, but he had conquered the world.
For the past week, Lu Cheng had been waking up with a smile on his face.
Kai could feel that joy—a simple, pure, overflowing happiness. It was clear the fire deep within Lu Cheng's soul was still burning brightly.
"Dad, there's something I want to discuss with you."
It was currently just a vague concept, far from fully formed, but Kai thought his dad might be able to help.
"I want to open a karting track. Right near the Shanghai International Circuit."
Lu Cheng froze. His immediate reaction was—
"That's absurd."
The words blurted out before he could stop them, but he quickly reined himself in, taking a deep breath to recover his logic.
"Kai, I understand what you're getting at, but this isn't a simple undertaking. Your career is just taking off. Why burden yourself with such a massive mission right now?"
Lu Cheng instantly understood Kai's underlying intent.
A karting track wasn't just about driving go-karts for fun, and it certainly wasn't just a business venture to make money. It was meant to be a training base—a youth development academy.
For any competitive sport to truly thrive, it requires two fundamental pillars: a massive grassroots foundation, and a structured youth development system. You cannot elevate an entire sport to the global stage relying solely on one or two isolated superstars. It requires a massive base constantly funneling new talent upward.
The football cultures in South American countries like Brazil and Argentina were prime examples. Only when every kid in every alleyway and street corner was kicking a ball did the sport possess the foundational capital to continually explode with world-class talent.
Historically, motorsport had struggled to gain traction in China for a multitude of reasons.
The situation was complex and deeply entrenched; it couldn't be explained away by one or two simple factors. Overturning the status quo and achieving a true breakthrough required an unimaginable amount of force.
Just like with the 110-meter hurdles, tennis, or the 100-meter sprint, the emergence of a generational talent relying on individual brilliance could trigger a massive wave of popularity across the country. But for that wave to translate into genuine, sustained momentum—to truly leverage that breakthrough—the infrastructure and youth development systems had to follow suit.
However, saying it was easy; doing it was a different story. Even a cursory thought revealed the monumental difficulties involved.
And now, Kai was harboring the exact same ambition.
His Drivers' World Championship trophy had undeniably propelled Formula 1 into the mainstream consciousness. A massive wave of motorsport mania was sweeping across every corner of the country. Fueled by the unparalleled brand power of Ferrari, even complete novices were happily donning the Tifosi mantle and joining the carnival.
The timing was absolutely perfect.
That was exactly why Kai had proposed the karting track.
Similar to the Rafa Nadal Academy in tennis, the goal was to draw more people into the sport. Even if they didn't pursue motorsport professionally, it would at least give them a deeper understanding and genuine appreciation for racing, thereby expanding the sport's influence among the general public.
However, the reality was incredibly complex. More accurately, it would be painstakingly difficult.
Lu Cheng tried to remain objective. "Kai, there aren't a ton of karting tracks domestically, but there are definitely quite a few. You don't necessarily need to jump into that market."
Kai shook his head. "This is different. Not every tennis player is Rafael Nadal. Similarly, a karting track bearing my name will operate differently."
Lu Cheng carefully studied Kai's expression. Seeing the quiet, resolute calm in his son's eyes, Lu Cheng hesitated. He swallowed all his worries and counter-arguments, taking another deep breath. "I can see you've given this some serious thought. Why don't you lay out the entire plan?"
Kai smiled. "No, Dad. Honestly, it's just a raw concept right now. I'm discussing it with you, and I'll also be asking Mom, Nicholas, and others for their professional input. Guanyu Zhou's family also owns their own karting track, so I'll definitely be asking him for advice too."
Realizing the plan was still in its infancy, Lu Cheng's suspended heart settled slightly.
However, he knew his son. If Kai brought it up, it wasn't just idle chatter. Lu Cheng didn't relax completely; he adjusted his posture, signaling he was ready to listen intently.
"The season just ended, so my head is completely jammed with chaotic thoughts. I haven't sorted everything out yet, but my current vision is split into two main pillars."
"The first part focuses on cultivating interest. It would operate like a summer camp, giving everyday people a chance to experience the thrill of racing. And of course, educating them on racing techniques and strategy. That way, when they watch an F1 race, they aren't just blindly staring at a bunch of cars driving in circles."
"This includes kids, but also different age groups. The paddock has evergreens like Alonso; people in their thirties, forties, and fifties can absolutely enjoy racing too. The goal is to show people that motorsport isn't as inaccessible as they think."
In just a few sentences, a grand, sweeping blueprint began to unfold.
No wonder Kai believed he had to be the one to do this. Given the current hype, traffic, and mainstream crossover appeal, he was the only person with the necessary drawing power.
This held true for the general public, and equally true for sponsors.
Building a karting track required massive capital, and maintaining and operating it was physically and financially draining. Even a theoretical discussion highlighted the severe challenges of such a project, especially in a country with a weak motorsport foundation.
Furthermore, this specific track was intended to shoulder a much heavier generational mission.
Relying solely on Kai's resources wouldn't be nearly enough. They needed the financial muscle of major sponsors. Whether it was operating the venue, executing marketing campaigns, hosting tournaments, or organizing special events, everything demanded exorbitant funding. Without continuous, robust sponsor support, the project was impossible.
This was exactly where the immense value of the name "Kai" came into play.
Within the F1 paddock, any sponsorship deal involving Kai had to go through Ferrari. Ferrari rigorously protected its corporate image and brand value, making securing sponsorships a highly complex, restrictive process.
Outside the paddock, constraints still existed, but the landscape was slightly different. Sponsors could easily collaborate on a karting track project, ultimately creating a win-win scenario.
Lu Cheng slowly began to grasp Kai's overarching vision—
With great power comes great responsibility.
The exact same project, placed in Kai's hands, possessed the potential to generate a fundamentally different level of impact.
And that wasn't even the whole picture.
Lu Cheng's curiosity was piqued. "You mentioned two pillars."
Kai nodded. "The first pillar is directed downward: building a grassroots foundation and establishing a knowledgeable fan base. The second pillar is directed upward: elevating a select few to chase the ultimate dream."
"There are several ways we can operate this aspect."
"We can establish scholarships to help talented kids from underprivileged backgrounds continue karting, giving them a chance to see how far they can grow."
"We can host our own domestic tournaments, where the top three finishers win a trial in Europe, or we could lead a team to compete in European karting championships."
"Alternatively, we could flip the script. We could invite the youth development scouts from Ferrari, Mercedes, and Red Bull to come watch our races and let them handpick the raw talent they're interested in."
As he spoke, Kai's enthusiasm grew, his ideas flowing freely.
"Dad, you know about Monza's annual youth program, right? They invite karting drivers between eleven and fourteen to watch the F1 race live at Monza, and then arrange for the F1 drivers to meet with them face-to-face, letting them experience the magic of top-tier racing firsthand."
"We could organize similar summer camps. We could lead groups to Monza or Silverstone. Even if they don't end up becoming professional racing drivers, it would be a mind-blowing, eye-opening experience for those kids. Feeling that energy in person changes everything."
Just as Kai had said, this was currently just the seed of an idea. He hadn't worked out all the logistics. He simply recognized a massive opportunity and wanted to seize it to pry the door wide open.
But he hadn't expected one idea to spark another, his thoughts cascading outward until he couldn't stop, painting a magnificent blueprint in just a few sentences.
Lu Cheng watched him intently.
What started as a tiny spark had rapidly flared into a roaring fire, igniting a surge of emotion in Lu Cheng's own mind.
He felt a deep sense of being moved, mixed with profound nostalgia.
Over the years, Lu Cheng had gradually stopped talking about it. The memories of his reckless, youthful pursuit of a racing dream were carefully locked away. The blood-pumping days had faded into the quiet routine of everyday life, building a grounded, realistic existence. It was only in the dead of night, in the deepest corners of his soul, that he occasionally felt that scorching heat again—a heat so intense it threatened to burn him if he touched it.
Yet, Kai had never forgotten.
Even Lu Cheng had assumed that Kai's childhood memories of karting had gathered dust, never to be thought of again once he grew up.
Until now.
Kai still remembered the burning passion of chasing that dream, and he remembered the crushing helplessness and sorrow of watching it shatter.
Now that he possessed the power, he was determined to light a beacon in that endless dark.
Instinctively, Lu Cheng wanted to stop him. The undertaking was too massive, too difficult, and highly likely to result in a thankless, bruising failure.
But looking at the young man standing before him, Lu Cheng couldn't help but think of the beleaguered state Ferrari had been in. Perhaps Sergio Marchionne was the only person in the entire world who genuinely believed Kai could lead Ferrari out of their endless night and toward the dawn—
And Kai had actually done it.
Perhaps that was exactly what separated Kai from everyone else.
Lu Cheng thought for a moment. "Kai, do you have any idea how... colossal this undertaking is?"
Kai shook his head earnestly. "I have no idea."
Lu Cheng choked on his words.
Kai smiled. "If we never start, we'll never know exactly how colossal it is, and we'll never know how far we can go."
"While we sit here discussing it, our imagination can fill the entire universe. The blueprint we describe with words can be infinitely grand and impossibly vast, far exceeding our wildest dreams. But when we actually put our boots on the ground and start doing the real work, we have to take it one step at a time."
"Honestly, I don't know how much of this conceptual blueprint will actually become reality. But I want to try."
Lu Cheng looked quietly at his son.
A brilliant smile broke across Kai's face. "You have to have dreams, right? What if they actually come true? We don't need to aim too high right away. Let's just start by making a modest hundred million."
"A modest hundred million." Lu Cheng couldn't hold it back; the sheer absurdity of the statement made him laugh out loud.
Kai stood there looking perfectly innocent, casually accepting his father's scrutiny.
Lu Cheng's smile grew wider and brighter. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Alright then. Let's start with a hundred million."
Leaving the roar and chaos of Maranello behind, and temporarily shelving the glory of the championship season, Kai returned to reality, to his daily routine, to this small home. Here, he was simply Kai—a nineteen-year-old young man full of boundless imagination and hope for the future, yet fully aware that he still needed to grind, hustle, and use his own two hands to sculpt the shape of his dreams.
The karting track and youth academy were currently just a concept. The concrete feasibility still needed to be thoroughly evaluated. Lorenzo and Nicholas were already engaged in intense, rapid-fire discussions. This wasn't something that could be achieved overnight.
When Kai heard that Nicholas had dragged Ferrari into the planning phase, he realized the situation was rapidly escalating beyond his initial scope. But the truth was, Ferrari was genuinely interested.
Setting everything else aside, Ferrari had always been desperate to expand its market share in China. The massive Asian market was a mouth-watering prize that every single team coveted. Mercedes, Red Bull, McLaren—they were all aggressively maneuvering. There was a very clear, strategic reason why the FIA valued Kai so highly. Now that Kai had pitched this initiative, Ferrari was the very first to express interest.
Even more interestingly, Mercedes was equally intrigued.
This was business outside the paddock. From a purely commercial standpoint, Mercedes had absolutely no reason to reject such a lucrative opportunity.
While the future prospects of the karting track remained to be seen, Kai had officially purchased his very first piece of real estate in Shanghai.
A villa!
Located in the outer suburbs, it wasn't overly massive—roughly 180 square meters. But it offered an escape from the crushing density and noise of the city center. The detached, single-family design featured two floors above ground, a basement, and a small private courtyard. It guaranteed Kai a private sanctuary where he wouldn't have to worry about being mobbed by fans whenever he returned to Shanghai during the mid-season break or the off-season.
Initially, Kai had intended for his first property purchase to be for his parents. But Jiang Mo and Lu Cheng both adamantly refused. They insisted that Kai needed to settle his own living situation first, and they actually handed him back the uncashed one-million-euro check he had earned from his GP3 championship.
Jiang Mo understood that Kai desperately needed a private sanctuary—much more than they did. Otherwise, he would never be able to find any peace or rest whenever he came home.
And so, it was settled.
Kai was officially a property owner.
Vroom—Vroom-vroom-vroom—
The iconic, throaty roar of a legendary engine echoed through the air, shattering the usual tranquility of Maranello. The sheer acoustic pressure of that speed forced people to involuntarily close their eyes and listen closely, savoring the visceral impact.
Then, out of pure habit, the debates began.
"That's definitely an F40..."
"No, no, no, absolutely not. Are your ears broken? How could that possibly be an F40? The F40 doesn't have that kind of mature, raspy growl. That's a 288 GTO. Trust me, one hundred percent. I'm telling you, I'm right."
"I think it's an F355!"
"Impossible! The F355 engine sounds completely different. Where's the hard resonance? You're miles off!"
"It's a GTO. I'd bet my life it's a GTO!"
"Am I the only one who thinks it sounds like the Enzo series?"
The small cafe was packed with locals, some sitting, some standing, all talking over one another in a heated, endless debate. Every single person adamantly defended their own hypothesis, refusing to concede an inch, acting like hunting dogs that had just heard a gunshot.
But it didn't matter. The proof was in the pudding; they just had to wait and see what rolled into view.
The crowd eagerly spilled out of the cafe, standing by the entrance and craning their necks down the street. Instantly, they spotted that brilliant flash of Ferrari red. The car executed a fluid, buttery-smooth reverse-parking maneuver, sliding into a spot without a single stutter or hesitation. The flawless driving was a visual feast in itself.
The lines, the balance, the sheer performance—everything was absolute perfection. The golden sunlight flowed over the chassis like a babbling brook. It had debuted on the stage of history as a purebred race car, yet it was also street-legal. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was the most legendary, the most mythical, the absolute pinnacle of classic vintage cars in Ferrari's entire history—
The 250 GTO.
Born in 1962, this machine remained the holy grail for collectors worldwide. Only thirty-nine units were ever produced. It was exceptionally rare, a masterpiece that couldn't necessarily be bought even with unlimited wealth.
Currently, the record for the highest publicly auctioned price of any Ferrari was held by a 250 GTO, selling earlier this year through RM Sotheby's for a staggering $48.4 million.
Similarly, the record for the highest private sale of a Ferrari was also held by a 250 GTO. Also this year, David MacNeil, the founder of the high-end automotive floor mat company WeatherTech, purchased one for a reported $70 million.
Without question, this was Ferrari's most valuable collectible sports car. More accurately, it was a hyper-exclusive masterpiece that unlimited money couldn't guarantee you could acquire.
Furthermore, it was crucial to note that the first four units produced in this series featured subtle differences from the subsequent thirty-five.
The first four cars sported smaller, oval-shaped radiator openings, bisected by rectangular driving lights. Initially, brake cooling ducts were installed below the nose, which later evolved into vertical brake cooling slots positioned next to the driving lights on the nose. The side markers were mounted beneath concealed plexiglass headlight covers.
The rear spoiler was bolted onto the tail panel, which also featured cabin exhaust vents. The brake cooling ducts were quickly changed to a circular design, and the side markers were relocated to semi-recessed positions on the side of the fenders. Shortly after these modifications, the overall shape of the rear spoiler remained identical, but it was riveted directly into the bodywork as a single, integrated component.
These design tweaks, implemented after the production of the initial four cars, received universal approval. Consequently, all subsequent vehicles were manufactured following this updated design.
Because of this, even among the legendary, ultra-rare pool of only thirty-nine 250 GTOs, connoisseurs could distinguish between the two design iterations based on these minute details.
Perhaps initially, the design of the latter thirty-five cars was considered superior. But as time marched on, the unique, idiosyncratic design of those first four cars transformed them into the ultimate rarities.
And the 250 GTO parked right in front of them was one of those legendary first four.
Anyone who truly understood cars would go weak in the knees just looking at it.
No wonder! Even the lifelong residents of Maranello hadn't been able to accurately identify the car's true identity from its engine roar alone.
Who could have ever imagined they would witness this mythical machine driving down the street in real life?
But—
Who exactly was driving it?
Who on earth was casually cruising around town in a 250 GTO, one of only four in existence? Were they out of their minds?
Unfortunately, the view from the cafe was partially obstructed. The crowd surged forward, shoving and jostling, craning their necks to get a better look.
Suddenly, three young teenagers burst into view. Brimming with youthful, vibrant energy, they sprinted wildly toward the 250 GTO. Their faces were flushed with pure exhilaration. Even from a distance, you could feel the boiling passion in their chests, fighting to burst free, until they finally couldn't contain it any longer.
"Captain!"
"Captain, Abu Dhabi was absolutely incredible!"
"Champion! Champion ahhhhhh!"
So it was Kai returning to Maranello!
The crowd at the cafe immediately exchanged knowing glances and began shouting warm greetings. "Good morning, Kai!" "Come grab some breakfast!" "Looks like you finally got your driver's license!"
Laughter and joyous cheers filled the air.
Sitting in the driver's seat, Kai patiently fulfilled the teenagers' requests—shaking hands, signing autographs, taking photos, and repeatedly expressing his thanks—before finally opening the door and stepping out.
An even more magical scene unfolded. Despite being parked right next to a 250 GTO so absurdly valuable you couldn't guarantee seeing one even in a museum, the entire focus of the world remained locked entirely on Kai. It was as if the priceless sports car beside him was just a mundane pile of scrap metal.
Kai was still getting used to this atmosphere. Maranello was still Maranello, but the protagonist returning to the base had fundamentally changed.
Previously, Kai had used Frankie Penni to highlight the phenomenon: thousands of Tifosi were now flooding into Maranello every single day to tour the Ferrari headquarters.
Kai's former dormitory had become a holy pilgrimage site. His daily morning jogging route was now a heavily trafficked tourist attraction. Even the small, unassuming pizzeria where Lorenzo and Kai used to grab a slice was constantly packed, with lines stretching out the door.
The legendary tales of how Kai was discovered on the streets of Rome, how he traveled to Maranello for a trial only to reject their initial offer, and how Sergio Marchionne displayed his ruthless executive brilliance by inviting the ART team to participate in an internal test—these stories were now mythologized and whispered in every alleyway and street corner.
Over the past few years, the demographic of the Tifosi had been steadily aging. The younger generation's passion for Ferrari and motorsport had visibly waned, drawn away by countless other entertainment options. But now, the youth had returned. Maranello hadn't felt this bursting, vibrant energy in a very long time.
A brand new generation of fans seemed to have rediscovered the fiery passion of Ferrari.
Consequently, every time Kai arrived in Maranello, he was greeted by massive throngs of fans who had been desperately waiting for him.
Honestly, Kai couldn't comprehend it. Where were they all coming from? How did they always know exactly when he was arriving? Were they just permanently camped out in the parking lot outside the Ferrari base? Or was it pure luck—were they just tourists who happened to stumble upon him?
Despite having no answers to these questions, Kai maintained his polite composure, patiently fulfilling the requests of the fanatical crowd.
Even after he exited the car and began walking toward the Ferrari base, the young fans refused to leave. They trailed him closely, phones raised, sprinting and screaming the entire way.
Faced with this spectacle, Kai didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Returning to Maranello was supposed to feel like coming home, yet he had never witnessed such an intense mob scene here before. He waved his hand, looking helplessly into the camera lenses, and casually tossed out a joke. "I'm not a Hollywood superstar. Look, it's Tom Cruise!"
His attempt to deflect attention completely failed this time.
Unexpectedly, that specific clip went insanely viral on social media, spreading across the entire internet. Everyone started making memes, ironically declaring, 'Actually, I'm not a Hollywood superstar.'
Even major late-night talk shows in the UK and the US started referencing the meme. The face of "Kai" had officially breached the perimeter of the mainstream entertainment industry.
The entire world was bearing witness: right now, Kai's global traffic and cultural relevance were absolutely unrivaled.
Kai played along perfectly. Later, during an interview with Sky Sports, when asked what his biggest problem was right now, Kai maintained a look of perfect, deadpan composure.
"I'm just too famous."
Amidst the excited chatter and bustling noise, Kai was greeted by the familiar faces from the cafe. Surrounded by camera flashes and cheers, these local residents felt incredibly welcoming.
Kai remembered all their names, greeting them individually with genuine warmth. The old guard of Maranello didn't treat him like a stranger either, happily tossing out jokes.
"Looks like you finally passed that driving test! They let you drive a car this valuable right off the bat?"
Kai let out a hearty laugh. "Thankfully it all went smoothly. Otherwise, tomorrow's headline in the Gazzetta dello Sport would read: New F1 World Champion Fails Driving Test."
His effortless banter instantly relaxed the atmosphere. Kai glanced back at the priceless vintage racer behind him.
"This 250 GTO is just a temporary loaner from the team. My current salary definitely can't afford a car like this. All my assets are mortgaged to Ferrari right now. My wallet is completely empty, which is why I'm here to scrounge a free meal at the canteen today. If I put even a single scratch on that car, I'm terrified I'll be trapped here as an indentured servant for the rest of my life."
"Honestly, should I start worrying about the safety of my bank accounts?"
Hahaha! The crowd roared with laughter.
As he spoke, he crossed the threshold into the Ferrari base. Not only were the fans outside still cheering and applauding, but the staff bustling around inside the facility were constantly calling out his name and offering congratulations. The entirety of Maranello was spinning on its axis because of Kai's arrival. That kind of genuine, heartfelt happiness couldn't be faked.
His brief vacation in Shanghai hadn't lasted long—barely two weeks. After a grueling year of non-stop global travel, he had finally gotten a chance to slow down, find some quiet, and spend a few idle, carefree days with his family and friends.
Song Bo, who was still chained to his daily university classes, had wailed in pure jealousy. After using Kai as an excuse to skip class for an entire week, the looming threat of final projects had finally forced him to slink miserably back to campus.
However, Song Bo didn't need to feel too heartbroken, because Kai's lazy days of eating and sleeping didn't last much longer either. He had to return to Maranello. There was a mountain of work to complete before the team could fully transition into pre-season preparations. If Ferrari intended to take another step forward next year, the tasks piled up before them were monumental, because Mercedes was absolutely not going to surrender without a brutal fight.
Without a doubt, Kai was still under contract with Ferrari. They had to thank Sergio Marchionne's visionary foresight for securing that critical leverage.
However, that leverage was also severely limited. Anyone with eyes could see that there wasn't just one or two rival teams willing to pay an astronomical buyout clause to poach him. They had already launched comprehensive covert operations, deploying countless subtle maneuvers both visible and hidden. If Ferrari couldn't demonstrate sufficient sincerity and ambition, the 2018 season might just be a blip before they plunged back into the dark ages overnight.
The Tifosi certainly didn't want to see that happen, and neither did Ferrari.
So, was this 250 GTO... a display of that sincerity?
Was it a bargaining chip presented by Ferrari, deliberately paraded in front of all their competitors to broadcast their absolute resolve and commitment?
The season was over; but simultaneously, the cutthroat, blood-soaked warfare of the new season had already begun.
They didn't even need to wait for 2019 to arrive. The off-track political chess match had escalated instantly. Without any build-up, the thick smoke of battle was already filling the air.
In fact, it wasn't just confined to the paddock. The massive wave of debate and controversy surrounding the 2018 season was still escalating rapidly. Formula 1 hadn't experienced a traffic surge of this magnitude in a very long time. This unparalleled mainstream crossover appeal was drawing a massive influx of new viewers to the sport.
Following the conclusion of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the boiling arguments and fierce debates on social media had fully detonated. The primary flashpoint was the Lap 53 collision between Kai and Hamilton. The FIA's refusal to intervene sparked vicious infighting—
Hamilton's fans vehemently believed the crash was entirely Kai's fault and that he deserved a severe time penalty. Therefore, the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix victory—and the Drivers' World Championship—rightfully belonged to Hamilton. They branded Kai a shameless thief who used dirty tactics to rob Hamilton of his fifth title. They even started trending the hashtag #Hamilton5TimeChamp, actively organizing their own defiant celebrations.
Kai's fans vehemently refused to swallow the insult. They pointed out that Hamilton was clearly at fault for refusing to yield the corner. And it wasn't just Lap 53; from the very first lap of the race, the FIA had blatantly and shamelessly favored Mercedes. They hadn't even penalized Sergio Perez's incredibly dangerous block in the pit lane. If Kai hadn't possessed an iron will and fought back cleanly on the track, the FIA practically would have rigged the race to hand Hamilton his fifth championship.
Back and forth, the arguments raged endlessly.
Clearly, the race was over, but the lingering shockwaves refused to settle. The two fanbases despised each other, and fundamentally, neither side was satisfied with the outcome.
And judging by the overall climate, this toxicity was going to bleed directly into the new season.
Infuriated, a faction of Mercedes fans completely lost their minds, launching indiscriminate scorched-earth attacks across all platforms. They didn't just target Ferrari and Kai; they attacked anyone and everyone, including Force India's Esteban Ocon and Toro Rosso's Pierre Gasly.
They genuinely believed Ocon and Gasly were sleeper agents deployed by Ferrari, orchestrating their respective retirements to trigger the safety cars and single-handedly script the outcome of the 2018 season finale.
In their eyes, Kai's World Championship was illegitimate and utterly unconvincing. Hamilton was the true, undisputed king of 2018.
Bizarrely enough, Force India found themselves thrust back into the center of the storm.
These fanatical supporters had completely abandoned logic, spinning a massive, sprawling conspiracy theory. They firmly believed Force India had orchestrated the entire season from behind the scenes.
First came Singapore. Perez completely altered the landscape of the race. On one hand, he deliberately blocked Verstappen, allowing Kai to successfully execute an overtake and earn the right to challenge Hamilton directly. On the other hand, Perez binned his car into the wall in the second half of the race, deploying a safety car that gave Kai the perfect opportunity to pit for fresh tires and hunt Hamilton down.
Then came Yas Marina. Ocon altered the outcome of the championship. First, there was his blatantly aggressive, borderline suicidal attack on Hamilton on lap one. Then, he 'faked' a power unit failure to trigger a safety car, facilitating the success of Kai's second 'Monza dummy' and once again backing Hamilton into a corner with no escape.
It was all Force India's fault!
And that wasn't even all of it. Force India had suffered a catastrophic financial crisis this season, throwing the entire paddock into chaos. Was that really just a coincidence?
No. In the F1 paddock, there are no coincidences. There was a puppet master pulling all the strings, and Ferrari was orchestrating the entire grand conspiracy solely to defeat Mercedes.
It was dirty. It was ugly. It was despicable. It was shady and completely unacceptable.
This small, vocal minority of fans trapped themselves in an echo chamber of delusion, unable to break free. Everything they saw—and everything they couldn't see—mutated into highly suspicious 'evidence' fueling their wild imaginations. As for the horrific pit lane near-miss between Perez and Kai? That was just a "pure accident," of course.
To summarize briefly, it boiled down to one simple sentence: They refused to accept it! Hamilton's World Championship had been stolen! It had been robbed!
However—
The general public completely disagreed. The facts simply did not lie.
Looking at the season as a whole, Kai had won a staggering nine Grand Prix victories, dominating the field and leaving the competition in the dust. Whether you measured peak performance or overall consistency, Kai was undeniably the most outstanding driver of the 2018 season. Emerging as an untested rookie, he had charged into the sport with explosive, blood-pumping energy, completely obliterating the established hierarchy.
Monaco! Monza! Singapore! Interlagos! Yas Marina!
Every single victory was a season-defining highlight. Any of them could easily rank among the top ten greatest races of the year. The drama was relentless, the execution was breathtaking!
And then there were Melbourne, the Red Bull Ring, Hockenheim, and COTA.
Every single race was a heart-stopping, adrenaline-fueled spectacle, packed with countless iconic moments. Whether it was brilliant team strategy or brutal on-track combat, the highlights were endless.
His performance in the first half of the season was a shocking, meteoric rise; the second half was a grueling series of bare-knuckle brawls!
Kai's Drivers' World Championship trophy was earned through blood, sweat, and gritted teeth, fought for race by agonizing race. Every single motorsport fan was a witness to that undeniable truth.
What made it truly extraordinary was the fact that Ferrari did not possess the fastest car on the grid this season. They were significantly slower than the Mercedes rocket ship, and even compared to Red Bull, it was a fiercely contested, neck-and-neck battle. Yet, trapped in such a brutal disadvantage, Kai had relied on his unparalleled talent and ability to flip the entire board—
He single-handedly broke the deadlock! It was nothing short of a miracle.
Who could possibly deny that? Even casual observers were completely in awe!