The crisis completely sealed off the road ahead. Time seemed to freeze, yet Alex Sun's mind was racing at full speed, searching frantically for a way out.
His 84-point Driving Technique paired with 58-point Emergency Reaction, boosted by the "Man and Machine as One" trait, pushed his attributes to their ceiling. Every thread of concentration was locked onto the track.
In a split second, clarity struck. A way through flashed into focus.
Time resumed.
Without hesitation, Alex Sun increased brake pressure. The left front tire locked instantly, white smoke pouring off the rubber as the car's speed dropped sharply.
The moment the wheel locked, he adjusted with surgical precision—easing off the brake just enough, making rapid, fine steering corrections, and subtly modulating the throttle. The entire sequence flowed in one seamless motion, controlled down to the smallest margin.
With extreme car control, the nose of his car sliced across the rear ends of the two wrecked cars ahead, sweeping from right to left and diving toward the inside line. Within inches, he forced open a gap that shouldn't have existed and made it through the corner cleanly.
But the danger wasn't over.
As the track narrowed, the two damaged cars drifted inward, completely blocking any retreat. Alex Sun had less than a heartbeat to react.
With no space left on the racing line, he was forced toward the pit lane exit transition section to avoid contact. Keeping the car under control, he used the open runoff to stabilize and rejoin safely. The two damaged cars ahead were still struggling for traction, and Alex Sun capitalized on their hesitation to clear them cleanly.
Position P5.
The two drivers he passed could do nothing. The earlier collision had left them powerless to respond. They could only watch Alex Sun pull away, while the pack behind them began to circle like sharks.
Mark's voice came through the TR, short and sharp.
"Beautiful move! You're P5. Daruvala ahead. He's slightly off his line. Watch your following distance."
In the commentary booth, Jolyon Palmer leaned forward, pointing at the replay. His voice was rapid with disbelief.
"Take a look at Alex Sun's onboard. Boschung and Pourchaire are right in front of him.
"They collide and completely block the exit. Alex slams the brakes, uses the lock-up to rotate the car, and comes out overtaking both of them. That's unbelievable control!"
The live chat erupted instantly. Messages flooded the screen too fast to follow.
"Holy hell! Escapes a dead end and still overtakes? That control is insane!"
"P8 to P5 in one shot!"
"What are you hyping? He locked up. Just lucky the two ahead crashed."
"Or maybe if he hadn't locked up he'd have plowed straight into them and retired?"
"Casual here, but that braking was next level."
Alex Sun stayed calm. No celebration, no overreaction. He immediately turned his focus to Daruvala.
Within a single corner he closed the gap, and on the straight before Turn 3 he latched onto the slipstream.
Using the reduced drag, he tracked Daruvala's racing line carefully, waiting for the exact moment.
At the end of the straight, Alex Sun suddenly moved left, positioning his car tight alongside and forcing Daruvala to defend the inside.
Before Daruvala could reset, Alex braked earlier and carved a perfect crossover line through Turn 3.
On exit, they ran side by side toward Turn 4.
Alex reacted first, locking down the inside. Just before turn-in, he braked later and secured the optimal line.
The car swept cleanly through Turn 4. The overtake was decisive.
P4.
No hesitation. No wasted movement.
Daruvala's expression darkened. He realized too late that he had been set up. Losing the ideal line cost him exit speed, and the gap began to grow immediately.
Mark's voice carried a hint of approval.
"Excellent. Watch for a counter from Daruvala. Armstrong ahead. Gap is 1.2 seconds."
Rebecca Lin sat in the second-floor grandstand, fists clenched, eyes rimmed red. Her gaze never left Alex Sun's car. She was thrilled, but barely dared to breathe.
In the booth, Jolyon Palmer's voice rose again.
"Brilliant! Slipstream to force defense, crossover through the corner, late braking to seal the inside—every move half a beat faster. From P5 to P4 just like that. That's elite-level execution!"
The chat exploded again.
"He's gone feral!"
"Daruvala had no answer."
"Armstrong next. Send it!"
"Was that deliberate from Daruvala? That mistake looked obvious."
"Stop trolling. Alex's lines are way cleaner than Armstrong's."
Now in P4, Alex Sun's momentum surged. He was already calculating ways to attack Armstrong ahead, mapping braking zones and potential weaknesses in his head.
Then he caught sight of a marshal holding a VS board trackside.
Instantly he understood. Yellow flag. Safety Car incoming.
His attack plan halted immediately. He eased off and stabilized his pace.
Almost at the same time, Mark's voice confirmed it over TR.
"Safety Car deployed. Hold position. We attack after restart."
"Copy."
He suppressed the urge to continue pushing. His nerves loosened slightly, and only then did he replay the chaos from the start in his mind. So many incidents, right from Turn 1.
He pressed the TR button.
"Mark, what exactly happened at Turn 1? I nearly got caught."
Mark answered crisply.
"Guanyu Zhou locked all four wheels before Turn 1 and hit Ticktum on the outside. You reacted fast. Otherwise you'd have been collected."
A cold sheen broke across Alex Sun's back. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
Good thing Zhou absorbed the bad luck. Otherwise that would've been me.
He steadied himself and asked, more quietly,
"They're okay?"
"Both fine. Guanyu Zhou retired. Ticktum dropped to the back, same as you last race."
Alex exhaled.
"That's good."
Mark continued.
"Boschung, who was ahead of you, has heavy front wing damage. Retired. There was another incident behind—Zendeli went into the run-off at Turn 2. Also out."
Alex couldn't help muttering over TR.
"Baku's cursed. Six red flags in qualifying. Now this many incidents in the sprint. It never ends."
Mark's tone softened slightly.
"Forget that. Focus on your rhythm. The whole team believes in you."
Alex Sun nodded faintly. He cleared the distractions from his mind and refocused. His fingers rested lightly on the steering wheel as his eyes locked onto Armstrong's car ahead.
He waited for the Safety Car to peel into the pit lane.
Their past battles replayed in his thoughts. Armstrong's braking rhythm. His preferred lines. Where he hesitated. Where he was vulnerable.
He already knew.
The restart would be his moment to strike again—another step closer to the podium.
...
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