My Formula 1 System

Luca's plan was unfolding even better than he had expected. He had so much time with Isabella, and surprisingly, Mr. Schafer was in high spirits, laughing and joking with such unusual enthusiasm that it almost seemed like he was laughing his health away.

Building by building, Luca showed Isabella around, taking her through every space reserved for Trampos—and not Avidavis. It was the only thing he could do to ease the tension now that they had caught up on the more personal discussions they had saved for an in-person talk.

By the time full darkness settled over the sky, Mr. Schafer still hadn't given Isabella any sign of when they would be leaving. Not even a simple heads-up.

And just as Luca had begun to suspect, Mr. Schafer decided to stay the night—a decision that came right after Mr. Ruben made the suggestion.

For the men, this change of plans was easy. For Isabella, a young lady? Not so much.

She was clearly unimpressed with the decision, voicing her discontent, but it didn't change anything.

Luca stepped in to ease the situation, casually mentioning that one of the female crew members had spare clothes and a coat Isabella could use, given the cold.

That seemed to settle things, and with that assurance, Mr. Schafer dismissed any further complaints, deciding they would leave the next day. He then seamlessly returned to his conversation with Mr. Ammermann, Mr. Ruben, and a few of the functionaries who had joined in.

Of course, in reality, there was no female crew member with spare clothes. The clothes in question were Luca's own unisex pieces he had never worn, part of the huge bulk of clothes he packed along. He could only hope Isabella's body could at least hold them up because they would definitely be oversized on her.

There was no way he was telling Mr. Schafer this, and there was even less of a chance that Isabella would agree to wear some random girl's clothes.

Luca led her to his room, quickly explaining how everything worked before leaving her to freshen up while he headed downstairs.

Under the dark sky, yet beneath the building lights, anyone in the facility could see Luca hanging out with the crew members. They were spending the last hour after dinner and before bedtime, talking, joking, and enjoying the same sitting area where Mr. Ruben and Mr. Ammermann had lounged when Isabella and her father arrived.

Luca felt like the oldest in the group, though that wasn't true.

The oldest was 21, the youngest 16, and at 19, he was right in the middle. Yet, everyone looked up to him, treating him with respect as he led the casual conversation.

Some admired him as a driver, wishing they had the talent to follow in his footsteps. Others simply found him captivating and attractive, whether for his achievements or the role he played as Trampos' main driver.

In truth, it wasn't Luca's age or experience that gave him this authority—it was his achievements, the respect he had earned, and his role that made him someone to be admired. If it weren't for that, he'd be just like the rest of them.

Isabella made her way to the down floor, offering a brief greeting to the men still deep in conversation in the lounge before stepping into the hallway that led to the exit, where the facility's lights stretched into the night.

Under those lights, she could see Luca on his feet, telling what must have been an amusing story, his energy drawing everyone in. The others sat around him, listening, laughter occasionally breaking the air.

She lingered for a moment, watching the scene unfold, but the moment didn't last long. Suddenly, the group stirred, shuffling to their feet as they turned toward the door, ready to call it a night.

She stepped aside to let them pass before heading toward Luca, who had already spotted her in the crowd.

"You came to get some fresh air?" Luca asked just as a cold breeze brushed past.

Isabella shook her head and dug her right hand into the oversized coat she wore. She had folded its bottom so it wouldn't drag on the ground. On Luca, that same coat stopped right at his shins—exactly where it should.

She pulled out her car keys and pointed at the vehicle beside them, still parked on the side of the pavement. It sat in the darkness like a predator lying in wait, its presence almost threatening, as if Luca were within its sights.

"I wanted to warm up the car and park it properly, I guess," Isabella said.

Luca nodded thoughtfully and gestured toward the car. "I'll help you navigate," he offered.

They walked over, and Isabella moved to the driver's side, but before she could open the door, Luca spoke up.

"I'm still surprised you can drive," he remarked. "And you even have a license, right?" His eyes studied hers.

Isabella smiled and shook her head slowly. "It's still being processed. You know, I just turned seventeen not too long ago."

Luca stared at her, stunned. "Are you kidding me? You're driving without a license? And in a country where you need to be eighteen? What if you get stopped?"

Isabella shrugged, tapping the tinted window. "The windows are dark. And I drive so well, no one would even notice it's a kid behind the wheel," she said, almost proudly.

Luca still couldn't wrap his head around it. He had yet to drive a normal car himself, and here she was, weaving through traffic, stopping at lights, smoothly maneuvering through crossings.

"You don't believe me?" Isabella said, glancing at the dark track ahead. "Get in. Let me show you."

Luca hesitated before exhaling and opening the same door he had held for Mr. Schafer earlier that day. Sliding into the passenger seat, he was immediately hit with the scent of fine leather.

Isabella strangely took a moment before getting in. Luca heard the back door open first, followed by the rustle of fabric.

When she finally slid into the driver's seat, she was wearing an oversized shirt that reached her knees.. Luca quickly turned his gaze to the dark track ahead, pretending not to notice.

His mind lingered on the shirt. He had never even worn it, let alone had it tailored to fit him properly, so it was practically humongous on Isabella.

The car's mellow interior lights flickered on as they both shut their doors. Luca didn't bother with his seatbelt, but Isabella did, the strap pressing against the loose fabric, outlining her frame. Luca forced himself to ignore it.

Isabella turned the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life. She glanced at him with a small, triumphant smile, as if expecting praise.

"You just started the car. Drive," Luca said flatly.

Isabella chuckled, switched on the headlights, and pressed the gas. The tires rolled forward, and soon, they were cruising down the empty track.

Luca glanced around, then at the side mirror, just to confirm—yes, Isabella was really the one driving. He then turned to her and a grin slowly spread across his face.

"I knew it," he said.

"You knew what?" Isabella asked, eyes locked on the road in concentration, though there was nothing ahead but endless asphalt.

"You're driving like a rookie."

"Luca, I AM a rookie."

She was clinging to the steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her socked feet hovered anxiously over both the brake and accelerator, shifting back and forth like she was expecting an emergency stop at any second. She wasn't speeding, but her posture made it seem like she was handling a high-speed chase. Read latest chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

It was obvious. She had confidence, but she was still an amateur.

"I guess so. But from the way you talked, I was expecting some Hitman-level driving."

"Give me a year, and you'll see," Isabella said with a mischievous smile. "This is just the beginning. Next year, you wouldn't dare skip your seatbelt. I'll be driving so close to danger, they'll make another Transporter movie in my name."

Luca smirked, shaking his head. He always found it hilarious how girls sometimes turn out to be unintentionally funny, just not when they were actually trying to be.

As Isabella drove through the dark track, the car moved steadily, its headlights cutting through the vast emptiness ahead. The road stretched on, silent and still, with no traffic, no streetlights, no pedestrians—just them and the open space of the facility's track. The tires hummed softly against the cold asphalt, and a steady rhythm slowly filled the quiet cabin.

At 500 meters in, Isabella's grip on the wheel loosened slightly. Her confidence grew with each passing second, though her posture still hinted at uncertainty.

Isabella glanced at Luca as she covered about half a kilometer. "Should I speed up?"

"Don't."

"Maybe it'll force you to put on your seatbelt. I feel like you're insulting my driving—calling it weak."

Luca shrugged, watching her posture as she stared at him, waiting for a response. "I mean… it is."

"Luca."

"Don't worry, you'll get stronger."

His words were punctuated by a sudden brake. Isabella let go of the wheel, turning to him with a challenging glare. "Why don't you show me how to drive? You're a PROFESSIONAL DRIVER, after all."

Luca wasn't one to back down from a challenge. With a smirk, he gave a slight bow, then opened the door and stepped onto the track.

He glanced around, trying to figure out which section they were in. This part of the road was nearly pitch-black, except for a few scattered lights. Leaving his door open, he walked around the car, past the headlights, the cold breeze sweeping through his hair.

Isabella's eyes followed him until he reached her door. He pulled it open and extended his hand to help her out. She stepped out and hurried to the passenger seat, shivering from the cold. Seconds later, they had successfully switched places.

"Now, drive. Let me see what you can do."

Luca chuckled, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a race. Driving a commercial car—something he'd never done—should be easy, right?

He settled into the seat, gripping the wheel. The engine was still running. A small part of him half-expected to hear [SYNCHRONIZING HOST…]—but nothing came. The Formula 1 System was really true to its word that it had nothing to do with anything but F1 cars.

What can be so difficult about a normal car? Luca thought, scanning the dashboard. There's a brake, an accelerator, a steering wheel… He noted the gear shifter, the digital speedometer, and the turn signal stalk—nothing remotely like a paddle shifter or DRS activation button. This should be easy.

"It seems you're confused," Isabella said smugly, folding her arms.

Luca pressed the brake, mistaking it for the accelerator. Instead of surging forward, the car jerked to an abrupt stop.

Realizing his mistake, he quickly adjusted, pressing the accelerator instead.

Isabella nearly laughed—until the car suddenly leaped forward, pinning her against the seat. She was immediately grateful she had her seatbelt on.

Luca was now driving. Not a Dallara, not a high-speed Formula 1 car—but a modern-day Toyota sedan, with a girl seated beside him.