"WOW—"
"An unbelievable weekend! Just like in Melbourne, when we arrived in Bahrain, we didn't predict the beginning, we didn't predict the middle, and we certainly didn't predict the ending. The surprises just keep coming!"
"Congratulations to Lewis Hamilton! Capping off an absolutely brilliant performance to claim the Bahrain Grand Prix victory!"
"Congratulations to Mercedes-Benz for securing their second consecutive double podium of the season. And this time, they've gone one step further, bringing it home for a 1-2 finish. Mercedes-Benz is enjoying a dreamlike start to the season, perfectly mirroring Ferrari's opening run from last year. They currently hold absolute, sweeping dominance in both the Constructors' and Drivers' Championship standings..."
Noise—Excitement—Chaos—
The world was spinning in a kaleidoscope of color. Motorsport fans were absolutely frantic. The 2019 season was undeniably living up to the massive hype. For the second consecutive race, they had witnessed a spectacular, high-stakes battle, with the blood-soaked suspense of victory or defeat stretching all the way to the very end.
During Qualifying, the Ferrari duo had delivered a phenomenal performance. Wringing the absolute limits out of their cars, they locked out the front row. Kai snatched pole position in only the second race of the season. Facing the fiercely aggressive, rapidly rising challenge from his teammate Leclerc, the defending champion ultimately proved superior, utilizing an unparalleled performance to defend his territory. The young Ferrari Twin Stars shone brilliantly, sending the Tifosi into joyous rapture.
The Mercedes-Benz duo occupied the second row, perfectly reversing the starting grid order from the season opener.
However, during the Race, Mercedes-Benz radiated blinding light and completely stole the show. In long-run race trim, the W10 displayed top-tier adaptability and terrifying stability. Amidst the unbearable, scorching heat of Bahrain, they delivered an unmatched answer sheet. Their long-run performance completely outclassed their competitors, including Ferrari, orchestrating a magnificent come-from-behind victory against the wind.
Conversely, Ferrari—after showcasing elite, top-tier competitiveness in single-lap pace during Qualifying—found the Race to be an absolute, unmitigated disaster. It was nothing but trouble, trouble, and more trouble. The glaring shortfall in their long-run stability was brutally exposed. It wasn't just catastrophic tire management; the extreme heat triggered a cascade of secondary failures, including severe brake overheating and chronic, unpredictable oversteer.
During the race, Borreipaire's desperate radio demand for Kai to "LiCo" instantly went viral across social media—
"LiCo" is the abbreviation for "Lift-And-Coast."
In Formula 1, there are primarily two scenarios that demand this specific driving technique.
The first is lifting off the throttle to actively cool the tires. During a race, tires subjected to continuous, aggressive acceleration are highly prone to overheating. Once they cross a critical thermal threshold, they can suffer a catastrophic, cliff-drop loss of performance. When that happens, the driver must immediately manage the temperatures. Occasionally, before entering low or medium-speed corners, they must lift off the throttle slightly earlier than usual, allowing the car to essentially 'coast' into the corner, shedding thermal energy from the rubber.
The vast majority of the time, LiCo is utilized to cool the rear tires. However, in rare, extreme circumstances, it's also applied to cool the front tires. If a driver is forced to use LiCo to actively cool the front tires, it means the car is suffering from a very, very severe overheating crisis.
The second scenario is much more straightforward: fuel saving. Nearing the end of a long straight, the driver lifts off the throttle early, allowing the car to coast into the braking zone. This technique can save a few grams of fuel per lap. While seemingly insignificant, those few grams can absolutely determine the outcome of a race.
The theoretical explanation sounds incredibly complex, but the practical translation is devastatingly simple—
Stop pushing.
It doesn't just mean "stop pushing the car to its absolute limit." It means actively slowing your rhythm, protecting the machinery, and deliberately driving below your average capable pace.
If a race engineer is constantly, frantically reminding a driver to LiCo during a Grand Prix, the harsh reality couldn't be clearer: the car is operating severely over its maximum physical capacity. It literally cannot sustain the required racing pace. The driver must immediately step in and artificially manage the situation, otherwise the machinery will completely disintegrate, or they might not even possess enough fuel to finish the race.
To put it bluntly: the car is dying.
Normally, the mere necessity of LiCo is already a terrible sign, indicating the car is trapped in a dire predicament. But the reason the radio exchange between Borreipaire and Kai went massively viral wasn't just because of the LiCo order itself—
It was the sheer, farcical absurdity of it all. First, the rear tires overheated. Once they managed that, the front tires overheated. Once they managed the front tires, the brake pads began to cook. And once they managed the brake pads, the rear tires instantly overheated again. It was an endless, agonizing cycle of torture. A literal circle of hell with no escape.
Finally, utterly exasperated and resigned to his fate, Kai deadpanned over the radio, "Welcome aboard the cruise ship of terror."
Borreipaire couldn't hold it in any longer. Both he and Kai burst into loud, hysterical laughter over the open channel.
However, anyone with a functioning brain could tell this absolutely wasn't the laughter of happiness. It was the desperate, darkly humorous laughter of people pushed to the absolute breaking point of misery, finding amusement purely in the absurdity of their own suffering.
The second half of the Bahrain Grand Prix was an unmitigated disaster for Ferrari. It wasn't a strategic failure; the car simply couldn't survive the conditions.
Both Kai and Leclerc spent the entire stint wrestling cars that felt like they were going to spontaneously combust at any given second, desperately trying to limp to the finish line while fending off wave after wave of relentless attacks from their rivals.
And it wasn't just Mercedes-Benz. Red Bull's Max Verstappen was charging like a rabid animal.
Having qualified fifth, Verstappen engaged in a relentless, bloodthirsty pursuit. After successfully overtaking Leclerc, he pushed flat-out, desperately closing the gap. With five laps remaining, he finally dragged himself into Kai's DRS window.
In the dying stages of the race, the entire paddock's attention shifted away from the battle for the victory. All eyes were locked on Verstappen's powerful, aggressive assault on the final podium position.
Yet, Kai delivered another logic-defying, miraculous performance. Utilizing unparalleled driving skill and defensive mastery, he ruthlessly choked off the racing line. On three separate occasions, he faced life-or-death crises, teetering on the absolute edge of the abyss, yet miraculously managed to pull himself back from the brink every single time. Through sheer, terrifying force of will, he violently held Verstappen at bay. Putting his generational talent on full, glorious display, he ignited a massive wave of online hype.
Verstappen fought with everything he had until the very last second. Exactly like Kai chasing down Ricciardo at the Shanghai Grand Prix last year, the suffocating suspense lasted through the final corner and all the way down the main straight to the finish line.
Ultimately!
Kai crossed the line a mere 0.277 seconds ahead of Verstappen, defending third place with his life.
Verstappen was agonizingly forced to settle for fourth.
Leclerc crossed the finish line in fifth.
Finally, the Bahrain Grand Prix drew to a close—
The nightmare was finally over.
All the noise, all the chaos, slowly settled. The crowds dispersed, the floodlights were extinguished, and the paddock, cloaked under the blanket of night, slipped into quiet tranquility. Team personnel were busy packing up equipment, preparing for the massive logistical migration to the next race. Only the vast, starry sky remained, quietly eavesdropping on the lingering activity within the pit lane.
When Binotto finished his immediate post-race duties and hurried toward the conference room for the evening debrief, he was confident he was already five minutes late.
Yet, upon arriving at the conference room, he saw Kai and Leclerc sitting cross-legged on the floor at the very end of the hallway, deeply engrossed in a game of chess.
Binotto: ?
"Kai, sorry, I'm late. Come on, let's head inside," Binotto said hurriedly, not breaking his stride.
Kai's voice drifted from behind him. "Mattia, you go on ahead. We'll be right there."
Binotto froze. He turned around, finally noticing that Kai and Leclerc were still sitting firmly on the floor. Neither of them showed the slightest intention of getting up.
His gaze shifted down to the chessboard resting between them. His exhausted, chaotic brain finally processed the reality of the situation. Kai and Leclerc weren't 'running late.' They were deliberately refusing to go inside.
Pausing for a moment, Binotto finally understood what was happening—
Kai was intentionally leaving the room. He was deliberately giving the technical team space to argue and debate amongst themselves.
Ten days ago in Maranello, Kai had brutally, violently ripped the mask off the technical team, laying all his cards on the table. He had administered a terrifyingly potent dose of harsh medicine, triggering a massive, earth-shattering hurricane within the base.
The shock and awe had far exceeded anyone's imagination. It wasn't merely a technical debate; Kai was actively attempting to violently uproot and cure the chronic, systemic disease that had plagued Ferrari for years. Even an outsider could feel the violent tremors. As the man standing dead center in the eye of the storm, Binotto was intimately aware of the true severity of the situation.
Chaos. Controversy. Rebellion. Every conceivable high-tension emotion had seized control, burning logic and rationality to ash.
However, the conclusion of the Bahrain Grand Prix, with every agonizing detail and failing component, served as absolute, undeniable proof:
Kai was right.
You didn't need to be a genius to predict what was happening. The second wave of impact was currently crashing down upon the technical team with devastating force. Right now, the inside of that conference room had to look like a Category 5 hurricane violently colliding with a Category 4 tsunami. A clash of absolute disasters, comparable to the end of the world.
Hesitating slightly, Binotto looked at the conference room door, then down at his watch. Ultimately, he turned around, walked over, and sat cross-legged on the floor directly across from Kai and Leclerc.
Leclerc: ...Uh, what?
Leclerc panicked visibly. He stared wide-eyed at Binotto, a profound sense of anxious apprehension crashing around wildly inside his chest. If Binotto is just going to sit here on the floor with us... what are we supposed to do?!
He looked at Binotto, then looked at Kai. A short distance down the hallway, the conference room felt like a gaping maw leading straight to purgatory. The ticking of the clock hammered relentlessly against his heart. His pulse spiraled out of control. His chaotic, tangled thoughts simply refused to quiet down.
It was in moments like this that Leclerc's youth truly showed.
More accurately, it wasn't just his youth; it was a fundamental difference in mentality.
Last year at Sauber, Leclerc had carried no baggage. He traveled light, maintained pure focus, and simply concentrated on proving himself race by race. The objective was straightforward and uncomplicated.
But this year at Ferrari... this was the singular dream Leclerc had obsessively pursued since childhood. Now that it was finally a reality, the deeply ingrained filter of reverence and worship he held for Ferrari remained firmly in place. It was incredibly difficult for him to view the current situation with calm, objective detachment. And that was before factoring in the massive, crushing weight of external expectations and pressure piling up at the start of the season.
Finding himself thrust into the middle of such a chaotic, highly political standoff, it was entirely normal that Leclerc felt temporarily overwhelmed and unable to process the situation.
After all, a freak of nature like Kai—who could stand face-to-face with the towering monolith of Ferrari and remain perfectly, breezily unbothered—was a once-in-a-decade, perhaps once-in-a-generation anomaly. The sheer rarity of his composure was terrifying in its own right.
Thinking about it from this perspective, the frustrated anxiety knotting Binotto's chest eased slightly. When he looked at Leclerc, a faint hint of amusement had already returned to his eyes.
"It's your move, Charles."
Leclerc froze. It took him half a beat to realize what Binotto was talking about. The chess game. He scratched his head, glanced down at the board, and without really thinking about it, made a highly aggressive, impulsive move.
Kai looked up, an eyebrow arching slightly. "Charles, are you absolutely sure about that?"
Leclerc let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Kai, are you absolutely sure this game of chess is the most important thing right now?"
"Of course it is. I'm currently winning," Kai replied, his eyes bright and completely serious.
The retort got stuck in Leclerc's throat. Ultimately, he surrendered, utterly defeated. "I know."
Kai shook his head. "Normally, you would never surrender this easily. No matter what game we're playing, you fight tooth and nail for the win. Your competitive drive is no joke."
"Yes, I know," Leclerc said, his face a mask of profound depression. "But right now isn't exactly 'normal,' is it?" Helplessly, he turned to Binotto, silently begging for assistance. "Right, Mattia?"
Binotto had been quietly studying the board. The game was indeed practically over. Leclerc was completely distracted and currently getting slaughtered by Kai.
What was truly fascinating, however, was that Binotto could clearly see it: even though Leclerc's attention was a million miles away, Kai hadn't shown the slightest intention of underestimating his opponent. He was methodically, coldly executing his overall strategy, unhurried and unpanicked, fully committed, and completely engrossed in analyzing the board before him.
A simple game of chess perfectly reflected their respective mental states in this exact moment. Behind the closed doors of the conference room, an apocalyptic, disaster-level storm was raging. Playing a game of chess mere feet from ground zero... it was impossible not to leak subtle clues about one's true emotional state.
Only then did Binotto finally raise his head and look directly at Kai, his thoughts shifting. "You anticipated this from the very beginning, didn't you?"
Although phrased as a question, the sheer weight and conviction behind his words made it sound like an absolute statement of fact.
Kai laughed. He shook his head. "I'm not a prophet. How could I possibly calculate every single variable flawlessly? I can't predict the future, and I don't possess the absolute 'correct' answer."
Binotto pressed on. "But you knew we were going to hit a massive, unavoidable brick wall in Bahrain."
Kai shook his head again. "No. I didn't know that for sure."
He focused entirely on the objective facts. There was no need to deny credit that was rightfully his, but it was equally foolish and arrogant to blindly claim credit for brilliant strategic foresight he didn't actually possess.
"Mattia, we all knew perfectly well that the SF90's problems weren't isolated to just one or two minor components. The flaws are deeply structural. If we don't address the root cause, then as we face entirely different challenges on entirely different circuits, the car will naturally, inevitably expose entirely different fatal weaknesses. The specific conditions in Melbourne and Bahrain are drastically different, which means the specific nightmares we face are also drastically different."
"The only thing I knew with absolute certainty was that these problems were going to slowly, inevitably expose themselves. We needed to collect significantly more data. We needed to build a comprehensive database across multiple races and multiple track layouts. Only then could we identify the true structural bottleneck. Then, through targeted upgrades, we could fundamentally cure the disease. The 'Band-Aid' approach—treating the head when the head hurts, treating the foot when the foot hurts—was never going to be a viable, long-term solution."
"If the entire team was willing to cooperate and work together as a cohesive unit, we could have methodically, step by step, collected the data and analyzed the problems."
"But clearly, I am not a dictator. I don't have the power to unilaterally order the team to function that way."
In truth, as evidenced by the Bahrain Grand Prix Qualifying session, the SF90 was genuinely competitive in single-lap pace. Kai and Leclerc had locked out the front row.
The true, fatal disease lay in the car's long-run stability and endurance. A portion of that could be mitigated and managed through the driver's technique and pacing adjustments. But the other, foundational portion required addressing the structural and essential design flaws.
Therefore, Kai's original master plan had been to proceed gradually, following a methodical, step-by-step process, fostering a spirit of unified collaboration. By running three or four races across entirely different track layouts, they could compile a massive dataset, building a comprehensive database for the technical team. This would not only pinpoint the exact root causes of the problems but also naturally guide them toward the necessary engineering solutions.
That was the original plan. A gentle breeze and a nurturing rain. Quiet, invisible, yet profound change.
However, reality brutally proved that this was nothing more than Kai's own wishful thinking.
Therefore, in Maranello, Kai saw an opening. Riding the current, he deliberately detonated the underlying contradictions, intentionally escalating the conflict and proactively triggering the massive hurricane.
Immediately following that, in Bahrain, the precise problems they faced surfaced one by one. The brutal facts and raw telemetry data perfectly validated Kai's initial hypothesis, continuously hammering away at the perceived absolute authority of the technical team.
To put it bluntly: he was violently slapping them in the face, ensuring every single strike landed with perfect, agonizing accuracy.
Right now, the conference room was likely tearing itself apart, experiencing earth-shattering tremors and internal collapse. But sometimes, a massive dose of harsh, bitter medicine is required. A rapid, violent plunge to rock bottom can trigger an equally rapid, explosive rebound. Perhaps they could solve the problem in a single, devastating stroke. Perhaps this was the only way to force those stubborn, deeply entrenched, decaying 'professionals' to finally swallow their arrogance, cast aside their massive egos, and actually start listening to Kai's voice.
Honestly, they didn't really have a choice anymore.
Because Kai had left them absolutely zero room to maneuver. In the span of just ten short days, he had violently shattered their confidence twice, mercilessly grinding the very things they were most proud of into fine dust, throwing it on the floor, and stomping on it repeatedly.
The furious, apoplectic rage currently exploding inside that conference room? While it might look like a desperate attempt to reclaim their shattered dignity, it was, in reality, nothing more than the final, futile death throes of a defeated ideology.
In the corporate world, you can't push things too far to the absolute extreme. You still have to leave them a tiny sliver of face. That was exactly why Kai had dragged Leclerc out into the hallway. He deliberately left them space. He allowed them a closed environment to violently vent their emotions. Once the hurricane passed and the dust settled, they would re-enter the room, calmly discuss the next steps, and establish a brand new, highly functional collaborative paradigm.
All of this was, in reality, a meticulously calculated game of chess.
Even Binotto himself had been maneuvered into playing a specific role.
However, Binotto was still a seasoned, highly experienced veteran. Never let the nerdy, thick-rimmed glasses fool you. For a man to climb through the brutal, blood-soaked political trenches of Maranello all the way to the position of Technical Director, and then successfully usurp the Team Principal role following Arrivabene's departure... he was absolutely not just an innocent, harmless Smurf.
By observing the subtle clues and reading between the lines, Binotto had gathered enough information to fully grasp the reality of the situation. He had finally snapped out of his daze.
Perhaps Kai was telling the absolute truth. The original plan had derailed, everything plunged into chaos, and all Kai had done was ride the resulting wave, redirecting the momentum to his advantage.
But amidst that chaos and unpredictability, the ability to improvise flawlessly on the fly, accurately read the shifting winds, and effortlessly seize total control of the overarching narrative... that was a terrifying capability. It was absolutely not as simple or accidental as Kai made it appear.
Binotto stared quietly at Kai. He looked at him for a long, long time. "So today... is that why you pushed so incredibly hard on the track?"
There was no denying the SF90 possessed numerous, severe flaws. But to the extent the Number 22 car displayed in Bahrain? The endless string of LiCo commands? The entire rhythm of the race being shattered into a million fragmented pieces?
It was still far, far beyond their worst-case projections.
It felt exactly like a brutal, stinging slap across Binotto's face—
The SF90 was the very masterpiece developed under his direct leadership as Technical Director.
Furthermore, the radio exchange between Borreipaire and Kai had gone massively viral, dominating social media discussions. The Tifosi were leading the charge, mocking and roasting the team.
The sheer volume of public pressure had left Binotto completely overwhelmed and severely battered.
Therefore, Binotto had ample reason to suspect that Kai had driven the race exactly like that on purpose. He suspected Kai had deliberately poured salt into the technical team's open wounds, intentionally provoking their highly sensitive nerves, and actively dragging Maranello's internal, covert conflicts out into the blinding light of public scrutiny to garner external support.
The air instantly tightened.
Leclerc, who had been sitting obediently and quietly on the floor, could distinctly feel the oxygen being violently sucked out of the hallway. The atmosphere stretched taut like a piano wire. Instinctively, he held his breath.
Binotto's seemingly plain, unassuming question was hiding a massive payload of explosives and razor-sharp blades. It erupted like a volcano, instantly surrounding and suffocating Kai.
Yet, Kai didn't avert his gaze.
He didn't look away, and simultaneously, he showed absolutely zero signs of panic or anxiety. Kai simply stared straight back, looking directly through the thick-rimmed glasses, locking eyes with Binotto.
He didn't rush to answer. He didn't offer a frantic defense or a convoluted explanation. His gaze was completely open, utterly transparent, welcoming Binotto's questioning scrutiny and allowing the heavy silence to stretch out between them.
One second... Two seconds...
Leclerc, sitting on the sidelines, felt like he was suffocating. His cheeks flushed bright red. Finally, Kai broke the deadlock, responding with a tone that was neither subservient nor arrogant.
"What if I told you... I was simply fighting for the victory?"
It was a non-answer. Kai hadn't explicitly confirmed it, but he hadn't denied it either.
"As long as a driver is out there on the asphalt, they want to push endlessly forward. They want to overtake every single competitor in front of them. They want to constantly challenge their own absolute limits. If they just wanted to experience the sensation of driving in circles without any real stakes, they'd go drive bumper cars at an amusement park."
As he spoke, Kai calmly reached out and moved a piece on the chessboard.
"Checkmate."
He said it softly.
Leclerc: ???
Binotto's gaze remained firmly locked onto Kai, never wavering for a fraction of a second. That face, which usually appeared so harmless and approachable, radiated a sudden, terrifyingly sharp edge in the quiet hallway. It was the precise, calculating look of an apex predator.
He was exactly like a fox hiding in the shadows. People constantly underestimated him, lulled into a false sense of security by his cute, docile exterior, completely forgetting the brutal reality that he was a highly efficient carnivore.
In truth, Binotto had known all along that Kai was not the enemy.
They both fundamentally belonged to the technical faction. Compared to the management faction, which worshipped corporate profit above all else, they were significantly purer and much more straightforward. Their singular, burning desire was simply to return to the absolute pinnacle of motorsport on the asphalt.
Therefore, during the off-season, when he had extended an olive branch to Kai, it was far more than just a tactical political maneuver.
The current situation was merely a disagreement over the most effective method for leading and managing the technical faction.
Deep down in his bones, Binotto remained a true Ferrari man. He firmly believed that dirty laundry should never be aired in public. Internal contradictions and conflicts should remain strictly confined within the walls of Maranello. Outsiders had no right to pry, and they certainly shouldn't be handed ammunition to use against the team. He was fully prepared to harshly reprimand his own technical team behind closed doors, but he absolutely refused to allow outsiders to do so. He felt a profound obligation to protect his people.
However, Kai possessed absolutely no such scruples. He was radically aggressive and uncompromisingly hardline.
And because of that, Binotto had been thrust into a deeply agonizing, highly stressful position. The entire reason he was late to the technical debrief today was because he had been mercilessly bombarded by the media and the Netflix documentary crew, running around frantically trying to put out massive PR fires.
It wasn't that Binotto didn't possess a temper; it was just that his temper was hidden deep within his bones.
Wasn't there an old saying? The honest man rarely gets angry, but when he finally does, he is truly the most terrifying of all.
Hesitation, wavering, and deep unease swirled within him. But in the very end, Binotto swallowed every last drop of his frustration. He made his decision. He would continue to put his absolute faith in Kai—
...Mattia, you possess capability and incredible insight, but you lack ruthlessness. You are brilliant at managing the overarching big picture, but you are incapable of executing brutal, decisive actions when they are required. If you possessed that trait, compared to Maurizio, you would undeniably be the absolutely correct choice to lead Ferrari.
Mattia, do you believe me? The absolute future of Ferrari rests entirely upon his shoulders. I know that given your personality, it's incredibly difficult for you to understand, but I have a profound premonition about this.
He wasn't acting based on his own judgment. He was acting because he trusted Sergio Marchionne's judgment.
Why does a functional team require vastly different types of talent?
Because absolutely no one is perfect. Everyone possesses their own unique strengths and fatal weaknesses. By complementing each other's flaws, they can ultimately forge a complete, unbreakable unit.
Perhaps, he truly needed to place a little more faith in the young man sitting across from him.
Thinking of this, Binotto asked, "Why didn't you just go straight into the conference room?"
"I was waiting for you," Kai replied, flashing a bright smile.
It was exactly the same answer he had given last time in Maranello. Binotto tilted his head slightly. "Why? The telemetry data is sitting right there on the table. The underlying engineering principles are exactly the same. What difference does it make?"
Kai shook his head. "No. It makes a massive difference."
"Human beings are incredibly complex, highly irrational animals. Given the exact same set of telemetry data and the exact same engineering principles... if you present them, versus if I present them, their psychological receptiveness and defensive posture will be vastly different. Furthermore, timing is everything. Trying to reason with them now, versus waiting a little while until they've completely exhausted themselves and vented all their toxic emotions... the ultimate efficiency of that communication will be entirely different."
"Sometimes, I'm perfectly willing to step up and play the role of the undisputed leader. Sometimes, I need to seamlessly blend in and just be another member of the team. But sometimes... I need to play the role of the villain."
"Every single team needs a villain to unite everyone else against a common enemy, right?"
Binotto stared at Kai. The confidence in those eyes wasn't loud or arrogant, nor was it wildly unhinged. It simply radiated a quiet, steady, undeniable brilliance. Involuntarily, the corners of Binotto's mouth crept upward into a genuine smile.
If he hadn't personally witnessed Kai's step-by-step evolution through the Ferrari Driver Academy with his own eyes, Binotto would absolutely refuse to believe this young man was only nineteen years old.
"Good cop, bad cop. Is that what you mean?" Binotto asked.
Kai shook his head. He pointed directly at Binotto. "Good guy." Then, he pointed back at himself and Leclerc. "Bad guys."
"It's really that simple. We are the drivers. We are fundamentally not in the exact same camp as the engineers. It is actually highly beneficial for us to draw a very clear, distinct line."
Ha!
Binotto couldn't suppress his laughter.
He had never, in his wildest dreams, imagined he would ever hear that specific sentence come out of Kai's mouth. The engineers constantly muttered and complained every single day, desperately wishing they could dig a massive, unbridgeable trench to separate themselves from the drivers. Yet now, hearing Kai state it so plainly, it carried a profound sense of dark, ironic humor.
The unease, the lingering confusion... it all finally settled.
Binotto reclaimed his unwavering resolve. And it wasn't just because of Marchionne's prophetic words. He absolutely shouldn't forget what had happened after the summer break at Spa last year.
If it hadn't been for Kai, the technical faction would have been swallowed whole and eaten alive by the management faction long ago.
And then, Binotto looked back at Kai. The absolute last trace of hesitation in his eyes had vanished without a trace. "So. How exactly should we approach our very first upgrade package?"
Just as expected—
Kai already possessed a preliminary blueprint in his mind. Even though he fully acknowledged he wasn't a certified aerodynamicist, this time, he didn't bother with polite, false humility.
"The current iteration of the SF90 is hyper-sensitive to wind direction and ambient temperature. The front axle severely lacks mechanical bite. The tires are agonizingly slow to reach their operating temperature window off the line, and corner entry is so unstable it makes launching a genuine attack practically impossible."
"For our immediate next steps: we first need to aggressively adjust the front wing angle of attack, and heavily modify the rear suspension damping characteristics. We need to actively experiment with entirely different downforce configurations and ratios. We have to desperately try to find a viable, sustainable operational window for long-run race pace."
Binotto nodded gently in complete agreement.
This was merely the very first step. The season was actively ongoing. The championship wouldn't hit the pause button and wait for them just because Williams still hadn't figured out how to build a functioning race car.
Therefore, utilizing the existing chassis, they had to aggressively manipulate the setup parameters to adapt to drastically different track layouts. They would have to rely heavily on the sheer talent and tenacity of their two drivers to keep them within striking distance of the leaders. At this current stage, their absolute primary objective was to ensure they weren't completely dropped by Mercedes-Benz, while simultaneously doing absolutely everything in their power to manufacture difficulties and obstacles for them. The true, fundamental breakthrough, however, would have to wait for the introduction of major upgrade packages.
"Step Two: we urgently require an entirely redesigned front wing concept. We must abandon the obsessive pursuit of absolute peak theoretical downforce. We need to prioritize and guarantee front-axle stability above all else."
"We also need to completely restructure the airflow field underneath the floor. We must sacrifice a portion of our peak efficiency in exchange for a vastly wider, far more forgiving operational window."
They were just two brief, seemingly casual sentences. They sounded as simple as simple could be. But Binotto intimately understood the terrifying, colossal weight hidden behind those words. His heart clenched violently, and his brow furrowed into a deep, agonizing knot.
Binotto raised his head and looked dead at Kai. "You understand exactly what that means."
Kai offered a slight, almost imperceptible shrug. "We sacrifice Qualifying."
Race car upgrades cannot be achieved in a single, miraculous leap. The entire engineering team must engage in a brutal cycle of continuous research, relentless testing, and constant adjustment. Furthermore, not every single upgrade package is guaranteed to deliver positive progress; occasionally, updates result in catastrophic backward steps. They had to pursue the ultimate limit through a grueling process of constant trial, error, and strategic detours. That agonizing pursuit of perfection was the true, underlying magic of Formula 1.
Throughout this grueling process, they absolutely had to learn the brutal art of compromise and sacrifice.
"Mattia, please believe me. I desperately wish we could simply cruise from pole position to a flawless victory, effortlessly sweeping every single race. But clearly, that is wildly unrealistic right now."
"If you force me to choose... I am more than willing to return to the scenario we faced last year. We might not be able to wring the absolute, ultimate limit out of the car in Qualifying, but our long-run race performance will be rock solid. We can rely on superior strategy, and we can rely on our blood and sweat on the asphalt to violently claw those positions back on Sunday."
As he spoke, Kai turned his head to look at Leclerc.
Leclerc was still staring intensely at the chessboard, seemingly entirely unable to comprehend how Kai had managed to put him in checkmate.
Suddenly sensing the intense gaze shifting toward him, Leclerc snapped his head up in a panic. "Huh?" Clearly, his brain's processing speed was lagging severely behind the conversation.
That adorably clueless, bewildered expression caused Binotto's eyes to crinkle into two crescent moons behind his thick glasses. The smile on his face almost overflowed.
In a very rare display, Binotto actually found the mood to crack a joke. "Kai, are you absolutely certain this teammate of yours is functioning correctly? Do you want us to swap him out for a new one during the summer break?"
Leclerc: ?
Hey! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!
Leclerc immediately snapped his spine straight. Sitting ramrod straight, his upper body perfectly rigid, he glared at Binotto with wide, indignant eyes. Simultaneously, he sneakily tried to elbow Kai in the ribs, a desperate, silent plea for his friend to stop talking nonsense. However, his elbow flailed wildly in the empty air for several seconds without hitting anything solid. Panicking, he quickly turned his head.
Only to see that Kai had leaned his entire upper body far backward, smoothly dodging the attack. He was lounging comfortably, thoroughly enjoying the show, his eyes and mouth overflowing with massive, undisguised amusement.
"Ha. Ha." Leclerc glared at Kai, radiating profound, existential exasperation.
Actually, despite his brief moment of zoning out, his attention hadn't entirely vanished. The crucial details of the conversation between Kai and Binotto had been quietly cataloged away in his memory.
Leclerc took a deep breath, finally fully catching up to the current reality. "Mm. I agree. My opinion is exactly the same as Kai's."
"Last year at Sauber, we also faced a mountain of severe problems during Qualifying. But the Race is a completely different beast. I believe in our capabilities. Unlike certain World Champions, I have absolute, unshakeable confidence in us. I firmly believe we possess the talent to reverse any disadvantage during the Race. We are the strongest driver pairing in the entire paddock."
As he spoke, he threw another pointed look at Kai.
Kai finally sat back up, his expression suddenly adopting a mask of utmost sincerity. "Yes, yes, yes. Exactly. Everything Charles just said is absolutely correct."
Leclerc maintained a forced, perfectly pleasant smile.
At that moment, Kai shifted his focus back to Binotto. "I know that if our Qualifying performances suffer, or if we consistently fail to secure pole position, the media is absolutely going to lose their minds. They won't leave us alone. But right now, we cannot afford to care about their useless, chaotic noise. The only thing we need to care about are points. The actual, tangible points we can secure on Sunday."
"And I also have absolute faith in the Tifosi. They will stand firmly behind us, unyielding and loyal, no matter what."
"Therefore."
He took a deep, centering breath.
"We must prioritize Race pace first. We will worry about Qualifying performance later. A fundamental, foundational update to our aerodynamic philosophy is a massive, incredibly complex undertaking. But it is undeniably our absolute, most urgent priority."
Ruthless, decisive, and fully understanding the brutal necessity of sacrifice—
You cannot have your cake and eat it too.
Of course, if they could miraculously achieve perfection in both areas, that would naturally be the ultimate ideal, exactly like Mercedes-Benz had managed. But if they couldn't... then they absolutely had to display the courage to make a definitive choice.
Knowing exactly how to untangle a massive, chaotic mess, accurately judge the relative importance and urgency of competing crises, and rapidly establish a clear direction and functional order... that was an absolutely indispensable quality for achieving true greatness.
Binotto looked at the young Kai sitting across from him. Calm, unbothered, effortless. The sheer decisiveness radiating from his every casual movement was tough, resilient, and undeniably hardline.
Marchionne's prophetic words once again crystallized in his mind, growing clearer and more resonant piece by piece. Kai had always possessed a crystal-clear understanding of his own position. He was, ultimately, not a trained engineer. His role was strictly limited to providing raw feedback, offering perspective, and illuminating the correct overarching direction. The actual, highly technical execution and the granular, practical engineering applications were still entirely the responsibility of the technical team.
He advanced and retreated with perfect, immaculate timing. Flawless execution. He was neither arrogantly conceited, nor did he selfishly attempt to overreach his authority. Balancing perfectly on the incredibly ambiguous, razor-thin line separating their roles, he had found an absolutely flawless foothold.
Closing his eyes, Binotto took a long, deep breath. He meticulously reorganized and recalibrated his thoughts one final time. When he opened his eyes again, he had completely reclaimed his unshakeable calm.
"I will go in first. You two keep an eye on the time and come in when you're ready." Binotto stood up. He patted Leclerc gently on the shoulder. Without lingering for another second, he turned and marched purposefully toward the conference room.
He threw open the heavy doors—
WHOOSH!
A rolling wave of blistering, suffocating heat violently poured out of the room, aggressive and scalding. Even without being able to visually see the chaotic scene inside, his senses of hearing, touch, and smell were instantly assaulted by the explosive, swords-drawn tension saturating the air.
Without a shred of hesitation, Binotto stepped directly into the inferno. He didn't roar. He didn't scream. He simply, quietly closed the heavy doors behind him. The motion was even gentler and more controlled than his usual demeanor. Yet, those surging, violent heatwaves were instantly, decisively sealed away behind the solid wood. Only a faint, muffled vibration of chaos remained, beating weakly against their eardrums.
Leclerc looked slightly uneasy. Lowering his voice to a hushed whisper, he asked, "Kai... is this really going to be okay?"
Could the mild-mannered, seemingly fragile Binotto truly seize control of a hurricane of that magnitude?
However, this time Leclerc didn't receive an immediate answer. Turning his head, he saw Kai lying flat on his back on the floor, his arms spread wide, letting out a massive, monumental sigh of relief.
It wasn't until this exact moment that his master plan had finally taken its most solid, foundational first step.
From the very moment he signed his contract extension during the off-season, Kai had been meticulously brewing this layout—
Studying Italian with the desperate, agonizing intensity of a scholar preparing for final exams, hyper-focusing specifically on highly specialized, technical engineering vocabulary.
Conducting a comprehensive, exhaustively deep dive into the core design philosophies underpinning the SF90. Meticulously and aggressively dissecting every single piece of telemetry data.
Whether it was during winter testing or the Australian Grand Prix, he actively participated in every single technical debrief. He continuously, relentlessly forced himself to synthesize theoretical engineering concepts with his visceral, physical experiences on the asphalt.
One step. Then another. And finally, they had arrived at today.
Starting from Spa last year, Kai had recognized that Binotto was highly likely the crucial breach point within the technical team. He was the absolute key to fundamentally shattering and restructuring the internal balance of power within the team. However, the entire process had been wildly volatile and unpredictable. They had navigated the brutal war between the management and technical factions. They had navigated the massive shock of Binotto's sudden, unexpected promotion to Team Principal. They had navigated the chaotic, turbulent opening of the new season. And finally, they had arrived here.
Binotto finally, 100% believed in Kai. Even though significant differences and disagreements still existed between them, regardless of everything else, they were now firmly united against the outside world.
This journey had not been easy. Crisis after crisis, hurdle after hurdle. Formulating a flawless, airtight strategy on paper was easy. But reality is rarely that simple. Even the most meticulous calculations cannot perfectly predict the complex, chaotic nature of the human heart. The unexpected curveballs thrown at them after the Australian Grand Prix had nearly derailed the entire master plan.
BUT!
Ultimately, bound together by identical ambitions and shared convictions, Binotto had successfully overcome every obstacle to cement his faith, proudly standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Kai.
Right now, the road ahead remained choked with dense thorns. Unpredictable variables plagued the plan. Kai hadn't managed to execute a smooth, gradual, peaceful evolution. He hadn't managed to infiltrate Maranello's systemic diseases like a gentle spring rain. Having opted for total, explosive detonation instead, this terrifying hurricane was going to rage for quite some time. However, after enduring this violent, earth-shattering storm of chaos, if they could actually manage to achieve their goals in a single, devastating stroke... the technical team could rapidly clear away their outdated dogmas and return to the correct path, thereby discovering the true, correct direction for the SF90's season-long upgrade cycle—
If that happened, then absolutely everything they had endured would be worth it.
This season, Mercedes-Benz's W10 was truly, terrifyingly dominant. It violently resurrected memories of the legendary F2002.
The F2002 was the F1 car fielded by Ferrari during the 2002 season. To this very day, it remains the absolute, undisputed, most dominant race car in the entire history of Formula 1.
That year, out of a seventeen-race season, Michael Schumacher secured eleven Grand Prix victories. Furthermore, in all seventeen races, without a single exception, he stood on the podium. With an absolute, suspension-destroying lack of suspense, he swept both the Drivers' and Constructors' World Championships.
Of course, declaring whether the W10 could truly rival the mythological F2002 was still premature. They needed several more races to properly validate that claim. But judging solely by the events in Melbourne and Bahrain, Mercedes-Benz's brand new machine had undeniably achieved a top-tier, flawlessly rounded state of absolute equilibrium.
Perhaps the W10 wasn't the absolute, undisputed pinnacle of "Single Lap Pace." But the terrifying reality was that the W10 could effortlessly sustain that "Single Lap Pace" continuously, stably, and relentlessly.
For every single team in the paddock, the monumental task of challenging the Mercedes-Benz dynasty was becoming increasingly severe and exponentially more difficult. Ferrari was naturally no exception. They absolutely did not have any time to waste. If they repeated the disastrous mistakes of last season, taking pointless detours and suffering unnecessary setbacks, it was highly probable that Ferrari wouldn't even be able to drag the championship suspense all the way to Yas Marina. The war could easily be declared over several races before the finale.
Time was of the essence. It was incredibly critical.
Looking at it from a different angle, if Ferrari could aggressively muscle their way onto the correct path as quickly as possible, they could apply early, suffocating pressure to Mercedes-Benz, forcing them violently out of their comfort zone. History had definitively proven that Wolff and Hamilton were normal human beings who were entirely capable of making catastrophic mistakes under pressure. If they could achieve that, then the situation could blossom with entirely new, infinite possibilities.
And all they had to do was relentlessly, continuously launch assaults against Mercedes-Benz. Over and over again. Again and again. Until they completely, irreversibly overturned the balance of power.
Suddenly, Kai bolted upright, sitting bolt straight as if his soul had violently slammed back into his body. Leclerc, sitting right next to him, nearly jumped out of his skin in shock. "What?! What happened?!"