F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

The water on the track had been completely dried by the high-speed run of the race cars, and a whitish racing line was clearly visible.

"Lin Feng is still relentlessly pursuing! He's overtaken Hamilton! He's overtaken Alonso!"

In the Sky Sports commentary booth, David Croft's voice grew increasingly louder, "My God! Who would have thought that a driver who experienced a disastrous 12.8-second pit stop during the safety car and dropped to the back of the pack would now slice through the midfield like it's nothing!"

In the picture, the dark blue No. 28 Williams race car seems to have broken some kind of seal.

Lin Feng's driving style has completely changed.

If he was a shrewd bus driver in Monaco, he is now a complete daredevil. Every time he brakes, he pushes the tires to the point of locking up, and every time he exits a corner, the rear of the bus slides dangerously. But he always manages to save the bus from the brink of losing control with miraculous reaction speed.

He had only one thought in his mind: rush onto the podium and save his hair and eyebrows!

At the same time, thousands of kilometers away in California, USA, at Stanford University.

It is 11:00 AM Pacific Time.

In a lecture hall that can accommodate hundreds of people, an elderly professor with gray hair is lecturing eloquently on "Macroeconomics" on the podium.

In the third-to-last row of the classroom, by the window, Gu Ailing was wearing black-rimmed glasses. Although she was holding a pen, her gaze was not on the notebook in front of her at all.

A half-closed laptop stood in front of her, its screen brightness turned down to the lowest setting. The computer was playing a live broadcast of the Formula 1 Canadian Grand Prix.

Chloe, her classmate sitting next to her, leaned over and nudged her lightly with her elbow, exclaiming in a low voice, "My God, Eileen! Is your boyfriend crazy? When he was cornering along the wall just now, I felt like the tires of that car were about to spark!"

"He's always been a madman." Gu Ailing bit her lower lip tightly, her heart pounding.

When she saw that nightmare twelve-second-long pit stop at the Williams pit lane, she was so angry that she almost slammed her fist on the table and stood up in class.

Then, Lin Feng's extremely vulgar swearing over the radio during the live broadcast made her cover her mouth and barely manage to hold back her laughter.

But now she can't laugh anymore.

The race car on the screen was driving too fast. Every time Gu Ailing saw Lin Feng almost hugging the champion wall as he sped past the last deceleration corner, she felt her breath catch for a second.

"He's fifth right now, behind McLaren." Even though Chloe doesn't know much about racing, she could sense the tension on the screen. "Can he catch up?"

"Yes." Gu Ailing gripped the pen tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white. "If he wants to win, no one can stop him."

On the track, the race has reached lap 65, with only 5 laps left until the end!

Red Bull's Verstappen is far ahead, firmly in the lead, while McLaren's Norris is in second place.

The battle for third place has become extremely fierce.

Russell was in third place, and behind him was Lin Feng, who had just squeezed Piastri behind him with a late inside brake at the hairpin bend.

"Paul, tell me the gap between you and George!" Lin Feng gasped for breath inside his helmet, sweat stinging his eyes, but he didn't even have time to blink.

"He's 2.1 seconds ahead of you, Lin. Your lap time is 0.6 seconds faster than his, but your tires are already at their limit; pushing any further will cause them to degrade!"

"Paul, give me maximum power! Forget about those damn tires!" Lin Feng roared.

"Lin, you have to operate the steering wheel yourself!" Paul yelled over the radio, "But the engine load..."

"Tell me which knob to turn! It's on me if it breaks!"

On the control wall in the maintenance area, James gritted his teeth and ordered into the microphone, "Tell him! Make him release all the battery reserves!"

Paul took a deep breath and quickly gave the order: "Roger that. Lin, turn the knob on the right side of the steering wheel to 'Strat 2' and shift the SOC to 1st gear!"

Lin Feng's thumb flew across the steering wheel: "Received, adjusted!"

Lap 68!

Lin Feng officially entered Russell's one-second DRS attack zone!

Mercedes' radio was in an uproar.

"George, Lin Feng is behind you. The difference is 0.8 seconds, he has DRS."

Russell glanced in the rearview mirror; the dark blue race car looked like a hungry wolf with gleaming green eyes, biting down hard on his tail wing.

"Holy crap, where did he come from?! Didn't he fall to the back of the pack after a mishap during his stop?!" Russell let out an incredulous wail from inside his helmet.

"Defense, George, defend the paint."

Lap 69!

Second to last lap!

On the long straight at the end of the track, Lin Feng pressed the DRS button without hesitation.

The Williams race car's rear wing opened, and with the engine running at its highest setting, the car hurtled towards Russell like a cannonball.

Russell, with his experience, decisively swerved the car towards the inside, effectively blocking Lin Feng's overtaking route.

The two cars, one after the other, hurtled toward the dangerous Champion Wall deceleration bend at speeds exceeding 330 kilometers per hour.

Lin Feng was forced to the outside of the line and had no choice but to slam on the brakes. The two race cars crossed the finish line head-to-head, entering the final lap of the decisive battle!

"The last lap! Russell held off the first wave of attacks! But he's under immense pressure now!" Brendel shouted. "But Lin Feng's offensive is too fierce!"

In the lecture hall, Gu Ailing was completely oblivious to what the professor was saying. She raised her laptop screen slightly, and several classmates around her were drawn to the tense scene on the screen, gathering around and holding their breath to watch the chase.

"Surpass him! Surpass him!" Gu Ailing chanted frantically in her mind.

The last lap, hairpin bend number ten!

This is the last slow corner before the main straight. To prevent Lin Feng from turning around, Russell once again chose a conservative defensive line, keeping the car firmly in the apex of the corner.

However, Lin Feng had no intention of making a move here. He deliberately took a very wide outer line, giving up the speed to enter the corner, but in return, he had a straighter exit line that allowed him to step on the accelerator earlier.

The two cars drove out of the hairpin bend and rushed towards the super long straight that would determine the outcome!

Russell frantically maneuvered ahead, trying to break Lin Feng's trail. Lin Feng, on the other hand, followed steadily behind, like a patient hunter waiting for the final, fatal blow.

DRS inspection point passed!

drop!

Lin Feng's tail fins opened again!

"Russell is playing defense like crazy! He's positioned his car right in the middle of the track! Lin Feng has pulled back! He's chosen the outside!" Croft's commentary was completely off-key.

Ahead lies the famous series of deceleration turns, number 13 and 14, and waiting for them at the exit of the turns is the infamous "Champion Wall"!

Russell had the advantage on the inside, and he eased off the throttle slightly before entering the corner to ensure the car could safely pass through the dangerous area.

But Lin Feng did not accept the oil.

The skill "Dancer on the Edge of the Champion Wall" is activated!

Despite being at a disadvantage on the outside, Lin Feng forcefully threw himself into the corner at a speed 10 kilometers per hour higher than Russell! The left tire of the race car slammed heavily onto the first red and white kerb, causing the entire car to bounce violently!

"He's too fast! He can't turn at that speed, he's going to crash into the wall!" Brendel exclaimed.

Before everyone's eyes, the dark blue race car bounced and landed, then slid almost out of control toward the outer concrete wall.

Gu Ailing covered her eyes, unable to bear watching what was about to happen.

Russell, watching this scene from inside the paint, was already convinced that Lin Feng was finished.

But a miracle happened.

Just a fraction of a second before the race car's right rear wheel was about to smash into the wall that read "Welcome to Quebec," Lin Feng's wrist executed a counter-attack with superhuman precision.

"Whoosh—"

A faint scraping sound.

The right rear tire of the Williams race car had rubbed a solid black mark on that wall.

No crash! No slowdown!

Using this extreme wall-hugging slide, Lin Feng, with a terrifying exit speed a full fifteen kilometers per hour higher than Russell's, like a real shooting star, forcefully devoured Russell from the outside the starting straight the instant he entered the starting straight!

"Holy shit! He brushed against the champion wall! But he didn't crash! He did a death dance right against the edge of the champion wall!"

Croft went completely wild, jumping up and down in the commentary booth. "Lin Feng overtook Russell! At the last corner of the last lap! This is absolutely the craziest, greatest overtake of the year!"

"Oh my god!" Several students watching the screen in the Stanford lecture hall couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

The old professor, who was writing on the blackboard, stopped writing, frowned, and turned around: "What happened next?"

Gu Ailing quickly slammed the laptop screen shut, covered her flushed cheeks with her hands, and felt her heart pounding in her throat. She buried her head in her desk, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It's alright, Professor. We just saw a really interesting economic curve." Chloe cleverly smoothed things over from the side, while secretly giving Gu Ailing a thumbs-up under the table.

On the track, black and white checkered flags waved.

Verstappen crossed the finish line first, followed closely by Norris.

A few seconds later, the No. 28 Williams race car, covered in scratches, rain, and gunpowder, crossed the finish line steadily amidst a deafening roar of gasps!

P3!

Lin Feng delivered an incredible, decisive victory on the final lap!

Russell, who was less than half a car length behind, could only watch helplessly as the taillights of the car in front of him rolled away, and painfully slapped the steering wheel.

"F**k! Guys, sorry, I really tried my best." Russell sighed helplessly over the radio. "I don't know why he can come out of corners so fast! I just can't defend him."

Mercedes engineers comforted him in the TR (presumably a chat window): "It's okay, George, you did a great job, P4 is a good result too."

At this moment, the broadcast camera cut to the Mercedes team's pit garage.

Logically, if a team leader loses a precious podium finish to their own driver on the last lap, they should be furious, or at least smash their headphones in frustration.

The problem is that Toto in the footage doesn't look alive at all.

The bigwig stood behind the control wall, his hands in his pockets. He watched Lin Feng cross the finish line on the big screen, his eyes filled with undisguised fervor and admiration.

It's the kind of excitement you feel when you see a priceless treasure finally reveal its full brilliance.

Toto even forgot to hide his emotions. He turned his head to look at Gwen Lagru, the youth training director and assistant standing beside him.

Toto's lips curled into an extremely smug, even boastful, smile as he raised an eyebrow at his assistant. His eyes clearly said, "See? This is the guy I chose. He dares to run right up to the champion's wall."

This scene lasted only two seconds, but it was broadcast live globally frame by frame.

Brendel, watching from the commentary booth, immediately grasped the deeper meaning behind this scene.

"Ladies and gentlemen, look at Toto Wolff's expression! His team lost the podium, but instead of being angry, he's smiling like a businessman who just closed a big deal! It seems that the rumors on Wednesday were more than just a coincidence! The next era of Mercedes may have already been decided in this downpour in Montreal!"

At this moment, Lin Feng had no idea that his decisive victory had made a certain team owner extremely happy.

He slowly drove the race car into the return lap.

"Aaaaaaah! Lin! You did it! P3! P3! You're a miracle!"

The entire Williams P room erupted in celebration, and James Walls excitedly hugged every staff member who came over.

"receive."

Lin Feng exhaled a breath of stale air and slumped into the cockpit. The intense concentration and physical exhaustion left him without even the strength to raise his hand and greet the audience.

He laboriously raised his heavy right hand and, through his fireproof gloves and helmet, gently touched the area around his eyebrows.

"System notification: Main quest [Conquer Montreal] has been completed. Penalty lifted."

Lin Feng's tense nerves finally relaxed completely, and now all he wanted to do was cry.

"Fuck the champion wall! My hair and eyebrows are finally saved!"