He hoped Lin Yan could discover this.
Venarey's analysis was correct; Rossi's car had indeed encountered some issues with its setup at Turn 4.
This Turn 4 had a slight incline. It was possible that tire pressure was the culprit, causing the front suspension to bounce and wobble upon entry.
Despite Rossi's two attempts at correction, the issue remained difficult to fix. At this moment, Rossi was also searching for a new line to avoid the car's instability.
He didn't make a move at Turn 5, but at Turn 8, Rossi still wasn't letting Lin Yan off the hook.
"Another late brake overtake at Turn 8. Every time they reach Turn 8, Boss Luo seems determined not to let up on Lin Shen. Turn 1 and Turn 8, they're both fighting fiercely, hahaha."
The positions of the two drivers almost always changed at these two corners, and Hao Dong had grown accustomed to it.
Seizing the opportunity, Rossi's car shot out from Lin Yan's peripheral vision. With a turn, he nudged ahead of Lin Yan's car, and Lin Yan found himself relegated to second place once again.
With the position change, Rossi's car appeared directly in front of Lin Yan. What followed were the remaining nine corners, and Lin Yan made his move again.
His gaze locked onto Rossi's rear, his hands fluidly turning the steering wheel into the corner. At their level, knowing when to upshift or downshift was ingrained in their very being, requiring no conscious thought. Most of their focus was on when to attack.
With precise throttle and braking, through the subsequent nine high-difficulty corners, after a few simple exchanges of attack and defense, even though Lin Yan was fully prepared, he was ultimately dominated by his master.
"This kid, to achieve this much is already quite something. Impressive!"
A bearded foreigner below the stage exclaimed. He and Old Luo had also raced F1, and his technical skill compared to Lin Yan's was far inferior. He had been thoroughly thrashed.
No one understood the bearded foreigner's exclamation; no one paid him any mind.
As the cars exited the corner, Lin Yan's heart rate slowly began to decrease. As expected, using what his master had taught him to defeat his master was an extremely difficult feat.
Through the remaining nine corners, the gap between the two drivers widened slightly.
However, it wasn't by much, and many spectators could barely discern it with the naked eye.
In one lap, Rossi could only pull away from Lin Yan by 0.02 seconds. Such a small margin was imperceptible to the naked eye without instruments.
However, the audience could determine this based on the lap time data displayed on the large screen on the field.
"This... I think Lin Shen is... a bit slow."
Although the leading digits were the same, there were still some subtle differences in the trailing digits. Some spectators in the audience had already noticed.
"Huh? I don't see it. That's such a small difference, it's nothing. They're evenly matched right now. He'd have to be at least 0.1 seconds slower to be considered slow."
In a corner of the Chinese spectator stands, upon hearing his girlfriend say Lin Shen was slow, the boyfriend next to her, who was eating popcorn, paused. He put down his popcorn bucket and looked up to carefully examine the lap times of the two drivers in the upper right corner of the screen.
No, the leading digits were all the same, only the trailing digits showed a slight difference, all within milliseconds. It was possible it was just a machine error.
"Okay, husband, before I came, I never expected F1 to be this exciting. It's making my heart race. I just don't know who will be in the lead at the end."
The roar of the F1 engines was louder than...
Exiting Turn 9 and returning to the main straight, the scene replayed itself. Lin Yan overtook on the straight. This time, as he entered Turn 5, Lin Yan kept his attention focused on the rearview mirror.
After being overtaken, Rossi's car was closely following Lin Yan. From the rearview mirror, only the two side wheels of the car could be seen.
Lin Yan's eyes were incredibly sharp. After two laps, on this third lap, he truly spotted a slight anomaly.
As Lin Yan entered the corner, he seemed to see Rossi's right wheel wobble, or more precisely, bounce.
Due to the limited viewing angle, he hadn't seen it clearly, and Lin Yan was a bit uncertain. At high speed, that slight wobble could very well have been his imagination.
However, moments later, Lin Yan's suspicion was confirmed. If there were no issues, his master wouldn't have refrained from attacking without reason.
A wobble? A bouncing wheel? Normally, such a situation shouldn't occur. Lin Yan had absolute confidence in his master; the possibility of an error in this corner was almost zero.
This wobble was extremely subtle, making Lin Yan almost believe it was a figment of his imagination.
Except for professionals like Lin Yan and Venarey, it was almost impossible for others to notice this wobble.
Hao Dong, the hastily recruited commentator, also didn't notice it. However, Hao Dong had discovered something else at this moment.
His livestream was being flooded with comments!
Bots?
"Damn it, two guys riding smelly motorcycles playing F1, insulting our F1 circle."
"Exactly, with their lousy skills, they dare to play F1. It's a real insult to four-wheeled racing. Get back to your two-wheeled world."
"You two idiots upstairs, what's wrong with playing F1? I'm a seasoned F1 and MotoGP fan, and I think these two have no problem with their skills, and the race is very exciting."
"Exciting? This constant overtaking, you call this exciting?"
"Stop arguing, stop arguing. If you don't like watching, then scram. Why are you arguing here?"
"Whether I scram or not is none of your business."
...
The livestream, which had been harmonious moments ago, descended into chaos in the short time Hao Dong wasn't paying attention. The comments section erupted in an argument.
A group of people claiming to be F1 fans had entered and started a verbal assault with very aggressive language.
Moreover, Hao Dong also noticed that the growth in the number of viewers was somewhat abnormal.
The viewer count was increasing too rapidly, tens of thousands every few seconds. In just half a minute, over a hundred thousand new users had joined. Lin Yan had a huge following, but the race had already been underway for some time, and most people who were going to watch had already tuned in. Even if some hadn't, the numbers shouldn't be rising this fast, especially with the moderators actively banning people.
Sensing something was amiss, Hao Dong signaled his assistant to investigate.
Driven by these bots, some of the new viewers were starting to express dissatisfaction with the two drivers on the track.
Seasoned fans understood, but some newcomers to the sport were becoming displeased. It was almost the third lap, and their positions hadn't changed much; they had been repeating the same actions for two laps.