Chapter 331: 331: Reshuffling the Deck

Leclerc couldn't contain it anymore. The frustration, the gloom, the bitterness—it all burned away in an instant, leaving only unbridled passion charging through his chest.

There was no time to feel sorry for himself, no time to wallow in his pain and struggle. He straightened his back, clenched his fists, and joined the ranks of the team.

They didn't need self-pity; they needed to march forward with their heads held high and fight to the bitter end. His blood was burning, the continuous roar of cheers hitting his eardrums.

Leclerc believed he had matured. He believed he had the ability to win Grand Prix and even challenge for the World Championship. His unwavering belief in himself was the foundation of his confidence on the track.

But today—or more accurately, from Monaco to Austria, and now Germany—faltering repeatedly at critical moments when carrying heavy expectations had battered his psychological defenses time and again. Looking at the scarred but passionately driven Number 22 car on the track, which had turned the tide in two chaotic races at Silverstone and Hockenheim, he finally realized his own shortcoming.

Perhaps he possessed the ability, but he still lacked the audacity and courage.

Clenching his fists and straightening his back, Leclerc let out a roar toward Nappi. It was both a release and a self-encouragement. He needed to ignite his own fighting spirit.

Keep moving forward. Keep breaking through.

"Ah!" Nappi roared back, not backing down.

A collision of momentum, a surge of hot blood. The fighting spirit in Leclerc's eyes was fully ignited. Without hesitation, he roared again, "Ah!"

Back and forth. Then he turned to another team member, continuing to roar, continuing to shout. They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, moving forward together as a team.

The echoing shouts generated a wave of resilience within the Ferrari garage, a majestic power that eclipsed the other teams.

Hockenheim fell silent. They realized Ferrari could no longer be suppressed. Despite Mercedes' attempts all season to build an unchallengeable, insurmountable dominance, they had failed time and again. And now, they had completely lost control—

Ferrari's rise, Red Bull's resistance. The paddock was in chaos, and Mercedes had finally lost the initiative.

The air was surging. The fanatical joy in the paddock stood in stark contrast to the silence in the main grandstand, where unease and confusion pulled hearts downward.

"P2, Kai, P2!"

Borreipaire's voice trembled slightly; even his fingers and knees shook uncontrollably.

"An unbelievable race! A mind-boggling race! You've pulled off another unparalleled feat. God, we were almost losing faith, but you held on."

"Not just held on, but pushed it to the absolute limit."

"Thank you, Captain! Thank you for letting us fight alongside you. Thank you for delivering another unforgettable race. Thank you for fighting to the very end!"

"Keep fighting! Keep pushing! Keep pushing!"

"No matter what happens, we're in this together!"

In a rare moment, Borreipaire lost his composure. Only after the words tumbled out did he realize his eyes were slightly damp and his knuckles ached from gripping his fists so tightly.

This race... had truly been too difficult.

It was only now that the extreme tension was fully released.

Kai's voice came over the radio, "Pierre, bringing sexy back."

Borreipaire paused, then couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Beside him, Binotto, who was just about to speak, also smiled broadly.

Phew.

In the cockpit, Kai let out a long breath. After giving it his all and burning out completely, he felt a hearty sense of fulfillment. The uninhibited joy of emptying his energy reserves allowed his tense nerves to finally relax.

No regrets.

Perhaps with one or two more laps, the result might have been different. But looking at it another way, the entire race was about pushing forward amidst continuous chaos and bumps. Safety Cars and accidents were integral parts of the race, and they were also the key factors that allowed him to completely overturn the situation from a twentieth-place start.

So, there was no need for regrets. It was a spectacular race.

Diagonally ahead, he could see the Number 33 car, also completely spent, slowing down significantly. The similarly limping Kai actually slowly caught up.

And even passed him.

Kai gave a thumbs-up in the direction of the Number 33 car, acknowledging the performance. For Verstappen, this was also a brilliant race.

In the final three laps, Verstappen demonstrated remarkable growth and transformation. The gifted young genius was gradually realizing his potential.

Kai had a premonition that their on-track battles would become more frequent and intense in the future—

That was a good thing! Bring on the challenge!

Following Bottas, Verstappen had also shown a new side of himself. If Leclerc could keep pace as well, the battle among the top three teams would truly open up. Kai maintained confidence in his teammate, looking forward to the day when multiple contenders bloomed competitively.

At that moment, Verstappen was truly exhausted. He felt completely drained, empty, with barely any energy left to celebrate.

Catching a glimpse of red in his rearview mirror out of the corner of his eye, his on-track combat instincts flared instantly. His first subconscious reaction was to defend.

But then!

Verstappen saw the thumbs-up sticking out from the halo. He paused, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. He took another look and confirmed he wasn't mistaken. The red Number 22 car then sped away. Only then did Verstappen realize the race was over.

He had won.

It was incredibly thrilling, burning everything out, dancing on a tightrope in the final moments. But undeniably, it was a victory worth its weight in gold. The joy of securing another Grand Prix win after Austria surged up, filling his chest. His gaze followed the afterimage of the Number 22 car into the distance. Passion began to burn. Before he even realized it, a smile crept onto his face, and he finally relaxed completely.

Champion! Champion! Champion!

His heart pounded heavily against his chest, as if celebrating the victory, or perhaps calling out for the championship. The rumbling echoed in his mind.

Not just a Grand Prix winner, but a World Champion!

World Champion!

The echoing thuds in his chest grew clearer, hungering for the World Championship again and again.

Last season, Kai had achieved that very feat. Emerging from nowhere, he forcefully overtook the competition, surpassing the entire paddock to write an unreplicable miracle, cementing his place in the history books.

Now, Verstappen craved the exact same thing. Not next year, not in the future. Right here, right now. This very season. The impulse and hot blood took root wildly, growing into a towering tree with every breath, filling his entire chest.

He was ready.

"...Undoubtedly, Kai delivered a spectacular race. But at the same time, Verstappen withstood Kai's frantic late charge, securing the win in convincing fashion. Two victories in the past three Grands Prix. He surpasses Bottas as the driver with the third-most wins this season."

"So."

"Does this mean the landscape of the Drivers' World Championship has been completely reshuffled? Has Verstappen officially taken Bottas's place as a title contender?"

"More importantly, Kai's sudden and powerful rise has finally awakened Verstappen. The long-established genius seems to have undergone his own transformation. Together with Kai, they form a formidable force of the new generation, launching a full-scale assault on the thrones of Mercedes and Hamilton."

"Whatever happens next, one thing is certain: the paddock landscape is overturning and reshuffling. The thing we've anticipated most has finally arrived."

"Suspense, intense competition, multiple contenders—it has it all!"

Emotions surged, burning noisily in chests. Passion rushed through veins to the brain, destroying all reason.

And then, eruption.

A spectacular race with a spectacular ending!

Crofty's impassioned commentary swept across the venue like a tidal wave. The viewers watching the live broadcast at home could no longer control their boiling blood and burning passion.

Praise, sighs, marvels, unending.

And the truly bizarre events were yet to come, adding spice to this roller-coaster race and doubling the excitement.

Verstappen—Kai—

The two young geniuses crossed the finish line one after the other. All of Hockenheim sank into despair, extinguishing all noise in pain and frustration. They stared at the track in stunned silence. Among the top three teams, only Mercedes had fallen. The home curse had severely wounded the Silver Arrows' ambitions.

Then, over eight seconds later, Kvyat crossed the line—Gasp!

A Toro Rosso driver had actually made the podium. Not only did he beat his teammate Gasly, but he also beat Red Bull's Albon.

How did this happen? Amidst the chaos, the shock hit like a landslide, destroying reason and drawing involuntary gasps.

Then, another seven seconds later, Stroll crossed the line—Wow!

The crowd was in an uproar.

Racing Point! It was Racing Point!

Racing Point, a team surrounded by controversy all season, carrying high hopes due to Vettel's arrival but consistently failing to deliver. Now, at Hockenheim, with the home crowd entirely focused on Mercedes, this customer team had emerged from nowhere?

This... this, this, this—

And it wasn't the Racing Point driven by Vettel, but by Lance Stroll?

Reason crumbled bit by bit, finally turning to ash. People clutched their heads, unable to believe their eyes. Not only because the iron triangle of the top three teams had been broken for the first time this season, but also because the person breaking the balance was entirely unexpected. Perceptions were overturned, common sense destroyed, everything thrown into chaos.

The home crowd at Hockenheim was no exception, caught in the hurricane, dizzy and reeling. For a moment, they actually didn't have time to wallow in Mercedes' terrible luck. The overlapping layers of shock and impact awakened primal reactions, drawing uncontrollable gasps.

However, this still wasn't the end.

Wave after wave of surprises continued to pass the pit straight. The engine roars hit nerves repeatedly, leaving no time to breathe, leading to numbness, dullness, astonishment. Finally, all sound died in their throats as they fell silent again, standing frozen like puppets.

Sainz, fifth. McLaren's best performance of the season.

Albon, sixth. A shadow hiding beneath Red Bull's incredible victory. Although both Red Bulls finished and scored points, in a race full of opportunities, Albon regrettably failed to capitalize, still unable to achieve a season breakthrough.

Sixth place might be worth celebrating for other drivers, but it was far from enough for a top-three team. Especially with Kvyat and Stroll finishing ahead.

Grosjean seventh, Magnussen eighth. Haas firmly grasped the opportunity, bringing both cars home in the points as expected. From a team perspective, they were, alongside Red Bull, the biggest winners at Hockenheim. Especially considering the two cars collided during the race and nearly caused an internal rift, Haas was undoubtedly the team favored by Lady Luck amidst the chaos at Hockenheim.

When the two Haas cars crossed the finish line one after the other, the gasps from the main grandstand were uncontrollable and confused; no one understood what had happened. But then, despair set in again because of the next figure to cross the line. The bustling noise instantly died down, plunging into silence.

Hamilton, ninth.

In a race full of twists and turns, with his car completely losing control twice—one of which resulted in hitting the wall—Hamilton still managed to turn the tide and finish smoothly. Compared to Leclerc, Bottas, and Gasly, who retired under similar circumstances, the British driver once again showed the resilience of a champion.

Moreover, ninth place meant two points. In a cutthroat competition, this could be the deciding factor for the championship. It was absolutely worthy of praise.

However—

Starting from pole and leading for over a third of the race, briefly returning to the lead after facing numerous difficulties and scares, only to finish ninth. At the same time, witnessing two young, aggressive super-geniuses shine at Hockenheim, carrying the championship battle to the very last moment, igniting the flames of passion with youthful vigor. Kai had pulled eight seconds clear of Kvyat in just two laps. Seeing such a gap made the hobbling Hamilton look... small.

It wasn't just a disappointment; it could be called a disaster. If anyone was celebrating those two points right now, it would be pathetic.

All shock, surprise, and admiration vanished into nothingness the moment the white Silver Arrow Number 44 crossed the pit straight.

Then, the world fell utterly silent. Only Crofty's voice continued to burn passionately in the air.

"Perez! Tenth!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, Williams secures their first point of the 2019 season. In an incredibly chaotic race, Perez somehow held on to the end, breaking the curse and scoring a point for Williams. This already spectacular race just etched itself further into the history books."

"And that's not all!"

"Russell in eleventh, just one step away from the points. Williams delivers their best race of the season."

"At Hockenheim, Williams is finally not the team at the bottom of the paddock. Undeniably, this is a breakthrough. And the most disappointing team today is—"

"Alfa Romeo."

"Wow."

"In qualifying, Alfa Romeo beat both Ferraris for the first time since the 1985 South African Grand Prix, an unbelievable breakthrough that raised high hopes. At the start, Räikkönen even overtook Verstappen to move up to third, offering a glimpse of a podium finish."

"However!"

"In the ever-changing weather and track conditions, the Alfa Romeo pit wall repeatedly made poor judgments and decisions, never keeping up with the rhythm. Consequently, Räikkönen and Giovinazzi were constantly fighting on the wrong tires, powerless to turn the tide and continuously losing positions."

"Ultimately, Räikkönen finishes twelfth, and Giovinazzi thirteenth. The two Alfa Romeos finish at the bottom."

"While people discuss Mercedes' disappointing performance, Alfa Romeo is the true biggest loser at Hockenheim. Utterly disappointing."

"I cannot imagine a more dramatic race, not just in the 2019 season, but in the history of the sport. This is a premier event."

"This is F1. Anything is possible."

The dead silence in the Alfa Romeo garage stood in stark contrast to the frenzy in the Williams garage. Heaven and hell are separated by a thin line.

According to various rumors, the contract renewal negotiations between the FIA and Hockenheim had stalled. It was highly likely that the German Grand Prix would not appear on the 2020 calendar. Because of this, Hockenheim hosted a grand event this year with top-tier treatment, aiming to fulfill every fan's wish.

And now, it had not disappointed—

Social media was completely paralyzed. Discussions surrounding the race spread everywhere. Mercedes suffered their most painful defeat of the season at their Waterloo, while their customer teams, Racing Point and Williams, achieved season breakthroughs in different ways. Ferrari staged another miraculous comeback with unyielding resilience, yet their customer team, Alfa Romeo, fell into despair, a stark contrast to Haas's lucky escape.

Everything reached the peak of absurdity and madness the moment Kvyat joined Kai and Verstappen on the podium.

This was a scene probably no one could have predicted when the 2019 season began.

...

"Kai—"

"Kai!"

Amidst the bustling noise, a voice called out, halting Kai's steps.

Having just finished an interview, Kai was about to leave. He instinctively assumed it was another reporter, paused, and looked toward the voice.

Approaching him was none other than Verstappen.

Kai was slightly surprised.

Verstappen proactively stepped forward and bumped fists with Kai. "Great race." A concise greeting. The final stages of the race had been incredibly tense.

A smile appeared in Kai's eyes. "Still just a little bit short. I'll push harder next time."

"Relax, you won't even get the chance next time," Verstappen joked back.

Kai nodded calmly. "True, if you guys are always running behind."

Verstappen froze—

When it came to verbal sparring, he was definitely no match for Kai. There wasn't a second Kai in the entire paddock.

So, "Fuck," Verstappen swore with a straight face. But the next second, he broke character, unable to hold back a smile.

Kai bumped his fist with sincere enthusiasm. "Keep it up, Maxxie!"

The overly affectionate nickname was clearly intentional. Max didn't react immediately, standing stunned for a moment. Then he saw the mischievous glint in Kai's eyes. The clash of their momentum ended with both of them smiling.

The nearby reporters were dumbfounded, completely confused. They thought the two were about to throw down, ready to roll up their sleeves and trade punches.

And it was just this?

Kai had no time for the gossiping reporters. He turned and continued walking. He could see the chaos in the mixed zone—

Invisible swords filled the air. Perhaps because in Monaco, Kai had rolled up his sleeves and confronted Hamilton, ready for a real fight, the sharp edge the drivers usually suppressed in their blood was finally breaking free, leaking out little by little, uncontrollable.

Or rather, they refused to control it.

Gasly was confronting Albon over responsibility for their collision. Grosjean and Magnussen were locked in a tense, uncompromising standoff. Vettel made no secret of his dissatisfaction, complaining bitterly to the reporters. Horner was pulling Kvyat into a corner, muttering something.

Reporters surrounded Bottas three layers deep. Mercedes didn't seem to be offering Bottas enough support. The Finn stood alone against the raging storm, struggling to parry the German media's attempts to pin all the blame and responsibility for the race on him.

Inside and out, top to bottom, everyone looked like survivors of a disaster. The highly strung nerves finally relaxed, filling the mixed zone with noise.

Stroll was scratching his head. "I thought this race was never going to end. What the hell happened today."

The reporters in front of him burst into laughter. It wasn't just the drivers; the media felt the exact same way. No one knew what on earth had just happened in this race.

But where was Leclerc?

Kai had been trying to spot Leclerc. Since Monaco, Leclerc had shown a strong upward trajectory, coming within one step of victory in Austria. Today, he truly had the chance to control the race, but missed it again due to impatience.

It was regrettable, and also concerning whether it might become a psychological demon for him.

So far, Kai hadn't faced these trials, but he knew the nature of the beast. In competitive sports, psychological demons are a test for everyone, even top professionals. Once they take root, it takes an enormous amount of energy to shake them off, and success isn't guaranteed.

The 2019 season was indeed full of pressure and challenges for Leclerc. Kai sincerely hoped these trials and tribulations would become opportunities. When Leclerc overcame the difficulties, he would transform, shining as brightly on the track as Verstappen.

The more challenges, the better.

Besides, they were teammates.

However, after a lap around the mixed zone, Kai still hadn't seen Leclerc—

Interestingly, Kai also hadn't seen Hamilton.

Slightly unusual.

Hamilton's public image in front of the media was always perfect. Unlike troublemakers like Alonso or Verstappen, he could always control his emotions. Regardless of the race outcome, Hamilton always fulfilled his interview obligations and presented a professional face to the cameras.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn't just Kai; the reporters noticed it too. The people currently besieging Bottas had countless questions meant for Hamilton.

Wait, is that—

"Charles!"

Kai caught sight of a figure in a red racing suit, the Number 16 on the back standing out. Delighted, he called out.

The next second, the sound stopped in his throat, abruptly cut off. Before it could carry, it was swallowed by the surrounding noise.

A petite blonde girl stepped out from a waiting corner, opened her arms, and gave Leclerc a huge hug.

A tight embrace!

It wasn't a polite social hug, nor a friendly familial one. Leclerc hung onto the blonde girl like a large accessory. Exhausted and drained of energy, he buried his face in her shoulder, hugging her passionately with all his might.

The two stood in a blind spot of the mixed zone, using the shadows to hide. All the noise and turbulence seemed temporarily blocked out. In a crowded, chaotic world, they had each other, slipping into an independent world of their own, enjoying their own space.

People came and went, in full view of the public, but they quietly hid in the shadows, stealing a moment to breathe.

"Oh," Kai's mouth slowly formed an O shape.

When? What happened?

They lived under the same roof and worked in the same team. They spent almost all their daily lives together, yet he hadn't noticed a thing. This made Kai wonder if he was too uncaring about his teammate, or if his intuition was just terrible. How had he missed every clue?

This wasn't normal.

Amidst the brief shock and astonishment, a thought crossed Kai's mind, a look of realization dawning in his eyes. There hadn't been absolutely zero clues—

Last time in Monaco... could it be?

It was a wild guess without evidence, but Kai had a gut feeling he was right. The night after the Monaco race, Leclerc hadn't joined their party and returned very late. When he saw Kai and Pascal waiting in the living room, his expression had been strange.

No wonder! After Monaco, Leclerc not only didn't fall into a slump but rebounded strongly, reaching the first highlight of his career.

No wonder! During their downtime, Leclerc always took his phone to the bathroom and stayed in there for noticeably long periods, enough to cause worry.

Now it seemed Kai didn't need to worry about his teammate; he already had a guardian.

"Kai!"

A call came from behind. Kai naturally responded and looked over, taking a step away, quietly leaving the blind spot, actively drawing focus and attention to himself. Although Leclerc might not need his help, he could still buy the lovebirds a moment of peace.

Evidently, the most dangerous place is the safest place. In a paddock teeming with reporters and packed with broadcast and security cameras, no one had yet noticed the scene playing out in the empty corner.

Kai could help cover for them, delaying the media's discovery of the truth for as long as possible.

Standing in front of him was Norris.

The usually jovial Norris still had a smile on his face, but it clearly carried a hint of bitterness and disappointment.

His retirement contrasted sharply with Sainz's breakthrough, making the atmosphere within McLaren slightly delicate.

No wonder people always said that in the paddock, your first opponent is your own teammate.

Seeing the somewhat dejected Norris, Kai joked, "Oh, poor Lando, his confidence has been battered to pieces."

The tease immediately perked Norris up. He silently raised his middle finger.

Kai shook his head gently with a serious expression. "You should be attacking Max instead. Fuck Max."

The smile in Norris's eyes finally regained its sparkle. "Fuck Max."

Verstappen: Achoo!

Achoo. A sneeze.

Followed by a second and a third. Verstappen sneezed consecutively, unable to stop.

Seeing this, Kai and Norris burst into laughter, leaning forward and backward, as if remotely controlling a puppet named Verstappen.

Verstappen noticed the commotion and squinted at them. His confused expression only made Kai and Norris laugh harder, unable to stop.

Verstappen looked a bit helpless. He sighed softly, spread his hands, and turned back to the reporters. "It was a crazy race. Honestly, I don't even know how I won it."

That bewildered expression later went viral, becoming a famous meme on social media.

This time, Verstappen wasn't lying. He was telling the absolute truth. He really didn't know what happened. And social media didn't launch an attack on him like usual—

Clearly, the netizens didn't know what was going on either. Despite watching the entire race with their own eyes, they were still lost in the fog. No one knew exactly what had happened. They were just as bewildered as Verstappen. Verstappen's meme was their most direct and vivid reaction to the race.

If cursing weren't frowned upon, they'd probably be imitating Verstappen with a few expletives right now, making it even more colorful and vivid.

From Silverstone to Hockenheim, two consecutive races delivered top-tier, brilliant battles. Formula 1 had seemingly turned into Mario Kart. It seems daring to imagine is necessary; what if the game becomes reality?

Netizens joked: The only person who understood the whole race is probably Kai.

Haha—hahaha—

Kai and Norris gave no face, laughing uproariously.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kai saw Horner looking serious, scolding Kvyat in the corner. Perfect. The reporters in the mixed zone had been desperately searching for Leclerc and Hamilton. If these sharks didn't find new prey, they wouldn't give up easily.

The last thing Leclerc needed right now was the media's gossipy gaze focused on his private life. The accumulating pressure was already maxing out; this would just give his haters another reason and excuse to attack him.

Thinking of this, Kai called out loudly, "Daniil! Does Christian need you for something?"

The air stalled.

Horner glared angrily at Kai—

He was the Red Bull Team Principal; Kvyat was a Toro Rosso driver. Even if he was dissatisfied with Kvyat, he should have relayed the message through the Toro Rosso Team Principal. But today was truly frustrating. His dissatisfaction with Kvyat and Marko had erupted, and he hadn't controlled himself. He had crossed a line.

Because Horner knew he had crossed a line, he was keeping a low profile.

But Kai had exposed him in front of everyone. Horner lost a bit of face, instantly feeling the aggressiveness radiating from Kai.

Kvyat looked a bit lost. He still hadn't adapted to Kai's joking style and had no idea how to respond. He sneaked a peek at Horner—

He was trying very hard not to laugh.

Just then, a boisterous voice rang out nearby, remarkably bright.

"Me?"

"I'm right here! Christian!"

That familiar voice. You didn't even need to look to picture those big white teeth. Ricciardo's smile must be fully blooming right now.

After a pause, the room erupted in laughter.

The relief of surviving a disaster. The highly strung nerves relaxed completely. The mixed zone was lively. It wasn't just the drivers; the reporters also looked like they had narrowly escaped disaster, their minds a jumbled mess. But now, reinvigorated by the banter between Kai and Ricciardo, the reporters immediately pointed their cameras at Kvyat and Horner.

Amidst the noise of various focuses and topics, they had actually missed this scene. Now they were rapidly pressing their shutters, recording the precious moment.

Obviously, this dizzying German Grand Prix full of talking points had even more insider stories worth uncovering in the paddock outside the live broadcast. This year's Hockenheim was a genuine treasure trove—

Red Bull, surging strongly, taking victories in Austria and Germany. Such performance had already surpassed the 2018 season, and they hadn't even reached the summer break yet. There was still plenty of time left in the season; anything was possible.

However, as the saying goes, higher expectations mean stricter demands. If Red Bull wanted to surpass Ferrari and truly challenge Mercedes' position, they had to stay sharp.

Verstappen topping the podium twice in the past three races was cause for celebration. Marko's all-in gamble was finally paying off. But at the same time, Albon's performance still hadn't met expectations. Even though the Shanghai roadshow gave Red Bull Thailand more confidence, that confidence couldn't last long. Worse still, Gasly and Kvyat's performances were also unsatisfactory. Even if they replaced Albon, there were no better candidates.

Horner's actions offered a glimpse of the bigger picture. While they were trying to challenge Mercedes and Ferrari, the factional struggle between Horner and Marko was also heating up. Horner was doing his best to stop Marko, whose influence was growing thanks to Verstappen's excellent performance. So he seized on Kvyat's shortcoming to launch an attack. If Kvyat hadn't failed to stop Kai, Verstappen wouldn't have been in jeopardy.

Small clues reveal the larger picture—

The internal atmosphere at Red Bull was probably not as simple as it seemed. While working together to improve, an atmosphere of mutual vigilance and restraint was also intensifying.

In competitive sports, there is nothing a victory cannot solve. If one isn't enough, then two or three, until you win the championship. Any contradictions or problems will be easily resolved. But in the F1 world, where interests reign supreme, the situation is more complex. Verstappen won, but the undercurrents within Red Bull grew stronger.

Moreover!

Currently, Red Bull still needed to take risks and gamble. After Austria, their performance in Britain was disappointing. Although they won in Germany, in this full-scale brawl, the initiative was never in Red Bull's hands; the final result owed a bit to luck.

In truth, Red Bull was not as glorious as it appeared on the surface. Or more accurately, if they wanted to maintain that glory and withstand the pressure from both Red Bull Austria and Red Bull Thailand, they might need to stay tense.

The pressure hadn't eased; it was still climbing.

If one victory couldn't temporarily solve Red Bull's complex situation, then Mercedes was facing its biggest crisis of the season.

Chaos!

It wasn't just about losing the championship or the podium. The worst part was the complete disarray.

The media focusing on Red Bull was ultimately in the minority. Mercedes undoubtedly dominated the headlines of all major news outlets, sweeping across the board.

Clearly, Wolff was dissatisfied with the Hockenheim results.

In any other Grand Prix of the year, this would be a terrible result, one to be quickly forgotten and wiped from memory.

But the problem was, they couldn't ignore it. Because this was Hockenheim, Mercedes' home turf.

Before the race, Mercedes welcomed the German Grand Prix weekend in the grandest, most solemn manner. With a flamboyant and confident posture, they sought to defend their pride. Even after suffering setbacks in two consecutive Grands Prix, they remained confident and marched forward proudly. Those rivals in the paddock couldn't truly harm the Silver Arrows.

They looked down on the paddock with disdain and contempt, displaying a domineering attitude of inevitable victory.

Never mind the competitors; even the media, fans, and casual observers couldn't stomach it. Such an arrogant and insufferably haughty posture was truly repulsive, once again reminding motorsport enthusiasts through their actions—

Why the number of fans who dislike Mercedes had only increased in recent seasons.

In the end, Mercedes stumbled. And it wasn't an ordinary stumble; it was a massive, humiliating tumble. The worst, most shameful, most disastrous Grand Prix of the season. So much so that their elaborate retro outfits turned into a joke, making them look like circus clowns.

The entire paddock could no longer control its urge to kick them while they were down, adding insult to injury. They collectively entered a mode of mass mockery. The teams and fans had never been so united.

The facts proved once again—

Sure enough, paddock unity still relies on Mercedes, as always.