Page 38 of Knot So Lucky
"Check his fucking setup, nobody goes from last place to first in three laps without?—"
"Maybe you justsuck, ever think of that?"
The bickering fades to white noise as I navigate through a chicane that's already claimed two of the other racers. My car responds with perfect precision, the suspension settingsI configured allowing me to carry more speed through the compression than should be physically possible.
Because I know this physics engine.
Know its quirks and exploits, know where the grip threshold lies, and how to dance right along that edge without crossing it. Know that the optimal racing line isn't always the obvious one, and that sometimes you have to sacrifice positioning in one corner to set up the perfect exit for the next.
ApexPredator_23tries to dive-bomb me going into Turn 7—aggressive, desperate, the kind of move that screams "I'm losing and I don't know how to cope." I brake a fraction earlier than necessary, let him overshoot the apex, and watch as he runs wide into the runoff area while I thread through the inside line and accelerate away.
"FUCK!"
His frustrated roar through the voice chat is deeply satisfying.
I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to win.
The halftime break arrives with a notification that flashes across my screen—sixty seconds to stretch, adjust settings, mentally prepare for the final race. The decisive round that will determine the final rankings.
I'm currently sitting in first place overall.
GhostShift88at the top of the leaderboard, point totals displayed in cold, unforgiving numbers that tell the story of eleven consecutive victories.
My VR headset sits on the desk beside my monitor, forgotten until now.
On impulse, I reach for it.
The device is sleek and minimalist, all black composites and adjustable straps. It's been months since I've used it—virtual racing is more efficient on flat screens when you're just tryingto maintain skills—but something about this moment makes me want the full immersion.
Want to feel what it's actually like instead of just seeing it on a monitor.
I slip the headset on as the final race countdown begins, and suddenly the world transforms.
I'm no longer sitting naked in my gaming chair with cold coffee and the lingering scent of sex. I'm in a cockpit. The steering wheel is in my hands—not physically, but my brain fills in the gaps, making the keyboard controls feel like something more substantial. The track stretches out before me in three-dimensional glory, barriers and buildings rising on either side with startling realism.
The engine note rumbles through the headset's speakers, a deep visceral growl that I can almost feel in my chest even though I know it's just clever audio design.
This is different.
This isimmersivein a way that flat-screen racing never managed to be.
My breath catches as the countdown timer appears in my peripheral vision—thirty seconds until green light—and I realize I'm gripping my desk edge hard enough that my knuckles have gone white.
I was doing this just for shits and giggles. Just to fill in because Dante rage-quit, and the team needed a warm body with racing credentials.
Just because I could, because I had thirteen minutes to spare and nothing to lose.
But now, with the VR headset making everything feel viscerallyreal, I'm wondering something I've spent years trying not to think about.
What would it be like to drive in actual races like this?
Not virtual. Not simulated.Real.
The adrenaline that must flood your system when you're strapped into an actual car, engine screaming at ten thousand RPM behind your head. The chaos of fighting for position with other drivers at speeds that can kill you if you make a mistake. The high of being part of something so glorious that it could change everyone's lives on the team.
The exposure. The excitement. The money that could transform struggling teams into championship contenders overnight.
Not that I need the financial gain—the Lane fortune is measured in figures that most people can't conceptualize. But the other stuff? The recognition, the achievement, the pure unadulteratedproofthat you're the best at something?
