Many of the abilities in the system shop overlapped, some being slight variations or subcategories of others, and their prices reflected that. After sorting through hundreds of options, I finally selected the ones I knew I would need right from the start.
But there was a problem.
Their combined cost exceeded the 15,000 SP I had.
[Simulation]
Category: Single Purchase
SP Cost: 10,000
Description: An immersive world where the user can practice, experiment, and refine their abilities without any risk to their real self.
Key Features: Allows the user to modify and change scenarios using SP.Enhances Mentor (if purchased), unlocking its full potential.Enables the registration of up to two vehicles via physical contact, with each registration costing 100 SP.
Limitations: Can be used for a maximum of 4 hours per day.
Why this? Because no matter how talented I became, the FIA's restrictions on practice time would always be a wall I'd hit. Real-world teams had limited hours of track time. I needed more, a sanctuary to push myself past the limits. A place to crash, burn, rebuild, and learn without consequence.
This would be my private circuit. My personal Nürburgring. Where I could run hundreds of laps.
But raw repetition wouldn't be enough. I needed a teacher who could dissect my flaws and help me evolve, a coach who would break down my weaknesses before they broke me.
[Mentor]
Category: Single Purchase
SP Cost: 10,000
Description: A personal coach dedicated to guiding the user toward self-improvement through structured missions and continuous feedback.
Key Features: Creates missions tailored to personal growth. Provides constant guidance and feedback. Grants SP-earning missions.
Limitations: Requires Simulation for full effectiveness—without it, mission variety will be limited.
Together, Mentor and Simulation would form my perfect training loop. But training isn't just about driving, it's about mind and body too. So next, I picked a pair of synergistic abilties:
[Sponge Brain]
Category: Upgradable
Level: Good
SP Cost: 1300
Description: Enhances the interpretation and absorption of information
[Sponge Body]
Category: Upgradable
Level: Good
SP Cost: 1300
Description: Optimizes the body's efficiency, accelerating recovery, enhancing physical training results, and improving overall coordination.
If I was going to train like a machine, I needed the brain of a scholar and the body of an athlete. Sponge Brain would make every lesson stick. Sponge Body would let me push myself further, faster, and bounce back by morning.
But learning and endurance alone weren't enough. Some races could be won or lost in fractions of a second, so I also added:
[Catlex]
Category: Upgradable
Level: Good
SP Cost: 900
Description: Sharpening reflexes and accelerating decision-making speed
And finally, I also added a wild card. A bit of chaos... but the good kind.
[Zone]
Category: Single Purchase
Level: Good
SP Cost: 1,000
Description: Raises all abilities by one tier for a random period of time.
Activation requirement: Random.
Although Zone had a random activation condition, what it offered was too good to pass up. When it triggered, it would be as if every ability I owned had been upgraded all at once. That kind of spike could win races—or save me from losing one.
But while going through the shop, something odd stood out: there were no abilities related to mentality. Nothing about grit, mental endurance, or pressure handling. I searched again and again, but the result was the same. It made me curious… but there was no time to dwell on it. I was facing a bigger problem.
A dilemma.
Two of the most important abilities in the system, Simulation and Mentor, were both essential. One was half useless without the other, and yet their combined cost was beyond my current SP balance.
I hesitated, then asked what felt like a stupid question: "Is there a way to get more SP?"
I wasn't expecting an answer, but I got one.
[The user may downgrade their innate ability from Limit Break to Ultimate in exchange for 10,000 additional SP.]
I blinked, stunned.
"Wait… I have an innate ability? Since when?"
The system didn't respond verbally. Instead, it displayed the answer:
[Invictus]
Category: Innate
Level: Limit Break
Description: Born from past suffering, Invictus grants the driver extreme mental endurance against all forms of pressure while heightening physical sensitivity.
"Oh my god," I muttered. "Limit Break? Was my suffering really that deep?"
The system didn't assign that level casually. It meant my past was intense enough to shape something... extraordinary.
But this put me in a real dilemma.
Should I downgrade Invictus, an ability at the almost mythical Limit Break tier, and gain something monumental in return? Or should I hold onto that power and settle for purchasing just one of the core abilities, hoping to gather the rest of the SP later?
I weighed both sides, my thoughts circling like cars in a wet qualifying session.
Eventually, clarity hit me.
At this stage, Invictus being at Limit Break wouldn't make much of a difference. Even at Ultimate, it would be near-perfect. And if I was planning to gather SP anyway, the time it would take to re-upgrade Invictus would likely match the time it took to buy whichever ability I'd otherwise delay.
The better choice, the smarter choice, was to act now.
"System," I said quietly, bracing myself, "downgrade Invictus."
A dull ache tugged at my chest, as if I'd just handed back something sacred. Losing a Limit Break ability wasn't easy… but the decision had been made.
[INVICTUS has been downgraded (Limit Break → Ultimate).]
[You have gained 10,000 SP.]
I wasted no time. With the full 25,000 SP now available, I confirmed the purchases of every ability I had carefully chosen. One by one, the transactions were completed. When the dust settled, I was left with 500 SP.
There were still a few niche options, like something focused on slow-corner entry optimization, but I resisted the urge. Better to hold onto the remainder until I identified a specific gap or weakness in need of solving. No use plugging a hole that hadn't even appeared yet.
The moment the final confirmation clicked, the screen blinked out, returning me to the void.
But the silence didn't last long.
Just like the moment I died, I felt consciousness slipping again, but this time, I wasn't sinking into death.
This time… I was waking up to life.
...….
Türkiye, Istanbul, Fatih, Gureba Hospital.
Inside a dimly lit labor room, a mother lay exhausted, her face drenched in sweat from the grueling hours of labor she had endured. Despite the pain, her gaze was tender as she cradled her newborn son, her heart swelling with a love that only a mother could understand. She stared at him in quiet awe as he slept soundly, his tiny chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm, the crying that had once filled the room now replaced by serenity.
"Fatih," she whispered softly, her voice barely audible in the stillness, "Fatih Yıldırım, that's your name." She gently traced her finger along the curve of his small nose, her eyes never leaving his face. For a moment, she could forget the pain, the fear, and the loneliness. In this instant, it was just her and him, a new beginning.
"Give him to me, you need to rest." A voice, warm and authoritative, broke the moment. It was a woman in her fifties, her hands gently wiping the sweat from the new mother's forehead as she leaned in to take the child.
"I want to see his face a bit longer," the new mother replied, her voice tinged with a bittersweet smile. "He reminds me of his father." Her smile faltered as she spoke of the man she had loved, her husband. The sadness lingered for a moment, but it quickly dissolved as she gazed once more at her son, her joy returning.
For a few moments, she held her child in her arms, savoring the precious time, before finally relenting and handing him to her own mother.
"Our conqueror is sleeping so peacefully," the older woman said, her voice a mixture of pride and affection as she cradled the baby. She carefully adjusted him in her arms, not daring to mention his father. She didn't want to stir the painful memories of the man who had passed away too soon, just four months before the birth of his son.
The young mother had suffered terribly from the grief of losing her husband. The depression nearly took everything from her, even the child she now held in her arms. Yet, with her mother's unwavering support, she had found the strength to carry on. They both knew that this child, Fatih, was a living piece of the man they had lost, and a symbol of hope for their future.
"Which language is this?" Fatih wondered to himself.
Although everyone in the room believed he was asleep, he had simply shut his eyes the moment he became aware of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that he was crying, uncontrollably, as if on instinct. Through blurry, unfocused vision, he caught a glimpse of a woman's face, soft, tired, and full of love. His mother, he realized.
But the sounds around him, the words being spoken... they were unfamiliar.
He tried to piece it together, reaching into the memories that had been reborn with him. Yet despite his efforts, he couldn't identify the language. The headache that followed made it clear he was pushing too hard, too soon.
Frustrated but realistic, he decided not to waste energy. There would be time for all of that later.
For now, rest was the only thing he needed.