Chapter Sixty-Six: The First to Take the Lead

After the official ERC introduction of all the teams, the moment everyone was waiting for had finally arrived—the grand opening race. Each of the eight major manufacturers and the Divine Team had entered two crews into the competition, and now all eyes were on the starting order, which had yet to be announced.

It is worth mentioning that the ERC changes its starting regulations every year, making this a hotly debated and highly anticipated aspect before every race. Yet, in the end, the starting rules of any motorsport boil down to two types: sequential and reverse order.

Take, for instance, the GTCC touring car championship, where grid positions are determined by qualifying; the driver who secures pole position starts first. There is little controversy here—it’s simply first come, first served, as it has always been. In a sense, this too can be considered a form of sequential starting.

But ERC is different. In recent years, the organizers have set starting orders based on drivers’ points, but sometimes it’s sequential, other times reversed. This often leaves spectators utterly confused.

Reverse order means doing things the other way around: the better the result, the further back a crew starts. This is much like sports such as diving or weightlifting, where the top competitors always take the final slots.

But why do the rules keep changing? The reason lies in the fundamental difference between ERC’s track formats and those of closed-circuit racing.

As everyone knows, circuit races are always held on asphalt tracks, while ERC, thanks to the flexibility in choosing venues, races on a variety of surfaces, not just asphalt but also gravel, ice, and snow. In extreme weather, muddy roads might even come into play.

Take this Swiss round, for example, which is run mainly on gravel. Not a single crew is eager to start near the front.

Gravel varies in size and is scattered all over, greatly affecting tire grip—which is almost always the most critical factor in motorsport.

Thus, the first cars to set off must face the greatest number of loose stones. As the race progresses, the cars ahead sweep away much of the debris, improving grip for those behind. This means the later a crew starts, the greater their advantage.

So the answer seems simple: the ERC should always have the top teams start last, right? After all, their strength speaks for itself.

Not so. Sometimes, to prevent the gap between teams from growing too wide, the ERC introduces starting rules that are, in fact, unfair to those with higher points.

On the one hand, this increases the competitiveness of the race; on the other, it enhances the spectacle for fans—a win-win situation.

During this wait, every member of the Divine Team silently prayed.

“Sequential order!”

“Please, sequential order!”

A race is a race, and while Mo Shu possessed remarkable talent, who wouldn’t want to enjoy every possible advantage?

After a long wait, the organizing committee finally released the starting order—and the Divine Team was right at the top, first to set off.

“Sigh… It seems we can’t escape the fate of being the ‘sweepers’,” many team members lamented.

“Sweepers” is the nickname ERC fans have given to the crews who start at the front. The meaning is obvious: the cars in front clear the obstacles, making things easier for those behind. In a way, it’s a pretty thankless task.

Yet for this opening race, Mo Shu didn’t mind being first. In his heart, being the first to start in the season opener was the truest opening act of all. Wasn’t it this very moment that fans and media around the world looked forward to each year?

For Mo Shu, it was a golden opportunity to boost his reputation—provided, of course, that his performance was strong. He had no desire to become the laughingstock of global motorsport fans because of a poor showing; that wasn’t the kind of fame he wanted.

“Mo Shu, as the first driver to start this ERC season, could you share your feelings with everyone?” an officially accredited reporter chased after him with a microphone.

Mo Shu hadn’t really wanted to be interviewed before the race, but Wang Yu had told him it was a mandatory segment—refusing was not an option.

“It’s an honor. Trust me, I’ll take the lead,” Mo Shu replied, concise and brimming with confidence.

“Ha! Take the lead?” scoffed Roger and other rival team fans, watching the interview with undisguised disdain.

And this was a global live broadcast—on both TV and the internet. The contempt was not limited to those present at the venue.

Especially in the live chat rooms and on major motorsport forums, derision of the Divine Team and Mo Shu echoed from all corners of the globe.

“Who’s this guy? That’s all he has to say? Such bravado! As a fan from the United Kingdom, I’m not impressed.”

“I know who they are—the Divine Team, from Huaxia. But as a French fan, I’m not rooting for them either.”

“Does Huaxia even have a decent team? As an Ethiopian fan, I’ve never heard of them.”

“Does it matter? I’m only here for the Carbon Black Gold team—I’m German.”

“Agreed! Germany’s the strongest!”

“You Carbon fanboys, our Minotaur Typhoon fans haven’t even weighed in yet.”

“Pipe down, you island Minotaur fanboys—the William Pirates fans haven’t given you permission to speak.”

“Enough bickering. None of us rate the Divine Team anyway, right?”

“Right! Agreed!”

“Agreed +10!”

“Agreed +300!”

Fortunately, Mo Shu couldn’t see these comments—or they might have affected his performance. Wang Yu sighed and locked his phone screen. As team manager, he was far less busy during the rally, since much of what happened on the course was left in the hands of the co-driver, Wang Yining.

“Mo Shu, I worked hard during recce. Don’t worry, just leave the navigation to me,” Wang Yining encouraged him.

“No need. Get some rest. Just keep the Tank Aura up, that’s all I ask.” Mo Shu’s tone was light and casual, not at all as tense as Wang Yining expected.

“What? You don’t want my navigation?” Wang Yining’s eyes widened; she’d stayed up all night preparing the pace notes.

“No need. Did you forget how I performed in the game segment?” Mo Shu replied confidently.

“The game segment? The one where you raced with Sister Wang and Thomas?” Wang Yining thought for a moment, then suddenly understood.

“That’s right—all the pace notes are in my head!” Mo Shu tapped his helmet with a smile.

Since when did Mo Shu have the ability to memorize pace notes? Wang Yining was utterly bewildered.

But with the start approaching, there was no more time to ponder. She quickly activated her Tank Aura in her mind, and Mo Shu’s Speed Aura began to shimmer as well.

Driver in position. Car ready. Marshals at their posts.

The first ERC race would be launched by Mo Shu and Wang Yining themselves. Every member of the Divine Team held their breath, and fans at every screen fell silent.

Meanwhile, the eight major manufacturers eyed Mo Shu, waiting for him to clear the way, while rivals Carbon Black Gold and Munich Light prepared to sweep aside the Divine Team.

The timer began to count down rapidly—Mo Shu made a perfect, godlike launch, blasting off the line with flawless precision.