đđĽ Four cars, one keyboard, zero mercy
4mula Fun has a very specific kind of energy: the âeveryone is in the room and nobody is calmâ energy. Itâs a racing game, sure, but itâs also a tiny social experiment disguised as Formula-style speed. You load it up on Kiz10, you pick your driver, and suddenly the track isnât just a track⌠itâs a stage for chaos, jokes, accidental elbow bumps, and those dramatic âI WAS AHEAD!â speeches that show up the moment someone gets tapped in a corner. đď¸đ¤
What makes it special isnât some complicated garage menu or a 40-minute career mode. Itâs the instant payoff. The moment the race starts, everything is fast and loud in your head. Youâre staring at your lane, trying to keep the car stable, while also hearing someone next to you celebrating too early. And thatâs when it clicks: this game is built for shared screens and shared panic, the kind that turns a normal race into a memory.
đ§ŠđŽ Split-screen vibes without the heavy setup
Thereâs something beautifully old-school about racing together on one machine. No matchmaking drama, no waiting rooms, no âinvite failed.â Just start, go, survive. The game gives each player their own view, and the track becomes a little arena where everyone is making micro-decisions at the same time. Do you brake early and stay clean? Do you risk it and dive into the corner like youâre late for something important? Do you bump your friend âby accidentâ and then pretend you didnât? đđ¨
And because everyone is dealing with the same physics and the same road, it feels fair in the most brutal way. If you mess up, itâs on you. If someone passes you, itâs because they kept it together for two seconds longer. Or they got lucky. Or they bullied the inside line. Or all three. Racing games love to pretend theyâre polite, but 4mula Fun is happiest when things get messy.
đď¸âĄ The track is long, your patience is short
The circuit has that classic âkeep your speed, respect the turnsâ design. Straightaways tempt you into going full throttle, and then the next bend shows up like a surprise exam you didnât study for. Thatâs where the real drama lives. You feel the speed, you try to hold the racing line, and the tiniest mistake turns into a wobble that turns into a spin that turns into someone screaming âYESSSS!â behind you. đđ
Itâs not just about being fast. Itâs about being steady. Staying smooth through corners, managing your positioning, and not letting the pressure of other cars force you into dumb moves. And yes, itâs hilarious when you do the dumb move anyway, because thatâs part of the fun. Youâre not building a perfect season here. Youâre building moments.
đđ§ Mind games at 200 km/h
Hereâs the sneaky part: once you play a few races, it stops being only about driving and starts being about reading people. One player always brakes too late. Another player always swerves when they panic. Another player is suspiciously consistent and somehow never crashes (weâre watching you đ). So you adapt. You start setting traps without even thinking about it. You take a line that forces them wide. You hold the inside just long enough. You fake a move, then switch. Itâs petty, itâs brilliant, and it turns a simple racing game into a loud, competitive little ritual.
And because itâs local multiplayer, the reactions are instant. You donât just pass someone, you hear them react. You donât just collide, you get blamed out loud. That feedback loop makes every lap feel more intense than it should be. One good overtake feels like a trophy. One bad crash feels like a personal insult. đđ¤
đŹđŚ Cinematic speed, cartoon-level chaos
Sometimes the races feel smooth, like youâre genuinely carving perfect arcs through corners. And then the next second it feels like a slapstick comedy where four cars are all trying to occupy the same space at the same time. That contrast is the charm. The game doesnât need a million features because the âfeatureâ is the group. The group is the content. The group is the soundtrack. The group is the reason the same track can feel completely different every time.
Youâll have rounds where someone takes the lead early and holds it cleanly, and everyone gets weirdly quiet, like the room is suddenly respectful. Then one bump happens and itâs over. The room returns to chaos. Someone laughs too hard. Someone demands a rematch. Someone claims the controls are cursed. đđ
đšď¸đ Controls that reward confidence, punish panic
4mula Fun feels best when you drive with purpose. Smooth steering, controlled cornering, and a steady rhythm. The moment you start panicking and overcorrecting, the car feels like itâs slipping away from you. Thatâs when you learn the real lesson: racing is calm pretending to be speed. The fastest player is usually the one who doesnât flinch.
Of course, in multiplayer, calm is rare. Because youâll see another car creeping up in your mirror and your brain goes full drama mode. You hold your line. You defend. You risk it. You tell yourself youâre being strategic, when really youâre just refusing to let them pass because your pride is sitting in the passenger seat yelling âNO.â đ
đ
đđ Why itâs perfect on Kiz10
This is the kind of free online racing game that doesnât ask for your schedule. You can play one race and feel satisfied, or play ten races and slowly turn your living room into a championship. Itâs quick to understand, quick to restart, and always ready for one more round. The best part is that it works whether youâre playing solo to practice lines or bringing friends in to unleash the true chaotic spirit of four-player racing.
If you like Formula-style circuits, arcade handling, quick competitive rounds, and that classic âlocal multiplayer madnessâ feeling, 4mula Fun delivers exactly what you want: speed, rivalry, and the kind of laughter that happens right after someone spins out on the final turn. On Kiz10, itâs basically a button labeled âstart drama.â đď¸đĽđ
