Chapter 33

Remembering the fortune teller's words that had led him to engage in such nonsense, Greyson couldn't hold back a sneer and let it out.

"Haha..."

At his brief laughter, everyone including Ezra suddenly began watching him nervously. Even from the driver's seat, the driver glanced at Greyson through the rearview mirror.

What's with him? Is he thinking of setting fire to the fire truck too? We have to prevent that at all costs! It's okay, we lost the last physical fight, but if we all rush him together this time, we can stop him. Dane is here today too!

In reality, Dane had already turned his head toward the window, showing no interest, and Greyson, completely unconcerned with their worries, was furrowing his brow deeply while recalling the fortune teller's face.

Right, there's nothing special about it anyway. Fortune tellers always deceive people with nonsense. He had been fooled so many times he couldn't even count. He had failed as many times as he had visited fortune tellers.

But fire, that wasn't completely wrong.

Greyson narrowed his eyes and thought. I'll burn that fortune teller.

* * *

When they arrived at the scene, black smoke was rising high, obscuring the sky. Even before getting out of the truck, the acrid smell of smoke stung their noses. As soon as the truck stopped, they hurriedly got down to the ground and assessed the situation with their eyes.

"Damn it, hell."

Someone cursed with a sigh. This was understandable because the fire had grown much larger than when they first received the call. The house where it had started had already burned down completely, and the flames had spread to three more houses on either side. The ground was littered with broken glass and burnt debris, causing people to abandon their self-rescue efforts and stand at a distance from the street.

Wilkins shouted to the people gathered at a distance, anxiously watching the flames.

"Are the owners of these burning houses here? Is everyone out?"

Most people would likely be at work at this time, so the houses were probably empty. After confirming that no one came forward, Wilkins hurriedly surveyed the fire scene. Meanwhile, the firefighters under his command moved in unison. Greyson watched as if it were someone else's business as they took out firefighting equipment in a predetermined order and rushed forward. In fact, it was someone else's business. He had no intention of getting involved in this and running around like a fool.

"Miller, hey! Come over here!"

Wilkins, who had been assessing the situation and giving directions here and there, suddenly called for Greyson. Standing leisurely alone amidst the people rushing back and forth, he didn't budge at the call and asked from where he stood.

"What is it?"

Wilkins felt a surge of anger but restrained himself, considering the reality. Putting out the fire was the top priority now.

"We need to create a firebreak to prevent the fire from spreading further. You're responsible for this area from here to here."

Instead of answering, Greyson frowned. Create a firebreak? He had never even heard the term before. Seeing Greyson standing silently and just staring, Wilkins let out a deep sigh instead of anger, then personally grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the spot.

"Look, you remove everything that could catch fire from here to here. Including any electrical appliances or dangerous items. Do you understand?"

Wilkins, explaining in the simplest terms as if addressing a preschooler, asked while making eye contact with Greyson. Greyson, who had been silent until then, looked to the side once, then at the ground, scratched the back of his head, and sighed as if annoyed. Fortunately, he moved without saying much. Wilkins felt somewhat relieved watching him. It was fortunate to have one more pair of hands in a situation where every bit of help was needed. Then he immediately turned around and assessed the situation.

Sounds of collapsing houses, pouring water, murmuring noise, and various irritating vibrations from equipment were everywhere. Passing by DeAndre, who was cutting a garage door with a chainsaw, he turned toward the next burning house, quickly walking while shouting continuously.

"Lower! Raise the hose higher! Spray the water upward! Higher, more!"

"Is the second floor all burned? Oh no, the roof is completely gone too."

"Who entered inside? ...Good, no one has been found so far, right? Hmm, understood. Keep looking."

Sometimes pointing out areas for improvement, sometimes encouraging, he commanded the scene, and after making a round, he returned to Greyson.

"Oh."

Surprisingly, he had perfectly completed the assigned task. Though one might think it was just moving and clearing things, like anywhere else, countless people failed to do it properly their first time, so he had been somewhat prepared, but seeing the neatly arranged firebreak made him see this man in a slightly new light.

"Well done, not bad."

Just as he was about to turn around after lightly patting his arm, he saw an employee about to enter a house. At that moment, Wilkins frowned.

"Dane! Dane Striker!"

At the call, Dane, who was about to head inside with a hose, hesitated and turned to look at him. Wilkins, who had hurriedly approached, asked.

"Are you going in alone? Is there no one else?"

"As you can see."

He answered indifferently as always. With the large fire, everyone was already struggling with their assigned tasks.

"Support will come from another fire station soon. Why don't you go in together? Going in alone is dangerous..."

Just then.

"Aaaah! Aaah!"

Suddenly, a man screamed and tried to rush into the house. Dane quickly grabbed him, but the man continued to struggle, paying no attention.

"No, Charlie! Charlie!"

Seeing him call the same name repeatedly while shedding tears, Wilkins hurriedly asked.

"What's wrong? Are you the owner of this house?"

At his calm yet quick tone, the man nodded while continuously crying. Wilkins continued to ask.

"I'm Darius Wilkins. What's your name? ...Good. Mr. George Wright. Are you single? Do you have any other family?"

"Charlie, Charlie inside, Charlie."

"Calm down, we'll help you... Who is Charlie? Is he in the house now?"

The man sobbed and kept nodding his head up and down.

"Charlie always waits for me alone, and even now, he must be waiting for me in there. Let go, let me go! I have to save Charlie! Charlie!"

"Alright, alright! Please calm down!"

Wilkins restrained him in an even more firm voice than before. After watching the man who was just crying out of helplessness for a moment, Wilkins asked again.

"How old is Charlie? Is it your wife? Or partner?"

"Twelve, years old... very pretty blonde..."

"Your daughter, I see."

As Wilkins added on behalf of the man who couldn't continue speaking properly due to sobbing, he shook his head while crying.

"A dog, Charlie is a dog..."

Dane and Wilkins quickly exchanged glances. Soon they learned that Charlie was a Golden Retriever.

"And what else? Is there any chance anyone else is inside?"

To Wilkins's continued questioning, the man shook his head.

"Charlie is my only family. Please save our Charlie, Charlie is all I have... please..."

The man collapsed and wailed. Wilkins patted his shoulder as if to comfort him, then immediately looked around. There were still no usable staff members in sight. Except for Greyson Miller, who seemed completely useless.

When their eyes met, Greyson gave a slight smile. It was just a smile with no meaning, merely a social skill he had mastered. Wilkins twisted his face and immediately turned away. Again, he looked around for someone to go in with, but no suitable person was in sight.

"This is bad. Can't go in alone either."

The flames had grown too large now. The risk factors were too great to send someone in alone without anyone to help in case they inhaled smoke incorrectly or if an accident occurred.