A Tinderbox of Vengeance

I knew perfectly well that open flames were forbidden at a gas-leak scene, yet as a firefighter, I still backed my girlfriend's childhood friend when he insisted on lighting a cigarette "to calm his nerves."

In my previous life, a sudden gas leak erupted during a gathering. Her childhood friend insisted on smoking to steady himself. I slapped the lighter out of his hand and yelled at him for trying to get us all killed.

Humiliated, he ignored everyone's attempts to stop him and stormed outside—only to be crushed by an advertising board blown loose by the explosion's shockwave.

Later, when I saved a child who had fallen from a building and was left hanging in midair myself, my girlfriend—my second-in-command—maliciously cut my safety rope.

She stared at my corpse and said, "If you hadn't humiliated George in front of everyone, he wouldn't have died."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that room thick with the stench of leaking gas.

"Finn, what are you spacing out for?"

Lisa Parker's irritated voice dragged me out of those blood-soaked memories.

I… had been reborn.

I looked at her, then at George Penn beside her, cursing under his breath as he toyed with his lighter.

Clenching my fists, I forced myself to stay calm through the pain.

I couldn't repeat the mistakes of my previous life.

If I rushed in and tried to stop George the way I did back then, he would only explode in anger and everything would unfold the same way again.

But this time, if he lit that lighter, we would all die here.

I couldn't die—and my teammates behind me were even more innocent.

Drawing in a steadying breath, I put on an urgent expression and barked sharply in George's direction.

"George! What do you think you're doing? Put the lighter down! This is a gas-leak site!"

George flinched hard, nearly dropping the lighter.

But before he could respond, Lisa instantly blew up.

She stepped in front of him, glaring up at me like a furious cat bristling its fur.

"Finn, what are you yelling for? Look at how you frightened him! He's just nervous and wants a cigarette. Do you have to be so aggressive?"

She spoke with such righteous indignation, as if I were the one making trouble for no reason.

What a touching little scene—beauty rushing to protect the fool.

Too bad I wasn't the clueless idiot I had been in my last life.

"Lisa! Get a grip! This isn't a joke!"

I stared at her shielding that imbecile and let out a cold laugh inside, though on my face I feigned anxiety and helpless frustration.

"Lisa, listen to me! The instruments already detected that the gas concentration is at explosive levels! Forget open flames—one static spark could blow all of us to pieces!"

While pleading with her, I shifted my body to block their line of sight and gently pressed the button on the recorder in my chest pocket.

Seeing how fiercely Lisa defended him, George regained his courage in an instant.

Peeking out from behind her, he smirked with shameless bravado. "Captain, aren't you overreacting a little? You're just fear-mongering. It's only a cigarette. What's the big deal?

"And besides, Lisa said it's fine. You're a grown man—can't you stop being so petty?"

In my previous life, his words would've provoked me. Now, they just seemed laughable.

Realizing that talking wouldn't work, I subtly signaled the team behind me with a covert tactical gesture.

—Prepare to withdraw. Find cover. Stay alert.

Veteran firefighter Josh Kieran, standing right behind me, stiffened slightly, but his expression didn't change. He immediately understood.

He shifted just enough to shield Lisa and George's view from the others, gave me a discreet nod, then stepped back half a pace and tapped the two firefighters beside him.

The three of them moved almost simultaneously, quietly edging toward the kitchen doorway, ready to retreat at a second's notice.

Everything was in place.

I turned my gaze back to Lisa and let a hint of desperation soften my voice. "Lisa, I'm begging you—talk some sense into him! This concerns every life in this room. You're a firefighter too. You should understand."

But Lisa didn't appreciate it at all.

If anything, she seemed to relish how my pleading made her look in front of George.

She turned to comfort him, then spoke the one sentence that destroyed our final thread of hope.

"George, don't be scared. I'm here. Go ahead and light it—nothing will happen."

Watching the two of them stand there, perfectly aligned and perfectly ignorant, I gathered every ounce of strength and shouted to my team, "Down!"

It was a command given to my comrades who trusted me with their lives.

And at the exact moment the word left my mouth, George pressed the lighter in his hand.