CHAPTER 317: CHAPTER 317 MIND CONTROLLING

The fire raged on, growing louder with every second.

Chief Rowland paced back and forth near the fire truck, his gloves off, helmet in hand, sweat dripping from his bald. He kept glancing at the burning building and then at the radio on his shoulder, which remained frustratingly silent.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"Chief!" one of the younger firemen shouted from near the hose control panel. "The east wall is heating up too fast! We’re losing pressure on the second feed!"

Chief Rowland didn’t answer at first. He rubbed his temples with his calloused fingers, thinking hard. Then he snapped his head up.

"Redirect full pressure to the east wall. Keep the primary on the west stairwell. If we lose both, that whole damn structure is gonna come down on top of us!"

"Yes, sir!"

The men moved with urgency, repositioning hoses, shouting over each other, and realigning pressure lines.

One of them looked up at the flames and then back at the chief. "Sir, what about the man who went in?"

Chief Rowland exhaled hard through his nose. "Keep doing your jobs. Focus on the fire."

But his voice betrayed his worry. Truth was, he hadn’t heard anything from the young man since he jumped into the building.

A complete stranger.

No fireproof gear. No radio contact. Just jumped right into the inferno like he had nothing to lose. And now the building was burning hotter and faster than before. It was only a matter of time before the upper floors collapsed.

Lilith sat lazily on the hood of a red car nearby, arms crossed, watching them.

"You’re wasting water," she said loudly, voice cutting through the chaos.

Several firefighters turned, giving her sharp looks. A few gritted their teeth. But they didn’t say a word. If she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, someone would have snapped back at her already.

The chief turned to her. "Ma’am, with all due respect—"

She raised her voice slightly, cutting him off. "If he said he was going to get them out, then he’s going to get them out."

Chief Rowland sighed, clearly holding back frustration. "Ma’am, three lives are at risk. We don’t know if—"

CRASH!

Everyone froze.

The building groaned, and glass exploded outward from the fourth floor. Flames erupted beside the window like an angry monster trying to grab at something escaping.

Every head turned upward.

Then they saw him.

Liam burst through the shattered window, holding a woman tightly in his arms. Flames licked at his back, nearly wrapping around him, but they didn’t slow him down for a second. His black shirt soaked in smoke and sweat. In the woman’s arms was a child—curled up, motionless.

Liam landed hard on the street just outside the cordon line. His knees buckled slightly, but he didn’t fall. He gently set the woman down.

Paramedics were already rushing forward.

"Get a stretcher! She’s got burns—child too!"

The mother was dazed but conscious. She held her daughter tightly and wouldn’t let go until they forced her hands apart. The girl was alive, coughing softly.

Liam stood up, breathing heavily, his face stained with ash.

"Jesus," one of the firefighters muttered.

Chief Rowland took a cautious step toward him. "Hey! Wait, hold on!"

But Liam wasn’t listening. His head turned slightly, his eyes narrowing.

There it was again.

A scream. Faint. Most wouldn’t.

But Liam did.

He didn’t say a word.

He turned back to the building, took a few steps, then leapt straight toward the same side he just leapt out of. The same window. The flames reached out again, like they recognized him now, but he didn’t slow down.

He vanished back into the building.

Everyone stood frozen.

"Good Lord," Chief Rowland whispered.

The entire crew turned to the woman on the car.

Lilith just smiled and leaned back again, letting the firelight glow against her pale skin. She didn’t look the least bit worried.

"Told you," she said, her voice full of confidence. "He’s getting them all out."

One of the younger firefighters finally spoke. "Who is he?"

Lilith didn’t answer right away. She looked at the fire, then back at the window Liam had vanished through.

"That," she said simply, "is someone you don’t bet against."

The chief didn’t say anything for a long moment. He looked at the structure again. The entire side of the building was groaning, the flames turning green and orange now. The hoses were doing nothing. The water hissed and evaporated mid-air before it could even touch the walls.

He looked back at Lilith.

Then, quietly, he grabbed his radio and spoke, "Hold pressure. No more water until I say so."

One of the men looked up. "But sir—?"

"Just wait."

They waited.

All eyes were on the building now.

The fire raged louder.

But everyone—firefighters, medics, bystanders—they were all waiting for the man who ran back into the flames a second time.

Liam scanned the hallway as smoke thickened around him, flames licking the walls and ceiling, crackling with intensity. His sharp eyes darted from side to side. Nothing stood out—no movement, no shadows—just fire. A constant roar, almost alive, echoed from every corner.

His breathing was steady, his skin glistening from heat and sweat. He took another step forward, his boots crunching against the broken debris and glass underfoot. If the chief had been right, there were still four people inside. He already rescued two. That meant someone else had to still be in here... and the one with the serum was probably still alive too.

He tried to remember what happened with Arthur earlier—how the fire had flared strongest around him. Liam muttered under his breath, "Where the fire burns brightest..."

But that wasn’t helpful. Right now, everywhere was burning brightly. Every corridor glowed green and red, the temperature rising by the second.

Then—

"AHHHH! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

The scream pierced through the chaos like a knife. Sharp. Terrified. Real.

Liam’s head snapped to the back of the hallway. He didn’t hesitate.

Whoosh!

In a blink, he shot forward, flames parting around him like a gust of wind had cleared a path. At the end of the hallway, one door was already smashed in. No lock, no resistance, just blackened wood barely hanging on its hinges. He pushed the last bits aside with his foot and stepped into the room.

There, in the middle of the ruined space, a young woman in her early twenties was frantically throwing objects—anything she could find. A burnt lamp. A half-melted metal chair. Pieces of a drawer. She was screaming, trembling, her clothes partly singed. Her long braids were frizzed from the heat, and her arms were riddled with small burns.

Across from her stood a man. Late twenties, maybe early thirties. Shirtless, sweaty, and shaking. His right arm was glowing green with fire, the flames radiating off him unnaturally. He didn’t move to hurt her—he looked like he was trying to calm her. His face was full of restraint and struggle, like something inside him was fighting to break loose.

Liam stepped in fully, taking in everything. Neither of them noticed him yet.

Then the girl turned and saw him.

Her eyes widened in instant hope. "Please! Help me! He’s—he’s gonna kill me!"

Liam raised a hand slowly. "Stay still," he said, voice low but firm. "You’re going to be okay."

Then he looked to the man. His eyes, now locked on Liam’s, were full of conflict.

Liam took a step forward, careful not to spook either of them. "What’s your name?" he asked the man.

The man didn’t answer. His jaw clenched. His entire body started trembling harder. The green fire in his hand flickered violently, spreading toward his elbow.

Liam saw his face twist into a grimace. The man was struggling—no, more than that. Something inside him was trying to take control.

The girl tried to back away, but Liam was already on the move. He dashed forward in a blur and snatched her by the arm before she got too close to the flames. His grip was tight but controlled.

The moment he grabbed her, the man dropped to his knees and screamed, "RUN! I CAN’T CONTROL IT!!!"

His other hand caught fire too. Then his shoulders. Then his entire upper body.

Liam’s eyes narrowed. He could see it clearly now—this wasn’t a case of someone going crazy with power. The serum had done something to the guy’s mind. He was trying to hold on, trying not to hurt anyone, but it was slipping.

The green fire spread rapidly across the room, catching furniture and walls. It was hotter than anything Liam had faced so far in the building. The very floorboards beneath them were starting to peel and melt.

Liam turned to the girl, keeping himself between her and the man. "Stay behind me. Don’t move unless I tell you to."

She nodded quickly, eyes still soaked with tears.

The man screamed again, now fully engulfed. His skin hadn’t burned off yet—it looked like it was changing, hardening, becoming something else.

Liam felt the pressure building in the air. Whatever was about to happen, he didn’t have much time left to act.