Chapter 32: Grief Behind Glory
The roar of a crowd felt distant, like it was happening underwater, muffled and detached from the rhythm of my heartbeat. I could hear the faint crackle of lingering fires behind me, sirens wailing in the background, their blaring harmonizing with the chants growing louder—"Fox! Fox! Fox!"
I didn't stand up immediately. My legs were still there, functional, but my body felt weightless, like I was a shadow pretending to have mass. The ache wasn't in my muscles—it was somewhere deeper, coiled in my chest like a flame that wouldn't go out.
Chief Ryan's eyes haunted me.
But the cameras didn't care. Neither did the microphone shoved inches from my face. The reporter's voice was insistent, piercing through the fog.
"Mr. Fox, please—just one more question! Your name is spreading like wildfire—no pun intended—you saved hundreds today! Can you tell us your rank?"
My body moved before my mind did. Standing up felt foreign, as if I was borrowing someone else's strength. My gloves felt heavier than before, soaked with more than just sweat. The ash in the air clung to my suit, but none of it mattered. I reached into my scorched jacket, pulling out the ID card I'd nearly forgotten existed.
"Here," I muttered, flashing the badge.
The camera zoomed in.
[MR. FOX | C-RANK FIREFIGHTER]
Skills:
Fire Suppression (Lv. 3)