Chapter 2 Rubbing Sticks

• Jerome Anderson's POV:
• I have to admit, this girl is the first person in my entire life who's ever dared to point a gun at my head.
• In all of Nearburg, maybe even the whole of Atlantis, no one would ever aim a gun at me unless they had a death wish.
• My father controls the arms and drug trade across Atlantis, and he's also got a hand in the gambling industry. Out of all his children, I'm the one most capable of inheriting the family business.
• This time, my father gave me an important task. It was to track down the traitor in Nearburg who's been leaking information to the police.
• This traitor has caused major disruptions to our family business. Our men even had to engage in a large-scale firefight just to keep a shipment of guns from falling into the hands of those fools in the Atlantis police.
• The traitor tried to escape on a cruise ship, planning to flee to Taronia to lie low. What a joke. After betraying my family, there's no way he's getting away scot-free.
• People who betray the Andersons usually end up losing a hand—or worse, their life.
• I underestimated the desperation of a man with nothing to lose. The traitor had allies on the cruise, and I was caught off guard. I got stabbed in the waist, felt the knife twist in my flesh, and my traitorous associate was ready to finish me off.
• At that moment, I had only one option—jump into the ocean. With the state I was in, that was my one percent chance of survival.
• Turns out, I didn't get far before I lost consciousness from the blood loss. When I woke up from the pain, there was someone next to me.
• "A girl's delicate hands aren't suited for holding a gun." I chuckled, not at all concerned she'd pull the trigger. There was no real intent to kill in her eyes.
• I've seen the look of a killer before, and this girl wasn't it. Even while pointing a gun, her gaze was bright, almost innocent.
• She didn't want to shoot me. She just wanted to teach me a lesson.
• My father always taught me to respect and repay those who saved my life, so I let it go.
• Finally, she lowered the gun and stood up, glancing out at the rain. With a sigh, she said, "It's pouring out. The temperature will drop tonight. I'm going to start a fire. You just lie down and rest."
• Well, that's convenient. I had a lighter in my pocket that could start the fire.
• "Hey," I called out. I wasn't sure how to address her, but I wanted to let her know about the lighter.
• "What now?" she asked, clearly irritated. "If we don't get a fire going soon, we're both going to freeze to death in this cave tonight."
• "I ... " My words came out slowly because of the pain.
• "Enough! Shut up and stop asking so many questions!"
• She's got quite the temper. Fine, I'll shut up. I figured she must have her way to start a fire anyway.
• But to my surprise, her method was as primitive as it gets—rubbing sticks together.
• I lay there watching her struggle, silently counting the minutes.
• As her frustration grew, I saw the tiniest flame finally spark in the pile of grass.
• It must've taken over an hour.
• Then a gust of wind blew in, and a wave of cold hit me hard.
• The wind snuffed out her hard-earned fire. I heard her curse quietly.
• I decided it was time to stop enjoying the show. If I didn't give her the lighter soon, we really might freeze to death in here.
• I tossed the lighter from my pocket to her feet, waiting to see how she'd react.
• Her pretty face went through a range of emotions in just a few seconds.
• "D*mn it! Are you messing with me? You're such a jerk!"
• She was furious. "You could've given me this from the start!"
• But you told me to shut up. I replied to her in my head. I didn't have the energy to say it out loud. If it weren't for this wound on my side, I'd have some fun teasing her.
• With the lighter out of my hands, I felt more at ease and closed my eyes to rest.
• The pain in my side had eased up a bit, but I was getting colder, and my eyelids felt heavier.
• My family's rescue team should be tracking me down soon. I just have to survive the night.