The Ferryman of Wildfires

Old Pi is the "ferryman" of this mountainous area, except that he ferries not people, but wildfires.

This job sounds mysterious, but it's actually very simple. It involves carrying a huge flamethrower and, when a wildfire spreads, spraying fire in a specific direction to divert the fire.

Old Pi does this job for the wealthy people on the mountain. They pay a hefty price to protect their mansions on the hilltop, while they don't care about the lives of ordinary people at the foot of the mountain.

At first, Old Pi found this absurd. After all, how could this not be going against nature? But gradually, he got used to it.

The job pays well, tens of thousands of dollars a day, enough to keep his wife and children comfortable. Old Pi was originally just an ordinary forest ranger in the mountains, with a meager salary, working hard every day in the sun and wind, and not saving much money. Now, with money, his children can go to the best schools, and his wife no longer has to argue with people over a few cents of vegetable prices.

He once said to his wife, "This money, it burns!" His wife just smiled and said, "Don't think too much about it. It's enough for our family to live well."

Today, the wildfire has come again, more fiercely than ever. Thick smoke billows, and the air is filled with a pungent, burnt smell. Old Pi picked up his signature flamethrower, like a messenger of the apocalypse, walking towards the flames. He skillfully adjusted the angle of the flamethrower, and the flames, under his control, deviated in the predetermined direction. He could even distinguish which areas were hotter from the color of the flames.

"Over there, over there!" The owners of the hilltop villas stood on their balconies, waving their arms at him from afar, as if directing a grand fireworks display.

Old Pi ignored them. He just worked silently, his eyes filled with numbness.

Suddenly, a familiar voice came over Old Pi's radio. It was his son, Xiao Ming. Xiao Ming said, "Dad, I saw the news, the fire, it seems to be burning towards us!"

Old Pi's heart sank. He realized that in order to protect the mansions of the rich on the hilltop, he had led the fire down the mountain, towards his own home.

He looked up at the hilltop. The villas were still brightly lit, filled with laughter, as if none of this had anything to do with them.

Old Pi clenched the handle of the flamethrower. His mind flashed with his wife's gentle smile and his son's innocent face. He thought, maybe this time, he could do something different.

He took a deep breath and turned the flamethrower 180 degrees, spraying a thick column of fire towards the hilltop. The flames, like a ferocious fire dragon, roared and swallowed the hilltop villas. The screams of the rich were instantly drowned out by the roaring of the flames.

Old Pi threw down the flamethrower and ran down the mountain. He needed to get his family to safety before the fire spread.

When he finally reached the foot of the mountain, he saw his wife and Xiao Ming standing in an open space, safe and sound. They looked at him blankly, their eyes devoid of any surprise or fear, as if they had expected everything.

"Why did you do that?" his wife asked, her voice eerily calm.

"I... I don't want to be a ferryman anymore," Old Pi stammered.

"Oh," his wife nodded, then took out a black remote control from behind her and pressed the red button on it.

The ground under Old Pi's feet suddenly cracked open, revealing a huge pit.

"Welcome to the 'Ferryman' training camp," his wife said with a strange smile, "you have passed the 'non-ferryman' test."

Old Pi instantly understood that his whole family were experimental subjects of the "Ferryman" training camp. Everything he had done was part of their plan.

He fell into the pit. In the darkness, he seemed to see a group of people wearing the same uniforms as him, all sitting silently in the dark corners, each holding a flamethrower. Their eyes glowed eerily in the darkness, like ghosts waiting for instructions.

Old Pi laughed, a laugh filled with despair, but also a hint of relief. He knew he could never escape this absurd cycle. And this absurdity was the true portrayal of the world he lived in.