Luo Hai’s office was tucked away in an inconspicuous corner on the third floor of the Prosecutor’s Office, a location so perplexingly remote it left countless people seeking him utterly bewildered. Its placement seemed deliberately designed to be hard to find, radiating an unmistakable “keep out” vibe.
However, his assistant, Colin, was thoroughly familiar with the twists, turns, and shadows of the route. Carrying a stack of files, he entered Luo Hai’s office, where the man was already reviewing the final document on his desk.
Luo Hai had sharp, angular eyebrows that gave him a striking presence even when expressionless. The bridge of his nose cast a shadow under the light, and his slightly tousled hair partially obscured the cold eyes few dared to meet.
When Prosecutor Luo Hai was in a good mood, his office carried a faint, refreshing scent of mint. Most of the time, however, the mint aroma was overpowering and sharp, exuding the characteristic aggressiveness of a strong Alpha and an icy demeanor that mirrored his personality.
Usually, the concentration of his pheromones was within a tolerable range for Colin. That day, though, for reasons unknown, the room was utterly saturated with the stifling scent. As soon as Colin turned the doorknob, he was nearly overwhelmed.
While Alpha pheromones do fluctuate with mood and condition, such extreme shifts were something Colin had only ever seen in Luo Hai.
If he didn’t know his boss so well, he might have thought Luo Hai was working through heat periods at his desk.
Colin paused for a couple of seconds to adjust before approaching Luo Hai’s desk and placing the files on it. “These are yesterday’s case files. Please review them.”
“Alright,” Luo Hai replied briefly, not sparing an extra word or even looking up from the document he was working on.
“Have you finished reviewing these?” Colin asked.
“Yes, you can take them to the Chief Prosecutor.”
Luo Hai’s efficiency was, as always, unmatched. No one else in the office could process so many files in such a short amount of time. Not only that, but every document was meticulously annotated, with some sections even containing handwritten notes.
Yet, despite his exceptional efficiency and ability, Luo Hai had worked in the Central Prosecutor’s Office for six years without any promotion or pay raise. Even Barney, who looked like he had a chronic case of confusion, was promoted last year, but Luo Hai remained stagnant—a fact Colin found utterly baffling in his career.
Colin flipped through the documents Luo Hai had finished, noting, as usual, that most of the cases involved Omega crimes.
Illegal entry into the city, illegally collecting food stamps, refusing to participate in Offering Day, fleeing from Alpha buyers…
For some reason, the Chief Prosecutor always assigned Omega crime cases to Luo Hai. Perhaps it was because he had a particular aptitude for them. His cold and unfeeling demeanor spared him from excessive sympathy, enabling him to complete such cases efficiently.
“This year’s Omega crimes have at least doubled compared to last year. They’re really getting bolder,” Colin remarked. “I just don’t get it. Why do they knowingly break the law? Take these illegal border crossings, for instance—it’s not like they can’t leave the city. Wouldn’t it be easier to just find an Alpha to take them out legally? Offering Days are monitored by agencies to ensure their health and safety, but they insist on resisting the law…”
“Omegas are parasites in society,” Luo Hai stated flatly, his eyes never leaving the files on his desk. “Weak bodies, incapable of manual labor, and their heat cycles constantly disrupt public order. In my personal opinion, this gender has no social value whatsoever and should be eradicated entirely.”
Even though Colin was an Alpha himself, he was taken aback by his superior’s extreme statement. Trying to tread lightly, he replied, “Uh, well, I wouldn’t go that far. Without Omegas, humanity wouldn’t have recovered so quickly after the Great Catastrophe. And you can’t rule out the possibility of Omegas achieving great things. After all, the father of the internet was an Omega, right? I think as long as they don’t break the law and live well, they’re quite likable.”
Luo Hai didn’t respond, but the growing displeasure on his face and the increasingly overwhelming pheromone scent in the room made it clear that continuing this topic wouldn’t lead anywhere good.
Colin cleared his throat and quickly shifted the topic. “This surge in Omega crime rates this year is all thanks to those rebellious lunatics. Now that they’ve finally caught their leader, without him, the group is just a mob. It won’t take long for them to collapse on their own.”
Luo Hai briefly lifted his gaze from the file for half a second and glanced at Colin. “You’re optimistic. That’s a virtue in you.”
“…” Having worked closely with Luo Hai for years, Colin could easily detect the hidden sarcasm beneath his flat tone.
“Even if it doesn’t go as smoothly, it’s still a major accomplishment,” Colin insisted. “His case has been making waves for months. Just wait, tomorrow morning’s headlines will definitely be all about yesterday’s trial. The Chief Prosecutor is likely to promote you because of this case.”
Luo Hai didn’t respond. Silence gradually filled the room, making Colin feel uneasy.
Had he said something wrong again? Wasn’t this just a normal office topic?
And was the suffocating intensity of the pheromones in the room really normal?
“Mr. Luo Hai?” He forced himself to call out. Two seconds later, Luo Hai finally raised his head from the file, looking at Colin with eyes that seemed as deep as an abyss.
No wonder no one at the prosecutor’s office wanted to deal with Luo Hai—just being stared at by those cold, sharp eyes made it hard to breathe.
“I became a prosecutor to uphold the authority of the law and social stability, not for a promotion,” Luo Hai said, his gaze still fixed on the file. “Catch one, and others will pop up. As long as these scum aren’t eradicated, our work is never done.”
After finishing, Luo Hai placed the last file on the top of the pile and emotionlessly said, “Take this to the Chief Prosecutor.”
Colin had no choice but to take the file in his arms and stop further commenting on Luo Hai’s work. The moment he stepped out of the office, he sighed in relief and quickened his pace toward the Chief Prosecutor’s office.
……
Luo Hai’s office light stayed on until nightfall.
The prosecutor’s office was indeed a busy place, but even the most diligent prosecutor didn’t stay later than Luo Hai.
When the final sound of the door closing echoed, the entire building fell into darkness and silence, with only the light in Luo Hai’s office still burning, like a dangerous glow in the pitch-black sea.
When the moon hung high in the sky, its frosty light spilling through the glass window into the room, Luo Hai finally put down his pen and, against the moonlight, looked out the window.
The special prison was less than a hundred meters behind the prosecutor’s office, holding various high-profile criminals. Even the Chief Prosecutor, Doyle, who was extremely confident in the current justice system, didn’t trust them completely, so the prison had been built right beneath the prosecutor’s office.
Without the noise of the day, some subtle sounds became clearer in the stillness.
The sound of metal clashing, laughter, screams, and curses hanging in the air would make anyone unfamiliar with the place think they had stumbled into hell.
Eugene Oddis was at the center of this hell.
Luo Hai furrowed his brows, his breathing growing more hurried. He pressed his forehead against the window, and his hot breath formed an ambiguous mist on the glass.
The entire day’s work still couldn’t erase Eugene Oddis’s face from his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, that man’s playful smile appeared before him.
His eyes, his nose, the corners of his lips that curled up, his slightly curled blond hair, even his cuffed hands and that orange prison uniform. Every detail was clear, like a photograph under a microscope.
He knelt in the center of the courtroom while Luo Hai sat at the raised prosecutor’s seat. Those eyes, which had appeared in his dreams for years, pierced through the courtroom, locking with his, full of amusement and mockery, with nothing else.
“Hello, Prosecutor Luo Hai,” he had said.
That voice echoed in his ears, and Luo Hai’s canine teeth sank into his lower lip.
The taste of iron spread in his mouth, and he could clearly sense his rationality slowly being overtaken by instinct.
Luo Hai slid down the glass window, eventually reaching the wall, cold sweat drenching his brow. He struggled to drag his body to his desk, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a syringe from the row of cold, steel needles.
He unbuttoned his left sleeve with one hand, biting down on the fabric.
His forearm was already covered with purple-red needle marks. Now, the new needle pierced into the battered skin, almost cruelly separating flesh from blood.
The cold liquid surged through his body, violently disrupting his balance. Every vein burned, every nerve screamed in pain, but at the same time, his impulses rose like an unstoppable wave.
If it weren’t for Eugene Oddis, for the eyes that looked at him, for the false smile at the corner of his lips, perhaps he could have held on a little longer.
Luo Hai discarded the syringe and lay flat on the office floor, his vacant eyes staring up at the pale ceiling.
The night had deepened, and the prosecutor’s office building stood empty. No one would see him, no one would discover him, and no one could save him.
Overwhelming impulses drowned out all rationality. The once imposing prosecutor’s office turned to water, swallowed by obscure sounds. If anyone happened to pass by the window at that moment, they wouldn’t believe the cold, unfeeling Luo Hai could be the one making those noises.
He was like a lone ship sinking into the deep sea, quietly, submissively, and slowly falling apart.
