Recently, many people in the prosecutor’s office had noticed that Prosecutor Luo Hai wasn’t doing too well.
If the office had an award for the most diligent worker, Luo Hai would undoubtedly win it. But lately, he had been arriving late several days in a row.
Although his professionalism ensured that his work wasn’t affected, anyone with eyes could see that his face was pale, his dark circles were severe, and there was a constant weariness in his expression.
Perhaps because of this, the usual cold and distant aura he carried had somewhat softened. As a result, even colleagues who had never paid attention to him before had started casting more frequent glances his way.
For example, Prosecutor Bray, who handled financial crimes, had already looked at Luo Hai for the fifth time that day—so much so that he didn’t even hear when a colleague called his name.
“Bray? Bray?” Barney waved a hand in front of his face.
“Huh?” He finally snapped out of it.
“What’s wrong with you today? You’ve been staring at him for minutes,” Barney said. “Does he have something on his face? Or maybe some food stuck between his teeth?”
Bray clicked his tongue and lowered his voice. “Don’t you think Prosecutor Luo Hai is actually really good-looking?”
Barney was taken aback. “Is he? I never really noticed.”
“Well, it’s not too late to notice now.” Bray gestured toward Luo Hai with his chin. “Look at that face, those eyelashes, those lips. How many Alphas do you know who look like that?”
Barney followed his gaze. Luo Hai was currently speaking with a female colleague from the archives department. Since the woman was shorter than him, his eyes were lowered, gazing downward. Under the stark white fluorescent lights, his already pale skin looked even more delicate, and his thin lips seemed to have lost some color.
This gave him a softer, more refined—more… beautiful—appearance than usual.
Barney was startled by his own choice of words. Beautiful? Why was he using that word to describe an Alpha?
“Luo Hai is definitely better-looking than most Alphas,” Barney said carefully, “but good looks aren’t exclusive to Omegas. It’s all about genetics.”
“Do you know who his parents are?” Bray asked.
“Well…” Barney hesitated, stealing a glance at Luo Hai to make sure he wasn’t listening before continuing, “All I know is that years ago, chief prosecutor Doyle went on a business trip up north and brought back an orphan. He never explained why or where the kid came from. A few years later, that orphan entered the prosecutor’s office.”
“He’s the chief prosecutor’s adopted son?” Bray was surprised.
“Sort of. But in all these years, I’ve never seen the chief prosecutor take care of him in any way. No special treatment, no promotions—just a normal superior-subordinate relationship.”
Bray fell silent, deep in thought.
Barney checked his watch. It was the end of the workday, so he began packing up his desk. As he placed his things into his briefcase, he glanced at Bray again.
“I’d advise you to stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking,” Barney said. “The prosecutor’s office only hires Alphas. That’s the law.”
“Such a buzzkill,” Bray muttered, kicking Barney’s chair. “Can’t I at least think about it?”
Barney shook his head with a frown, grabbed his briefcase, and left the office—doing his best to push Bray’s words and Luo Hai’s increasingly unstable scent out of his mind.
Of course, Prosecutor Luo Hai was an Alpha.
Every single employee at the Nantes Prosecutor’s Office was an Alpha, from top to bottom, inside and out.
That was the only way to maintain the authority of Nantes’ laws, the only way to ensure fairness and stability in society.
….
When Luo Hai finally finished his last document, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Medication could suppress the nature of one’s scent, but it couldn’t ease the body’s physical reactions. Out of sight from others, sweat had already soaked the back of his shirt, dripping down his spine.
But he could still hold on. It only took twelve minutes to walk home from the office, and he was confident he could keep his composure the entire way. Aside from the sweat at his temples, no one would notice anything unusual.
Once he was back in his apartment, once that security door shut behind him, the bustling city would have no idea what would unfold behind closed doors.
However, just as he closed his file, Bray’s face suddenly appeared before him.
The office was quiet. Most of the staff had already packed up and left, leaving just the two of them.
“Do you need something, Prosecutor Bray?” Luo Hai barely paused before continuing his task.
“I heard you’ve been sick,” Bray said lazily, leaning against the wall—conveniently blocking Luo Hai’s exit. “Is it serious? Are you okay?”
“Thank you for your concern. I’m fine.” Luo Hai didn’t even look up.
“Really? You haven’t been looking too great lately.” Bray stepped closer. “If you’re not feeling well, you should take some time off. Don’t push yourself. If you’re worried about the chief prosecutor getting mad, I can even put in a request for you.”
“Prosecutor Bray.” Luo Hai frowned. “I appreciate the concern, but I know my own body. If you really care, then step aside and let me go home to rest.”
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling really bad?” Instead of moving, Bray positioned himself even more firmly in Luo Hai’s path, leaving him no escape.
This rat-faced, balding Alpha was grinning as he started releasing his pheromones.
To Luo Hai, it was like throwing a match into a swamp—disgusting, but still capable of igniting an explosion.
Pain was the first sensation to hit him.
It crashed over him like a tidal wave, swallowing his consciousness whole. His vision blurred, his temples throbbed violently, and the hand holding the file trembled uncontrollably.
“Get lost,” Luo Hai spat through gritted teeth.
Bray either didn’t notice his reaction or simply didn’t care. Instead of stepping back, he boldly grabbed Luo Hai’s wrist.
“Prosecutor Luo Hai, have you ever noticed that your pheromones are… different?” he murmured. “They don’t smell like other Alphas’. Yours are so… elegant, so delicate…”
His fingers traced the inside of Luo Hai’s wrist, then started moving up his forearm, following the veins beneath the skin.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Bray’s wrist, then his arm, then his entire shoulder.
With a scream, he lost all strength and collapsed onto the floor. Looking up, he met Luo Hai’s gaze—cold as ice.
“Prosecutor Bray.” Luo Hai’s voice was calm. “If you can’t control your urges, go to the lower district and find yourself an Omega. Not your own Alpha colleague. You’re a prosecutor—you know the law. Even if I killed you here and now, it would be considered self-defense.”
Bray’s rationality came rushing back, and he broke into a cold sweat. His voice stuttered. “S-Sorry… I lost my head… I don’t know what came over me… Please, don’t tell the chief prosecutor!”
Luo Hai cast a look of disgust at him and loosened his grip.
Bray stammered out his thanks, scrambling to his feet and hurriedly leaving.
As the sound of footsteps gradually faded, Luo Hai could no longer control his body and slowly slid down to the floor, leaning against his desk.
His breathing was rapid, and pain burned like a raging fire in his chest, radiating through every inch of his body, crushing his bones one by one.
An unspeakable physiological reaction accompanied the pain, making his body feverish and his legs weak. Every breath felt like an invisible hand was gripping his lungs, refusing to let go.
Originally, he had been able to hold on long enough to walk the ten minutes back to his apartment. But now, just maintaining his composure in front of Bray had already drained every last bit of his strength.
But he couldn’t lose control here. There were still other people in the building. If he made even the slightest unusual noise, someone would come to check on him.
He had to leave.
He had to get out of this place filled with Alphas.
Luo Hai didn’t know how he managed to drag his aching, weakened body forward. His feet felt like they were stepping on cotton, his vision and hearing growing blurry. He had no idea where he was going or how far he had walked.
It was as if all his senses were submerged underwater—hazy, indistinct. Only a sliver of willpower lashed at him, forcing him to move forward, to leave the prosecutor’s office.
Suddenly, something on the ground caught his foot. Luo Hai stumbled and fell.
Neither his strength nor his rationality could support him enough to get up again.
His vision dimmed, his ears rang sharply, and sweat trickled from his neck down to his chest, soaking the fabric of his shirt.
He felt unbearably hot. Instinctively, he reached up to loosen the collar of his shirt, revealing the defined lines of his collarbone and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
And in this moment of utter helplessness, the only thing that surfaced in his mind was Eugene Oddis.
Maybe he was right.
He had underestimated the power of instincts. His body couldn’t keep holding on like this forever.
Sooner or later, this enormous lie would be exposed. And when that happened, he would lose everything he had worked for.
Perhaps that day was today.
At that moment, a pair of arms wrapped around him. A rush of warmth and the scent of an Alpha enveloped him.
Despair crashed over him.
He had been discovered. It was over.
“Luo Hai.” A voice whispered in his ear.
It was a voice so familiar—one he had heard countless times in his dreams.
So now… was this a dream or reality?
Luo Hai opened his eyes, and Eugene’s face was right in front of him.
“I warned you,” Eugene said softly.
His tone was gentle, but his actions were not. He reached out, gripping Luo Hai’s chin, savoring the look of helplessness on his face.
Luo Hai looked at him, his eyelashes trembling slightly. After a long pause, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice, “You should be in a prison cell.”
“Maybe I’m a little sprite that can turn into a bird and fly out of the cage?” Eugene lowered his voice, his fingertips stroking Luo Hai’s earlobe. “Or maybe you’re just dreaming, and I’m merely the perfect lover you imagined?”
“If I were to fantasize about something, I’d rather imagine a vibrator than you,” Luo Hai said.
Eugene let out a laugh. “Still as unpleasant as ever.”
With that, he lowered his head and kissed Luo Hai’s lips.
