Eugene took the syringe from Luo Hai’s hand, pulled down the sleeve on his battered left arm, then reached for his right arm and gently rolled up the sleeve.
His right arm was clean—skin so pale it was almost translucent, blue veins visible beneath the surface like rivers winding through mountains.
Holding Luo Hai’s arm steady, Eugene inserted the needle and slowly pushed the medication in.
Luo Hai gasped heavily, cold sweat trickling from his forehead to his temples. When Eugene finished injecting the first dose, Luo Hai gritted out a few words from between his teeth.
“Another one.”
Eugene glanced at him but complied, taking another syringe from the box and injecting it into a different vein.
A low, muffled groan escaped Luo Hai’s throat. He tilted his head back, resting it against the bed frame, his breathing shallow and rapid. For a long moment, he stayed like that—until suddenly, he sucked in a deep breath, as if he had just been pulled out of water, and gasped for air.
“You do realize that if you keep using this stuff, you probably won’t live past fifty, right?” Eugene muttered, pulling out the needle and tossing the syringe into the trash.
Luo Hai slowly turned his head to look at him, his chest rising and falling. “That’s still better than you, someone who won’t live past next month.”
Eugene was momentarily speechless, then suddenly let out a chuckle.
Unbelievable. Even with a fever like this, that poisonous tongue of his couldn’t be stopped.
Not long after the two doses of medication were administered, Luo Hai’s expression eased significantly. Eugene could distinctly smell the scent unique to an Omega gradually fading from Luo Hai, replaced by a sharper, more aggressive scent.
In just two minutes, Luo Hai had transformed from a sweetly fragrant Omega back into a cold and sharp Alpha.
“What exactly is in this drug?” Eugene picked up the box of syringes, examining the packaging for any listed ingredients. Unfortunately, the box was completely blank except for a simple label: “For research use only.”
“Inhibitors and artificial pheromones.” Luo Hai propped himself up, struggling not to slide off the bed like a puddle of mud.
“The harmful part is the inhibitor?” Eugene asked, still studying the box.
“No, the inhibitor just suppresses an Omega’s biological cycle,” Luo Hai’s voice was hoarse. “The real effect comes from the artificial pheromones. They temporarily alter my pheromone composition, making it smell like an Alpha’s.”
“You’re saying there’s already a drug that can suppress an Omega’s cycle?” Eugene mused. “Even their heat cycle can be skipped with this?”
“This drug is still in the research phase and won’t be made public,” Luo Hai replied. “My case is special, so I have access to it.”
Eugene twirled the box in his hands, deep in thought. “Is it really because it’s still in research, or is it that if this drug became public knowledge, Alpha dominance would be immediately shaken?”
Luo Hai snatched the box from his hands and tossed it back into the drawer, his gaze sharpening with a clear warning. “It’s none of your business.”
Eugene gave a faint smile and raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. “I know, I know. I’m just a prisoner now, all I can do is talk. No need to be so tense. Lie down—you need to rest.”
He placed a firm hand on the back of Luo Hai’s neck, ignoring his resistance, and forcibly laid him back onto the bed. Then he fetched a basin of water and pressed a damp towel onto Luo Hai’s burning forehead.
Luo Hai’s fever was still high, and he was far from being able to argue with Eugene. The moment his head touched the pillow, he closed his eyes in discomfort, struggling to breathe.
Eugene went to the kitchen, made a bowl of ginger soup, and brought back some fever medicine. He helped Luo Hai drink it down before carefully wiping the sweat from his body with a clean towel and tucking him in properly.
Luo Hai was utterly exhausted—too tired to even bother kicking Eugene out of his room. The warmth of the blankets and the effects of the medicine pulled him deeper into drowsiness. Finally, he stopped resisting and drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up again, the outside world was pitch black. The room was silent, except for the sound of the rain, which continued to fall steadily.
Eugene was still sitting by his bedside, one leg crossed over the other, engrossed in a book—Human Nature and Law. Luo Hai recognized it as one from his own bookshelf.
Seeing Nantes’ most notorious terrorist reading a law book with such interest—it was almost like something out of a satirical film.
“You’re awake?” Eugene lifted his gaze from the book. “How do you feel?”
“Still alive,” Luo Hai rasped, surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded.
Eugene set the book aside, leaned down, and pressed his forehead against Luo Hai’s.
Luo Hai was caught off guard, but at this moment, he neither had the strength nor the reflexes to push him away. Eugene’s body heat seeped through their skin, and the unexpected contact sent a small jolt of electricity through Luo Hai’s nerves, momentarily leaving him dazed.
But Eugene soon lifted his head, smiling in satisfaction. “Not bad. The fever’s gone down—you’re getting better.”
Luo Hai didn’t move, merely staring at him with a weary gaze, his disheveled bangs still in disarray from Eugene’s touch. “I thought for sure you’d take this opportunity to do something to me.”
Eugene put on a mock-offended expression. “Is that really how you see me?”
Luo Hai’s face remained impassive. “Yes.”
Eugene was momentarily speechless before finally muttering, “I’ll let that one slide today, okay?”
Luo Hai knew he shouldn’t, but he let out a faint, fleeting smile.
Eugene wrung out the towel, soaked it in fresh cold water, and placed it back on Luo Hai’s forehead.
“I’m actually pretty good at taking care of sick people, you know. Back in the orphanage, those girls always got sick in the fall. When Auntie Ai wasn’t around, I was the one who took care of them. Boiling medicine, cooking, washing clothes—even mending a stuffed bear once when it tore.”
Luo Hai didn’t say anything, just maintained steady breathing.
“Too bad you rarely got sick as a kid, so I never really got the chance to take care of you.” Eugene tugged his blanket up, tucking him in properly. “You were as tough as a cockroach back then—played outside in a snowstorm for an hour and didn’t even catch a cold. The next day, the rest of us were sneezing and sniffling, but you were still running around like a little sun, glowing all over the place.”
Eugene chuckled. “Really, you were the healthiest kid in the orphanage. No one ever imagined you’d end up differentiating into an Omega.”
“Are you here just to humiliate me?” Luo Hai asked hoarsely.
“How could I?” Eugene’s lips curled into a smile as he leaned forward, lowering his voice to whisper in Luo Hai’s ear, “If I wanted to humiliate you, I would’ve shouted to the whole world the moment you broke me out of prison—that the fearsome, revered Prosecutor Luo Hai is actually nothing more than a fragile, helpless, and pitiful—”
Luo Hai cut him off with his raspy voice, “Just a reminder, I may have a fever, but there’s still a gun under my pillow.”
Eugene chuckled and backed off.
He flipped the towel on Luo Hai’s forehead to its cooler side, then placed his thumb on an acupoint on Luo Hai’s head, massaging it gently.
“But I still remember that one time when I said I wanted the persimmons from the tree in the yard. You climbed right up without a second thought, slipped, and ended up with a giant bump on your head. I even gave you the same head massage back then.”
Luo Hai kept his eyes shut, showing no reaction. Only the slightest quiver of his long eyelashes betrayed a hint of emotion.
“You had this huge bump on your head, but you didn’t cry or scream. You just sucked it up, even when Auntie Ai scolded you for half an hour straight. You never once ratted me out,” Eugene murmured, his voice low and gentle. His fingers slowly kneaded Luo Hai’s scalp. “It wasn’t until I pulled you inside that you finally took out a squashed persimmon from your pocket and silently stuffed it into my hand.”
Maybe it was the fever, but Luo Hai’s hearing wasn’t as sharp as usual. Eugene’s voice reached his ears like a dream, hazy and distant.
Outside, the rain continued, monotonously pattering against the window like tiny snakes slithering down the glass. The treetops swayed in the wind, and the streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, leaving behind lonely shadows.
“How bored do you have to be to remember all this useless stuff?”
Luo Hai’s voice was as indifferent as ever, but his flushed cheeks and slightly uneven breaths made it less convincing.
“Useless? No way.” Eugene let out a soft laugh. “Those were the most precious memories of my life.”
With that, he grasped Luo Hai’s hand and leaned in closer.
“One spring, when the courtyard was full of blooming peach blossoms, you made a bet with me. We raced around the yard to see who could run into the chicken coop first. The loser had to grant the winner one request. Do you still remember?”
The moment Eugene finished speaking, Luo Hai’s pupils contracted sharply.
With sudden strength from who-knows-where, he jerked his hand free, his expression turning ice-cold, as frigid as a frozen lake in midwinter.
“I don’t have the time to remember every stupid thing you say. If you’re really that bored, go mop the floor.”
“So harsh.” Eugene laughed. “I’m very domesticated, you know. I already mopped this afternoon.”
“Then take out the trash.” Luo Hai’s gaze was razor-sharp. “And clean the place again.”
Eugene sighed, standing up with a dramatic groan. “Fine, fine, got it, Mom.”
Before leaving, he wiped Luo Hai’s forehead one last time, placed water and medicine on the bedside table, then turned off the lights and walked out of the bedroom.
In the darkness, Luo Hai watched Eugene’s figure disappear into the rain. Even after the door had been shut for a long while, he remained staring at it before finally turning away and closing his eyes.
