The road home was no different from usual.
At the end of the street, the blinding sunset cast golden light across the horizon. In the distance, the Nantes River reflected the sunlight, its shimmering waves like scattered fragments of glass.
The wind rustled the branches of a persimmon tree by the riverbank, casting dappled shadows on someone’s shoulder.
Luo Hai stopped walking.
Eugene was sitting in that very tree, lazily leaning against the trunk. His long legs dangled in the air, and in his hand was a half-eaten persimmon.
Seeing Luo Hai, Eugene immediately beckoned him over. “Come up here! The view is incredible!”
Luo Hai frowned. “No.”
Eugene held up the persimmon. “Seriously, it’s amazing. And this persimmon—best one I’ve ever had.”
Luo Hai looked at him with reluctance. “No.”
Eugene clicked his tongue. “Come on, don’t pretend with me. When we were kids, you were the best tree climber—I learned from you, remember?”
He patted the branch beneath him. “Get up here.”
Luo Hai had a thousand reasons to refuse.
He didn’t want to dirty his newly bought suit.
He was exhausted after a long day of work.
It would look strange for two grown men to sit in a tree.
They had long since grown up—they were no longer children.
But in the end, he said nothing. He raised his hand, grasped a tree branch to test its sturdiness, and then stepped onto the trunk.
Muscle memory was a strange thing. Despite the years that had passed, despite how much he had grown, the rough texture of the bark and the swaying of the branches still felt familiar.
The whole process was easier than he expected. In the end, Eugene reached out and gave his hand a gentle pull, and just like that, Luo Hai was sitting on the branches of the persimmon tree.
The tree canopy rustled, but the thick branches easily bore the weight of both of them.
“Look, isn’t it beautiful?” Eugene said with a smile.
Luo Hai gazed into the distance. From here, the entire Nantes River stretched out before them. The setting sun reflected perfectly on the water’s surface, as if the whole world had been dyed in blood.
“The persimmons taste good too.” Eugene held out the half-eaten fruit in his hand. “Want a bite?”
Luo Hai glanced at it once. “I’m not interested in your saliva.”
Eugene laughed. “You sure didn’t mind during the heat of passion. Hypocrite.”
Luo Hai averted his gaze indifferently. Eugene didn’t press further.
For a few minutes, they simply sat there, watching the river and the sunset, letting the cool evening breeze lift the hems of their clothes.
Then, Luo Hai spoke casually, “The Lightwing Society’s hideout in Nantes Square has been breached.”
Eugene was silent for a long time before he finally said softly, “I see.”
His expression was calm and indifferent. From his face, Luo Hai couldn’t tell whether he had already expected this.
“Your member list, the locations of your other hideouts, and your next move—everything has been exposed. All 14 members were arrested. No one escaped. Whatever method you were using to contact them, it’s over now.”
Luo Hai’s eyes were cold and ruthless. “With this information, I can quickly organize the next sweep. Within half a month, the Lightwing Society will be completely wiped from existence.”
This time, Eugene was silent for even longer. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting shadows on his face. Then suddenly, he let out a self-mocking laugh, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.
“So I lost.”
“Yes,” Luo Hai said calmly. “You lost.”
From the moment Eugene was imprisoned, whatever he had been plotting, he was doomed to fail.
His so-called ideals and beliefs were nothing more than fragile illusions before the iron grip of absolute power.
Luo Hai had foreseen this outcome from the very beginning—the moment he first saw Eugene’s name on the police report.
And yet, his heart still ached, a dull pain spreading like a slow-acting poison through his veins, his nerves, seeping into every muscle and inch of skin.
Eugene Oddis could have lived a perfect life as an Alpha.
He could have found a respectable job in Nantes and met Luo Hai again under normal circumstances.
They could have run into each other by the fountain in Nantes Square, chatted in a café, bickered in a clothing store.
They could have strolled side by side along the Nantes River, embracing, kissing, watching the sunrise and sunset together, playing duets of their favorite pieces.
But instead, he chose to abandon all of it.
He chose to stand on the opposite side.
He chose to let things spiral into the worst possible ending.
“Eugene Oddis.”
Luo Hai fixed his gaze on the Alpha’s handsome face, suppressing the faint tremor in his voice as he asked, enunciating each word, “Why did you have to become a terrorist?”
Eugene let out a soft chuckle, tossing the persimmon into the air and catching it again. His voice was light, almost careless, as he repeated the question he had once asked before:
“Then why did you become a prosecutor, Luo Hai?”
“Because I was weak!”
Luo Hai’s voice suddenly rose.
“Because weak people can’t survive in this world! Because this world is never fair, never kind! The only thing that decides everything is absolute power! Weak people can’t even protect themselves—let alone the people around them!”
His dark eyes burned with anger, with indifference, and with something else—something impossible to put into words.
“If I hadn’t differentiated as an Omega… If Aunt Ai hadn’t been stupid enough to try and hide my secondary gender… Then Doyle wouldn’t have investigated the orphanage! And if he hadn’t, then the fire wouldn’t have happened, and everyone wouldn’t have died! Omegas—this weak, useless gender—should never have existed in the first place!”
Eugene watched Luo Hai silently, saying nothing for a long time.
The wind rustled the treetops. The sun sank beneath the horizon. The waters of the Nantes River darkened.
At last, the blond-haired Alpha spoke.
“Do you know how many Omegas throw themselves into the Nantes River every year?”
Luo Hai remained silent.
“No one has ever counted, because no one cares. The businessmen don’t care—when the suicide rate goes up, the remaining Omegas become more valuable. The government doesn’t care—fewer Omegas mean lower management costs and higher taxes. The Alphas who marked them don’t care—after all, they can collect the insurance payout and just buy a better one.”
“Every year, countless Omegas take their own lives in this river, and no one cares about their deaths. No one retrieves their bodies. If you dive to the very bottom, you’ll see the riverbed piled with decades of white bones. And now you’re saying… it’s just because they were too weak, so they deserved to die? Or are you saying that because you were too weak… you deserve to spend the rest of your life drowning in guilt, struggling, and suffering?”
Eugene finished speaking and tossed the half-eaten persimmon into the river.
It hit the water with a soft plop, sending ripples across the surface.
“You ask why I became a terrorist?” Eugene turned his head and looked at Luo Hai, his expression calm. “Isn’t the reason obvious by now?”
“Because this society turned the most important person in my life into a monster.
And I have no choice but to fight against it to the very end.”
Luo Hai’s pupils contracted.
He suddenly stood up, looking down at Eugene with icy eyes.
“There really is nothing left to say between us.”
With that, he jumped down from the tree.
His boots landed on dry, brittle leaves, breaking the silence with a sharp, crisp sound.
Eugene’s gaze never left Luo Hai’s back. The lingering glow of the sunset cast long shadows over his legs, veiling his face in darkness, making him appear like a lonely wandering soul from afar.
……
That night, no one spoke.
Luo Hai processed a few reports, answered several calls, and coordinated with the head of the criminal police while enduring his passive-aggressive complaints. By the time he confirmed all the necessary tasks, it was already past midnight.
Eugene was still awake—Luo Hai could hear the sound of a violin coming from his room.
The melody was long and lingering; he was playing that nocturne again. But perhaps because there was no piano accompaniment, the violin’s tone felt even more lonely and piercing, far from being beautiful.
Luo Hai stood up from his desk and walked toward the door. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, the music abruptly stopped, and silence filled the air once more.
He stood quietly by the door for a while, but the violin never played again. The entire apartment was unnervingly quiet, with only the sound of the wind outside and the distant cries of stray cats.
He let go of the doorknob.
……
That night, it rained, and by dawn, it had yet to stop.
The sky was dark and heavy, the thick clouds pressing low. The rain wasn’t too heavy nor too light, just a constant, steady drizzle tapping against the ground. A misty veil covered the entire city, blurring the figures of pedestrians and vehicles passing by.
Luo Hai had just stepped into his office, barely managing to shake the rain off his umbrella, when Colin blocked his way.
“Boss! The police station just sent in a report. They’ve confirmed all the clues found at Nantes Square yesterday. Director Kliman says we’ll start the meeting as soon as everyone arrives to discuss the next phase of the operation.”
Luo Hai set his umbrella down and wiped the rain from his hands. “Got it.”
“It hasn’t been easy.” Colin smiled. “After investigating for so long, we’re finally getting somewhere. Once this is over, you’ll finally get to rest… You don’t look well. Did you not sleep last night?”
“I slept fine. Don’t overthink it.” Luo Hai replied coolly. “Go ahead to the conference room. I’ll be there soon.”
Colin didn’t press further, simply nodding before leaving.
Luo Hai tossed the report onto his desk and pulled open a drawer to grab a new pen. Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed shattered ceramic pieces scattered across the floor near his desk.
The window had been left slightly open. At some point during the night, the northern wind must have knocked over the old vase that had been sitting on the windowsill.
The fragments had been lying there all night, unnoticed.
