The snow turned red. Luo Hai’s mind went blank for a moment, his ears buzzing with the lingering echo of the gunshot.
For a fleeting instant, he didn’t know how to react.
Then, suddenly, someone grabbed his wrist and forcefully pulled him away from the scene. Luo Hai turned to see an older Alpha, likely in his fifties.
“What the hell are you doing?” The older Alpha looked at him disapprovingly. “Getting involved in this kind of mess? Do you have a death wish?”
Luo Hai was silent for a moment before responding, “I’m a prosecutor.”
“That’s even more reason to be careful,” the older man lowered his voice. “They’ve all lost their minds—something’s not right. They’re not just investigating Omegas; they’re targeting Alphas who try to protect them too. If you speak up for an Omega right now, you’ll be in serious trouble.”
The Omega’s corpse was quickly dragged away, leaving a long trail in the snow. But the blood had already seeped into the cracks between the bricks, gleaming vividly under the sunlight.
Luo Hai didn’t even remember how he managed to thank the older man, how he left the scene, or how he walked through the city past one patrol squad after another, heading straight for the prosecutor’s office.
Luo Hai had always prided himself on being a rational man.
No matter what kind of torment or situation he had faced over the years, he had always been able to suppress his personal emotions and respond with the coldest, most logical approach.
But this time, he couldn’t do it.
He stormed into the office building like a gust of wind, not even bothering to shake the snow from his shoes. He took the stairs two at a time, his pace relentless.
He ignored everyone he passed, heading straight for Colette Doyle’s office.
He didn’t even knock—just burst straight in.
Doyle was sitting in his executive chair, leisurely reading a newspaper. On the balcony, a few potted plants sat neatly in place, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across the spacious desk.
Hearing the commotion, he raised an eyebrow, lowered his newspaper slightly, and looked at Luo Hai, who had suddenly barged in.
“Kliman has ordered all Omegas to stay indoors for investigation. Any Omega found on the streets is to be executed immediately,” Luo Hai stated bluntly. “What kind of reasoning is this?”
Doyle glanced at Luo Hai, then at the bloodstains on the hem of his suit. Without haste, he said, “If I remember correctly, you’re no longer in charge of the Lightwing case, are you?”
“This has nothing to do with whether I’m in charge or not!” Luo Hai raised his voice slightly. “Kliman’s actions are absurd! Massacring Omegas won’t help the investigation into Lightwing in any way! These Omegas are just ordinary city residents—they haven’t committed any crimes or caused any trouble! You can’t allow Kliman to continue this madness!”
Doyle stared at him for a moment, then calmly folded up his newspaper and set it aside.
“Luo Hai, you’ve been investigating the Lightwing case for a long time. There’s one thing you should be more aware of than anyone else,” Doyle said. “Before they’re exposed, Lightwing spies are just ordinary city residents.”
Luo Hai’s pupils constricted in an instant.
He had been too impulsive, too naive.
Shocked by the execution he had just witnessed, he had lost his usual rationality and ability to think clearly.
The moment he learned the order came from Kliman, his mind had been consumed with stopping her foolish actions, completely forgetting that Kliman was Doyle’s right-hand woman. Any action she took, any order she gave—none of it could have been carried out without Doyle’s approval.
And he had been foolish enough to come pleading before the true mastermind.
Doyle’s tone remained unhurried. “Have you been keeping up with the news lately?”
“A little,” Luo Hai forced out two syllables.
“Since Oddis escaped with the inhibitors, public confidence in law enforcement has plummeted. The top priority right now is to restore their trust and prevent widespread panic. Even you should understand that maintaining social stability is far more important than a few Omega lives.”
After speaking, Doyle cast a calm glance at Luo Hai. “And the reason things have come to this point… is because of your failure.”
Luo Hai stood frozen, saying nothing.
Doyle always spoke concisely, never stating everything outright. He would drop a hint, letting the rest of the meaning hide within his indifferent gaze and the nearly eternal pauses, leaving others to figure it out themselves.
“Besides, don’t you find Omegas annoying?”
Doyle spoke slowly, taking out a clean handkerchief and carefully wiping his steel pen until it gleamed under the sunlight. “Like hens, constantly laying eggs all day long, with nothing in their heads but mating and reproduction. Other than producing more little bastards to consume society’s resources, what use do they have? The more of them that die, the better for society. Don’t you agree?”
Luo Hai was speechless—he couldn’t even form words.
The threat and insinuation in Doyle’s words were so obvious that there was nothing more to say.
Six years of relative freedom had made Luo Hai forget he was living in a cage, forget that he had always been someone else’s pawn, forget that with just a flick of Doyle’s fingers, he could end up just like that Omega—dying on the street at any moment.
Luo Hai closed his eyes, turned slowly, and walked toward the office door.
Just as he was about to step over the threshold, Doyle called out to him.
“Forgot the rules?” The voice was soft but chilling.
Luo Hai froze in place.
Long ago, Doyle had set many rules. But as Luo Hai’s work gradually stabilized, those rules had stopped being mentioned, and their relationship had started to resemble that of a normal superior and subordinate.
But Luo Hai had forgotten—Doyle always had the right to reinstate any rule at any time.
It felt as if cotton had lodged in Luo Hai’s throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, but in the end, he turned around and gave Doyle a deep bow.
…..
Enyouge did not come to work.
Aside from that, the prosecutor’s office was the same as usual—no visible changes.
Kliman, who had always been somewhat arrogant, was now the leading figure among the prosecutors, Doyle’s favored subordinate. With two or three assistants in tow, she strode pompously through the floors, barging into offices to issue commands, ordering all prosecutors to assist in her sweeping investigation of the Lightwing Society.
Although Flock and the others didn’t like the arrogant Kliman, they all knew that Kliman had Doyle backing her, so they had no choice but to actively assist.
After all, everyone was aware that Doyle valued the Lightwing case. If they could make contributions to the investigation and earn his favor, a promotion and raise would be just around the corner.
…
During lunch break, a group gathered in the break room for casual conversation, their voices loud enough for the entire floor to hear.
“I support a full-scale search,” Bray said. “Those are a bunch of vicious extremists. Just thinking about them hiding among gentle, well-behaved Omegas sends chills down my spine.”
“Honestly, this should’ve been done long ago,” Flock sighed. “Luo Hai’s methods were way too soft. He investigated for two or three months and found nothing, and in the end, somehow let the terrorist leader escape. If we had conducted these searches earlier, Oddis’ forces would’ve been wiped out by now. I really don’t know what the chief prosecutor was thinking, handing this case to Luo Hai in the first place.”
“But with this kind of search, aren’t some innocent Omegas bound to die?” Barney glanced out the window, concerned. “What about the economic losses for their owners?”
“Don’t worry about that. Everyone buys insurance now. Compensation is the insurance company’s problem,” Bray waved his hand dismissively. “Their owners are probably hoping their Omegas get shot—after all, the payout is enough to buy two more.”
“But at this rate, won’t the number of Omegas keep decreasing?” Flock rubbed his chin in thought. “Maybe I should hurry and buy two now. In a few months, the prices might skyrocket.”
Luo Hai didn’t participate in any of the prosecutors’ conversations, nor was he assigned any tasks by Kliman.
It was as if everyone had forgotten about him. He simply remained quietly in the most secluded corner of the third floor.
The citywide search of all Omegas in Nantes lasted an entire week.
Every Omega’s room and personal belongings were thoroughly inspected. If an Omega was found to have browsed newspapers or news related to the Lightwing group or inhibitors, they were immediately arrested. Any resistance resulted in instant execution.
This measure was met with cheers from most Alphas. Banners supporting the prosecution office were raised all over the streets, and many stores used their support for Alpha rights as a selling point, offering discounts on products.
Betas, who originally paid little attention to AO conflicts, became curious due to the changes in the streets and the voices around them. They started reading newspapers and browsing online for details. Online discussions praised Kliman’s firm approach, hailing it as the most successful Alpha rights movement in history.
Overnight, articles and comments condemning Omegas flooded the internet, as if all the misfortunes in people’s lives were caused by Omegas.
Didn’t get a promotion? It’s because Omegas distracted Alphas from their work.
Failed to get into a prestigious school? It’s because Omegas reproduce too much, making competition fiercer every year.
Late for work? Traffic congestion? Overcrowded cities? It’s all because of Omegas going into heat at random times and disrupting transportation.
Most importantly, unlike everyone else who had to study and work hard, Omegas could live comfortably without lifting a finger—just by using their bodies to please Alphas. Meanwhile, others had to spend their hard-earned money to buy Omegas! This was an unforgivable privilege!
Omegas already had so many societal privileges, yet they still wanted more, even going as far as joining rebel groups. Their insatiable greed for more rights was sheer lawlessness!
The investigation turned into a frenzy. People seemed to forget why the search had started in the first place. They only remembered their hatred for Omegas, their supposed wickedness, and that all Omegas deserved to die.
Betas reported the Omegas owned by Alphas. Alphas reported other Alphas’ Omegas. Even Omegas turned on each other.
In such a massive purge, any Alpha or Beta who spoke up for Omegas was immediately labeled a Lightwing sympathizer and attacked by the masses.
By the end of the weeklong investigation, a total of 2,138 Omegas had been arrested in Nantes.
More than 200 were executed on the spot.
The rest were all sent to the Omega prison in Nantes.
Coincidentally, all the cells there had just been emptied.
