When Hu Zi lay on his back snoring on the bed, a sharp sound of iron chains dragging across the ground interrupted the silence. Then came the creak of the prison’s rusty iron door opening.
“Get in!” The prison guard’s voice was as rough as his actions. Someone stumbled a few steps, and the chains clanged more piercingly, disturbing any chance of peace.
Hu Zi squinted one eye and glanced toward the cell door. A young man in his twenties, wearing handcuffs and shackles, was shoved in by the guard. He had frivolous blond curls, prominent cheekbones, a high nose bridge, and eyebrows like slender willow leaves that seemed ready to fly off his face at the slightest breeze.
“First of all, my legs are perfectly fine—not broken, not lame—I can walk on my own,” the young man began complaining as soon as he steadied himself. “Secondly, Article 7, Section 3 of the Alpha Protection Act explicitly states that even criminal Alphas are entitled to basic Alpha rights, including but not limited to privacy, property ownership, and the right to dignity—”
Before he could finish, the guard interrupted with a sneer, “Give me a break. You, an Alpha?”
“A disgrace to Alphas,” another guard spat disdainfully at the young man’s feet, not hiding his contempt.
With that, the guards locked the cell door and left without looking back.
The clanging of metal echoed in the empty underground space, and the narrow, dim prison suddenly grew livelier. The blond-haired man could feel the curious or hostile gazes coming at him from the surrounding cells.
Of course, the strongest gaze came from none other than Hu Zi, his cellmate—a mountain of fat sprawled on the bed.
“I heard a new guy was coming today, but I didn’t expect such a pretty boy.” Hu Zi’s small eyes, embedded in his layers of fat, gleamed as they scrutinized the blond-haired man from head to toe like searchlights. “Did your mom eat too many rotten bananas when she was pregnant and squeeze out a freak like you?”
Laughter erupted around the cellblock. The prisoners in the opposite cells banged on their iron bars and whistled at the blond-haired man.
The blond-haired man remained calm, showing none of the usual reactions to being insulted. Unhurriedly, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a thin piece of wire, and fiddled with the locks on his handcuffs and shackles. Within moments, the bothersome restraints were off.
“First of all, my mom had a normal, full-term delivery. Secondly, bananas don’t have dyeing properties,” he said, pointing at his blond hair. “This color is natural.”
Hu Zi was stunned for a moment, then burst into even louder laughter, joined by the surrounding prisoners.
“Are you stupid or what?” Hu Zi laughed so hard he could barely catch his breath. “How’d you end up in here? Did you bore someone to death outside?”
“Hmm, close enough,” the blond-haired man replied casually, opening the drawers of a nearby table one by one.
It was evident that Hu Zi had been living quite comfortably in prison. The drawers were stocked with snacks, three different brands of cigarettes, and even a sturdy bundle of rope, likely stolen from a guard.
The blond-haired man untied the rope and tossed one end over the beam in the ceiling.
Hu Zi stood up from the bed and spat on the ground. His massive frame was indeed intimidating; his bulk could fit two or three full-grown Alphas.
“Listen here, pretty boy,” Hu Zi sneered. “Stop playing dumb with me. This isn’t the kind of prison just anyone can waltz into. Now, spill it: your name, your crime, and how you got here. Do it while I’m in a good mood, or else—”
The blond-haired man abruptly laughed.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help imagining what you’d look like in a bad mood,” he said, chuckling as he gestured with his hands. “Would you puff up like a balloon, your fat stretching tight, and then float away like Aunt Marge in Harry Potter?”
Hu Zi’s face turned beet red. “You little punk, you’re asking for it!” he roared as he swung a punch at the blond-haired man.
Quick as a flash, the blond-haired man stepped on Hu Zi’s pants, causing him to trip and fall. Then, with a sharp tug on the rope in his hands, Hu Zi was hoisted into the air, hanging upside down from the ceiling beam.
As the filthy hem of his clothes slapped against his face, Hu Zi had no idea when the rope had been tied into a dead knot around his ankles.
The prisoners in the other cells erupted into cheers and roars louder than before.
“Eugene Oddis,” the blond-haired said. “You can call me Eugene, Oddis, or even Sweetheart Eugene—I’m not picky about names.”
His words silenced the cheers and jeers for a few seconds, plunging the room into an awkward quiet.
But Eugene didn’t care. He opened a drawer, bypassed the cigarette packs, and picked up a lollipop. He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.
The first to break the silence was Hu Zi, who was now red-faced from the blood rushing to his head. He began to curse, “It’s you! You son of a bitch—Alpha scum! Spineless bastard—”
Eugene didn’t say a word. Instead, he delivered a hard kick to Hu Zi’s crotch.
He was wearing thick-soled leather boots, and the blow sent Hu Zi into a shrieking cry like a pig being slaughtered.
“Did your mother save all the nutrients for the placenta when she had you? Even a pig that ate your placenta would be more polite than you,” Eugene said, dragging a chair over and sitting down with his legs crossed.
In the next moment, a gleaming silver dagger appeared in his hand. Its sharp edge glinted menacingly under the dim light.
“Say, ‘I apologize for insulting you. Please forgive my rudeness,'” Eugene demanded.
Someone from a nearby cell shouted, “Stab him!” The brief silence was replaced by excited betting, as prisoners placed wagers on who would win this clash.
Hu Zi’s face twisted in rage. “I’ll never—”
Before he could finish, Eugene’s dagger flew, pinning Hu Zi’s beard to the wall just a few millimeters from his neck.
That was enough to make Hu Zi lose all pretense of bravado. His face turned pale, and he stammered, “I—I’m sorry for insulting you. P-please forgive my rudeness…”
The mocking jeers and boos surged like a tidal wave. Eugene stood up, retrieved his dagger, and leaned forward slightly, his light-colored eyes glinting with amusement.
“I don’t accept,” he said.
The dagger’s tip inched toward Hu Zi, who could almost see his life flashing before his eyes. But at that moment, the sound of footsteps and guards shouting came from the hallway.
“What’s going on here? Quiet down!”
The commotion had obviously drawn the guards’ attention. Two burly Alpha guards banged on Eugene’s cell bars with their batons, the deafening noise silencing the prisoners.
Eugene paused, but not because of the guards or their weapons. His gaze was drawn to the man standing behind them.
Luo Hai was still dressed in the same tailored suit he had worn in court, its fine fabric emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean proportions.
But his eyes remained cold and emotionless, like inorganic gemstones reflecting faint light without any warmth.
Separated by the iron bars and two guards, Eugene locked eyes with him.
Neither spoke, nor did they look away, until a guard’s shout broke the silence.
“What are you doing? Let him down now!” one of the guards barked, shocked.
Seizing the opportunity, Hu Zi whimpered pitifully, hoping to emphasize his victimhood.
Eugene clicked his tongue, spun the dagger in his hand, and slashed the rope. Hu Zi crashed to the ground like a sack of flour.
“You—hanging your cellmate and threatening him with a knife! Where the hell did you get that knife?” one guard demanded furiously.
Eugene maintained his casual, half-smiling demeanor. “What are you going to do? Add more charges to someone scheduled for execution in a week?”
The guard was left speechless, glaring at the defiant death row inmate.
“Move him to a solitary cell,” Luo Hai said calmly.
His voice drew attention. Many prisoners, noticing him for the first time, turned their eyes to the sharply dressed man.
The guard hesitated. “But the warden said only special cases warrant cell transfers—”
“He is a special case,” Luo Hai replied.
The guard nodded and hurried off to inform the warden.
Luo Hai’s gaze lingered on Eugene for a few seconds before he turned and left. His footsteps echoed in the empty prison, and Eugene’s eyes followed him until he disappeared around a corner.
Hours later, the guards returned to escort Eugene out of the cell. Hu Zi visibly relaxed and began shouting profanities from behind.
Eugene, along with a bald prisoner from a nearby cell—rumored to have crippled three cellmates in a week—was transferred to solitary confinement.
The bald man leaned closer, intrigued. “That handsome guy who came earlier… Was he Prosecutor Luo Hai? Do you know him?”
Eugene chuckled, glancing at him. “I thought everyone knew him. At least a third of the prisoners here were put away by him.”
“I don’t know him, but I’ve heard of him,” the bald man said with a grin. “So, do you two have some kind of relationship? I saw you staring at him the whole time.”
“We do,” Eugene said lightly. “He’s my husband.”
The bald man choked on his own spit, coughing violently before managing to croak out, “What?”
“Oops, did I say ‘husband’ just now?” Eugene replied with a cheerful laugh. “I meant to say ‘archenemy.’”
1
Author’s Note
This story takes place 50 years after the events of Omega Manual.
Set in a world where there’s a stark power imbalance between Alphas and Omegas.
No trigger warnings are provided. If you’re concerned about potentially upsetting content, please assume this story contains all possible triggers.
