FRGL chapter 15

Deep down, Luo Hai was a very stubborn person.

In his 29 years of life, there were very few things he would admit to.

Five years ago, he made a typo in an indictment. When Colin pointed it out, he calmly said it was a printing error.

Three years ago, he accidentally sent a document meant for the finance department to HR instead. When it was returned, he smoothly blamed it on a clerical mix-up from another department. His expression was so convincing that no one questioned him.

But now, he had to admit—agreeing to Flock’s invitation to the dinner might have been the worst decision of his life.

His lack of social interaction with colleagues wasn’t just due to his solitary nature. The bigger reason was that he was an unstable Omega using medication to suppress his pheromones. Working long-term in an Alpha-dominated environment had already taken a toll on his body.

After work, he needed time to breathe—to have a safe, quiet space where he could piece himself back together.

And he had seriously underestimated his colleagues.

He thought the dinner would be a simple gathering at a restaurant—just a meal, some drinks, a bit of idle chatter, and they’d wrap up in two hours.

Instead, the moment they stepped into the venue, they grabbed microphones and ordered a case of beer before even starting the grill.

By the time the food was ready, most of them were already tipsy, dragging each other up to dance.

The rich scent of grilled meat, the flashing neon lights of the dimly lit private room, the booming speakers, the loud chatter and laughter of his colleagues—

For people escaping their stressful workloads for a night of fun, it was a great mood booster.

For an unstable Omega, it was unbearable.

The greasy smell of barbecue made him nauseous. The mix of alcohol and Alpha pheromones in the air suffocated him. The deafening music from the karaoke system pounded relentlessly against his eardrums, making his temples throb in pain.

“Enough drinking for now!” Flock clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’re here to celebrate Prosecutor Luo Hai! Who’s the best prosecutor in the office?”

A whistle sounded.

“Luo Hai!”

“Who caught the leader of the Lightwing Society and lowered this month’s Omega crime rate to a historic low?”

“Luo Hai!” The group echoed, laughing.

“And who’s the most Alpha Alpha in the prosecution office?” Flock grinned.

“Luo Hai!” Colin, now drunk, shouted the loudest among them.

Flock laughed and handed Luo Hai the microphone. “So, our most Alpha Alpha—do you have anything to say? You’ve been zoning out for half an hour now.”

All eyes turned to Luo Hai, waiting for him to speak.

After a brief silence, Luo Hai stood up, his expression unchanged.

“I’m going to the restroom,” he said, then turned and walked out without waiting for a response.

His head was pounding, a sharp, drilling pain stabbing into his skull. His chest felt unbearably heavy, as if a thousand-pound weight was pressing down on him. Just being in that cramped room made his stomach churn violently.

He barely made it into a bathroom stall before vomiting everything out.

But in reality, he hadn’t eaten a single bite of barbecue. All he expelled was stomach acid and bile.

He closed his eyes, taking a long moment to compose himself, suppressing the dizziness and nausea. Then, he flushed the toilet, walked to the sink, and rinsed his mouth with cold water, splashing his face to clear his head.

The sound of running water drowned out the ringing in his ears. Cold tap water splashed against his skin, but it did nothing to ease his feverish body temperature or his worsening headache.

“I think what you did just now was pretty inconsiderate, Prosecutor Luo Hai.”

A voice came from behind. Luo Hai turned off the faucet and looked back. A tall female Alpha stood there, frowning with an annoyed expression.

She was one of the colleagues who attended the gathering—Daina.

“Flock arranged this gathering for you, yet after you arrived, you just sat there like a mute, neither eating nor drinking. Fine, whatever. But then, when he tried to liven things up for you, afraid that you’d feel left out, what did you do? Not only did you refuse his kindness, but you also deliberately embarrassed him.”

Luo Hai said nothing.

“You treat people like this when they’re nice to you?” Daina said irritably. “No wonder you’ve never been promoted all these years. What kind of idiot would recommend you?”

Luo Hai looked at her calmly. “First of all, you’re not my superior, so you have no right to judge my career. Second, if promotions were based on your criteria, the highest-ranking official in the prosecutor’s office would be Huahua, the cat.”

Daina was momentarily speechless.

“If you have the time to worry about other people’s careers, you might as well focus on your own work,” Luo Hai said indifferently. “If you could properly complete your tasks, Flock wouldn’t have to put on a smile and beg me to finish that report for you.”

Daina’s face turned red, then pale, before she angrily snapped, “You’re just a cold-blooded, heartless freak! No wonder no one in the office wants to deal with you!”

With that, she stormed off.

Luo Hai silently watched her disappearing figure. The empty restroom was once again left with only him.

His headache and nausea had not improved—if anything, they had worsened. What he needed wasn’t his colleagues’ concern but a direct dose of medication.

Maybe two doses. Or three.

For some reason, he took out his phone to check. Eugene still hadn’t replied to his message. His inbox remained empty.

Supporting himself against the wall, Luo Hai slowly walked out of the restaurant. With his head pounding and his body feeling like it was falling apart, he trudged along the sidewalk toward his apartment.

The overcast sky began to drizzle, the raindrops dampening the dry pavement. Before long, the rain grew heavier, sending pedestrians scurrying for cover while cars sped up on the wet streets. Luo Hai’s shirt was soon soaked through.

It seemed the saying “misfortunes never come singly” was quite literal after all.

He couldn’t risk taking a taxi while his medication was wearing off, nor could he let his colleagues catch even the slightest hint of his condition.

He had to endure it. Even though his mind, on the verge of splitting apart, could no longer understand why he was still holding on.

That stubborn thought was like a steel nail embedded in his skull. Even as immense exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, even as he became nothing more than a walking corpse, he forced himself forward, relentlessly, until he reached his goal.

Nausea surged up again, and Luo Hai had to reach out to the nearby railing, forcing himself to suppress the awful sensation. But the moment he stopped moving, his aching limbs could no longer support his heavy body.

He was already so close to his apartment—close enough to see the front door.

Yet, the last short distance felt harder than climbing a mountain. His legs grew heavier and heavier, refusing to take another step no matter how hard he tried. His vision blurred in the rain, and it became increasingly difficult to stay conscious.

Just as he closed his eyes, he vaguely heard footsteps approaching through the rain.

Maybe a colleague who had noticed something was off. Maybe a passerby concerned about his condition. But with his medication on the verge of wearing off, any Alpha with a nose would immediately detect something unusual about him.

He had to find a way to get back to his apartment without anyone discovering his true gender. He had to…

But he was so tired.

Why did he always have to be this tired?

Why couldn’t he give up just once?

Couldn’t he rest, just this once?

The person approaching stopped in front of him, and then something shielded his head, blocking the cold rain.

A familiar voice spoke.

“Well, well, look who we have here—what a pitiful little drenched cat.

Eugene Oddis crouched down in front of him, the usual playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Turns out it’s our very own Prosecutor Luo Hai.”

Luo Hai struggled to lift his head, rainwater trickling down his forehead and dripping onto his already-soaked shirt.

For a moment, he couldn’t think of a sharp comeback.

Staring at Eugene’s face, now so close, the first thought that jumped out of his muddled brain slipped from his lips.

“Why didn’t you reply to my message?”

Eugene’s lips curved. “Did it matter that much to you?”

“No,” Luo Hai said.

“Liar.” Eugene chuckled. “You’ve been a liar since you were a kid. When Aunt Ai’s vase got smashed, you insisted it was a giant rat.”

“It was a giant rat,” Luo Hai muttered through his splitting headache, barely aware of what he was saying. “Bigger than both my hands put together.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” Eugene extended a hand toward him. “Come on, I’ll carry you back.”

Luo Hai didn’t move.

Eugene didn’t ask again. Instead, he simply set the umbrella down, reached under Luo Hai’s legs, and effortlessly lifted him onto his back.

The rain was freezing, but Luo Hai’s body burned with fever.

Eugene picked up the umbrella and handed it to Luo Hai, who instinctively grasped it.

Then, without another word, Eugene carried him forward, avoiding the crowds and taking the smaller paths until they reached the apartment.

Even after Luo Hai was placed onto his bed, his foggy mind struggled to process what had happened.

The world around him melted into a blur, but Eugene’s blond hair remained clear, gleaming like shards of light in a kaleidoscope.

He reached out, trying to grasp those dazzling fragments, but they slipped through his fingers.

Then, a hand caught his.

“What do you need?” Eugene asked.

“The injection,” Luo Hai rasped. “Bottom drawer of the nightstand, third one.”

Eugene pulled open the drawer and found a box of individually wrapped syringes. He lowered his head to sniff them—an artificial Alpha pheromone scent hit him immediately.

There was no label, no brand name. It was clearly not an officially distributed medication. The production date was recent, yet more than half the box was already empty, leaving only two or three syringes inside.

Luo Hai took a syringe from him, biting his sleeve to roll it up and exposing his pale forearm.

His skin was filled with bruises and puncture marks, a shocking sight.

His hands trembled violently from fever and dizziness, but he still didn’t hesitate to press the needle against his vein—until Eugene caught his wrist.

“Give it to me,” Eugene sighed, his voice low and gentle. “Let me do it.”