Luo Hai’s response was to give Eugene the coldest glare possible before walking away.
But even Luo Hai had to admit—ever since Eugene moved in, the place had been much better maintained.
The living room curtains had been taken down and washed spotless. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer drapes, casting a glow on the dust-free coffee table and polished floors. Everything was neatly arranged, the dining table was covered with a tablecloth, and in the upper right corner sat a vase with two fresh, vibrant flowers.
Only now did Luo Hai truly grasp the depth of Eugene’s absurdly broad skill set. He was an expert at creating an atmosphere, at pleasing people—just like how he always knew the right words to skillfully pluck at a person’s heartstrings.
If he hadn’t changed careers, he would undoubtedly be a top-tier superstar by now, adored by fans worldwide, raking in an endless stream of money.
But instead, he was a lunatic—choosing to become an anti-social terrorist, ultimately playing with fire and dragging himself into the abyss.
Of course, the man himself was completely oblivious to this irony.
“I made you an omelet and a croissant,” Eugene emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of delicious-looking food and placed it in front of Luo Hai. “Alright, fine—the croissant is store-bought. The omelet is because there was basically nothing left in the house except two eggs. I made it this morning and waited for you to wake up, but you just slept straight through till now. You even skipped lunch.”
“I never asked you to make me breakfast. You did that on your own.” Despite his words, Luo Hai still picked up his fork and put a piece of the omelet into his mouth.
“You always wake up this late on Sundays?” Eugene asked.
“No, today was because you woke me up,” Luo Hai replied. “Normally, I’d sleep straight through until two or three in the afternoon.”
Eugene widened his eyes in surprise. “Prosecutor, do you never sleep on workdays?”
“Pulling multiple all-nighters in a row is common,” Luo Hai said. “Not to mention, I’m also busy cleaning up the mess you and your little organization left behind.”
Luo Hai was clearly trying to maintain his usual cold and serious tone, but he couldn’t help yawning at the end, which completely softened any threat in his voice.
He looked completely disheveled from sleep—his collar was loose with several buttons undone, his hair was unstyled, and a stubborn tuft at the back of his head stuck up, swaying slightly with his movements as he ate.
Eugene couldn’t hold back a laugh.
The usually icy Prosecutor Luo Hai now looked like a sulky little animal—fluffy, adorable, and making people want to ruffle his hair.
Luo Hai, as usual, ignored him, finishing his long-overdue breakfast at a leisurely pace before standing up from the table.
“What did you say you needed to buy?”
“Flour, rice, some vegetables that aren’t available around here, plus shampoo and body wash,” Eugene answered immediately. “Nothing too far, everything’s in the city center.”
Luo Hai pulled out his phone and adjusted something on the monitoring software linked to Eugene’s ankle tracker, then glanced at his ankle.
“I’ve disabled the distance restriction on your tracker and activated the following system. From now on, if you move more than three meters away from me, you’ll receive an electric shock strong enough to knock you out.”
Eugene still had that ever-flippant smirk. “You play rough in private, huh? I like it.”
“Don’t even think about trying anything. The shock level can be lethal,” Luo Hai warned coldly.
Eugene lazily gave a mock salute. “Understood, sir.”
…….
This was the first time Eugene had ever seen Luo Hai drive.
His apartment was so close to the prosecutor’s office that it took less than ten minutes to walk there. Since his routine was just a straight line between home and work, Eugene had assumed Luo Hai didn’t even own a car.
But not only did he have one—it was a high-end luxury sedan.
As Luo Hai pulled the car out of the garage, Eugene stood there, clicking his tongue like an escaped crab from a seafood market basket.
Luo Hai had to suppress the urge to just hit the gas and run him over.
“Didn’t expect this from you, Prosecutor Luo Hai,” Eugene mused, still clicking his tongue. “Seems like the prosecutor’s office pays better than I thought.”
“Get in,” Luo Hai said, rolling down the window and giving Eugene a cold stare.
As he buckled his seatbelt, Eugene glanced around the car and kept talking. “Did you know this model has a nickname? ‘Mistress Car.’ Because rich guys love buying this one for their little lovers. Of course, no offense—I know you bought this yourself—”
Luo Hai turned to him. “Shut up, or I’ll throw you out right now.”
Eugene obediently mimed zipping his lips shut but couldn’t hide the victorious smirk in his eyes.
…..
It was rare to see Luo Hai in casual clothes.
Since the day Eugene had been arrested, Luo Hai had always worn a crisp three-piece suit, changing nothing but the color of his tie.
But today, he was dressed in a light-colored knit sweater and a jacket. The collar, usually restrained by a tie, was now relaxed and open, revealing his well-defined collarbones.
……
The city center was bustling on a Sunday, filled with elderly people pushing carts at the market, children running around, and couples strolling arm in arm.
The moment they got out of the car, Eugene deliberately stuck close to Luo Hai. After only a few steps, he took it further, casually looping his arm through Luo Hai’s.
From any angle, they looked just like the lovestruck couples around them, the kind who couldn’t go three steps without sneaking a kiss.
“Did a donkey kick you in the head?” Luo Hai asked icily.
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. I just have a strong survival instinct,” Eugene grinned, lowering his voice until his nose was only a few centimeters from Luo Hai’s cheek. “Since stepping more than three meters away from you could get me electrocuted, I feel much safer holding onto you.”
Luo Hai’s temples throbbed with pain. The problem was, he really didn’t have much reason to object to this frivolous scoundrel.
From his standpoint, it was actually a good thing that Eugene was clinging to him rather than lurking in a corner, secretly plotting an escape. It also saved him the trouble of constantly monitoring his every move.
To put it another way, this big golden retriever was so obedient it was almost alarming. No leash was needed—just a beckoning finger, and he’d come trotting over happily.
“Where are the things you need to buy? Hurry up and get them so we can go back,” Luo Hai said briefly.
Eugene, still holding onto his arm, pointed in a few directions. “I have to say, you’ve lived in Nantes way longer than I have. How do you know absolutely nothing about the shops in the city center?”
“I told you, the prosecutor’s office keeps me busy. I don’t have time to wander around,” Luo Hai replied.
“But you still need to go out to buy groceries and daily necessities, right?” Eugene looked at him as if he were some kind of caveman.
“I have an assistant who takes care of most of that,” Luo Hai said, glancing at him. “I send him a list, and he buys everything and delivers it to my apartment.”
Eugene clicked his tongue. “Is that an assistant or a personal maid?”
“Before you moved in, I only went back to my apartment once or twice a week,” Luo Hai said indifferently. “My assistant has thrown things out for me more often than he’s bought things for me.”
Eugene scrutinized Luo Hai in surprise. “Come on, is that really necessary? You never go out, barely return home, and when you finally have a day off, you spend half of it sleeping?”
Luo Hai gave him an icy glance. “Did you think my house, my car, and my stable life in Nantes just fell from the sky?”
Eugene frowned. “But I don’t see the other prosecutors working themselves to death like you do.”
“I’m not like them,” Luo Hai looked away. “They’re Alphas.”
“As far as I know, none of your colleagues are aware that you’re an Omega.”
“The Chief Prosecutor, Doyle, knows. That’s enough,” Luo Hai said calmly. “The only reason he hasn’t sold me off to the aristocracy of Nantes is because of my work ability and intensity.”
Eugene stared at Luo Hai for a long time without speaking. Luo Hai avoided his gaze.
Suddenly, Eugene wrapped an arm around Luo Hai and tugged him in another direction.
“What are you doing?” Luo Hai was caught off guard and nearly stumbled.
“Since that’s the case, I’ll show you the best barbecue in downtown Nantes, and the most popular bubble tea,” Eugene said enthusiastically. “There’s also an arcade, a claw machine shop, and an escape room in the mall here. Oh, and I once had this stretchy malt candy that could be shaped into all sorts of cute designs.”
Luo Hai frowned, looking displeased. “I don’t have time for this. Buy what you need, and we’ll leave. I still have work to do—”
Before he could finish speaking, Eugene shoved a cup of bubble tea into his hand.
“Here,” Eugene said. “Your hands are freezing.”
Luo Hai instinctively took it. The warmth of the cup seeped through the plastic and into his palm. It was only then that he realized his hands really were cold.
For some reason, Eugene had noticed before he did.
The cold-faced, ruthless prosecutor frowned slightly but ultimately tightened his grip around the cup without saying anything.
