Luo Hai had envisioned many possibilities for the headquarters of the Lightwing Society.
Based on the hideouts they had previously shut down in Nantes, he had assumed it would be a secret basement under some building, an abandoned shopping mall’s second floor, or a hidden cottage somewhere in the wilderness.
But he had never imagined that the Lightwing Society’s base would be so openly located—right in the middle of the busiest commercial street in the city.
After Eugene’s loud shout had cleared the way, Xiao Lau quickly stepped on the gas, made a sharp turn, and entered another street.
This street was just as crowded as the last, but the roads were wider and the buildings more orderly. As Luo Hai was still wondering what kind of place the Lightwing Society’s base could be, the van came to a stop.
When Luo Hai looked up, he was stunned to see an extravagant, large-scale restaurant.
Even in Nantes, a restaurant this grand could only be found in the central district.
The luxurious establishment had a massive sign above it, its name written in gilded cursive: Lightwing Grand Hotel.
Luo Hai’s vision went dark for a moment.
Eugene grinned and leaned closer. “Well? Impressive, isn’t it?”
Luo Hai glared at him in disbelief. “Are you planning to take the Lightwing Society public or something? Hanging such a huge sign in the most conspicuous place—are you trying to make sure you have no escape route?”
Xiao Lau burst into laughter on the side, hiccupping as he tried to catch his breath. “I knew you’d scold him—look at that!”
Eugene laughed along, which only made Luo Hai even more furious. He wanted to slap him right then and there. “Eugene Oddis! I’m not joking! Do you think this is something to mess around with? Did water get into your brain?”
Eugene grabbed Luo Hai’s hand, still chuckling as he pressed it down. “Calm down, calm down. Take a proper look at our place and the sign again.”
Suppressing his anger, Luo Hai followed his gaze.
Gradually, he began to notice something.
Despite its grandeur, the restaurant’s décor was clearly aged.
The paint was peeling in many places, the wood had darkened and hardened, and remnants of yellowed adhesive from old advertisements covered the walls. From these signs, it was obvious that this restaurant had been here for at least a decade.
And a decade ago, the Lightwing Society didn’t even exist.
Of course, no one would associate a decade-old restaurant with the current Lightwing Society.
“What’s going on?” Luo Hai’s grip gradually loosened.
“There’s a bit of history behind it, but it’s too complicated to explain,” Eugene said with a smile, glancing at the sign. “It’s not that the restaurant got its name from Lightwing Society—it’s the other way around. Lightwing Society got its name from this restaurant.”
Luo Hai frowned. “Even so, don’t you think it’s risky to hang around such a conspicuous place every day? What if customers recognize you while they’re dining?”
Eugene glanced at his watch. “It’s dinner time right now, and we’ve been parked here for a while. Have you seen anyone walk in to eat?”
Luo Hai was momentarily stunned. Then, all at once, he understood.
Just like how he had sensed something off about this restaurant the moment he saw it—even in a place like Nantes, very few people could afford to dine somewhere this extravagant.
For the vast majority of Lansai’s residents, no matter how grandly it was situated or how luxurious its décor was, this restaurant had nothing to do with their lives.
An invisible class divide kept them at bay. No one would even think of stepping inside. Its opulent appearance was the perfect disguise.
It was reckless—yet absolutely brilliant.
Eugene Oddis had taken the saying “the safest place is the most dangerous one” and executed it to perfection.
Xiao Lau was the first to get out of the car. He walked over to the back seat and peeked inside. “What now? Should I go get a cane? Or maybe a wheelchair?”
Luo Hai pushed himself upright. He hated troubling others, let alone someone he had only met once.
Just as he was about to speak, Eugene cut in.
“No need. It’s just a few steps.”
With that, Eugene opened the car door, jumped out, and—before Luo Hai could even react—leaned back in, slipped his arms under Luo Hai’s knees and armpits, and effortlessly lifted him up.
“Isn’t this way more comfortable than a wheelchair?” Eugene raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
“Eugene!” Luo Hai yelped, instinctively struggling, but Eugene held him firmly.
“Careful now. If you fall and hurt your leg, I’m not taking responsibility.” Eugene jerked his chin at Xiao Lau. “Go open the door.”
People bustled up and down the street, and more than a few curious glances were thrown their way. Luo Hai felt a mix of humiliation and rage, but with his injured leg, he didn’t dare to struggle too hard. He could only clutch Eugene’s shoulders so tightly that he was practically digging his nails in.
He had never been carried like this in public before.
Xiao Lau was laughing as he ran ahead to open the door. Eugene strode in, still holding Luo Hai, stepping over the threshold. Inside, the restaurant was neatly arranged with tables and chairs, but the lights were off, leaving the room pitch black.
“Xiao Lau?” Eugene called, unable to free his hands to turn on the lights himself. But although Xiao Lau had entered first, he suddenly fell silent. Eugene called his name several times, but there was no response.
Just as Eugene frowned, suspecting something was wrong—
The entire hall lit up.
Dozens of people surrounded them in a circle, all sitting around.
In the front row, several of them pulled party poppers—bang!—sending colorful streamers into the air.
“Welcome home, in-law!”
The crowd shouted in unison.
The streamers fluttered down, landing on Eugene’s shoulders and Luo Hai’s head.
As whistles and cheers erupted around them, Luo Hai closed his eyes.
At this point, he didn’t even want to find a hole to crawl into anymore.
There was only one thought left in his mind.
He stared at Eugene with icy calm, gritting his teeth as he spat out the words:
“You. Are. Dead.”
Chaos erupted.
Xiao Lau and the members of Lightwing Society egged them on like madmen.
Luo Hai, furious beyond belief, grabbed Eugene’s ear and yanked—hard.
Eugene staggered, yelping in pain, begging for mercy as he swayed from side to side.
Meanwhile, a few kids—who had no idea what the adults were even celebrating—simply joined in the excitement, running around the room waving party poppers, bells, and anything else that could make noise.
The entire scene was a riot.
For twenty whole minutes, the commotion continued.
When things finally settled down, Luo Hai pressed his fingers to his temples and covered his face.
He had spent years carefully crafting a tough, cold, and untouchable image—
And in just twenty minutes, it had completely collapsed.
The attitude of Lightwing Society’s members toward him was beyond anything he had expected.
He had braced himself for hostility—if not outright condemnation, then at least cold indifference or silent resistance. From the moment he stepped into that van, he had been ready to face the harshest insults.
After all, he was the prosecutor assigned to investigate Lightwing Society.
Over the past year, he had arrested countless members, indirectly caused the deaths of numerous Omegas, and even personally arrested their leader—Eugene himself.
And yet—
As if by some unspoken agreement, not a single person mentioned any of it.
They only teased him about his relationship with Eugene, treating him like a new Omega joining their ranks—
Even though his scent unquestionably belonged to an Alpha.
Before long, a woman emerged from the kitchen, smiling as she called everyone to prepare for dinner. The rowdy crowd quickly quieted down, even the children dispersing to help with the preparations.
The Lightwing Society’s dinner was even more lively than Luo Hai had imagined.
At Xiao Lau’s call, people gradually emerged from rooms upstairs and downstairs, gathering in the hall. There were far more people than Luo Hai had expected—men, women, the elderly, and children—nearly a hundred in total.
The hall was almost completely filled with people. Xiao Lau was in charge of serving rice, while a few energetic children carried the dishes to each table. Laughter and conversation filled the room, as if they were one big, harmonious family.
And to his surprise, Luo Hai recognized some familiar faces among them.
Some were Omegas he had once arrested. Some were Omegas he had seen in Omega prison. The red-haired woman with a ponytail who had walked out of the kitchen was clearly Dandan. The child running past with a plate of stewed meat was undoubtedly Alin’s daughter.
“When Kliman ordered the slaughter of Omegas, I did what I could,” Eugene murmured. “I managed to save a few people. Most didn’t make it, but I saved as many as I could. They’re all here.”
Luo Hai was at a loss for words.
Suddenly, he lost the courage to take another step forward. He had the urge to turn and leave, to flee from this place, from these people.
They were victims of society, and he was an accomplice to their oppressors. He was the one responsible for their suffering, the reason they had ended up here. He had no right to stand among them, let alone share their meal.
His feet began to move instinctively, his body urging him to escape.
But before he could, Eugene gripped his arm tightly, holding him in place.
“Do you feel guilty? Do you feel remorse?” Eugene’s voice was low, just loud enough for Luo Hai to hear. “Then face them. Face the people you’ve hurt. Let their smiles pierce your heart and deepen your guilt. Otherwise, you’ll never be free of it.”
Eugene’s words were like a blade, slicing through Luo Hai’s insides and cutting straight to his heart.
Luo Hai closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Eugene always saw right through him. In front of this man, Luo Hai had no way to hide anything. Everything—his strengths and weaknesses, his pretense and his vulnerability, his sweetness and his poison—was laid bare like an open book for Eugene to read.
Without waiting for his response, Eugene took his hand and pulled him forward.
