Luo Hai’s eyes widened in shock.
No one in Nantes was unfamiliar with the name Shelley Manta.
Before the Catastrophe, he was known as the “father of the internet.” After the disaster, he was the key figure in rebuilding and restoring human communication networks. Without him, humanity might still be living in a world without the internet.
He was also the sole heir of the noble Manta family in Nantes. Not only did he own the world’s largest tech conglomerate, “Manta Networks,” but he also ran dozens of renowned restaurant, wine, and hospitality brands.
Nantes revered wealth, and Shelley Manta’s fortune was more than an ordinary person could earn in hundreds of lifetimes.
Yet, despite his towering status, fate had dealt him the worst possible hand during the catastrophic secondary differentiation—he had become an Omega.
In this era, the man was nothing short of a living miracle.
Anytime a proposal to improve Omega rights was raised, it would immediately be countered with the same argument: “Look at Mr. Manta. Isn’t our society already accepting enough of Omegas?”
Only now did Luo Hai realize how much the prosecutor’s office had underestimated Lightwing.
Not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined that Lightwing’s biggest backer was none other than the richest man in Nantes—the founder of Manta Networks.
And suddenly, many things made sense.
Like how Eugene had appeared outside the prison to meet him.
Like how, during his month-long house arrest, he had been able to make contact with Lightwing.
Most importantly—how he had managed to remove his tracking anklet without tampering with it at all.
Luo Hai had considered countless possibilities, but he had never expected the answer to be so simple:
The prison locks. The tracking anklet’s technology. All of it was developed by Manta Networks.
Eugene had indeed worked in Manta Networks’ finance department for a while. But Luo Hai had never imagined that he had actually managed to get in touch with Manta’s CEO himself.
Unfortunately, now was not the time for Luo Hai to dwell on such thoughts.
“Your name is Luo Hai, right?” Shelley asked with a smile, his gaze shifting back to Eugene. “Did you bring him here today because you’ve already made a decision?”
Eugene’s expression remained tense, and despite the smile in the old man’s eyes, he didn’t relax. He sat down opposite Shelley with Luo Hai. “How could it be decided? I’ve just been caught. I’m still thinking of alternatives.”
“You should know better than me,” Shelley said calmly. “There is no better alternative.”
“If there’s none, then find one,” Eugene said forcefully, clearly holding back his anger. “Solutions are for people to come up with. With so many brains in Lightwing, don’t tell me none of them can think of something?”
Shelley’s expression remained calm, his blue eyes clearly seasoned by many storms, unshaken by Eugene’s emotions. “If I’m not mistaken, this issue has been discussed six times already. Each time, several plans have been put forward, but you weren’t satisfied with any of them. The reason, of course, is clear. You know very well that none of those plans are good enough to be our final strategy.”
Eugene took a deep breath, slowly releasing the tension in his chest. “It’s just a matter of time. If I had more time, I’m sure I could…”
“Time is exactly what we don’t have,” Shelley interrupted. “The police in Nantes have already checked all the nearby cities. Public discontent has reached its peak, and soon, a helicopter from Nantes will be flying over Lansai. If we don’t decide by then, it’ll be too late.”
“Even so—” Eugene’s frustrated voice was cut off by Luo Hai.
“Excuse me,” Luo Hai said calmly, “I can’t see what will come of your argument. If the issue you’re arguing about concerns me, shouldn’t the ‘person involved’ be listened to as well?”
Eugene pursed his lips, slowly standing straight. He didn’t say anything, still looking reluctant.
But Luo Hai knew him too well. Even without saying a word, Eugene’s expression told him everything.
“So, Lightwing has a final plan, a full-scale attack on the Alpha regime,” Luo Hai said steadily. “And to carry out this plan, you need my help, but Eugene doesn’t want me to do it. Is that right?”
No need for Eugene to respond—his face made it clear that Luo Hai had hit the mark.
“Tell me what the plan is,” Luo Hai said, staring at him with a piercing gaze. “I’m not your pet.”
…
The night in Lansai was pitch dark, and cold winds surrounded the city, but all of it was shut out behind the walls. In the basement, only the cold, bright lights and silent books remained. The words on the whiteboard were erased and rewritten, the entire plan slowly unfolding.
By the time the last word faded into the air, Luo Hai was still too stunned to recover from the shock of the plan.
It was bold, daring, simple, and decisive. A typical Lightwing style. A typical Eugene move.
But Eugene’s expression was far from pleased. His face remained cold and stiff throughout, standing by in silence after speaking, until Shelley broke the silence first.
“We’ve been discussing this for a long time, but we’ve never been able to reach an agreement,” Shelley said slowly. “We don’t have much time left to make a decision. If this delays Lightwing’s operations, the consequences will be unthinkable. I don’t need to explain that, do I?”
“This shouldn’t be something to hesitate about,” Luo Hai frowned. “Isn’t it just that you need me to return to Nantes as a prosecutor and assist in completing a critical part of the plan within the Prosecutor’s Office?”
“‘Enyouge’ was originally the identity Eugene prepared for this plan, but unfortunately, due to the unforeseen circumstances at the trial conference, this path is no longer viable,” Shelley said. “Since that incident, Nantes has been on high alert, and the Prosecutor’s Office, the police, and all government departments are no longer hiring. So, besides you, no one else can do this.”
“I don’t think so,” Eugene interrupted coldly. “Lightwing’s connections aren’t that pathetic. We can’t possibly not find anyone willing to help—”
Luo Hai couldn’t believe Eugene was being so unreasonable. “Even if you find someone willing to help, do you trust them? This plan is so important that even I can see it. If it fails, it’s game over. Do you dare to hand the lives of so many people in Lightwing to someone just because they’re ‘willing to help’?”
“Even so, I still don’t want you to do it!” Eugene raised his voice. “Can’t you see? The most dangerous part of the entire plan is this position! The person in this position is nothing more than bait, doomed to be exposed, doomed to be surrounded by enemies!”
“So what?” Luo Hai interrupted Eugene. “That’s been my life all along. Before Lightwing was established, did I live a stable, comfortable life in Nantes? It was you who brought me here, you who told me to stand up and resist! Now, why is it that the coward is you?”
“That’s different!” Eugene slammed his hand down on the table. “I just want you to see the situation clearly. I never intended for you to work for Lightwing! If that were the case, why did I go through all that trouble to bring you out of Nantes? Why did I risk my life to keep you from being suspected?”
“I’m the only option!” Luo Hai emphasized. “This mission can’t be done by anyone else—only I can complete it! Is my life more important than the lives of hundreds of people in Lightwing?”
“Exactly!” Eugene raised his voice and shouted, “I’d rather the Lightwing resistance fail than let you go to your death!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the air in the room froze.
Luo Hai walked toward Eugene. One second, two seconds.
Then, without hesitation, he raised his hand and slapped Eugene across the face.
Eugene had been slapped by Luo Hai before, but it had never been this hard. This time, Luo Hai used the full force of his palm, causing Eugene to uncontrollably tilt his head to the side. His teeth hit the soft flesh inside his cheek, and a little blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“Do you hear the stupid things you’re saying?” Luo Hai’s voice was deep. “Do you know how disappointed Xiao Lau, Dandan, Li Jie, and the others—those who are willing to follow you with their lives—would be if they heard what you just said?”
Eugene remained silent, his gaze dropped as he stared at a single point in the air. He looked like a stubborn young man, knowing he had done something wrong but refusing to admit it, using silence as a form of silent resistance.
At that moment, the blue-eyed old man spoke.
“Don’t be too harsh on him, Luo Hai,” the old man said quietly. “He has done a lot for you over the years. Without you, there wouldn’t be the Lightwing we have today. Everything he did for the Omega uprising was to one day create a world where you could live without discrimination, without injustice.”
Luo Hai didn’t say anything, and for a long while, he just silently looked at Eugene.
The air was eerily quiet, as if frozen. In the large basement, the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock, and no other noise could be heard.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Luo Hai spoke softly.
“I won’t die.”
Eugene lifted his head.
“I still have things to say to you, still a lot to do with you,” Luo Hai said. “I promise you, no matter what happens, I’ll put my life first and absolutely will not die before you. Is that okay?”
Eugene didn’t respond, still with his head down. Luo Hai walked up to him, took his chin in his hand, and forced him to look up.
“Did you hear what I said?”
Eugene looked at Luo Hai, his eyes still showing reluctance and stubbornness. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk, like some childish oath.”
Luo Hai let go of his chin. “It’s not an oath; it’s a serious promise. I can swear it using the highest-level ceremony.”
With that, Luo Hai took a small step back, raised his hand, and extended his pinky finger toward Eugene.
Eugene looked at him, feeling as though the softest part of his heart was slowly melting.
He would never forget how, when they were children, they made countless childish promises—from ownership of a chocolate bar to a race where they bet their entire futures.
Every time, he would make sure to hook his pinky with Luo Hai’s, calling it the “highest-level ceremony.” But Luo Hai never acknowledged it, never once extended his pinky first.
Eugene extended his hand slowly, stretching out his pinky, and hooked it with Luo Hai’s.
His voice was faintly hoarse. “Pinky swear, hang oneself, one hundred years, no changing.”
