The villa was quiet. The long corridor was empty, not a soul in sight.
Luo Hai was familiar with this kind of silence. From a very early time, Doyle had disliked having his life disturbed. Even for housekeeping and cleaning, he only ever hired part-time help—and strictly forbade them from coming when he wasn’t home.
Because of that, the large villa often had only Doyle living in it. Even during the period when Luo Hai was his favorite, Doyle never allowed him near his study or bedroom.
It had been six years since the last time Luo Hai spent the night in this villa. He thought he would have forgotten many things by now, but the moment he stepped inside, he realized that every painting on the walls, every ornament at the corners, every room’s position—was still vividly imprinted in his mind.
He led Eugene straight down the corridor.
Eugene hadn’t said a word. Shadows hid his face, and Luo Hai couldn’t see—nor did he dare to look at—his expression. He had to cast aside all memories of misery and pain. In this moment, the only thing he could do was keep his eyes fixed forward.
They hadn’t walked far when a rustling sound came from the end of the corridor, occasionally accompanied by the noise of things falling to the ground. It sounded like someone was packing in a rush, so frantic that it was causing a chain of accidents, forcing him to let out a curse.
Luo Hai and Eugene exchanged a glance before kicking the door open together.
Behind the door was a bedroom. Colette Doyle stood in the center of the room, an open suitcase laid out on the bed in front of him, hurriedly stuffing valuables inside. He froze for a second when Eugene and Luo Hai burst in—just long enough for Eugene to raise his gun and aim it squarely at him.
Doyle stared into the dark barrel of the gun, slowly straightening up and raising his hands, still calm. “You got here fast. My house has been under surveillance for a while now, hasn’t it?”
“Trying to run at this point—don’t you think it’s a bit late?” Eugene’s voice was ice-cold. “You think you can still get away?”
It was the first time Luo Hai had heard Eugene speak in such a frigid tone. There wasn’t a trace of emotion in his voice—just pure danger and hatred in those amber eyes.
In the cramped room, Eugene’s Alpha pheromones instantly spread out, overpowering every other scent in the air.
Doyle coughed violently from the intensity of the scent, his knees trembling uncontrollably. But then his eyes hardened—he smashed a glass fishbowl on the table with one punch.
Water spilled out. A poor goldfish flopped pitifully in the dry bowl. Blood trickled from Doyle’s fingers, cut by the shards, but he used the pain to straighten himself in the overwhelming pheromone pressure, looking at Eugene with unshaken composure.
“You think mixing a few drugs and finding a few allies is enough to shake the decades-old Alpha regime on this continent?” Doyle sneered. “I’ve already informed the Prime Minister. He’ll be here in less than ten minutes with people to arrest all of you, inspect every gland, and expose who’s real and who’s not. Every media outlet spreading rumors will be punished, and every filthy Omega will be sentenced to death!”
Then Doyle leaned in closer toward Eugene, lowering his voice. “You think I’m trying to escape? No. I’m just moving to a spot with a better view—to more comfortably enjoy the spectacle of Lightwing being slaughtered.”
Eugene was clearly provoked. He raised the gun, and the sound of cocking it rang sharply in the enclosed room. “Oh yeah? Too bad we’ll get to enjoy the spectacle of your brains getting blown out first.”
“Eugene!” Luo Hai suddenly shouted at the last moment.
Eugene’s finger was already squeezing the trigger, but he forcefully stopped and frowned. “What is it?”
“Something’s not right,” Luo Hai muttered, grabbing Eugene’s wrist.
He’d had a feeling something was off from the moment they entered—not quite the atmosphere, nor just the tension… but the scent in the air?
Yes. The scent.
In this tight space with three people—there was no Omega pheromone in the air.
Eugene was an Alpha, and Luo Hai was using synthetic pheromones. But why… did Doyle still smell the same?
He remembered clearly—he had drugged every single person in the prosecutor’s office with the drug. Doyle didn’t attend team meals, but there were plenty of other ways to reach him. The tea and coffee he drank in the office were all laced, and the dosages were precisely calculated. By now, Doyle should have started emitting Omega pheromones.
Luo Hai had personally seen Doyle drink those beverages. Unless Doyle had some kind of instant detox superpower… there was only one possible explanation.
Luo Hai’s eyes widened in disbelief at the conclusion he’d reached.
“What is it?” Eugene asked again, a hint of urgency in his voice.
“He…” Luo Hai’s voice was hoarse to the point of pain. It took effort just to get the rest of the words out. “He’s not an Alpha.”
“What?” Eugene looked even more shocked than he did.
A flood of memories flashed through Luo Hai’s mind in that instant.
Why had the prosecutor’s office—which only allowed Alphas to join—been purchasing drugs to mask Omega pheromones for so long? Why had Doyle, from childhood to adulthood, never let anyone near his study or bedroom? And during those hellish days—why had Doyle never once personally joined the twisted games he orchestrated?
Even so, the conclusion felt too absurd—like some cruel joke the universe had decided to play out of boredom. So absurd, it made all of Luo Hai’s hatred feel suddenly directionless.
“Alpha pheromones can’t resist the drug’s effects. But his scent is still the same,” Luo Hai said quietly. “That leaves only one possibility… His pheromones were fake from the start. He was always an Omega.”
Eugene was speechless for a long moment.
Doyle, who had been eerily composed until now, suddenly exploded in rage upon hearing those words. “I’m not an Omega!”
He overturned the open suitcase with a crash, then swept the broken remains of the fishbowl and the poor fish onto the floor with a loud clatter.
“You’re slandering me! I’m a dignified Alpha—the Chief Prosecutor of Nantes! How dare you spew such nonsense—!”
“A simple gender test will tell us the truth,” Luo Hai cut him off, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Didn’t you just say the Prime Minister will be here soon? Then let him test you along with the rest of us. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
Doyle’s pupils dilated.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his lips trembled uncontrollably. Still, he clung to his last thread of denial like a mad beast, slamming his fist onto the table. “You’re lying! You’re defaming me! I’m not an Omega! I’m not! I’m not!!”
With each denial, he slammed his fist down harder. The fragile wooden table splintered beneath him, blood splattering.
Doyle’s madness and despair were reflected clearly in Luo Hai’s eyes. The world felt like some pitiful circus—a giant Möbius loop that made him want to laugh.
“Is that so?” Luo Hai said. “Then you’re a monster. A creature that’s neither Alpha nor Omega—something no one will ever accept.”
That sentence pushed Doyle over the edge. He lunged at Luo Hai like a beast with nothing left to lose.
Eugene didn’t hesitate. He fired a shot into Doyle’s thigh.
The old Omega collapsed with a distorted expression of pain, crashing to the floor with only enough strength left to clutch the wound and gasp for breath.
Eugene held the gun and slowly walked forward, his gaze cold enough to freeze an entire volcano. But just as he was about to reach Doyle, he suddenly stopped, took Luo Hai’s hand, and pressed the gun into his palm.
The heavy, cold metal felt like it burned Luo Hai’s skin.
“I thought… you wanted to do it yourself…” Luo Hai’s voice was a little hoarse.
“I do. I want it more than anything. Every day and night for all these years, with every breath, I’ve thought about it.” Eugene lowered his eyes slightly and wrapped Luo Hai’s fingers around the gun, helping him hold it tight. “But in the end, this is your life, your experience, your choice. What happens to him—should be up to you.”
Luo Hai couldn’t name the emotion surging in his chest. All he could do was follow Eugene’s lead, tightening his grip on the gun, and look at Doyle on the floor.
Suddenly, Doyle looked pathetically old.
Maybe it was because this was the first time Luo Hai had seen him from above. In that moment, he noticed the deep wrinkles on Doyle’s face, his skin sallow, his thinning hair scattered and poorly dyed, reeking of chemicals.
Who knew how long he’d been using those drugs—maybe decades, maybe his whole life. The damage they had done to his body was obvious. This old man was already a candle in the wind, wearing artificially synthesized pheromones like armor, fooling those who couldn’t get close enough to see the truth.
Luo Hai lowered his gaze and then slowly squatted down, placing the gun on the floor.
“Our conversation just now was transmitted through our earpieces to every member of the Lightwing. A journalist I know will soon publish your story online. You can no longer live as an Alpha. The Prime Minister won’t stand by you either. Even if you kill us—kill every member of Lightwing—it won’t change that fact.”
Doyle said nothing. He didn’t even move his eyes, just kept breathing heavily while holding his wound.
“But if you’re willing to admit that you’re an Omega, the Lightwing can take you in,” Luo Hai said calmly. “You won’t have to hide behind drugs or conceal your identity anymore. Someone will protect your safety. You can live out the rest of your days peacefully, away from the world.”
Still, Doyle showed no reaction. His eyes were fixed on a point in the void, not even the slightest response.
Luo Hai didn’t say anything more. He stood up, took Eugene’s hand, and murmured, “Let’s go.”
Eugene said nothing, only nodded and followed Luo Hai out of the lavish yet oppressive bedroom.
Not long after, Luo Hai heard the sound of a handgun being picked up.
He had expected that. In fact, he had known all along—there was never a second option for Doyle.
The gunshot rang out. Luo Hai turned around. Doyle had collapsed in a pool of blood, the gun still in his hand, a single bullet wound in his head leaking pale brain matter.
