I Became the Omega in a Game - Chapter 3

Knowing that pheromone suppression was largely a battle of mental discipline, Riche refrained from letting herself worry too much. Maintaining her characteristic calm, she steadied her breathing and pushed open the door to the Diamond Room.

A slightly bitter, herbal aroma wafted into her nose, sharp enough to tickle her senses. Riche inhaled slowly, though the scent wasn’t particularly pleasant.

‘Robart’s finest cigars.’

These premium cigars were a favorite among wealthy nobles. The price of a single box was equivalent to the cost of a week’s living expenses for a family of four—a luxury accessible only to the aristocracy and affluent commoners.

The expensive cigar smoke floated through the room like a dense cloud. These cigars, known for their mild nerve-relaxing effects, were also infamous for being a prelude to sexual encounters. If the night unfolded as she suspected, there was a chance Riche could collect valuable data on Alpha-Omega interactions.

With a faint glimmer of anticipation, she pushed the serving cart into the room, which resembled the VIP lounges she had seen in high-end bars in her original dimension.

The interior featured a massive ebony wood table large enough for two adults to sprawl across comfortably, surrounded by luxurious bench seating. Behind the drinking area was a queen-sized bed for lounging or other activities, along with neatly arranged shelves holding chess sets, dice, and other games to stave off boredom.

After scanning the room briefly, Riche lowered her gaze to the nobles lounging on the benches, puffing on cigars. Each of them wore languid expressions, their eyes half-lidded in relaxation.

Despite the thick cigar smoke curling through the air, the sheer size of the Diamond Room—twice as large as most other private spaces in the club—kept the atmosphere from feeling stifling.

The table was sparsely adorned, holding only a few simple bar snacks and some beer.

“Hurry up and set it all up.”

A nobleman, idly picking at sugared nuts and dried figs, waved his hand dismissively without even glancing at her.

As Riche passed by the sofa, a man reclining there with his legs crossed and a cigar in hand suddenly wrinkled his nose. His expression, subtle but noticeable, caught her attention. Nobles were notoriously picky, so Riche, who had been keeping her head down, instinctively shifted her gaze toward him.

He stood out. The rich green of his dress coat was striking, especially paired with his vivid red hair, yet it didn’t feel garish. The colors somehow blended seamlessly, creating a refined balance. His shirt, unbuttoned by one or two notches and missing a tie, hinted at a deliberate disheveled elegance that stirred the imagination. His sleek, gelled hair revealed a smooth, handsome forehead, but his scowling expression caused faint lines to form, almost like cracks in his otherwise flawless face.

His lips, a deep reddish-brown, contrasted with his sculpted nose, which added a decadent charm to his features. He was, Riche noted, an unusually captivating man.

Then, he sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring slightly.

What’s he doing?

She glanced at him cautiously out of the corner of her eye, careful not to draw attention. Just as she thought she’d gone unnoticed, the man snapped his head up like a phantom.

His intense red eyes burned as they locked onto hers, the vibrancy of his crimson hair only amplifying their fiery glare. The sheer ferocity of his gaze caused Riche’s shoulders to stiffen involuntarily with tension.

Could he possibly have picked up on some trace of pheromones?

No, that can’t be. My suppression skill is active and functioning perfectly.

Fortunately, it seemed to be a coincidence. The man quickly lost interest, his expression dulling as he returned to puffing his cigar. Smoke curled lazily from his parted lips, diffusing into the air.

He’s making me tense for no reason, she grumbled inwardly, turning away. Resuming her task, she placed the plates neatly on the room’s table.

Idelli Grace and her men, unconcerned with the presence of a lowly employee, continued their conversation.

“What about His Highness?”

“Is he really not coming?”

“Did you deliver the letter properly? It doesn’t make sense for him to ignore Idelli’s personal invitation.”

One of the men, looking confident this couldn’t possibly be the case, shook his head.

Idelli Grace’s entourage consisted of ten men, all from distinguished and influential noble families. Their presence alone was a testament to her stature as an Ultra-Dominant Omega.

This scene, Riche thought, vividly demonstrated the sheer magnitude of Idelli’s influence.

While keeping her eyes on the food she was serving, Riche sharpened her focus.

Queen was an exclusive club, but as a Beta, Riche’s opportunities to interact with Alphas and Omegas were limited. The rare chance to observe Idelli Grace, a famed Ultra-Dominant Omega, and her entourage filled her researcher’s heart with anticipation.

Standing before what felt like a treasure trove of valuable data, Riche’s downcast eyes glimmered faintly with curiosity. She moved the plates slowly, her ears pricking up at the snippets of conversation around her.

“Shut your mouth, Crion. Are you stupid? Do you still not understand the situation? Stop acting like a fool—it’s even more annoying.”

“N-No, Idelli, I just… don’t get it…”

Crion, the man who had been trying to curry favor with Idelli by badmouthing the Crown Prince, faltered, clearly flustered by her sharp rebuke.

“Idelli, are you upset? I didn’t mean anything bad. It’s just incomprehensible to me—how could anyone turn down your invitation?”

Idelli Grace offered no reply, her irritation plain on her face.

Riche discreetly cast a glance forward. Idelli sat in the center of the room, surrounded by her ten men. She occupied an entire spacious sofa on her own, and at a mere wave of her hand, the men on either side of her moved quickly to hand her a cigar in one hand and a piece of fruit in the other.

She was, without a doubt, stunningly beautiful.

Idelli’s small face seemed delicate enough to be covered entirely by a single outstretched hand, and her refined features were perfectly balanced in every direction. She wore a blue dress in the robe à l’anglaise style, though the effect was far from prim.

While such attire typically evoked a demure image, on Idelli, the tightly cinched waist and the generous emphasis on her chest lent her an air of seductive allure. She was like a beautiful but perilous rose bush surrounded by her harem of male consorts.

Running her fingers through her long, glossy golden hair, Idelli brought the cigar to her crimson lips. The jewels adorning her white gloves sparkled faintly in the light. Her piercing blue eyes gazed downward, frustration etched into her expression. The cause of her annoyance was clear: the Crown Prince, who had declined her invitation.

So she really is interested in the Crown Prince. Elsa was right, Riche thought.

She inhaled lightly.

…Lemonade?

Even through the thick, heady scent of cigars, a sweet and refreshing fragrance cut through—a subtle yet powerful undertone.

It was Idelli Grace’s pheromones. Riche licked her lips thoughtfully.

While all Alphas and Omegas shared the trait of producing pheromones, the exact scent of those pheromones differed from person to person, which Riche found fascinating.

Kairos Strigo’s pheromones smelled like damp earth and tanned leather. As a knight and commander who’s spent years on the battlefield, it made sense. It might mean pheromones are influenced not only by genetics but also by environmental factors.

Even amid the overwhelming cigar smoke, Idelli’s pheromones were unmistakable, impressing Riche with their strength.

So this is what an Ultra-Dominant Omega’s pheromones feel like.

Taking another subtle sniff, Riche caught a different scent, one that made her tilt her head in curiosity.

…Damp, coastal mud?

It was somewhat similar to Kairo’s scent but carried a different nuance.

Kairos is away on a campaign, so it can’t be him… Then whose pheromones are these?

Riche subtly scanned the room, her eyes darting here and there, but her movements did not go unnoticed.

“What are you standing around for?” Crion barked irritably, clearly annoyed at being chastised earlier. “Pour the drinks already!”

Riche lowered her gaze and silently pulled the basket of alcohol from the lower shelf of the cart.

“Don’t take it too personally, Idelli. His Highness the Crown Prince is known for being unpredictable. Even the ailing Emperor himself wouldn’t be able to predict his actions from his sickbed,” Crion said smoothly, taking the glass from Riche’s hands. He poured the drink and gently held it up to Idelli’s lips, his manner toward her a sharp contrast to the brusque way he had addressed Riche earlier.

Riche, unfazed by having the glass taken from her, simply shrugged and began setting down fresh glasses.

“Even someone as difficult as the Crown Prince wouldn’t be able to resist you if he spent thirty minutes—no, even ten—with you,” Crion murmured sweetly.

“You really think so?” Idelli asked, her irritation softening just slightly.

“Of course, my Idelli. Before meeting you, I was as blind as a man with his eyes shut, but now? My eyes are open, and they see only you.”

His saccharine words seemed to lift Idelli’s mood. The faint lemonade scent of her pheromones grew stronger, making Riche quietly exhale to keep her composure.

It was at that moment that a sharp chuckle cut through the air.

Riche, who had been wholly focused on Idelli Grace, became aware once again of the man she had noticed earlier—the one who had sniffed the air like a hound when she first entered the room.

The red-haired, red-eyed man was seated casually, yet his posture radiated an air of defiance. His chiseled features, striking even among the nobles, were marred only by the crooked smirk twisting his lips, as if something about the situation amused him to no end.

Idelli’s sharp gaze snapped toward him, her already foul mood darkening further. Her voice was sharp and cutting as a needle.

“What’s so funny, Rey?”

The man, Rey—or more formally, Raymond—said nothing at first, merely downing his drink in a single gulp. He wiped a drop of liquor from his lips with his thumb before curling his mouth into another insolent smirk. Despite his rugged demeanor, there was a mischievous, almost boyish quality to his grin.

“What’s so funny? This, of course. Isn’t it hilarious?”

Idelli’s voice grew even colder. “What are you talking about?”

Raymond leaned back, tapping the rim of his glass as though pondering something. His red eyes burned with a mocking light.

“Are you angry because you couldn’t get the Crown Prince to come, or are you upset because your pride took a hit?” he asked casually, his words laced with malice.

“…Or maybe it’s both?”

Though his face feigned innocence, the venom in his tone was unmistakable. The room, previously warm with idling chatter, turned icy. Even the ever-simmering tension among Idelli’s men seemed to freeze.

Idelli’s face stiffened, her icy beauty now resembling a frozen blade. Riche, captivated by the unfolding drama, paused her work and stole a glance at the scene. Fortunately, all eyes were on Raymond and Idelli, leaving her free to observe unnoticed.

Idelli handed the cigar she had been smoking to the man next to her, her smile suddenly soft and sweet.

“And what do you think, Raymond?” she asked, her tone deceptively light.

“I’d say it’s the first,” Raymond replied nonchalantly, swirling the liquor in his glass. “You must be losing your mind over the expensive lingerie you wore just for him. Am I right?”

Her lips quirked in what might have been a smile, though the meaning behind it was ambiguous. “Oh my, it’s as if you’ve crawled right into my heart and read my every thought.”

Whether she was mocking him or admitting he was correct, it was impossible to tell. The tension in the room remained thick, and only Raymond seemed oblivious to the weight of the atmosphere as he poured himself another drink.

At one point, his gaze flickered briefly toward Riche, who stood quietly nearby. The sudden eye contact sent a wave of unease through her, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something about him that felt distinctly dangerous, though he turned his attention back to Idelli as quickly as it had strayed to her.

“In return, why don’t I try to guess what you’re thinking?” Raymond offered, his smirk widening.

“Go ahead,” Idelli replied, her voice dripping with amusement. Her gaze slid down to Raymond’s lap, her next words sharp and cutting.

“So, why are you so hard right now? Just seeing me makes you throb like that? What is that vulgar cock of yours truly craving?”

She trailed her finger along her crimson lips, tilting her head slightly as if deep in thought. Despite the subtlety of the gesture, her movements were saturated with sensuality. The flicker of enjoyment on her face made it clear she was reveling in this twisted game.

“Is it burying yourself in my body as a substitute for the Crown Prince?”

Raymond’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second.

“Or…” Idelli continued, her tone dropping provocatively, “…is it licking my feet?”

Idelli leaned back against the chair and propped her feet up on the table. Her skirt slid down to her thighs, revealing her slender calves. Her clean, unblemished toes twitched idly in the air.

“Just thinking about it makes your cock feel like it’s going to burst, doesn’t it?”

Raymond’s face darkened as his eyes unintentionally lingered on her calves and pale feet. Though his lips were still curved in a smile, the expression carried a growling undertone. With a sneer, he retorted, “What, are you planning to sleep with me instead of the crown prince tonight?”

“Cut it out, Raymond.” The man sitting beside him nudged his side, but Raymond ignored him, pouring himself another drink and keeping his gaze locked on Idelli.

Idelli wasn’t one to back down either. What might have offended most women seemed to amuse her; she responded with a sultry smile, one that was almost teasing.

“Depends on how you behave,” she said, her eyes fixed on him as she raised the glass in her hand to her lips. Her crimson lips wrapped around the edge of the glass with deliberate grace, the motion tauntingly slow.

She was a woman born with the natural talent to toy with men’s emotions, to hold their hearts in the palm of her hand and shake them at will.

Noticing Raymond’s sudden silence, likely provoked, Riche stepped back slowly, keeping to herself. No one paid any attention to her, which allowed her to observe the tense interaction between Idelli and Raymond more freely.

Red hair, red eyes. In contrast, his pale skin and well-proportioned physique stood out even to someone like Riche, who didn’t typically favor men with a dangerous allure. She couldn’t deny his magnetic presence.

Studying him like a wildcat, Riche tilted her head slightly. There was something oddly familiar about him. Had they met before? Why did he seem so recognizable?

“Raymond Strigo. He’s an old friend of mine,” Idelli said lazily. “You’ve always wanted to sleep with me, haven’t you? I like men who are honest. If you’re jealous, just admit you’re jealous. I’d like that even more.”

‘Strigo… Strigo…’ The name rang a bell. Riche’s eyes widened.

‘Ah, I see. He’s the younger brother of the knight commander.’

Kairos Strigo. Kairos Strigo was currently stationed in a conflict zone at the emperor’s command, mediating a territorial dispute with a neighboring nation. The man in front of her must be the younger brother he had once mentioned in passing.

‘A “cute but distant younger brother who isn’t as affectionate as he used to be,” wasn’t that how he described him? Though, calling him cute seems like a stretch now—he’s more like a cocky delinquent.’

‘Hmm, this could be… problematic.’

Riche subtly gauged the situation. Fortunately, Raymond Strigo seemed wholly focused on Idelli Grace and hadn’t spared her a glance.

Confirming that her pheromone-suppression technique was working, Riche began to quietly back away. While it was unlikely that estranged brothers would share details of their personal affairs, it never hurt to be cautious.

“If you need anything else, just ring the bell,” she said lightly.

Neither Raymond nor Idelli acknowledged her.

“Yeah, you can leave,” another man in the room answered instead, as if dismissing her.

Riche shuffled backward to the door.

Creak.

Just before the door fully closed, Riche glanced inside. Idelli was kissing the man beside her, her lips moving sensuously against his. But her gaze was not on the man she was kissing—it was on Raymond.

Slowly sipping his drink, Raymond met Idelli’s gaze with a heavy, smoldering expression. His cold eyes betrayed the low mood he was suppressing, and somewhere deep within them, sparks flickered.

Their alpha and omega pheromones seemed to clash in the air. They mixed and rejected each other at the same time, like oil and water shaken in a single bottle.

With a small sniff, Riche wrinkled her nose and smirked as she closed the door.

‘Interesting.’

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