I Became the Omega in a Game - Chapter 32

Laska, his arms tied behind the chair and his legs spread apart, looked utterly bewildered.

“What does any of this have to do with your research?”

“You really don’t know?”

Riche perched lightly on the edge of the side table across from him, tilting her head slightly.

Laska had helped her for many reasons: out of a genuine desire to assist a suffering patient, out of a sense of fairness, wanting to compensate Riche for the unjust treatment she and her people had endured, and because he was simply astonished to have encountered an acquired omega in such a place.

But now, as he looked at her innocent expression, confusion swelled within him.

Had he been deceived?

Like a flame flickering wildly in the face of an unstoppable wind, doubt raged within him.

“As you know, I’m an acquired omega. Unlike natural-born omegas, I’m not used to pheromones. If I fail to control them properly, unintended ‘accidents’ can happen. I’m sure you, as a healer, understand that well.”

Riche lowered her gaze, as if saddened.

Of course, deep inside, her thoughts were as cold and clinical as a scientist peering through a microscope.

“I’m well aware of how often inexperienced omegas end up involved in attempted assault cases. And wasn’t it because of concerns like that that you suggested I undergo pheromone control training?”

Her soft-spoken words carried pheromones as effortlessly as the wind scatters flower seeds.

Laska shuddered involuntarily.

His smooth, swollen tip twitched toward the ceiling, and the realization of his own reaction made him flush with embarrassment. He clenched his teeth.

“You… You’re already more than capable of controlling your pheromones. My advice is meaningless to you.”

The cold, frost-like impression he had given her when they first met was now completely gone.

Beads of sweat formed on Riche’s forehead.

She was carefully adjusting the concentration of pheromones flowing from her body.

Her proposal to Laska had been simple: she wanted to discuss their research openly and exchange insights.

Unlike Laska, who was a direct descendant of the prestigious Medichina family, Riche was nothing more than a common woman—or, at least, that was how society saw her. To most, she was merely a club hostess, working at a place regarded as little more than a bar.

Laska had every reason to find her claim suspicious.

And yet, he showed no sign of doubt.

Not just a nobleman by birth, but a man cultured enough to understand that reacting too bluntly would be impolite—that was how Riche assessed him.

Of course, Laska didn’t entirely believe that Riche was truly a researcher.

They didn’t share enough trust for him to take her words at face value.

Instead, he understood it this way: as an acquired omega—a rarity—Riche had begun studying the traits of alphas and omegas out of necessity, trying to understand what she had become.

Fortunately for Riche, this subject aligned perfectly with Laska’s own interests. Recessive Alphas and Omegas were often unable to control their pheromones properly, making them prone to impulsive behavior, which often led to unfortunate outcomes.

Laska, in turn, had requested Riche’s cooperation. By studying her, he hoped to find ways for recessive traits to live more stable and fulfilling lives.

For Riche, this was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

And so, the two of them began sharing their accumulated knowledge.

Laska’s explanations answered many of Riche’s long-standing questions—questions that clinical research alone could not resolve. Conversely, Laska was fascinated by the meticulous data Riche had recorded from other researchers, as well as the unique perspective she brought as someone from another dimension. For him, a noble-born Alpha raised with traditional ideas, her insights were completely novel.

However, he had been visibly taken aback when she had described the more primitive aspects of Alpha biology.

After many discussions, they reached the same conclusion: pheromones needed to be studied more closely.

Laska required her pheromones as a recessive Omega.
Riche needed to refine her ability to control them.

Thanks to the system, Riche could see numerical values for pheromone levels. She wanted to determine exactly how much pheromone output was needed to affect an Alpha—and to what extent.

This wasn’t something theory alone could solve.

It required practical experiments.

Luckily, she didn’t have to search far for a test subject.

In the short time she had known Laska, Riche had already developed a strong understanding of his character.

He was gentle, deeply compassionate, and driven by a strong sense of duty. He was also extremely cautious about causing harm to others. Yet, as she had seen when he confronted Gobert, he could be ruthlessly cold when faced with injustice.

Still, compared to the rigid, calculating researchers she had encountered in the past, Laska was soft. Softer than a stuffed doll.

Considering how Alphas were typically prideful and possessive of Omegas, Laska was something of an anomaly. In many ways, that made him the perfect subject for her experiments.

“I’m still not good at controlling it,” Riche murmured. “Sometimes my ability malfunctions.”

She lightly swung her foot back and forth.

“I want to figure out how to release just the right amount of pheromones to make an Alpha… slightly excited.”

Her small foot traced through the air, never actually making contact—yet Laska’s face flushed as if she had touched him.

His heart pounded harder each time her foot hovered close.

“Or, how much pheromone exposure it takes for an Alpha to lose control.”

“…”

“Those are the things I’m curious about.”

Her soft voice blended seamlessly with the scent of peach-like pheromones, carrying a dreamlike quality.

Laska’s breathing grew uneven.

Riche let out a quiet sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. Even as they spoke, she was exerting an immense amount of focus.

Until now, her pheromone control had been all-or-nothing—like a faucet that could only be fully opened or tightly shut. There had been no in-between.

But after experiencing Raymond and Kairos, as well as facing suspicion from Idelli Grace, she had come to realize the urgent need for finer control.

Even as a recessive Omega, her pheromones—when fully released—seemed to exert a powerful pull on Alphas.

It was commonly believed that recessive Omegas produced weaker pheromones than dominant ones. But if someone like Idelli Grace were to start questioning hers… things could become very problematic.

Riche preferred being the one conducting observations from outside the experiment chamber.

She had no intention of becoming the one under the scalpel.

If the quest required her to form connections with various Alphas, then fine. That was one thing.

But enduring pain for the sake of research?

That was an entirely different matter.

In this dimension, human body research was notoriously barbaric—if an unusual case appeared, they would dissect it down to the very organs.

Without a powerful backer to protect her, Riche had no choice but to be cautious.

Besides, if she could fully control her pheromones, she could lure Idelli Grace into letting his guard down.

Riche hopped down from the side table.

With a flick of her toe, she nudged aside the loose-fitting healer’s robe that had fallen at Laska’s feet, then stepped forward, standing right in front of him.

Laska looked utterly disheveled, like a fallen angel who had just been defiled.

His shirt, completely unbuttoned, had slipped open on both sides, fully exposing his chest.

His smooth, pristine white skin contrasted sharply with the firm muscles etched across his torso, running both horizontally and vertically. It was a solid, sculpted body, free of excess fat.

On his chest, two faintly pink nipples clung to his skin, barely noticeable.

Without thinking, Riche reached out and gave one of them a quick poke.

“Ahh—!”

Laska threw his head back, a heated breath escaping his pale lips.

His skin was flushed, tinged with a faint reddish hue…

Riche sniffed the air.

The dominant scent in the room was the sweet fragrance of peaches.

But mingled within it was something sharper, a cool herbal scent that stung faintly at her nose—stronger and more bitter than peppermint.

Laska’s alpha pheromones were floating in the air.

Compared to the arousal evident on his face, the amount he was releasing was surprisingly minimal.

Riche was impressed.

Laska’s self-control was remarkable.

Most promiscuous alphas were notoriously bad at suppressing their pheromones.

And while dominant alphas were naturally better at restraint, Laska was on another level entirely.

“The pheromone concentration in this room is currently at 70 percent,” Riche remarked.

“H-How… is that possible? That you can quantify pheromones like that…?”

Laska bit his lips, his voice strained as he questioned her.

Even as omega pheromones seeped into his body, he remained rational—focused, composed.

Riche smiled.

She felt the thrill of a prospector stumbling upon a gold mine in an uncharted land.

‘He’ll make an excellent research partner.’

The thought of all the discoveries she could make with the cooperation of an alpha partner put her in an even better mood.

She liked Laska.

So, she responded gently.

“That’s classified research information. Any scholar who’s built up an archive of knowledge has their own little secrets.”

“That just sounds like an excuse.”

On top of everything, he was perceptive, too.

“How are you feeling right now?”

Laska’s eyes wavered with hesitation.

Riche immediately noticed his reluctance to answer.

This time, she didn’t smile. She kept her expression serious.

“This is research, Healer Laska Medichina. The more we understand alpha-omega pheromones, the better we can treat recessive traits and patients with pheromone regulation disorders.”

“…”

“Think of it as just another study.”

It was a convincing argument.

But when a throbbing, fully erect organ was caught between them, theory alone was hardly enough. Laska, intelligent yet inherently gentle-hearted, was completely at a loss against Riche’s boldness.

“But I… I can’t just—ahh…!”

Riche lifted his foot and slapped Laska’s erect penis.

His was pinkish in colour, unlike Kairos’s and Raymond’s. It was straight, with no curves, and the blunt glans was unusually thick. When aroused, the penis became saturated and deep pink.

“It looks very pure.”

“Please… don’t say things like that.”

“I’ll think about it if Laska gives a good answer. So, how do you feel?”

“…It’s, huff, hard to endure.”

Riche struck his genitals once more, and Laska spoke in a husky voice. Then he shut up again, as if ashamed of his frankness. Riche was furious. Laska was an excellent research partner, with heart, knowledge, and wisdom, but he was too soft-hearted and conservative. It wasn’t like him to be an Alpha Omega, which was why he could be a great partner, but she wished he’d be a little more assertive at times like this.

‘It would be nice if you considered yourself and me as subjects of study.’

Clicking her tongue, Riche stared at him with a contemplative expression. Her blue eyes gleamed with intelligence and allure, making Laska squeeze his eyes shut. His manhood swelled with intimidating force.