I Became the Omega in a Game - Chapter 37

“Oh, really? Wait, how do you know that? Oh, right! He was a guest here recently. You must’ve heard it from him then!”

Elza nodded as if she had figured it out. Riche clicked her tongue at her slip-up but played along.

Though she had only just heard about Raymond, she had known about Kairos’s departure for some time—because he had told her himself.

Kairos had been redeployed to the conflict zones. Though he had successfully conquered the city of Evelyn, a delayed message had arrived, reporting that Evelyn’s mainland had dispatched a large army in response. He had no choice but to leave immediately before losing the city he had just seized. Their meeting had been brief. Riche recalled the sight of Kairos’s imposing back as he rode toward the battlefield.

Absentmindedly, she touched the base of her pinky finger, where a simple yet elegant ring rested.

“This is a symbol of my heart,” Kairos had said as he slid the ring onto her finger.

“When I return victorious, wear it and greet me. I will repay you.”

“Repay me?”

“Is there something you want?”

“What if I ask for something unreasonable?” she had teased.

Kairos had merely chuckled, his fingers slowly caressing the delicate ring on her hand. There had been something unreadable in his gaze before he whispered:

“Anything. Even marriage.”

She had been too stunned to respond.

Kairos Strigo is a good man.

For the first time, Riche thought of him not as a research subject or an experiment, but as a person—a man.

A noble knight who valued loyalty and honor. A cultured aristocrat who still made time to read despite being in the thick of war. He had an air of superiority and arrogance, which could be off-putting, but at his core, he was fair. He had never once looked down on her, despite her lower status.

Idelli Grace was like an oncoming storm—one she needed shelter from. And there was no better shield than Kairos Strigo.

If she ever found herself unable to leave, then perhaps staying by his side wouldn’t be such a bad option.

It was the most logical choice.

And Raymond, now consumed by his love for Idelli, would no longer be an obstacle.

But not yet.

Unless she was absolutely certain she could never return, it wasn’t time to make that decision.

She had to go back.

She had spent a year in this world, unable to speak or read its language, like a mute. The struggles she had endured were unimaginable. She was not an overly sentimental person, but even she had felt the pangs of homesickness.

* * *

That evening, after finishing work, Riche headed to the Medicina Healing Center.

Seated in the luxurious carriage Laska had sent for her, she felt a thrill of anticipation, so much so that the passing scenery barely registered in her mind.

Like a racehorse fixated on the finish line, her steps carried her directly to Laska. The imposing structure of the Medicina Healing Center loomed before her, towering buildings flickering behind it like illusions. Squinting slightly as if the sight was too dazzling, she quickened her pace.

Thanks to Laska’s prior arrangements, she passed through without any security checks and went straight to his laboratory. The moment she stepped inside, he removed his glasses and greeted her with a bright smile.

“You’re here, Riche.”

Once upon a time, Laska’s dark eyes had been cold and expressionless, like unfeeling ice. But now, they shimmered in response to her presence. Somewhere along the way, his demeanor had softened. He smiled at her—warmly, even kindly.

And that wasn’t the only thing that had changed.

“You always arrive by carriage,” he observed. “But you don’t seem to live in the capital.”

“My workplace provides room and board.”

“Can you tell me where that is?”

His voice was gentle as he asked, pressing soft kisses against her chest.

Riche ran her fingers through his fine hair in silence.

Lately, Laska had been asking more and more questions. Had it been purely academic curiosity, she wouldn’t have minded. But unfortunately, his interest lay in her personal affairs.

Worse, he still assumed she worked at a tavern because of what had happened with Gobert.

Ever since she had tucked away her pendant—the one that proved her true identity—after the incident with Gobert, she had stopped displaying it altogether. As a result, Laska didn’t even know the exact name of the establishment where she worked.

When she didn’t answer, he muttered in mild frustration.

“You still won’t tell me.”

He could just ask Gobert, but he’s too rigid for that.

Riche smirked to herself.

This was already the third time he had asked. The last time, she had bluntly told him it was a difficult topic to discuss. She had thought he had let it go. Apparently not. He was more persistent than she had expected.

“It would be embarrassing for me to show you my work.”

“Ah…”

Laska’s gaze clouded over. He was likely caught up in the implications of the word tavern.

“…By any chance—”

“Oh, no. It’s not a brothel.”

Caught red-handed, Laska clamped his mouth shut.

Riche studied his face carefully. A flicker of emotions passed through his eyes—uncertainty, hesitation, relief.

She didn’t miss a single one.

So, is he unsettled by the idea that his research partner might be a tavern girl?

“If you’re worried that I’ll damage your reputation—”

“No, it’s not that,” he interrupted firmly.

Laska shook his head firmly.

“If you’re doing something against your will, perhaps I could help…”

“……”

“It was just a passing thought.”

His dark eyes, usually so composed, flickered with an intense passion—like a noble youth hopelessly in love.

Riche blinked, then let out a bright, bird-like laugh.

“There’s been a misunderstanding. My workplace isn’t as bad as you think. It’s just too busy and chaotic for me to invite you.”

She mixed a bit of truth with a lie, hoping to make him drop the subject.

In reality, there was nothing particularly difficult about showing him where she worked. If anything, having Laska request her at Queen would earn her an incentive. Financially, it would be beneficial.

But money was of little concern to Riche.

With Kairos, Raymond, and Idelli Grace already entangled with Queen, adding Laska to the mix would only make things more troublesome. She had no intention of letting her “test subjects” become aware of each other.

“That doesn’t matter to me at all,” Laska said, his expression darkening. “I wouldn’t get in your way.”

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he added, “Would it be alright if I found out on my own? I promise I wouldn’t be a nuisance.”

His disappointment turned into renewed determination. His curiosity was relentless.

When Riche didn’t respond, Laska hesitated for a moment—then pressed a kiss to her neck.

“Then, in return… would you go on a date with me?”

His voice was low, laced with both anticipation and nervousness.

Riche absentmindedly stroked the back of his neck, staring at the ceiling.

So that’s what he wants?

That’s not too much to ask.

Laska was an invaluable ally. Indulging a small request or two was an investment in their future cooperation.

“You make it impossible to say no.”

“……”

“Alright, Laska.”

He let out a deep breath, clearly relieved, and pulled her slender waist into a firm embrace. The strength of his hold made it obvious how happy her answer made him.

Riche smirked wryly.

“Laska.”

“Yes?”

“I have a request.”

“Anything.”

His voice was slightly muffled against her chest, but his unwavering tone reassured her.

She had the distinct impression that, whatever she asked, he would grant it.

“I want access to the Magic Tower.”

Laska lifted his head.

There was no surprise in his eyes. In fact, he looked almost amused—like he had been expecting this all along.

Riche raised an eyebrow.

“You already knew I’d ask?”

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

“……”

“The Magic Tower is the best place to satisfy your intellectual curiosity, isn’t it?”

His sharp gaze softened, melting into warmth. A touch of affection lingered in his steady eyes.

Riche was momentarily caught off guard.

The Magic Tower was revered even in this world, a place so exclusive that even nobles struggled to gain entry. She had expected at least some resistance—yet his reaction was entirely positive.

“I’ll issue you an entry permit.”

Without hesitation, he agreed. As he spoke, his fingers gently smoothed a strand of hair that had fallen over her shoulder.

“It will bear my name, so no one will question it. You are now under the guarantee of Laska Medicina. Even the Tower Master is familiar with me—if you use my name, you may even be able to speak with them directly.”

His words were casual, but Riche immediately grasped their weight.

Any visitor to the Magic Tower who caused trouble would become the responsibility of their sponsor.

By giving her his name, Laska was accepting full accountability for anything she might do there.

“You’d even lend me your name? What exactly makes you trust me this much?”

Riche ran a finger along the edge of her jaw thoughtfully.

Laska let out a soft sigh.

“I just do.”

“And what if I go in there and cause havoc?”

“……”

“…Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing,” he said, his lips curving slightly. “Even if you do, what does it matter? One Riche is something I can more than handle under the Medicina name. Walk in with confidence. My name carries that much weight.”

Riche found it refreshing to hear Laska speak with such authority—it was rare for him to assert his influence so openly.

Noticing her amused expression, Laska grinned mischievously.

“But honestly, I can’t picture you causing trouble, Riche.”

“……?”

“If a civil war broke out in the middle of the capital, I imagine you wouldn’t panic at all. You’d calmly find the basement of a civilian house and wait there until everything settled.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Well, that’s what I would do.”

“You’re wrong.”

Laska, who had spoken so confidently, furrowed his brows.