I Became the Omega in a Game - Chapter 6

“I’ve wanted you for a long time. You know it. I know it. We’ve both always known it,” Raymond said, his voice low and steady, each word dripping with longing.

“…”

“And I know you want it too,” he added softly, his words pressing into the silence like a blade.

Idelli didn’t respond immediately. Riche, still crouched under the table, felt a flicker of curiosity. What kind of expression was Idelli wearing right now? It wouldn’t be one of embarrassment or shock—Riche was certain of that much.

After a brief pause, Idelli finally spoke, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation.

“No. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Raymond let out a small, bitter laugh.

“You’ve slept with every pathetic guy in this room, and yet you won’t sleep with me? What’s the reason for that?”

“For your information, I haven’t slept with him,” Idelli retorted sharply, her voice laced with mock indignation. “Oh, look at him, though—he’s so far gone he doesn’t even know where he is.”

Raymond scoffed. “In that state, do you think he could even give it to you properly?”

Idelli burst into laughter, loud and unabashed, as if Raymond’s crude remark were the funniest joke she’d ever heard. Even her voice carried the heavy scent of alcohol.

“Don’t you know? Even with apples, the ones hanging from the highest branches look the most tempting. Humans always long for the stars they can’t reach,” she said, her tone dripping with both amusement and arrogance.

“…”

“Do you really think you know me so well?” Raymond retorted, his voice laced with irritation.

Idelli replied in a tone that was so sweet it almost sounded childish, even to Riche, who remained crouched nearby, listening.

“Don’t I, though? How many years have we known each other? Do you have any idea how many women you’ve slept with and discarded? I’d never let you treat me like that.”

“As if anyone would dare treat the great Idelli Grace like that,” Raymond said with a smirk.

“Are you so sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t trust men when they’re sure of themselves. But I do trust their desire to own me.”

“…That’s a dull thing to say. Are you really refusing to sleep with me because you’re scared I’d use you and toss you aside? Where’s your confidence?”

“I just want something a bit more exciting, Raymond Strigo. And this—what we’re doing now—is what’s most exciting to me when it comes to you.”

At first, Riche had been attentively eavesdropping on the exchange, her curiosity piqued. But the longer she listened, the clearer it became that this was nothing more than a garden-variety lovers’ quarrel. It wasn’t the kind of thing that interested her.

“Come here, Idelli. You won’t refuse a kiss, will you?”

Propping her chin up on her hand, Riche let out a quiet sigh. The sound of shuffling followed, then wet, messy sounds of lips and tongues meeting filled the room.

Riche stayed still for a moment, but as the sounds deepened and grew louder, she decided she’d had enough.

Carefully, she shuffled backward, making her way toward the door. Leaving the serving cart behind, she tiptoed across the room and gently opened the door just wide enough to slip out.

As soon as the door closed, the suggestive sounds inside abruptly stopped.

Leaning against the door, Riche let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Now what?”

Her stomach was full, thanks to the food she had snagged earlier in the kitchen, but she had no desire to linger outside the room.

After a brief moment of thought, she decided to head to the employee break room.

The small, dimly lit room was simple, with a long sofa and shelves that suggested it doubled as a storage space. Because it wasn’t particularly inviting, most employees didn’t bother to use it, which suited Riche perfectly.

She lay down on the sofa, letting her back press against the worn fabric. Out of habit, she opened her status window to check her pheromone levels.

[Omega Pheromone Concentration: 10]

“A level of 10. What does that even mean?”

Her pheromone concentration had always been unusually low, even for an omega. Though her secondary traits as an omega had manifested a year ago, for over six months, no one had even suspected her status. A level of 10 wasn’t exactly high either—it was low enough that most would reasonably mistake her for a beta.

“And yet Kairos was more excited than I expected.”

Thinking back, she considered herself lucky. Kairos, a man who typically didn’t even see omegas as viable partners unless they reached his exacting standards, had made an exception for her.

“Based on the data I’ve collected so far, dominant omegas tend to have a baseline pheromone concentration of around 70 on a scale of 1 to 100.”

Her only point of reference for this was Idelli Grace, the only dominant omega she had encountered in this world.

A concentration of 70 was significant. For comparison, she recalled the pheromones Mikhail had released when he was aroused—those had measured around 50 to 60. She had witnessed one of Mikhail and Janice’s intimate moments by accident, and the memory of his overwhelming pheromones lingered in her mind.

“If I could measure the pheromone concentration of an aroused dominant omega, it would make my comparisons much easier.”

If she set 70 as the baseline for dominant omegas’ everyday pheromone levels, then ordinary omegas likely fell somewhere between 30 and 40.

“That means my pheromone concentration is closer to that of a recessive omega.”

Unlike most people, Riche could smell her own pheromones. Up until now, her scent had always carried a sweet, peachy aroma.

“I wonder if it still smells the same?”

Curious, Riche whispered to herself,
“Pheromone bloom.”

With a quiet click, something within her loosened. The sensation was subtle but distinct, like a faucet being turned on deep inside her body. Pheromones began to seep out, spreading gently through the air.

She sank deeper into the sofa, her body relaxing as she exhaled slowly.

“Huuuh…”

A faint, sweet aroma began to emanate from her, saturating the space. Curious, Riche leaned forward, sniffing lightly at the air. But to confirm it more precisely, she brought her nose directly to the crook of her arm, inhaling deeply.

It’s stronger than before, she thought, taking note of the subtle increase in intensity.

As she immersed herself in the study of her own pheromone scent, savoring the changes, the door suddenly burst open.

Bang!

Riche jolted upright, startled, her torso lifting awkwardly off the sofa.

What the hell?!

Sharp, deliberate footsteps echoed against the floor. Click. The sound of polished shoes entering the room reverberated in the small space.

Thud.

Riche shifted further upright, the sound of her skin brushing against the leather sofa faint but noticeable.

And then, piercing through the dim light, crimson eyes locked onto her.