Luo Wenchuan walked away, as if unwilling to continue the conversation.
After snapping back to reality, Ke Lei hurried after Luo Wenchuan, lowering his voice as he said, “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I know you’re very concerned about Yun Xingze being an Omega, and I also know…”
Here, Ke Lei paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly before continuing in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible: “I also know you’re allergic to Omega pheromones.”
The air froze for a second after these words were spoken.
But Luo Wenchuan’s expression remained unchanged as he continued striding forward.
“However, compared to Yun Xingze’s abilities, these are minor issues.” Ke Lei attempted to persuade him. “As long as suppressants are used, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Luo Wenchuan suddenly stopped walking; his voice icy: “It seems you’ve truly forgotten about that match.”
Realizing he’d crossed a line, Ke Lei quickly apologized: “I’m sorry.”
Luo Wenchuan walked out through the stadium tunnel, his tall, elegant figure exuding complete detachment.
Yet Ke Lei could tell his mood was terrible. Regret washed over him: “Why did I bring this up? This guy has decided to stay away from Omegas for life.” His tone carried a hint of sympathy.
After exiting, Luo Wenchuan slowed his pace.
The previously clear sky had suddenly darkened, layers of clouds obscuring the azure expanse as a light drizzle threatened to begin.
This wouldn’t affect the match though; the stands remained filled with enthusiastic cheers.
The noise didn’t reach Luo Wenchuan’s ears. He was recalling Ke Lei’s earlier words.
Everyone knew Luo Wenchuan feared Omegas, but few understood the real reason behind it.
His allergic reaction to Omega pheromones had been with him since age seven over a decade now. Doctors had said unless he found someone with 95% pheromone compatibility, the allergy couldn’t be overcome.
A 90% match already had only one in a thousand odds. As for that elusive 95% match? The genetic database still hadn’t produced a single candidate.
Where other alphas would feel their pulse quicken at an Omega’s scent, Luo Wenchuan would experience physical discomfort in severe cases, even cardiac shock.
During last year’s national championship, he’d faced an S-rank Omega opponent.
That Omega had entered pre-heat before the match. Despite hastily administering suppressants and scent blockers, traces of pheromones had transferred to Luo Wenchuan’s hand during their greeting, causing momentary distraction mid-match that left scratches on his mech.
Though Luo Wenchuan had overcome the reaction through sheer willpower and won the match, he’d still been violently ill afterward.
When Ke Lei learned about the allergy, he’d been overwhelmed with pity.
Wasn’t this basically a life sentence of solitude?
How tragic!
Yet Luo Wenchuan himself never cared about finding a partner.
Nor had he ever grieved over it.
Solitude was simply his normal.
The true intolerable part? That something existed he couldn’t conquer something that had nearly cost him victory through momentary weakness.
That was all.
Which was why Luo Wenchuan would absolutely never consider an Omega as his personal mech engineer. The risk was simply too great.
Meanwhile, Yun Xingze had arrived at the backstage locker room to change out of his training uniform.
A dull ache throbbed once more on the right side of his neck. He reached up to rub it, but the discomfort persisted.
After putting on his school uniform, Yun Xingze suddenly recalled a similar experience from the original owner’s memories. His eyes widened in realization as he swiftly opened his light computer to search for symptoms of a heat cycle.
The screen displayed messages from Lu Ranxu and Oliar:
[Oliar: Congrats on winning the match! Ranxu and I are heading to the next arena. Get some rest.]
[Lu Ranxu: You were amazing, Xingze beating Kalibo like that! But don’t overexert yourself these next few days. Isn’t your heat cycle due in about three days? Make sure you have suppressants ready!]
Yun Xingze’s heart plummeted into an abyss.
He’d nearly forgotten he was an Omega!
The words “heat cycle” struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly disoriented. In his original world, there were no Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, let alone something as terrifying as a heat cycle. The original owner’s memories told him that for Omegas, a heat cycle meant losing all rationality, succumbing to primal urges a horrifying ordeal without suppressants.
Frantic, Yun Xingze gathered his things and pulled out a handful of tissues from his bag, roughly wiping the scent gland on the right side of his neck. No scent yet his pheromones hadn’t started leaking.
He had to get back to his dorm immediately!
Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he turned toward the door, only for his legs to buckle the moment he stepped out. He barely caught himself from falling.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright against the wall, clutching his aching neck, fighting to stay conscious through sheer willpower.
When Su Zinan arrived backstage, he spotted Yun Xingze’s unusual behavior from around the corner.
The pale-skinned boy was slumped against the wall, one hand pressed to his neck, his damp hair disheveled. His delicate brows were furrowed, his dark eyes tinged red, his chest rising and falling unevenly from distress.
As an Omega himself, Su Zinan instantly recognized what was happening his heart lurched.
In the next second, he spun around and blocked Chi Yu’s path.
Chi Yu blinked. “What’s wrong?”
“Yu-ge, I suddenly don’t feel well.” Su Zinan’s eyes welled up, his voice trembling with feigned fragility. “I think my heat cycle came early.”
Chi Yu frowned. “What? You’re in heat today? Why didn’t you take suppressants?!”
“I did, but I still feel awful.” Su Zinan bit his lip, clutching his neck as he stubbornly barred the way. “Yu-ge, could you take me to the infirmary?”
Now that Chi Yu had started taking an interest in Yun Xingze, Su Zinan couldn’t let him see the state Yun Xingze was in.
“But I was just going to find Yun Xingze,” Chi Yu hesitated. “Can’t you go alone?”
“You know how dangerous a heat cycle is for an Omega.” Su Zinan’s voice cracked with a sob. “If you leave me alone and some Alpha catches my scent, I’m done for.”
Chi Yu knew it too—an Omega in heat was physically vulnerable, mentally fragile. If they drew the attention of an Alpha, they’d be powerless to resist, reduced to helpless prey.
“Then I’ll go say a word to Xingze,” Chi Yu said, “and then accompany you.”
Su Zinan lowered his head: “Yu-ge, I consider you a good brother, that’s why I asked you to come with me… You’re the only one I trust. I feel like my pheromones could surge at any moment, and this is backstage—other Alphas will be coming in soon. It’s really dangerous.”
“Alright, alright, I get it.” Chi Yu was startled by Su Zinan’s state. “Then I’ll take you to the infirmary right now and find him later.”
“Forget it, I’ll go by myself. If anything happens, I won’t blame you.” Su Zinan’s eyes welled up with tears as he whispered, “Xingze must be more important to you than I am.”
“Let’s go, hurry up.” Chi Yu frowned impatiently. “Stop with the nonsense.”
With that, he turned and walked away, signaling for Su Zinan to follow.
Su Zinan weakly pressed a hand to his neck as he trailed behind.
Before leaving, Chi Yu felt a twinge of regret; he still hadn’t managed to speak to Yun Xingze. Thinking this, he couldn’t help but glance back toward the locker room and saw Yun Xingze leaning against the wall, looking exhausted.
“Yu-ge, I feel awful!” Su Zinan said, his eyes red. “Let’s hurry!” His voice was urgent.
Not daring to delay, Chi Yu averted his gaze and quickened his pace.
He thought that once he took Su Zinan to the infirmary, he’d come back to find Yun Xingze and treat him to a meal. Surely, Xingze would be touched.
Lost in these thoughts, Chi Yu failed to notice the fleeting glint of triumph in Su Zinan’s eyes.
