Omega Manual chapter 33
Wait for you
Shelley was in an unfortunate position, right at the other end of the gun.
In an instant, his white suit was splattered with blood.
The world fell silent for a moment, then various terrified screams rang out, and the patrolman was stunned, chaos erupting among everyone.
An indescribable sense of absurdity rose from the depths of Shelley’s chest as he stared blankly at the corpse lying on the ground, unable to look away.
It wasn’t until Irey reached out and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around, “Don’t look, leave this to the police, let’s go.”
Shelley grabbed Irey’s wrist, his grip so strong that it made the latter wince in pain.
“I know why I feel like I’ve seen him before,” Shelley muttered, “I’ve met him, he’s Eddie Cecil, a famous painter, every painting of his sells for millions, and Manta tech even invited him for a promotional video once. He’s ranked among the wealthiest in the art world, he…”
Irey fell silent for a few seconds, then grasped Shelley’s hand in return, exerting more force than Shelley had just used, “Let’s go.”
Shelley was dragged a few staggering steps, finally being pulled away from the immensely chaotic scene by Irey.
Along the way, there were constantly onlookers gathering on the roadside.
“Was that a gunshot just now?”
“I heard someone died?”
“Yeah, it seems to be an Omega…”
The door of the old house closed behind them, shutting out all the cruelty and absurdity.
Shelley leaned against the wall, as if just realizing he could breathe, panting heavily, and then his brows furrowed, rushing into the bathroom to vomit.
Irey sat down on the sofa, took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapped it on the coffee table, and the only cigarette in it fell out.
He lit it up, taking a deep drag.
The smell of smoke spread in the living room. After a while, he finally remembered that Shelley didn’t like the smell of smoke, so he got up from the sofa, walked to the window, and opened it.
The cold wind blew, and the area near the meteorite was still bustling with activity. More police officers ran past, and a dead sparrow lay on the edge of the windowsill.
The sound of the toilet flushing came from the bathroom, followed by the sound of dirty clothes being thrown into a basket, and finally the sound of the water heater starting and the showerhead running.
Irey reached out and flicked the dead sparrow off the windowsill.
The small body fell into the abyss without making any sound.
Shelley took an unusually long time to take a bath. If it weren’t for occasional sounds coming from the bathroom, Irey would almost have thought his boss had drowned in there.
Fortunately, when he emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, he looked no different from usual.
His golden long hair hung wet, sticking to his neck, water droplets slowly falling down his hair and quickly absorbed by the towel. His deep blue eyes were covered with a layer of mist, seemingly more hazy and unreadable than usual, hiding the emotions inside.
The living room was dark, and Irey sat on the sofa, idly flicking the lighter, the firelight intermittently illuminating his profile.
Upon hearing the sound behind him, he draped an arm over the back of the sofa and turned to look at Shelley, “Done with your shower?”
In the background, the dim light from the bathroom was the only source of light in the entire house.
“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” Shelley lowered his head to towel his hair.
“Waiting for you,” Irey said.
The simple two words carried an ambiguous undertone.
Was he waiting for him to finish showering so he could use the bathroom? Or was he concerned about his safety, so he waited for him to come out?
Or does “not sleeping yet” mean “waiting for you to join me”?
Shelley didn’t respond to Irey’s words, just mechanically continued to towel his hair, and Irey didn’t say anything more either. They remained silent, separated by a brief moment of darkness.
“When you were in Lansai, didn’t you also steal things?” Shelley spoke up, breaking the silence, “But you were never caught, why?”
Irey remained silent for a moment, “Because I’m an Alpha, and so are the police and prison guards. They don’t want to clash with people of the same gender, so it’s easier to get away with it.”
“What happens to those Omega who get caught breaking the law?”
“I don’t know,” Irey said.
Another long silence ensued.
“On Offering Day, if you hadn’t shown up at the bar to take me away, I would have ended up like Cecil, taken away by the police to some unknown place, right?” Shelley asked.
Irey threw the lighter onto the coffee table and stood up from the sofa, “There’s no ‘if’. That’s in the past now. It just happened that I was in that bar at that time, and I marked you.”
Shelley didn’t speak for a long time. From the backlighting of his eyes, Irey couldn’t read any discernible emotions. He stood there like a delicate porcelain doll, with no change in posture or gaze.
“Boss.” Irey emphasized, repeating once more, “There are no ‘ifs.'”
Shelley closed his eyes, then opened them again quickly. “How’s your sensitivity period?”
“Basically no reaction,” Irey didn’t know why he suddenly asked.
“If we leave early tomorrow morning, do you have any issues?” Shelley asked.
Irey took a deep breath, for a moment his expression seemed like he was about to curse, but he ultimately just let out a slow breath. “None.”
Shelley nodded without saying anything more, then walked straight back to his bedroom and closed the door.
The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to brighten, a conspicuous red sports car drove out of the outskirts of Leisau. The roaring engine attracted the attention of many early risers heading into the city. Dust flew up as the wheels spun rapidly, leaving behind a small dust storm before disappearing into the distance.
The dilapidated, backward, occasionally cheerful yet cruelly absurd city gradually fell behind as the speed increased.
The last scene left in sight was the edge of a collapsed wall, where a stray dog wagged its tail while gnawing on something in a black garbage bag.
Irey shifted his gaze back and glanced at Shelley, who was sitting in the passenger seat.
His white suit stained with blood was no longer worn; instead, he wore a dark brown overcoat. This attire made him appear more mature than any of his previous outfits, giving Irey a substantial understanding of his boss’s age for the first time.
Shelley remained silent throughout the journey, leaning against the seat and looking out the window with his head turned to the side, his slender eyelashes fluttering lightly, his face devoid of any expression.
It was as if they were back to when they had just departed from Nantes.
The journey from Leisau to Duhaat was very distant, passing through a long stretch of uninhabited area. The terrain was no longer flat plains but began to feature many uneven hills, requiring careful navigation amidst possible landslides and meteorite debris.
The performance of the sports car was indeed excellent, but the road conditions were atrocious.
Before the meteorite showers, there were many elevated bridges and subways in this area. However, post-disaster, these roads were either destroyed or collapsed, and train routes would detour around this difficult area.
Irey had originally suggested they bypass this area and take a longer but safer route, but after a moment of silence, Shelley said, “If possible, I still want to arrive as soon as possible.” Why? To save fuel?
Irey certainly didn’t dare to utter such a joke.
He didn’t understand why Shelley sometimes seemed to want to delay the departure time while at other times was anxious to reach the mountaintop the next day.
But he seemed to vaguely understand.
The only certainty was that he had no right or position to express any opinions on this journey. He was just the driver hired by Shelley, whose only task was to transport him to that desolate mountain top as per the boss’s arrangements.
In the vast uninhabited area, dust filled the air, and Irey even suspected that they might be the only ones to set foot in this area in five years.
The sports car traversed the uneven mountain roads for a whole day. By midday, the hills disappeared, replaced by endless desert. The sun moved from the east to the west, and the area filled with yellow soil and gravel remained unchanged. There were no people, no animals, and no visible reference points.
If not for the complete GPS function still available on Shelley’s phone, Irey couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t get lost in this vast desert.
At six-thirty in the afternoon, the monotonous scenery finally showed a slight change. Several tall desert trees appeared in view, and some wild grass stubbornly grew in the crevices of gravel. As the vehicle approached, several wild birds flew out from the woods.
Irey decisively stepped on the brakes, and the tires collided with the gravel, emitting a loud friction sound before gradually coming to a halt.
“We can’t go any further,” he opened the car door and glanced at the sky. “It’s almost dark; we’d better spend the night in this tent first.”
This time Shelley didn’t show any objections, just nodded and got out of the car.
The two of them spent some time setting up the tent on the difficult-to-stand gravel beach. The tent was a high-quality one bought by Shelley in Nantes; otherwise, it would be difficult to wedge it in such terrain.
Wild birds perched on the branches of tall trees, and amidst the vast and desolate desert, the fiery red sports car and the green tent seemed like visitors from another world, contrasting sharply with the surrounding environment.
Night fell quickly, and the desert, without the heat island effect, cooled rapidly, soon becoming bone-chilling.
Irey picked up a pile of dry branches nearby and threw them in front of the tent. He saw Shelley wrapped in his coat, huddled in the corner of the tent, holding his knees, nibbling on a piece of cold bread.
Irey lit a match and tossed it into the pile of branches, watching the flame slowly rise and grow stronger.
The warm flame was just a few steps away from Shelley, but he never lifted his head, still nibbling the cold bread sluggishly.
Just as he was about to take another bite, the bread in his hand was suddenly taken away and replaced with a small stick with several steaming marshmallows skewered on it.
Shelley paused for a moment, looked up, and found Irey sitting cross-legged by the campfire.
“Don’t eat the cold stuff; try this,” Irey raised his chin.