Omega Manual chapter 37

A Person Worth Protecting

Shelley’s beautiful blue eyes clearly conveyed one message: Are you crazy?

Seats were limited, and many people on the train were sitting like this—mothers with children, couples, even close friends—stacked together with no regard for personal space.

But Shelley was someone who drove sports cars and insisted on first-class flights. The thought of sitting on someone’s lap in public was unimaginable.

Irey, however, didn’t seem to grasp this.

“Hurry up,” Irey urged, patting his thigh. “A long trip like this, you’ll get tired.”

Shelley’s face turned red. “No way!”

By this time, the crowd had already pushed him to the edge of Irey’s seat, his expensive coat wrinkled and even missing a button, looking as disheveled as could be.

It was clear that his legs were so weak he could barely stand. The only thing keeping him upright was the press of people around him.

Irey, exasperated by his stubborn boss, reached out and pulled at his arm. “Come on, just sit down.”

“No!” Shelley slapped his hand away, glaring.

Irey grabbed him again. “Everyone’s sitting like this, it’s not just you.”

“No!” Shelley insisted stubbornly.

“If you sit down, no one will look at you. Keep arguing, and the whole train will watch us fight,” Irey whispered.

Shelley’s face flushed. He glanced around, seeing a few people quickly avert their eyes.

Taking advantage of this, Irey hooked his arm around his waist and pulled him down. Shelley’s weakened legs gave way, and he plopped down onto Irey’s lap.

Irey skillfully wrapped his arms around Shelley’s upper body to keep him from standing up.

After so long, Shelley’s leg muscles were exhausted. The moment he sat down, he lost all strength, unable to even shift forward.

His butt was firmly pressed against Irey’s hips, every contact point radiating warmth and elasticity. He could even feel the creases in Irey’s jeans.

“You…” Shelley tried to struggle, but his legs trembled with any movement.

Was Irey still in his sensitive period? Or was his body temperature naturally this high?

Even Irey’s breath on the back of his neck felt scorching hot.

“Boss, you’re really thin,” Irey commented, encircling Shelley’s waist with his arms, his chin occasionally brushing his neck. “In Nantes, you ate all kinds of rich food, but you didn’t gain any weight.”

“Who told you I ate rich food every day?” Shelley retorted through gritted teeth.

“Your diet must still be better than mine.” Irey traced a finger over Shelley’s stomach. “Not an ounce of fat, light as a feather.”

“Yeah, if I were two hundred pounds, I could crush you to death,” Shelley said, teeth clenched.

Irey burst into uncontrollable laughter, his head shaking near Shelley’s temple. The hot breath on Shelley’s ear gave him goosebumps, and he instinctively tried to pull away.

However, his legs still wouldn’t cooperate, resulting in nothing but a few awkward squirming movements on Irey’s lap.

Irey sucked in a breath, holding Shelley’s knee, “Don’t move, or I’ll get hard.”

Shelley glanced at him coldly, a cruel smile on his lips, “Go ahead, you deserve it.”

Irey finally understood what it meant to shoot yourself in the foot.

For two whole hours, they remained tangled together in this awkwardly intimate position. The numbness in his legs was one thing, but the constant warmth and pheromones from Shelley’s body, like infernal flames, tormented his nerves.

The alluring scent of Shelley’s glands hovered just inches away, but all Irey could do was inhale its fragrance, unable to act on it.

Shelley’s skin seemed resistant to scarring. The deep wound from the previous marking had healed, leaving no trace, barely visible now.

Even the pheromones injected into that mark were fading, their scent growing fainter and fainter.

The effect of a temporary mark lasted at most one month. After a month, Shelley would be physically free again and revert to an Omega that didn’t belong to anyone.

Every time he thought about this, Irey had the urge to bite down again. He could only close his eyes, take a deep breath, and forcefully drive the thought out of his mind.

Fortunately, he was rather lucky. Two hours later, the big brother sitting next to him by the window got up to get off the train, leaving an empty seat.

Irey sighed in relief but noticed that Shelley, who was sitting on his lap, had no intention of moving.

Upon closer inspection, he realized Shelley had fallen asleep at some point.

He must have been exhausted from the long journey. Shelley didn’t even tilt his head; he just slept straight up with his eyes closed. If you listened closely, you could hear his steady breathing.

Irey held Shelley’s shoulder with one hand and supported his waist with the other, gently placing him in the seat by the window. He carefully let his head rest against the seat back.

Shelley, who would normally wake at the sound of a cat’s meow, didn’t stir despite all this movement. His eyelids remained heavily shut, and his long eyelashes occasionally trembled.

Irey watched his profile as he took out a cigarette, lit it, and turned his head to slowly exhale towards the crowd on the other side.

After nightfall, the temperature outside dropped several degrees rapidly. The glass window became wet and cold, fogged up by Shelley’s breath.

The train moved like a monstrous beast, traveling day and night through the dark abyss. Moonlight shone on the tracks, casting only a faint shadow. The rest was swallowed by the deafening rumble, seemingly able to drown everything.

For instance, the woman who was crushed into a pulp under the wheels, or the painter who cursed the world and then shot himself.

Shelley’s head slid down bit by bit with the train’s motion until he could no longer support it. He frowned, shifted, and naturally rested his head on Irey’s shoulder.

Irey turned slightly to make him more comfortable.

“You have a good relationship with your Omega,” said a male Beta wearing glasses sitting across from them, looking their way.

“Most Omegas I’ve seen aren’t this close with their Alphas,” the man with glasses said. “They’re either overly cautious or just stay silent with their heads down.”

Irey exhaled a puff of smoke, flicking the ash carelessly to the ground. “If you treat others like people, they’ll treat you like people. If you don’t understand such a simple principle, you might as well not live.”

The man with glasses nodded thoughtfully.

“But ‘boss’—is that a dialect?” the man with glasses asked curiously. “I heard you call him that.”

Irey couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yes,” he said, removing the cigarette from his mouth. “It means ‘someone worth protecting.’”

Shelley was awakened by a loud snore.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a wobbling kerosene lamp hanging from the center of the carriage ceiling, casting a dim light over the entire compartment.

There were far fewer passengers than when they first set off, but the aisle was still crowded with people who didn’t have seats. Some were sitting on the floor, leaning against something, or even lying on the luggage racks. Some were sleeping, others just resting, but most were quiet.

Shelley looked ahead and realized that the loud snoring came from the seemingly refined Beta man with glasses sitting across from them.

“Awake?” A familiar voice sounded in his ear, and Shelley realized his head had been resting on Irey’s shoulder the whole time.

“Want some water?” Irey offered a small water bottle, now full. Shelley took it and found it was still warm.

His head ached, and his body felt sore, but he had slept surprisingly well, making his mind much clearer than before.

Irey, with his legs crossed, leaned against the seat, a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other. Seeing Shelley wake up, he stubbed out the cigarette on the table, adding another mark to the numerous yellowish stains.

As Shelley drank water, he glanced at Irey’s phone screen out of the corner of his eye.

He was playing Tetris, with the highest line barely reaching halfway up the game frame, yet the score was absurdly high. Even Shelley’s best score hadn’t reached this level.

“What time is it?” Shelley put down the water bottle.

Irey glanced at the top right corner of his phone. “Twelve-thirty. You’ve only slept for a bit over two hours. Go back to sleep.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Shelley asked.

“I did, but I woke up again,” Irey nodded towards the front, “thanks to our thunderous friend here.”

Shelley chuckled lightly.

He looked out the window. A bright blue moon hung in the middle of the night sky, with dark, blurry scenery constantly receding. There were layers of undulating mountains in the distance, but no light.

Without cities or technological activity, the night was naturally pitch black.

The memories of beautiful city nightscapes were now gradually fading with time, like a grand and splendid collective dream of all humanity, easily shattered.

So many people couldn’t accept that the current darkness was what night truly looked like, still clinging stubbornly to old dreams of the past.

He was one of them.

“Boss,” Irey adjusted his position, still staring at the Tetris screen, “what are you planning to do once we get to Duhaat?”