Omega Manual chapter 4

To Mr. Irey Halton

Irey couldn’t remember if he got it in the end. The events that followed were like drinking too much, leaving only vague memories in his mind.

Such as Shelley’s moist blue eyes, swollen lips from kisses, and uncontrollable moans…

Irey didn’t know how many rounds they went through that night, nor did he remember when he fell asleep. When he opened his eyes again, it was already noon the next day.

The sun hung high outside the window, its glaring rays mercilessly falling on his eyelids, causing him to instinctively furrow his brows and reach out to shield them.

The sheets were a mess, and the blanket only covered half of his body. There was only him lying naked in the room, the other half of the bed empty.

He didn’t know when Shelley had left.

An unknown bird perched on the window sill, chirping loudly, annoying him. He got out of bed, pulled off the wrinkled sheets, and waved them at the window, startling the bird, which flew away flapping its wings.

The sunlight gave a bit of life to this dilapidated city. Numerous illegal buildings were densely packed together, front houses next to backyard, and almost everyone had only this one hour at noon to bask in the sun. So, every corner was filled with clothes and blankets, not even the corners of the yard were spared.

Just as Irey was about to open the window for some fresh air, a thick cotton quilt came pouring down from the second floor, blocking his window and the sunlight tightly.

“Damn it,” he cursed, grabbing his pants from last night off the floor and putting them on, bare-chested, as he walked out.

The air was still cold, but the wind had stopped blowing after a night. The sunlight actually warmed his skin a little, dispelling some of the chill.

Old man Angus sat in a rocking chair in the yard, dozing off, while the Monroes stood on the other side, arguing loudly, their faces red and necks thick.

“How many times have I told you! Don’t turn off the outside faucet, don’t turn it off! Look at how it’s frozen now? How are we supposed to wash our faces?”

“It wasn’t that cold last night!” Mr. Monroe’s face flushed red as he vehemently argued with his wife, “How was I supposed to know it would freeze overnight… I just wanted to save some water, you know?”

“The water comes from the pipes, you don’t have to pay for it!” Mrs. Monroe was furious, “Pretentious, doing it for whom? Now I have to burn my coal to heat it up!…”

Irey lifted the blanket blocking his way, grabbed the broom leaning against the wall, and knocked on the second-floor window above him.

Before long, a thin, wrinkled man opened the window, “Are you crazy? What are you knocking for?”

Irey pointed with the broom at the quilt hanging down, blocking his window, then pointed at him, “Blind? Can’t you see?”

The thin man stiffened his neck, “I’m airing my quilt downstairs…”

Impatiently, Irey knocked forcefully on the man’s window with the broom, causing the entire window frame to shake, “Do you want me to widen your window so that your entire wall can bask in the sun?”

The thin man immediately retreated his neck, reluctantly pulled the cord, and pulled up the hanging quilt.

“Good morning, Mr. Halton.”

A gentle and amiable female voice came from behind, and Irey turned around to see Mrs. Jones wearing a headscarf, smiling gently at him.

Actually, he wasn’t sure whether to address her as “Mrs.” or “Miss”. She seemed married, but she lived alone and never saw anyone else with her. It could also be that someone important disappeared in the disaster five years ago, which was also quite common.

In the dark and despicable Lower District, Mrs. Jones was one of the few who still maintained kindness.

She seemed very pleased, with her eyebrows and eyes raised upwards, “Good fortunes are hard to come by, but they must be cherished. May the Lord bless you.”

Irey was taken aback before realizing what Mrs. Jones was saying.

He was the only Alpha in this area where he lived. Generally, Betas couldn’t smell pheromones, but it couldn’t be ruled out that some people had naturally sharp senses of smell, and Mrs. Jones was probably one of them.

“I don’t… he isn’t…” Irey sighed, giving up on explaining, “We won’t meet again.”

Irey was a man who knew how to use the gaps in the rules to seek benefits for himself.

Stealing like this, lying like this, and the same with that Omega named Shelley.

However, in this most adverse district, everyone was hustling for their own benefit, and the reason why he could thrive here was because he knew very well where the boundaries of interest lay.

In simple terms, it was self-awareness.

He was very clear about what he could touch, what he couldn’t touch, and when he was greedy, he knew to stop immediately.

Like that Omega named Shelley. Although he still didn’t know where the other party was from or why he came to Lansai, his clothing and accent had already revealed everything.

Shelley was someone who didn’t belong to the same world as him.

A one-night stand marked by temporary indulgence was already lucky, going further was wishful thinking, and Irey didn’t want to get himself involved in any trouble from the upper class.

So, the beautiful Omega with golden hair and blue eyes, those eyes that looked at him moistly, the strands of hair that brushed against his neck, and the tempting low moans remained in his mind, forever becoming beautiful memories.

So, a week later, when he received that properly sealed letter with wax, he almost thought he hadn’t woken up yet.

“Irey Halton.”

Amidst the noisy noise of the steel factory, the supervisor called out slowly, at least two-thirds of the syllables of the name drowned out by the banging sound.

Seeing no response, the supervisor called again, this time with a slightly raised volume, “Irey… Halton, are you there?”

“What’s up?”

Irey dropped the tool in his hand, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and walked towards the supervisor, “That’s me.”

“You’ve got a letter.” The supervisor casually glanced at the return address, “From Nantes, no sender’s name.”

Irey took the letter from the supervisor’s hand. The envelope was made of a high-quality paper with a nice texture, his name was embossed in gold cursive letters on it, and there was a very retro wax seal.

Unfortunately, he had just finished handling parts on the lathe, and a black stain quickly appeared on the exquisite envelope.

He walked back to the workshop with the envelope, attracting many curious glances along the way.

“Do you still know people from Nantes?” someone asked in surprise.

Nantes belonged to the upper district. Not only that, it was also the wealthiest city in the upper district. The Supreme Court, the interim government, gender control agencies… all kinds of pivotal fortresses of the present world were concentrated in this small city-state.

For the people of Lansai, that name was like a legend, where the walls were made of gold, the pipes flowed with milk and coffee, the upper-class people rinsed their mouths with honey every day, bathed with rose water, bought things without looking at the price, and could live without worries…

It was the palace, it was heaven, it was a place they could only dream of all their lives.

“Don’t know,” Irey said as he tore open the envelope.

“Nonsense! If you don’t know them, how can you receive a letter? And it looks so good…”

Irey took the letter out of the envelope. The paper emitted a faint fragrance, somewhat like perfume, and somewhat like the scent of flowers.

He unfolded the letter and read its contents quickly, then raised an eyebrow.

Seven or eight people gathered around, trying to sneak a peek at the contents of the letter. Irey immediately closed the letter and looked up.

“What’s written inside? Who sent it to you?”

“Advertisement,” Irey said without blinking an eye, lying.

The next day was a clear day, with almost no thick clouds obscuring the sun, a rare occurrence for entering the deep winter of Lansai.

In a time of scarce resources, with most energy-consuming products shut down, trains had become an important tool for crossing the boundaries of various districts.

Every morning at six o’clock, long queues formed in front of the station gate, each person holding a small piece of paper, waiting until the sound of the whistle inside the station, then the inspector would come out of the narrow security room, pull up the heavy iron gate, letting out a piercing friction sound before slowly opening it.

Everyone pressed their chests against their backs, silently and slowly passing through the iron gate, inspected one by one by the inspector at the entrance, their tickets checked and their glands inspected.

When the queue reached about a third of the way, the inspector grabbed the collar of a seven or eight-year-old boy and pulled him out of the line.

“Come out! Omega without a mark can’t leave the city!” the inspector said sharply.

A woman holding bags hurriedly followed out of the line, grabbing the inspector’s arm and pleading, “I’m his mother, he’s sick, his hormones are abnormal which is why he differentiated early. Please, let us pass, my family is waiting for us over there…”

“I make exceptions for you, then who makes exceptions for me?” the inspector’s face hardened. “Rules are rules, either don’t leave the city, or find an Alpha for him, there’s no other choice.”

The mother widened her eyes, her voice trembling, “He’s only seven and a half years old! You want him—”

“Then don’t leave the city,” the inspector said impatiently, pushing the timid little boy back, “Don’t block the entrance and delay others!”

The mother quickly reached out to grab the boy’s hand, her lips pursed, hesitated, and finally pulled him away from the train station.

The long queue was like an extended line segment, with two black dots, one large and one small, detaching from the line and going against the flow of people, gradually disappearing into the distance.

The queue continued to move slowly forward, and soon it was Irey’s turn. The inspector first checked his glands, then took his ticket and glanced at him.

“You’re going to Nantes?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going there for?”

“Looking for work,” Irey said.

The inspector made a disdainful noise from his nose, his tone skeptical, “Do you know how many people want to work in Nantes now? Every inch of ground there has been stepped on by shoe soles, and only a few can stay.”

“I have to try,” Irey said.

The inspector had an expression of “I’ve advised you”, waved his hand to let Irey through. Irey collected his ticket stub, walked onto the old rusty train, and found his seat along the corridor.