Omega Manual chapter 59

The Rope

In the end, Shelley didn’t call the people from Manta Corporation.

Firstly, he might not be able to borrow a helicopter. He had never been good at lying, and fabricating a clumsy lie might quickly be detected by them, leading to him being forcibly returned to Nantes.

Secondly, he didn’t want to involve innocent people in this one-way journey.

No one knew what dangers lay in the high-radiation zone. Perhaps he wouldn’t make it to Mount Yinbu, or maybe he would die as soon as he entered the radiation zone. He didn’t care about the outcome, but if someone else got implicated, he would surely die with regrets.

So, he decided to walk.

Kachigist Village was over a hundred kilometers away from Fuba Port in a straight line, and it was almost a fantasy to walk there.

But Shelley had nothing left to lose; he just needed a destination, the final destination of his life, to give him the strength to move forward, like the last string pulling a puppet.

Before the online cut-off, he could go without hesitation.

Soon, he saw the blocked road.

There was only a railing, painted red with the words: Danger ahead, do not pass.

Sand and gravel flew up with the wind, wild grasses pierced through the road surface, densely covering the area. Looking ahead, there were no signs of life as far as the eye could see.

Strange-shaped meteorite fragments were scattered everywhere, arrogantly occupying the land of the alien world, making it seem like they were the true masters of this desolate place.

Shelley grabbed the handle of the suitcase and easily crossed the precarious railing, walking north along the road covered with sand and gravel.

The sun was obscured by thick dust, revealing a faint light in the gray sky. The disused railway quietly meandered through the silent wilderness, rust invading its surface. Perhaps soon, like other radiation zones, this place would completely lose any traces of human activity.

After an hour, or maybe two, a strong wind blew through the canyon, breaking the elastic band Shelley used to tie his hair.

His golden long hair waved in the wind like waves, occasionally blocking his sight.

He didn’t have the energy to bother about it, letting the strands slap against his face, the painful sensation pulling his numb nerves back from the edge, giving him a sense of being alive.

He realized his hair had grown this long unconsciously.

Like a doll, like merchandise, like a qualified Omega.

He was the first Omega to differentiate in the entire city of Nantes.

After the meteor shower, he was the only one left alive at the press conference.

Whether it was a coincidence or the fate from above, a piece of steel was stuck above his head, giving him space to breathe.

He was severely injured and remained unconscious for over three months in the hospital. When he woke up, he found people looked at him differently.

There was curiosity, disdain, fear, but mostly an indescribable, almost bewitched fascination.

On the third night after he woke up, a male patient from the next room broke into his ward, climbed onto his bed as if possessed, and, in his powerless state, had sex with him.

That was when he discovered he couldn’t muster even a third of his strength from before the disaster and couldn’t push away the madman.

The next day, he angrily sought out a lawyer to bring the rapist from last night to court, but the lawyer’s eyes were hesitant.

“I think we might not blame the gentleman entirely, considering the smell on you right now…,” the lawyer said, “Forgive my bluntness, but it’s not much different from a f***ing whore. What exactly happened will have to wait for expert analysis.”

At first, he thought it was all because of the injury, and once it healed, everything would return to normal.

But reality proved otherwise, as with time, the changes in his body became more and more apparent.

Apart from the sweet scent he couldn’t control, the gland on the back of his neck, which didn’t fit in with the surrounding skin, became more prominent.

Even after his injuries healed, he couldn’t regain even half of his strength. When some tall men and women with an aggressive scent approached him, he froze like a startled rabbit, completely unable to resist.

Two months after he was discharged, he unexpectedly entered his first heat.

It was a very blurry memory.

It was probably night, yet it seemed like daytime. The dark alley was dirty and chaotic, seeming to be four men, or maybe five. He couldn’t remember what their faces looked like, what they said, or what they did.

Shelley couldn’t remember anymore.

But what was miraculous was, he always remembered that in the crevice of the nearby brick wall, there was a butterfly with red wings resting.

The butterfly seemed to be of a rare species not commonly found in Nantes, with large and vibrant wings. Its fiery red color resembled the glow of the setting sun, and the dazzling phosphorus reflected the light, presenting beautiful colors as it fluttered its wings.

Upon closer inspection, there was a dead insect in the crevice of the brick wall, and the butterfly was perched on the insect’s corpse, quietly sucking away.

He wondered how many such corpses it would take to nurture such a beautiful butterfly.

As one of the men swung him against the wall like a little chicken, grabbing his hair near the back of his neck, Shelley instinctively struggled, covering that vulnerable gland with his hand.

This action elicited a round of mockery, and the man was about to rudely pry open his wrist when he raised his voice hoarsely, “I can give you money.” 

The men chuckled.

“Do you know how much an Omega like you can fetch now?” The man yanked his hair, “Can you afford that?”

“Eighty to one hundred million.” Shelley said hoarsely, “I can offer twice that amount, each of you, individually.”

The Alphas looked at each other, and the Alpha who was pulling his hair couldn’t help but loosen his grip.

Human desire always succumbs to another kind of desire.

Desire begets desire, spawning transactions, which nourish desire, constantly expanding, rising, and growing.

The second year after his discharge, the provisional government issued a series of regulations regarding the new gender, with a separate booklet printed specifically for Omegas, distributed to every household to ensure that every Omega was familiar with the new rules.

All of Shelley’s properties, cars, yachts, etc., lost their legal validity after the new regulations were enacted.

The general manager of Manta Corporation quickly found him and proposed to transfer all his immovable properties to his name.

“It’s just a formality.” The smiling manager, now differentiated into an Alpha, said, “The right to use still belongs to you, this way of handling things is always more secure, isn’t it?” 

Shelley agreed.

The manager personally handled everything, not only transferring ownership of all immovable properties within a day but also thoughtfully hiring security guards, cleaners, housemaids, etc., for him, and even paying for the renovation of his villa, claiming it was to ensure the former CEO of the company lived more securely and comfortably.

Since then, every time he went into heat, unfamiliar Alphas would visit him.

Precisely on time, without fail.

He gradually became numb, like a wound-up machine, being tossed around by the visitors. Some liked to tie him up, some liked to inflict wounds, some insisted on making him scream, but none of them would approach his gland, never leaving any marks.

Most likely because it would be a breach of contract.

Shelley used to be a businessman himself, he could understand.

A product marked once would become a discounted second-hand item, but if it was well maintained, then every lease would be brand new.

After the new regulations were issued, Shelley never stepped out of the villa gate again.

In the first year, his hair just reached his ears.

When the sun was good, he would have the maid make a cup of coffee, sit in the yard and read for a while, until the sun set and the sky darkened, only then would he close the book and go back inside to eat something.

In the second year, his hair reached his neck.

After finishing the book, sometimes he would take a long bath. With the window open, letting the hot water hit the tiles, the mist slowly filled the spacious bathroom, and the whole world turned into a blurry white. He soaked in the water, washing his skin that never seemed clean enough, until the sun rose and set, the moon cast a blue light, and the stars twinkled faintly, only then did he sluggishly drain the water and push open the door barefoot.

The nights without guests were cold and lonely. He would enter the bathroom looking one way and leave it looking the same, even the apple core casually thrown on the table would maintain its precarious position.

In the third year, his hair reached his shoulders.

Occasionally, he would think of the products he had developed and the empty projections that never made it to market.

His phone miraculously survived the disaster, allowing him to transplant the new technology into the new phone given to him by the manager.

For a while, he devoted himself day and night to optimizing the projection technology, pouring all his energy into it, but due to the lack of tools and data, there was never quite the ideal result.

One day, the sound of a newspaper seller outside his villa woke him up like a person who had been sleeping in a dream for a long time.

There was no signal in the world anymore.

No communication network, no phones, no internet, and no need for projection anymore.

All the technological achievements he had developed had long lost their significance, no matter how he researched, there would never be anyone who needed his technology again.

He threw the phone into the drawer beside the desk and locked it.

In the fourth year, his hair passed his shoulders.

He finished reading all the books in the study that he hadn’t had time to read due to work.

He began to spend whole days sitting in the yard of the villa, or simply not getting out of bed, sleeping all day under the covers.

And sometimes, he would stay awake all night, plagued by nightmares that never repeated, waking up with a continuous throbbing in his heart, forcing him to lean against the headboard, sweating profusely.

At times like these, he longed for his mother very much.

In the fifth year, the tips of his hair swept down to his back.

His life began to become increasingly simple, straightforward, and crude.

As long as there were no visitors, he would lie in bed until hunger woke him up, then mechanically eat and excrete. Sometimes he would take a bath and then continue sleeping in the bathtub until the housemaid woke him up, then he would continue eating, walk back to the bedroom, and sleep.

The days with visitors were slightly different; the instinct of heat caused the brain to produce more dopamine, giving him the illusion of temporarily coming alive.

One night, a lean Alpha with a goatee visited the villa.

He liked to use sharp objects to scratch his bed partner, and when he saw the dark red blood flowing from the wound, he was like a monkey just released from the zoo, jumping and squealing, the short and thin thing almost broken by himself.

The mottled dots of red were very much like the butterfly in the crevice of the brick.

Suddenly, Shelley felt very bored.

Not just the Alpha on his body, but everything.

The window, the desk, the rocking bed, the pendant lamp on the ceiling, the beautiful varnish, all seemed boring.

Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed the small knife in the Alpha’s hand, fiercely pulling it towards his chest.

He almost succeeded, only ignoring the huge power gap between Alpha and Omega. At the critical moment, the blade skewed to the side.

The thin Alpha was frightened out of a cold sweat, even his voice was trembling.

“What are you doing! Do you want to die!”

It was only at that moment that Shelley suddenly realized.

He did want to die.

Very, very, intensely craving for death to come.