Accidentally Provoked My Archenemy [ABO] - Chapter 4

“Hello, Sister Sang?”

When she slid open the comms panel, a familiar voice greeted her, causing Sang Yu’s tightly furrowed brows to relax slightly.

It was one of her lackeys—Gu Amo.

“Talk.”

“Brother Tan’s advanced school assignment list was just released. It’s North Shore Academy on Central Star. I also found out where his dorm is—North Shore Riverlands. Word is he’ll be moving there in a few days.”

“…Mm.”

Sang Yu paused for a moment in a daze before recalling that today was the release day for the Omega college placements.

After graduating from intermediate schools, all Alphas and Omegas had to choose separate paths. The biggest change from the past was that they now studied at entirely different institutions.

The curriculum, naturally, also diverged.

Omegas went to Omega-exclusive colleges to focus on refinement and discipline; Alphas trained rigorously in Alpha-designated institutions.

Alpha placements had been released a few days ago, but Omegas like Kong Tan hadn’t gotten theirs yet—hence, Sang Yu had asked Gu Amo to keep an eye out and inform her the moment anything dropped.

But now… it hardly seemed to matter anymore.

“Sister Sang, I heard Brother Tan doesn’t have any plans today. Do you want to ask him out? Maybe at Guanghong Garden?”

“…No.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Sang Yu didn’t answer. She knew Gu Amo had heard her clearly—probably even sent the message to Kong Tan already, booked the venue, and was just waiting for her to show up.

But she wasn’t that Sang Yu anymore.

Now, she valued her life.

She didn’t hang up, nor did she speak. The air between them fell into silence as she sank into her own thoughts.

She had no intention of chasing Kong Tan anymore.

After all, in the novel’s plot, she never got his heart in the end.

Still, Gu Amo’s message did jog something in her memory—specifically, about Cheng Yunan.

A few seconds later, Gu Amo’s voice returned, the earlier surprise now settled: “Alright then, Sister Sang, I’ll hang up now.”

“Wait,” Sang Yu interrupted lazily. “Where did Cheng Yunan get assigned?”

Advanced schools existed not only on Central Star but also on many numbered planets. However, none could match Central Star in quality and resources.

People like them—born and raised in the upper echelons—wouldn’t bother with distant systems. They all applied to the Central Star academies.

Her own assignment was to the Imperial Military Academy.

Would Cheng Yunan be going there too?

Then she remembered all the bullying she’d inflicted on him—how his wounds always looked horrific, and how weak his B-rank designation was. She scoffed inwardly. What a ridiculous question.

It was impossible.

Students accepted into the Imperial Military Academy were almost always native to Central Star and had both high rank and status. Without both, they’d be rejected outright.

Cheng Yunan had neither ability nor background.

She silently berated herself.

Just because she’d remembered she was in a novel—and would eventually be killed by him—she’d started elevating him in her mind.

What a joke.

“Forget it. No need to look it up…” After all, there was no way he would be at the same school as her. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted to attend anymore—not when her life was at stake.

But Gu Amo was faster than her. A few seconds later, he forwarded the Alpha placement list from a few days ago.

“Sister Sang, something’s come up—Ah Bai seems to be hurt. I don’t have time to check for you. I sent over the public list from Star Net. See if you can find it yourself…”

There was a loud burst of noise from Gu Amo’s side, and then the call ended abruptly.

Gu Amo was also an Alpha, and naturally annoyed by love rivals. Under Sang Yu’s orders, he’d done plenty of sneaky things to undermine Kong Tan’s admirers.

Unlike Sang Yu, though, he had his own Omega—Ah Bai. They were already engaged and very much in love.

Staring at the darkened comms screen, Sang Yu felt oddly unsettled.

On their comms thread, a notification quietly sat.

Even though she was sure Cheng Yunan wouldn’t be in the same school as her, something still compelled her to open the file.

The list was long. Each planet had one or two representatives. She scrolled and scrolled—no sign of Cheng Yunan.

Just as she sighed and prepared to close the window, a name leapt out at her:

[Central Star, Cheng Yunan, B-rank, Class 85]

Sang Yu’s finger hovered over those three eye-catching characters, and suddenly, she began to believe in the plot.

—Maybe she really was doomed to be killed by him.

Cheng Yunan was the Cheng family’s youngest child, but with his low rank, they had completely abandoned him. How did he make it into the Imperial Military Academy?

She tapped his name absentmindedly, her suspicions only deepening.

She needed to run.

Sang Yu lowered her hand to exit the interface—only to accidentally open an image.

Sword-shaped eyebrows, starlit eyes, a harmless, serene face. His lips were gently pressed together, forming a faint, nervous smile.

It was Cheng Yunan.

Sang Yu had the urge to complain again. No matter how many times she looked, Cheng Yunan still looked like a textbook Omega—not even a hint of Alpha dominance.

She shut the terminal and let out a sigh. All sleepiness had vanished.

She started thinking again—where would Cheng Yunan go?

Would he be at the same school as Kong Tan? What would happen if they met? Would he still chase Kong Tan like before?

Her tongue pressed lightly against the roof of her mouth. She suddenly felt like laughing.

She wasn’t being petty. It was just… who would’ve thought? Her arch-nemesis had turned into an Omega. From Alpha to Omega.

Unintentionally taking out a rival felt oddly satisfying.

Even though she had no intention of pursuing Kong Tan anymore.

She’d never truly liked him anyway. It was all pride and face—nothing more.

Whatever.

Sang Yu already had a fringe star in mind to flee to. She debated whether to settle down permanently or keep moving.

She was lazy by nature—didn’t like being on the run. If she had to escape, she still wanted a safe, comfortable environment.

If she settled down, she’d need to buy property—easier to be found. But if she kept hopping planets, it would be annoying.

Just as she was wrestling with the logistics, her mind once again wandered—to Cheng Yunan.

But this time, it was serious.

How had he gotten into her house?

She’d considered it before but couldn’t make sense of it. Her home had excellent security. For a newly-adult Cheng Yunan to sneak in undetected? That was absurd.

And he had every reason to avoid her. She’d bullied him too many times.

Unless… he was that desperate to take her out silently?

The thought sent a chill down her spine.

She remembered her unexplained secondary differentiation—and the bite Cheng Yunan gave her in the garden.

Usually, secondary differentiation came with a warning. And there were no known commercial drugs that could induce it.

It couldn’t have been drug-related.

Even Cheng Yunan’s future secondary differentiation in the novel had happened naturally.

According to the limited available data, secondary differentiation leaves the person weak, overwhelmed by pain and desire, totally defenseless—basically useless.

Without someone to watch over them, they’d die.

Sang Yu now suspected her secondary differentiation had been triggered by Cheng Yunan. His genetics clearly had something that induced the transformation. That bite had been hard—and frighteningly close to her gland.

Did he know what he was doing?

If he did—and he’d done it deliberately, just to finish her off…

Sang Yu: …She might’ve just uncovered the truth.

Refusing to let her thoughts spiral, Sang Yu forced herself to shove everything from her mind.

She checked her location—ten more minutes to the teleport base. She began sorting her belongings.

Meanwhile, in a distant floating residence, someone else remained trapped in a storm of grief and anguish, unable to pull themselves free.

________________________________________

“Ma’am, you’ll need to put on a bite guard first.”

At the teleport base, Sang Yu stood at the service counter, explaining repeatedly that she still had more than half a month before her next susceptibility phase. She was in control—she wouldn’t harm anyone.

The problem was, she hadn’t brought the device. She’d completely forgotten it, and it was a personalized item—you couldn’t buy it here.

The only way was to go home and fetch it.

Naturally, Sang Yu had no intention of going back. She’d booked a direct flight on LightHover 1584—the fastest and most convenient route, leaving in twenty minutes.

But the staff were diligent. No matter how much she tried to talk them down, they wouldn’t budge.

In the end, Sang Yu sighed and reluctantly rescheduled.

As she walked toward the waiting area, she opened her smart terminal again. She intended to contact Gu Amo to fetch the device for her—but as she passed a nearby worker on a call, she instinctively slowed her steps.

“…Is it true, General? Don’t worry, we’ll thoroughly screen the passengers. We won’t let a 3S-class talent slip through…”

Sang Yu: …3S?

It took her a few seconds to process it. Then the base’s sirens suddenly blared, the deep alarm booming across the facility.

A clear broadcast rang out, calling for a certain unnamed Enigma to come forward.

Sang Yu finally remembered what she’d forgotten.

She never bought a concealment device for her Alpha-turned-Enigma self—something essential to avoid being recognized and detained.

After all, while others couldn’t identify her Enigma status, the scanners could. They could track her movements and automatically report them to the authorities.

Sigh.

She sighed again, lowered her hand from the terminal, forced a smile at the approaching staff, and left the teleport base to head back home.