Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 51

Chapter 51

It took several days for Jiang Chuxie’s body to finally recover. During this time, Zhuang Qi had been running to the police station, updating her on the investigation’s progress. As for Jiang Chuxie, despite her physical condition, she doggedly used her computer to make efforts in her area of expertise.

Regarding the person behind Yu Wen, Jiang Chuxie first thought of Liang Que, the president of the Humanities College student council. But she quickly dismissed the idea. Besides feeling Liang Que’s personality wouldn’t orchestrate such a large-scale event, more importantly, he liked Yu Wen.

If Liang Que resented Yu Wen’s feelings for her, having Yu Wen seduce her, then using it to threaten or retaliate against her, seemed utterly foolish.

Ruling that out, Jiang Chuxie considered Dean Xu Wen from the Life Sciences Institute. But after careful thought, she felt Xu Wen was more likely the one behind the professional Beta.

A close comparison revealed the two groups had different goals.

The Beta used a highly potent aphrodisiac and didn’t arrange a “victim.” This suggested they didn’t aim to blackmail her, didn’t care who the victim was, or even if there was one—just that she’d make a fool of herself, or worse, be ruined.

The aphrodisiac Yu Wen used kept the body aroused despite mental disorientation, ensuring her connection to Yu Wen was solidified.

Ignoring Yu Wen’s feelings for her, using a student for this was risky. Hiring a professional would’ve been more reliable.

She didn’t think they lacked money. From their goals, the Beta didn’t need to clear Area B, so it must’ve been Yu Wen’s backers.

That wasn’t a small expense, comparable to hiring a professional.

This led to a conclusion: Yu Wen was “trusted” by them—or they had leverage over him, so they felt safe using him to seduce her, controlling her through him.

Related to students, wanting to use her, with organizational capability—this pointed Jiang Chuxie to a rights organization she’d recently encountered.

She hadn’t forgotten Yuan Ning mentioning Yu Wen that day. Though Yuan Ning explained it as the organization’s wide network, another possibility emerged: Yu Wen was part of the rights group.

Jiang Chuxie further speculated that Yu Wen wasn’t just a member but had friction with them.

This was based on two points. First, Yu Wen’s apology. Though his crocodile tears didn’t move her, it suggested his involvement wasn’t entirely voluntary.

Second, Yu Wen’s frequent crises during that period. Even if driven by the story’s force, there had to be a specific trigger. If it was the rights group, it made sense.

The first time she met Yu Wen, he was in heat, but no one was around. She thought it was sudden, as he claimed, and didn’t think much of it.

But Omega heats weren’t that unpredictable; they usually had signs. Unless triggered by strong external stimuli, like drugs or intense Alpha contact, sudden heats were rare.

In all her years, Jiang Chuxie had only seen one case: Dean Zhuang. And that was largely due to excessive drug use, destabilizing her cycle.

So, it was likely the rights group teaching Yu Wen a lesson, and he didn’t dare speak up, claiming it was just his heat.

The second time she saved Yu Wen, something was off. She thought he was being assaulted, but after escaping, his clothes were oddly neat.

Rather than buttons or hems, his pockets were more disheveled.

Focused on avoiding him after saving him again, she didn’t dwell on it, assuming the attackers wanted money, not assault.

But Yu Wen’s indifference to the police and the case’s progress was telling.

The third time, since Liang Que sent the letter and Chen Yue vouched for the opposition group’s accountability, Jiang Chuxie had thought it was personal.

But after this incident, she no longer trusted the group. She couldn’t rule out the guard being a member, exploiting the situation to intimidate Yu Wen.

These were just her speculations, but fortunately, she had ways to verify them.

She might not have the group’s numbers or Dean Xu’s influence, but she had an edge they lacked.

She was a computer expert and the owner and maintainer of the Xueyou Network.

Didn’t the rights group want her for using Xueyou as a recruitment platform? That meant they’d left plenty of traces online.

The internet was a new industry, with incomplete laws and lax privacy awareness. Since Xueyou started as a campus social site, most users used real information, making investigations easy for her.

She’d already found communities likely tied to the group. Now, tracing leads from Humanities College student council members, she quickly made discoveries.

The organization wasn’t new—it had just grown rapidly in the past two years, riding the internet’s wave.

Original members used Xueyou to find dissatisfied individuals with shared views, bonding over empathy before luring them in.

Jiang Chuxie built Xueyou as a freshman, and it now included users who were students then but working now.

She found a member working at the ski slope, a graduate from a City B technical college in mechanical engineering, now maintaining the slope’s cable cars.

After the incident, Jiang Chuxie wondered if the cable car failure was an accident. It caused Area B’s vacancies, leaving her without help.

This clue confirmed it. The world might have coincidences, but not all were.

Jiang Chuxie went to such lengths to find these clues, avoiding Yu Wen, because even if she proved he framed her, she couldn’t legally seek justice or punish him.

The police were still pursuing the Beta due to his fake registration and professional methods, likely tied to other cases.

But students like Yu Wen were released, supposedly on call, but the police barely cared. Without Gu Lian, Zhuang Qi’s pressure, and Zhang Luping’s help, the case might’ve closed.

Why?

There were no specific criminal penalties for using aphrodisiacs on Alphas.

Normally, no one used them on Alphas—Omega pheromones were usually enough. And if used, few Alphas reported it.

As Alphas dominated society, legally and morally, they weren’t seen as victims of sexual crimes.

If they got involved with an Omega, many thought they benefited, even the Alphas themselves. If assaulted by another Alpha, it was too shameful to report.

Yu Wen insisted he sought help due to his heat. The fingerprints on the aphrodisiac? He claimed the Beta left them after attacking Jiang Chuxie, and he touched it unknowingly.

An Omega leaving their room during heat to seek help was absurd, but an Omega framing an Alpha to assault them was even more so, so the police bought it.

For a case they couldn’t prosecute, was uncovering the truth necessary?

If Jiang Chuxie had assaulted someone who pursued accountability, Yu Wen might face liability. But Gu Lingjun wouldn’t sue, and Jiang Chuxie couldn’t sue Yu Wen without solid proof.

So, with Yu Wen, she had to seek justice herself, targeting the ski slope cable car failure.

It could fall under public endangerment or property damage, with wide impact.

The state wouldn’t tolerate organized crime by a influential group. If they’d stoop to anything, she didn’t believe the police would stay indifferent.

Before, Jiang Chuxie didn’t want to hinder this group’s growth. Unsure if their ideals aligned, she hoped for new trends.

But their actions crossed her line. She no longer cared if her moves affected Omega and Beta rights.

There’s a saying about breaking windows to open doors, but this wasn’t the way. These people—or some of them—were just criminals hiding behind a rights banner.

Jiang Chuxie organized her evidence: proof of the group’s existence, its strong influence and execution, and tight internal connections, linking the ski slope worker to Humanities College council members. Other evidence she’d submit strategically.

Whether the worker caused the cable car failure required more police investigation. At its biggest, it threatened societal stability. If she set the tone, the police couldn’t ignore it.

Such groups feared police scrutiny. Even if this was flawless, could they ensure no other mistakes?

As for setting the tone, she’d leave that to Zhuang Qi.

“Miss Zhuang, sitting here makes things hard for us. You’ve got no proof—we can’t just arrest people, can we?”

Zhuang Qi had been at the station for days for Jiang Chuxie’s case, knowing the situation inside out.

“No proof? Do eyewitnesses need to hand you evidence before you arrest someone? Isn’t finding evidence your job?”

Zhuang Qi sat in the captain’s office with an arrogant air, arms crossed, nothing like her usual cheerful, approachable school self.

“But you’re talking about something from a week ago. The resort announced the cable car failure was an accident, and they covered all losses. Now you claim it was sabotage and demand an investigation—isn’t that unreasonable?”

“Unreasonable? How? I was on that cable car! Ever think about my feelings? Or the fear of all those tourists facing death?” Zhuang Qi, impassioned, slammed the desk. “You think this isn’t serious? Will it take our deaths for you to care?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“That’s exactly what you mean! You guys love taking the easy way out, huh? Yu Wen’s heat was an accident, the cable car failure was an accident—are you saying the guy still in custody stabbing a needle in my friend’s neck was an accident too?” Zhuang Qi’s wheat-colored skin flushed with anger. “You useless cops, always muddling through. We had to find evidence ourselves. Now it’s in front of you, and you won’t even check, still calling it an accident? A week ago? If you weren’t so incompetent, would it be this late? Will it take someone dying in the next cable car failure for you to take it seriously?”

“We didn’t say we won’t investigate, but what you’re saying is… how do I put it, fantastical? We need to discuss it.”

“You think it’s fantastical because you don’t know my friend’s brilliance! This group would do anything to get Chuxie. You think this was the first time? She’s been through this before, just dodged it. If you don’t act, the consequences will be severe!”

Zhuang Qi’s bluster made the captain want to laugh. To her, this case and the earlier Alpha assault were comical.

An Alpha dosed with an aphrodisiac, now seeking legal justice—once in a century.

Now, claiming someone set this up to use her? Did she think she was some big shot?

“Miss Zhuang, I know you’re the KuaiXun Group’s heiress, but your friend’s just an ordinary college student…”

Zhuang Qi exploded. “Chuxie’s no ordinary student—she’s a genius! Heard of Xueyou Network? XunLian? XunSou? She developed them! Let me be clear: she’s my aunt Zhuang Jingyuan’s assistant. Know her? Dean of B University’s IT Institute. How many government systems she made went through Chuxie’s hands? You still think no one’s targeting her?”

The captain… actually didn’t know!

Her face turned serious, dropping her joking attitude, saying solemnly, “Miss Zhuang, I need to report this upstairs. Please wait a moment.”

“Make your call. I’ll wait.”

The captain thought, then dialed the bureau chief.

“Chuxie, good news!” Zhuang Qi, after a busy day, rushed back to the dorm before curfew. “The police detained several people, including Yu Wen, and found their call records. One between the vice president and the ski slope worker was minutes before the failure. That worker wasn’t scheduled but swapped shifts, claiming personal reasons. He’s a major suspect now! The police will send experts to the slope tomorrow to check if it was sabotage.”

Though they’d been in touch by phone, hearing this in person let Jiang Chuxie breathe easier.

With enough suspicion, her coached arguments, and evidence, it was enough to make the police take it seriously, maybe even alerting the National Security Bureau.

The rights group could either drag this out or cut losses by sacrificing those heavily involved. It was their choice.

Jiang Chuxie knew she couldn’t topple the group now. Her actions would only make them more cautious, possibly vanishing from her sight.

But when they framed her, the war’s horn had sounded. She had to take a bite out of them. This response was partly to quell her anger, partly to warn them she wouldn’t sit idle.

Now it was a race of growth. She’d guard her domain, striking back when able.

For now, the group would lie low, giving her a chance to accelerate her own progress. As for the future, she didn’t know how it’d unfold.

“Zhuang Qi, thank you.”

“Hey, why the formalities? Someone bullying you is bullying me!”

Zhuang Qi was still furious. She’d suggested the trip, encouraged Gu Lingjun to join, and pushed their pairing, only for this to happen. She wanted to tear those bastards apart.

Jiang Chuxie sighed. “This won’t wrap up soon. Let’s wait. I bet someone will show up in the next couple of days.”

“Who?”

“Could be anyone.”

The police initially dismissed the case, believing Yu Wen over an Alpha being framed by an Omega. Now, if they took it seriously, they’d re-investigate her.

The rights group might also approach her. She’d sent a system email via Xueyou to key figures.

It was an expulsion letter, a warning, and a declaration of war. She didn’t believe they’d stay silent.

After days, this good news lightened Zhuang Qi’s mood, giving her courage to ask something she’d been curious about.

“Chuxie, can I ask? You and Gu Lingjun… have you decided?”

At her words, Jiang Chuxie’s face darkened.

These days, she’d focused on tackling the group, as if only that could calm her.

Beyond Yu Wen’s betrayal and the non-consensual intimacy, she’d faced others’ complete lack of empathy and mockery.

No one understood why an Alpha would dwell on this, pursue Yu Wen’s accountability, or hesitate to take responsibility for Gu Lingjun.

If she was just angry before, now she felt sorrow.

The root cause was the inequality between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. Alphas, as beneficiaries, were seen as dominant, never victims. Even if they suffered, they shouldn’t complain—it was shameful.

Not just Gu Lingjun’s parents, even Zhuang Qi and Zhao Zi assumed she should be responsible, believing she hadn’t lost anything—Gu Lingjun had.

In these moments, Jiang Chuxie felt profound loneliness. No one seemed to consider she hadn’t wanted to be intimate with Gu Lingjun either.

Their shared assumption—didn’t it stem from Alphas dominating AO relationships, a form of Omega discrimination?

Jiang Chuxie never thought she could fully empathize with Omegas’ struggles, but this was the first time she so deeply realized the arrogance she’d carried while helping Omegas.

Ending discrimination wasn’t just about aiding Omegas or Betas—it was liberation for Alphas too.

Everyone thought she liked Gu Lingjun, and she couldn’t deny it.

But how deep was that affection? What kind was it? Was it truly free of the story’s influence?

Before the incident, she wasn’t sure. In the short time since, she still wasn’t. How could she give a definite answer?

Recalling Gu Lingjun’s words that day, Jiang Chuxie realized she was the only one who understood her.

Only Gu Lingjun said she wasn’t at fault, didn’t need to take responsibility, and asked if chastity mattered more for Omegas than Alphas.

Though part of this world, Gu Lingjun’s thinking aligned with hers.

For such a Gu Lingjun, she couldn’t rashly give an irresponsible answer out of guilt, external pressure, or so-called duty.