I Marked My Arch-Nemesis Omega - Chapter 26

“You’re not pretending anymore, are you?” Yin Sheng clenched her fists, glaring at Sheng Yu, who was nothing short of a complete lunatic, a madwoman.

She had just taken a moment to check her neural communicator—someone had sent her a message.

She couldn’t understand why so many people at school sided with Sheng Yu. Were they blind?

“I wasn’t pretending in the first place. If there are no further questions, may I leave now?” Sheng Yu asked, then let out a light chuckle as she looked at Yin Sheng. “Oh, and I hope your disciplinary committee will actually punish her. Otherwise, I’ll report you. I have every reason to suspect you’re abusing your authority for personal gain.”

“Sheng Yu, I may not be a saint, but are you any better?” Yin Sheng shouted at her. “Your arrogance won’t last long.”

Sheng Yu didn’t even bother responding, merely raising an eyebrow.

Captain Liu’s expression was grim. Even now, he didn’t believe Yin Sheng had lied. What bothered him was how powerless he felt—a captain, outmaneuvered by a high school student, unable to pin anything on her.

Yin Sheng’s face was equally dark as she shot a pleading look at Captain Liu, but he ignored her entirely.

With another laugh, Sheng Yu turned and walked away. She had no interest in arguing further—it was just pointless rage.

Song Li also couldn’t be bothered with Yin Sheng and her group, following Sheng Yu out without anyone stopping them.

“Uncle…”

“How does she know Song Li?” Captain Liu asked coldly.

“I don’t know,” Yin Sheng muttered, fists clenched. “Uncle, I swear I didn’t lie… She must have tampered with the surveillance footage.”

“Whether she tampered with the footage or not is irrelevant. Student fights are the school’s business. I only came because you claimed she took banned substances,” Captain Liu said icily.

Yin Sheng had provided no evidence to support her accusation. He had agreed to step in only because he didn’t want his niece being bullied—it would reflect poorly on him.

He should have done a background check beforehand…

Yin Sheng’s lips trembled as a sinking feeling took hold. “Uncle… you won’t let anything happen to me, right?”

“If it were just Sheng Yu, it wouldn’t matter. But now Song Li is involved, and she’s not someone to be trifled with,” Captain Liu said, his voice chilling.

“But Song Li left the Song family ages ago…” Yin Sheng whispered.

Captain Liu cut her off. “Have you learned nothing all these years? Song Li’s reputation among Betas is enough to secure her a position in the Empire’s central institutions. The Yin family can protect you, but that doesn’t mean you can act recklessly. First, you offended Song Qing, and now Song Li. You’re really something.”

“Go talk to Sheng Yu yourself.” Captain Liu wasn’t exactly afraid of Song Li, but provoking her over a junior—especially one who wasn’t even his own—wasn’t worth it.

Yin Sheng paled, reaching out to grab his sleeve, but he vanished before she could.

——

“Angry?” Song Li asked.

“Do I look angry?” Sheng Yu pointed at her face, which indeed showed no difference from her usual expression.

Song Li stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Intuition? How did she provoke you? You usually wouldn’t go this far. Are you really going to sue her?”

“Yeah,” Sheng Yu replied, looking straight ahead. “She didn’t really provoke me. She just happened to catch me in a bad mood.”

“Why were you in a bad mood?”

Sheng Yu didn’t want to answer that. She didn’t even know why she was in a bad mood—she just couldn’t stand Yin Sheng at that moment.

Song Li pressed on, voicing a question she’d been curious about since arriving: “Are you and Song Qing close?”

“Not really. We’re just acquaintances. Why?” Sheng Yu asked.

“No reason. It’s just that Song Qing usually doesn’t like getting too close to others, but when I arrived, she was standing pretty near you,” Song Li remarked.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sheng Yu said, glancing at the time.

“True.” Sensing Sheng Yu’s resistance, Song Li dropped the subject. “Should I take you back to school?”

“Yeah.” Sheng Yu nodded. “Handle Yin Sheng’s case for me. I’ll transfer the fee to you on Friday when I get my allowance.”

“No rush,” Song Li said. “I’ll give you a friend’s discount—400,000.”

Sheng Yu: “…”

She shot Song Li a look. “You’re getting greedier by the day.”

“That’s already a steal. Everyone else pays at least a million upfront now.” Song Li flashed a perfectly polished, eight-tooth smile.

Sheng Yu scoffed. “You literally took someone’s case for free last time.”

“That person was broke. You’re different. Yeah, I adjust my rates based on the client.”

Sheng Yu: “…”

“By the way,” Song Li suddenly asked, “Yin Sheng said you’d present as a Beta? Really? I find that hard to believe.”

Sheng Yu boarded Song Li’s aircraft and leaned against the door, her tone indifferent. “If you don’t believe it… then what do you think I’ll present as?”

“An Alpha.”

Sheng Yu raised an eyebrow. “Given my height, you still think I’d be an Alpha?”

“Intuition. Sure, 160cm Alphas are rare, but Omegas like you aren’t common either.” Song Li glanced at her. “What?”

“Why’d you stop talking?”

“You’re not actually pretending to be a Beta, are you?!” Song Li’s voice jumped an octave.

“Yeah.” There was no harm in telling Song Li. She already knew plenty about Sheng Yu—one more secret wouldn’t change anything.

Song Li: “…”

“Someone once anonymously asked me if there’d be consequences for a Beta pretending to be an Alpha to enlist. Never thought I’d see an Alpha pretending to be a Beta,” Song Li teased. She didn’t press for reasons—she could guess most of them anyway.

Sheng Yu smirked. “Oh? So are there consequences?”

“Not if nothing goes wrong. But if you mess up during a mission and they find out you’re a Beta posing as an Alpha, then you’re in trouble.”

“Got it,” Sheng Yu said flatly.

Song Li asked, “Did you feel anything when you presented? Was it painful? I heard the Alpha presentation process is pretty rough.”

“Felt nothing. I didn’t even notice when my gland developed. I still don’t know exactly when I’ll present.”

“That’s possible?!” Song Li was stunned.

“Hmm, and someone smelled my pheromones.” Sheng Yu tapped her fingers twice on the armrest beside her, thinking of Song Qing again, feeling somewhat irritated.

Song Li fell silent for a moment. “If you can already secrete pheromones now, then you could get tested early.”

“Huh?” Sheng Yu was taken aback.

“I’ve never heard of a case like yours. You might be an S-rank Alpha,” Song Li speculated.

“Impossible,” Sheng Yu frowned.

“Why not? Everyone knows roughly what A-rank and B-rank Alphas experience during differentiation. Only S-rank Alphas are a mystery—no one shares the specifics of their differentiation process. You can’t just be some random mutation.”

Sheng Yu: “…”

“Want to get tested?” Song Li tilted her head, looking at Sheng Yu.

Sheng Yu knew full well that Song Li just wanted to satisfy her own curiosity.

Truth be told, Sheng Yu was a little curious herself.

“So, are we going?” Song Li asked again, visibly excited.

Sheng Yu hesitated before asking, “Will my privacy be protected? I don’t want the results leaked the moment I step out.”

“You don’t trust me to handle it?” Song Li countered, sensing Sheng Yu’s interest. “So, are we going? Aren’t you even a little curious?”

Sheng Yu propped her chin on her hand, eyeing Song Li. “Honestly, you don’t exactly inspire confidence. I’m not reassured at all.”

Song Li: “…”

In the end, they didn’t go. Song Li’s company suddenly called her away for urgent business.

Cursing under her breath, Song Li left, dumping Sheng Yu unceremoniously on the side of the road.

Only after getting out of the car did Sheng Yu realize something—she had no money on her, just a school meal card. And Song Li’s spacecraft had already vanished from sight, making it impossible to track her down.

Her current location was a world away from the school. Walking back would take ages.

Sheng Yu sighed. Proof that Song Li was indeed unreliable—this was entirely her fault and had nothing to do with Sheng Yu herself.

She glanced around, mustered up the right expression, and walked into a nearby dessert shop.

“Miss, could I borrow your neural link? I was abandoned here… I don’t have any money or a neural link, and I can’t get home. I need to contact someone to pick me up.” Sheng Yu bit her lip, her eyes reddening, looking utterly pitiful.

“Of course.” The woman blinked in surprise before quickly granting access and handing over the device.

“Thank you, miss.” Sheng Yu gave her a grateful smile.

The woman smiled sheepishly. “Who would just leave you here alone? You’re a student, right? Shouldn’t you be in class at this hour?”

“Something… unpleasant happened. I didn’t have a choice.” Sheng Yu’s smile was strained.

“Thirteenth High, huh… figures.” The woman seemed to have guessed something and nodded understandingly.

Holding the neural link, Sheng Yu suddenly wasn’t sure who to call.

Everyone was in class.

Her eyes skimmed over the ID number she’d entered on the screen.

It was Song Qing’s.

But Song Qing obviously wasn’t going to come pick her up—she was surely busy studying. And as the student council president, even though no one policed her, she definitely wouldn’t have her communicator on her. Sheng Yu deleted the ID and sent a message to a certain “tool person.”

She sent her location—three different coordinates, in fact.

Sheng Yu: Come get me.

Imperial Tool Person: I’m on leave today.

Sheng Yu: Just take me back to school. It won’t take more than a few minutes.