I Woke Up and Became an Alpha (GL) - Chapter 2

Song Yuran’s strong will to survive made her desperately want to change her current situation. Under no circumstances could she be dissected as a specimen!

The first thing she did when she got home was open her computer and type in keywords: [Differentiation].

After Browse for a while, Song Yuran felt a bit deflated. From the verifiable data, she learned that differentiation occurred naturally at a certain age, and there was no artificial way to intervene in the process.

Furthermore, she saw the news that Zhao Anye had mentioned. The man in the photo was surrounded by several “experts” in white coats, posing for a picture. Just one photo gave her an extremely strong sense of oppression.

She shivered, deciding to try a roundabout approach.

Differentiation usually had one characteristic: a fever.

Song Yuran gritted her teeth, dove into the bathroom for a cold shower, and then stood on the balcony in her thin nightgown.

It was the season of spring transitioning to summer, and a cool breeze swept through, making her shiver.

But compared to being studied as an anomaly by a group of “experts,” what was a mere chill?

She looked up at the boundless night sky and shouted, “Please differentiate, ahhhhhhh!!!!”

The air was silent for a few seconds. Then a voice came from an unknown building: “My new partner’s just found, differentiate what?! Get lost!” After the shout, there was a “bang,” the sound of a window being slammed shut.

Song Yuran: “…”

The next day, Song Yuran arrived at the company as usual. Aside from her slightly pale face, there was nothing unusual.

Zhao Anye walked over with a cup of coffee, scrutinizing her. “What’s wrong? You’re wearing makeup, but you still look haggard.”

“Don’t even mention it, it’s exhausting just thinking about it.” Song Yuran said weakly. She had prepared to call in sick with a cold and fever today, but when she woke up, she felt perfectly fine. For the first time, she hated her robust, ox-like physique.

“Alright.” Zhao Anye paused, then handed her an unopened cup of coffee. “Today’s coffee is buy-one-get-one-free. I have an extra one; do you want it?”

“Thanks.” Song Yuran, upon taking the coffee, felt a tiny bit better. She smiled and said, “You’re so nice~”

Then she felt an intense gaze and turned her head to see Cheng Qingqing looking at them meaningfully, the unconscious curve of her lips making Song Yuran uncomfortable.

This familiar sense of déjà vu…

It reminded her of her fujoshi roommate in college, who would make that exact face whenever she saw two boys getting a little close.

She recalled some gossip, she and Zhao Anye apparently had a bit of an ambiguous relationship.

Both parties involved found the rumor absurd.

But considering that a few Omegas in the department seemed to be subtly flirting with her, her current situation was clearly not good.

So, she merely smiled at Cheng Qingqing’s teasing gaze, silently condoning the pairing.

“But you look really pale. Are you really okay?” Zhao Anye asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.” Song Yuran waved her hand. Her pale face was due to not sleeping well last night, only thinking about differentiation, caused by excessive mental stress. She admitted, “It’s just emotional stress.”

“I see.” Zhao Anye nodded. “A new mall opened nearby recently. How about we go check it out after work and relax a bit?”

“Sounds good.” Song Yuran readily agreed. “I was just thinking of buying some clothes.”

Song Yuran was utterly disgusted with the clothes in her wardrobe. After a few days of observation, she found that the fashion sense of people in this world was generally stuck twenty years in the past.

Dated, just too dated.

After work, without a moment’s delay, the two headed straight for the new mall.

The mall was very close to their company, located in the bustling CBD, only a ten-minute walk away.

It was a little past five, and the sky hadn’t completely darkened yet, but the LED advertising lights on the mall’s exterior walls had already started flashing, displaying the boldly written characters “Tiansu City.”

“The architecture of this mall is actually quite nice; it looks very high-end from the outside.” Song Yuran couldn’t help but take a few extra glances. This design would be considered innovative even in the modern world.

“It’s built by Wanzhou Group, after all. They’re loaded,” Zhao Anye casually replied.

Wanzhou Group? Song Yuran frowned. Why did that name sound familiar? Like she’d heard it somewhere before.

But she couldn’t recall any specific memories, so she just let it go.

The mall had five floors. The basement was a supermarket, the first and second floors housed apparel brands, and above that were restaurants and a cinema.

The variety of shops made Song Yuran dizzy. For a moment, she didn’t have any particular store she wanted to enter, so she asked the person beside her, “Anye, which brands do you usually like to shop at?”

“Let me see.” Zhao Anye had already picked up the mall’s directory and was studying the shops on each floor. Soon, she let out a slightly puzzled “Huh,” muttering to herself, “They actually have a branch here…”

She quickly added, “Let’s go to the second floor. There’s a brand of clothes I often repurchase; the quality is pretty good.”

Song Yuran nodded and followed Zhao Anye up to the second floor. Led by her, they arrived at a clothing brand store.

From the glass display window outside, they could see the mannequins inside, and there were sales associates specially stationed at the entrance.

As soon as they stepped inside, the sales associates in the store greeted them with a coordinated smile: “Welcome to Qi Jiu Zhi Jia!” (House of Qi Jiu)

“Let me tell you, Qi Jiu Zhi Jia’s clothes are affordable and comfortable. This one I’m wearing, I bought right after graduation, and I’m still wearing it now. The quality is top-notch.” Zhao Anye, now in full shopping mode, started talking more. She walked to a rack and picked up a top, examining it.

Song Yuran, however, stood in front of a display rack and took a look. The clothing designs in this store were rather conventional, mostly casual and business-casual, suitable for office workers. To her, there was nothing particularly outstanding.

“How about this shirt? It suits you quite well.” Zhao Anye picked up a silk casual shirt. The embroidery on the chest made the entire garment look less monotonous.

Song Yuran took the shirt. Her occupational hazard kicked in, and she began to find flaws: “The fabric is good, but the design is just too ugly. What kind of pattern is this? So unsightly. I wouldn’t have liked this even when I was in school. And, this cut would make a person look a size fatter, wouldn’t it? Casual doesn’t mean this casual.”

She placed the shirt back on the rack and then picked up a dress hanging nearby. “This dress, is it for aunts? The color is too old-fashioned, all flowery and gaudy, really jarring. The waist design is also unreasonable. If they had just changed the color, chosen a fresh, or at least a light color, it wouldn’t be such a slow-seller.”

As she spoke, a person suddenly appeared in the empty aisle, wearing a staff uniform.

“…” Her impassioned critique abruptly stopped. Song Yuran put on a serious expression and commented, “However, existence is reasonable. Someone will always appreciate it, hmm.”

Zhao Anye: “…” Your face-changing is too fast, isn’t it?!

Song Yuran was so embarrassed she wanted to find a crack in the floor to crawl into. She had thought they were alone and had just started complaining to Zhao Anye, but she didn’t expect a staff member to hear her.

She really didn’t want to be thrown out of this store.

Luckily, the staff member didn’t say anything and soon left.

Song Yuran exhaled softly, putting the dress back on the rack. She still thought the dress was ugly after another look.

Zhao Anye also followed her gaze and said, “I wouldn’t have thought so if you hadn’t said anything, but now that you mention it, it’s true. A different base color would look much better.” She paused and teased, “Who knew, Yuran, when did your aesthetic sense become so sharp? You usually buy clothes so casually.”

Song Yuran chuckled awkwardly, not daring to reply. She couldn’t very well say that clothing design was her old profession.

Mindful of the embarrassment caused by the staff member earlier, and feeling that the store’s clothing style didn’t suit her, Song Yuran had no intention of buying anything. Seeing this, Zhao Anye, who was accompanying her, followed her out.

Just as they reached the storefront, someone quickly walked up and blocked their path.

“Ladies, please stop.”

Both of them paused, getting a clear look at the staff member in front of them. Their uniform was very similar to the regular staff but distinct from others.

Soon, the person introduced herself: “Hello, I am the store manager. My colleague just told me that this lady has suggestions for improving our products. Would it be convenient to discuss them in detail?”

This couldn’t be a trap, could it…? A bead of sweat trickled down Song Yuran’s temple.

“As a token of our appreciation, the store will present each of you with one item, which you may choose freely.”

Originally, she had planned to laugh off the issue, but upon hearing the tempting offer from the store manager, her body reacted faster than her brain. She immediately replied, “Okay!”

After some delay in the store, Song Yuran simply expressed her suggestions for improvement, and the store manager noted each one down.

These minor suggestions, which Song Yuran considered nothing, were actually eye-opening designs in this world.

“Miss Song, are you in a related industry?” the store manager asked delightedly, “Our company’s product department is recruiting designers. Are you interested?”

“No.” Song Yuran quickly waved her hand, politely declining the store manager’s olive branch. Design was a dog-eat-dog job. She didn’t want to work overtime anymore; her life was more important.

Coming out of the store, Zhao Anye, who also received a complimentary piece of clothing, seemed very happy. She linked arms with Song Yuran and walked upstairs, laughing, “Yuran, I never would have thought you had a talent for fashion design.”

“Just a lucky guess.”

“But if you want to switch careers to design, why not do it at our company? Designers have good benefits, and it’s better to keep good things in the family.”

“Huh?” Song Yuran was slightly stunned and instinctively asked, “Our company actually has designers?”

“Of course, and its own brand too.”

These past few days, she had been so preoccupied with differentiation that she hadn’t paid attention to the company’s situation. She had originally thought this company only did clothing trade, but she didn’t expect it to have its own brand.

But none of that concerned her.

The two walked and browsed, and when they had looked enough, they went upstairs to a restaurant for dinner.

As soon as they finished ordering, Song Yuran suddenly noticed that her finger had somehow gotten ink on it. She quickly stood up: “I’m going to wash my hands.”

There was no restroom in the restaurant, so Song Yuran had to leave the establishment and follow the mall’s signs towards the restroom.

The restroom was located in the furthest corner of the floor, very secluded. The deeper she walked in, the fewer people there were.

Following the signs, Song Yuran entered the corridor. The empty hallway was so quiet that she could only hear the sound of her high heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Click, click, click.

She turned on the faucet, and water streamed down, landing on a pair of fair, delicate hands, quickly wetting them.

Song Yuran squirted some hand soap and scrubbed off the ink stain on her finger, then carefully washed her fingers and even her wrists thoroughly.

The hand soap smelled good, a refreshing scent similar to mint. She put her hand to her nose and sniffed, the fresh scent making her lips curve in pleasure.

After washing her hands, Song Yuran didn’t rush to leave. She pursed her lips in the mirror and then took out her lip gloss to touch up her lip color.

Thump—

A muffled thud suddenly echoed in the quiet restroom, startling Song Yuran. She instinctively turned her head to look at the cubicle on her right.

Within her line of sight, only the door of the innermost cubicle was ajar. But after that sound, there was no other noise in the restroom, as if nothing had happened.

“…”

It was eerily quiet.

She felt a little unnerved and wanted to leave, but then a suppressed gasp sounded from inside the restroom.

It sounded like someone was in pain.

She didn’t want to meddle, but Song Yuran felt a strange sense of telepathy, inexplicably sensing that the person making the sound was in great distress and perhaps needed her help.

She slowly approached the innermost cubicle and tentatively said, “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

After she spoke, she distinctly felt the gasp completely suppress itself.

Song Yuran was already standing in front of the door. The door was ajar, allowing her to see a shadow of a person on the partition, cast by the incandescent light.

She hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand and knocked on the door. “Do you need help?”

The person inside replied with one word: “Scram.”

“…………”