Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 5

After glaring angrily at the reflection on the ceiling mirror for a long while, Song Yi belatedly realized that her appearance was nearly identical to that of the original scumbag Alpha.

Both had high, straight nose bridges and sharp, well-defined facial features—the only difference lay in their temperaments and styles.

In her original world, Song Yi had been a true career woman with a cold, unyielding demeanor, constantly navigating business circles. She mostly wore formal suits, deliberately downplaying her feminine traits. In contrast, the scumbag Alpha Song Yi had hidden her dominant Alpha nature behind a facade of gentleness to charm others, allowing her to effortlessly manipulate all three ABO types.

The saying “a gentle knife cuts deepest” felt like the perfect literal description for the original scumbag Alpha, Song Yi mused.

She studied her own eyes for a long moment. Just as described in the novel, the scumbag Alpha Song Yi also possessed a pair of perfectly shaped phoenix eyes, naturally alluring and commanding. However, the scumbag Alpha had softened them with makeup, the exact opposite of Song Yi’s habit of using sharp eyeliner to enhance her presence.

This was one difference Song Yi didn’t mind. Freed from those pressures and burdens now, she was happy to shed the disguise and even willing to let some gentleness show.

Her neck ached from tilting her head back for so long, so she lowered her gaze and saw Zhou Zhou sleeping soundly under the calming influence of her pheromones.

Currently, the colorful lights reflected from the ceiling mirror were still flickering, and Song Yi’s hand remained pressed over Zhou Zhou’s eyelids, unable to pull away just yet.

Perhaps due to the Heat period, Zhou Zhou’s skin was slightly warmer than usual, and the faint rise and fall of her breathing against Song Yi’s palm made her itch slightly.

She averted her gaze from Zhou Zhou’s face and looked back up at the mirror, testing a command: “Off.”

Instantly, the lights vanished, and the mirror reverted to a plain white ceiling, stripping away the nightclub atmosphere and restoring the room to its proper state.

Song Yi withdrew her hand from Zhou Zhou’s eyes and stood up awkwardly, flexing her fingers unconsciously as they hung at her sides.

She was hungry. She wanted to eat.

After casting one last glance at Zhou Zhou and releasing more pheromones to saturate the room with the rich scent of red wine, Song Yi closed the door and hurried downstairs.

She believed hunger should be addressed immediately—or maybe she was just looking for an excuse to temporarily escape the room that might make her lose her head again.

Before transmigrating into the novel, Song Yi had been working overtime, going a full day without a hot meal. Such habits had given her stomach problems at a young age. Now, she couldn’t tell if her hunger was psychological or physical.

Reaching the second floor, she noticed the earlier room was still open. She stepped inside, returning the handcuffs, shackles, and mouth gag to their original places on the wall. As she bent down, she caught sight of a small knife lying forgotten in the corner.

Song Yi crouched to examine it—the same crescent-shaped blade she had given Zhou Zhou for self-defense before marking her.

The fact that it lay here, untouched, meant Zhou Zhou had never even considered defending herself against Song Yi.

She lingered for a moment, then placed the knife back properly before leaving the room. Her footsteps felt heavier as she continued downstairs.

She headed straight for the kitchen and opened the fridge, which was stocked with high-end ingredients—most of which she had no idea how to cook.

Thinking about her abysmal cooking skills, Song Yi instinctively shook her head. She closed the refrigerator dedicated to vegetables and opened another one, which contained fresh fruits. Unable to find any cherries, she took out a box of yellow seedless watermelon, skewered a piece with a toothpick, and popped it into her mouth. It was quite sweet, but eating something cold on an empty stomach wasn’t very comfortable.

She only ate one piece before putting it down and went to look for her phone.

The technological level of this world was similar to her original one, with convenient food delivery and express services.

Not finding it in her trouser pockets, Song Yi tried to recall—she hadn’t seen it in the two rooms on the second or third floors either. Giving up the search, she decided to cook for herself. So what if it tasted bad? It was just for her own consumption anyway.

Among the fresh ingredients, Song Yi barely managed to find a bundle of dried noodles with a relatively longer shelf life. She boiled some broth, added the noodles, chopped some scallions, threw in two eggs, and finally, with great restraint, sprinkled in a little salt.

This time, she was extra cautious, but the result still didn’t taste right. Still, it was an improvement compared to before. She took a sip of the hot broth and then, with a pained expression, ate the noodles. Just as she was finishing, she heard a phone ringtone coming from the living room.

The rhythm was urgent and energetic—typical of the original scumbag Alpha’s style.

Following the sound, Song Yi quickly found the phone inside a gray suit jacket draped over the sofa.

The case was gold-plated and flashy. Frowning, Song Yi sat on the sofa, removed the gaudy case, and checked the caller ID.

The screen displayed the name “Lu Yu.” Song Yi remembered that Lu Yu was cut from the same cloth as the original owner—before bringing Zhou Zhou here, the scumbag Alpha had just come out of a club with Lu Yu.

Song Yi didn’t answer, letting the call end automatically.

She opened the contacts list and scrolled through it, her gaze settling on Ding Chen, her personal physician responsible for her health. She dialed the number.

Ding Chen was exercising on a treadmill when she suddenly received a call from her employer, which surprised her.

She had been overseeing Song Yi’s health for 20 years, and this was the first time Song Yi had proactively contacted her. Previously, she had only conducted weekly routine check-ups to ensure Song Yi’s body was in good condition.

Pausing the treadmill, she answered the call and was even more shocked when Song Yi asked about the precautions for an Omega whose Heat period had been forcibly triggered early due to maturation agents, who had then received a Temporary mark from an Alpha, and whether Inhibitors and high-strength pheromone blockers could be used.

“A physical examination is necessary to determine the specifics. Improper use of maturation agents can have severe consequences for an Omega. For now, no matter what, please refrain from touching her.”

Having been Song Yi’s personal physician for so long, Ding Chen was aware of her employer’s character. Normally, she could tolerate the various humiliating “plays” Song Yi subjected Omegas to—she could at least try to heal their injuries during the weekly check-ups. But improper use of maturation agents could cause lifelong hormonal imbalances and loss of control in an Omega whose development wasn’t yet complete.

Song Yi couldn’t miss the implicit yet strong accusation in Dr. Ding’s words. The doctor was standing up for Zhou Zhou. Far from feeling wronged or resentful about being blamed, Song Yi was glad that someone in this world disapproved of the original scumbag Alpha’s behavior.

“I understand. Please come as soon as possible.”

After hanging up, Ding Chen still felt somewhat dazed. She wondered if it was her imagination, but Song Yi seemed different today.

Song Yi had no intention of maintaining the original scumbag Alpha persona, nor was she worried about raising suspicions. After all, a change in temperament was far more acceptable than having one’s soul replaced through transmigration. There were countless reasons for personality shifts—examples of villains suddenly seeing the light weren’t unheard of.

After contacting the doctor, Song Yi remembered Zhou Zhou might wake up hungry, so she quickly ordered various takeout items before hurrying upstairs.

Her steps were rushed, carrying an urgency she herself didn’t notice.

The moment she pushed open the door, she suddenly saw Zhou Zhou sitting up in bed—swift as a silhouette—gazing at her intently. Clear eyes brimmed with deep dependence.

Song Yi was dazed for a moment, but only a moment.

During this sensitive period, it was perfectly natural for an Omega to feel dependent on the Alpha who had marked her.