Turn her into an omega

Chapter 5

The Federation's capital is bustling with activity, far more impressive than the exile planet, with even the people walking on the streets appearing more distinguished.

Alec, dressed in unattractive clothes, walked along the streets and constantly attracted attention. Apart from feeling a bit uneasy at the port when he first arrived in the capital, he quickly stopped caring. The people here dressed well and ate well, but none were as skilled as him.

When he arrived at the address Mila had given him yesterday, Alec took out the card, and the waiter immediately escorted him to a private room. This was his first time in such a high-end restaurant, and everything seemed novel to him. Noticing some snacks on a nearby table, he asked the waiter if they were free to eat.

"...Yes," the waiter replied.

When Tom entered, he saw Alec standing by a decorative table, stuffing snacks into his mouth with one hand and into his pocket with the other, much to the waiter's shock.

"Have you never been full before?" Tom asked disdainfully.

Alec glanced at him, realized he wasn’t Mila, and ignored him, continuing to eat.

"...Pack two bags for him, the largest ones you have," Tom instructed the waiter.

The waiter, recognizing Tom and realizing that he knew this guest, finally breathed a sigh of relief and went to fetch the bags.

Tom leaned against the table, casually sifting through the snacks but ultimately didn’t take any. "The real good stuff is coming up from the kitchen. If you fill up now, how will you enjoy it later? Mila’s got money, so it’s worth it to save some room."

“What’s it to you?” Alec replied.

Tom shrugged and then took the two large bags from the waiter’s hands. "You head on up first; we’re together. I’ll bring him up in a bit."

The waiter gratefully smiled at Tom, relieved that this odd-looking guy had someone with him. A mistake in service could cost them.

"Stop eating. These two big bags are yours," Tom said, handing the bags to Alec. "Is the exile planet so poor you can’t even get a full meal, or is there something special about your metabolism?"

He couldn’t fathom that such a situation still existed in the Federation. The local relief agencies provided so much donated food daily that it often went uneaten. How could anyone go hungry on a normal planet?

Alec finished eating, snatched the two large bags from Tom without answering, and simply asked, "Where do we eat?"

Tom was left speechless. Damn, this freshman had no manners!

"Upstairs. Mila likes to arrive early; she’s probably already waiting in the private room," Tom said as he walked ahead. At the corner, he glanced back at Alec. "How did it feel going up against Robert? The moves he used on you were textbook level."

Putting aside his lack of differentiation, Robert was undoubtedly top-tier in every aspect. It’s no wonder he’s as famous as Mila, not just because of the Morgan family backing him.

"He's strong," Alec replied in a deep voice. "But one day, I’ll definitely beat him."

As he finished speaking, Tom had just stopped to open the door to the private room. Mila turned to look at them and said calmly, "You? Beat Robert? Impossible."

"Why can't I win?" Alec had little regard for Robert; he saw the members of the Disciplinary Committee as people who were all show with no substance. "I’ll get stronger."

Mila released the whiskey glass from her hand and smiled slightly. "Someone who only knows how to fight can’t beat Robert."

"Why is it always about Robert, even here?" Tom said as he sat down across from Mila, seeming to forget that he was the one who had brought up the topic. "I’m hungry. Let’s have them bring out the food."

"Take a seat. Order whatever you want," Mila gestured to the seat next to Tom and said to Alec, "Today’s just a friendly meeting between new and old students."

Alec stared at Mila for a long moment before finally sitting down. "What do you want to know?"

"About the exile planet."

...

It was Saturday, a day off, and early in the morning, the Morgan family sent three cars to pick up Robert. When he came out, someone was already waiting at the school gate.

"Young Master," the lead person stepped forward to remind him, "the Master is in the car."

Robert headed towards the middle car, and someone immediately stepped up to open the rear door, shielding him as he got in.

"Father," Robert greeted.

Inside sat a handsome man who looked to be in his twenties, dressed with the same meticulous precision. After Robert entered, the man paused his work. "How was your week at school?"

"Nothing major," Robert replied casually as he leaned against the car window after closing the door.

Keelin Morgan glanced at his son. "I heard Mila isn’t leaving this semester."

Robert was surprised, though his tone remained unchanged. "Really? She’s probably short on credits."

"That’s true. Even with as many credits as the top ten have, it’s hard to keep up if you skip a year of classes," Keelin didn’t press further but changed the subject. "Your coming-of-age ceremony is approaching. What would you like as a gift?"

Robert looked at the passing scenery outside the window and said, "...To differentiate soon."

"Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with your body," Keelin reassured, reaching out to pat his son’s head. "You’ll differentiate eventually."

Very few people knew that Robert had once begun to differentiate, but just as the process started, it was forcibly suppressed, leading to a severe illness. After that, his differentiation showed no further signs.

Back at home, Robert was noticeably more relaxed than he was at school. After having his meal, he returned to his room to rest.

Once he removed his military uniform, Robert lay on his bed, wrapping himself in a thin blanket, and quietly browsed the anonymous campus forum. Ninety percent of the titles he clicked on contained one particular name.

If Mila were here, she might have noticed that the skin on the ankle exposed from beneath the blanket was unusually delicate and fair, not fitting the typical Alpha characteristics.

"Breaking News!!! Today Mila was spotted having a meal with a freshman!!! Photos included!!"

Robert’s finger hesitated as he came across this title, feeling a bit displeased. It took him a while before he finally clicked on it.

"OMG, isn’t that the same freshman Robert beat up at the school gate before? Is Mila trying to recruit Robert’s enemy?"

"The commenter above, Mila also hit that freshman. Maybe Mila has taken a liking to the freshman. Though he seems a bit slow, he’s not bad-looking."

"AA relationships aren’t advisable."

"What era are we living in? What’s wrong with AA or OO relationships?"

As the thread continued, the discussion increasingly deviated, with more and more people speculating about a romantic relationship between Mila and the freshman. Some even suggested that Mila returned just for the freshman. Robert grew increasingly frustrated, and finally, unable to contain himself, he used his alternate account to comment.

"She doesn’t like this type."

"How do you know Mila doesn’t like this type? I think the freshman seems pretty good!"

"She doesn’t like him."

"Alright, alright, let’s drop it. This is probably just another one of Mila’s crazy admirers."

Robert shut down his terminal, refusing to look at any more of those messages. He knew Mila didn’t like that type of person—he had always known.

"Robert," Keelin knocked on the door from outside, "Mila just asked for your contact information."

There was the sound of hurried footsteps, and the next second, the door swung open. Robert looked at his father. "She... asked for my contact?"

"She said she wanted to thank you personally for the coming-of-age gift you sent her," Keelin replied, frowning slightly. "You’ve been at the same school all this time and never exchanged contact information?"

"...No," Robert replied quietly. Though they had been at the same school, their social circles rarely overlapped. Mila mostly hung out with Tom and spent the rest of her time doing her own thing. Even before attending the First Military Academy, she was already notorious in the capital for being the queen of skipping classes.

Keelin didn’t quite understand what young people these days were thinking, but he didn’t interfere. "Mila has your contact now, and when I subtly asked, she confirmed she’ll be attending your coming-of-age ceremony on the 28th."

After Keelin left, Robert closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror. He then turned and immediately began changing into a different outfit.

...

After leaving the restaurant, the three went their separate ways. Mila neither returned to school nor went home; instead, she headed to a shopping mall.

While walking, she initially intended to call Robert, but when she opened her terminal, she realized she didn’t have his contact information. After getting Keelin’s number from her father, she had specifically called him to ask for Robert’s contact details.

However, after obtaining the number, Mila didn’t immediately make the call. Instead, she entered a high-end custom jewelry store in the mall. After browsing the exquisite items on display, she directly asked the manager, "Do you have neck locks?"

The manager remained calm, "Are you referring to... that kind of neck lock? If you need one, you can follow us to the top floor for a viewing."

"Let's go."

The top floor was quite different from the bright and transparent jewelry store below. The lighting here was more intimate, with each display meticulously designed. It felt more like a large neck lock exhibition hall, showcasing a variety of materials and designs.

The most striking piece was a neck lock on the main display, adorned with gold lace and intricate details.

The manager began to speak, "These neck locks in the display cases are designed by our master craftsmen—elegant and refined, perfect for gifting to..."

Mila interrupted him, "What if I want to design one myself?"

The manager immediately understood the situation. Alpha were known for their strong, possessive tendencies, though they still maintained a polite demeanor. "Of course, we can arrange that. We have a dedicated design studio where you can create your own design. However, as it is a new design, the failure rate is higher, and the cost is somewhat more expensive."

"Show me," Mila said, following the manager further inside and then dialed Robert’s contact.

She didn’t initiate a video call, only a voice call. Once connected, she said, "Robert?"

There was a long pause before he responded, "…What’s up?"

"I saw the coming-of-age gift you sent," Mila said casually, her gaze drifting over the neck locks on display. "I really liked it."

Robert, now dressed in a different outfit and having not received a video call, felt a bit embarrassed remembering the gift he had sent, though his tone remained cold. "So?"

"So, I should give you a gift for your coming-of-age as well," Mila said as she walked into the design studio. Then she seemed to suddenly remember something. "Robert, do you know that’s a fetish neck lock? It’s something typically given between lovers. You’ve been duped."

As expected, the person on the other end of the line seemed quite displeased and abruptly ended the call.

Listening to the call disconnect, Mila felt a strange sense of satisfaction, as if she had won a small victory, and her mood lifted slightly.