After Transmigrating as a Scumbag Alpha, I Was Pampered by a Paranoid Omega - Chapter 1

The summer heat was sweltering. The asphalt road was baked scorching hot as a deep black car drove slowly along its path.

“Where are you taking me?”

Bai Manruo watched as the scenery outside the window grew increasingly remote. The driver remained utterly silent in response to her question. She had tried various methods along the way to fish for information, but she couldn’t find out where they were headed.

She rubbed her head, which had suddenly begun to throb with a sharp pain. Gradually, a flood of memories that didn’t belong to her rushed into her mind.

It turned out she had transmigrated into a book—specifically, a novel she had casually skimmed through at a street stall once.

Bai Manruo stopped trying to pry information from the driver. By a stroke of terrible luck, the two pages she had happened to read back then detailed the original character’s tragic ending.

This was an ABO world, populated by Alphas, Omegas, and Betas. Only Alphas and Omegas possessed glands at the nape of their necks that emitted pheromones. Once an Omega entered their heat, the scent from their gland would become much stronger than usual, driving Alphas into a frenzy. In turn, a compatible Alpha’s pheromones could soothe an Omega.

The original owner of this body was an absolute “scumbag Alpha” in the entertainment industry. She was a “triple-threat loser” eighteenth-tier starlet: no background, no acting skills, and no education. She relied solely on her breathtakingly beautiful face to bewitch people, recklessly sparking scandals left and right.

Eventually, she messed with the daughter of a high-ranking industry executive and was effectively blacklisted. Soon after, her agent heartlessly signed a contract that “dumped” her at a mysterious castle. Within a few days, the original body died a bizarre death.

At the time, Bai Manruo had thought the plot was incredibly melodramatic, which is why she had only glanced at it before walking away from the stall.

Bai Manruo’s slender fingers tapped the seat in regret. If she had known she’d end up in such a trashy novel, she wouldn’t have dared to only read two pages.

The novel described the original character as a “peerless beauty.” Bai Manruo hadn’t believed it until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the phone screen: delicate, compact features; skin as white and translucent as cold jade; a pert nose; rosy, defined lips; and voluminous black hair cascading over her shoulders. Beneath her curled lashes hid a pair of ink-black eyes.

Even without a drop of makeup and with her thick hair uncombed, she was captivating. Her every lazy, casual movement tugged at one’s heartstrings. She was so beautiful it was hard to look away.

Her beauty was beyond doubt, but the original owner had used it like a weapon and played a winning hand terribly. Now, as Bai Manruo thought about the impending ending, she was in no mood to admire how good her face looked.

The car drove deeper into the wilderness. Bai Manruo felt a surge of panic but was helpless; the car was sealed tight, leaving her no chance to jump out.

After an unknown amount of time, the car finally stopped. Before her stood a massive ancient castle. It occupied an area that seemed larger than a golf course, and the entire place exuded an eerie, sinister vibe.

Despite the blazing midday sun, she felt a strange chill go down her throat. Her heart hammered faster with every step she took toward the entrance.

Her legs suddenly went weak. she whipped around, intending to flee, but the black car that had been parked by the gates was already gone.

Bai Manruo stood frozen, her legs feeling like they were glued to the spot. The heavy gates of the castle had closed at some point behind her. She was trapped.

As the sun began to set, Bai Manruo crouched on the ground, staying there stubbornly until nightfall. She thought self-destructively: I’ll stall for as long as I can.

Under the hazy moonlight, her skin appeared even more delicate and translucent, her face seemingly coated in a cold, silvery glow. With her long, seaweed-like hair draped over her back as she huddled on the ground, she looked like an elf belonging to the castle—except for the fear and unease reflecting in her bright black pupils.

She hadn’t been afraid of much growing up, but she was terrified of ghosts. Even though she knew they didn’t exist, the unknown was always the most frightening thing.

Deep into the night, not a single soul had emerged from the castle. Bai Manruo massaged her numb legs and cast a searching glance forward.

Could it be that no one actually lives in this castle?

The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself she was right. If no one was there, she certainly couldn’t sleep outside where it felt unsafe; she’d have to go in eventually.

After giving herself enough mental pep talks, she finally stood up hesitantly. Lugging her suitcase, she headed inside. The dark red wooden doors were carved with bronze-green patterns, and even the doorknobs were incredibly exquisite.

Bai Manruo thought the doors looked expensive. Is this some family’s historic estate? If it were truly an abandoned site, the doorknobs wouldn’t be so clean, nor would the doors be free of dust. However, she was too nervous to notice such small details.

Once inside, the interior was pitch black. She turned on her flashlight and, guided by the weak beam, found a room at random. She didn’t dare look around or touch anything.

The room wasn’t as messy as she expected an uninhabited place to be. There weren’t even any cobwebs. On the contrary, the white sheets on the bed were as clean as if they had just been changed.

She didn’t have the energy to think about it. Her only goal was to survive the night and see if she could escape tomorrow. Otherwise, she’d meet the “mysterious death” within a few days just like in the book.

Her phone had only 1% battery left. The light flickered and died just as she fumbled her way onto the bed.

She was still wearing the white dress her agent had made her change into this morning. She had thought there was an event scheduled; she never expected to be dumped at a castle in the middle of nowhere.

The window didn’t seem to be shut tight. Whether it was a psychological effect or just the gloom of the location, the night wind carried a chill. The cold air snaked up her back, traveling along each vertebra.

Bai Manruo couldn’t stop shivering. To stop her mind from wandering, she began silently counting sheep to fall asleep.

Just as she reached the 99th sheep and her eyelids grew heavy, she heard a sharp creak. It sounded like the door had been blown open by the wind, but she didn’t dare get out of bed to close it.

Lying on her side, she curled toward the wall and covered her eyes with her hands, chanting mental reassurances.

It’s just the door. Don’t overthink it. There are no ghosts in this world.

Before she could finish her frantic internal monologue, her eyelashes fluttered and her back stiffened. She was frozen with terror.

Behind her, something had lifted the covers and climbed into bed.

Her trembling lashes flickered as she stole a glance. A pair of pale hands had wrapped around her waist—they were so white they didn’t look like a normal person’s skin. The well-defined hands pressed firmly against the small of her back, as if pinning down prey.

Tensing up, her back arched involuntarily, the line of her spine protruding slightly. She was enveloped by the soft body of the person behind her. A thin chin rested on her shoulder, and heavy breathing brushed against her earlobe, accompanied by a faint, pained groan.

Hearing the person’s sound of agony, Bai Manruo dared not move an inch. She was terrified that if she did, she wouldn’t even last the three days.