Title of the book: Exiles
Author: Milky Way Egg Tart
copywriting
The original is generally directed to the H in the air, the beauty of the drama is strong and dark
This work is classified as restricted and should not be read by readers under the age of 18.
Exile No. 329, in his thirties, a male omega, a felon, opened the door of his house one day and met the alpha girl Yasha who was sleeping on his bed.
Female A Male O/GB/Fourth Love/Female Attack Male Shou/Help Her Attack, Overhead Background, Insanity, Inequality, The Male Lead Has Been Black-Framed by Passers-by (Many Times) Shy Tyrant Lolita X Lifeless Youth's Unhealthy love story.
1. First meeting
Times have changed and everything is more forgiving these days. They no longer throw felons into fallout, the newest places of exile are in shelters, and people who shouldn't be wasting water and food are now among ordinary citizens.
When No. 329 woke up, it was completely dark. He propped himself up on the ground and got up slowly, when his palm touched something sticky. He suspected it was some animal's carcass, and it took a while to realize that it was a used condom. He threw away the thing, leaned on the wall to stand firm, and packed his clothes and pants. There are two buttons missing on the jacket, and I can't button them. There are no street lights in this alley. 329 squinted his eyes and searched for a long time, but he couldn't find it, so he had to give up.
His forehead was itchy and the skin on his face was tight, and he wiped it with the back of his hand, but it didn't help much—he had been lying here for at least half an hour, and all the fluid had dried up. His fingers were dirtier than his cheeks, there was mud under his nails, and there were dried blood on his fingers, all because the ground in the dark alley was too rough and his nails were cut too short. But if the nails are kept long, the chance of breaking them will increase greatly. Last month, he accidentally knocked off half of his nails, which was very painful.
No. 329 limped out of the alley, and the pedestrians at the alley took a few glances at him, and quickly looked away. The collar around his neck shimmered in the dark, too, and as long as he wore it, no one would make a fuss about his face or anything.
In the second year after the promulgation of the new exile law, the serial number has already exceeded 500. In fact, it was in the early 300s last year. Just look at the serial number of this man. No one is born with a stupid number like that, he has a name, but that doesn't matter much, let's call him 329. 329 is a felon, an exile, in his thirties, male omega. He is basically healthy and has no problems with his legs, but he can't walk for a while.
329 dragged his legs, and with his still dizzy head on his head, walked slowly back to the rental house. He walked very slowly, and he was very sleep deprived recently, and almost fell asleep on the way. He was only supported by the thought of going home to take a shower so that he didn't lie down on the spot. The dark alley was half a street away from his kennel, and when 329 reached the place, he was about to take out his key, but found that the door was unlocked.
The address of each exile is registered in the government network, and all private watches can be quickly found. Citizens still think that is not conspicuous enough, so they have to use ancient methods to mark it, such as using paint to draw dots on the criminal's door What. The people who care the least about their possessions rent out houses to exiles, and those houses must be utterly dilapidated, worth a few buckets of paint and a few dead rats, and don't mind changing the locks every month. 329 held the key and stared at the lock, surprised at how intact it was. This time the door lock wasn't broken, it was just pried open.
He opened the door and fumbled to turn on the light, revealing a sweeping view of the room. There is nothing missing in the rental house, on the contrary, something is added.
A pair of expensive-looking shoes were neatly placed beside the folding bed, and a well-dressed girl was lying on the bed with all her clothes on, like a purebred cat that crawled in from nowhere, huddling up on the narrow bed of 329 obediently and harmlessly . 329 closed his eyes for a few seconds, and when he opened them again, the girl was still there, with neat braids and a childish face.
She does look like a fairytale protagonist who went on the wrong set, but first of all, this is the ghetto that the toughest guys don't like to walk through at night, and second, she doesn't smell like a child, that's an alpha.
329's head throbbed with pain, he stood holding the doorknob for a minute, and decided to take a shower first.
The rental house only supplies hot water for a few hours a day. Because of the delay on the road, 329 has already missed the prime time. In another month or two, cold showers will become unbearable, but right now the temperature is fine and a cold shower will do nothing. He turned on the faucet, and the water dripped feebly from the shower. It was reddish-brown at first, and then became transparent after a while.
The water column is as soft as boiled noodles, and it will still cause stinging pain when it falls on the wound. The blood scab melts under the feet, making the water flow turbid again, which is the same color as the rusty water that has been in the water pipe for a long time.
It took him half an hour to clean himself up, the cold water numb the swollen area, but the drowsiness was driven away by the cold as much as the pain. 329 walked out of the bathroom wiping his hair, not as sleepy as before, thinking like an adult again. The reset of thinking ability means that he has to start to face reality instead of lying to himself and falling asleep.
Trouble took over his bed.
He looked down at his bed, thinking that the uninvited guest had probably just broken up. She smelled of grass, I don't know if it was her own smell or the shower gel or shampoo, this alpha smelled like a herbivore. Taking a closer look, she was as beautiful as a porcelain doll, so beautiful that it made 329 feel uneasy. These days, beauty and wisdom are not necessarily a gift from God. Perfect genes are also clearly priced, circulated in the upper class, and act as limited commodities for the nobles.
"Hey, wake up!" 329 said.
He didn't dare to reach out and push her, it would be foolish to touch such a strange visitor rashly. He could only stand two steps away, trying to wake her up, hoping that she didn't have too much trouble.
Sleeping Beauty wakes up.
She looked at 329 sleepily, blinked her eyes, then widened them all at once, and the drowsiness disappeared like morning mist. She got up from the bed in a jiffy, moving too fast, bumping her head against the cabinet next to her, gasping for breath in pain, but her eyes kept staring at 329, unwilling to move away at all. This alpha has a pair of emerald green eyes, she stared straight at 329, making his back hairy.
He touched his face reflexively. He just took a shower and there was nothing on his face. 329 almost suspected that the other party knew him, but the next moment he gave up the idea. The girl's eyes are too eager. It's not the eyes of the old friend, but the eyes of the child who sees the long-awaited new toy when he unwraps the Christmas present.
"Hello!" the girl said hurriedly, "I'm Yasha, nice to meet you! I... I didn't want to fall asleep, but you arrived home later than I expected, ah, I don't mean to blame I'm so sorry I fell asleep, it's so rude to meet you for the first time, it really makes you laugh... "
She said a lot of words in one breath, her face was flushed, and she smiled shyly, as if she was sincerely sorry for falling asleep—not for prying open the door of 329's house. She stretched out her hand to 329, and 329 was stunned for a while before realizing that she was not asking for anything, but was trying to shake his hand.
329 stretched out his hand in bewilderment, Yasha took his hand, shook it up and down, and let go of it neatly. It was a courtesy handshake, not a trap or a rip off, and 329 couldn't remember the last time someone shook his hand. The little girl's hands were warm and soft, without callouses, crusts, or cracks. Of course, she didn't live in this area. 329 would not be surprised if the door suddenly opened and a group of heavily armed men rushed in and shouted at 329.
There was silence outside the door, it was getting late.
Asha was still talking, polite but incessant, as if agitated or nervous, her eyes sparkling. At other times, 329 might be happy to listen to her, but he hasn't slept much the past few days, he's tired and sleepy, and he just wants a quiet bed.
"Excuse me," he interrupted Yasha, "what can I do for you?"
Asha paused, the fading blush creeping up her cheeks again, and she looked mortified. "I'm sorry, I'm so excited!" she said, nodding her head apologetically. "It's really... alas, that's it, can you have sex with me?"
"... what?" 329 asked, suspecting that he had heard wrong.
"Can you have sex with me, please?" repeated the young alpha, smiling coyly and articulate.
2. Straight to the point for the first time
She seemed to be asking 329 to borrow a pen.
This is not a tone of making any unreasonable demands, there is no anxiety in it, at best there is embarrassment. Asha's questioning was polite, the kind of politeness of a respectable person that any low-class person should be aware of: these people are polite because they're educated, not because they think the person they're talking to is worthy.
329 is very self-aware, even if he didn't in the past, the past year is enough for him to learn to be good.
I don't want to have sex with anyone, he wants to say, get the hell out of my house, let me sleep for a few hours before the next job starts - but there's no point in saying that. The exiles could of course report the crime, telling the inspectors that they had been robbed, stolen, beaten, raped, and this would lead to nothing but a waste of time. If the Overseers are in a good mood, they will prevaricate with some official rhetoric, and if they come across those who particularly hate the new banishment laws (“These social scums deserve to die outside!”), things will go awry.