CHAPTER 1: KARMA

KARMA...

I never used to believe in karma. I thought it was just a belief people used to control your choices. Because of that, karma was never part of my rules, my choices, or my daily life. I didn’t care if I hurt other people or did bad things—the only thing that mattered to me was enjoying my life.

My family was rich. My mom was a recessive omega, but she passed away early. I was only two years old when she died of leukemia. My dad was a dominant alpha. He owned different luxury hotels in the Philippines. That’s why I grew up living a rich life—with house helpers, delicious food, expensive things, and studying in expensive schools.

Every time I visited my dad's office, I saw how much people respected him. I realized that I wanted to be like him. I wanted to be a dominant alpha and run a business while people looked up to me.

When I became a teenager, I picked up my dad’s attitude—brave, proud, and hot-headed. I never let my classmates or other students push me around; I preferred to be the one pushing them around. I became a notorious bully at my school, and I had a lot of followers. My life was fun. I did whatever I wanted, and I got whatever I wanted.

When I got to high school, I realized that I didn't just want to be a businessman, I also wanted to be a professional basketball player. I really loved playing basketball, and I joined the school team. I was one of the starting players, of course, because I was good. Then I found out that if you want to be a varsity player in college, you need to be an alpha.

That made me want to be an alpha even more. Other people said I would probably become an alpha because of my body build and my personality.

For a high school student, I was taller than most of my male classmates. I had a fit body and visible abs. That was why I was confident that I would become an alpha, just like my dad.

During high school, I slowly started to see my dad change. He began drinking heavily, gambling, and his worst habit was drugs. Yes, I learned he was taking drugs because I saw it with my own eyes. In our mansion, I caught him using drugs with women. They were kissing and having sex right in the living room, not caring if someone saw them.

And that someone was me.

I ignored it. I didn’t care about my dad’s bad habits. Actually, as I grew older, I grew distant from him. Maybe because he was rarely at the mansion and we hardly talked. So I just stopped caring about him completely.

I had no idea that his business was failing because of his addiction and gambling. He became full of debt until he had to sell our mansion. One night I went to sleep in a huge mansion, but the next morning I woke up in a tiny apartment.

That was how fast karma hit me.

Then, all of a sudden, I heard the news: my dad was gone. He was dead. He was killed by the loan sharks he owed money to. I was left all alone—no inheritance, no property, no money...

That was how cruel karma was.

My aunt took me in, but not to help me study—she made me work instead. I finished high school, but I couldn't go to college because I had no money and my aunt wouldn't pay for my education.

Karma really ruined my life. But if there was anything worse than that, it was when I found out my secondary gender.

Gender: Male

Secondary Gender: Omega

When I found out that my secondary gender was an Omega, I nearly lost my mind. Why did I have to be an Omega, the designation considered weaker and less valuable than all the rest? The moment I read the examination results, I tore them to pieces out of sheer frustration.

My dream of becoming a businessman was gone. Now, my dream of becoming a professional basketball player was gone, too?

What a fucking joke.

​They say when karma strikes your life, you're supposed to take the hint, accept the lesson, and turn over a new leaf.

​Fuck that. Fuck karma. And fuck the leaf.

​I am not changing myself for some cosmic lesson. I've already lost everything—you think I'm going to hand over my pride, too?

Fuck that.

Every time I remember all the shit that's happened in my life, I can't control the emotions that surge up inside me.

I didn’t even realize I was kicking the trash can in front of Aling Jeje’s small store. I wouldn't have stopped if the shopkeeper hadn't shouted at me.

"Hey Neo! What are you doing again? Stop that!" scolded Bebe, the shopkeeper at Aling Jeje’s store. "Customers will think there’s a crazy person here."

The corner of my lips turned up as I looked at her. "Sorry, Bebe. This trash can just looks ugly, so it made me mad."

She shook her head and gave me a soft smile. "It’s a waste. You’re handsome, Neo, but you have major anger issues."

"At least I’m handsome, right?" I replied with a wink.

She just rolled her eyes.

I laughed softly at her reaction. "You’re really cute, Bebe."

When she didn't reply, I took a cigarette out of my pants pocket and grabbed the lighter hanging in front of the store. I lit the cigarette, took a puff, and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air.

I sat down on a stool in front of the store. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time.

10:00 AM.

I still had to go to the delivery hub to pick up packages and deliver them to customers. Later this afternoon, I had to pick up kids from school. And tonight, I would work as a parking escort at Jojo Club.

I had so many jobs, yet I had no money. How did that happen? That was something I didn't know.

"Uncle!"

I looked up as a young boy called out to me. He came running toward the store.

I pulled the cigarette from my mouth, threw it on the concrete floor, and stepped on it. "What are you doing here? Don't you have school?" I asked, glancing behind him to see if his mom was around.

He quickly ran to me and hugged my waist. Then, he suddenly started crying hard.

My jaw tightened. "Damn it! What happened to you?"

His shoulders shook. "Uncle, my classmate tripped me, so I fell on the cafeteria floor," he said with a shaky voice.

Was he being bullied?

I held his shoulders and lifted his head to look at me. "Trip him back, or hit him. Get revenge," I suggested seriously.

His forehead wrinkled. His eyes were red, but he stopped crying. "Isn't that bad, Uncle?" he asked, confused. "That's what Mom told me—she said not to hit my classmates."

I shook my head firmly. "Sometimes you have to hit back. Because if you don't, they will just keep doing it to you." I held his shoulders tighter. "Do you understand me?"

He nodded, but he still looked nervous. "The thing is, Uncle... I don't know how to punch."

"That's no problem. I'll teach you how to punch. A punch that will knock them out."

The kid’s eyes brightened when I said that.

I let go of him and stood up to show him how to throw a proper punch.

I clenched both of my fists and threw fast, hard punches into the air one after another. The kid blinked as he watched me.

I stopped punching. "Did you get it?"

He scratched his head. "Not really."

"Try it."

He copied what I did, but his punches didn't have any power.

I shook my head. "Put more power into it, boy!"

He tried again. I smiled when I saw how serious he was.

"Not enough! Harder! Imagine the kid who tripped you is standing right in front of you."

I saw him grit his teeth. I clapped my hands.

"Yeah, like that! Harder—OUCH!"

I rubbed the back of my neck in pain. I turned around angrily to see who slapped me. Standing there was a woman glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest.

It was Liz. She was the daughter of the landlord of my apartment. I met her at the bar where I used to work, and she was the one who recommended their apartment to me. And this little boy was her son.

I just smiled at her. "It's his first day of training."

She raised an eyebrow and pushed me away from her son. "You jerk, stop teaching my son bad things! Get out of here!"

I just gave her a smirk and waved goodbye to Tobi. "Tobi, remember what I told you, okay? Do it."

He nodded. "Yes, Uncle."

I turned around and quickly got onto my motorcycle. I put on my helmet and started the engine. Before leaving, I took one last look at the mother and son. Liz was scolding her son, while Tobi just kept his head down, listening to his mother.

My phone chimed with a notification from my boss. He wanted me to pick up the orders at the hub, so I quickly sped off on my motorcycle.

I sighed as the familiar thought crossed my mind. I’m definitely going to be busy again today.

The streets blurred past me as I drove, but my mind was already running through everything I had to do. Work, deliveries, errands—it seemed like there was always something waiting for me. At least staying busy kept my mind occupied. It was easier that way.

Because whenever I had too much time to think, my thoughts always returned to the one thing I had spent years trying to hide.

In this world, people are divided into three secondary genders. Alphas hold the highest status, gifted with natural strength and powerful suppressing pheromones. Betas make up most of the population. They have no pheromones and remain unaffected by Heats or Ruts. Then there are Omegas, the group society considers physically weakest, the ones who are often looked down upon and discriminated against.

But in the society I live in, I chose to live as a Beta, even though I manifested as an Omega.

Why? Because I refuse to be one. I’m already struggling to make ends meet. Life is hard enough as it is, and now I’m supposed to let being an Omega make it even harder? No way.

I know how people treat Omegas. The moment they find out what you are, they start looking at you differently—as if your secondary gender is all that defines you, especially when you're poor.

So I learned how to act like a Beta, how to keep my secret buried so deeply that no one would ever think to question it and I will do whatever it takes to keep it that way. Even if I have to stake every last piece of my dignity, they will never find out what I truly am.