As If Transmigrating Wasn’t Enough, I’m Pregnant?!

At first, he was both baffled and angry. Omegas certainly hadn’t chosen to be born that way, so why were they being so openly ostracized? Moon Seong-yoon, who had barely ever experienced a life of overt discrimination as a man, was now beginning to face the injustices of the world in the body of a recessive Omega.

What kind of messed-up world is this, where something so utterly absurd can happen…?

He could instinctively tell. This was only the beginning. He had no idea how many more unfair situations he would have to endure, or how much worse they would become.

It wasn’t simply because Ryu Hae-sol was a character meant to suffer as a bottom. It was because these were the cruel laws governing this world.

Resting his head against the cold window, he squeezed his eyes shut. As the bus rattled along, he was coming face-to-face with the miserable reality of being an Omega. Even with his eyes closed, he could still feel the sting of the people’s stares. He desperately wanted to get away as soon as possible.

“Damn it. What the hell is this?”

His low mutter was swallowed by the noise of the bus, unheard by anyone. Unconsciously, Ryu Hae-sol clenched the crumpled wad of cash in his pocket.

He had to break free from the chains of this unjust world—and from the even more merciless chains of poverty.

If the novel’s plot was anything to go by, even more horrific things lay ahead for Ryu Hae-sol. But he was no longer the pathetic, weak-willed Ryu Hae-sol who would meekly let fate drag him along. He was Moon Seong-yoon, a man with the grit to find a way to survive, no matter what, and escape this godforsaken world.

The bus sped past the cityscape, leaving behind the forest of gleaming skyscrapers as it gradually entered an older, shabbier neighborhood. The grayer the scenery outside the window became, the more firmly his resolve hardened inside him, like concrete.

After what felt like an endless journey, the rattling bus finally came to a stop. It was an old bus stop perched at the top of a steep slope, with a weathered signboard whose peeling paint seemed barely able to hold it together.

The moment the bus doors opened, air utterly unlike that of the city center flooded into his lungs.

The musty smell of dust mingled with the sour stench of rotting food waste and the damp, moldy odor drifting from somewhere nearby. Ryu Hae-sol instinctively held his breath as he stepped off the bus.

Though it looked as if he had reached the summit, the spot where he set foot was actually the beginning of yet another steep hill.

He looked around, and his breath caught in his throat. Gray concrete buildings stood precariously close together, as though leaning on one another for support, while a tangled web of electrical wires slashed chaotically across the sky.

It was as if even the sunlight avoided this neighborhood; everything looked damp and shrouded in shadow. This was the hillside slum—the other name for the hell Ryu Hae-sol had lived in within the novel.

He took out his phone again to check the map. The blue dot on the screen clearly indicated his location, but the scene before him was a labyrinth that no neat lines or symbols on a map could possibly capture.

Similar-looking alleyways, dead ends, and steep staircases stretched on without end. Heaving a sigh, he began climbing the hill.

With every step, the exhaustion that had been building since the previous night seemed to drag at his ankles. The surroundings were quiet, almost like an ASMR track playing in the background, yet small sounds continued without end.

Every so often, the sound of a television drifted out from inside a house, or the faint laughter of children floated over from the far end of an alley. Those traces were the only proof that anyone lived in this shabby neighborhood.

Here, the mixed scent of pheromones wafting from his body was no longer an issue. People seemed either indifferent to his presence or simply too exhausted by the daily grind to spare any thought for someone else. It was a settlement of extras whose lives had been copied straight from Ryu Hae-sol’s own.

After wandering around for another ten minutes or so, he finally stopped in front of an old villa bearing a familiar name. The name “Blooming” seemed almost laughable, given how the building’s exterior walls were stained black in places and its paint had peeled away in ugly patches.

He hesitated in front of it for a moment. The instant he opened that door and stepped inside, he would become completely immersed in Ryu Hae-sol’s life.

It felt like crossing a river from which there was no return. But it wasn’t as though he had any way to avoid it, either. This was the only option he had been given.