Becoming the Yandere Omega's Fluffy Pet - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Liu Ran Suits Her Taste Perfectly, Serving As…

The car pulled into the underground garage. After opening the door, the driver looked at the leather lead on Liu Ran’s collar but didn’t dare touch it.

She spoke to Liu Ran cautiously: “Miss Furry, please follow me up yourself.”

Liu Ran wanted to say her surname was Liu. However, she was currently wearing a bite guard buckled so tight that the hard horizontal bar wedged between her teeth forced her into silence. Having gone without water for a long time, her throat burned with a searing pain.

It was obvious that Director Ming’s driver was afraid of her afraid she might run away, necessitating constant surveillance, yet also afraid that physically leading her would be an offense that might displease both Liu Ran and Director Ming.

The driver’s tone held a hint of pleading: “Miss Furry…”

Liu Ran stepped out of the car and gestured for the driver to lead the way. The driver was just an ordinary worker; there was no need to make things difficult. Besides, the effects of the muscle relaxants hadn’t worn off yet. She had no choice but to follow Director Ming’s orders.

The place where she had been slapped stung fiercely. In truth, that slap hadn’t carried much force; it wasn’t so much a punishment as a symbolic warning—much like the collar around her neck, the psychological humiliation outweighed the physical injury.

She followed the driver into a private elevator. There were no floor numbers; the elevator ascended automatically once the doors closed. A woman with a clean face and simple clothing opened the door for them. The moment she saw Liu Ran, shock and astonishment flashed in her eyes.

The woman appeared to be in her early thirties with neat short hair. The driver called her “Sister Qi Zhen,” presumably the “Xiao Qi” Ming Siyu had mentioned.

After a few brief words at the door, the driver left. Qi Zhen ushered Liu Ran inside, looking awkward and helpless. “Er, I am the eldest Miss Ming’s servant, Qi Zhen. Please wait here a moment while I draw your bathwater.”

Liu Ran stood by the door and observed Ming Siyu’s residence. It was a duplex of about seven hundred square meters with a sunken living room and an extravagantly large crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The doors along the hallway were all tightly shut. The decor was primarily black, white, and gray—neat to the point of obsession. Sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, making the place bright, yet it lacked any sense of human warmth.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, not a single tree was visible, and no city noise could be heard. Liu Ran guessed it was a high-rise.

Once the water was ready, Qi Zhen called Liu Ran to bathe. Liu Ran stripped off her tattered clothes and stepped into the tub. She felt the collar on her neck move and turned to find Qi Zhen tying the leather lead to the handrail.

Qi Zhen nodded to her. “Forgive me. The Eldest Miss told me to—” she paused, avoiding the dignity-stripping word tether, “—to put your collar and lead in order.”

There were likely disinfectants in the water; her wounds felt as if ants were crawling over them. Liu Ran washed away the filth, and Qi Zhen changed the water three more times. Seeing that she had no intent to attack, Qi Zhen eventually grew bold enough to approach, intending to help her wash her tail and ears.

As soon as she touched the wet fur, the large tail immediately tucked away. Liu Ran pulled her tail into her arms and flattened her ears back in an obvious gesture of resistance.

The tail and ears were sensitive parts used by the wolf tribe to communicate emotion—traits passed to Liu Ran through gene splicing. They were both specialized organs and the marks that made her different from others; they could not be touched casually. Qi Zhen didn’t understand this, assuming Liu Ran simply didn’t want anyone near her, and sheepishly withdrew her hand.

After the bath, Qi Zhen suggested using a hairdryer, but Liu Ran refused. Qi Zhen threw her old clothes directly into the trash and brought her a new camisole nightgown.

It wasn’t Liu Ran’s size. Fortunately, the nightgown was loose enough to fit, but it was tight in the wrong places and far too short, barely covering her backside. Her entire tail was exposed.

What made Liu Ran even more uncomfortable was that Qi Zhen had not provided any underwear. She had to keep tugging the nightgown down to reduce her sense of insecurity.

Qi Zhen explained that her arrival was too sudden to prepare clothes in her size. She could borrow a nightgown, but underwear wouldn’t fit if the size was wrong, and there were no pairs in the house with a hole for a tail. She would have to endure being naked underneath until the Eldest Miss returned.

Liu Ran bit her lip, trying not to let her humiliation show. She told herself that this life without dignity had begun four years ago, the moment she signed the “Voluntary Gene Fusion Modification Form” at fifteen. It would likely continue forever; if she couldn’t change it, she at least had to learn to habituate herself to it. Why agonize over a piece of clothing?

Qi Zhen urged her out of the bathroom. Passing the mirror, Liu Ran still did not have the courage to look. Ever since she grew the tail and wolf ears, she almost never looked at her reflection. To others, those organs might seem soft or cute, but to Liu Ran, they were the source of her shame. She could not ignore them: if she didn’t lift her tail while walking, the fur would brush against her legs; at the slightest sound, those thick, pointed ears would twitch instinctively; and when she was depressed, they would be the first to droop.

They were constant reminders that she was a bred freak, destined to be stared at by all kinds of eyes: mocking, excited, or sadistic. Under such gazes, she could never truly feel “clothed.”

Dignity is not found in clothes. Yet, having no clothes makes one feel stripped of dignity.

Just like now. No matter how she comforted herself, Liu Ran could not accept the fact that she was completely naked under the nightgown. She moved forward only in tiny, hesitant steps.

Qi Zhen had originally thought to tether her to a pillar in the living room, but the lead wasn’t long enough. Instead, she took her to the second floor and tied the end of the lead to the handle of a closed door.

“Wait for the Eldest Miss here. Oh, you don’t know her name, do you? It’s Ming Siyu—Si as in refined, Yu as in to give. Never call her by her full name; she doesn’t like it. Remember to call her Director Ming.”

With that, Qi Zhen hurried downstairs.

It was August, and the air conditioning was blasting. After sitting on the marble floor for a while, Liu Ran felt the chill. Since her tail was mostly dry, she tucked it under her for padding and held the rest of it in her arms like a bolster, drawing warmth from it.

The source of her shame had become her only reliance. Exhausted and drowsy, she leaned against the door and fell asleep while clutching her tail.

Ming Siyu did not return until nightfall.

The lights of the entire house flared to life. The sharp clack-clack of high heels sounded twice—like they were stepping right on Liu Ran’s tail and she jolted awake. Her sleepiness vanished, replaced by a cold shiver.

Her “Master” was back.

She heard Qi Zhen run to the door to greet her, and heard Ming Siyu ask where Liu Ran was. The footsteps soon approached the stairs. Every nerve in Liu Ran’s body went taut.

First came the sound of steps, then the scent of perfume like a forest after a blizzard. After this calculated prelude, Ming Siyu’s silhouette appeared leisurely at the top of the stairs.

She was barefoot. Even after a full day, Ming Siyu’s hair remained perfectly neat, pinned steadily behind her head. The top button of her shirt was undone, revealing a patch of snow-white skin and a tiny mole resting on her collarbone, half-hidden by the lapel.

Ming Siyu walked with a perfectly straight back, her chin slightly raised, her gaze looking down as if everything were beneath her concern. She walked straight up to Liu Ran. Since Liu Ran was sitting on the floor, she was forced to look up.

After a few seconds of silent staring, Liu Ran suddenly realized—just because Ming Siyu was standing, did she have to look up for this completely unequal eye contact? Who said she had to look at Ming Siyu at all?

She refused. She lowered her head.

The moment she looked down, another thought hit her: Would Ming Siyu think she was too guilty or cowardly to meet her gaze? That she was afraid?

She wasn’t afraid. So, she firmly raised her head again, looking straight into Ming Siyu’s eyes without yielding an inch.

She couldn’t quite see into them; they were blocked by the glasses.

Ming Siyu watched her look up and down. Those two silver-gray furry ears bounced up and down like little pom-poms; the inner ears were a pale pink, with a tuft of light fuzz poking out cutely.

A weak current of electricity seemed to flicker through Ming Siyu’s palms.

She knew her condition was flaring up. Five years ago, she had discovered that her palms often became itchy and painful, a sensation only relieved by touching plush toys or small animals. Doctors diagnosed her with Skin Hunger (Soft-touch variant) a psychological disorder. It cannot be cured; she can only find something furry to touch as soon as a flare-up begins.

Ming Siyu was allergic to cat and dog dander, and lifeless plush toys were poorly effective. She had struggled for years until a recent party where she met a girl spliced with leopard cat genes. She had touched the girl’s tail and found it highly effective; perhaps because the fur grew on a person, it didn’t trigger her allergies.

On a friend’s recommendation, Ming Siyu decided to buy one.

Liu Ran happened to suit her taste perfectly and could serve as her medicine.

Her palms grew itchy and numb. The discomfort quickly spread to her wrists, forearms, shoulders, and her entire body. Every cell seemed to start screaming at once. A strange restlessness seeped out from the surface of her skin, and an indescribable emptiness swept over her.

She needed to touch, stroke, and knead. Something with body heat, something fine, soft, and fluffy. Everything. It was an urgent craving.

Her pupils dilated. Her fingertips unconsciously mimicked a stroking motion. The itch in her palms was replaced by a slight stinging. Ming Siyu’s breathing grew heavy, and she swallowed instinctively.

She reached out, curling her fingertips, lured into touching the top of Liu Ran’s head.

The moment she was about to touch the wolf ears, those thick, dense ears pinned back, dodging her fingertips.

Liu Ran covered her ears with her hands and reflexively tried to stand up, but because she had been kneeling on the floor for too long, her legs were numb. She got halfway up before stumbling back into a crouch.

Ming Siyu bent her knees, crouching down on one leg to bring their eyes to the same level.

In the next instant, Liu Ran felt her neck tighten.

Ming Siyu hooked her finger into the collar and yanked it hard. Liu Ran lost her balance, shifting from a crouch to a kneel, her knees pressing heavily onto the top of Ming Siyu’s foot.

The impact was not light. Although Liu Ran’s pain receptors had diminished after the Arctic wolf gene fusion, making her more resilient, her knees still throbbed. If she felt pain, Ming Siyu surely felt more.

Immediately, her throat was gripped. The back of her head hit the door panel, her breath was cut off, and her body was tilted back, pinned against the door frame. As the nightgown hem shifted and a wave of cold air rolled over her, Liu Ran’s body went completely rigid.

Ming Siyu’s thin lips parted, and she gritted out the name in a dark, low voice: “Liu, Ran.”

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