Matched to a Violent Alpha as an Omega
Matched to a Violent Alpha as an Omega Chapter 83

Chapter 83: Ye Wen’s Death

The five senses refer to sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch. A solitary confinement chamber in “Five-Sense Deprivation Mode” blocks all of them, plunging a person into endless isolation, unaware of light or sound, trapped in eternal silence.

After being placed in the confinement chamber, Ye Wen lost all sensory perception. Even with eyes wide open, there was no light.

“Xu Lihan…” Suspended in a void with his body restrained and unable to move, the only thing Ye Wen could do was repeatedly murmur Xu Lihan’s name.

“Xu Lihan…” Closing his eyes, Ye Wen recalled the clumsy awkwardness during the first time Xu Lihan marked him, remembered the seriousness in his voice when he promised a future, remembered the gentleness in his hands as he adjusted Ye Wen’s collar.

“Xu Lihan…” He whispered while tears streamed down — he would never have his love again.

After an unknown period of time, a blinding light shone on Ye Wen, shocking him out of the hallucinations.

He had been “rescued.”

Ye Wen silently accepted the Federation’s treatment, silently watched people in Federation uniforms walking under the Imperial military emblem in the starship’s central hall. Yet in his mind, he saw Xu Lihan saluting beneath that very same emblem…

He saw the Imperial flag trampled beneath the command room floor — and remembered how Xu Lihan once kissed it with reverence…

He saw scattered documents on the ground — and remembered their cheerful celebration after working late…

He saw the withered plants overturned — and remembered Xu Lihan watering them just days ago…

He saw the piled-up corpses in the corner — and remembered how those people once greeted him with a smile, shyly asking how Xu Lihan’s mood was…

In that moment, Ye Wen once again understood with painful clarity — he was not one of the Empire. He never was. He never would be.

Surrounded by the stench of blood and the laughter of the Federation, Ye Wen’s eyes were hollow. He raised a hand to his chest in confusion. He had returned to his “homeland.” His heart was still beating. So why did he feel only cold?

“…What a pity. Xu Lihan ended up self-destructing. If we’d caught him alive, we could’ve forced the Empire to pay a hefty price,” someone from the Federation commented.

“Forget it. You know what the Empire’s like. Even if we’d caught Xu Lihan, all we’d get is a message that he’s been disowned. That’s the Empire for you.”

“But wasn’t Xu Lihan their most outstanding young officer? Tsk. The youngest admiral, beloved by the people. Wouldn’t the Empire care about public opinion?”

“Remember Xi Ming? He was even more talented than Xu Lihan. After getting promoted to lieutenant general, he was doing great. What happened to him? Framed by the Imperial royal family, exposed to cosmic radiation, left crippled and mentally unstable. Labeled a traitor and imprisoned on the capital star. If he hadn’t gotten lucky and met a special ability user, he’d already be dead. The Empire — pfft — that decaying country should’ve collapsed ages ago. If Xu Lihan had been captured alive, I bet they’d accuse him of treason too.”

“With how the Empire works, you’re probably right. Unless you’re a top noble, you’re expendable. Speaking of Xi Ming, he’s been a real thorn in our side lately. No idea when we’ll finally deal with him.”

“Hah. Once we wipe out the Empire, he won’t last long. Federation firepower will soon rule the stars.”

Mocking the Empire was always a favorite pastime for the Federation. Soon, from eavesdropping on their conversations, Ye Wen pieced together the news of Xu Lihan’s death in a self-detonation amid the stars.

Even though he had expected it, Ye Wen still felt suffocated, overwhelmed by grief. Like a bird forced underwater. Like a fish yanked violently from it. Losing Xu Lihan meant losing his very reason for living.

Everything around him felt foreign. Ye Wen instinctively stepped back, his nails digging into his palms — he didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong here!

Taking advantage of alphas’ tendency to underestimate omegas, Ye Wen quietly discovered Xu Lihan’s last known location and managed to obtain control of a small scout starship.

That night, ignoring everything else, he left the Federation fleet…

The Federation was still immersed in its supposed great victory, unaware that while they hunted the mantis, the oriole had already arrived. The Stellar Fleet had silently cut off the Federation’s path of retreat.

A barrage of fire, rippling space energy, smooth and dazzling starship maneuvers, silent screams, mangled limbs, blood — a brilliant battle erupted at the height of the Federation’s arrogance, shattering their pride.

“Xi Ming…!” someone screamed with their dying breath, shouting the name of the man who once haunted the Federation like a nightmare.

After nine years of silence — Xi Ming made a thunderous return.

Seeing the carnage before them, the star pirates behind Xi Ming once again felt the weight of his strength. For the new generation, it was their first time witnessing the legend that caused star pirates to flee at the mere mention of his name — the man from a past era passed down in hushed tales.

“Clean up the battlefield,” Xi Ming said calmly, unaffected by the victory, issuing orders for the next steps.

The only regret he had was leaving Shi Chan behind on a support ship to avoid battlefield distractions — the omega didn’t get to witness this triumph firsthand.

But thinking of their six-month promise, Xi Ming looked into the starlit void, ambition and fire reigniting in his gaze.

Meanwhile, the Radiant Squad, just off the battlefield, was equally high-spirited. “Radiant Squad” was a name they gave themselves — every member once suffered from cosmic radiation exposure, having been cast aside, struggling in agony. It was the Stellar Fleet and Shi Chan who gave them a second chance — cured their radiation, and let them fly mechas into space once more.

While cleaning up the battlefield, the internal comms of the mecha squad remained open — and the fighters, still buzzing with adrenaline, chatted back and forth.

“Just fought the Imperial prince, now we’ve wiped out a Federation fleet — I don’t think even battling the Zerg was ever this thrilling.”

“Why’re you so hyped? Weren’t you part of the Federation before? How does it feel to fight your ‘old countrymen’?”

“I wanted to consider them countrymen. I fought for the Federation all my life. But when I got injured on the front lines and exposed to radiation, I thought at least I’d get some compensation and rest. Guess what? They faked my death and threw me into a lab. That’s how I got repaid. Heh.”

“Isn’t the Federation all about glorifying war? So why force people into experiments? Shouldn’t they have plenty of volunteers?”

“I heard the Empire’s so feudal that omegas can’t even leave their houses. But coming here, I realized that’s just propaganda. The Federation talks big online about war glory, but in real life, no one wants to volunteer for their experiments — not even under the pretense of fighting the Empire.”

“Speaking of hitting your own people—what did it feel like for you Empire folks when you beat up the Sixth Imperial Prince?”

Feelings? I had no time for feelings—my eyes were glued to Wu Lidu’s gear. That stuff was dripping with value. Damn, I hope he comes back to ‘donate’ another batch.”

“Keep dreaming. Wu Lidu might be dumb, but Empress Lan isn’t. She locked him up ages ago and hasn’t let anyone see him. Who knows what she’s plotting now. Honestly, the emperor’s presence is pretty nonexistent. All I ever see on the Empire’s Net is stuff about Empress Lan and Wu Lidu.”

“Heard he’s in poor health. But yeah, this emperor really is just… average. He only got the throne because his older brothers all killed each other. Ever since he took over, he’s hardly been involved in anything. For a while, the military was running the show—royalty barely had a say. It wasn’t until Lan Wantian became Empress that the royals got their power back.”

“…So no wonder Lan Wantian framed Xi Ming. Back then, he was the military’s clear successor—and he was so outstanding. If he’d kept rising, the royals would’ve had even less say.”

“Not just that. You know the Xi family on the capital star? The family head is Xi Ming’s uncle. They’ve been in cahoots with the royals for ages. When Xi Ming was injured, it was Xi Songkai—his uncle—who publicly confirmed the royal account and pinned the blame for Incident 823 on Xi Ming.”

“I remember hearing that the royals threatened Xi Ming—said if he didn’t confess, they’d go after his people.”

“Probably both were true. Anyway, that Xi Songkai is trash. Took advantage of Xi Ming’s military clout to grow his business, then stabbed him in the back.”

“But wasn’t Xi Ming’s omega match arranged by Xi Songkai?”

“Oh, well—that might’ve been the only decent thing he ever did.”

“Now I’m just grateful Xi Ming met Healer Shi. Otherwise I’d already be six feet under.”

As this sentence landed, the comms channel fell silent. After a moment, another voice spoke.

“Yeah… thank god they found each other.”

“Hey! Cut the chatter—I’ve got a live one here. Unconscious.”

“Quick, tie ’em up—we might be able to ransom them.”

This scheme to take down Xu Lihan was a major conspiracy. Whether they captured or killed him, it would mean immense military credit. The people sent for this “free merit” weren’t nobodies—they were backed by major Federal powers.

But now, most of them were dead, and the few survivors had been captured and locked inside a stellar warship.

Moments ago, they were still hoping to trade Xu Lihan for rewards. Who would’ve thought that just hours later, they themselves would become bargaining chips.

“Boss, one Federation rat got away before we attacked. He took a scout ship and left toward the deeper Tani region,” someone reported to Xi Ming. “We’ve confirmed his identity—Xu Lihan’s spouse, Ye Wen. He served as Xu Lihan’s personal assistant.”

But the gleam in his eyes clearly hinted there was more to the story.

Xi Ming stayed calm, but the others weren’t as composed. They immediately demanded details.

“Wait—wasn’t the whole Federal force wiped out? How’s there still someone alive? And how the hell did he manage to sneak out in a ship right under our noses? Is he some covert elite? And what was Xu Lihan’s spouse doing on the battlefield anyway? A dual-A relationship?”

“You clearly don’t follow the StarNet.” Ever since the crew learned that their boss was Xi Ming, the savvier among them had read up on all things related to him—including his healer, Shi Chan, and the infamous tale of Shi’s former fiancé who bailed, resulting in Shi being matched with Xi Ming by the system.

And that unlucky ex who ditched the only radiation healer in the galaxy… yeah, they’d all looked him up.

Which led them right to Xu Lihan—and a flood of viral content telling a heart-wrenching story of a strong-willed omega who disguised himself as a beta to pursue his dream of joining the military, only to be marked by his commanding officer in a moment of desperate passion.

Uh… no matter how touching, it didn’t erase the fact that Xu Lihan had ghosted another omega.

Many present were aware of the tangled mess between Xu Lihan, Ye Wen, Xi Ming, and Shi Chan. But no one dared speak of Xu Lihan directly in front of Xi Ming. So they changed the topic.

“Ye Wen’s an omega, yeah. His love story with Xu Lihan went viral. Just search—you’ll find tons of articles and videos. He’s basically the poster child for ambitious omegas. Earned his military rank through merit, even outperformed some alphas.”

“I don’t give a damn about their love story. What I want to know is—why is he the only one left alive? Everyone else from the Empire is dead. Is he going to cause trouble for us now?”

The first speaker gave a strange smile and scoffed.

“Why did he survive? Not because he’s powerful—but because he’s a Federal agent.”

That shocked many.

“What?! A Federal agent?! But I thought Ye Wen was a lone survivor from a Federation massacre—an orphan!”

Xi Ming looked toward them, frowning. “…An omega spy.” That, he hadn’t expected.

In the previous life, the exposure of omega spies in the Federation began when Bai Wen, a supposedly weak omega on the capital star, was caught coordinating raids while pretending to be frail. The chaos forced the Empire to launch a full-scale investigation.

But in this life, because Xi Ming exposed Bai Wen early and tricked the old nobility into turning on him, Bai Wen’s role was never publicly revealed. Later, Bai Wen escaped with help from a suitor. It was too embarrassing to publicize, so although the Empire began purging spies, it was only at a limited scale.

Clearly, Ye Wen was one of those who slipped through—deep undercover, even becoming Xu Lihan’s lover.


Meanwhile, the very man they were discussing—Ye Wen—was piloting a scout ship with only half its energy reserves. Despite constant flashing red alerts warning him to return, he gritted his teeth and steered toward the place where Xu Lihan had perished.

In space, even alphas needed full protection. Let alone an omega.

Ye Wen’s skin was already breaking, blood seeping through in eerie clusters.

He ignored his body’s screams. Ignored the slow drain of life. Every thought was focused on one set of coordinates: the place where Xu Lihan had died. And where he… would die, too.

“Xu Lihan…” His voice cracked with grief, but he was the only one to hear it. In the vast universe, there was no one left to respond to that name.

“Xu Lihan…” Years of suppressed emotion burst out in sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Only now did he realize—without Xu Lihan, nothing mattered. Not his mission. Not his fears. Not even the Federation or his own life. Only Xu Lihan mattered.

“I’m sorry… I realized it too late…” All the rules drilled into him by the Federation crumbled. Ye Wen no longer cared about anything. He would go to Xu Lihan—to his hero, his redemption, the god who had made his soul whole.

As his ship closed in on the coordinates, Ye Wen’s bloody face twisted into a smile—eerie, sorrowful. His bloodshot eyes gleamed, his body screaming in warning, but he didn’t care. His god had fallen. How could a wretched believer like him be allowed to live?

He tried to call Xu Lihan’s name again, but instead coughed up a mouthful of blood and fragments.

But it didn’t matter. He was getting closer.

Closer…

He saw it…

Ye Wen’s face lit up in ecstasy. Despite being torn apart by high-speed travel, he smiled faintly.

He thought—he had finally rejoined his god.

They would drift together in the same starfield. Their ashes would intertwine. Maybe in billions of years, a new world would form, and they would become the same tree, the same flower—entangled forever.

As his eyes brightened and he neared his goal, the war-ravaged starfield finally destabilized. A spatial rift tore open in front of Ye Wen—dark, deep, voidlike.

“No!!!!” Ye Wen screamed, smashing the controls, eyes wide with desperation. Blood poured from his mouth. His vision was crimson. Yet he refused to blink—staring at the spot where Xu Lihan had detonated.

He just wanted—he just wanted to die with him! Despair drowned out his final outcry.

A phantom image of Xu Lihan’s solemn, handsome face floated in his mind. Ye Wen’s tear-filled eyes brimmed with longing. His trembling hands reached out, whispering words no one could hear:

“…Hold me… one more time…”

In his next life, Ye Wen wished to meet Xu Lihan again—as grass, as wind, as anything fleeting and clean. Just to meet him again—untainted.

Even in death, Ye Wen never dared to say that word—because he was filthy. He was a liar, a disgrace, a weapon forged for the Federation’s gain. A tool in human skin.

They taught him:
Love is a crisis hormone.
Love is the anomaly in calm.
Love is… trust and exploitation.
Love is interrogation and theft.
Love is how to destroy Empire alphas.
Love is the perfect natural weapon.

But Xu Lihan’s love was none of that.

His love was pure. Trusting. Protective. Caring. Gentle and surprising. A love that held Ye Wen’s hands with reverence.

Please… hold me again…

The starfield soon fell quiet. The rift swallowed everything.

Nearby, a blood-streaked piece of mech drifted silently—dim, cold, and forever alone.


Sia- Hi guys!!! I was busy with my exams, projects and job, so I started translating the novels after few month of gap. I had translated the Empress as an Male Omega, but thanks to Lulu I changed the Empress as a female omega.

P.S.- Support me guys, Buy me some ko-fi. >﹏<

Sia[Translator]

Hi, I'm Sia! Your go-to translator for thrilling tales, happy endings, and perpetual page-turning ^_^.

3 Comments
  1. Gasol916 has spoken 1 month ago

    Thank you for tge translation. Ill wait for the next chapters ❤️💜

    Reply
  2. Lulu has spoken 1 month ago

    As far as I remember, Lin Wantian was a woman in the earlier chapters.

    Reply
    • Sia has spoken 1 month ago

      I really appreciate your help. I have changed it to the female omega. Please let me know if something else needed to be changed.

      Reply

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