Zhen Ning opened his eyes.
The sharp scent of disinfectant filled his nostrils, and the glare of the fluorescent lights stung his eyes. His body tensed up instantly.
In that moment, he realized he had differentiated.
The glandular structures of alphas and omegas were fundamentally different. Basic biological knowledge told Zhen Ning that a newly differentiated alpha’s glands shouldn’t burn like this.
He raised a trembling hand to touch the back of his neck.
But the next second, the door to the hospital room swung open from the outside.
Standing there was Xiong Hao, dressed in a suit, his hair meticulously slicked back. He was on the phone, speaking impatiently. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
Then he turned and saw Zhen Ning sitting up in bed. His brows lifted in apparent surprise.
“Xiao Ning, you’re awake,” he said.
He addressed him with familiarity, but in reality, they had barely exchanged a few words before. Their relationship was nowhere near that level of closeness.
“You passed out in the hallway at the base. I was the one who found you.”
Xiong Hao hesitated briefly, then sighed and confirmed what Zhen Ning had already suspected. “The thing is, you’ve differentiated… into an omega.”
Zhen Ning felt his heart sink.
He forced himself to stay calm. “…Is there a diagnostic report?”
In truth, his body had already given him the answer.
Even though Xiong Hao stood at a distance, the suppressive aura of the middle-aged alpha made Zhen Ning’s entire body tense. A physiological resistance and fear. He had felt this before.
Now, he could perceive the presence of pheromones.
His body was hypersensitive. His nape and head ached, his blood felt like it was boiling, and his mind was blank, but he knew he needed to compose himself.
Xiong Hao studied Zhen Ning’s face thoughtfully.
A newly differentiated, young, beautiful omega boy.
Yet, despite that, he carried a striking calmness, a composure far beyond his years. No wonder Joe kept mentioning him.
Either trait alone would have been a massive advantage in society. But the esports industry was different.
Regret flickered across Xiong Hao’s face, and his gaze shifted to one of pity, like he was looking at something that had lost its value.
“I know your body hasn’t fully adjusted yet, and there’s a lot for you to process,” Xiong Hao said. “But there are certain matters we need to discuss first.”
“You’ve differentiated as an omega.” His voice was gentle. “Your friends haven’t yet, and most of the players at the base are alphas, so it’s best for you to stay temporarily isolated here in the hospital.”
At first, Zhen Ning didn’t notice the subtle undertone in Xiong Hao’s words.
The burning pain in his nape persisted, interwoven with sharp, stabbing sensations.
In reality, most undifferentiated omegas underwent frequent hospital checkups around a certain age, and their expected differentiation dates were usually announced in advance. They would have family or loved ones by their side to prevent such a sudden and unexpected differentiation.
Zhen Ning’s mind was a mess.
He was only seventeen, and this was his first differentiation. Yet it had happened in such a shocking way. For the first seventeen years of his life, he had lived as though he were on the path of an alpha.
Fate had played an enormous joke on him. But at that moment, the only person occupying his thoughts was Yan Chengfeng.
“…Alright,” Zhen Ning said in a hoarse voice. “Where is my phone?”
Seeing that Zhen Ning had agreed to stay isolated in the hospital, Xiong Hao’s expression turned satisfied.
But he didn’t hand over Zhen Ning’s phone.
“Joe mentioned that you’re very close to that trainee named Yan,” Xiong Hao said, studying Zhen Ning with a contemplative gaze. “Are you planning to contact him?”
The way he phrased the question felt more like an interrogation, making Zhen Ning inexplicably uneasy and disgusted.
Zhen Ning didn’t answer. Instead, he repeated, “Where is my phone?”
“If I’m not mistaken, wasn’t there supposed to be a match tomorrow between you and DXG’s second team? Assuming this incident hadn’t occurred?”
Xiong Hao smiled faintly. “If I were you, I wouldn’t choose to tell my best friend something like this at such a critical time.”
Zhen Ning’s heart sank sharply.
Tomorrow was Yan Chengfeng’s first match. He had been looking forward to it for so long, practicing late into the night every day out of sheer nervousness.
Xiong Hao observed the change in Zhen Ning’s expression and softly called his name. “Xiao Ning.”
“You’re very smart,” he said. “I was deeply impressed by you from the moment we first met.”
Zhen Ning: “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“Then I won’t beat around the bush.” Xiong Hao sighed. “I think you must have realized it the moment you woke up.”
“—You’ll never be able to compete for us,” he said. “You understand that, don’t you?”
Xiong Hao’s tone was casual, his expression indifferent. He even used the term “for us,” as if, in that moment, Zhen Ning was no longer part of KYM in his eyes.
Zhen Ning struggled to maintain his composure. “Why?”
Xiong Hao had naturally anticipated this question.
“We’ve invested significant resources in trainees like you. KYM is one of the top clubs in the country.”
Sitting on a chair by the hospital bed, Xiong Hao crossed his legs. “But the margin for error on the field has always been zero. A club of our caliber simply can’t afford to let an omega compete in a match at this point… You understand, don’t you?”
When he said the word “omega,” his tone lifted slightly, as if the very idea of an omega appearing in the competitive scene was something novel and absurd.
Zhen Ning gritted his teeth, enduring the burning pain at the back of his neck. “Why can’t omegas compete?”
“Why?”
Xiong Hao couldn’t suppress a laugh. “There are too many reasons to count. But if you’re not feeling too offended right now, I can certainly explain a few.”
Before Zhen Ning could respond, Xiong Hao continued.
“First of all, no domestic team has ever had an omega compete,” he said. “It’s true that there’s no rule explicitly forbidding omegas from playing, but this is… one of those unspoken rules. And KYM certainly won’t be the first to break it.”
“Esports demands precision and limitless energy. And what does being an omega entail?” he drawled. “Loss of control during heat, dependence on suppressants, indecisiveness in personality, and the potential effects on alpha teammates.”
“The risks are too great. Can you imagine the backlash and scrutiny the team and the entire club would have to deal with?” he asked.
The pain at the back of Zhen Ning’s neck was becoming unbearable. His voice trembled as he said, “But the North American teams…”
“DSN’s Kong Xian? That sharp-tongued, eccentric omega? He’s a one-in-a-million exception.”
Xiong Hao let out a sneer, showing no mercy. “American teams have resources and reputations leagues ahead of domestic teams. They can afford to take risks. We don’t have the strength or resources to follow suit.”
“Omegas come with too many uncertainties.”
He continued, “You’ve experienced the pain of differentiation. Soon, you’ll face more frequent heats. When that happens, you’ll understand that leaving the competitive scene might not be… the worst thing for you.”
An alpha, casually talking about an omega’s heat with zero respect—and to top it off, he concluded with “It’s for your own good.”
“And especially for such a critical role as the AD position,” Xiong Hao added, “we can’t take that kind of risk.”
His patience was wearing thin.
At this moment, Xiong Hao made no attempt to hide his deep-seated prejudice, revealing his true face.
“Of course, I’m not forcing you out,” he said, his tone slowing slightly. “You’re welcome to stay, but given the current circumstances, I can make my decision very clear.”
“You won’t be playing again, Xiao Ning,” he said.
“I have several ways to help you leave gracefully,” he continued. “I’ll ensure your differentiated status remains hidden. Everyone will still believe you’re an undifferentiated alpha. You can say you’re leaving to pursue academics. To your friends, it’ll look like you’ve made the same choice as others who’ve left…”
“If a trainee loses their rightful opportunities not due to poor performance but because of their differentiated status,” Zhen Ning interrupted quietly, “and such a thing were revealed to the media, are you certain the team’s value and public opinion would remain unaffected?”
The smile in Xiong Hao’s eyes finally faded.
He excelled at managing players, treating them like commodities. Once their “value” fell short of expectations, there was no point in wasting resources on them.
He had discarded underperforming or disobedient alphas without hesitation. What chance did an omega have?
A newly differentiated omega youth, by all accounts, should have been in a fragile mental and emotional state.
But Xiong Hao hadn’t expected the young man in front of him to not only confront him so clearly but to hold his ground.
“Your idea is good, but you’re too naive,” Xiong Hao said. “We’ve maintained good relationships with most of the media behind the scenes. In the end, the audience only sees what we want them to see.”
“Is that so?” Zhen Ning asked calmly. “Then what about KYM’s rival team? Do you think the media they’re working with would be interested in something like this?”
Xiong Hao’s expression finally changed.
He heard Zhen Ning say, “I won’t leave.”
“You can keep me off the stage, you can come up with any reason to suppress me, but I can also make things ugly,” Zhen Ning said. “I will stay at KYM, even if I can’t play.”
“If I’m not good enough to play, then I’ll accept it,” he said. “But if it’s just because I’ve differentiated into an omega, then that’s impossible.”
Xiong Hao’s face darkened. “You—”
Zhen Ning: “Give me my phone back. Now.”
Before Xiong Hao could say anything, his own phone buzzed.
Zhen Ning saw him lower his head, glance at the message, and furrow his brow.
But then, a subtle smile suddenly appeared on Xiong Hao’s face.
He typed something in reply, and when he looked back up at Zhen Ning, his expression had relaxed considerably.
He now had the demeanor of a victor.
Zhen Ning didn’t understand what had happened. In fact, his head was starting to feel a bit dizzy. His conversation with Xiong Hao had left him drenched in cold sweat, and he was already pushing himself to his limits.
“Is that so?” Xiong Hao asked in return.
“Sometimes… it’s better not to speak too soon.”
Xiong Hao continued, “You’re still young. You need to think carefully—do the decisions you make really only affect yourself?”
Zhen Ning’s pupils contracted slightly.
But Xiong Hao said no more. He stood up and handed Zhen Ning’s phone back to him.
He said, “I’ll come to see you again.”
The moment Xiong Hao left the hospital room, Zhen Ning’s body collapsed.
He was too exhausted. A newly differentiated omega typically needed rest and comfort, yet he had been forced to stay alert and confront an alpha several decades older than him.
When he turned on his phone, his hands were still trembling. The phone had fallen to the ground and shattered when he fainted last night. Tiny shards of glass scratched his fingertips, stinging slightly.
But Zhen Ning didn’t care. He just wanted to open his phone and find Yan Chengfeng.
As soon as the screen lit up, countless messages flooded in.
“I’m at the training room. Where are you?”
“…Are you mad at me? Angry because I fell asleep during the movie?”
“Zhen Ning?”
“The manager said you have a fever and are in the hospital? Why would a fever require hospitalization? Is it serious?”
There were also several missed calls.
Without hesitation, Zhen Ning video-called Yan Chengfeng back.
The moment the call connected, Yan Chengfeng’s urgent voice came through. “Where are you right now? What’s wrong? Are you still running a fever? Why would a fever be serious enough to require hospitalization?”
For a moment, staring at Yan Chengfeng’s face, Zhen Ning suddenly didn’t know how to respond.
How was he supposed to tell him?
Tell him that he had differentiated into an omega overnight?
Tell him… that he might never be able to compete?
But Zhen Ning also knew that Xiong Hao had been right about something.
Yan Chengfeng was facing the biggest match of his training career tomorrow. He needed a good result.
He needed to prove himself because his path hadn’t changed. He could still compete.
“…I had a high fever last night,” Zhen Ning said. “It wouldn’t go down, so I came to the hospital for an IV. I think it’s just a cold. Nothing serious.”
“For the match…” he added, “I’ll have to wait until I’m better to get back in.”
“It’s okay. Just focus on getting better first.” Yan Chengfeng looked remorseful. “It’s all my fault. It was so cold yesterday, but I still dragged you to see a movie. We should’ve just taken a cab back.”
Zhen Ning didn’t say anything.
He stared at Yan Chengfeng’s face, his breath catching for a moment. “Yan Chengfeng, what happened to your face?”
Yan Chengfeng’s body tensed abruptly.
As if realizing something, he quickly raised a hand, ruffling his hair to cover the bruise on his forehead.
Yan Chengfeng: “Oh, this? It’s nothing, really. Just…”
But seeing the look on Zhen Ning’s face, he didn’t bother finishing the excuse.
He knew he couldn’t hide it from Zhen Ning, so he finally took a deep breath and lowered his head.
“This morning, when you weren’t around, some people were saying you were faking being sick because you were too nervous about tomorrow’s match. They called you a quitter.”
He muttered, “As if! We’ve been training for so long, and your mindset has always been better than mine. What’s there to be afraid of… They’re just a bunch of jerks.”
“They’ve always been jealous of you and love talking behind your back.” He tried to seem indifferent. “And since I couldn’t find you, I was already frustrated. Then they kept pushing it too far—”
“I couldn’t hold back, so… I got into a fight with them,” he admitted.
Zhen Ning silently clenched the phone in his hand.
“Yan Chengfeng,” he said, his chest heaving. “Your temper…”
Yan Chengfeng felt guilty. “I’ll change, I promise.”
Zhen Ning suddenly thought of something.
“It’s seven o’clock now.” He stared at Yan Chengfeng. “You have a match against DXG’s second team tomorrow. Isn’t Joe supposed to be giving you extra practice tonight?”
Yan Chengfeng’s expression froze.
After a long pause, he mumbled, “Oh, right. Yeah, there is. But we were just taking a break—”
Zhen Ning struggled to suppress the tremor in his voice and interrupted him directly. “…Yan Chengfeng.”
Yan Chengfeng was silent for a moment.
“I probably won’t be able to play in tomorrow’s match.”
He scratched his head and said carelessly, “Because of the fight, things got a little loud. The manager and the others said my temper and mindset weren’t good, and they wanted me to reflect for a few days, so… they benched me.”
He paused before adding, “Even though they started it, somehow I was the only one who got pulled.”
“But anyway, you need to rest and recover over the next few days.”
He tried to mask the disappointment in his expression, forcing a grin as he said, “With you not there, it doesn’t really matter if I play or not. It’s no big deal.”
Author’s note:
Here’s a little preview of the upcoming plot: Flashback ends—the couple gets lovey-dovey—they play a sweet match together—ending. So, there really aren’t many chapters left.
![[Rebirth Rise] The Male God is Explosively Handsome](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/1751665213563.jpg "[Rebirth Rise] The Male God is Explosively Handsome")
