Chapter 7

At six-foot-three, Asher wasn't exceptionally tall, but he possessed an incredible vertical jump, high agility, sharp reflexes, and clinical accuracy. Combined with his years of unspoken chemistry with Elliot, he faced no real pressure when suppressing that crew from the international class.

Elliot intercepted a pass and transferred it to him. Catching the ball, Asher leaped instantly into the air, aiming for a shot, only for his chest to be struck hard by an elbow packed with concentrated force.

Following a heavy, muffled thud, the ball didn't slip from his hands, but his body instinctively hunched forward over the impact.

His skin was fair. Now, glistening with sweat under the glaring white streetlamps, he looked noticeably pale, to the point where even his lips were entirely drained of color.

The spectators who had been screaming and cheering fell silent.

Milo threw his water bottle straight to the ground and rushed forward, shouting fiercely at Sterling, "How can you guys hit people like that!"

Sterling offered an arrogant shrug. "It’s a game of basketball. Isn't a little physical contact completely normal?"

"You clearly hit him on purpose! It’s happened so many times! We’ve all been watching!"

Milo generally had a sweet temper, but even a rabbit would bite when backed into a corner. His eyes flared a fierce, angry red. Unfortunately, he stood at only five-foot-eight against the other’s six-foot-three. That seven-inch height difference made him look exactly like a harmless little rabbit, and the opponent didn't afford him a single shred of respect.

Sterling even let out a vulgar whistle. "Young Master Asher really is something. So many Omegas rushing over to fawn on you. But are you Omegas... seriously this cheap? Rushing to let someone... hm?"

Milo didn't know how to swear, and his entire face flushed a deep crimson from pure frustration.

Sterling’s smile turned even more contemptuous. "You Omegas are cheap, but us Alphas still have a game to play. Beat it."

With that, he reached out his hand, planning to hoist Milo up and toss him off the court. However, his wrist was instantly clamped in midair by an iron grip, completely immobility.

"Keep your hands to yourself. You're filthy." Asher's face lacked color, making his dark eyes look exceptionally cold and vicious.

His physical state hadn't been ideal lately; he was constantly plagued by lethargy and fatigue. Just now, for some unknown reason, despite only taking two hits, it felt as though his entire skeletal frame was about to fracture, making it difficult to even breathe through the pain.

Otherwise, Sterling "The Bull" would have been laid out the moment he finished his first sentence.

Refraining from beating him over a court conflict was a matter of cultivation.

Beating him for opening his filthy mouth was also a matter of cultivation.

Asher turned his head to Milo. "Take them and clear out."

Milo knew Asher despised displaying raw violence in front of Omegas, so he nodded and began ushering the crowd away.

Lulu, who was with him, helped herd the group, yet she couldn't resist turning her head back repeatedly to look toward the court with deep worry.

That backward glance triggered Sterling completely. He let out an explicit, mocking laugh toward Asher. "Oh? What's this? Is Young Master Asher worried about losing face in front of this pack of Omegas who are lining up to get laid by you? Is that why you're clearing the court?"

"Can't be helped. Domestic scandals shouldn't be aired in public."

"?"

Ignoring Sterling's bewildered expression, Asher looked back at Elliot, asking nonchalantly, "Your family runs a law firm, right? I want to consult you beforehand: if physical force becomes necessary during the process of educating a son, does it count as domestic abuse?"

The crowd of onlookers who hadn't managed to leave yet couldn't suppress a collective chuckle.

Sterling flew into a humiliated rage. His body moved faster than his brain. By the time he remembered that his original plan was to goad Asher into striking first to shift the blame, his fist was already flying straight toward that exquisite, beautiful face.

Then, it was intercepted.

The exact scene that had taken place in the sacred men's room was flawlessly replicated.

Asher raised an eyebrow, speaking with deep, parental gravity. "Why must you be such a rebellious child?"

"Screw you! Asher, what the hell are you playing at?! And what the hell are you idiots standing there frozen for?!"

Following Sterling’s roar, the remaining Alphas on his team finally snapped out of the shock of Asher’s fluid defense. Cursing loudly, they swung their fists into action.

Elliot and his crew weren't soft targets either. Now that the opponents had turned this disgusting, failing to deliver a few punches would be an insult to their ethics teachers. Rolling up their sleeves, they charged into the fray.

Although Asher hadn't presented as an Alpha yet, his physical build and athletic talent were staggering. Furthermore, because he hadn't presented, he was entirely immune to any pheromone interference, meaning he had never lost a single fight. That was exactly how his reputation as the school boss had been forged.

Yet he never looked for trouble unprovoked, nor did he ever strike an Omega or a girl, and his academic grades were stellar. Thus, while his temper was far from pleasant, very few people at Riverdale Prep genuinely feared him; most held a mix of infatuation, respect, and awe toward this handsome big shot.

Seeing some blind fools pick a fight with the boss, the spectators couldn't be driven away by any means.

They didn't dare intervene, nor did they want to snitch to the teachers. They intensely anticipated seeing Sterling "The Bull" get hammered to death, while simultaneously worrying that their beloved Ash’s face might get scratched. The group huddled in the corner of the court, watching with their hearts in their throats.

Having been beaten twice before, Sterling was cautious. This time, he had brought a total of eight Alphas, all of whom were former varsity athletes. Combined with Elliot and his crew, over a dozen Alphas were now locked in a chaotic brawl on the court.

Pheromones fluctuate in tandem with emotions and physical exertion. The more intense the emotion and the more violent the exercise, the thicker the pheromones become. Once they reach a certain threshold, they naturally leak out into the air.

With over a dozen thoroughly enraged Alphas fighting with absolute abandon, completely neglecting to restrain their pheromones, one could easily imagine the state of the court.

The Omegas spectating from the corner found it difficult to breathe, their faces flushing red as their legs grew weak.

Asher had never been affected by pheromones before, so he had no idea why he was feeling increasingly miserable.

It felt as though ten thousand distinct scents were flooding toward him simultaneously, forcing their way into his senses. It was suffocatingly thick, yet he couldn't consciously identify a single fragrance. His chest felt constricted, his heart rate spiked, and his limbs grew progressively heavy. It was as if an unseen force was draining his vitality, demanding his absolute submission.

His head felt like it was going to explode, a pain laced with a dizzying, disorienting haze.

His complexion was terrible. In a flash of insight, Sterling captured a sliver of possibility.

He deliberately unleashed his own pheromones. The heavy, oppressive scent of whiskey instantly flooded every single cell in Asher's body.

Asher, who had just raised his leg to kick a brute to the ground, felt his pupils contract.

Receiving Sterling’s silent cue, all the opposing Alphas unleashed their oppressive pheromones at the exact same moment. Elliot and his crew, unaware of the underlying shift, didn't hesitate to unleash their own pheromones to counter the attack.

The grades of these Alphas weren't far apart, meaning there was no absolute dominant force. A dozen scents tangled and clashed violently. The spectating Omegas wanted to run, but their legs had turned completely to jelly, forcing them to repeatedly spray blocking agents and suppressants to mitigate their primal instinct to submit.

Caught in the vortex of pheromones, Asher felt as though he was about to be torn to pieces. Yet his movements remained clinical as he intercepted a rapid strike, execution an absolute shoulder throw that slammed Sterling to the ground. Almost simultaneously, he spun his body and delivered a high reverse kick that swept another opponent off his feet.

The movements were clean, sharp, ruthless, and absolute, appearing entirely unaffected on the surface.

Asher mused that even if he were to die from the pain, he would first teach this pack of beasts the true meaning of "Dad," otherwise they would never learn how to behave like human beings.

Sitting back in the classroom, Caleb was separated by the outer perimeter of the sports field, a flowerbed, and a shrubbery path. He couldn't see the details clearly, and since he assumed Asher was completely immune to pheromones just like before, he didn't think much of it, his face full of pure awe.

"Ash is freaking legendary. Those moves are too hot. If I were an Omega, I’d probably ovulate right on the spot. Right, Seb—"

Sebastian propped one hand against the window sill and vaulted straight out.

"Boss Seb?! What the hell are you doing?! How can you jump out the window?! That's going to deduct conduct points! Don't learn bad habits from Ash! Boss Seb!"

Sebastian didn't look back.

He hadn't intervened earlier because he felt it was unnecessary; the young master was perfectly capable.

But just now, amidst Asher’s ruthless movements, Sebastian had caught a fleeting trace of sheer disorientation in the depths of his eyes.

He understood instantly.

Asher had likely entered his official presentation period. This phase could last anywhere from seven days to a month. Under the intense flux of hormones, a person’s physical state would plummet to its absolute absolute bottom. Furthermore, regardless of whether one was presenting as an Alpha or an Omega, they would become exceptionally sensitive and unadjusted to the sudden influx of pheromones in their world. If not guided properly, it could trigger a severe rejection reaction.

He knew Asher could endure it, but enduring it meant the pain would be excruciating.

The crowd near the court had no idea what had happened. In a single fraction of a second, it felt as though an all-encompassing blizzard had descended, blanketed every floating scent with a crushing weight. Only the crisp, clean scent of pure snow remained. As a stray breeze passed, it carried the faint, tranquil fragrance of a pine forest.

The snow accumulative in the mountains was heavy and chilling, pressing down so hard that everything else lost even the opportunity to struggle for a breath of air.

The Alphas who had been aggressive just a moment ago suddenly looked far from well. Though they fought to maintain their dignity, they couldn't help but knit their brows, breathing heavily. Some even crouched straight onto the ground, clutching their heads.

Meanwhile, the Omegas who had been suffering under the chaotic tangle of a dozen scents, though still weak from their primal instinct to submit to an Alpha, felt the suffocating confusion vanish. They were willing to submit, desperately craving to find a sliver of comfort within this powerful force. Yet everything they touched was nothing but ice-cold snow.

He was only there to suppress this crew of Alphas; he had no intention of granting the Omegas any comfort.

Only Asher felt an extraordinary wave of relief. It was as if something warm had wrapped around him, penetrating through his skin bit by bit, flowing along his blood vessels and meridians to soothe those unfamiliar flashes of burning anxiety and pain.

I'm back from the dead.

With that, he instantly delivered another reverse shoulder throw straight to Sterling.

Sterling felt he was about to die.

Asher felt incredibly great.

Crouching down, he rapped against Sterling's head. "Does it hurt?"

Sterling remained stubborn, refusing to answer.

Asher cracked his knuckles. "I'm generous. My shoulder throws usually come with a 'buy two, get three free' deal. Want to try again?"

Sterling gritted his teeth.

Asher gave a small smile. "Do you know why I'm hitting you?"

Sterling rolled his eyes.

Asher lost his patience. "Three strikes and you're out. This is the third time. If there is a next time, those application letters and college offers of yours will probably only be good for wiping your ass. Understand?"

Sterling suddenly realized the gravity of the situation.

He had always relied on his decent family background and the fact that his university placement was virtually secure to act reckless without boundaries. But he had forgotten that in Southaven, very few people would willingly bring discomfort to the Asher family, including his own highly ranked father.

Furthermore, standing alongside the Asher family had always been the Sebastian family, and no matter how high a position his father held, it could never surpass theirs.

Recalling this strangely familiar pheromone suppression, Sterling looked at Asher who was crouching beside him with a half-smile, then looked at Sebastian who was standing silently not far behind Asher. He realized he had played his hand a bit too far.

Fortunately, over all these years, aside from wanting to sleep in and skipping morning self-study, Asher had never allowed his family to interfere with school matters.

Even the most foolish person possessed the instinct for self-preservation.

Sterling bit his lip. "Understood."

"Apologize."

"I'm sorry."

"Who said I wanted you to apologize to me? Who said you should apologize right here?" Asher’s eyes looked lazy as he raised a finger to point toward the corner where the Omegas were huddled. "Did that filthy mouth of yours conveniently forget what kind of trash it just spewed?"

"...I remember. It was my fault."

"It's fine. Your 'Big Brother Ash' is a generous person. Tomorrow at this exact time, just go deliver a speech under the national flag. The word count isn't much, let's say ten thousand words. The speech will cover exactly three themes. First, how to abandon toxic Alpha traits and become an Alpha who loves and respects Omegas. Second, how to properly use toothpaste and a toothbrush to permanently banish bad breath. Third, why Riverdale Prep's school heartthrob, Asher, is so incredibly handsome."

With that, he patted Sterling’s shoulder with a look of mock appreciation. "Though you are a rebellious child, as a father, I am forgiving. Brace up, Bull."

Sterling wished he could just drop dead on the spot.

Sebastian stood behind Asher, wondering how this guy could return to his cocky self so quickly. Without his own pheromones acts as a guide, he couldn't imagine how much pain the boy should be enduring right now.

"Asher."

"Hm?" Asher turned his head and raised an eyebrow, catching sight of a certain tall silhouette standing there like an icicle. He felt he had been thoroughly upstaged again. "What?"

"Go back and eat. The food is getting cold."

"Oh, alright then."

Asher stood up, stretched his limbs, and called out to Elliot to leave.

Elliot possessed a decent physical build and only felt a slight discomfort, yet he couldn't resist speaking up. "Sebastian’s pheromones are something else. Absolute suppression."

Asher looked entirely blank. "Did that guy unleash his pheromones just now? With so many Omegas around, what the hell was he trying to flaunt by letting his pheromones loose?"

"..."

Elliot felt Asher’s nerves must be ten thousand miles thick.

But a straight Alpha who hadn't presented yet was likely built this way. He figured that not only Sebastian's, but even the chaotic brawl of a dozen Alphas' pheromones earlier hadn't been picked up by Asher either. Remembering that Asher and Sebastian didn't get along, and worried that mentioning presentation would make him unhappy, he decided not to say anything more.

Once Asher left, Sebastian withdrew his pheromones.

The Omegas, who had been completely captivated by Sebastian’s devastating beauty yet frozen by his chilling aura, finally relaxed, falling even deeper into their infatuation.

He's too damn Alpha. Seriously, top-tier Alpha. A true Alpha never wastes breath yapping with you; suppressing you to death with pure pheromones is all it takes!

And this Alpha possesses a god-tier face! His aura is so restrained! His legs are long enough to reach my neck! And that mole under his eye is stealing my absolute soul!

Ahhhh! I'm completely dead again today!

However, Sebastian hadn't refrained from leaving with Asher for the sake of staying behind to charm this pack of Omegas.

He walked slowly over to Sterling’s side. With his hands tucked inside his pockets, he looked down at him. His gold-rimmed glasses coated his eyes with a layer of hard, cold glaze, looking down from a position of absolute superiority. His voice was low, laced with a nonchalant detachment.

"Asher is a good person. I am not. The surveillance footage from the second-floor hallway the other day is currently sitting with me."

Sterling’s entire body went rigid, lying on the ground like a corpse.

"So regarding today's matter, you know what to do. Whatever negative impact Asher suffers, yours will probably be doubled. Understand?"

With a face as pale as ash, Sterling nodded.

Sebastian withdrew his gaze, turned around, and slowly paced back toward the academic building. In that final glance, a deep wave of revulsion leaked out.

The only reason Asher had patiently dragged things out with Sterling was out of concern that the guy would lose all boundaries and spew filthy words, ruining Lulu’s reputation.

But Sebastian wasn't particularly pleased to see anyone bring any sort of trouble to Young Master Asher.

Having delayed for so long, the soup was bound to be cold. A certain someone was exceptionally valuable, and he would surely start being picky again.