Transmigrated as the Villain's Omega Test Subject

Iris Nova transmigrated, and she was reincarnated as a newborn.

　　The world she was reborn into was a strange one, resembling the late stages of an apocalypse where order had just begun to stabilize—a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

　　Here, plants mutated. Animals mutated. Anything that underwent mutation was collectively labeled a "mutant." Humans attacked by mutants risked infection, and if the infection level grew too high, they too would mutate.

　　But humans could also evolve—mutate, in their own way—in one of two directions:

　　The first were Sentinels. Blessed with superhuman senses and devastating combat abilities, they could manifest predatory animal avatars called "spirits" to fight alongside them. Their only drawback? A tendency to spiral into violent rampages.

　　The second were Guides. Empaths with extraordinary mental strength, their spirits took the form of herbivores or omnivores. Their gift was the ability to soothe and stabilize Sentinels.

　　Both Sentinels and Guides were governed by a central authority called Tarra. Currently, Tarra’s records showed that Guides numbered less than one percent of the Sentinel population—and that ratio was steadily declining.

　　Having devoured countless novels in her past life, Iris was no stranger to the Sentinel-Guide dynamic. Accepting it was easy. The hard part came when, after ten carefree years, she realized she hadn’t just been reborn into any world—she’d been reborn into a book. Specifically,a adult fiction novel she’d once read.

　　In this world, Guides soothed Sentinels through intimacy. Light comfort came from touch. Deep comfort came from sex. And the original female lead? Her entire storyline revolved around getting cozy and intimate with a rotating cast of gorgeous men.

　　The good news: Iris wasn’t the female lead.

　　The bad news: at thirteen, Iris awakened as a Guide.

　　Help.

　　Without hesitation, Iris chose to hide her identity. With help from her father, a doctor, she managed to suppress her nature with inhibitors until she was sixteen. That was the year a deeply infected patient arrived at her father’s clinic, mutated on the spot, and took both her parents with him.

　　Thankfully, her father had prepared for the worst—he’d taught Iris the inhibitor formula. From sixteen onward, she brewed her own. But the ingredients were expensive, and now orphaned, she had to drop out of school and work to survive.

　　To make ends meet, she moved from the suburbs to the city center, working multiple jobs from dawn till dusk. Her efforts paid off. She successfully kept her secret until eighteen, with nearly half a year’s supply of inhibitor stockpiled.

　　But then came the complication: her employer Silas Anderson—the one who gave her the easiest, highest-paying job—awakened as a Sentinel.

　　To a Sentinel, a Guide was like catnip. Inhibitors didn’t erase her nature; they merely muted it, making her harder to detect. But up close? She’d be exposed.

　　Luckily, her job rarely brought her near Silas. Unfortunately, a newly awakened Sentinel’s spirit was uncontrollable—and several times, his had nearly touched her.

　　Time to quit.

　　Iris submitted her resignation to the housekeeper--Liam. Her job? Walking three dogs. Nothing irreplaceable. The housekeeper agreed—but asked her to stay until they found a replacement.

　　A week passed. No replacement. Apparently, none of the applicants could win over all three dogs.

　　“Liam, I really have urgent matters. Could I possibly leave today?” Iris was done living on edge.

　　Liam hesitated. “I’ll have to ask the young master.”

　　“Thank you.”

　　“Come with me.”

　　Iris followed reluctantly.

　　Silas was swimming in the estate’s indoor pool. Liam told Iris to wait outside while he went in to report.

　　Leaning against the wall, exhausted, Iris let her mind drift.

　　Once she lost this job, she’d need a new one—fast. In this wasteland, without connections or special skills, finding well-paying work was brutal. And if her income dried up, so would her inhibitor supply. If that happened, exposure meant not only mandatory—and multiple—comfort duties but also Tarra’s punishment for hiding her identity.

　　A flicker of movement caught her eye. Iris looked up. A black wolfdog sat just inside the doorway, head tilted, watching her.

　　Silas’s spirit.

　　Her muscles tensed. She straightened, facing it, and took one step back.

　　The wolfdog immediately rose and padded two steps forward, its bright eyes brimming with curiosity about Iris.

　　Silas had only recently awakened, so his spirit, though physically mature, still had the mind of a pup—curious about everything.

　　Iris kept her voice low. “Good doggy. Go back.”

　　The wolfdog didn’t retreat. Instead, it bounded toward her.

　　This wasn’t the first time it had seen Iris. Before, she’d always been with the three estate dogs. It thought she looked soft and smelled sweet. It wanted to cuddle. But it hated those dogs—so it never got the chance.

　　Now, she was alone.

　　Cuddle time!

　　Ecstatic, the wolfdog charged excitedly at Iris, knocking her straight to the ground.A faint, incredibly pleasant scent filled its nostrils. It whined with contentment, then began licking her cheeks and neck.

　　She really was sweet and soft.

　　Ohhh. Love. Super love.

　　“Young master?”

　　Inside the pool house, Liam wondered why his young master had suddenly fallen silent.

　　Silas covered his nose and mouth, his cheeks and ears slowly flushing pink. His gaze drifted toward the door. “Never mind. Keep Iris on. If she still wants to leave, raise her pay until she’s satisfied.”

　　After all, his spirit seemed to adore her.

　　Faced with triple her original salary, Iris shamelessly decided to stay.

She guessed that Silas hadn't noticed anything unusual about her, because since that day the black wolfdog had pounced on her, she hadn't seen Silas or his spirit again.

Looks like she could keep lying low a little longer.

Iris's job with the Anderson family was simple enough: walk the dogs at eight in the morning and six in the evening, an hour each time. The rest of the day was hers to manage. So on top of the Anderson job, she'd taken on two more—tutoring an elementary schooler and looking after an elderly woman with limited mobility. Both were flexible, paid weekly, and best of all, had almost zero chance of exposing her to Sentinels. Safety first.

Originally, she hadn't wanted to keep the dog-walking gig with the Andersons. But who could say no to that kind of money? Turned out fortune really did favor the bold—or at least the desperate.

Ir