Host, Please Be Honest! What Exactly Are You? Chapter 1 Dorian D. Tian

Brilliant sunlight streamed through expansive glass windows, flooding a lavish chamber with light.

From the outside world, the gentle chirping of birds mingled with the distant hum of traffic and voices, seeping into the opulent room.

The sheer magnificence of the space was enough to incite envy in many.

However, this was not the sentiment directed towards the individual slumbering on the disheveled bed.

Instead of envy, feelings of pity, scorn, or even schadenfreude were more fitting for the occupant.

A suffocating aroma of alcohol permeated the air, potent enough to repel any entrant.

Scattered around the bed were over fifty emptied liquor bottles, strewn about carelessly.

More bottles lay strewn across the expansive bed itself.

Suddenly, the young man asleep on the bed languidly fluttered his eyes open, his expression twisting in distaste.

Ugh.

'Where am I?'

He pushed himself up, surveying his surroundings with a gaze devoid of emotion, despite his strikingly handsome features.

There was no doubt; this was not his own residence.

So, where had he ended up?

Kidnapping seemed improbable. The multitude of bottles on the bed, combined with the distinct sensation of alcohol coursing through his veins, left no room for doubt that he had been drinking heavily.

Yet, this was perplexing, as he distinctly recalled returning home and promptly retiring to his own bed the previous night.

Could it be that certain kidnappers had a peculiar habit of force-feeding their victims alcohol and confining them in luxurious accommodations?

He drew back the covers, sliding to the edge of the colossal bed with measured movements, as his thoughts drifted to its sheer grandeur.

He mused that it felt like a fusion of four king-sized beds, joined together.

Two were placed side-by-side, and the other two were positioned at the foot of the beds, extending the space considerably.

Calmly, he lowered his feet to the floor, settling on the edge of the mattress with his fingers running through his hair.

Honestly, even the act of dismounting the bed felt like a considerable effort.

And just as he had suspected, memories that were not his own began to flood his consciousness.

He closed his eyes, enduring the throbbing ache until the influx subsided.

As anticipated, he had transmigrated into a parallel world.

But the question remained: Why?

The young man slicked his hair back with his hands, crossed his arms over his chest, and sank into deep contemplation.

While many who experienced transmigration would typically react with excitement, terror, or overwhelming elation, he, on the other hand, felt no particular emotion stirring within him.

Why exactly had he transmigrated?

He refused to believe that events occurred without a cause.

There was no such thing as a free meal, after all.

Therefore, his presence here must serve a purpose.

Was it to exact vengeance for the original owner of this body, or was it for some other reason?

Speaking of himself, in his prior existence, his name was Yan Long, and he was twenty-one when he had last slept.

As for his occupations, there had been quite a variety.

However, that was a tale for another time.

The owner of the body he now inhabited was named Dorian D. Tian.

Just three months prior, the seventeen-year-old youth, having recently completed high school, met with a tragic fate on the very day he received his academic results.

His parents, having been informed earlier by the national examination board of his exceptional performance, left their work early to celebrate with him.

Tragically, on their journey, they were involved in a car accident that left them in a persistent vegetative state.

It was then that the young man learned that his seemingly benevolent relatives were far from kind.

His uncle, who had been collaborating with his parents in the company, swiftly assumed control, citing Dorian's supposed 'immaturity' as the reason.

Furthermore, his uncle had taken steps to bribe company and legal officials, leading to numerous alterations in the company's structure.

With his parents unresponsive and showing no signs of recovery, his uncle's family grew increasingly brazen in their attempts to seize the company.

The original owner's father was an orphan, while his mother hailed from a deeply patriarchal lineage that insisted she relinquish her assets to her brother.

Dorian's maternal grandmother harbored a distinct dislike for him.

She showed favoritism only towards the children of his uncle's family.

Consequently, he perpetually faced disdain from his maternal relatives.

Moreover, his parents were diligent individuals who had successfully established a formidable company, capable of rivaling those owned by established wealthy clans.

The Tian name commanded significant recognition throughout the entire nation.

Naturally, many treated him with considerable respect.

However, following these events, his former companions distanced themselves, and his girlfriend ended their relationship.

The original Dorian, who was destined for a bright and carefree future, was suddenly plunged into an unending nightmare, leaving him bewildered and heartbroken over his parents' condition.

The sole silver lining in this grim situation was his uncle's assurance to continue his parents' medical treatment.

Additionally, their substantial estate remained untouched. The pertinent legal documents had always been in Dorian's possession, secured in a bank vault since his parents entrusted them to him on his fifteenth birthday.

As for the treacherous former household staff, they absconded with numerous valuable possessions, leaving the residence in a desolate state.

Remaining behind were five guards sworn to his parents, currently stationed in the hospital, their vigil unwavering to prevent any treachery.

Each of these individuals possessed a unique history, bound by deep loyalty, particularly to the patriarch.

Within the mansion's walls, a third figure remained: the family's butler, a man in his thirties, also carrying his own compelling past.

These six souls were the only ones who chose to stand by the original proprietor's side.

All others had elected to forsake their allegiance, siding with the uncle.

Yan Long... No, Dorian D. Tian, rose from his seat, hands slipping into his pockets, his gaze calmly fixed on the world outside the window.

Now that he occupied this existence, retribution for the original owner's suffering was a certainty.

After all, the agony embedded in the original owner's heart resonated within him as well.

Yet, a persistent question troubled his thoughts.

Dorian narrowed his eyes, deep in contemplation.

'With my current capabilities, avenging him could be accomplished within months, a year at the absolute latest.

So, could this genuinely be the sole purpose for my transmigration?'

~Ding.

[Congratulations, Host.

You have been identified as an Exorcist!]