As consciousness seeped back into me, a guttural moan tore from my throat.
"Aaaaaaaaah…"
My eyelids fluttered, heavy as lead. The world came back to me in fragments—blurred shapes, swirling colors bleeding together into nonsense. Disoriented, I croaked, "F…fuck…" My own voice sounded strange, hoarse, like it didn't belong to me.
And then it hit me. Memories surged forward like a tidal wave. The pain. The bullets. Ben pulling the trigger. Flesh torn apart. Agony that swallowed me whole. My hand shot to my torso on instinct—fingers trembling, searching for wet blood, open wounds, anything. But there was… nothing. No holes. No sticky warmth. No pain.
Confused, I tried to force my eyes open, but my eyelids fought back, fluttering uselessly.
"Oh! Thank God—he's awake!" a voice gasped nearby.
Huh? Who the hell—?
"Shhh… don't startle him," another voice whispered, soft and feminine.
At last, my eyes adjusted enough to see. My jaw went slack. Surrounding me were women—barely clothed, if you could even call it that. Thin fabrics clung to curves that defied reason. Nipples poked shamelessly through see-through dresses. One woman hadn't even bothered with a top—her massive tits swayed freely, a sinful vision of perfection.
My head fell back onto the pillow, eyes blank. And then… a devilish grin spread across my lips.
So I really died. This… this must be heaven. And damn, what a heaven. Busty, voluptuous MILFs everywhere I look. Look at those tits. Look at those asses. God really outdid Himself this time. And the clothes—or the lack of them—fuck, I can't even pretend. This is paradise.
"Hey, child, are you okay?" One of them leaned in close, pressing my head gently against her enormous breasts like a mother comforting her baby. My face sank into her softness, and I couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Damn… they even roleplay. Professional angels, huh?
But before I could drown in bliss, it hit me—pain, searing and brutal, ripping through my body. I screamed, my voice raw, my spine arching. My lower body refused to move, paralyzed. Every attempt sent shocks of agony tearing through me.
Why the fuck is there pain in the afterlife?
My vision blurred again, spinning out of control. A firm hand shoved me back down, pinning me with surprising strength. Voices blurred, echoing in my skull, but I couldn't tell who was speaking anymore.
The last thing I felt before darkness swallowed me again was the heat of their bodies looming close… and the bitter taste of confusion on my tongue.
"Hahh! Hahh!"
James shot upright, chest heaving, sweat beading on his forehead. He gulped down air like a drowning man breaking the surface. Slowly, his heartbeat steadied, the haze in his eyes clearing.
"Where… the hell am I?" he muttered, scanning the room. The walls were rough clay, the ceiling low and uneven, a single dim oil lamp flickering in the corner. No sterile hospital smell. No angels. No marble stairs to heaven.
From the pain earlier, one thing was obvious — this wasn't a dream, and it sure as hell wasn't paradise.
And where did those women go? he thought bitterly. They were the only thing keeping me sane.
Before he could make sense of it, a voice rang out inside his head — mechanical, emotionless, completely out of place in this mud-and-wood shack. It wasn't even "in" the room. It was in him.
[ Transmigration Successful ]
The words weren't just a sound. They appeared like text on a screen in his mind, pulsing faintly.
"What the fuck…" he whispered, pulse spiking.
[ Found… A Degenerate Host ]
James blinked. "Degenerate host? What does that even—"
[ Loading System… Successful ]
A faint blue panel blinked into existence in midair. Just… appeared. Like some sci-fi hologram floating in the candlelight. Its edges shimmered unnaturally. James felt bile rise in his throat.
[ Pervert System Loaded Successfully ]
Three words left him stunned: What. The. Fuck.
"I… I fucking transmigrated?" James croaked, half in disbelief, half in irritation.
[ Yes, Host. You died after being shot by the husband of the person you were fucking. Damn, he was heartless. ]
The voice echoed in his skull like a smug laugh.
"Hey, you metal-voiced mutt," James snapped. "What's with that tone?"
[ Nothing, Host. I just remembered the scene after your death.]
A chill crawled up James's spine. "What do you mean?"
[ Oh, nothing much. But your body was found in a dump yard with your sliced dick in your hands. It was on TV. ]
[ Ha. Ha. Ha. ]
James doubled over instinctively, his hand flying to his crotch as a phantom pain seared through him.
"That… that bastard," he roared, fists clenching. "I'll kill that motherfucking bastard!"
[ Oh really? How? You're not even in the same world now. This is Orindal — a realm in a completely different dimension. ]
The words landed like a punch. His fury sputtered out. Dead in his old world. Gone. Nothing left to avenge. He exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. Forget it. That's not my life anymore.
To distract himself from the grotesque image of his own corpse, James forced a smirk. "Alright, fine. So I transmigrated. What exactly are you then? One of those 'golden fingers' from the trashy webnovels I used to read?"
[ Indeed. I am your golden finger. With me, you can have anything you desire. I can make you the most powerful man alive, the ruler of Orindal— ]
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." James cut the voice off. "I don't care about ruling shit. I just want women. That's it. That's my goal."
[ Ha. Ha. That's exactly why I chose you. This world is perfect for someone like you. ]
"What's that supposed to mean?" James asked, frowning.
[ You'll understand once you inherit your predecessor's memories. Brace yourself — it will hurt. A lot. ]
"Wait, what—"
The pain hit like a hammer to the skull. White-hot, blinding, stabbing through his temples. James screamed, clutching his head.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
The sound echoed off the clay walls. It must have carried, because the door to the room slammed open.
A voluptuous woman rushed in, her dress slipping off one shoulder as she dropped to her knees beside him. She smelled faintly of jasmine and sweat. Tears streaked her cheeks.
"Its… Its alright son…" she whispered, pulling him against her soft chest, rocking him like a child.
James could barely process her words. His vision swam. The pain shredded his thoughts to pieces.