C1 Chapter One: The Wrong Lightning Strike

Chapter One: The Wrong Lightning Strike

Ethan Blake had always said cola was the one true love of his life. Icy, fizzy, and perfectly sweet—it never betrayed him the way people did. So there he was, sprawled on the couch with a liter of his favorite brand, watching late-night reruns on TV, when fate decided it was the perfect moment to ruin his evening.

A flash of lightning split the sky.

“Whoa, that’s close—”

Before Ethan could even move, a deafening clap of thunder shook the room, and pain like molten fire shot through his veins. His scream was swallowed by the storm. The last thing he remembered was the acrid scent of burnt metal… and then, nothing.

When he opened his eyes, the world had changed.

Above him hung a glittering chandelier, its crystal droplets scattering light like diamonds. He wasn’t on his couch. He wasn’t even in his apartment. He was lying in the middle of a massive bed with scarlet silk sheets, the kind only billionaires in soap operas owned.

Ethan shot upright, clutching the blanket to his chest. “What the… Where the heck am I?”

His gaze dropped to his own body, and his jaw nearly dislocated. Gone were his familiar tan skin and gym-earned abs. In their place was a pale, almost sickly white torso, thin wrists, and legs that looked like they hadn’t seen the sun in years.

“What happened to my six-pack?!” Ethan wailed, patting his stomach as though the abs might suddenly reappear if he searched hard enough. “I worked two years for those! Don’t tell me lightning fried them away!”

Panic thrummed in his chest as he scrambled off the bed. The room was luxurious, but it wasn’t his. Heavy velvet curtains covered the windows, antique furniture lined the walls, and the air smelled faintly of sandalwood and old books.

“This has to be a dream. A really, really expensive dream.”

He bolted for the door, gripping the polished brass handle—only for it to snap clean off in his hand with a metallic clink. Ethan froze.

“…No way. This place looks like it costs more than my entire life savings, and they use cheap doorknobs?!”

While he stared at the broken handle like it had personally betrayed him, footsteps echoed down the corridor. An elderly man in a crisp suit hurried in, eyes brimming with tears.

“Master! You’re awake!”

Ethan blinked. “Uh. Grandpa? Do I… know you?”

The old man’s face froze, then softened into a pained smile. “You don’t remember me? That must be because you’ve been asleep for so long. It’s me—Sebastian. Your butler.”

“….”

Ethan squinted at him. “You’re telling me… I have a mansion… and a butler?”

Sebastian nodded solemnly.

“This is… definitely one of my brother’s pranks,” Ethan muttered, pinching his arm. Hard. “Ow!” His eyes widened. “Okay, not a prank. Unless my brother hired actors, rented a castle, and found the budget to import a chandelier from France—”

Sebastian coughed politely. “Master, this is indeed your mansion. You’ve lived here for years. Please, calm yourself.”

“Calm myself?” Ethan threw his arms up. “I wake up in a vampire’s bedroom, in someone else’s body, and the first person I meet is an old man who calls himself my butler—how exactly am I supposed to calm myself?!”

The butler gave him a pitying look. “Master, you’ve always been… eccentric. Perhaps your memory loss has worsened your condition.”

Ethan opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he caught sight of the bathroom door. He darted inside, desperate for answers, and twisted the faucet on. Cool water splashed his face, grounding him.

Then he glanced up.

And screamed.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Sebastian barged in, sword in hand, eyes blazing. “Master, what’s wrong? Is there an enemy—?!”

“That—That—Who is that?!” Ethan jabbed a trembling finger at the mirror. “Who is that ridiculously handsome boy staring back at me?!”

Sebastian froze. “….”

Slowly, his gaze shifted to the mirror. All he saw was Ethan’s reflection—long bangs, pale skin, sharp jawline, and lips far too delicate for a man. Truly, his master’s face was one to inspire envy.

“…Master,” Sebastian said finally, expression flat. “Do you really have to praise yourself out loud? You’re already handsome enough to make others envious. Must you rub salt in the wound?”

Ethan turned back to the mirror, horrified. “You mean this is me? Me?! No way! I mean, I always knew I was good-looking, but this is next-level handsome! Like K-drama lead with perfect lighting handsome! What is happening?!”

He ruffled his hair in frustration, only to freeze again when he realized the messy look made him appear even more alluring. His reflection smirked back like a runway model.

Ethan slapped both hands over his face. “I can’t live like this! People are going to think I’m a narcissist just for existing!”

Sebastian sighed. As expected, this master is as dramatic as the rumors claimed. Crazy, handsome, and impossible to serve.

Two hours later, Ethan was still sitting in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection like he was watching a nature documentary. Eventually, he slumped back against the counter, letting out a long groan.

“Fine. I’ll accept it. Lightning fried me into another body. This guy’s rich, has a mansion, and a butler named Sebastian. He’s also pale as a ghost, gloomy-looking, and sleeps like he’s auditioning for a coffin. Got it.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Indeed, Master rarely leaves his room. Many doubted if you were even alive these past months.”

“Great.” Ethan flopped dramatically to the floor. “So I’m living in the body of a depressed vampire prince. Just my luck.”

But despite his complaints, gears were turning in his head. He needed a plan. If this wasn’t a dream, then surviving here came first. And if he truly inherited the life of this “original owner,” then he had resources at his disposal.

First order of business: figure out how to live without starving.

“I should probably get a job…” Ethan mumbled.

Sebastian looked at him as though he’d grown horns. “Master… if you think you’re broke, then no one in this world is rich. You own this mountain. And you’re the younger brother of the Zhu Corporation’s head in the capital.”

Ethan’s brain screeched to a halt. “…I own this mountain?”

“Yes.”

“As in, the whole mountain?!”

“Yes.”

Ethan’s eyes went round. “So not only am I rich—I’m super rich. Like, villain-in-a-drama rich. What kind of person have I transmigrated into?!”

He buried his face in his hands. Lightning hadn’t just killed him—it had dropped him into the life of a billionaire shut-in with an envy-inducing face.

Somewhere in the heavens, Ethan was sure the gods were laughing at him.