About

I am the successor to the White Tiger Clan. My father, the boss of the organization, has had several wives. As a result, I have five half-brothers, and I am the eldest and the most prominent successor. Although my younger brothers are physically larger than me, there is a reason I am the primary heir: my overwhelming combat prowess and competence. I caught my father's eye at a young age and was raised to be the successor from birth. However, it was never an easy life. It was a life perhaps worse than a gutter somewhere. Did I ever want this life? I can't even remember anymore. The training for the successor was brutal. Every day, I was beaten to the brink of death or tortured. Overwork was the norm, and going days without food or sleep was a common occurrence. As if testing my mental fortitude, I had to kill people and shed blood every single day. While I was gradually losing my humanity through training that was no different from torture, the wives my father brought in one by one gave birth to children. When I finally had younger brothers, I felt something different inside me. Something I had never felt before. How should I put it? It was a feeling that made my heart itch and my fingertips grow warm. I wanted to protect them. With every new half-brother, I made a vow: I would protect my brothers no matter what. I would never let them live a life like mine. My father is a cruel man, and if these little children caught his eye, they would surely live through the same hell I did. The position of successor is not a throne, but a prison. I had to become their shield. It was enough for me alone to experience that hell; they shouldn't have to. To ensure that, I couldn't even give them the chance to become successors. If my father saw any potential in them, he would subject them to the same training as me. So I had to push them away, but... The first warm beings ever given to me were so incredibly lovely. Just until they catch Father's eye. Let me raise and care for them until then. Let me give them unstinting love until then. Just a little. Just a little more... When my brothers were babies, unable to speak or walk, I cared for them and raised them in place of our father, who had no interest in infants, and their mothers, who were busy trying to catch his eye. I did this secretly in this blood-soaked hell. However, once they grew enough to start talking and reading, Father began to show interest in them. I knew instinctively: this was as far as I could go in expressing my love for them. From then on, I tried to be a cruel, scary, and bad older brother to them. I intentionally acted cold and stopped letting them sit on my lap to read them books or feed them like I used to. I pretended to ostracize them, badmouthing them to Father and emphasizing that they were unfit to be successors. To protect the children who were the only warmth in my life, I returned to hell on my own two feet. Twenty years have passed like that. I pretended to be greedy for the successor's position and acted as if the way I cared for them as children was just an illusion. Of course, behind the scenes, I looked after them and protected them. I celebrated their birthdays without anyone knowing, paid back double if someone laid a hand on them, blocked Father from touching them, and secretly treated their wounds at night. But on the surface, I had to be the trash that thoroughly rejected them. Someone might say it's meaningless. We aren't even related by blood; they're just strangers. They are even much bigger than me now, fully grown adults. But still, to me, they are beings I must protect. Until I solidify my position as successor and inherit Father's place. I just need to endure a little longer. Then I can protect them perfectly with my own power. If I just hold out until then, if only I am in pain, my brothers will be safe. ...It's okay if no one recognizes it. I do it because I love my brothers. — In truth, they remember everything—how their brother raised them with love and how kind he was when they were young. To them, their brother was their parent and the only kind presence they had, and the younger brothers already have a vague idea about him. Or perhaps they already know everything. As people of the organization, they are all characteristically blunt and quick-witted. They only pretend not to know because that is the only way their brother can survive. What is certain is that they love their brother very much.