My Father Is a Tyrant

I, Perseus, was born silent. It's not weakness, it's my will that refuses to cry the first time for this cold world. My father used his blood-stained armor as my cradle, and used his cold stylus to carve my name into the law. He said: "This is not weakness, but the rudiment of will." In this family, love is a burden, warmth is poison, and only absolute order and power are the truth. Now, I'm awake. I will use the iron and blood they taught me to judge everything that made me. ——This is a cruel epic of a god beginning to learn how to become a "human".