The smell of lentil stew filled the tiny dining hall of the Dream Orphanage. Old paint peeled from the walls, and a single flickering light buzzed overhead.
Children sat in crooked rows, sharing dented metal plates. At the far end, a gentle woman in a worn nun's dress ladled soup with her usual patience.
"Where are those seven troublemakers?" she asked, though there was laughter in her voice.
"Sister," a boy answered, grinning through a mouthful of rice. "They said something about 'Operation Secret Mango Mission!' and ran off."
The nun sighed, then smiled. "Those rascals. Missing dinner again. Heaven help them."
The other kids laughed, but a shadow crossed their faces. They pitied the seven — because every time they broke rules, they came back bruised, hungry, and smiling like it was worth it.
None of them could know that by morning, the smell of stew would be replaced by the stench of smoke.
One day later.
The Dream Orphanage was nothing but a heap of blackened bones.
---
Bang!
Somewhere on the edge of the slum, in a half-collapsed house lit by some low light, three boys lay on the dusty floor. Bruised, trembling, defiant. Three girls huddled in the corner, too frightened to cry.
Around them stood a gang of men — scavengers who prowled the slums for the helpless. Their laughter filled the room, harsh and empty.
"Well, look what we have here," one of them sneered. "Street rats hiding in my building."
Another kicked one of the boys aside. "They can't pay rent, can't fight back… useless."
"Look at the Lolis. Their crying faces alone just makes me horny." another said as he stepped on a boy's face.
"Lolicon. Just because you have a small rod. You always go for the children." Rebuked another guy.
"Hehe. Size doesn't matter. Age doesn't matter. No one is going to help these chicks even if I r**ed them. These Trashes who were born accidentally and abandoned."
"Touch them and you'll regret it," the smallest boy spat, his lip bleeding.
The man raised a boot and pressed it against the boy's cheek, forcing his head to the ground. "You talk too much for a gutter rat."
The other children could only watch. Fear closed their throats like hands. The air smelled of rust and dust — and something darker.
One of the thugs reached for the nearest girl. She whimpered and shrank back.
"Don't dare to touch her." The boy below his feet glared at him again and bit his leg.
"Motherfuc-" He kicked his face. The boy fell in pain.
"What are you gonna do orphans? Tell your parents?" He smirked.
"Hahaha" Mocking Laughter echoed along with Children's sobs.
"I am gonna r**e all these girls and bring some guys and make them enjoy and earn some money. After these bitches grow up, I'll sell these to brothels."
"He will come. Big brother will come. He will beat you and save us." One of the girls said.
"Big brother, who is it?" The man mocked her.
He walked towards her and removed her dress.
"No matter how I see. This lass doesn't have breasts or ass. I don't understand your taste. You pedos." The Thug rebuked.
"Premature b**bs. Perky a** And tightened p****. These are fruits about to get ripe. It has a unique taste. Taste of sin." The man licked his lips.
The other man shook his head.
"Now Who is gonna save you? Huh? Who is your Big Brother? What is his name?" The Pedo man asked with a mocking smile and lifted her with hands.
"Leo."
The other man heard a voice behind him. Suddenly he felt an intense pain in his back. He subconsciously placed his hand on his back. "A knife?" He fell down and his life is fading away slowly.
"Big Brother!" The boys and girls shouted.
The others froze.
"Where did—"
Leo appeared in the doorway, eyes dark, silent. For a moment, no one breathed.
Then something silver flashed.
Leo grabbed more knives — each one different in shape, size, and purpose. His expression was cold, unreadable. He didn't scream, didn't curse. He moved like a machine, silent and focused, his eyes sharp as steel. One by one, the men fell before him — each strike landing with deadly precision. A knife to the throat. A blade to the eye. Every movement was efficient, terrifyingly calm, as if guided by instinct no child should possess.
The last man — the one who had tormented them — panicked. In desperation, he grabbed the little girl by the neck and lifted her up, his trembling hand pressing against her skin. "Stay back!" he shouted, his voice breaking.
Leo didn't stop.
The man turned, hoping fear would buy him time. But the last thing he saw was a glint of steel cutting through the air. The knife buried itself deep into his eyelid, silencing his words with a scream of agony. He collapsed, writhing on the floor, clutching at the blood pouring from his face.
The girl broke free and ran straight into Leo's arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. He held her close, his blood-stained hands trembling — but his eyes remained cold.
In Leo's eyes, the screaming man blurred into the image of another — a man in a lab coat, writhing on the floor.
The Pedo man also died.
"It's over," he said quietly.
The girl, who was stripped naked, still trembling, in his arm, "Big Brother!"
Leo hesitated, then gently patted her head. "You did well."
He took off his shirt and gently wrapped it around her covering her body.
The others gathered close. Even in fear, they stood straighter now, following his lead.
"Tessia, Rem, Anya, Levi, Nick, Vince," Leo said, naming them one by one.
They stood to attention, voices cracking but proud. "Reporting, Sir!"
Leo smiled — just a little. "Good. Then this house is ours now. Nope... we are occupying this Base. "
The lights flickered. For the first time since the fire, they felt safe.
Outside, the slum the city was busy. But inside the ruined building, seven children sat around a cracked floor and shared a handful of bread like it was a feast.
No one spoke of the men who had attacked them.
No one mentioned the flames that had taken their home.
But every child's eyes turned, again and again, to Leo.
Other kids looked at him with hope. They have no home, no parents, no guardians, and no money, and from now on they might never have enough to eat. The slums were overflowing with children like them. Their death would attract little notice, let alone surprise. But they have their Big Brother. Big Brother is so reliable afterall.
In the blink of Eye, Five years passed...