I’m the White Pig Nobleman, but With the Memories of My Previous Life, I’ll Raise My Little Brother

My day starts with looking in the mirror and checking my appearance: "You're still a brilliant white pig today".

About me, "Kikunai Phoenix Butterfly (Kikunoi Asai)" was raw as the eldest son of the Kikunai Count family of the Kikunoi Empire and is five years old this year. Five and six months, to be exact. But I'm five years old. I'm in serious shape.

First of all, dark hair stretched out to the shoulders of a severe atmosphere, purple eyes, but completely invisible due to being surrounded by bumpy fat. Round nose like a pig, lips are fat. If there is anything else to praise, is your skin as white as snow? That's why I'm a white pig.

I know the parts are round and too short because they are in toddler shape, but their thickness is unusual. The wrist is as thick as an adult's, and it hurts when you're too hungry to give in.

It's a typical fat sucker, thank you. What kind of torture is that?

But if you've gotten the most out of this.

Until six months ago, I couldn't see my nail tips because of my stomach, because I couldn't scratch my back myself, and most importantly, because I couldn't wipe my butt myself in the bathroom.

The bathroom is fine by itself now.

Everything else was really tight with the ravioli and horns and just the toilet. I was really embarrassed that someone else would take care of me down there!

But well, I'm trying my best to diet because of that shame play, so let's be good.

... What are you surprised about?

Don't I look like I'm five?

Yeah, they say a lot, and the mental age is probably about six times that.

Actually, I have a memory of a previous life.

Oh, hey, don't hit me!

I know how you feel, but don't hit me!

That grew on me six months ago.

At that time, the Kiryu Empire was raging about the epidemic disease, and I sank the young crown five years closer.

A week of high fever, the doctor threw a spoon at me saying this wasn't a good idea, and he said he took his life off the brink of calling a funeral parlor.

I don't know much about this neighborhood because my nanny, Rottenmeyer, has been looking after me since I was a little girl.

All I know is that while I was stuck with that high fever, I managed to keep 'me' alive by devouring the memories of the previous' me 'that had just grown on my head.

Let's just talk about the 'me' a little while ago.

At the end of the bubble, I was born in a country called Japan.

Hobbies include cooking, sewing, DIY, musical viewing, and especially the stage for the ladies of the Garden of Chi is the best thing. They want you to come to their daughter-in-law, the so-called Futsumen otomen.

I'm single, but I got along well with my parents, and I think my job was a little black, but I was a civil servant, and I was lucky enough to work shoulder to shoulder as a colleague with my best friend from elementary school.

but now that I think about it, I guess this shouldn't have happened.

My best friend Tanaka from elementary school loved cartoons and guys called Lanobe and often made me make cosplay costumes.

The animated costumes are decorative and have something in common with the coveted garden costumes. That was fun, and the ingredients are pretty much from his part-time bill, so I was enjoying the luxury of saying I'd do my hobby with someone else's money.

I didn't mean to replace it, but when I came to the house, I entertained him with rice, and I did some mechanics in his manuscript, as well as a makeup clerk in cosplay.

Well, bastards hang out easy with each other, and they just fooled around and lived fun.

On such a summer day, 'Tanaka', who says he can't drop a copy book, and spent three days of his week off the basin at the corner on a manuscript, on the fourth day of the event at Sancho Dawn.

That day is on a hot day that crosses thirty degrees in the morning.

While we managed to book a bunch of copies in time, in circle space, the venue reached temperatures such that the comic clouds boiled.

Sell or buy books, cosplay or take pictures at high tension like an idiot all night long.

After playing around with that, I was struck by a mystery that it was hot but cold.

After taking a bath at home, I collapsed and lost consciousness listening to my desperate calling parents.

Around I don't remember anything after that, I guess I'm dead. Probably with heat stroke. Too dumb.

And "I" was reborn into "I".

I guess the only reason a person is "I" instead of "I" is because the knowledge of the previous "I" has successfully merged into the current "I".

"I" is "I", not "I" at the earliest.