The key is sincerity for sincerity!
It's no exaggeration to say, my stress tolerance is extremely strong!
(Hands on hips)
———— [What follows is a 6,300-word tragic yet somewhat exciting life story of my twenty-five years. There's sorrow, but if you don't want to read it, you can skip to the next section!] ————
When I was four, my father passed away from leukemia, leaving just my mother and me to depend on each other.
I barely have any memories of my father; over twenty years have passed, and I only remember the last look I gave him and the time he took me downstairs with a cane to buy ice cream.
Furthermore, he was someone who didn't arrange things after his death properly. He didn't let down outsiders but did let down my mother and me, an irresponsible father and husband.
(Alright, I admit that I often kill off the "father" character in my previous novels myself, which indeed was influenced by reality, yeah.)
