Antagonist Protection Service - Chapter 134: Burn the Witch (5)

Born of a great family, world shaking genius.

Yu Siyang, a 25-years-old chef who just won the International Culinary Gold Award, was smashed by a huge earthen pot, wake up and become a 18-years-old little transparent Yu Siyang in the entertainment circle.

Signed a weird contract and big debts, the chef had to put down the pots and pans and carry his schoolbag to the performance class.

Strive for an achievement as Emperor Film as soon as possible, paying off the debts, and realizing big aspirations to open an ideal restaurant.

But, why the creditor make a very abnormal condition? Waiting online, urgent.

- Description from Novelupdates

Haewon, a violinist, is a nonchalant person who neither blocks the ones who come into his life nor holds onto those who leave. One day, his only friend, Taeshin, commits su*cide, and after failing to speak to Taeshin, who called him several times shortly before his death, Haewon is haunted by his death, even though he doesn’t have much of an attachment to human relationships. Then, he inevitably runs into Woojin, the man Taeshin had a crush on, and Haewon indifferently crumples up the business card Woojin hands him.One day, Haewon, forced into an unwanted relationship, becomes entangled in an assault case, but thanks to the business card given to him, he receives help from Woojin, who’s a prosecutor. Haewon feels uncomfortably guilty and tries to keep him at arm’s length, but Woojin is comfortable enough to take a few extra steps.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”