They all call me Great Master - Chapter 11 - 9 Visitors. Part 2 (Please follow~ Please favorite~)

Eshwar is the name of the author who transmigrated into his own novel after his death. Eshwar’s death was caused by his own magic which he had yet to control. Why? because I didn't think I would seriously die!!!!

Anyway.... my novel's protagonist is a selfish person. why you ask? because I wrote him and I wanted him to be like me. Muhahahaha, ha.

I reincarnated into my novel!

and that to as a villain who dies in the first half, will I stand still and die?

Of course not, I may have reincarnated as a villain but its not like I will live like he did.

I'll live my life as I want! and kill all the other villains.

Why? because I love the world I created, hahaha, ha.... (real reason: I love to fight.), who else will get the chance to look at the world they have created?

System I created is messed up for some reason and is doing everything on its own!!???

we'll see how it turns out with everything messed up, well(sigh...)

Oh, but because i have reincarnated as a villain, I got a new problem and that is,

I'm handsome (sparkles), I have to say, handsome people have their own problems.

“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

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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.”