MTL - Repairer - Chapter 4 brother and sister

Shirou only had the best intentions that night he chose to cast aside his ideals. Now trapped in a strange world where Gods, Angels & Devils run rampant, he's about to learn just what kind of road said intentions have built...provided he can finish his second year without accidentally kick-starting another Holy War.Translate and writing awesome fanfics..

-------------------------------------------------
MC: I am a dragon? Cool!
Also, MC: Wait, most of the dragons died after centuries of being hunted for their expensive materials, and when beings called players descended with their powerful systems and immortality, they hunted down rest of them ... and I am the last one... I am fucked!!!
-------------------------------------------------
Join our MC, a former player on his journey not to become a legendary rank item, in a world of the game that he used to play.
-------------------------------

He is handsome, arrogant and is of the elite class. Being straightforward and brave, she shamelessly pursued him, sending him gifts, flowers and tried to get close to him. She was humiliated when his staff gossiped about her and retreated. Then he rejected her and told her they could only be friends. She avoided him but no matter how much she tried, they frequently cross paths.

Suddenly one day he told her. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

What a mess! ! !

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.”