
They Say the Bread of a Small-Fry Villainess Will Save the World
νΌλΌλ―Έ μ μμ λΉ΅μ΄ μΈμμ ꡬνλ€λλ°μ
I was reincarnated into a ruined romance fantasy novel.
Here, Iβm not even the villainess. Iβm just a pathetic nobody.
Iβm the stepsister who torments the heroine, and they say Iβm a really nasty piece of work who even hits the protagonist.
If things go on like this, Iβll have everything taken from me and starve to death on the streets.
They could have just killed me in one go, why are they starving me to death?
Itβs too much.
Before I die, Iβll somehow quietly, on my own, try to live well.
I used my skills from my past life and quietly opened a bakery.
As expected, a full-bellied and safe pig is the best.
But then.
βIsnβt this practically my shop? My share is 80 percent.β
A scones-obsessed merchant guild leader who demanded a 40 percent interest.
βHand over the bread.β
An overly sensitive and prickly egg tart-obsessed mage tower master.
βThe usual, please, Ellie.β
A baguette-obsessed knight commander with a dark soul despite his angelic appearance.
βWhere were you, Ellie? Iβve been looking for you.β
Even the heroine, who ran away from home to find me. Why are you all gathered here�
This isnβt a cafe, you troublesome customers.
βIs there a shop that kicks out customers?β
βWe donβt welcome rude customers (prayer).β
βGive me more bread.β
Excuse me, are you guys obsessed with me, or with the bread?