Xia's shop.
After breakfast, Xia Yu didn't change into his uniform to go to school, instead he took a phone call in the branch's courtyard.
"Thank you for your trouble, Miss Dubian."
"I have done as you requested."
On the phone, Dubian Yuuki spoke with caution, "The outside world must be in an uproar by now. I suggest you close the shop for a few days, otherwise you will encounter a lot of trouble."
Miss Dubian's words bore an implication.
The youngest special-class chef ever in Neon.
Of course, Xia Yu wouldn't admit to being so-called local chef—his nationality was evident.
But this cover title was enough to bring on hatred, more practical than any warrior's taunting skill.
Soliciting hatred was a matter of helplessness.
Why do sensational headlines thrive? Because they grab attention, triggering clicks and interest. Unlike those unprincipled headline grabbers, Xia Yu was simply stating a fact that had happened, full of integrity.
He was already a special-class chef.
