I never imagined that an ordinary late-night meal could tear my life apart.
That night, I ordered some "wild game" at a roadside food stall. The owner said it was "good for the body." I ate it. The taste was strange, but I didn't think much of it. Then, in the middle of the night, I started vomiting. What came out was a piece of human skin marked with teeth.
From that day on, my body began to change in bizarre ways: my sense of taste twisted, my body temperature dropped, and I developed an uncontrollable craving for "flesh and blood"... Worse still, I could hear those "dishes" whispering in their bowls. They were crying, begging me to stop.
I swear, what I ate wasn't human flesh. So why has a mouth that isn't mine grown inside my stomach?
To uncover the truth, I follow the stench of blood into the city's darkest underground den: the "black-market kitchen." There, people are raising "humans," selling "souls," and setting their sights on me as their next target.
This is a nightmare about desire, mutation, and the limits of humanity.
What I ate really wasn't human flesh, was it?
Or... have I stopped being human?
