I died, then came back to life, and after that I ate everything in sight;
I munched away for ages and grew up;
Why is someone inviting me to eat every day? And giving me ingredients, too?
Confused but happy, I opened my eleventh eye and used my arthropods to pick ingredients off the "human" lying on the stretcher~
My seven arthropods are a little asymmetrical and not very useful. I’ll try hard to grow some better hands~
A pollution-stream brainchild story, indescribable;
Still no CP, I can’t write romance;
An ensemble cast, probably a food story...
Theme: Do it yourself and you’ll have enough to eat.
