Humanoid Breeding Farm

On my eighteenth birthday, I was sent to a breeding farm. They gave me a number: for meat. Shelf life: three months. Here, people are divided into two categories. One category is "feed", which is ripened in batches and sold on time. One type is "pets", which are raised, trained, and dressed up for the entertainment of their owners. I was supposed to be fodder. But three days before I was released, I discovered one thing: the news that the "pet people" brought back from the owners were all false. Outside the farm, there is another world. A world that only belongs to "pet people". And I know how to get in. "The system says I'm for meat. Then I'll let the system know that the feed will also bite."