Glutton Boy Bound Me to a Food Transfer System

As I watched Daniel Miller devour an entire bucket of fried chicken on my phone screen, a heavy wave of fullness hit my stomach. The feeling made no sense. I hadn't even had a sip of water all day.

It seemed I had been right. Even though I had been reborn, nothing had actually changed.

Whatever Daniel ate still transferred straight into my stomach.

While I was still frozen in shock, Daniel took out a giant plate of spicy aglio e olio. A half-gallon bottle of soda sat beside it.

"That chicken was just a warm-up. Time for the main course," he told his viewers.

Off-camera, someone gasped. "Oh my god, Dan, you're insane. I couldn't finish that in three days."

Just as Daniel was about to bury his head into that plate bigger than his face, I grabbed my car keys and bolted out the door.

I couldn't let him keep eating. If he did, I would meet the same end all over again.

On the way, I pulled out my phone and ordered 20 takeout meals. This time, I needed to figure out exactly what he was up to.

I reached my girlfriend Chloe Bennett's building just as the delivery drivers arrived. I grabbed the bags and hurried upstairs, pounding on her door.

She opened the door with an irritated look. "Why are you here? Are you checking up on me again? Dan's streaming right now. Don't start anything. Just go. Dan's in a great mood eating, and if you scare off the big spenders in his chat, I swear we're done."

In my previous life, right after we had graduated, Daniel had moved into Chloe's apartment. He said it was only temporary until he found a job and could afford his own place. When I told her the arrangement felt inappropriate, she immediately snapped at me for even bringing it up.

"Daniel and I go way back. If anything were ever going to happen between us, you wouldn't have even been in the picture."

Later, Daniel threw himself into competitive eating streams, and I followed his account, trying my best to be supportive.

That was when the nightmare began. Every time he went live, my stomach swelled as if it had been stuffed to the brim, like it was about to split open.

Eventually, I ended up in the hospital with pancreatitis.

The doctors said it was caused by extreme overeating. Severe cases could kill a person outright.

When I told Chloe what was happening, she didn't believe me. She even accused me of being jealous of Daniel.

Since she helped run his channel, she kept me far away, terrified I would interfere with their income.

Meanwhile, I kept collapsing at home in unbearable pain, hauled off by ambulances more times than I could count. Doctors warned me again and again not to throw my life away with this eating disorder they thought I had.

Then Daniel tried to beat a major streamer in an eating challenge. They each had to finish ten pounds of mashed potatoes, and whoever finished first won.

My spleen and stomach ruptured on the spot. I bled internally and died.

With my soul still lingering in the world, I watched Daniel celebrate his victory. He was crowned the new king of competitive eating, with Chloe wrapped in his arms, glowing with joy.

I died with no answers. So in this life, even if I had to take him down with me, I wasn't letting him walk away victorious.