They Re Made Out Of Meat

At the start of apocalypse, humans transform into zombies or the human-eating undead monsters. I heard their cries of suffering and fear. Also, the world set new rule called "survival of the fittest". Fortunately, Gods pity on them and give them superpowers to fight back but .... why is it that zombies are ignoring me?! (」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣ And, wait! Why are these zombies vomit when they bite me?! Am I not edible?!!(◎_◎;)

He moved too fast—Maya could barely keep up. She thought he’d be rough, especially after all her teasing, but the bed beneath her was soft. “You…” One second Dae was above her, the next he was between her legs. Fabric tore. Cold air kissed her exposed skin. She gasped. “I’m going to eat you,” he said, dead serious. His once-dark eyes now glowed scarlet, his teeth sharp, inhuman. If he were anyone else, she’d be screaming. “You can scream.” He remind her. With one flick of his tongue, he was tasting her. “I’m going to eat you,” he warned again. “Please…” she gasped. “I want it.” ⸻ After witnessing a ghoul brutally devour a man, Maya West knows one thing: ghouls are monsters. Flesh-eating, merciless zombies. Dae-Soon is a ghoul—and he’s unapologetic about it. Rich, famous, and irresistible, he could have anyone. But when Maya storms out of his concert in disgust, he’s hooked. She hates his kind. He doesn’t care. He wants her—and he’s going to have her.

I applied for a popular online job as a personal chef. I thought I'd be cooking simple, home-style meals, but I quickly found myself trapped in a world of surprises. The food they were craving was me, served on a platter. The wealthy women were looking for excitement, torturing me night after night. But what they didn't realize was, the real thrill came when the dogs turned on each other.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

I sell burritos in a horror game. All the ghosts would come to my place and buy a tasty burrito after they got off work. That was until one day, my ex-husband, who was obsessed with abusing me, joined the game as a player. He brought a group of people to my store and trashed the place. They ruined all the ingredients I had. When the Bosses finished their overtime and saw their pre-ordered burritos on the ground in pieces, their eyes became dark, and they were immediately infuriated. The Patchwork Monster was so angry that the stitches on its body were beginning to break. It started ripping the players apart. The Eight-Armed Maiden’s hair fanned out and pierced many players. The Wedding Dress Maiden suddenly became a giant and started eating the players one by one. The Bosses were willing to work overtime and maintain the operations of the dungeons overnight just so that they could have a burrito. That night, all the players were sleeping when they were forced to join a horror game.