Food War Game Novels & Stories

This time, she didn't chase after me. When I reached the corner, Isabelle sent me a message. "Mr. Rayner, tomorrow's team building activity is a mystery box game. Are you joining? I heard everyone is guaranteed to get something!" After reading the message, I suddenly smiled and replied. "Sure." The next day, during the company's team building event, I drew a small card. The words on it were not "Thanks for participating." They said, "Today's Lucky Winner." My coworkers laughed and cheered.

“And we going to watch him play?” “Apparently.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “What sport?” “Football.” “Cool,” he said casually, and went to opened the fridge, looking inside even though there was barely anything there."I'm hungry as fuck. Can we order something?" "Of course," I reached for my phone again, ready to order in. "Nah, I got it." "Its fine. I will—" Zaire cut me off firmly. "I said I got it." He stared straight at me, his brows pulled tight together like he was daring me to keep pushing.

Ingrid's First-Person Point of View "I will never regret it," I said in an unwavering voice. The family dinner fell into a sudden, heavy silence. Samuel Ziegler's hand, which was still gripping his fork, trembled as he stared at me. I maintained a calm, composed expression. Then, without warning, he threw the fork aside and snatched up the divorce papers. He signed his name on it without hesitation and hurled both the papers and the pen at me.

Shane’s voice was steady, though his hands clenched tightly. “She looked out the window when the voice said not to. They don’t like it when you disobey.” “The what?” Shane didn’t answer her question right away. His eyes lingered on the girl with the rose blooming from her mouth, then slowly turned back to Farrah. “The ones who run this… whatever it is… they call it a game,” he said quietly. “But it’s not a game anyone wants to play.” Farrah’s hands clenched into a fist… “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

He gestured lightly with his left hand and a small nod, indicating that I sit at the table he had arranged. I turned away from him and walked round the rectangular setup, sitting where he had been earlier. He smiled, placing himself where he had indicated for me. Effectively giving me a win, while at the same time, blocking the exit. I didn’t look at him. Instead, I focused on the table filled with foods from at least three different cultures, from sushi to pasta to some soup or other, of various sorts. “Help yourself. I’m sure it’s been a long day,” he commented pleasantly.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re even human, the way you move pieces around as if they’re just… pawns.” Montez leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “That’s because they are pawns. I’m the one holding the board.” Enzo sighed, adjusting his tie. “Fine. Then let’s talk about the shipping division for our weaponry and drugs. Fuel costs are rising, the unions are threatening to strike, and if they do, your Mediterranean routes will—” Buzz...... The vibration against Montez’s desk cut through Enzo’s voice. His eyes flicked to the phone, irritated by the mindless interruption. Only, it was anything but mindless as a headline glared back at him in bold black letters:

Amber's stomach growl loudly thus she turn on the electric cooker and begin preparing instant noodles using tasty ingredients like carrots, onion and dried prawns, within minutes the noodles was ready to be served. Amber rinse the flat plate and cutleries then she uses the bigger kitchen fork to dish the noodles into the plate, after this she set the plate on the tray and turn chilled watermelon juice into a clean glass. After turning on the LED flat screen television, Amber sit on the armchair and uses the remote to sort through her YouTube d******d list, she click on "Novoland: Pearl Eclipse" a a Chinese drama and started watching from episode five. She begin to eat the noodles delicately

"Plus, during meals, you're fussy about your foods not touching. You put the meat on the upper left side of your plate, vegetables the upper right, and carbs and grains on the bottom. You did it at my parents' house and on my first night at your place, before you left for Europe." She sipped her coffee, managing to look regal even while drinking from a paper cup. "Control freak," she summarized. Reluctant admiration swept through me. "Impressive." l'd been particular about my foods touching since I was a child. I didn't know why; the sight and texture of mixed foods just made my skin crawl. "It comes with the job," Vivian said. "Event planning requires strong attention to detail, especially

he shrugs. I nod and he continues. "He got really mad, he tried not to show it, but when it gets competitive, it's hard for him to. I suggested we go to some fast food place, with faster service, so we could have more time to get lit that night, it was a win-win situation. He got mad, guess what he did." I shake my head. "This crazy fucker rents out the whole fancy restaurant, has the chef make us something not on their menu, burgers, but like, fancy burgers. It was hilarious, that man does not like to lose." Liam laughs.

* I wiped the blood off my face, my eyes turning as cold as ice. I finally understood the essence of this game. Play the White Moonlight? Die. Play the Maid? Die. Play the Family? Die. As long as you are "human," as long as you approach him with a goal, you are a dead end. Because in his eyes, "human" is synonymous with betrayal. I want to win. So I can't be human. "System," I gripped the hourglass tightly. "I don't want a physical body." [Player Halen, your request violates the rules.]