Carnival Chef (1): Willing to Be Served as an Ingredient?

My fingers froze mid-type on the keyboard.

I let my imagination run wild for a second. Me, turned into an ingredient. Used as food and eaten by someone. Come to think of it, animals had always been in this eat-or-be-eaten cycle. Humans just happened to climb to the top of the food chain on Earth, exempting ourselves from the rule. But if something superior to humans showed up? We'd have no choice but to follow the laws of the wild.

From a cosmic perspective, humans were just insignificant little specks anyway. So if we were destined ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to end up as food for some higher being someday, wouldn't it be better to become a delicious dish?

I was about to type [Yes] when a sudden thought hit me.

But wait, I'm a cute girl, aren't I?

That's right. I was a cute girl. Thanks to the Cute Girl Mod, I'd become the cute girl protagonist. This wasn't narcissism—it was straight from the mod's description, an objective fact. I was a pretty, adorable cute girl.

But where did the definition of "cute girl" end? Say they chopped off my head. Without a head, could you still call it a cute girl? No face—how could that be cute? Where would my cuteness go? My beauty?

What if they diced my face like vegetables? Sliced off my neck for deboning, skinned me, cut the cheeks from my face and fried them in a pan? Would that be a cute girl? Cute girl meat? Cute girl cuisine?

No. That wouldn't be a cute girl at all. As the cute girl protagonist, I couldn't become an ingredient.

"Mayuri."

Thud. A weight settled on my shoulder.

"Mayuri."

"...Huh?"

I turned slowly. Ari had her hand on my shoulder. Her face was blank as ever, impossible to read. Or maybe she wasn't thinking anything at all. No pride, no nothing—just a beast I was raising at home. On par with a cat, maybe. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠At least she recognized the person who fed her. That was a small mercy. And she had surprisingly good instincts, better than your average cat in that regard.

Oh.

"W-Wait a sec... What the hell was I just thinking?"

I shook my head. Glanced back at the computer.

Rat? Pigeon? Bat? Deer? I'd never even tasted any of them. Never once thought about wanting to eat human flesh.

So what was I about to do?

"Argh, seriously..."

I slammed the popup shut.

...This was an anomaly. The kind that polluted your mind.

I must've gotten hooked by that 660,000 won reward.

Ha.

"...This is fucking impossible."

This was a horror game world. You could get dragged into anomalies just breathing wrong. Escaping this isekai was all about smarts. Even if I had to grit my teeth, I'd get out of this dump for real. I swore it again that day—back to the original world.

I closed the browser, but the sticky unease lingered.

Hmm... Too many monsters that fit the bill...

Monsters accessed through the internet were varied, and ones that inflicted mental corruption even more so. No clue which anomaly I'd stumbled into. Could've been something minor.

Maybe just a random event?

Horror games threw in these creepy pop-up events now and then. Probably the devs' way of building atmosphere and tension.

...Though it made the game fatigue reviews pretty harsh.

Was it really just a harmless event? Or the real deal? I'd have to watch and see.

But I decided not to worry too much. Freaking out now wouldn't help my mental state.

Besides, I had my "cute girl punch." If shit hit the fan, one punch from me, one from you—fair trade.

"Ari."

"?"

"...Let's sleep together tonight."

Not gonna lie, I was a bit spooked, so we shared a blanket. Made me glad I'd brought Ari inside.

...Alone, I'd probably have trembled all night without sleeping.

Poari might look human, but how much help was that fly bitch really? Still, she could at least serve as a guard dog or meat shield.

...If she couldn't even manage that, you'd be an ungrateful brat. I fed you and raised you, after all.

I slept like a baby and woke to morning. Nothing happened. Ari just whined beside me, "Stuffy. Hungry."

I kept an eye out just in case, but nothing by lunchtime.

Just a minor event after all...?

Or maybe a delayed reaction. I left possibilities open.

To others, I looked like a 142cm flat-top middle schooler cute girl, but I was an intelligent one despite appearances. There's that saying about tigers and keeping your wits—if you stay sharp, you survive.

So no letting my guard down. Right after lunch, I headed to the store.

"Gonna go shopping, so behave."

"Yeah."

It was 1 PM. Bright daylight, sun ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blazing. No monster attacks in this weather. People everywhere, so I timed it for the supermarket.

Curry for dinner? Grabbed curry powder, potatoes, meat, carrots... Nah, skip carrots. Never got why people like them. If it's for color, fine, but delicious? No.

Singleton cooking doesn't need plating or aesthetics. Just taste, quantity, and desire. Dump in what you crave, balance be damned. If you hate it, ship me to a free cooking school.

Chop the meat big and hearty.

"75,200 won."

...Overdid it; receipt was a scroll. Supermarket runs always hit 50k. Can't be helped—too lazy for multiple trips, and now two mouths to feed.

This haul should last a while. No store this week.

So thinking, I stepped out.

And the world's sound vanished.

"...Huh?"

I blinked. Dark. Just dark. Not a sealed room, thankfully. Eyes adjusted; faint light illuminated the space.

Rows of tables. Chairs lined neatly. Forks, knives, wet cloths on tables. Chairs all occupied.

Including mine.

"Wh-What the...? Where am I?"

"I was... definitely home."

"Am I dreaming...?"

About 20 of us, including me. All dragged here suddenly, faces confused.

Then pop—lights flicked on ahead, revealing the shadows.

"Urgh... Uuugh...!"

A kitchen. Open-style. Knives, ladles, spatulas neatly arrayed. Stovetops, massive pots for bulk cooking.

And a man tied up. Mouth gagged with cloth, arms and legs bound spread-eagle.

"What...?"

"Some magic show?"

"No, no way..."

I clamped my mouth shut instinctively. I knew exactly what came next.

Forced, mechanical synthetic voice. Uncomfortable to parse, yet weirdly cheerful.

Up close, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a recorder sat by the stove.

"Huh...?"

"Murderer?"

Everyone blinked. I debated closing my eyes.

Crack! The man's arm came off. Sliced with a kitchen knife—a cleaver five times a normal Chinese chopper.

"Aaaagh!"

The gagged man screamed. Crack! Crack! The monster dismantled him with massive swings.

Faceless horror. Its "head" was irregular, lumpy flesh—like mixed modeling clay. No eyes, no nose. A slight depression vaguely suggested a mouth.

Slash—gutted the belly. Blood sprayed mercilessly. The monster was mechanical, unfazed. Switched to a small knife, carved out innards.

Plop, thud—organs piled on the board. Lungs, liver, small intestine. Meticulous, careful disassembly. Sometimes crunch as it tore bones for deboning.

The man couldn't resist. The monster looked like fused meat chunks. Bloated body, tendon-bulging arms near-muscular. Even unbound, no winning in strength.

Eyes gouged, tongue yanked, ears and nose sliced. Skin peeled, meat left—done.

"KyaAaAaAaK?!"

"Monster...! It's a monster!"

"P-People died... C-Call the cops...!!"

Guests screamed; the place erupted in chaos.

I sighed amid it all.

"...Shouldn't have gone out."

What luxury did I think I'd get leaving home? Should've stayed put... Ordered delivery, money be damned.

But who expects monster kidnapping in broad daylight?

Wish I'd brought Ari at least.

But couldn't be helped...

"Ari whines she's hungry every time we shop together..."

...I just wanted to cry.