You'll only know how delicious a woman's flesh is once you taste it.

Lili was tied to a chair with her hands behind her back. "Hurry up and pee if you need to," I said. I checked my watch; the customers who had booked the whole roasted woman would arrive in three hours. Turning a living young girl into a whole dish was urgent.
She was sweating profusely from the fire in the oven—a necessary procedure. In the past, the whole roasted woman was made by removing her head, limbs, and internal organs, then using an iron rod to pierce her neck from behind and roast her over the fire—now it was just a roasted body. Now, the new method from abroad doesn't remove anything; there's even a special intestinal cleansing agent to make the person being roasted completely clean, and the intestines are cleaned after she urinates. But she showed no sign of needing to urinate. I sat to the side, smoking, impatiently waiting.

"Give me some water," Xiao Pi, who was wiping the women in the meat-woman circle, rushed out with a cup of water. In my haste, I roughly knocked the cup to the ground. Xiao Pi looked at me pitifully, saying nothing.
She was that kind of timid girl. I realized I'd frightened Xiao Pi, so I softened my tone and said, "Don't give her water. We're cleaning her now. The customers will be here at five." "But...but she's going to die soon,"
Xiao Pi said, looking at Lili with pity. "There's nothing I can do. She's really pitiful, but I have to do this." Suddenly, her father's words when he brought her to sell her echoed in my ears. "Boss, I know she has to die. I just beg you to give her a quick death on that day." But now, being made into a roasted human, tied to the oven to hold her urine, was just the beginning. Cleansing her intestines, she wouldn't die slowly in agony until she was roasted. I really don't know why out of more than ten women in the entire sex trade, she was chosen. Of the more than a thousand girls slaughtered over the past three years, she was the most adorable and loved to chat.

As is customary, the day before a woman is slaughtered, I ask her if she wants to enjoy sexual pleasure one last time. If she agrees, I can satisfy her because I'm young and healthy. If not, I will never force her—many women are still virgins when they are slaughtered. Lili agreed. After we made love, she couldn't sleep because she was going to be slaughtered the next day, and she talked to me a lot. She told me her story:

Half a month ago, she woke up as usual and found that her parents' expressions were strange. Like most ordinary families after the war, her family was poor, and she thought they were starving again. But there was hot water boiling on the stove. Her parents saw that she was awake and told her to take a bath. After the bath, her mother dressed her in the most beautiful clothes they had bought before the war. Suddenly, her father knelt down before her, and a string of guilt and apologies made her realize that she was going to be sold—in fact, many families in the neighborhood had sold their girls, but they didn't know where they were sold.

She agreed in a daze. Her father took her to the police station to complete some paperwork, and she even put her fingerprint on it—she still doesn't know that it was to cancel her household registration. After completing this paperwork, she would no longer be a human being, her life would be unprotected, and she could be slaughtered and eaten at will. I didn't tell her this; I didn't want her to continue to hate her father. After completing the formalities, she was forced to strip naked in public. Her father led her to a market, a sea of naked women. She was sold to us at my shop because she was easy to talk to.

After we bought her, I handcuffed her and led her into the kitchen. When she saw the human skin and the limbs of women on the meat racks, she understood and, like the other meat slaves, cried and screamed. After I talked to her, she quietly locked herself on the iron rack in the meat slave enclosure. As usual, the first meal for a newly bought meat slave was a very good cut of rump or thigh meat. After that, every meal was rice mixed with soup made from human fat—this diet, combined with very little daily activity, allowed the slender women bought from poor families to plump up within half a month, like nudes in famous paintings. Then they were ready to be slaughtered and eaten—any fatter and the flesh would become greasy. Lili was now just as plump, and therefore chosen; unfortunately, she was chosen to be roasted whole. When I asked her if she would hate me if I were the one slaughtering her tomorrow, she shook her head. She said she hated this hateful war, hated the incompetent and weak government after the war even more, and of course, those hypocrites who proclaimed humanitarianism yet ate human flesh.

Yes, how could I not hate this war? If it weren't for this war, I would still be an accountant now, perhaps even a father. But now—sometimes I'm glad my girlfriend died in the war, at least better than dying on a butcher's block. I don't like my job, slaughtering lovely, beautiful girls like sheep every day; I'm numb to it now. I quit? Then what am I supposed to do? Beg on the streets?

This war hasn't led to the extinction of humanity as the prophets predicted, but it's more terrifying, more like hell than the extinction of humanity. Countless men have become cannon fodder on the battlefield, while a few have become heroes and celebrities. The harm from biological weapons means that most newborn babies are girls. And these girls will grow to be around 20 years old in three to five years, with an IQ of around 20. Food supplies, however, have drastically decreased. The incompetent World Population Conference actually proposed slaughtering women for food to reduce population disasters. Although the proposal was not passed, people around the world competed to capture and slaughter women for food.

Our country was no exception. Even now, thinking back on it still terrifies me. At its worst, armed groups would storm into universities, abduct female students en masse, and then hold cannibalistic feasts. Women who were forced into prostitution due to war were even more vulnerable, becoming prey for various factions. Sometimes, armed groups and organized crime even fought each other to get women to eat.
Later, the armed groups and organized crime were mostly eliminated, and the government addressed the issue of cannibalism. Although we didn't want cannibalism to continue, the appetites of a few wealthy people and the large number of girls that most poor families couldn't afford to raise still couldn't be avoided. In the six months since the ban on cannibalism, the number of women eaten hasn't decreased much; in fact, the number of poor people starving to death has doubled. In desperation, the weak government could only legislate against cannibalism. The general rules stipulated that the slaughter and sale of human flesh could only be carried out in government-approved flesh processing plants and human flesh restaurants, and these approved businesses had to pay hefty monthly taxes—in reality, these taxes were a drop in the ocean compared to the price of human flesh, barely enough for two decent human skins on the black market. Furthermore, the sale of human flesh was limited to designated flesh markets, and when a girl was sold, her family had to take her to the local police station to cancel her household registration. This process required the family's signature and the girl's fingerprint before she could be sold to a human flesh restaurant.

Heaven knows how large the loopholes in this law were; those who could open human flesh restaurants and shops all had connections in the government. As for the procedures? It's safe to say that no young girl would agree to be sold to a human flesh restaurant. I've seen those paperwork many times; the descriptions are vague, and no one can tell it's for selling to a human flesh restaurant. Worse still, because human flesh trading is legalized, a new type of person has emerged in society—the "meat kidnapper," who abducts young girls and sells them to these restaurants. Of course, they need to go to the police station to complete the paperwork, but they drug the girls. When the police ask if the girl is a family member,
she mechanically nods, then puts her fingerprint on the document and is sold to the human flesh restaurant. Of course, the police aren't stupid. They realize it's unrealistic for these people to sell their daughters all the time, but the "meat kidnappers" often bring the girls to the human flesh market to entertain the police, and occasionally even treat these low-paid officers to meals at the human flesh restaurants—since the girls have already put their fingerprints on the document, turning a blind eye isn't a big deal; they're beholden to their employers.

I really hate these "meat kidnappers," but without them, our restaurant's meat supply would be halved.
Just like in the pre-war internet era, new terms are popping up like popcorn. For example, the "meat girl" mentioned earlier is a new term that emerged after the law restricted cannibalism. It refers to women whose household registration was revoked and who were sold to restaurants to be eaten. However, we only accept young women between the ages of 15 and 30. Any older and the meat becomes too old; any younger and they haven't grown enough to produce much meat. However, because newborn girls grow so fast, laymen can't tell the difference between a three-year-old and an eighteen or twenty-year-old, but we can. The girls who grow later have the intelligence of a 20-year-old but not the experience of a 20-year-old. They are curious about everything and show no shame or fear when they are stripped naked and sold to restaurants. They are also asked for consent to have sex on the first night after being slaughtered.

They would happily agree, touching her body and patting her head before slaughtering her, and she would even wriggle her bound body coquettishly—they knew no fear or death, as long as they were led to the human flesh market and passed the slaughterhouse so that the bloody scene of slaughtering did not stimulate them—they were also given a new name: new women; compared to these new women, Lili, Xiaopi, and other normally grown-up girls were much more difficult to deal with. If they were not helped to open up their minds, they would not only not gain weight, but would also become skin and bones within a week. Most human flesh restaurants did not understand this and simply slaughtered them after buying them.

Perhaps it's due to my profession? When I see girls, while admiring their beauty as women, I always subconsciously think about how they would be slaughtered, how easy it would be to skin them—that's what I see of Xiao Pi every day. Xiao Pi is a normally grown-up girl, 18 years old this year, of medium height, fair-skinned. She's become plump after a week in the human flesh trade, and now, because she has to serve those other women every day, she gets a lot of exercise and has a balanced diet, so she only looks slightly plump, but still quite well-proportioned. She's not particularly beautiful, but very endearing; she's somewhat introverted and timid, but very clever. Hearing that her parents were going to sell her, she secretly ran away from home, only to fall into the hands of a human flesh trafficker.

When I bought her, she had already been drugged and had her fingerprints taken. I was handing over the slaughter statement for the human flesh restaurants—they submit this statement to the police station every month for verification, and then report that the slaughter this month was normal and there were no criminal cases.
Her eyes were vacant; it was clear she'd been drugged. Suddenly, I realized she looked a bit like my deceased girlfriend. The policeman, signing the papers, said to the sex worker, "They're cracking down hard lately, so be careful." The sex worker grinned and flattered me. After the paperwork was done, he spread her legs like he was helping a child urinate, exposing her genitals to the policeman: "Officer, she's still a virgin. Want to have a taste?" The policeman, as usual, feigned reluctance and led her into the room—but this time, while the policeman was feigning reluctance, I touched her genitals: "Not bad. No need to go to the human flesh market, just sell her to me. I'll give you a good price for a virgin." The policeman was shocked, and the sex worker was at a loss—because I was also one of his major buyers. Finally, the sex worker handed the virgin to me, then said to the policeman, whose face was as red as a persimmon, "Tonight, please come to Xiao Chuan's place for some human flesh. Xiao Chuan will definitely make sure you break even." Then he forced a fake smile at me. After buying her a meal at the restaurant, she took a nap, then woke up crying and screaming. As usual, I tried to reason with her, trying to calm her down. Once she calmed down, I fed her the most delicious thigh and rump meat, and then had the little boy who looked after the human flesh market lead her into the market and lock her up.

If a girl must be a virgin, then Xiao Pi can no longer be considered a girl, because I took her virginity the day before I decided to slaughter her. But she was lucky; that day, the boss's daughter, Xiao Cui, came to the slaughterhouse to see me as usual, and was surprised to find her childhood playmate tied up on the meat counter. She quickly asked me to untie her, dress her, and take her to see the boss. The boss was also surprised to find that the baby he used to hold had grown so much, and decided to spare her. Tong Tong, who looked after the human flesh market, was fired for violently raping the women, causing them to lose weight. So, she took over serving the women, feeding them, urinating on them, and bathing them. Therefore, she was the woman I had the most contact with every day (excluding the women themselves, of course). Xiao Pi was only 15 when she was sold, and now she's 18 and even more adorable. Because of our past relationship, there's a certain ambiguity between us. She's practically the only woman in the entire human flesh kitchen who isn't naked, but she doesn't seem to mind me too much. Sometimes it's especially hot—like today when I was cleaning the women, the fire in the stove was blazing, and Xiao Pi was only wearing underwear, her full, beautiful breasts on full display. Since I was waiting for Lili to pee and had nothing else to do, I smoked while admiring Xiao Pi, my eyes, of course, carrying the look of a butcher—but she's not afraid. If I were to slaughter her, she would have died three years ago.

As I admired her, a stream of urine flowed from between Lili's legs, who was tied to a chair nearby—she had finally urinated. I pressed on Lili's lower abdomen to help her empty her bladder, then untied her. Next, I tied her hands behind her back, and Xiao Pi and I lifted her onto the meat counter, made her kneel on it, and pressed her head against the counter, raising her buttocks. After securing her legs and head, I took a tube of bowel cleanser, opened both plugs, connected one end to the water pipe, climbed onto the meat counter, straddled her back, aimed at her anus, and inserted the other end of the bowel cleanser. As Lili screamed, I told Xiao Pi to quickly turn on the tap. Xiao Pi hesitated before turning on the tap, and Lili began to scream and struggle, but because her head and legs were secured and I was straddling her back, her struggles were completely useless. Her stomach gradually swelled up—if a few minutes ago I still saw her as a person, now her screams only made me think of her as a lump of flesh.

"Bigger, bigger!" Her screams echoed as her belly swelled larger and larger. My madness made my heart race; if it shortened my lifespan, then God would have mercy. Who made me do this? But did I want to do it? But what else could I do? Lili, the meat I'm processing... if you want to hate, hate me. If you become a ghost after you die, take my soul with you. So what if you go to hell? It's just a release from hell on earth. Hate! Hate your weak, incompetent father, hate this deformed society, and that cursed war. Without that war, I would still be working as an accountant; maybe I would already be a father. Kim, my girlfriend, I envy you dying in the war—at least it's better than dying on a butcher's block. Kim, is hell good? Wait for me, I'll be there for you soon.

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