Mr. Huang looked around the table, observing the food on each plate. Some had braised meat, some ate sweet and sour ribs, and others enjoyed the internal organs.
But all of these combined made up an animal… No, a human being!
Watching these people eat with relish was like taking a bat to the head. For a moment, Mr. Huang wondered if he was having a nightmare.
Angrily standing up, Mr. Huang shouted, "Lao Mu, I think of you as a dear friend, yet you’ve brought me to such a place! From now on, we’re no longer friends!"
Turning to everyone else, he accused, "Take a good look at what's on your plate. You’re eating human flesh!"
Several newcomers were so frightened they spat out their food. In truth, the organizers cleverly arranged their seating so the newcomers couldn’t see what was served to the old members. Additionally, the food served to the newcomers was properly processed so they couldn't tell they were munching on human body parts. If it weren't for the fact that Mr. Huang was sitting next to Mr. Mu, he wouldn't have gained a grand view of the woman relishing a human eyeball.
Several waiters surrounded him, their eyes unfriendly. It seemed like they were prepared for strong-arm tactics.
"If you dare touch a hair on my head..." threatened Mr. Huang.
Right then, the host took to the stage and told them not to panic. "The gentleman is right,” he smiled. “The food you are enjoying now is something you’ve never tasted–human flesh! We eat everything, so why not humans? All of you here are social elites, those who stand at the top of society. Ordinary people are like cattle and horses to us. If we can domesticate cattle and horses, we can consume humans! What are secular rules and taboos for those who really dominate the world?”
These heresies won a thunderous applause from the room, excluding Mr. Huang who turned to leave in a pique.
However, Mr. Huang was stopped by the host. Although his tone sounded polite, his words carried the shadow of a threat. If he dared leave the room, the host couldn’t guarantee what his men would do for the safety of the club and everyone else.
"Can't I leave if I don’t have an appetite?" seethed Mr. Huang.
"Since you’re already here, how can you leave without at least tasting the food carefully prepared by our chefs?"
"Why should I? You just said secular rules and taboos are nothing to people like us. I’ll eat what I want. No one can force me into doing something I don’t want to do!"
As he made his stance clear, Mr. Huang scanned the room, noticing several newcomers who looked frightened, possibly unable to accept cannibalism like him, but hesitant to stand up against the host. Mr. Huang hoped to win some "allies.”
Lost for words, the host shed all pretense of cordiality. "Mr. Huang, you must have a bite, or you won’t be able to leave!"
The waiters were eager to get started, like tigers eyeing their prey. Mr. Huang sighed, well aware of his own vulnerability. Sitting back down, he placed his napkin on his lap, reluctant to tuck into his meat. But under the watchful eyes of the other guests, he had no choice but to take a bite.
As soon as the meat came into contact with his tongue, what he tasted wasn’t unpleasant or gamey. On the contrary, the meat was soft, juicy, crisp yet tender, more delicious than any delicacy Mr. Huang had ever tasted–a fact that chilled him to the bone. He couldn’t believe he would think human flesh was this delicious!
The host seemed to see through his thoughts, "What do you think, Mr. Huang? Even a selective man such as yourself can’t find any faults with it, can you?"
Despite the resistance he felt, Mr. Huang sliced the meat, devouring piece by piece, hands shaking the entire time. Succumbing to such unrivaled delicacy, he finished the entire plate of meat in the blink of an eye.
Much to the host’s relief, this matter came to an end and the guests continued with their meal.
After dinner, Mr. Mu approached Mr. Huang, "What do you think, Lao Huang? Has it opened up a brand-new world for you? In fact, I was just as scared as you when I first tried it, but the taste..."
"Stay away from me!” snapped Mr. Huang. “We’re not friends anymore."
He was filled with disgust for their repugnant behavior and his own, agonizing over an indescribable inner torment. Excusing himself to the restroom, he dug his fingers down his throat and threw up everything he had eaten, even bile. Only then could he live with himself.
Mr. Huang decided to leave at once and report their actions to the authorities upon returning.
When he looked up, he noticed a camera in the corner, and his heart sank within him like a plummet of lead. The organizers had long expected newcomers to resist by vomiting their food. As soon as he left the restroom, there were several waiters coming for him.
Squeezing through the crowd, he desperately fled, causing chaos and panic among the guests. Perhaps wracked with guilt, Mr. Mu deliberately overturned a table, blocking the waiter and buying Mr. Huang a few seconds so he could escape.
With his heart in his mouth, Mr. Huang fled down a corridor where two guards were chatting at the end. Mr. Huang clutched at his chest, feigning a heart attack without so much as batting an eyelid. "Help me! I’m having a heart attack. If I die here, there’ll be a lawsuit waiting for all of you!"
When asked if he had any medicine with him, Mr. Huang pointed behind him and said, "Get my assistant. He’s wearing a white suit."
One of the guards immediately left while the other stayed behind to take care of him. Right then, a command rang from the guard's headphones, “Area C! I repeat Area C! There’s an old man trying to escape. Stop him!"
Gritting his teeth, Mr. Huang slammed his walking stick into his guard's face, breaking his nose. With a painful scream, the man collapsed, giving Mr. Huang an opportunity to knock him out with his walking stick.
Despite successfully making it out, Mr. Huang was dismayed to find himself at the foot of a mountain. It was already late at night and pitch dark but he had to escape before the others caught up.
He tore through the wilderness, chased by the sound of running engines. Lying down in the grass, he waited for the car to pass, heart pounding against his chest.
After slipping through those guards, Mr. Huang chanced upon a young man in the outskirts of the city–Two Scar.
Although Two Scar ripped him off, he also saved his life which was why Mr. Huang refused to file charges against him.
At the end of Mr. Huang’s story, I had to admit my admiration for his wit and bravery. As the saying goes, like father, like daughter. Xiaotao had inherited her father's extraordinary courage, but instead of exercising it in the marketplace, she used it to uphold justice.
As he recalled last night's events, Mr. Huang was dominated by a profound sadness. Wrapping his hands around his face, he said, "The scariest thing about all of this is the fact that I found human flesh delicious! Am I a perverted savage as well?"
“Mr. Huang, it’s not your fault,” I sighed.
I proceeded to explain about the poisoned wine. It only took Xiaotao and me one glass for the effects to appear. On the other hand, Mr. Huang had been poisoned for six months.
“Lao Mu, Lao Mu! That bastard! I must have been blind to call him my friend!" exclaimed Mr. Huang.
Having unraveled the inner torment, Mr. Huang grabbed both our hands and urged, "Xiaotao, Xiao Song, these people are cannibalistic demons. They must be stopped!"
"Don’t worry, Mr. Huang,” I assured him. “We will bring these criminals to justice!"