My name is Emily Howell. My boyfriend Ivan Fuller’s friend Anna Lakin has bonded with some kind of transfer system where everything she eats gets transferred to my stomach. She started a livestream account and ate non-stop for twelve hours straight, making tons of money. Meanwhile, I ended up hospitalized with acute pancreatitis. When I tried to explain this to Ivan, he looked at me like I was an idiot. “Where in the world would something so bizarre exist? If food could transfer like that, no one would ever starve to death. I think you’re just jealous that she’s making money from streaming.” After that, every time Anna went live, I’d end up hospitalized with pancreatitis, sometimes even fighting for my life. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn’t find any cause and nearly treated me like a psychiatric patient. Later, Anna decided to compete with another streamer and wolfed down over twenty hot dogs in one go. I suffered a ruptured spleen and died from internal bleeding. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to Anna’s first livestream. This time, I ordered twenty takeout meals in advance. This time, I’m eating first! Watching Anna finish an entire fried chicken on my phone screen, I felt full in my stomach. But in reality, I hadn’t eaten anything all day. It seems I was right. Even though I’ve been reborn, the situation hasn’t changed. Everything Anna eats still goes straight into my stomach. Just as I was panicking, Anna brought out a huge plate of spaghetti with a large bottle of Coke on the side. “That chicken was just an appetizer. Now for the main course,” she said sweetly to the screen. A voice off-screen kept exclaiming, “Oh my God, Anna, you’re amazing! You can eat even more than me!” Seeing Anna about to start eating, I immediately grabbed my car keys and rushed out the door. I absolutely cannot let her continue eating, or I’ll be facing death again. On the way, I ordered another twenty takeout meals. This time, I’m going to figure out exactly what kind of trick she’s playing. The car quickly stopped downstairs from Ivan’s place, and the takeout arrived almost simultaneously. I grabbed the takeout bags and rushed upstairs, knocking on Ivan’s door. When he saw me, his expression showed some impatience. “What are you doing here? Coming to cause trouble again? Anna’s livestreaming right now, so don’t make a scene. “Just leave. She’s having a great time eating. If you scare away all the viewers from her stream, I’ll never forgive you.” In my previous life, Anna moved into Ivan’s place after graduating from college, claiming it was “temporary” until she found a job and could afford her own place. I thought it was inappropriate, but Ivan argued back: “We grew up together. If we liked each other, we would’ve gotten together long ago. Would it be your turn?” Later, Anna decided to livestream eating online, and to support her, I followed her account too. That’s when the strange things started happening. Every time she went live, my stomach felt like it was being stuffed full, as if it might burst open. Eventually, I ended up in the hospital with pancreatitis. This condition is caused by eating too much, and in severe cases, it can even cause immediate death. I told Ivan about this, but he didn’t believe me at all and said I was just jealous of Anna. Since he was now responsible for managing the account with Anna, he wouldn’t let me get close under any circumstances, afraid I’d interfere with their money-making. Meanwhile, I was suffering at home, getting taken away by ambulances multiple times. The doctors even advised me not to risk my life over food. Later, Anna competed with a big streamer in a hot dog eating contest to see who could eat more. I suffered a ruptured spleen and died from massive internal bleeding. After I died, I saw Anna beat that big streamer and win the title of competitive eating champion. She and Ivan embraced happily together. Even in death, I couldn’t understand why this was happening. So this time, even if we go down together, I won’t let her succeed.
I burst straight into the livestream room, interrupting Anna’s meal, and held up the twenty takeout orders I’d brought with me. “Anna, you can’t keep eating like this. Too much food is bad for your health. Let me help you eat instead—you should go rest for a bit,” I said. Anna looked up, completely bewildered. “Emily, I’m livestreaming right now. Stop messing around, okay?” I squeezed into the camera frame, making sure my face was fully visible. I’d put on makeup before coming here, and since I was naturally thinner than Anna, I looked much better on camera overall. She was just a small-time streamer with hardly any fans in her chat. After seeing me, the comments started flooding in, saying they wanted to watch me eat instead. Anna couldn’t make a scene on camera, so she had no choice but to get up and give me her spot. I first pulled out a fruit box that was mostly filled with mangoes. Anna was allergic to mangoes and couldn’t eat them at all. I’d bought the mangoes to test whether this transfer system worked both ways. If I ate something she couldn’t have, would she react? After finishing the box of mangoes, the comments were all praising how well I ate, saying it was satisfying to watch, and some viewers even sent me several expensive gifts. I smiled sweetly at Anna. “Looks like everyone prefers watching me eat. But don’t worry—I just had a sudden urge to try this today. All these gifts are yours; I don’t want a penny.” Anna was clearly unhappy about having her spotlight stolen. Meanwhile, I kept staring at her face, watching for any signs of an allergic reaction. But aside from her anger, she showed no reaction whatsoever. Maybe one box of mangoes wasn’t enough. I pulled out a mango smoothie and a mango cake. Anna tried to stop me. “Emily, my streaming career is just getting started. If you want to livestream, use your own account. What’s the point of hijacking mine? Just step aside and let me eat. If that doesn’t work, we can both eat together and see who can eat more.” As she spoke, she reached for the spaghetti to continue stuffing it in her mouth. I snatched it away and held it up to the camera. “I’m doing this for your own good. This spaghetti has so many chili peppers—it’s bad for your stomach. And you’re washing it down with ice-cold Coke. You’ll get stomach problems eating like this. If you really want to eat something, have something lighter.” I found a box of bland food from the takeout orders and handed it to Anna. The viewers, seeing how considerate I was, praised me for being beautiful and kind-hearted. They sent me more gifts and told Anna to rest, saying they all wanted to watch me instead. Anna wanted to ask Ivan for help, but he was currently staring at the gift revenue on the backend, grinning from ear to ear. As long as money was coming in, it didn’t matter who was streaming—especially since I was earning more than Anna. Fighting through the discomfort in my stomach, I finished all the mango products, but Anna still showed no reaction. In the past, just one bite of mango would make her break out in hives immediately, and her face would swell up badly. Damn it. This transfer was one-way only. Everything she ate would transfer to me, but what I ate wouldn’t affect her at all. My stomach felt stretched to its limit, and I couldn’t eat another bite. I waved my phone at the camera. “It’s getting really late now, everyone. You should all go to bed. Staying up late is bad for your health. See you next time!” With that, I ended the livestream. As soon as I got back to my car, I grabbed a plastic bag and threw up violently, vomiting everything I’d just eaten.
By the time I drove home, it was already late at night, but I couldn’t fall asleep at all. If I couldn’t figure out what was happening within a day, my life could be in danger at any moment. Just as I was tossing and turning in bed, a wave of intense nausea suddenly hit my stomach. I dry-heaved desperately, but nothing came up. The feeling was as awful as when my parents forced me to eat the fatty meat I hated most as a child. I rushed to the fridge and grabbed an ice cream bar, trying to ease the discomfort. But after eating the ice cream, things didn’t get better. That’s when I suddenly remembered something and immediately opened my phone. Sure enough, Anna was livestreaming again. She said, “I’m going to eat some fatty meat for everyone. Hope you all send some gifts to encourage me!” She held a piece of greasy fat in her hand, eating it with obvious relish. Even through the screen, I felt sick to my stomach. I angrily typed a comment: [Stop eating! That’s disgusting!] After seeing my comment, Anna flashed a smug smile: “Who are you? Why should I listen to you? Show me what you’ve got then.” The nauseous feeling grew stronger, so I reluctantly sent her several expensive gifts, hoping she would stop. However, after accepting the gifts, not only did she not stop, but she brought out a large bowl of mayonnaise. She said, “Since you don’t like me eating fatty meat, I’ll have something sweet instead.” She spooned it into her mouth one after another. The greasy sauce was no different from the fatty meat. I felt like throwing up just watching. I kept sending messages: [What did you do to me? Why are you the one eating, but I’m the one suffering?] [Stop eating, don’t eat anything else!] Seeing me desperately typing comments in pain, Anna laughed even more wildly. My stomach suddenly cramped with severe pain. I used almost the last of my strength to call for an ambulance. Fortunately, the ambulance arrived in time and saved my life. Just like in my previous life, I developed acute pancreatitis from overeating. The doctor looked at my medical records with surprise: “You’re so thin, yet you managed to eat this much?” I didn’t respond, just asked the doctor to process my discharge. Then I immediately rushed to Anna’s house. As soon as the door opened, I pressed a kitchen knife against her throat. Anna stammered incoherently: “Emily, what are you doing? Calm down!” I had no patience for her nonsense and stared at her coldly: “Don’t play dumb with me. You’re the one eating, but I’m the one suffering, right?” Anna put on an innocent face: “What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean.” I gripped the knife tighter, my voice low and menacing: “Stop acting. Talk!” Anna’s face went pale with fear: “Calm down, I’ll tell you.” The next second, she suddenly screamed: “Ivan, help me!” Ivan caught me off guard and attacked from behind, kicking me down and snatching the knife from my hand. He roared: “Are you insane?” He immediately started a livestream and placed thirty hamburgers on the table. He said, “You claim that when Anna eats, you’re the one who suffers? Perfect. Let the viewers witness whether what you’re saying is true.” The viewers in the livestream had no idea what was happening and kept asking questions. Ivan explained: “My girlfriend says that whatever Anna eats transfers to her stomach. Today, everyone can be witnesses. If she keeps making trouble, we’re breaking up!” Anna picked up a hamburger and stuffed it into her mouth without hesitation. The feeling of fullness and pain hit me instantly. My stomach was already overwhelmed, and the severe pain made me barely able to stand. I collapsed on the floor and started convulsing. [No way, why do I feel like this woman is acting? People like her just need a beating.] Someone in the livestream left a comment to remind Ivan. He looked at me coldly: “If you keep pretending, don’t blame me for what happens next.” I clenched my fists and struggled to stand up against the wall, forcing a smile as I said, “I’m not faking it. It’s just menstrual cramps. Are menstrual cramps not allowed either?” Ivan was livestreaming at that moment, so I couldn’t do anything except leave this mess behind. But he wouldn’t let me go and made Anna finish eating all the remaining burgers. He said, “Don’t cause any more trouble from now on. Consider this a lesson.” After returning to the hospital, the doctor helplessly questioned why I had gone out to eat again, suspecting I had binge eating disorder and even suggesting I see a therapist. I let out a bitter laugh. The truth was, I’d barely eaten anything these past few days, yet my stomach always felt full. This time the doctor wouldn’t discharge me, insisting I stay in the hospital for treatment. I followed the doctor’s advice and stayed put in the hospital. However, within a few days, I felt Anna binge eating again. I opened the livestream and found Ivan taking Anna to an Italian restaurant out of town, where they had ordered practically everything on the menu. At the same time, I received a message from Anna: [Emily, Ivan took me out of town this time. There’s so much delicious food here, I don’t want to waste any of it. I’m going to eat it all.] I was furious, wishing I could fly there immediately and tear Anna to pieces. Just then, I suddenly noticed the medication the doctor had prescribed for me. In that moment, everything clicked. I finally understood what was really going on. The instant the truth dawned on me, I was so excited I jumped right out of the hospital bed. Over the next few days, Anna frequently livestreamed visits to different restaurants, attracting quite a bit of attention online. She could eat an incredible amount without ever purging, yet still maintained her figure perfectly. Other competitive eating bloggers were skeptical and challenged her to contests. She accepted their invitations and decided to compete against a blogger with millions of followers in a few days. In my previous life, it was right after this competition that I died alone at home. This time, I lay comfortably in my hospital bed, peacefully recovering and waiting to be discharged. The day of the competition arrived quickly, and over ten thousand viewers flooded into the livestream. Anna sat in front of more than twenty hot dogs. As she prepared to start eating, her expression looked uncomfortable, and she instinctively put down the hot dog. Seeing that her opponent had already started eating, Ivan panicked: “Anna, hurry up and eat! Your opponent’s already started.” Anna nodded, forcing herself through the discomfort, and was about to pick up the hot dog again when she doubled over, clutching her stomach. Just as Ivan was about to ask what was wrong, she let out a loud fart right in front of over ten thousand viewers. The next second, a foul stench filled the air, and she collapsed unconscious on the spot. Watching this scene unfold, I couldn’t stop grinning. Soon, Ivan’s call came through: “What the hell did you do?” I smiled slightly: “Take a guess.”
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