My girlfriend Nora Nelson’s childhood friend Miles Brooks and I got bound by some kind of “transfer system.” Everything he eats gets transferred to my stomach. Miles started a livestream account and made tons of money by eating nonstop for twelve hours straight, while I ended up in the hospital with acute pancreatitis. When I told Nora what was happening, she looked at me like I was an idiot and said, “There’s no such weird thing in this world. If food could transfer like that, nobody would ever starve to death. I think you’re just jealous that Miles is making money from livestreaming.” After that, every time Miles went live, I’d end up hospitalized with pancreatitis, each episode so severe I could’ve died. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. They even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Later, to compete with another streamer, Miles devoured 10 pounds of whole wheat spaghetti in one go, and I died from a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment when Miles first started livestreaming. This time, I got ahead of him and ordered twenty takeout meals. Then I said, “This time, I’m eating first.” On my phone screen, Miles had just finished a whole fried chicken, and I immediately felt full in my stomach. But I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all day. Looks like I was right. Even though I’d been reborn, nothing had changed. Everything Miles ate would still end up in my stomach. While I was panicking, Miles brought out a huge bowl of spaghetti with a large bottle of Coke beside it. Looking at the screen, he said, “That chicken was just an appetizer. Now I’m starting on the main course.” A voice from off-screen kept exclaiming, “Oh my God, Miles, you’re incredible! I couldn’t finish all that food in three days and nights!” Seeing Miles about to bury his face in that bowl bigger than his head and start wolfing it down, I immediately grabbed my car keys and rushed out. I absolutely couldn’t let him keep eating. Otherwise, I’d die again. On the way, I used my phone to order another twenty takeout meals. This time, I was going to figure out what the hell he was up to. My car quickly pulled up downstairs at Nora’s place. The takeout arrived around the same time I did. I grabbed the food and rushed upstairs, knocking on Nora’s door. When she saw me, Nora looked annoyed. “What are you doing here? Are you spying on me again? Miles is livestreaming right now. Don’t cause trouble! “Just leave. Miles is having a great time eating. If you scare away the viewers, I won’t forgive you!” In my previous life, after graduation, Miles moved straight into Nora’s place, making excuses like, “Just staying temporarily until I find a job and have money to move out.” I thought it was inappropriate, but Nora argued back, “I’ve known him since we were kids. If there was something between us, how could I possibly be with you?” Later, Miles decided to start livestreaming online. To support him, I followed his account too. But that’s when strange things started happening. Every time he went live, my stomach felt like it was stuffed full, swelling to the point of bursting. Eventually, I ended up hospitalized with pancreatitis. Pancreatitis is caused by eating too much, and severe cases can be fatal on the spot. I told Nora about this, but she didn’t believe me at all. She said I was just jealous of Miles. Since she was helping Miles run his account, she wouldn’t let me get close afterward, afraid I’d interfere with their money-making. Meanwhile, I was suffering terribly at home, getting taken away by ambulances multiple times. The doctors kept advising me not to risk my life over food. Later, Miles competed with another streamer. They both had to eat 10 pounds of whole wheat spaghetti at the same time, and whoever finished first would win. As a result, I died from a ruptured spleen and massive internal bleeding. After I died, I saw Miles beat the other streamer, become the most popular streamer, and embrace Nora happily. Even in death, I couldn’t understand why this was happening. So this time, even if it meant dying together with him, I wouldn’t let him succeed.
I appeared directly in the livestream, interrupting Miles’ ongoing competitive eating broadcast. I held up the twenty takeout orders in my hands and said to him, “Miles, you can’t keep eating like this. Too much food is bad for your health. Let me help you eat some of this while you take a break.” Miles looked up from his food container, completely bewildered. “Nolan, I’m livestreaming right now. Can you please not mess around?” Nolan Martin is my name. I squeezed in front of the camera, putting my face fully in view. I’d dressed up specially before coming, and I was already much better-looking than Miles anyway. Miles was still just a small-time streamer with no real fame, so his stream didn’t have many loyal fans. When everyone saw me, they started commenting in the chat that they wanted to watch me do the eating broadcast instead. Miles couldn’t curse me out on camera, so he had no choice but to get up and give me his spot. I first pulled out a box of fruit that was mostly mangoes. Miles was allergic to mangoes and couldn’t eat them at all. I bought this specifically to test whether this “transfer system” worked both ways. If I ate something he couldn’t eat, would he have an allergic reaction? I finished the entire box of mangoes, and the chat was praising how good I looked while eating. Some people even sent big gifts. I smiled at Miles. “Looks like the audience prefers watching me eat. But don’t worry, I just suddenly felt like trying this today. All these gifts are yours – I don’t want a penny.” Miles was annoyed about being upstaged. But I kept staring at his face, watching for any allergic reaction. Except for looking a bit angry, he showed no abnormal symptoms at all. Maybe one box of fruit wasn’t enough. I pulled out a mango smoothie and a huge mango cake. Miles tried to win back the audience, saying, “Nolan, my streaming career is just getting started. If you want to livestream, use your own account. Why do you have to take over my stream? Just step aside and let me eat. If that doesn’t work, we can both eat and compete to see who can eat more.” As he spoke, he reached for the spaghetti to continue stuffing it in his mouth. I snatched the spaghetti away and showed it to the camera. “I’m doing this for your own good. This spaghetti has so much chili pepper – it’s definitely going to hurt your stomach. And you want to wash it down with ice-cold Coke? Do you know how many stomach problems start exactly like this? If you want to eat something, have some clam chowder instead. That’s much healthier.” I found a container of clam chowder from the takeout and handed it over. Seeing how thoughtful I was, the audience praised me for being not only handsome but also kind. They sent more gifts and told Miles to rest, saying they all wanted to watch me eat instead. Miles wanted to ask Nora for help, but she was staring at the gift revenue on the backend, grinning happily. As far as she was concerned, as long as money was coming in, anyone could do the streaming – especially since I was earning more than Miles. I forced myself through the stomach discomfort and finished both the mango smoothie and the mango cake, but Miles still showed no reaction whatsoever. In the past, if he had even taken one bite of mango, he would immediately break out in a full-body rash and his face would swell up. Damn it! I hadn’t expected this “transfer” to be one-way only. Everything Miles ate would transfer to me, but what I ate wouldn’t transfer to him. I felt my stomach was completely full and couldn’t eat another bite, so I waved my phone at the camera. “It’s getting really late now, everyone should go to sleep. Staying up late is bad for your health. Hope to see you all again sometime!” After saying goodbye to the audience, I turned off the livestream directly. Back in my car, I pulled out a plastic bag and threw up everything I had just eaten.
By the time I drove home, it was already late at night, but I couldn’t sleep at all. If I couldn’t figure out what was causing this within a day, my life would be in constant danger. As I lay in bed tossing and turning, a sudden wave of intense discomfort hit my stomach. I dry-heaved desperately, but nothing came up. The feeling was just like being forced to eat food I hated as a kid. I rushed to the fridge and grabbed some ice cream, hoping to ease the nausea. But after eating the ice cream, I found it had no effect whatsoever. That’s when something suddenly occurred to me, and I quickly opened my phone. Sure enough, Miles was streaming again! He said to the camera, “I’m going to eat some big chunks of bacon for you guys. Hope you’ll send some gifts.” Miles held a piece of bacon in his hand, eating it with obvious enjoyment. Even through the phone screen, I felt sick to my stomach. I angrily typed in the live chat: [Stop eating! Just watching you makes me nauseous!] Seeing my comment, Miles flashed a smug smile: “Who do you think you are? Just because you tell me to stop, I have to stop? Let me see your sincerity first.” The uncomfortable feeling grew stronger and stronger. I quickly sent several super car gifts, hoping to make him stop. But after taking my gifts, Miles didn’t stop at all. Instead, he pulled out a large bowl of mayonnaise. He said, “Since you don’t like me eating bacon, I’ll have something sweet instead.” Mayonnaise was pure fat—no different from eating straight lard. He scooped it into his mouth with a big spoon while I felt so nauseous I nearly threw up blood. I couldn’t help but comment: [What the hell did you do? Why are you the one eating, but I’m the one suffering? Stop eating! Don’t eat anything else!] Seeing my anguished comments, Miles laughed even more maniacally. My stomach suddenly cramped with excruciating pain. With my last bit of strength, I dialed 911. Fortunately, the ambulance arrived in time and pulled me back from hell-like agony. Just like in my previous life, I ended up with acute pancreatitis from overeating. Looking at my medical records, the doctor said in confusion, “How could you possibly eat that much food?” I didn’t answer. I had the doctor process my discharge papers, then immediately rushed to Miles’ house. The moment the door opened, I pulled out a knife and held it to Miles’ throat. Miles jumped in shock: “Nolan, what are you doing? Calm down!” I didn’t want to waste words with him, glaring at him viciously: “I don’t have the patience to waste time with you. Tell me honestly—why are you the one eating, but I’m the one suffering?” Miles put on an innocent expression: “What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean.” I pressed the knife a little harder: “Stop playing dumb! Talk!” Miles’ face went pale with fear: “Calm down! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” But the next second, he suddenly screamed: “Nora, help me!” It turned out Nora had quietly snuck up behind me. She kicked me to the ground and snatched the knife from my hand. She said angrily, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Then Nora immediately started a live stream and placed thirty hamburgers on the table. She said, “You claim that everything Miles eats gets transferred to your stomach, right? Let’s have the viewers witness whether what you’re saying is true.” The viewers didn’t know what was happening and flooded the live chat with questions. Nora explained: “My boyfriend has lost his mind. He says everything Miles eats gets transferred to his stomach. I’m asking everyone to witness this today. If he keeps acting crazy, I’m breaking up with him.” Miles picked up a hamburger and bit into it without hesitation. That familiar feeling of fullness immediately hit me—my stomach couldn’t take this kind of torture anymore. The pain grew more intense, and I couldn’t hold on. I collapsed on the floor, convulsing. Someone in the live chat reminded Nora: [I think this guy is faking it. Slap him a couple times and he’ll cut it out!] Nora looked at me coldly: “If you keep up this act, I’m breaking up with you!” I clenched my fists and slowly stood up against the wall, forcing a smile as I said, “I’m not faking it. It’s just gastroenteritis acting up—stomach pain, that’s all. Don’t I have the right to get sick?” With Nora right here conducting her livestream, there was nothing I could do but leave. But Nora wouldn’t let me go and made Miles finish all the remaining burgers. She said, “Don’t deliberately cause trouble again. Consider this a lesson.” Back at the hospital, the doctor angrily asked why I was eating recklessly again, wondering if I had developed binge eating disorder, and mentioned arranging psychological treatment. I smiled bitterly. Truth was, I hadn’t eaten properly in days, yet my stomach always felt bloated. This time the doctor wouldn’t discharge me, insisting I stay for treatment. I followed the doctor’s advice and stayed put in the hospital. But within a few days, I felt Miles binge eating again. I opened his livestream and saw Nora taking him to dine out, ordering everything on the menu. Then my phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message from Miles: [Nolan, Nora took me out of town this time. There’s so much good food here. I don’t want to waste it, so I’m going to finish everything.] I was furious—I wanted to fly there immediately and kill Miles. Just then, I suddenly noticed the medication the doctor had prescribed me. In that instant, I understood the truth behind everything. The moment I figured it out, I was so thrilled I jumped right out of the hospital bed. Over the next few days, Miles livestreamed from various restaurants, causing quite a stir online. His appetite was incredible—he never purged, yet maintained his figure perfectly. Other streamers weren’t having it and challenged him one after another. Miles accepted the challenges and decided to compete against a streamer with millions of followers in an eating contest in a few days. In my previous life, I died at home right after this competition. But this time, I lay leisurely in my hospital bed, peacefully recovering and waiting for discharge. Soon came the day of the competition. Miles’s livestream instantly drew over ten thousand viewers. Ten large bowls sat before him, each filled with whole wheat pasta. When he was about to start eating, his expression turned pained, and he unconsciously put down his fork. Seeing his opponent already eating, Nora grew anxious and urged, “Miles, hurry up! He’s already started.” Miles nodded through his discomfort, preparing to eat again. But suddenly he clutched his stomach and doubled over. Just as Nora was about to ask what was wrong, Miles let out an incredibly loud fart in front of over ten thousand livestream viewers. The next second, a foul stench filled the air. Miles collapsed. Watching this scene, I couldn’t stop grinning. Soon, Nora’s call came through. She demanded, “What did you do?” I smiled slightly and said, “Take a guess.”
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