Late Night Takeaway: Hidden Crisis and Mysterious People

The desire for the hot dog prevented me from entering the breakfast shop. So, I just drove to work.

When I arrived, I pulled Aaron over to a corner and asked him where he ordered the hot dog from.

But he just pushed my hand away and said in a low voice, "What are you talking about? I told you I didn't order any takeouts for you! Besides, how could any store be open at that time?"

After saying that, he quickly distanced himself from me.

I felt restless the whole morning and couldn't help but keep thinking about the delicious hot dog I had last night.

The more I thought about it, the hungrier I became. My saliva kept flowing out. If I hadn't been wiping it the whole time, I'm afraid it would have flowed down my chin.

At noon, I ordered the hot dog from all the restaurants on the food delivery app that served hot dogs.

A dozen servings of hot dogs were placed in front of me. However, just smelling them made me want to throw up.

The fishy smell really made me dizzy, and when I smelled carefully, there was a faint stench.

I suppressed my nausea, picked up one of the hot dogs and tasted it. Before swallowing it, I couldn't stand it any more and rushed to the bathroom.

I felt an extremely itchy feeling in my throat, as if something was wriggling and slowly crawling through my throat, trying to get out.

My own imagination made me feel so sick that I vomited.

A piece of Frankfurter fell into the toilet.

I didn't pay attention to it and got up to flush the toilet.

Once the churning in my stomach disappeared, the feeling of hunger came up again, but I had no appetite at all for the delicious food I had eaten before.

It was completely different from the one I had last night. One bite of this hot dog almost killed me.

All day long, I could barely drink water.

Stumbling into the elevator of my apartment, I planned to go home and make myself a hearty meal.

As the elevator doors slowly closed, a woman suddenly said in a soft voice, "Please hold on."

A woman in a light grey knitted skirt entered the elevator while thanking me for holding the elevator.

I pressed the button on the sixth floor for her.

The woman was slightly surprised. "You know where I live?"

I smiled. "I live upstairs, and I often see you going in and out to buy groceries."

The woman nodded and said nothing more.

I stopped talking to her, but my eyes were always fixed on her involuntarily.

She smelled a similar aroma to the hot dog I ate last night...

The saliva slipped down from the corner of my mouth.

The woman looked back at me in surprise and disgust.

I nodded slightly at her and clenched my mouth tightly to stop the saliva from flowing out.

She forced a smile at me and hurried out of the elevator.

I closed the elevator door reluctantly after she disappeared from my sight.

A week later, I made several cuisines.

But the only thing I could do about these dishes was to look at them without any expressions or interest in eating.

After working in the kitchen for an hour or so, the smell of oil smoke almost penetrated my bones, and some of the dishes had already gone cold with thick layers of grease solidified on them.

It was even disgusting to look at.

I couldn't eat anymore but forced myself to sleep.

At the same time, my doorbell rang.

I opened my eyes instantly, stood up and walked to the door.

Bending down, I put my eye to the peephole.