The texture of the noodles became increasingly unbearable, nauseating, completely inedible! Yet, he couldn't vomit them out.
It was as if an invisible force was compelling him, forcing him to eat, to finish it, no matter how disgusting. Otherwise, he wouldn't survive. He would starve to death.
The sourness and bitterness rapidly spread. Swallowed with the slimy paste, it slid into his throat, bringing a sharp, stinging pain that made him take a deep breath. It was mustard. The mustard choked him, and his eyes reddened.
Gasping frantically, he turned his head and let out a huge sneeze, nearly tearing up.
How many years had it been since he had been in such a sorry state?
This familiar bitterness and sourness, along with the pain in his chest... Every mouthful was like eating mud and stones. His body and throat resisted.
But he had to eat... He must eat it! Otherwise, it would all be over.
In a daze, a voice full of mockery resounded once again.
