Food blog

Account: Notsure_food
Privacy Setting: Public

Entry 01 — Vanfylion, Zianllo Night Market

“Blue-Fire Noodle Cup”
Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Temperature: 93°C. Possibly higher.
Vendor claims it “ignites the spirit.”
Objectively, it ignited my throat.

Texture: slippery, predatory.
Noodle attempted escape twice.

Result: sweating, mild hallucinations, heartbeat irregularity.

Would I eat again?
Yes.
I was faster than the noodle by the end.
I can win next time.

Entry 02 — Delivered via Space-Chase

“Galaxy-Batter Pancake Stack”
Rating: ★★★★☆

Ordered using someone else’s account.
It arrived in 4.2 star-ring minutes.
The driver was efficient.
I gave him 5 stars.
I’d like to order from this company again in the future.

Taste: excellent. Warm. Sweet.
Emotional effect: calming.

Mild nausea afterward.
Worth it.

Entry 03 — Vanfylion District 6

“Spiced Nebula Dumplings”
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Shape: suspicious.
Colour: iridescent, possibly venomous.

I ate four.

My mouth is numb.
My arms are numb.
I believe my soul is also numb.

Overall: would not recommend.

Entry 04 — Zianllo Back Alley Vendor

“Crimson Jelly Skewer”
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Vendor said it was “alive with flavour.”
Actual status: alive.

It pulsed when bitten.

Reaction:
• stomach pain
• sweating
• feeling of being watched
• possible psychic residue

I suspect this food was sentient.
I apologised to what is left of it and performed a ceremonial burial.

Ending note: regret.

Entry 05 — Unknown Chemical Beverage

“Black Sun Energy Shot”
Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆ (negative)

Purchased because the advertisement said:
“YOU WILL ASCEND.”

I wanted to see.

I blacked out for 41 star-ring minutes.
Woke up on the floor.

I do not recommend this drink.

Yet I am curious about the blue flavour.

Entry 06 — Zianllo Fusion Booth

“Golden Nebula Soup”
Rating: ★★★★★

Light, fragrant, perfectly balanced.
Taste reminds me of something I do really want to remember.

Warm.
Safe.

After eating, I felt briefly like the universe was kind.

The feeling did not last.

But it was real.

I will remember this one.

Neutral Planet — Vanfylion

Zianllo Safehouse (1 Star-Ring Day Later)

Lan sat cross-legged on the creaking sofa, scrolling the local food-review network to soothe his anxiety.

He nearly dropped the tablet.

“Wait—WHAT? Notsure_food updated again!”

Yao didn’t look up from calibrating stolen equipment.
“You ate alien sewer-boil yesterday. I forbid you to find inspiration today.”

Lan ignored him.

“This reviewer is so weird—it’s beautiful. Listen:

‘Bioluminescent Skewer. Toxicity: mild. Two hours of gastrointestinal distress. Rating: four stars.’”

Yao’s eye twitched.

“Mild?? Two hours??”

Lan waved him off. “This blogger has survived more food poisoning than the entire sector combined.”

Chen—quiet at the counter—looked mildly interested.

“Is the reviewer Teleopean?” he asked.

Lan shrugged.
“Impossible. Teleopeans don’t eat things that glow and wiggle.”

Chen took a sip of water.
“…True.”

Lan scrolled happily.

“One day I want to meet this blogger. He’s practically a legend.”

Chen blinked slowly.

He said nothing.

Yao massaged the bridge of his nose until his skull creaked.
“I need alcohol. The kind that erases memories by the mouthful.”

The door beeped.

Chen stepped out briefly—

—returned holding a steaming takeout container.

Yao went rigid.

“…Chen,” he whispered. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

“I ordered a food delivery,” Chen said calmly.

Lan shrieked, “YOU LET A DRIVER SEE OUR LOCATION?!”

Chen placed the container gently on the table.

Yao snatched the digital slip Chen held out.

One look.

He died inside.

“You tipped MAXIMUM??”

“The driver was very polite,” Chen said.

“You don’t tip CRIMINAL TRANSACTIONS.”
“You don’t REVIEW them.”
“You don’t MAX TIP them.”

Chen looked thoughtful.
“I didn’t review him. Just the food.”

“THAT IS NOT BETTER.”

Lan peeked into the container—
paled instantly.

“…Is that… breathing?”

Chen picked up a lavender, glossy, wiggling piece.

Yao lunged.
“DON’T—”

Chen already swallowed it.

Three seconds later his expression went:

neutral → puzzled → disturbed → profoundly unwell.

Then—

A horrible sound erupted from his core, like a dying whale attempting opera.

Chen bent over the waste bin—

BLUUUURGH.

A shimmering bioluminescent arc splattered inside.

Lan screamed.
“It’s SPARKLING—WHY IS IT SPARKLING—”

Chen wiped his mouth.
“…Not bad.”

“NOT—BAD?!” Yao howled.
“YOU JUST VOMITED SOMETHING BRIGHT ENOUGH TO BE A NIGHT-LIGHT.”

Lan leaned in and gagged.
“…Did it have teeth?”

Chen hiccupped weakly—
it echoed like a failing engine.

Yao put both hands on his face.

“You are BANNED. No more markets. No more apps. No more wiggling food. No more spending money. No more decisions.”

Chen nodded.
“Understood.”

Another violent hiccup.

Lan: “Oh stars—HIS STOMACH IS GLITTERING—”

Yao, flat and dead:
“When this is over, I’m buying tracking collars for both of you.”

Chen, sincerely:
“That would have helped the delivery driver.”

Yao screamed into his palms.

The door suddenly slammed open.

Thunder boomed.

Xiao’s large frame stood dripping rain, cloak torn, breaths sharp with urgency.

His eyes locked onto them.

He held up a holo-slate.

A crimson imperial red-tier execution order burned across the room like an omen.

Lan froze mid-gag.
Yao’s headache evaporated.
Even Chen straightened despite the nausea.

Xiao spoke—voice raw, shaking:

“You are not going to like this.”