Trapped in a Tomb, Why Are These Experts Force-Feeding Me?

chapter1 The storage room behind the convenience store was cold and damp. The air carried a strange, almost metallic smell—like death had just passed through. The ceiling pipes dripped water onto the floor, tiny splashes echoing in the quiet. Fluorescent lights flickered with a soft “zzzt,” casting uneven shadows across the walls. I crouched on the floor, tearing open a box of braised beef rice. The plastic container clattered softly as I set it on the ground. My phone buzzed. A WeChat message lit up the screen: [Chen Mo: We’re moving into the new place tomorrow. Come have dinner?] Oh. Them again. I glanced at the box of food in my hands, and memories of my last life flashed before me. That “farewell dinner”—I had brought hot soup, careful not to spill a drop. Chen Mo had smiled at me, gentle and warm: “You can fight better than Weiwei. Help us hold the line, okay?” And then—he and Lin Wei shoved me straight into the horde of zombies. I watched them retreat to safety while I got my ankle torn apart. Lin Wei screamed: “Run, Chen Mo! She can take it!” —But I couldn’t. This time? I wasn’t going to be the one who “can take it.” I stared at the shelf of braised beef rice again. Coincidence? Fate? Who cares. I carefully emptied a packet of laxatives into the box. Bon appétit, my dears. My lips curved into a calm, almost serene smile. The storage room door creaked open. The sharp click of high heels echoed, and a wave of perfume and irritation hit me—Lin Wei was storming in. Same sweet face, same poisonous mouth. “Zhao! My lipstick—where is it?! Hurry up! I’ve got dinner with Mo!” I looked up at her, voice steady like talking about the weather: “It’s in the blue crate marked ‘special item.’ Grab it yourself. My hands are dirty.” She scowled, cursed under her breath, and stomped deeper into the shadows of the storage room. I watched her disappear, silent, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. This was just the beginning. My phone rang again. Chen Mo. “Zhao, I bought your favorite—braised beef…” Braised beef, again? How touching. I whispered under my breath, flat: “Shame. You should’ve saved it for your funeral.” I hung up. A scream cut through the air. “AAAHHHHHH!” The growls of zombies mingled with the cracking of bones. Lin Wei, for once, sounded truly afraid. Another call. Chen Mo. “Zhao! My stomach—it hurts! Someone’s at the door! They’re banging! What did you do?! Help me!!” I didn’t move. The light flickered again. I slipped my hand into my pocket, brushing against the handle of the fruit knife. Warm. Steady. Memories of my past life flashed through my mind—blood, fear, betrayal, helplessness. This time… I was in control. I stood up slowly, knife in hand, its blade catching the dim light. If last time I was a pawn being pushed around, now… I was the player. The wind stirred the curtain near the window, a low, eerie whistle filling the room. The temperature dropped slightly, as if even the air sensed my resolve. I drew a slow breath, eyes cold and focused— This time, they would understand what it means to have a “surprise dinner” waiting for them. Bon appétit.