NOVEL NEXT Chapter 65: Meat Tower (Part 1)
Miyuki was riding a carriage back to Purravale. The horses pulled her through beautiful fields of green grass and dense forests, the sound of reins snapping filling the air as the driver urged them faster.
Miyuki sat in the back, fuming about Kai and Mei. "That stupid brother and sister…" she muttered, drawing small circles on her thighs in an attempt to calm her frustration.
Under her finger she could feel the fishnets and the warm softness of her skin. Her ears and small white tail, sticking out of the specially designed hole in her bunny suit, twitched with anger and betrayal.
After some time, Miyuki arrived at the city. The carriage stopped right in front of the chapel.
She opened the carriage door and lowered one long, elegant leg onto the small step, then placed her other leg on the stone path.
Walking briskly, she approached the chapel and pushed the doors open. As she entered, her white hair caught the shifting hues of every stained-glass window she passed.
She threw open the doors of her office and walked inside. Going to one of the cabinets, she grabbed a green vial, several kunai, and a knife.
The moment she finished gathering her weapons, she headed back toward the carriage. "I hate you both…" she grumbled before stepping back inside. "Go!" she shouted.
The driver snapped the reins, and the horses broke into a gallop.
After a few minutes they reached a clearing, and before them stood the Meat Tower. It was a massive structure, made entirely of flesh. It pulsed faintly, proving it was alive.
Miyuki stepped out of the carriage, glaring at the Meat Tower with disgust.
The driver glanced at her confident face, full of silent determination. "Minister… are you sure you want to do this alone?" he asked.
Miyuki didn't even look at him. "Yes!" she declared, striding toward the building.
The driver sighed and nodded, letting her do as she wished.
"You fools…" Miyuki muttered as she walked toward the mass of flesh and muscle. "I'll kill you!" she shouted at last, standing before the entrance.
She drew her knife, tied to her belt, and pulled out the vial of poison nestled between her breasts. She poured the green liquid along the blade, then stepped into the beast's maw.
The moment her foot touched the floor, the fleshy doors closed behind her with a wet sound. Everything inside reeked, slime dripping from the ceiling and running down the walls.
Miyuki glanced around, expecting an attack. She looked right, then left. As soon as she looked left, she saw a massive tongue rushing toward her like a wave.
She raised her knife instantly, and the tongue slammed down on her. Miyuki stabbed it, pumping it full of poison. The tongue trembled violently, then retreated.
"Did you think I wasn't expecting that?" Miyuki asked smugly, lowering her blade.
Just as she let her guard down, another tongue rose behind her. It slammed onto her with its full weight, pinning her against its sticky texture.
"Ah…" Miyuki gasped. Her knife flew from her hand, sliding out of reach.
The tongue began dragging her backward toward the stairs it had emerged from, but Miyuki grabbed the wall with one hand.
The pull grew stronger, the stickiness unnaturally powerful as it tried to drag her upward.
Suddenly the tongue slipped from her bunny suit and latched onto her fishnets instead.
"You… won't…" Miyuki growled, barely clinging to the wall as her legs grew slicker and slicker with saliva.
Her fishnets, once tightly hugging her legs, began sliding down, exposing more of her skin. Her heels had already fallen off, stuck fast to the tongue's surface.
"…" Miyuki tried to hold on, but her hand kept slipping. Just as she thought she would be swallowed whole by the fleshy tower, she tore herself free from the tongue's grip and crashed to the ground.
Her breathing was ragged, her heart pounding with adrenaline and fear of death. Her fishnets were half torn off, leaving most of her legs exposed.
"Pervert!" she spat, glaring at her own legs while struggling to catch her breath. She grabbed the fishnets and ripped them apart.
Threads of nylon snapped one by one, curling against her skin before recoiling and falling into the slime. The floor beneath her shimmered faintly, and as the stockings unraveled, her bare legs gleamed in the damp air, skin smooth and pale against the darkness.
Her thighs were the first to be revealed, a perfect blend of softness and tone — when she shifted, the muscles beneath pressed faintly against the skin, carving out elegant lines.
A droplet of sweat, or perhaps slime, slid slowly down the inside of her thigh, tracing its way downwards.
Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her soles pressed against the slick floor, toes spreading delicately to adjust to the treacherous surface.
The slime clung between each toe, stringy and translucent, making every tiny movement look indecently slow. When she shifted her weight, the gentle arch of her foot flattened against the ground.
She pressed her foot down harder, heel first, the tender softness colliding with the chill beneath. The shock rushed upward like an electric current, her toes curling instinctively as her body responded, a shiver racing along her calves and thighs.
Her foot was a masterpiece on its own — the skin smooth, almost glossy from the sheen of slime that clung to it.
Her toes, slender yet delicately rounded at the tips, curled and stretched with slow precision, the soft pads pressing into the slick surface and leaving shallow impressions that vanished the moment she lifted them.
Thin strings of slime stretched between each toe, shimmering before snapping and dripping down the graceful curve of her arch.
The arch itself rose high and elegant, veins faintly visible beneath the pale skin, giving it a fragile yet refined beauty.
Her heel, plump and tender, contrasted with the taut lines of her foot, the soft flesh dimpling gently under the pressure of the floor.
Her chest rose and fell with each breath. She cast one last glance at her legs, then turned toward the staircase, climbing to the second floor with determination to slay the beast.
She was climbing the stairs, accompanied by the wet slapping of her feet. Her soles stuck to the floor when she placed them down, then peeled off as she lifted them.
By the time she finally reached the second floor, the tongue was already waiting. It looked incredibly hungry. It didn't wait a second for her to prepare — it attacked immediately.
Miyuki reached for her knife, but she couldn't feel it — she suddenly remembered she had dropped it on the ground floor. "Oh fuck…" she muttered, just as the large tongue grabbed her.
This time, instead of just attacking her and trying to pull her with its stickiness, it wrapped around her like a snake, squeezing her stomach.
"Ah!" escaped from her mouth as her breathing was cut off.
The tongue began dragging her upward, to the next floor.
"Let me go!" Miyuki thought, unable to voice the thought aloud.
With a swift movement, it pulled her up the stairs to the next level. There, a pool filled with digestive acid awaited. Small yellow bubbles occasionally rose and popped in the air.
The tongue dragged her to the pool and threw her in, then backed off just enough to avoid burning itself in the acid, but stayed close enough to push her back in if she tried to climb out.
"AHHHHH!" Miyuki screamed as the acid ate away at her legs. Without thinking, she placed her hands on the edge of the pool and tried to pull herself out.
But the moment she tried, the tongue shoved her back into the acid. It pushed her so hard that her head plunged beneath the surface.
The instant the acid splashed across her face, the pain was no ordinary pain — it was absolute shock, as if her hands and face had simultaneously been plunged into boiling oil and electrified.
The inside of her mouth exploded with burning; her teeth screeched under the acid, and her gums throbbed. The tongue felt like a living piece of flesh thrown onto a hot stove — first numb, then pulsing, cracking with pain.
Acid surged into her nostrils, tearing at the mucous membranes and triggering an instant spasm of her airways — she could neither inhale nor exhale, only choke in her own panic.
Every sensation stung as if tiny shards of glass were scraping her from within; every tiny hair in her nose turned into a burning needle.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but the sensation was as if her eyes themselves were melting — through closed lids, all she could see were red sparks of pain and white flashes of light.
Every attempt to swallow the acid sent a fresh assault of searing claws through her throat and esophagus.
Time seemed to stretch — every second in the acid felt like a minute of being boiled alive. It was no longer just pain; it was the sensation of losing her own body, disintegrating piece by piece while still feeling every shred.
Suddenly, she surfaced, head breaking free from the acid. The first breath of air didn't bring relief — it brought a new wave of agony.
Her tongue still burned, every muscle in her mouth stiff with pain, as if molten metal refused to move. Her palate throbbed with the rhythm of her heart, gums bleeding and burning.
Her nose stung and cramped; every inhalation felt like tiny blades scraping through her nasal passages, while her nostrils still reeked of the lingering acid that refused to wash away.
Tears poured endlessly, but did nothing to ease the pain — they only added to the sensation of her face melting on its own.
Her eyelids were swollen, pain pulsating through her corneas as if every cell were simultaneously cramping and melting. Vision blurred, light too sharp, each blink a new explosion of agony.
Even after pulling her head out, the pain didn't relent. The inside of her mouth, her nose, and her eyes still felt as if they were simmering in a chemical fire.
Every second in the open air was a balancing act between sheer horror and the desperate desire to escape, yet she could not flee the sense of acid still spreading through every nerve.
She tried to scream, but instead of a clear "AHHHH!" came a hoarse, squeaky cry, animalistic, choking, with a gurgling sound of blood and acid in her throat.
Every second of pain made her facial muscles twitch, eyes squinting from the reflex burn.
Blood began to run from her nose, mixing with acid still dripping down her face, every exhale through her nostrils carrying the scorching smell of metallic bitterness.
When she tried to spit, dark, thick blood shot from her mouth, mingling with the remnants of acid.
Unable to endure any longer, she struggled to rise again, barely summoning her strength. She pulled the kunai tucked between her breasts and plunged it into the tongue.
The tongue convulsed in sudden agony, then began to thrash, trying to throw her off.
Clinging tightly to the small handle of her weapon, Miyuki was thrown from the pool to the far side. The tongue had unintentionally flung her clear of danger.
Miyuki barely moved as the tongue turned toward her, and with the last of her energy, she hurled a vial of poison at it.
The tongue began spasming from the green liquid coating it. Suddenly, it started to dry up, its movements slowing. It moved slower and slower, until it completely dried and collapsed to the ground, motionless.
Her bunny suit was soaked in acid. The fabric stuck to her skin, rough and shiny with moisture, every movement pressing against the swollen skin underneath, intensifying the pain.
Her hands still trembled, skin red and swollen from acid contact, fingers cramped.
Shoulders and neck were tense, every muscle locked from reflexive pain and shock, face burning, eyes squinting, eyelids pulsating from the burns.
Her legs might still retain some of their elegant line, thin muscles and curved form hinting at natural beauty, but the skin was swollen, partially red, and glistening from the lingering acid on the surface.
Her snow-white bunny ears burned as if molten metal were poured over them, pulsing with every twitch of her head.
Her soft tail transmitted pain through her spine and hips, every attempt to balance or move bringing a new wave of agony.
From head to toe, every inch of her body screamed with living pain — cramps, burning, throbbing, while blood and burns on her face and hands whispered a grim truth:
SHE HAD SURVIVED… BUT AT WHAT COST???