My soup is the darkness that consumes the world. It is mysterious in its nature. Scary in it’s contents.
People think it is just regular. That the meat is just pork or steak. But little do they know. Whenever our crew kills of someone I take care of the body. They think I just burn it. They think I turn it to ash. I chop it.
I dismember and degut. Cutting away at the flesh and roasting it in my broth. The taste of it is so similar to other meats. Why would they suspect a thing.