There is a sick delight in reading something that actually manages to express the depths of how disgusting it can feel to wear a human body: "I feel like a food waste bag dripping its rotten soup." One of many visceral descriptions. The typography tricks are a great way to echo the melting human form too.

Mumu, the grotesque alien predator, is absurdly relatable - the perpetual battle to 'disarm' the body so it behaves, pride in hard-earned tips and tricks for presenting feminine, even just the slow torture of existing on a subway each day. It was brave of Min to put this out here so nakedly.
 
The ending is

inevitable and heart-rendering

but also came at the right moment for the novella not to overstay its welcome.