The council hall erupted.
"Free movent between worlds?! That's impossible! Even we can only—"
"Silence!" The Scarred Nitro's roar cut through the chaos. His scarred hide seed to pulse with barely contained fury. "Joa. You're certain of this?"
Joa's smile was a venomous thing. "I watched him do it myself. One mont, standing in the Back World. The next, gone. No portal. No ritual. Just... elsewhere." She twirled Cinderella, the blade catching the ethereal light. "And Air? He didn't just die. He was erased. Every cell. Every mory. Every echo in the World of Souls. Gone, as if he'd never existed."
The ancient Nitro who had spoken earlier leaned forward, his withered form sohow radiating more nace than the scarred warriors. "And you propose we simply... confront this being? This 'Starving Wolf'? With what, precisely? Our cooking techniques? Our gourt cells?" A dry, rasping chuckle. "Air had all those things. And now he has nothing."
Joa's eyes narrowed. "I'm not proposing we fight him. I'm proposing we observe him. Understand him. Find his weakness." She gestured with her knife toward the holographic image, now frozen on Starving Wolf's furious face. "Look at him. Powerful, yes. But emotional. Reactive. He argues over at like a common brute. He has attachnts—that bald one, that chef Komatsu. Attachnts are vulnerabilities."
The Monocled Nitro adjusted his glasses, a calculating gleam in his ancient eyes. "You want to use the chef as bait."
"I want to use all of them as bait." Joa's smile widened. "The Four Heavenly Kings are ascending the Hundred G Mountains. The Ape King awaits them. The [PAIR] is nearly ready. And this 'Starving Wolf'?" She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "He's currently enjoying a hot pot with his companions at Pot Mountain. All of them—the bald one, the chef, even that annoying wolf-boy—are right there. Separated from the main action. Vulnerable."
The Scarred Nitro's eyes narrowed. "You're suggesting we strike at them while the Heavenly Kings are occupied with the Monkey King? Divide their forces? Isolate the variables?"
"Precisely." Joa inclined her head, acknowledging the Nitro's tactical mind. "The Heavenly Kings are distracted. Their battle partners are with them. The 'Starving Wolf' and his companions are isolated, unsuspecting, and utterly confident in their own power." She laughed, a silvery sound that held no warmth. "Confidence is the most delicious sauce. It makes the fall so much more... flavorful."
The council hall fell into contemplative silence. The Blue Nitro, for all their power and arrogance, were not fools. They had survived for hundreds of millions of years by being cautious, by planning, by never underestimating their opponents.
But this was different. This was an existential threat. A being who could kill them permanently. Who could move between worlds at will. Who had already taken one of their own.
The ancient Nitro spoke again, his voice like grinding stones. "And if we fail? If this 'Starving Wolf' proves as invincible as he appears? If he erases us as he erased Air?"
Joa's smile didn't waver. "Then we learn. We adapt. We try again. That's what we've always done, isn't it? We've cooked this planet for hundreds of millions of years. We've shaped evolution itself. We are the ultimate gourts, the masters of appetite." She leaned forward, her eyes blazing with an intensity that made even the ancient Nitro lean back. "Are we really going to cower in fear of one human? One ingredient?"
The word hung in the air like a challenge.
One by one, the Blue Nitro began to nod.
The Scarred Nitro rose, his massive form casting a shadow over the table. "Very well. We'll do this your way, Joa. We'll observe. We'll probe. We'll find his weakness." He cracked his knuckles, the sound like boulders grinding together. "And when we do, we'll add him to the nu. Permanently."
Joa's smile finally reached her eyes.
"Excellent. Then let's prepare. The Gourt Eclipse approaches, and with it..." She paused, her gaze drifting toward the holographic image of Pot Mountain, where Saitama, Garou, and Komatsu were still obliviously enjoying their al. "...the final course."
On the branch of the First Cry Tree, King suddenly snorted.
Kaka looked up, concerned. "My lord?"
King waved a dismissive hand, but his eyes were amused. "Nothing much. Just felt a whole bunch of ancient idiots making plans about things they don't understand." He paused, then added thoughtfully, "Also, apparently soone thinks Garou is . Which is hilarious for about twelve different reasons."
Kaka blinked. "Garou?"
"The 'Starving Wolf' guy. The one currently arguing with Saitama over dinosaur at." King chuckled. "He's strong, sure. But ? Not even close." He stretched lazily. "This should be entertaining."
Below, Toriko and his companions were now less than a kiloter from the sleeping Ape King. The snot bubbles continued to expand and contract, each breath of the sleeping god sending tremors through the mountain.
The dance was about to begin.
And elsewhere, other dancers were preparing for their own performances.
The Ape King's descent was cataclysmic. He hit the bone arena with the force of a collapsing mountain, sending shockwaves through the peak that nearly knocked the Heavenly Kings off their feet. Dust and debris exploded outward, and when it cleared, Bambina stood at the center of the arena, stretching languidly as if he'd just woken from a pleasant nap.
"Roaar~" He yawned, his massive jaw cracking with the movent. His crimson eyes swept over the group, and a grin spread across his scarred face. "Roar roar roar! (You found ! Took you long enough! I was starting to think you'd given up!)"
Toriko stepped forward, his body moving with the fluid grace of his newly mastered Ape Dance. The hundredfold gravity that should have crushed him barely registered now—his cells moved in perfect harmony, neutralizing the pressure as naturally as breathing.
"We don't give up," he said, his voice steady. "Not when there's a dance waiting."
Bambina's eyes lit up with delight. "RORORO! (You learned the steps! All of you! Even the grumpy one!)" He pointed at Zebra, who was glowering but couldn't quite hide the satisfaction in his posture. "Roa~ (This is going to be FUN.)"
The Ape King hopped onto one of the bone pillars surrounding the arena, perching there like an overgrown monkey on a branch. He reached into the air and—impossibly—plucked a star-like fruit from nowhere. The [PAIR] glowed in his massive hand, pulsing with inner light.
"Roar. (You want this? Then dance.)" He tossed the fruit lightly, catching it again. "Roa roar roar. (One day. One night. You keep up with , and it's yours. You fall...)" He grinned, showing teeth that could crush boulders. "Roa. (You beco fertilizer.)"
Coco's future sight flickered—images of dancing shadows, laughing monkeys, and at the end, either triumph or oblivion. No middle ground. No escape.
"We understand," he said calmly.
Sunny's hair was already swaying, not in fear but in anticipation. "A day and night of dancing with a king? How stylish. How utterly, impossibly stylish."
Zebra cracked his neck. "Just don't step on my toes, monkey."
Pair, the imposter Kaka, watched from the edge of the arena, its expression complex. This was the mont. The culmination of its scheming, its guidance, its manipulation. If the humans succeeded, it would have access to the [PAIR] . If they failed...
It glanced up, toward the distant branch where it had sensed sothing watching. For just a mont, it could have sworn it saw two figures—one lounging, one standing—observing from impossibly far away.
Then Bambina leaped into the arena, and all thoughts fled.
"ROAR!"
The dance began.
On the branch, King watched with genuine interest. Beside him, the real Kaka was practically vibrating with tension.
"They're actually doing it," she whispered. "They're going to dance with an Eight King."
King nodded, a piece of roasted Bibi Ball Bug in his mouth. "Mm. And they're doing pretty well, too. Look—Toriko's already matching his rhythm."
Below, Toriko had fallen into step with Bambina's massive, ground-shaking movents. His body flowed like water, anticipating each shift, each stomp, each sudden turn. The Ape King's eyes sparkled with genuine pleasure—it had been millennia since anything had kept up with him like this.
Sunny had woven his hair into a shimring accompanint, adding flourishes that complented rather than competed. Coco moved with calculated precision, each step exactly where it needed to be. And Zebra—Zebra had found the beat in his own way, his movents heavy and powerful, eting the Ape King's force with his own.
"They're... they're actually doing it," Kaka breathed.
King smiled. "Told you. Give them a challenge, and they rise to it. Every ti."
He looked up, toward the sky where sothing else was stirring. The Blue Nitro were moving. Joa was hunting. And sowhere below, on Pot Mountain, Saitama and Garou were about to have a very interesting dinner guest.
"The dance is just beginning," King murmured. "On every level."
In the arena, the Ape King laughed—a genuine, delighted sound—and the dance continued.
The night was young.
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