There was no thunderous explosion, no blinding flash of energy. Just a series of brutally efficient, wet THWACK-THWACK-THWACKS, like giant steaks being tenderized by a god.
Followed by earth-shaking THUDS as the mountainous beasts collapsed, their final, confused wails swallowed by the impact. Garou reappeared amidst the settling dust, flicking dark, viscous blood from his fingertips. He jerked his chin toward the nearest carcass. "Kid. Pick the good parts. Make it taste like something."
Sunny's eye twitched. "The audacity…"
Zebra, for once, found himself in complete agreement. He'd always been the loose cannon, but this guy… he operated on a level of disdain that was almost artistic.
Coco just sighed, gesturing subtly toward the Horse King placidly standing beside King. The message was clear: The man who rides a king fears no rulebook. He writes his own.
"Whoa! That was awesome, Garou!" Saitama's cheerful shout shattered the tense quiet. His moral dilemma—to follow local customs or not—had been conveniently solved for him. Garou broke the rules first! If some 'manager' showed up, they'd yell at him! This was the perfect window for a guilt-free snack-attack!
He immediately pointed a trembling, excited finger at the sky-scraping flora. "Komatsu! Look! Those grapes are like purple planets! That mushroom could be a banquet hall! That flower is a rainbow you can eat! Let's cook everything!"
And so, a bewildered Komatsu found himself swept up in the vortex of the two "Hungry Demons," dragged off to become the head chef of an impromptu, continent-scale barbecue.
King watched the chaotic trio vanish into the titanic undergrowth, a wry smile on his face. He swung gracefully onto Horse King Heracles's back. "I'm off to scout for some… unique local souvenirs. Won't be long." With a light tap of his heels, Horse King transformed into a streak of golden light, vanishing into the distant, mountainous horizon.
"Well," Sunny said, flipping his hair with practiced nonchalance, "seems it's just us four brothers now. A little… intimate picnic?"
"Shut your trap!" Zebra snarled, his entire body taut. "Can't you feel it?! Something's… off!"
Sunny paused, his flippancy evaporating. He listened. "…The noise. All of it. The insect drones, the bird cries from the canopy… it's all gone."
Toriko's nostrils flared, his gourmet hunter instincts screaming. "Not gone. Silenced." His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. "They're here. The true landlords of this continent. The troop that rules it all… has arrived."
Sunny's face paled. "Komatsu and the others—!"
BOOOOOOM—!!!
The sound that ripped across the continent wasn't just loud; it was dimensional. The very ground of the Seventh Continent heaved. Ancient trees swayed like saplings in a typhoon. A rain of stone and debris cascaded from nearby cliffs.
But the source of the panic became immediately, hilariously clear.
From the direction where Saitama's group had gone, a stampede erupted. Not of beasts, but of monkeys. Tens of thousands of them, from tiny, shrieking pygmies to hulking, armored brutes, were fleeing in blind, screeching terror. Their eyes were white-rimmed with primal fear, their usual predatory arrogance utterly shattered. In their chaotic retreat, they swirled around Toriko, Coco, Sunny, and Zebra, momentarily trapping them in a whirlpool of panicked simians.
Toriko watched the spectacle, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Well… I don't think we need to worry about Komatsu."
It was obvious. The monkey horde had run into something far more terrifying than they were. And now, frustrated and humiliated, they were redirecting their rage onto the nearest available targets—the four figures who looked (relatively) normal.
Sunny let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me! They think we're the easy mark?!"
His question was answered immediately. From the swirling mass of fur and fear, a Potato Gorilla—a monstrous beast with bark-like skin and a Capture Level of 688—bulled its way forward. Its bloodshot eyes zeroed in on Zebra. With a ground-cracking push of its tree-trunk legs, it launched itself at him, a living boulder of fists and fury.
It had chosen Zebra first.
The insult was so profound, so personally offensive, that Zebra saw red. Him? The loudest, the angriest, the most visibly dangerous? They thought he was the weakest link?!
"YOU PIECE OF SHIT MONKEY—!!!"
Rage bypassed strategy. Zebra didn't dodge. He planted his feet, threw his head back, and opened his mouth. Not to roar, but to unleash.
Death Sonics!!!
A visible, distorted wave of gray-white sound ripped from his throat. It wasn't a blast; it was a wall of pure, annihilating vibration. It hit the charging Potato Gorilla head-on. There was no impact sound—just a horrible, wet SHWUMP as the sound waves passed through the beast's body, liquefying organs, pulverizing bone, and reducing a Capture Level 688 terror into a collapsing sack of flesh and pulp before it could even swing its fist.
The first shot in the monkeys' retaliatory war had been fired. And Zebra had just replied with a sonic cannon. The "picnic" was officially over.
The Potato Gorilla's charging mass locked up, a marionette with its strings cut, teetering on the brink of collapse…
Then, a spark of something even more primal than pain or fear ignited in its hollow eyes. A mindless, berserk vitality.
ROOOOAR—!!!
It slammed a foot down, arresting its fall. The ground cratered beneath it.
"Hah! Not bad! Got some fight left in you!" Zebra's grin widened, a predator appreciating stubborn prey. "But trash is still trash! Struggle all you want, your ticket's already punched!"
In the next instant, he was there—a phantom blur appearing directly before the gorilla's chest. His Sound Wave Arm, a limb of condensed sonic fury, lashed out in a deceptively casual backhand.
THWIP-SPLUTCH!
The Potato Gorilla's head didn't just come off; it was launched like a grisly cannonball, arcing dozens of meters before detonating in a shower of gore.
Yet, the headless body didn't fall. Instead, the neck stump bubbled. Flesh and sinew writhed like angry maggots, knitting, stretching, forming a grotesque lump that rapidly sculpted itself into a new, snarling head.
"Regeneration?" Zebra spat, his disgust palpable. "Persistent little cockroach! Why not just die clean and save us both the trouble?! You want me to atomize you?!"
The reborn, utterly frenzied Potato Gorilla answered with another mindless, suicidal charge.
"FINE! HAVE IT YOUR WAY! SUPERSONIC BAZOOKA—!!!"
Zebra's patience evaporated. He didn't hold back. The sound wave that erupted from him wasn't a blast; it was a tsunami of pure force. It spread in a devastating fan, shredding the air. The Potato Gorilla didn't just die this time; it disassembled at the molecular level. The shockwave didn't stop there, ripping through hundreds of nearby monkeys caught in the periphery, reducing them to red mist and pulp.
"ZEBRA, YOU BLIND BASTARD!" Sunny shrieked, leaping aside as a residual sonic ripple sheared off a lock of his precious golden hair. "AIM, YOU MORON!"
Zebra just shot him a look that plainly said, Dodge better, pretty boy.
Sunny seethed, but the renewed, roaring tide of monkeys gave him no time for retaliation.
The battle was now a free-for-all. Toriko's Demon Arm was a crimson whirlwind, each Nail Punch pulverizing multiple attackers. Coco's venom fell like a corrosive monsoon. Sunny's hair became a forest of lethal, strangling vines. Their loyal beasts—Terry, Kiss, Queen—fought with ferocious loyalty at their sides.
Yet, amidst the chaos of clashing forces and bestial roars, Toriko's honed senses snagged on a discordant note. His movements didn't slow, but his eyes sharpened, scanning the seething mass of enemies. Something was off. The pattern of the attack, the way certain monkeys held back… it wasn't just mindless aggression. There was a rhythm to it, a disturbing, coordinated intent lurking beneath the frenzy.
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