The being before them was a stark contrast to the monstrous, predatory Blue Nitro of their nightmares. This one was pure white, its form draped in a faded, simple linen robe and a tattered cloak. It looked less like a cosmic horror and more like a weary, impoverished scholar who had wandered out of a forgotten library. In its hand, it carried a simple woven basket, inside which the bizarre 'man-eating flower' now lay, quiescent and docile.
"On guard!" Toriko barked, instantly falling into a combat stance. Coco's body sheathed itself in a shimmering purple Poison Membrane. Sunny's hair bristled into deadly filaments. Zebra's knuckles popped with the promise of sonic annihilation.
In their world, Nitro were synonymous with predation and cruelty. Only one exception existed in their minds.
"You led us here," Zebra growled, the air around his mouth distorting with condensed sound. "Spill it. What's your game before I turn you into abstract art?"
The white Nitro calmly hung the basket on its arm and raised both hands in a placating gesture. "Peace. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kaka. I have… heard of you from Kiki."
The name was a detonation.
"KIKI?!" The four shouted in unison. "You… you know that old pervert?!"
"Indeed," Kaka nodded, a faint, serene smile touching its alien features. "We are both Gourmet Celestials. Within the entirety of the Nitro, there are only three of us who dedicate our endless lives not to consumption, but to the art of cuisine."
"Gourmet Celestial…" Toriko muttered, the term ringing a bell from Kiki's own, usually lecherous, boasts.
A flicker of ancient camaraderie passed through Kaka's large, dark eyes. "Kiki, another named Gigi, and myself… we were once known to the world as the Gold, Silver, and Bronze Chefs."
"Pfft—HA!" Sunny couldn't contain a snort of laughter. "Kiki? A 'Gold Chef'? Was the title for 'Most Dedicated Voyeur'?"
Toriko rubbed his chin, recalling. "He did claim the title… it's just his… presentation is unique."
"Hmph!" Zebra scoffed. "More like 'Rusty Tin Chef'!"
Kiki's image—a bald, lascivious old man who demanded tributes of young women's clothing—was irreconcilable with grandeur.
Kaka listened to their jibes, not offended, but emitting a soft, chuckling sound. "Let us put aside the banter. Please, allow me to show you the ruins of the ancient kingdom… a kingdom built by Nitro slaves."
With that, it turned and began walking deeper into the cavernous ruins.
Sunny shot Toriko a questioning look. "Toriko? Are we really following it?"
While Kiki's name had dialed back the immediate kill-or-be-killed tension, Kaka was still a Nitro. And it had orchestrated their arrival. Suspicion hung thick in the musty air.
Toriko closed his eyes, his gourmet hunter's senses expanding. "I sense no active malice. Not here, not now. And besides…" He opened his eyes, a spark of raw curiosity igniting within them as he stared into the consuming darkness ahead. "…Aren't you the least bit interested in seeing this 'kingdom'?"
Coco and Zebra exchanged another glance. Zebra gave a begrudging, wordless grunt—his version of acquiescence.
Maintaining a cautious distance, the Four Heavenly Kings followed the white Nitro into the heart of history.
The scale was staggering. Though in ruins, the craftsmanship was sublime. Shattered pillars were intricately carved. Wall fragments held inlays of gems that still caught the faint, phosphorescent light. This was not mere survival; this had been opulence.
"Uninhabited… So the civilization here truly perished long ago?" Coco asked, his voice echoing softly in the vast space.
"Yes… a profound loss," Kaka replied without turning, its voice tinged with a melancholy that felt ancient. "All glories, save for the ceaseless appetite, are like fireworks. Dazzling, then… eternal silence."
Soon, Kaka led them into an open area of breathtaking scale. The domed ceiling soared high enough to hold clouds. The floor, though littered with rubble and centuries of dust, clearly outlined a massive circular plaza, structured around a central area that once must have held a great fire.
"This was one of the kingdom's hearts," Kaka announced, stopping at the plaza's edge. "The 'Feast Plaza.' When night fell and the central pyre was lit, grand banquets would commence here. The scent of feasts, the roar of laughter, the clamor of music and dance… it would echo until the stars faded."
Toriko stepped into the center of the plaza. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
The air was stale, thick with dust and decay. Yet, his transcendent sense of smell pierced through it. He caught it—a ghostly echo, faint as a whisper.
"I smell it…" he murmured, awestruck. "Such… fragrant scents! Joy… warmth… laughter… I can almost see them… the smiling faces…"
Kaka's voice came, gentle and approving. "Because this was once a vessel for the purest happiness of countless souls."
What Toriko sensed was not mere imagination. It was the lingering psychic aroma of joy, a flavor etched into the very stones by millennia of celebration, now a haunting, delicious ghost. They were standing not just in a ruin, but in the fossilized memory of a feast.
In the inner world—a realm imperceptible to ordinary people—several pot-bellied food spirits frolicked playfully around Toriko. They were the lingering souls of ancient people who, at the moment of death, had been gripped by a powerful desire for delicious food and had refused to vanish. For this reason, the inner world was also called the World of Souls. It was said that if one could find the food spirit of a deceased person here and guide it back into a new body in the material world, that person could be resurrected.
At this moment, several of these spirits held an exaggeratedly large roasted meat leg, swinging it back and forth teasingly before the entranced Toriko. The "lingering scent" his superhuman sense of smell had perceived originated precisely from this spectral feast.
…
Simultaneously, on the other side of the continent, King rode Horse King Heracles across the towering mountains of the Seventh Continent like a bolt of golden lightning, gathering unique ingredients. The Horse King's agile form leaped between steep cliffs, each step leaving hoofprints upon the rock face that would endure for millennia.
"Hoo-ang—!"
The Horse King came to an abrupt halt before a broken cliff, its front hooves rearing high in excitement. It had discovered that in its diminished form, it moved with even greater ease than in its original, colossal size.
King held the reins with one hand and gently stroked the horse's neck with the other, soothing the magnificent creature. Then he looked up, and the sight before him stole his breath.
At the foot of the Hundred G Mountains, a giant tree that seemed to reach the heavens erupted from the earth. Its trunk was as thick as a pillar holding up the sky, and its vast crown blotted out the sun, casting a shadow over hundreds of miles. Most peculiarly, countless star-like points of light twinkled within its foliage, visible even in the daytime as if the tree held an entire captured galaxy within its boughs.
"Is this the Tree of First Cry?" King murmured, awestruck. "No wonder it is also called the Star-Cutting Tree. It truly lives up to its name."
Horse King Heracles snorted, a flicker of disdain in its eyes. In its considered opinion, however grand this tree might be, it was nothing compared to the great AIR tree upon Late Rain Hill in the Eighth Continent.