"H-hey, brother!" Branch slurred, clapping a heavy hand on King's shoulder. The sake was doing most of the talking. "Tha's one fine-lookin' steed ya got there! Tamin' a newborn Heracles foal so quick? Spill the secret! We got one here too, but the stubborn little brat won't let anyone near 'im!"
The Gourmet Garden did have a foal of Heracles lineage, but it was a sickly, impure runt. Branch had mistaken the magnificent creature beside King for a recently born, pure-blooded prince—a creature of infinitely nobler bearing and perfection than their own defective specimen.
All the Heavenly Kings except Zebra had mounts blessed with Eight Kings' blood. It was a point of quiet, profound envy for Branch.
King finished chewing a particularly succulent morsel and dabbed his lips. "Tame? Simple. You just ride it a few times."
"Pfft—HAHAHA!" Branch roared with laughter, spilling his drink. "You're a riot! Its mama's right there on the hill! You think she'd just let you hop on her baby for a joyride?"
King looked at him as if he were slow. "Who said anything about the foal?" He gestured casually with his chin toward the resting 'colt.' "I'm riding its mother."
Branch's uproarious laughter died in his throat. The sound choked off into a strangled gurgle. Half his drunken stupor evaporated in a cold, soul-deep shock.
He turned his head, neck creaking with the stiffness of dread, and truly looked at the creature beside King.
This time, he saw past the calm exterior. He saw the faint, regal contempt deep in those languid eyes. He noticed how the normally haughty foals of the Garden were keeping a wide, respectful berth, heads lowered. He saw Battle Wolf Terry, Emperor Crow Kiss, Mother Snake Queen—all proud beasts with Kings' blood—prostrated on the ground, trembling in abject submission.
All the pieces of an impossible, terrifying puzzle clicked into place.
Thud.
Branch's legs gave out. He didn't just kneel; he folded. As the Demon Food World's premier warrior, he understood the Horse King's power on a visceral, existential level. It was a living apocalypse. A force that could erase his entire world with a bored sigh.
And here it was. Leashed. Miniaturized. Being used as a footrest.
"Y-you… you…" Branch stammered, his voice a dry whisper. Language had failed him.
King chuckled and gave Branch's rigid shoulder a reassuring pat. "Relax. She's quite gentle now." To demonstrate, he scratched Horse King Heracles under the chin. The planetary titan, shrunk to pony-size, let out a soft, agreeable snort and nuzzled his hand.
Branch's mind didn't just break; it underwent a factory reset. He stumbled back to the kitchens in a profound daze, vowing to take this secret to his grave. If the other demons knew the Horse King itself was lounging at their banquet, the resulting panic would dwarf any beast tide.
"Chef? You're white as a sheet! Are you ill?" an assistant asked, concerned.
"N-no… fine…" Branch mumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just… just realized the bedtime monsters we use to scare our children… they've suddenly become… rather quaint."
Meanwhile, Komatsu, having orchestrated the kitchen's salvation, returned to the table. He'd barely sat down before the thoroughly inebriated Upside-Down Immortal threw a bony arm around him.
"Komatsu!" the old fairy bawled, tears and sake mixing on his wrinkled cheeks. "I've lived… so many years… eaten so much… but this… this is the first! The first time! It's like… like tasting a dream!"
Komatsu blushed, waving his hands in modest denial. "It was everyone's effort, really!"
"Nonsense!" The elder shoved himself upright, sloshing his cup. "You! You are a savior! A prophet of flavor! This toast… is for you! The chef who is rewriting the history of the Demon Food World!"
"Village Chief, you're drunk!" Mappy squeaked, trying to pull him down.
"I AM NOT!" the elder bellowed, then suddenly leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, sake-soaked whisper. "Komatsu… do you want to know… how we demons… came to be… like this?"
The question cut through the revelry. Toriko, Coco, Sunny, and Zebra—all put down their food and leaned in, curiosity piqued.
"Our ancestors…" The Upside-Down Immortal's bleary eyes suddenly sharpened, gaining a painful clarity. "…were once ordinary humans."
"WHAT?!" The exclamation came from all four Heavenly Kings at once. Their faces were portraits of sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
The idea was ludicrous. They looked at the fairies around them—the kappa-like cooks, the big-faced mono-hairs, the one-eyed Vulture, the four-eyed long-hairs, the bull-pig-nosed chefs. Ordinary humans? The visual disconnect was absolute. It was like claiming a mountain was once a teacup.
In stark contrast to the stunned Gourmet Kings, Saitama and Garou merely shrugged. In their world, humans warping into monsters due to obsession, rage, or a bad diet was Tuesday. To them, the fairies were just another flavor of 'mutated being.'
The Upside-Down Immortal took a long, fortifying gulp of wine. "I have heard… it is said that long, long ago… our ancestors were captured by the Four Beasts. They became… slaves to the Nitro."
"The Four Beasts?!" Toriko shot to his feet, the name a live wire. "The same Four Beasts that siege the Human World every century?"
He, along with the other Heavenly Kings, had recently fought off that very invasion—a cataclysm that had left the Human World barren and starving, the very reason for their desperate journey into the Gourmet World.
The elder nodded, his expression grave. "The very same. But what you fought… they are merely tools. Weapons forged by the Nitro hundreds of thousands of years ago for one purpose: the mass harvesting of humankind."
Komatsu leaned forward, a sick fascination in his eyes. "But… why? Why would the Nitro want humans?"
"For… Acacia's Full-Course Menu."
A profound silence swallowed the banquet hall. Even the omnivorous chewing from Saitama's corner ceased. All eyes were locked on the old fairy.
"Hundreds of millennia ago," the Upside-Down Immortal continued, his voice a dry rustle, "the Nitro had already charted the ingredients of God Acacia's menu. And they understood a grim truth: before that cosmic feast could mature… humanity would be plundered."
He took a shuddering breath.
"They injected the captured humans with Gourmet Cells. Perhaps to create stronger, more efficient slaves. Perhaps to use the enhanced humans as… living fertilizer… to nourish the ingredients of the full course. Or perhaps…" his voice dropped to a haunted whisper, "…simply to make the human flesh itself… tastier."
A collective chill swept through the revelers. The cheerful crackle of the central bonfire now sounded like the snapping of ancient bones.
"How…" Komatsu swallowed hard, his chef's mind recoiling even as it sought the morbid recipe. "How are these Gourmet Cells… injected?"
The elder raised a trembling hand, holding up two gnarled fingers.
"Two methods. The first… is ingestion. To slowly, over time, consume food rich in Gourmet Cells and allow the body to adapt."
He paused, the weight of the next words hanging in the air like an executioner's axe.
"And the second method…"
...hello guys check out the other OPM fanfic on my page , it's interesting, try it out . Anyways, support me on my patreon Rene_chan for advanced chapters.