Toriko's mind raced even as his body moved on pure instinct. The severed arm—carefully preserved by Sunny, carried through the entire ascent, protected through every moment of the dance—was still with them. If what he sensed was true, if the [PAIR]'s aroma alone could trigger cellular regeneration...
But there was no time to think. The moment was now.
He reached out with his left hand, fingers stretching toward the glowing, chiming [PAIR] between the Monkey King's legs. The fruit's surface rippled with golden light, each pulse sending waves of delicious aroma through the arena.
The Monkey King's eyes widened—not with anger, but with something almost like anticipation.
"Roa...?" (You're really going for it?)
Toriko's fingertips brushed the glowing surface.
And the world exploded.
High above, King sat up straight for the first time, a genuine smile crossing his face. "Finally. The main course is about to be served."
Beside him, the real Kaka was trembling. "He's actually doing it. He's actually touching the [PAIR] while it's still attached to the Monkey King. That's... that's never been done before!"
King shrugged. "First time for everything."
Below, Toriko's fingers closed around the [PAIR].
The sensation was indescribable. It was like holding a star—warm, pulsing, alive. The fruit's surface was smooth yet textured, covered in patterns that seemed to shift and flow like living gold. And the smell—it was everything delicious that had ever existed, concentrated into a single, perfect moment.
Toriko pulled.
The [PAIR] resisted for just a fraction of a second—a moment of connection between fruit and king, as if it didn't want to leave its source. Then, with a sound like a bell ringing at the dawn of creation, it released.
The Monkey King let out a sound that was half-roar, half-sigh—a complex expression of loss and satisfaction intertwined.
"Roa..." (It's been so long...)
The fruit came free in Toriko's hand, and instantly, the arena was flooded with light. Golden radiance poured from the [PAIR], washing over everything—the bone arena, the cheering monkeys, the battered Heavenly Kings, the distant mountains.
And Toriko's severed arm.
The effect was immediate. The preserved limb, still carried in a pouch at Sunny's waist, began to glow. It pulsed in rhythm with the [PAIR], responding to its call.
"Sunny!" Toriko shouted. "The arm! Now!"
Sunny didn't hesitate. His hair shot out, grabbing the preserved arm from his pouch and hurling it toward Toriko with perfect precision.
The moment the severed limb touched the [PAIR]'s glow, miracles happened.
Cells reconnected. Nerves regenerated. Blood vessels rewove themselves into existence. The arm, which had been dead for days, came alive—and fused seamlessly back onto Toriko's stump.
Toriko gasped as sensation flooded back—a million tiny pinpricks of reconnecting nerves, a rush of power as his Gourmet Cells integrated the [PAIR]'s energy, a wave of gratitude from his own body for being made whole again.
He flexed his right hand.
It moved.
Perfectly.
"Amazing," he breathed. "It's... it's perfect."
The Monkey King watched this with undisguised fascination. He reached out one massive finger and gently poked Toriko's newly restored arm.
"Roa?" (Better than new?)
Toriko grinned, tears streaming down his face—tears of joy, of relief, of overwhelming gratitude. "Better than new. Thank you. Thank you for the dance."
Bambina's ancient eyes softened. For just a moment, the predator, the god, the king—he looked almost... gentle.
"Roa roar." (You earned it. All of you.)
He looked around at the four battered, exhausted, triumphant humans. At the cheering millions. At the glowing fruit in Toriko's hand.
"RORORO!" (Best festival EVER!)
The crowd erupted.
And high above, King clapped slowly, deliberately.
"Bravo. Encore." He looked at Kaka. "Told you. Protagonists."
Kaka could only nod, tears streaming down her own ancient face.
She had witnessed miracles before. But this? This was something new.
This was hope.
The scene before them was utterly surreal.
The playful, childlike Ape King who had been dancing with them moments ago was gone. In its place stood something ancient, primal, and terrifying beyond comprehension. The gliding membranes caught the light like mother-of-pearl, and the smooth pink skin seemed almost gentle compared to the scarred form they'd known—but the presence radiating from this creature was anything but gentle.
Toriko's hand was still frozen in the air where he'd reached for the [PAIR] . He hadn't even touched it—the transformation had happened the instant he'd tried.
"I... I didn't even grab it," he whispered. "The fruit is still there."
Indeed, the glowing testicles still hung between the transformed Bambina's legs, pulsing with even greater intensity now, their chiming having shifted to a deeper, more resonant frequency.
But the Monkey King wasn't looking at Toriko. His ancient crimson eyes were fixed on something else entirely—something in the distance, toward Pot Mountain, where Pair was fleeing at breakneck speed.
"Rooooooaaaar..."
The sound that emerged from Bambina's throat was nothing like his previous playful roars. It was deep, resonant, filled with the weight of millions of years of existence. It was the sound of a god awakening from a pleasant dream to find something wrong.
Zebra's ears twitched violently. "He's... he's not angry at us. He's angry at something else. Something he sensed when the transformation happened."
Coco's future sight flickered chaotically. "The Blue Nitro. Pair. Its intentions toward Komatsu—the Monkey King knows. He's known all along."
Sunny's hair was pressed flat against his body, every strand trembling. "What... what do we do?"
Toriko looked at his restored right hand, then at the glowing [PAIR] still attached to the transformed king, then at the distant figure of Pair fleeing toward his best friend.
"Zebra. Coco. Sunny." His voice was steady despite everything. "We have two goals now. One: protect Komatsu from whatever that impostor is planning. Two: get that fruit." He paused. "I don't know how we do both. But we're the Four Heavenly Kings. We figure it out."
Zebra grinned savagely despite the terror. "That's what I'm talking about."
Coco's eyes glowed. "Pair is fast, but its goal is Komatsu. If we can reach Pot Mountain before it—"
A massive hand descended in front of them, blocking their path.
Bambina's transformed face loomed above, and for the first time, his expression was something other than playful. It was... concerned.
"Roa." (Stay.)
Toriko blinked. "Stay? But—"
"ROA." (STAY.)
The command carried weight that pressed them into the bone arena. This wasn't a request. This was a king's order.
Bambina's gliding membranes spread wide, and with a single, impossible leap, he launched himself from the mountain peak—not toward Pot Mountain, but toward something else. Something in the sky.
Something that Toriko's newly enhanced senses could now perceive: five presences, descending from the heavens. Five Blue Nitro, accompanied by a figure with a gleaming knife.
Joa.
And they were heading straight for Pot Mountain.
The Monkey King, in his true form, was intercepting them.
Toriko's blood ran cold. "He's... he's protecting us. Protecting Komatsu. Buying us time."
Sunny's voice was barely a whisper. "But why?"
Coco answered, his voice heavy with understanding. "Because we danced with him. Because we played with him. Because for the first time in millennia, someone treated him like a playmate instead of a god to be feared or a monster to be defeated."
Zebra was already moving. "Then we don't waste his gift. Pot Mountain. Now. GO!"
The Four Heavenly Kings launched themselves from the peak, racing down the mountain with everything they had, their newly mastered Ape Dance carrying them at speeds that should have been impossible.
Behind them, the sky erupted into battle.
Above them, the [PAIR] still glowed, waiting for the right moment to fall.
And in the distance, Komatsu stirred the hot pot, completely unaware of the storm about to descend upon him.