Once summoned to the Zero Biotope, figures like Yosaku vanished from the human world—anchored to the Gourmet World's ceaseless wars. In Toriko's timeline, veterans of the IGO-Bishokukai conflict met grim fates: slaughtered, crippled, or consumed by Gourmet Spirits. Those who survived retreated into the Gourmet World's depths, like Yosaku, who'd sequester himself in the Fourth Continent's Aging Cave to regenerate EARTH's ravaged fields. His return? Unlikely until the final battle's ended.
Zed arrived with Tatsu, now five meters of coiled, jade-scaled majesty. Though dwarfed by mature Devi Serpents, its aura crackled with predatory intensity—a cub eclipsing its elders in raw power.
Yosaku's workshop hummed with the sterile buzz of regeneration tech. The master himself froze mid-scalpel stroke, goggles magnifying his widened eyes as Tatsu slithered into view. "You claim this is a Devil Serpent mutation?"
"Thorough, isn't it?" Zed smirked, recounting Tatsu's birth: the skeletal glow of the Original Species, the egg's ravenous consumption of Devil Serpent carcasses, the verdant storm of its hatching.
Yosaku circled Tatsu, instruments whirring as scanners probed its biology. "Not mere mutation. This is ancestral resurgence—atavism and evolution fused. Its cells… they're rewriting millennia of genetic decay."
Zed's brow furrowed. He'd sensed Tatsu's aberrant growth—faster than Terry's, whose Eight Kings potential once seemed peerless—but hadn't grasped the why.
"Imagine a seed," Yosaku continued, "buried in barren soil, suddenly sprouting with the vigor of its primordial ancestors. That's your Tatsu. A relic reborn."
The hatchling hissed, sensing scrutiny.
"I need its blood," Yosaku said abruptly. "To map this… phenomenon."
Yosaku met Zed's gaze, curiosity blazing beneath his clinical detachment. "Proceed," Zed agreed, and Tatsu—now attuned to their discussions—lowered its horned head, permitting the blood draw without protest. Trust, it seemed, had rooted between them.
Over a few weeks, Yosaku, Zed, and Teppei (who'd joined mid-study) dissected Tatsu's blood in the Mother Wood's labs. By the time they gathered on the windswept plains outside the city's borders, their findings bordered on the surreal.
"Its Gourmet Cells—they're voracious," Yosaku declared, holographic data flickering around them. "No waste. No inefficiency. Every food converts wholly into energy, fueling growth at a rate that… defies nature."
Tatsu, now over ten meters of coiled, jade-scaled lethality, hissed softly—a sound like grinding tectonic plates. In half a month, its Gourmet Cell Level had skyrocketed past 40, rivaling Zed's own.
Humans, blessed by evolution's favoritism, could host Gourmet Demons and ascend rapidly—Zed and the Four Heavenly Kings stood testament. Yet Tatsu, a mutant born of ancestral resurgence, outpaced even them. Where Terry's Eight Kings-bound potential plateaued, Tatsu thrived.
Tests revealed more regarding its Combat Prowess:
Horn Lightning: Crackling arcs of bio-electricity, sharp enough to cleave bedrock.
Venom: A corrosive spray surpassing Demon Snake toxicity, dissolving steel in seconds.
Scales: Each plate a sensory organ, granting 360° awareness—no blind spots, no vulnerabilities.
Despite its Level 40 status, Tatsu dueled Level 50 beasts effortlessly. Such transcendence was unheard of; even the Seventh Continent's Ape Warriors couldn't breach their Gourmet Cell ceilings. Yet here Tatsu stood—a paradox of evolution, a storm clad in scales.
"No longer a burden," Zed murmured, pride threading his voice. Tatsu wasn't just keeping pace—it was redefining the race.