"A pity we can't gauge its potential's ceiling—but what a magnificent pity!" Yosaku's voice trembled with exhilaration, his eyes alight as they traced Tatsu's serpentine bulk. The draconic creature coiled lazily under the Healing Kingdom's pale sun, scales glinting like shards of jade. "To think—this one could ascend to the realm of the Eight Kings."
Teppei stiffened, his usual stoicism cracking. "The Eight Kings? You can't be serious." Visions of the Whale King Moon devouring continents flitted through his mind—colossal, untamed forces that dwarfed human comprehension.
Yosaku shook his head, undeterred. "Consider the Monkey King, the Deer King—beings born of lineages stretched thin by time. Tatsu's blood carries the Original Species' legacy. Its floor is their zenith. The ceiling? Uncharted."
Zed studied Tatsu, now over fifteen meters of sinuous muscle and razor-edged scales. Growth spurts had become daily occurrences; each inch earned through ravenous consumption. "Even if it reaches Eight Kings' stature," he said, "transporting it will be… problematic."
Tatsu's head swiveled, amber eyes narrowing as if insulted. A low rumble vibrated from its throat—a draconic scoff.
"Speed won't be an issue," Yosaku countered. "At its current rate, Tatsu could outpace any human-world vehicle. Recall Sunny's Snake Queen—size never hindered her."
The comparison struck Zed. Though lesser in grandeur, Sunny's companion had navigated the globe with primal ease. Meanwhile, with its lightning-charged horn and venomous breath, Tatsu would carve paths where trains and airships faltered.
Teppei exhaled sharply, pragmatism battling awe. "And loyalty? If it becomes a king, what binds it to us?"
"The same bond that ties Toriko to Terry," Zed replied, hand resting on Tatsu's flank. The scales hummed with latent energy, a silent promise. "Trust is forged, not forced."
Tatsu's roar thundered across the plains, a resonant declaration that shook the air like a seismic pulse. Though the title of Eight Kings meant little to the draconic hatchling, Zed's ambitions had become its own. Loyalty, primal and unyielding, burned in its amber gaze—a bond forged not by hierarchy, but by shared purpose.
Yosaku turned to Teppei, his voice cutting through the lingering echoes. "The Ice Hell calls. The Century Soup nears its birthing cycle, and the Food Showcase weakens. I've monitored the fissures—it won't hold." He handed Teppei a dossier stamped with the IGO insignia. "Hellboros stirs beneath its Knocking seals. Remove it… but tread carefully."
Teppei accepted the mission with a grim nod. Hellboros, the glacial titan entombed by Master Jiro centuries prior, had long haunted his list. Freeing such beasts was his life's work—a penance for humanity's past transgressions. The Century Soup, though alluring, was incidental; a relic to be harvested, not hoarded.
Zed watched silently. His own cravings for the legendary broth paled against the risks. Komatsu would replicate it in time—patience, not peril, was his mantra now.
The aircraft's engines whined as it soared over cerulean waves, Tatsu curled restlessly in the cargo hold. Its bulk strained the compartment's limits—another growth spurt, and even this would be impossible.
Erina Nakiri and Hisako Arato pored over holographic maps, their eyes widening at the First Biotope's staggering scale. "Five hundred thousand square kilometers… and it's not even the largest?" Erina murmured, tracing the island's jagged contours.
"A lifeline," Zed affirmed. "Thirty percent of the human world's sustenance thrives here. Collapse it, and famine will occur, devouring billions." The weight of his words hung heavily, eclipsing the hum of turbines.
The plane descended onto a sprawling tarmac flanked by verdant jungles and IGO banners snapping in the salt-kissed wind. Mansam, broad-shouldered and grin-worn, awaited them—a mountain of a man whose presence commanded both respect and ease.
"Zed, you scoundrel!" he boomed, clapping Zed's shoulder with force enough to stagger lesser men. "Two partners? Save some charm for the rest of us!"
Zed weathered the jest, gesturing to Erina and Hisako. "Erina Nakiri and Hisako Arato. They're… Important."
Mansam's laughter faded into a nod of approval. Behind the bluster lay a tactician's mind—sharp, pragmatic, and unwaveringly devoted to Ichiryuu's legacy. The First Biotope was in steady hands.