King wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, completely unbothered by Kaka's horrified expression.
"Sounds delicious," he said simply.
Kaka's jaw dropped. "De-delicious?! My lord, did you hear what I said? The Earth is going to collapse! Billions of lives will—"
"Will experience the ultimate flavor," King interrupted, a gleam in his eye that was entirely different from his usual lazy amusement. "Think about it, Kaka. A planet, cooked for hundreds of millions of years. Every geological disaster, every extinction event, every volcanic eruption—all just steps in a recipe. And at the end..." He licked his lips. "The final dish. [GOD]."
Horse King Heracles snorted, but there was a thoughtful tilt to its massive head. Even an Eight King could appreciate the scale of such a feast.
Kaka was speechless. She had expected shock, horror, perhaps a heroic determination to save the world. Instead, she got... hunger.
"But... but the destruction..." she managed.
King waved a dismissive hand. "The world's always ending somewhere. Volcanoes, meteors, idiots picking fights with things they shouldn't. Another apocalypse is just Tuesday." He leaned back, looking up at the star-like [PAIR] fruits glowing in the canopy. "Besides, if this Gourmet Eclipse is really the final step, then Toriko and his friends are right on schedule."
Kaka blinked. "Schedule?"
"Think about it." King's voice took on a lecturing tone, though his expression remained lazily amused. "They're here, learning the Monkey Dance, chasing [PAIR]. That fruit can resurrect the dead, right? And what happens at the Gourmet Eclipse? Acacia's full course comes together. People die. People might need resurrecting." He shrugged. "Sounds like destiny to me. Or at least, good planning by whoever wrote this menu."
Kaka's mind reeled. The idea that the Gourmet Eclipse, the apocalyptic culmination of the Blue Nitro's plan, might be somehow connected to the current training of four humans at the foot of the mountain... it was too much to process.
Below, oblivious to the conversation happening far above them, Toriko caught another Bibi Ball Bug, held it for exactly 0.1 seconds, and released it just before it could secrete its toxin. His face split into a triumphant grin.
"Got it! Finally got the timing!"
Coco nodded approvingly from nearby, having just completed his own successful catch-and-release. Sunny was close behind, his hair finally adapting to the rhythm of the bug's quantum shifts. Even Zebra, from his meditative perch, had a faint smirk—his own method was progressing, though he'd never admit it.
On the branch, King watched them with satisfaction. "See? They're learning. And when they finally get that fruit, when they dance with the Monkey King and survive the night..." He trailed off, his gaze shifting to the horizon where the sun was setting in streaks of gold and purple.
"The Gourmet Eclipse is in a month. Plenty of time for a little more... seasoning."
Kaka stared at him, then at the training humans below, then at the glowing fruits above, and finally at the distant, laughing shadow of the Ape King waiting for its dance partners.
For the first time, she wondered if the Blue Nitro's carefully planned apocalypse might have overlooked a few... ingredients.
And those ingredients were currently learning to dance.
King stared at Kaka with an expression that could only be described as "are you serious right now."
"One million years," he repeated flatly.
Kaka nodded earnestly. "Yes, my lord. A mere one million years. In cosmic terms, that's—"
"A mere one million years." King cut her off, his voice dripping with incredulity. "You're telling me the Earth is going to explode in one million years, and you're treating this like an urgent crisis?"
Kaka blinked, genuinely confused. "But... but my lord, one million years is—"
"Is an eternity for anything that actually matters," King interrupted. He gestured vaguely toward the humans training below. "Those idiots down there will be dead in, what, eighty years if they're lucky? Their grandchildren's grandchildren's grandchildren will be dead before this 'imminent' disaster happens. By the time this actually becomes a problem, civilization will have reinvented itself a hundred times over."
Kaka opened her mouth, then closed it. She had spent so long thinking in Nitro timescales—centuries, millennia, eons—that she'd genuinely forgotten how short human lifespans were. To her, one million years was a concerningly near deadline. To a human...
"It's like..." King searched for an analogy. "It's like me telling you that a pot of soup you left simmering will be perfectly done in three seconds. That's urgency. Telling me it'll be done in three thousand years is just... dinner plans for someone who isn't born yet."
Horse King Heracles snorted in apparent amusement, its massive body shaking with what might have been laughter.
Kaka's face cycled through several expressions—embarrassment, realization, and finally a kind of dawning absurdity. "I... I see your point, my lord. I may have been... overly concerned about the timeline."
"Just a bit." King lay back down, resuming his previous lounging position. "So, to summarize: the Earth will finish cooking in a month, but won't actually explode for another million years. The [PAIR] is up there, Toriko and his friends are down there learning to dance with quantum bugs, and somewhere in the middle is a monkey god who thinks this is all hilarious."
He plucked another leaf, sticking it between his teeth. "Honestly? This is the most relaxed apocalypse I've ever been involved in."
Kaka sat down heavily on the branch, her Nitro mind recalibrating. One million years. To her, it was a heartbeat. To humans, it was incomprehensible. No wonder this lord was so calm—he thought like a human, acted like a human, and apparently measured time like a human.
Below, a triumphant shout echoed. Zebra had apparently succeeded in whatever bizarre training method he'd devised, and was now gloating loudly at the others.
On the branch, King smiled faintly.
"See? Progress. They'll have the dance down by morning. Then the real fun begins."
Kaka followed his gaze, watching the four Heavenly Kings struggle, fail, adapt, and grow. And for the first time, she wondered: if they could learn in hours what took monkeys centuries, what might they achieve in a single human lifetime?
Perhaps the Blue Nitro's million-year plan had a flaw they'd never considered.
Humans.
They just wouldn't stay dead.