The golden torrent defied all logic. It cascaded from the incision in the [PAIR] like a waterfall from a bottomless spring, filling the air with an aroma so intoxicating that even the most stoic among them felt their knees go weak.
Saitama was already salivating openly. "That's... that's a lot of juice."
Garou's eyes were wide. "How is that possible? The fruit was basketball-sized! That's enough liquid to fill a swimming pool!"
Kaka, the Gourmet Human, was trembling. "The [PAIR]... it's not just a fruit. It's a gateway. A connection to the world of souls, to the essence of life itself. When Chef Komatsu 'listened' to it, when he understood its desire, it opened completely. That's not juice—that's pure life force, condensed into liquid form."
Komatsu, still holding his Dragon Tooth Knife, watched the golden cascade with wonder. "It's... it's happy. The [PAIR] is happy to finally be shared. It's been waiting so long."
Toriko, having finally extracted himself from Rin's scolding, approached with awe. "Komatsu... you did it again. You heard an ingredient's voice and brought out its true potential."
Komatsu blushed. "I just... I just listened. The [PAIR] did all the work."
King laughed, catching a cupful of the golden liquid as it flowed past. "Don't sell yourself short, Komatsu. Anyone can listen. Few can truly hear." He raised the cup, examining its contents. The liquid swirled with inner light, galaxies of flavor dancing within. "Now then. Who wants the first taste?"
Every single hand in the vicinity shot up.
Even Rin forgot her anger at Toriko, her arm extended eagerly. The IGO agents were practically vibrating with anticipation. The Gourmet Corpse members, normally stoic, had expressions of naked longing.
Saitama was literally bouncing. "Me! Me! Pick me!"
King's eyes swept over the crowd, a mischievous glint in them. "Hmm... decisions, decisions." He pretended to consider, then suddenly tossed the cup to the most unexpected recipient.
Kaka caught it reflexively, her ancient eyes going wide. "M-me?"
"You're the oldest," King said with a shrug. "And you've been waiting longer than anyone. Go ahead. First taste of the [PAIR] in... how many millions of years?"
Kaka's hands trembled as she raised the cup to her lips. The entire gathering held its breath.
She drank.
For a moment, nothing happened. Kaka stood frozen, the cup still at her lips, her expression unreadable.
Then—
Tears.
Not tears of pain or sorrow, but tears of pure, overwhelming joy. They streamed down her ancient face as her body began to glow with a soft, golden light.
"I remember," she whispered. "I remember everything. The first feast. The laughter. The flavor." She looked up at the sky, at the stars, at the distant shape of the Monkey King's tree. "This is what we were trying to preserve. This is what it was all for. Not power. Not control. This."
The golden light spread from her, washing over the entire gathering. And as it touched each person, they too began to remember—not specific memories, but the feeling of them. The joy of shared meals. The warmth of companionship. The simple, profound pleasure of eating something delicious with people you loved.
Saitama blinked. "Whoa. That's... that's a lot of feelings."
Garou, for once, didn't have a sarcastic response. His eyes were distant, lost in memories of meals long past—with his family, before everything went wrong.
Toriko put his arm around Komatsu's shoulders. "We did it, partner. We really did it."
Komatsu, tears streaming down his face, nodded. "Together. Always together."
Rin, still annoyed but softened by the golden light, leaned against Toriko's other side. "Idiot. But... my idiot."
Zebra grabbed a cup of his own and downed it in one gulp. His eyes went wide, then he burst out laughing—a genuine, joyful sound that no one had ever heard from him before. "THIS! This is what I've been chasing! This is what noise should sound like!"
Sunny's hair was doing a slow, graceful dance, each strand moving to music only it could hear. "Exquisite. Absolutely exquisite."
Coco simply sat, a peaceful smile on his usually analytical face. For once, he wasn't calculating probabilities or scanning for danger. He was just... present.
King watched them all, a genuine warmth in his eyes. Then he raised his own cup, catching a fresh flow of golden liquid.
"To the chefs," he said. "To the ingredients. To the dance." He paused, a grin spreading across his face. "And to the best damn meal in the history of existence."
He drank.
The golden light intensified, enveloping them all.
And somewhere, in the distance, the Monkey King looked up from his bridal preparations and smiled. Even he could feel it—the joy, the completion, the perfect satisfaction of a meal shared.
The [PAIR] had found its purpose.
The feast had begun.
The scene descended into chaos.
Saitama, the invincible hero who had never known defeat, was now clutching his suddenly voluptuous chest with an expression of pure, undiluted horror. The swellings were... substantial. Bouncy, even. They jiggled with every panicked movement.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!"
Garou, who had been mid-gulp, froze with his bowl at his lips. He slowly lowered it, staring at Saitama's transformation with wide eyes. Then, very carefully, he set the bowl down and patted his own chest.
Still flat. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Komatsu's jaw dropped. "Mr. Saitama! Your... your chest!"
Rin, ever practical despite the absurdity, observed: "Actually... it suits you? You have the figure for it now."
"I DON'T WANT THE FIGURE FOR IT!"
Toriko, who had also been drinking, quickly checked himself. Still male. Still flat-chested. He let out a relieved breath. "It must be because Mr. Saitama drank a full bowl in one gulp. The concentration was too high!"
Indeed, where others had sipped cautiously or taken moderate amounts, Saitama—impatient as always—had downed his entire bowl in a single, greedy gulp.
King, still savoring his own sip, watched the chaos with amusement. "Well. That's one way to experience the [PAIR]'s transformative properties."
"Transformative properties?!" Saitama shrieked, still clutching his new assets. "Nobody said anything about transformative properties!"
Kaka, the Gourmet Human, stepped forward with an expression of scholarly interest. "Fascinating. The [PAIR] doesn't just resurrect—it restores. It returns things to their ideal state. For most, that means healing wounds, curing illnesses, even reversing age. But for someone like you..." She circled Saitama, examining him. "Your body is already perfect. Invincible. There's nothing to heal, nothing to restore. So the [PAIR]'s energy had to express itself another way."
"By giving me BOOBS?!"
"By restoring what it perceived as missing," Kaka clarified. "Your body, in its invincible perfection, apparently lacked... feminine characteristics. So the [PAIR] provided them."
Saitama looked down at his chest. The chest looked back, impressively prominent.
"This is the worst day of my life."
Garou, despite himself, snorted with laughter. Then snorted again. Then doubled over, howling. "Your... your FACE! With those! HAHAHAHA!"
"I WILL END YOU!"
Komatsu, ever helpful, rushed forward with another bowl. "Here, Mr. Saitama! Drink more! Maybe it'll reverse the effect!"
Saitama grabbed the bowl and downed it in one gulp.
Nothing happened.
"...It didn't work."
Kaka shook her head. "The transformation appears to be permanent. At least for now. The [PAIR]'s effects are profound and not easily reversed."
Saitama's deadpan eyes somehow became even deader. "Permanent."
"Permanent."
A long, heavy silence fell over the gathering.
Then Zebra, who had been watching the entire spectacle with barely contained glee, burst out: "So the invincible hero is now the invincible hero WITH BOOBS! HAHAHAHA!"
The floodgates opened. Soon everyone was laughing—Toriko, Sunny, Coco, even the stoic Gourmet Corpse members. Rin was crying with laughter. Komatsu was trying not to laugh and failing miserably.
King, sipping his [PAIR] with evident enjoyment, watched the chaos with a philosopher's detachment. "You know, Saitama, this could be worse."
"How? HOW could this be worse?!"
King gestured vaguely. "You could have turned into a monkey bride like Setsuno."
Saitama paused. Looked down at his chest. Looked in the direction where Setsuno had disappeared with the Monkey King.
"...Okay, this is better."
"Much better," King agreed.
Garou wiped tears from his eyes. "I'm never letting you forget this, baldy. NEVER."
Saitama sighed—a deep, weary sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. Then he straightened, adjusted to his new center of gravity, and picked up his bowl.
"...Is there more?"
Komatsu, still giggling, refilled his bowl. "Of course, Mr. Saitama! There's plenty!"
Saitama took a cautious sip this time. His eyes widened. "...Okay, this is still really good."
And so, the feast continued. The invincible hero with his new curves. The chef who could hear ingredients. The Gourmet Four Kings, battered but victorious. The reinforcements from the Human World. And one very amused King, watching it all unfold.
The [PAIR] flowed freely. Laughter filled the air.
And somewhere, in the First Cry Tree, a very confused Setsuno was about to have the strangest night of his existence.
But that's another story.