Gourmet Hunter · Conversa

As the salty sea breeze washed over the pier, Komatsu was pulling his kitchen knife out of his luggage for the third time to check it. The blade reflected his tense face—the reassignment order from IGO HQ had come so suddenly, stating that a chef was needed to accompany an expedition to assist in capturing the Galala Crocodile. All he knew was that his partner was one of the Four Heavenly Kings; everything else was a complete mystery. "You Komatsu?" The voice pressed down from behind him. Komatsu turned around, his eyes falling first on the old scar running across the man's wrist before taking in his broadly grinning face. Toriko towered a full head above him, his hair blown wild by the wind, his muscular frame wrapped in a rough cloth jacket like a wild beast that had just stalked out of the forest. He thrust out his right hand, bits of unwashed scale debris still trapped beneath his fingernails. "Heard you've got good knife skills." Toriko took his kitchen knife, ran the pad of his thumb across the edge, and shoved it back. "The skin of a Galala Crocodile is too tough for ordinary blades to cut. Stand back when the time comes." Komatsu opened his mouth, but no words came out. He caught the scent of blood, spices, and the sweet fragrance of some fruit he couldn't name clinging to Toriko. Cargo ships at the pier were unloading; whimpering cries of young beasts echoed from inside wooden crates while porters shouted as they dragged bundles of giant celery ashore. Far off, a gap split open in the sky's clouds, and sunlight slammed onto the ocean's surface, shattering into countless dazzling flecks of light. Toriko had already turned and walked off, his boot soles making the wooden pier creak under his weight. With his back turned to Komatsu, he gave a casual wave of his hand, as if swatting away a fly. "Keep up. Your prep station is gonna be on the crocodile's back." Komatsu gripped his luggage handle tightly and hurried after him. His shadow stretched long in the sunlight, overlapping right on top of Toriko's. Deep in the woods at the end of the pier, something let out a low roar powerful enough to shake leaves from the trees. Toriko didn't break his stride, but the corners of his mouth curled upward. A mixture of anxiety and hunger churned acid in Komatsu's stomach. He took a deep breath, swallowing the salty sea air along with the beast's roar. Ahead, the outline of the Gourmet Island was revealing itself inch by inch through the morning mist.