As soon as Jack said those words, Kouzaburou felt something incredible coursing through his body. The strength of his youth had not only returned but had multiplied several times over.
The life force that Laffitte had shared with him was immense, equivalent to the vitality of ten strong men combined.
Every muscle and joint that had once been burdened by time now pulsed with new energy, stronger and sharper than he remembered from his younger days.
Yet despite the astonishing feeling of renewal, Kouzaburou's attention was not on himself. His gaze remained fixed on the two swords before him, as if their presence alone called to the craftsman deep within him.
Without wasting a moment, Kouzaburou turned to Jack and Issho. "Come," he said briefly, his voice filled with purpose.
He led them down a narrow path that curved through a cluster of trees until they reached a large traditional house built in the old Japanese style.
The structure was elegant but sturdy, with wooden floors and sliding doors, resembling the grand homes of the upper class in the Land of Wano or those seen in stories set in feudal Japan.
It was both his home and his forge, a place where his family lived and where countless blades had been born from fire.
As they approached the entrance, Jack noticed another man standing outside. He bore a strong resemblance to the younger samurai who had accompanied them earlier, but unlike his brother's lively, restless energy, this one carried himself with a calm, disciplined presence.
His expression was steady and composed, the kind of stillness that came from years of self-control.
"Greetings," the calm one said, bowing respectfully. "My brother has told me that you saved not only our town but also his life. You have my deepest gratitude. My name is Shimotsuki Koushirou. Whatever favor you wish to ask, please tell me, and I will do everything within my power to see it done."
Koushirou then said as he then introduced himself, as well as with his brother approaching him first and whispering what happened earlier.
Jack blinked in mild confusion. He had assumed the younger samurai accompanying them was Koushirou himself, given how similar they looked.
There had been no mention of Koushirou having a brother, let alone one who appeared nearly identical.
The rowdy twin grinned proudly and raised his hand. "Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Shimotsuki Kuwajima, proud samurai of the Land of Wano."
Before he could continue, Koushirou smacked him lightly on the head with the hilt of his sword. "How many times has Father told you not to say that out loud? We are not to draw unnecessary attention to our family's origins. And besides, you and I were not born in Wano. Father had already left that land long before we were born."
Kuwajima rubbed the spot on his head and gave a sheepish laugh. "Ah, right right. Still, let's keep that a secret, alright? Don't tell anyone." He raised his pinky finger with a childish grin, expecting everyone to join in the gesture.
Jack chuckled. "You can trust us to keep your secret," he said, smiling. "But I'm not doing that little pinky thing. That's for children. Are you a child?"
The rest of the crew laughed loudly, and Kuwajima's face turned completely red. He quickly lowered his hand, muttering something under his breath that made the laughter even louder.
"Why don't you all come inside?" Koushirou said, still smiling faintly at his brother's embarrassment. "You are our Father's guests, after all. Speaking of Father, where is he?"
Jack glanced around, realizing that Kouzaburou was no longer beside them. Before he could answer, Issho's absence also became apparent.
"Issho's missing too," Jack said quickly, alerting his crew. Everyone looked around, surprised that none of them had noticed him slip away. Jack frowned, not because he couldn't sense him, but because he had let his guard down enough to stop paying attention.
"They're probably at the forge," Kuwajima said casually. "Brother, you'll be surprised when you see Father. That man with the strange face covering somehow turned him young again. He looks decades younger, and he's more eager to work than I've ever seen him."
Koushirou's eyes widened slightly. "You can't be serious," he replied, though his tone softened when he remembered that Kuwajima was terrible at lying. He decided to see for himself.
They moved toward the forge, following the faint sound of metal tools and the smell of burning wood. When they entered, Koushirou stopped in his tracks.
Standing before the kiln was a much younger Kouzaburou, his posture straight and steady, his face no longer aged by time. The sight confirmed Kuwajima's words completely.
Nearby stood Issho, observing the process with quiet fascination, though Kouzaburou had not yet begun his actual work.
The master was still preparing the fire, carefully adjusting the kiln with practiced motions.
"Ah, there you are," Kouzaburou said without looking up. "Can you please take this man away? I cannot work with a spectator standing this close." He gestured toward Issho, who looked genuinely startled.
"What? I thought we were bonding over swords," Issho protested mildly, tilting his head in confusion.
Kouzaburou gave him an irritated look, though the excitement in his expression masked it well. Issho couldn't see it clearly, but the mix of irritation and enthusiasm on Kouzaburou's face made the others smile quietly.
Before the situation could turn awkward, Jack and the crew gently dragged Issho out of the forge. Issho tried to stay, insisting that he wanted to watch the process, but several of them overpowered him easily and pushed him outside.
Inside, the two brothers began preparing for what came next. They knew that once Kouzaburou started working, his body would demand immense energy. They needed to prepare food — and a lot of it. Koushirou and Kuwajima gathered ingredients while the crew waited curiously nearby.
"What exactly is he going to do in there?" Jack asked, looking toward Kuwajima, who seemed to understand his father's work best.
"He said that your sword and that man's sword have no pride or will," Kuwajima replied, his tone calm. "So, I think he plans to reforge them, to give them spirit and purpose. Don't worry, the quality of the metal won't be lost, and the sharpness won't fade. If anything, they'll come out stronger than before. You can trust my father's craftsmanship."
Jack nodded, thinking deeply. The explanation made sense, but it stirred other thoughts within him.
He remembered the expression Kouzaburou had when he appeared first on screen — the face of someone who had given up long ago.
It reminded Jack of the way Koushirou had once spoken after Kuina's death in the stories he remembered, saying that human life is fragile.
Perhaps, Jack thought, there was a connection between these events, something deeper about loss and renewal that repeated itself across generations.
As Jack pondered this, Kuwajima motioned for everyone to follow him into the kitchen area. Once there, he removed his sword and set it carefully aside.
From a nearby shelf, he brought out a large wooden box, opening it to reveal various cooking utensils.
With practiced ease, he switched from the stance of a warrior to that of a chef, his movements fluid and precise.
Jack and the others watched in quiet amazement as Kuwajima began chopping, slicing, and mixing ingredients with astonishing speed.
His knife skills were as sharp as his swordsmanship, each motion deliberate yet graceful. Koushirou stood nearby, quietly assisting, while the rich aroma of cooking food began to fill the air.
Jack smiled widely, watching the samurai work. The thought came to him immediately and made him grin even more. 'We've found our chef,' he thought to himself.
Aramaki, standing beside him, noticed the familiar look on Jack's face. He gave Jack a knowing nod, understanding exactly what that grin meant.
Whenever Jack smiled like that, it was only a matter of time before someone new joined the crew.