"Really? Time flew by so fast, I hardly noticed. But yeah, I've grown a bit. Last time we met, I was only 2.8 meters tall—now I'm just over three. I guess that's why I look a lot bulkier, huh?" Ortoren tossed the towel onto the table and spoke casually.
Just as he finished, Katakuri pushed the door open and entered, followed by a man who looked to be in his forties. There was no doubt—the man trailing behind Katakuri in a biscuit disguise was Cracker. But Ortoren didn't care who he was and didn't bother asking.
"I thought you looked taller. I wonder if you'll surpass me someday? Or maybe even Mama?" Katakuri said with a smile, sitting down on a stone bench in the courtyard. He motioned for Cracker to sit as well and introduced him, "This is Cracker—he's your younger brother by a year..."
"Cracker?" Ortoren finally took notice of him, his expression slightly surprised. Then, as if something clicked, a look of understanding crossed his face. He didn't ask further, just gave a nod in greeting.
Cracker was just about to speak, but Ortoren had already turned his attention back to Katakuri, saying, "Forget it. I think I'm tall enough. Any taller and I'd be pushing it. Hopefully, I stop growing soon..."
Katakuri stood over five meters tall, and Charlotte Linlin was even more extreme—almost nine meters. Ortoren might have appreciated the hulking brute aesthetic, but this was pushing it. Hard pass!
"That's not really up to you. It's in your blood. You inherited Mama's genes, so maybe..." Katakuri trailed off, noticing Ortoren wasn't keen to keep talking about it. He changed the subject with a smile, "Were you forging just now? Using the materials I brought you?"
That piqued Ortoren's interest. He perked up and said enthusiastically, "Yeah, perfect timing. I just finished it—was even hammering down the leftover scraps..."
As he spoke, Ortoren picked up the item from the forge table.
It was a long-handled war hammer!
Even at over three meters tall, Ortoren holding the weapon still made its sheer size stand out. The hammerhead was a rectangular block with defined edges, lined with integrated studs on both faces. Katakuri roughly estimated the hammer to be nearly four meters in length.
The entire weapon had a dark matte finish. The head was etched with deep golden patterns that, on closer look, resembled bull horns. The bottom of the handle featured two stacked square cones, also engraved with similar golden designs.
Overall, the war hammer wasn't flashy—just solid, understated, and powerful.
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have found the right materials—especially the Thousand Ton Stone..." Ortoren said with gratitude.
Katakuri, seeing Ortoren in such good spirits, replied, "Mama was the one who got those materials for you. I was just the messenger..."
Ortoren paused, then smacked his lips reluctantly. "Fine. Then thanks to her too."
Noticing the shift in Ortoren's tone, Katakuri smiled with some relief and asked, "So, how many pieces of Thousand Ton Stone did you use?"
"Not many—just five!" Ortoren said offhandedly.
Katakuri's expression stiffened slightly. He glanced again at the war hammer that Ortoren wielded so effortlessly, and the corners of his mouth twitched under his scarf.
"You really are something else..."
Thousand Ton Stone, true to its name, was unimaginably heavy. Despite "stone" in its name, it was actually a rare metal of terrifying density—and terrifying weight. Katakuri had delivered five brick-sized pieces to Ortoren, and just transporting them nearly stopped his flagship from sailing due to the excessive draft. That alone showed how insanely heavy the material was.
"No way! A war hammer made from Thousand Ton Stone, and you're swinging it around like it's nothing? What, you think you're Mama or something?" Cracker suddenly jumped in, his voice full of disbelief.
Maybe it was because he was only seventeen—an age prone to rebellion. Or maybe it was the sudden appearance of this older brother over half a year ago that left him skeptical. But most likely, it was the fact that for the past several months, both Mama and Katakuri kept bringing up this guy named "Benn Ortoren," and it grated on him. Whatever the reason, Cracker had developed a natural dislike for Ortoren.
Ortoren didn't even acknowledge the outburst. He casually set the war hammer back down on the solid, heavy forge table, then sat across from Katakuri.
Cracker grew even more irritated at being ignored and was about to speak again when Katakuri called his name in a slightly displeased tone, shutting him up.
Katakuri gave a helpless smile and said to Ortoren, "This guy's got a bit of a nasty temper, but—"
"I don't care about him. No need to explain," Ortoren waved him off, speaking with easy confidence.
"Figures. Whether it's your looks or your personality, you really don't seem like someone your age..." Katakuri remarked.
"Hahahaha! Coming from you, that's rich. I've never thought you looked like a twenty-year-old kid either, so I'd say we're even." Ortoren laughed heartily.
"Fair enough... Still, thank you," Katakuri said with a smile after thinking it over.
"Thanks to you, I was able to forge a weapon I'm actually satisfied with. I should be thanking you. What are you thanking me for?" Ortoren waved his hand dismissively, then grabbed a kettle—just a plain one you'd find in any farmhouse—and poured a full mug of hot water for Katakuri like it was some fancy tea.
Katakuri might have been a pirate's son, but in the New World, he was practically royalty—as the prince of Totto Land, everything he consumed was usually of the highest quality. Still, he didn't bat an eye at the plain hot water. He even pulled down his scarf without hesitation, revealing his fearsome mouth as he took a couple of sips.
Then he continued, "Thanks for not flying off the handle like you used to—and for not beating Cracker to a pulp and tossing him out."
Their first meeting had been a lot less peaceful than this.
Hearing that, Ortoren let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "The full moon's coming. I'm feeling anxious, so I've been making a conscious effort to control my temper lately... Just think of it as a kind of spiritual training."
"Oh? Spiritual training? Got any secret methods? Mind sharing them? You know I've got a knack for Observation Haki, and training that kind of Haki requires..." Katakuri asked curiously.
"Uh... forging, fishing, and next, I plan to read more books..." Ortoren said, slightly embarrassed.
Katakuri blinked, then chuckled. "That's... a blunt and fitting answer for you."
Blunt or not, he didn't press about its effectiveness. After all, the fact that Cracker was still sitting there was proof enough. Clearly, Ortoren's temper had stabilized lately.
That thought made Katakuri glance at Ortoren's forehead again, where a pair of horns curved upward, towering like those of a mighty bull.
That's right—Ortoren wasn't fully human. He was a hybrid born of Charlotte Linlin and a bull-type Mink.
With the full moon approaching, Ortoren, as a Mink hybrid, would enter the "Sulong" state on that night.
For the Mink Tribe, this transformation was simply a bloodline-induced frenzy. Most young Minks couldn't resist the surge at first and would lose control, going berserk. But after experiencing the Sulong state a few times, most eventually learned to master it.
But Ortoren couldn't. And it wasn't because he was a hybrid. He wasn't the only Mink hybrid in the world—others eventually managed to control their power after a few rampages.
The real problem was the other blood running through his veins—the blood of the "monster" known as Charlotte Linlin.
For some reason, whenever Ortoren entered Sulong, it was like Charlotte Linlin during one of her food cravings—he'd completely lose his mind and become a raging, mindless beast.