"Heh. I feel like I'd be a perfect fit for this Shichibukai thing."
Jin lounged on the sofa, smirking at the newspaper in his hand.
"Shut up! You're a Marine, not a pirate!" Loguetown base commander Mao roared from the side.
Jin ignored his dark expression and tilted his head.
"So? Why'd you call me here this time?"
Colonel Mao took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
"Orders from Headquarters. You're to be the new highest officer of Loguetown Marine base. I'm retiring."
Jin blinked.
"Huh? What kind of joke is that? You think I'm stupid enough to take that kind of job?"
"You little bastard!" Mao's forehead veins bulged like he was owed five million beli.
Jin shook his head.
"Besides, my beloved sword's broken. I need to go to Shimotsuki Village and get someone to repair it. I don't have time for this political nonsense."
Mao sprayed spit.
"Idiot! This is an order from Headquarters!"
Jin stood up, clearly done.
"Tch. Not like it's the first time I've ignored them. Anyway, I'm off."
He turned to leave.
"Get back here, you brat!" Mao shouted, helpless.
"If you keep this up, your career will be over!"
Jin looked back at him and smiled.
"Colonel Mao, do you honestly think someone like me is suited for a big, proper post?"
"Uh…"
"Bastard!"
There was nothing Mao could do.
In the end, he picked up the transponder snail and called Headquarters.
"This is Loguetown Marine Base. Colonel Mao speaking."
When a guard brought Sengoku the report, the Fleet Admiral's face went dark instantly.
"That brat—what does he mean by this?! Saying being a Warlord suits him better? Saying being a base commander isn't 'free'?!"
"Little bastard!"
His roar echoed through the building.
"Ara ara… looks like Jin-kun stirred up trouble again," Aokiji yawned.
Kizaru crossed his arms, looking envious.
"So scary, yo~. Kids these days… I'm jealous they can talk to their bosses like that."
Jin knew none of this.
He'd already set out, broken greatsword in a box, headed for Shimotsuki Village.
Two days later, the Marine ship came to shore.
Jin stood on deck, looking at the village ahead, and waved.
"So this is Shimotsuki Village? Not bad."
"Alright, you guys head back. No clue how long this sword will take to fix."
"Yes, sir!"
Jin hopped onto the pier, picked up his box, and strolled into town.
He watched people moving about, stalls busy, children running.
"Been a while since I felt this kind of peaceful, everyday life."
After asking around, he found the way to Isshin Dojo and followed the directions.
Before long, the dojo came into view—a traditional-style building with a wooden sign.
Jin looked up at the characters, then knocked on the gate.
"Anyone home? Sawadee-kap."
The door slid open with a creak.
A bespectacled man in his thirties smiled faintly.
"A big shot, huh? To what do we owe the honor of a famous Marine paying us a visit?"
Jin didn't rise to the bait.
"You treat all your guests like this, Dojo Master?"
"My apologies. That was rude,"Shimotsuki Koushirou said mildly.
"But you never know if someone is friend or foe."
Jin smiled back.
"Whether I'm a friend or foe… I'll let you decide that yourself."
Koushirou studied him for a moment.
"Forgive my manners. Please, come inside."
They entered the dojo.
In the training yard, kids of various ages were swinging bamboo swords.
"Hei! Hah!"
Jin followed Koushirou into the guest room and sat down.
Koushirou started making tea with agonizing slowness.
Jin, who hated this sort of drawn-out stuff, felt his eye twitch.
But he was the one asking for a favor, so he forced himself to be patient.
In the next room, a seven-year-old kid was peeking through the crack in the door.
Koushirou set a cup of tea in front of him.
"Please, Lieutenant Commander Jin."
Jin took a sip.
It was… fine. Tea just wasn't his thing.
He put the cup down and got straight to the point.
"I'm looking for someone named Shimotsuki Kousaburou. I want him to repair my sword."
"Oh?"
Koushirou glanced at the box.
Inside, the greatsword lay in three broken pieces.
He said calmly, "I don't know where you heard my father's name, but he's very old now. He's retired from forging."
He was expressionless.
That alone told Jin he wasn't looking to help.
Jin smiled.
"Heh. You help me with this, and I'll help you with something in return. How about that?"
Koushirou smiled back.
"Oh? I don't recall needing any help from you, Lieutenant Commander. Aren't you being presumptuous?"
"No. You do need it."
Jin's smile only widened.
"Then by all means, tell me. What could I possibly need from you?"
As Jin spoke, Koushirou's eyes slowly widened.
Horror flickered across his usually calm face.
"I can choose not to report your little dealings with the Revolutionary Army and your black-market grain shipments. Isn't that right… Dragon?"
Jin turned his head toward the next room.
Koushirou fell silent.
The door slid open.
A man in a green cloak stepped out.
"I didn't think your Observation Haki had reached this level," Dragon said.
Behind him came a tall woman in a red strap dress.
Jin took another sip of tea.
"Heh. It's not like I'm blind."
"I sensed your aura in Loguetown not long ago. And the signs here clearly showed someone had been hosted just before I arrived."
"Plus, that green cloak of yours is a dead giveaway. I could practically see it through the wall."
"Hi-hah! I didn't know Jin boy could observe so carefully. You hunted us down in a flash!" Ivankov, in her female form, said, standing on one leg and staring at him wide-eyed.
"Enough, Iva," Dragon said, taking a seat and pouring himself tea like he was at home.
"We didn't bother hiding that much. Getting found isn't surprising."
Jin looked back at Koushirou, still smiling.
"So? Master Koushirou. Can I help you or not?"
Koushirou's face darkened.
"As expected of the 'Thug of East Blue'… I concede this round."
"Thank you for the compliment," Jin said cheerfully.
At that moment, an elderly man walked in, white hair tied back.
His gaze went straight to the broken sword.
He didn't say anything at first.
Jin knew at once—this was the man he'd come for.
Shimotsuki Kousaburou.
The old man stared at the blade for a while.
"This sword is no famed blade," he said at last.
"Repairing it will be simple. But are you sure you want it fixed?"
"Even if I repair it, once you turn it into a black blade in the future, it'll still never reach the level of a Supreme Grade sword."
"And if you misuse it in battle, it may break again…"
He let the rest hang.
Jin bowed his head slightly.
"Even if it's not some divine weapon, this sword is important to me. It's my last keepsake."
"I'd be grateful if you'd take the trouble, old man."
Kousaburou sighed.
"Very well. You're a man who truly loves his blade."
"I still have some of the material I smuggled out back then."
"It won't reach Great Grade level… but it'll be close."
"Thank you, old-timer."
Jin watched him heft the heavy box in one hand and walk out casually.
Eighty jin of metal, carried like it weighed nothing.
Yeah, this old man was no joke.
With the sword problem handled, Jin stayed in the dojo and chatted idly with Dragon from time to time.
The next few days, Jin wandered the village, enjoying the slower pace.
Until one day—
A loud, childish shout came from the front gate.
"Hey! Are you the master here? I'm here to challenge your dojo!"
Jin turned.
A little green-haired brat stood there, chin raised, voice full of swagger.
Jin couldn't help himself.
He sighed.
"So I get to witness history again…?"
First Gol D. Roger's execution.
Now the future world's greatest swordsman.
Zoro felt weird under his gaze.
"Hey, why are you looking at me like that? Are you the master or not?"
Jin shook his head.
"Nope."
He pointed behind Zoro.
"He is."
Koushirou walked over calmly.
"Oh!"
Zoro looked him over, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"I'm here to challenge your dojo."
Koushirou's eyes narrowed slightly.
"My, my. It's been a while since I've heard the words 'dojo challenge.' Come with me."
"Hmph."
Zoro strutted inside, a stalk of grass between his teeth, swaggering like a mini Garp.
Jin followed, barely keeping it together.
Just thinking about the upcoming scene where Kuina absolutely demolishes Zoro…
He couldn't hold it in.
"Pfft."
He burst out laughing.
Zoro whipped around.
"What are you laughing at? Do I look funny to you?"
Jin forced his grin down.
"Nothing. I just remembered that a little guy is about to get beaten to tears. It made me happy."
"Damn you! You're the one who's gonna cry!" Zoro's face darkened.
"Pff—"
Jin lost it and laughed again.
He really hadn't expected kid Zoro to be this cocky.
"Hmph."
In the main hall, the disciples sat in two rows on their knees.
Jin, unable to get used to that, just sat cross-legged at the end.
Koushirou looked at Zoro and spoke gently.
"Well then, challenger. Please give us your name."
Zoro shoved his hands into his pockets, head tilted, grass in his mouth.
"I'm Roronoa Zoro. The man who'll become the world's greatest swordsman."
Everyone in the hall laughed.
Zoro didn't care.
Koushirou smiled.
"If you win, we'll admit defeat."
"But if you lose…?"
Zoro smirked.
"I won't lose.
But if I do, I'll stay and become your student."
Jin's eyes lit up.
What a calculation.
If he wins, he gets fame. If he loses, he gets a master.
Not bad, brat. Not bad.
Maybe sensing Jin's gaze, Zoro shot him a glare.
"Very well," Koushirou said, clapping his hands.
"Kuina, come out."
From the side room stepped a short-haired girl about 1.2 meters tall, wooden sword in hand.
Jin studied her.
This was the girl who'd broken countless readers' hearts—Kuina.
Her foundation was solid. Her posture was sharp.
She stopped in front of Zoro.
Her voice was calm.
"Go pick out a sword."
Zoro frowned.
"What? I'm not fighting a woman."
That one sentence made Kuina's brows knit together.
Her father had never stopped saying women couldn't become great swordsmen.
She loathed that idea.
"Are you a coward? Too scared to pick up a sword…"
"Ha?!"
Zoro exploded and bolted to the weapon rack loaded with bamboo swords.
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