At The Peak of One Piece

Victor turned and walked over to the Wild Boar King's corpse, glanced at his handiwork, and smiled. "Not bad. I'm getting better at mastering the Snow Step technique." He was very satisfied with his time training at sea.

He hoisted up the boar and went to a small stream in the forest to clean it up. Then he built a fire by the water and started roasting the meat. He had plenty of seasonings in his backpack—Victor always cared about good food and had plenty of experience surviving outdoors.

He saved one big leg unroasted, planning to give it to Koushirou as a welcome gift tomorrow. Once the boar was cooked, he sprinkled on all kinds of spices, made a dipping sauce, and dug in.

After eating all the meat, his digestion was so strong it felt like he was digesting while still eating. Victor guessed his stomach had learned the skill of life regeneration—eating and digesting simultaneously, storing energy efficiently. He figured the entire Garp family had this skill; otherwise, how could they eat so much?

Victor also thought it was related to Garp's teachings. He remembered from his past life watching One Piece how Garp told Ace and Luffy, "You need to eat as much as possible to prepare for battles that might come at any time. This is very important for marines. You two better remember that."

So Ace and Luffy developed incredible appetites, even able to eat while sleeping.

Victor thought Garp's advice made a lot of sense. His incredible stamina and strength were definitely linked to this.

...

After finishing the meat, Victor put out the fire with water and carried the boar leg out of the forest. He wanted to check out the place he had seen earlier.

Less than half an hour later, he returned to that spot, then turned toward the column of smoke. Victor walked casually—he had briefly scoped out the forest and found nothing he couldn't handle.

Getting closer to the smoke, he could now make out the shape of a small house. The smoke rose steadily from a chimney in the middle. Victor thought it couldn't be an ordinary house—cooking wouldn't produce that much smoke for so long. Several hours had passed, and the smoke was still coming. Victor was curious. The place wasn't far from Shimotsuki Village—what could it be?

As he got nearer, the sound of metal striking metal grew louder and more rhythmic. Victor guessed it was a blacksmith's shop, right in the forest. He didn't believe it had nothing to do with Koushirou.

When he reached the house, the hammering stopped. The door creaked open, and an old man with white hair stepped out. He was about five-foot-three, wearing a sleeveless cloth shirt that showed strong muscles on his arms. He looked at Victor, puzzled.

"Stranger, what brings you here?" the old man asked suspiciously.

Victor knew this old man was surely connected to Kouzaburou, so he smiled and answered politely, "Sir, I heard there's a Kendo dojo here on the island, the Isshin Dojo. I came from outside the island to seek apprenticeship."

"Apprenticeship? Your swordsmanship looks strong. Why come here to learn?" The old man was still doubtful. He could tell Victor's sword skills were quite advanced—people at this level usually had already left their masters and needed to walk their own path.

"Sir, the thing is, I previously got hold of a basic kendo manual and have been self-studying from it. I want to come here to learn systematically, to fill in the advanced parts I'm missing," Victor said sincerely, pulling out the basic kendo booklet and handing it over.

The old man was very surprised—a self-taught beginner's manual? For someone so young to reach this level, the talent must be exceptional.

He took the booklet and examined it. It was indeed a comprehensive kendo foundation.

"My name is Kouzaburou. The head of Isshin Dojo is my son, Koushirou. Tomorrow I'll write you a recommendation letter. With it, your apprenticeship is almost guaranteed." Kouzaburou admired Victor's talent and intended to have his son train him well—making a good connection.

Victor wasn't surprised. At this point in time, Kouzaburou should still be alive. He was a master swordsmith and was forging nearby the Isshin Dojo, which all made sense.

"That's wonderful! This boar leg is from my hunt—please accept it as a gift," Victor said with a smile. 

Koushirou's grandfather, Kouzaburou, didn't refuse. Though he could hunt such game himself, he'd been too absorbed in forging a blade to spare the time. 

Given Koushirou's ties to the Revolutionary Army, Kouzaburou rarely left this secluded spot, living simply to avoid drawing attention. But forging demanded strength—and strength required proper sustenance. This boar leg would last him a while. 

"Sir, what are you working on here?" Victor gestured to the hut, feigning ignorance. 

"Hah! I'm a bladesmith. This is my forge. Crafting a fine sword for my granddaughter," Kouzaburou replied frankly. 

Victor's eyes widened in (somewhat exaggerated) surprise. "A bladesmith?! Could you teach me the craft?" 

This was his real goal. 

Victor wanted a blade tailored to him—but this world's smiths knew nothing of the swords from his past. His solution? Learn to forge his own. 

Originally, he'd planned to study at Marine HQ when the time came. But stumbling upon Kouzaburou—one of the greatest smiths alive—was a stroke of fate he wouldn't waste. 

Kouzaburou raised an eyebrow. "I thought you came to learn swordsmanship. Why forging?" 

"Master Kouzaburou," Victor said earnestly, "a swordsman's journey begins with the smith's hammer. We choose from existing blades, then spend years adapting to them. The gifted master their weapons; the rest… well." 

He paused, then added solemnly: 

"But even geniuses remain reactive—bound by their sword's nature. True unity between man and blade? That requires crafting the blade *yourself.*" 

Kouzaburou's breath hitched. 

"Unity between man and blade"—he'd never heard the term, but its meaning was unmistakable. A realm beyond mastery. 

As a descendant of Shimotsuki Ryuma, the legendary "Dragon-Slayer," Kouzaburou had seen countless swordsmen. Yet this young man spoke of a path even his ancestors hadn't treaded. 

"Boy… your ambition dwarfs any I've met." Kouzaburou gazed at the sky, awed. "Could such a swordsman… sever the moon itself?" 

Victor waited silently as the old smith lost himself in thought. 

Finally, Kouzaburou snapped back to reality. "Very well. Mornings at the dojo for swordplay. Afternoons here—learning the forge." 

He sighed. "Doubt I'll live to see your 'unity' achieved. A shame." 

Missing such a pinnacle would haunt him beyond the grave. 

"Understood, sensei," Victor grinned. 

"Bah! Call me 'old brother.' You're 'little brother' to me," Kouzaburou waved him off, chuckling. 

He sensed Victor's destiny would eclipse even the greatest smiths. No way he'd presume to be called "teacher." 

Victor blinked. "But… what about your son? How do I address *him*?" 

Kouzaburou cackled. "Figure it out yourself!"