Finn sat beside Ciri across from Wakako Okada's desk while smoke drifted up from the old woman's cigarette. Another old man sat in the chair near her, dressed in dark blue smith's clothes with a heavy apron folded over his lap. The moment Finn saw them, he knew the man did real work for a living.
The smith looked from Finn to Ciri, then spoke in Japanese. Finn's translator fed him the meaning at once.
"So, customer-sama, what type of design philosophy do you want the katana and tantos to be? A smith gets mediocre results if he does not know what the weapons are meant to do. What kind of man is using them? Is he skilled? Is he large? Thin?"
Ciri only watched him, clearly lost.
Finn turned slightly toward her. "He's asking what kind of weapons you want, and what kind of men are going to use them. Big, thin, skilled, that sort of thing."
Ciri nodded once and looked back at the smith. "Well... they're agile men. If I could describe them, they're wolves. Carefree enough to roam the world, but they would die for each other, so they're fiercely loyal. They're skilled. The most skilled swordsmen I know." She paused, choosing the rest more carefully. "They don't like grand things. Keep it simple. Lightly decorated, maybe, but the weapons need to be trustworthy. Strong. Reliable. If I were to describe how they fight..."
The old man gave a small nod. One of his optics flickered. It was an auto-translator.
Ciri answered. "They fight with patience first. They watch before they commit. They test distance. They test rhythm. They do not waste movement. Their cuts are quick and clean. No flourish for its own sake. They stay light on their feet, so a lot of pirouettes. They are used to ugly fights, strange angles, and sudden lunges. They're used to enemies bigger than themselves, and stronger than themselves. And they are used to being tired, hurt, and outnumbered. So the swords should not be delicate. They should feel right in the hand."
Then Ciri glanced at Finn. "Actually..." She looked back to the smith. "I think we should move away from knives. Let us just give all of them swords."
Finn looked at her. "Not wanting to differentiate between Geralt and the others anymore?"
"No... I still want Geralt's to be more special." Ciri turned fully toward the smith again. "He is sort of my... father figure. He taught me everything I knew and cared for me when I needed it most."
Wakako gave a small nod. "A gift of love then. Three katanas, with one being more special than the others."
The smith asked another question in Japanese.
"Do you have a picture of them?"
Finn passed it along. Ciri shook her head at once. "I... don't."
Finn raised a hand. "It's not the same face, it's only renders, but this'll do."
He pulled up three old images from his notebook and sent them over: Geralt, Eskel, Lambert. Only the faces. It was old game renders, but clear enough.
Ciri turned to him, surprised first. Then her mouth curved a little when she understood what he had done.
The smith studied the images in silence for a moment. "They seem like experienced men."
"That is... one way to put it," Finn said.
Wakako turned her head toward him. "Is that enough?"
"It is more than enough," the smith said. "One could tell a lot of things from a face."
The smith turned to her again. "It will take a few weeks for me to finish the katanas. I hope that you will be patient until then, customer-sama."
He gave a small bow. Ciri, who still was not built for this sort of formal exchange, answered with an awkward nod that was earnest enough to work.
The old man rose from his chair. He bowed once to all of them. "Then I shall start my work at once. Until then, customer-sama. Okada-sama."
He stepped out of the office and closed the door behind him.
Finn watched it shut, and hummed. "Seems like a charming fellow."
"I have been a patron of Musashi since I started this business," Okada said. She tapped ash into the tray beside her elbow. "Trust me, he is the best smith I know. With modern tools and advanced materials, you will get the best swords you will ever see."
Finn shrugged. "I don't doubt that. Anyway, you got the other thing that I wanted?"
Okada opened a drawer and took out a small black box. She slid it across the desk to him. "Skill shards, and datashards containing what a ripperdoc must know. But again, Mister Wegner, I must warn you. This is not the shortcut you think it is. You still need to learn it. If your brain cannot keep up with the lessons in that chip, then it is practically useless."
Finn opened the box. Inside lay several chips seated in foam, each one marked with short labels in Japanese and English: anatomy, implant diagnostics, surgical prep, neural interface basics, emergency chrome repair.
"Mhm." He picked one up and slotted it in.
A stack of menus opened across his optics: indexed lessons, recorded procedures, augment diagrams, breakdown charts for common cyberware, drug interactions, sterile field setup, wound treatment, and nerve maps. It did not look like garbage data shoved into a pretty box. It looked real. Dense enough that even a glance made him understand Okada's warning all over again. This was very complicated stuff.
He pulled the shard back out and set it in its slot. "I know. Never went to college myself, so I'll take it one step at a time."
He put the shard back in the box and slipped the box into his pocket.
Finn pushed himself up from the chair. Ciri stood with him a moment later.
"Then I'll see you when the swords are finished," he said. "As always, pleasure doing business with you."