The katana is one of the few Japanese artifacts with actual historical value. As early as China's Song Dynasty, Chinese scholars admired Japanese blades, treating them as luxury items and even composing poetry to praise their craftsmanship and value—such as Ouyang Xiu's Song of the Japanese Sword.
Katanas are categorized by shape and length, generally divided into tachi, uchigatana, wakizashi, and tantō (also known as short swords, often used for seppuku). There is also the naginata, a polearm sometimes referred to as the "eyebrow blade."
Naginatas typically have a handle between one to two meters long, with a blade length of 30 to 60 centimeters. During the Edo period, samurai were prohibited from carrying naginatas, leading to their exclusion from the katana family. Over time, they became associated with female samurai, much like how players of certain action RPGs may recognize the Grasscutter's Flash—though many might prefer the original voice actress's rendition of the Raiden Shogun's attacks.
In truth, tachi and uchigatana are essentially the same sword. Their differences are primarily in length and how they are worn. Tachi are worn with the edge facing downward, while uchigatana are worn with the edge facing upward.
Katanas are best classified as collectible antiques rather than serious battlefield weapons—much like European rapiers or the oversized swords of wuxia legends. In fact, they are even less practical than those.
At least a rapier or a greatsword has armor-piercing capabilities. If they can't slice through, they can still stab. Katanas, on the other hand, prioritize sharpness at the cost of durability.
They are useless against plate armor, ineffective against padded chainmail, and poor at thrusting due to their curved blade and brittleness.
This is why, in the Muromachi period, a specialized armor-piercing short sword called the yoroi-dōshi ("armor-piercer") was developed. These blades were much thicker to ensure they could penetrate armor effectively.
In summary, katanas excel at cutting unarmored opponents thanks to localized tempering that hardens the blade edge. However, they were mostly worn as status symbols. Song Dynasty scholars even believed they had talismanic properties, treating them as decorative curios.
Historically, the so-called "sword saints" of Japan—who emerged from village skirmishes—weren't actually known for katana techniques. Instead, they were masters of spears and firearms.
A certain game features a "sword saint" who wields a one-cut slashing technique but keeps a hidden spear and rapid-fire gun in his belt. This detail isn't just fantasy—it has historical precedent.
After Toyotomi Hideyoshi issued the Sword Hunt Edict, separating warriors from peasants, the katana became an exclusive privilege of the samurai class. Considering that the Yakuza evolved from these disenfranchised samurai, it made sense that Richie preferred katanas.
Jack, unfortunately, hadn't had time to procure a Chinese podao and tie a red silk ribbon to it for an authentic Breaking Blade Eight Styles demonstration—a technique that once terrified Richie's ancestors.
However, the "Sword of Physics" he currently wielded was just as effective.
This modern masterpiece was crafted from T10A carbon tool steel, featuring an octagonal shape and undergoing high-temperature quenching. Its hardness ranged between HRC60–64.
Most importantly, Jack had specifically chosen an imported version. The label read proudly: Made in China.
"Who the hell are you?" Richie demanded. Perhaps because Jack wasn't Asian, the insult Little Japanese hadn't fully enraged him. He kept his eyes locked on Jack, holding his katana vertically in a ready stance.
Jack ignored the question. Instead, he smirked, "Aren't you supposed to say something? Like, 'My enemy is ashamed, I shall strip them of their armor'?"
"...Huh?" Richie's sneer faltered. He had no idea what Jack was referencing—an old joke only Chinese gamers would recognize. After a long pause, he finally responded, "If anyone's saying that, it'll be me—after I cut you down."
Seeing as this foreigner had taken down over a dozen of his men without using a gun, Richie knew escape was impossible. His only chance was to defeat this lunatic.
"AHHHH!"
With a furious roar, Richie raised his katana overhead and slashed downward in a devastating kesagiri (diagonal cut).
Clang!
A crisp metallic ring echoed as Jack intercepted the blade, gripping the hooked end of his crowbar. A perfectly executed parry.
Richie stumbled back three steps, instinctively glancing at his weapon. His katana now had a jagged notch the size of a pinky finger.
Jack let out a curious hum. Huh. Misjudged it. From the aged scabbard, he had assumed Richie's sword was a so-called "ancestral treasure." Turns out, it was just a modern Japanese katana.
If it had been an actual hand-forged blade—a thin strip of brittle metal—it would've snapped in half from that exchange.
Modern factory-made katanas were far more resilient. Despite the chipped edge, the blade hadn't shattered entirely.
"Go on," Jack beckoned with a casual wave. With his enhanced reflexes and perception, he had no problem letting Richie take the first move.
The saying goes: "All martial arts are invincible; only speed is unbreakable. Those who rely on momentum falter when their momentum fades. Those who rely on strength perish when their strength wanes."
That line might've been from a movie villain, but there was truth to it.
Fighting techniques, at their core, are honed through thousands of repetitions to develop muscle memory and, ultimately, speed.
Some use misdirection to break an opponent's focus. Others opt for relentless aggression. Either way, the goal is the same—to bypass the enemy's guard and strike a vital point.
Richie chose the latter.
Samurai were known for their dramatic battle cries and aggressive posturing, but their real skill lay in speed. The most famous example? Iaijutsu—a glorified sneak attack.
With another fierce shout, Richie unleashed a dazzling flurry of Iai Twelve Forms—a rapid sequence of strikes, slashes, and thrusts:
Thrust!Diagonal cut!Overhead feint!Palm-up thrust!Multi-directional slashes!
Jack, wielding his crowbar in one hand, focused entirely on Richie's eyes.
He deflected, parried, and countered with perfect precision—standing his ground without giving an inch.
Clang!Clang!Clang!
The relentless sound of metal clashing filled the room, making it seem like a blacksmith's workshop.
By the time Richie retreated to his starting position, his hands trembled violently—his grip failing.
His once-pristine katana was now riddled with dents and cracks. The shining blade had been reduced to a jagged saw.
If Hannah were here, she'd probably scream in excitement. She loved Sekiro—a game known for its relentless parry mechanics. Seeing Jack recreate it in real life would've made her fall for him on the spot.
"B-Bastard—"
"Shut the hell up!"
Jack, having grown bored, smashed Richie's broken sword in half with one final strike.
Then, he kicked him across the room.
The snap of bone echoed as Richie crashed into the bar counter, hacking up blood.
"British-American beasts!!" Richie snarled, dragging himself up and ripping off his suit jacket and silk shirt—clearly unwilling to surrender.
Jack merely laughed and tossed aside his crowbar. Raising his fists, he beckoned Richie forward.
"Come on. Let's make this a fair fight."
"YAAAH!"
Richie, ecstatic that Jack had abandoned his weapon, grabbed a wooden chair and swung it down.
CRACK!
BOOM!
Jack replicated Don Lee's signature One Punch Man technique—stepping forward, crouching slightly, then launching a devastating right hook.
His fist obliterated the chair before slamming straight into Richie's chest.
Richie flew backward, spine-first into the bar counter.
A sickening snap followed.
Then, silence.
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