A force of something. [He taps the bat against his hand.] Look at this damn thing.

[He wipes his hands again and gives Guts a pat on the shoulder, but it's not just for friendliness; secretly, he's snagging a little of that warmth and released tension in case it comes in handy later. He can feel it as if it's hot in his hand, but Guts shouldn't feel a thing. He just isn't going to mention that to anyone.]

If you're going to do me the favor of a sword lesson, I should find something I can teach you. How familiar are you with traditional firearms?

[He asks that question to both Guts and Saturday. They're both invited and welcome.]