Although Saitō has no love for guns (and really, plenty of distaste for them), he simply nods. He fully intends to keep to the blade wherever possible, but as much as it stings to realize it, Toba-Fushimi was a clear demonstration of how easily firearms can dominate a battlefield, and with everything at stake...

For a warrior to put aside their sword, in his beliefs, is for a warrior to put aside his soul. But it's his duty to fight this, and as he told Kazama, he will do anything required of him to fulfill his duty.

He's already given up his humanity. Could this really be any worse?

At Honor's suggestion, though, the slightest flicker of a (humorless) smile finds its way to his face. "What looks flashy in a regulated match seldom has much to do with what kills most effectively on the battlefield." He can remember all too many arguments he's had about that - all too many so-called masters of their art who insisted that his choice to fight with his left hand rather than force himself to learn to use his right was cheating, that his victories were meaningless. Men who couldn't beat him.

Men who would have been dead, had he faced them in war and not in peace.

"Your proposition is acceptable, Commodore Harrington."