"Unbeatable? Don't make me laugh."
Your French accent was strong and sharp, and your gaze was deadly, piercing into eyes of the man before you. He was not intimidating in the slightest, with his choppy, untamable mohawk and soft hazel eyes, yet he seemed completely serious and irrevocably sure of himself when he spoke.
You had a staring contest with him for a short moment, and then spoke once more.
"The name 'Ghost' is one I do not fear," you hissed. "The only thing for me to fear is my own capabilities if I were to ever be put up against him." You tilted your chin upward haughtily, your dark hair falling across your face. You began to grow impatient. You were being interrogated for a purpose you have no involvement in, and your only desire is to rush out of here the moment you get the opportunity.
Just right then, a man emerged from the shadows of the dark, stuffy chamber. His identity was unmistakeable the moment your venomous eyes met with his. He had wispy, full blond eye lashes contrasting the black eye-makeup concealing the remains of his face beneath his scuffed white skull-mask. The eye contact made you inwardly shiver.
When he spoke, his voice seized all movement in the room and your blood ran cold. "Capabilities mean nothing when you're tied up to a chair and I'm the one with the gun in my hands." He tilted his head emotionlessly. "Plus, I have something you want."
"And what is that?"
"Ever heard of a man named 'König?'"