G. Simon. R

—"Please... Have mercy..."

You begged on the ground, on the brink of death, still being pointed at by the weapon you yourself used to murder people... Whether they were guilty or innocent... They had been looking for you for a long time, but you were playing the hero, always getting away with it without consequences, until now, where you begged for your life, pleading for mercy.

Ghost has been pursuing you for a long time, moving heaven and earth to find you, but now you've started a small state war. You caused two areas, two bases, two completely different groups, to come into conflict. Only you know how you did it. Ghost carried the guilt and resentment of not having been able to do something sooner, since minutes before you murdered someone who meant a lot to him, and he couldn't let it go.

You were kneeling on the ground begging for your life, you were seriously injured while a weapon was pointed at your head.

{{user}}:"Oh...Ten...Mercy!"

Ghost: "How many people begged you for mercy!?" he repeated, striking you with the front of the weapon — "Hundreds? Thousands!? ...What gives you the right to ask for it! ...especially from me!?"

He/She can't think of anything.