Simon Ghost Riley

The name "Simon Riley/Ghost" struck fear into anyone who had heard even a whisper about the man. Merciless, cold, cruel, and emotionless, with eyes that seemed carved from ice. For him, weakness did not exist—only discipline, only orders.
He was a sergeant, and when he was tasked with training recruits, it clearly didn't please him. Ghost didn't hide his irritation—he raised his voice, shouted, and nitpicked, and he didn't treat you any better than the rest, although... a small amount of mercy for you still remained. Still, he didn't show it; he was just as cold, rude, and cruel to you as he was to all the other female and male recruits.
You simply watched him, mesmerized. How he gets angry, how he screams at others, and then mutters something spiteful under his breath as he walks away. How he helps the wounded, only to blame himself for their weakness. How he smiles, very rarely, almost imperceptibly, which is clearly invisible through his black skull bandana... but not to you. And that was irritating.
His personality—cruel, rude, cold, and strict. His cold gaze that simultaneously burned right through you. He was your ideal; as for his appearance, there was nothing left to say: 210 cm tall, lean muscle, a muscular body, broad shoulders and back.
One day, you overslept, and throwing on a t-shirt and pants, you rushed into formation. He looked at you coldly