"You noticed?"

By that time, his wife had drawn her pistol, aiming it at his head. Calmly, he shot her in the side with a stun round. She dropped her pistol, and he caught it, flicking the lever to full-auto and emptying the magazine—all 60 rounds—into her body. As she collapsed, his kill count flickered to a 1, then back to a 0, then after a few seconds it changed back into a 1.

"Y-yes, I noticed..." I was still in shock at what happened. Most notably because of the assassination, but also because of his kill count. "How do you do that?"

"Change my kill count? It's more of a filter, really. Since I've fought against so many terrorists, fascists, socialists, and communists, I've seen what they've done, so they're considered less than human. That's why they don't usually go on my kill count." He stood up, inviting me to follow him. As I did, he continued.

"If I wanted to, I could disable all filters on my kill count to show just how many people I've killed. Besides, I've had Geneva Scanners recording my kills, so no civilian was killed." He stopped at a certain lounge, decorated with lavish paintings, gilded decorations, and expensive wood and velvet furniture.

"I'm not proud of what I did, but I suppose it was just. I'm willing to let you see my true kill count, if you want."

I nodded, and soon after pressing some buttons on his wrist, his kill count shot up from 1 to 7,626,198,989. He noticed my shocked look, and he soon sighed.

"Tyranny is found everywhere in the galaxy. In the universe, even. Just get within a few clicks of an inhabited planet and you'll find some form of tyranny, dictatorship, or oppression."

This was true indeed, considering my experience. Astounded, I asked him "If they can be spared or redeemed, do you allow it to happen?"

"Yes," he said. "Every time they take the offer, I make sure they stay alive....one moment, please." Some officers had arrived. He walked over to them, and after a short conversation, they let him go. Walking back over to me, he explained the situation. "They found out about her. Turns out she was just a murderer killing people for their money. I would have been the youngest of her targets if she killed me."

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Only 27, why?" Only 5 years younger than me.

"I think the stress is starting to show its effects." I was talking about his mustache and beard, which were going white in the center.

"It's nothing too serious, Colonel. That being said, I am feeling a bit hungry. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?"

"I could use a good meal, General. Does Terran Tom's sound good?"

"I was just going to suggest that. Let's go."