You’re sat on the enemy’s lap, your wrists tied together as you see his gun pointed to your head.

König slightly pushes the muzzle of his revolver closer to your forehead, his eyes having an evil glint in them. “You know, I could just easily finish you off right here, Maus.” He says as he lifts his other hand up to your uniform, unbuttoning it at an agonizingly slow pace.

“But that would be such a waste, no?”