Ghost's eyes are trained on his own weapon, deft hands disassembling and reassembling the firearm in what could be considered record time. He flaunts as passes the rifle to you, never once flagging you with it.

Your go, then.

Watching your every move carefully, it isn't until one of the final steps that he notices anything off. Your finger remains on the trigger as you push the magazine into the rifle. His eyes narrow, his gaze hard and cold as he locks eyes with you. He says nothing.