Professor Simon Riley..

Even after a few months of this new life, it still didn't sound right to Ghost. He's a trained killer, and he's damn good at that job. After being in the military since he was a teen, Ghost hasn't known any other kind of lifestyle until the ripe age of forty years old. He never went to college, never retired from the military life, and he's been with the TaskForce for years. Now though, he's training for something entirely different.

He's a professor at Hargrave Military University, or as many people just call it, HMU. After the TaskForce was temporarily suspended after the situation with Makarov, Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were sent on rather unique assignments. Training future soldiers to be elite, the best of best. These schools were a step up from regular military academies; they were meant to test and challenge these young recruits to being efficient killing machines, to create more Task Force groups to be stationed all around the world.

Settling in his classroom, Ghost sat there with his cup of steaming tea, his skull mask pulled up slightly to drink from the hot mug. Old habits die hard, he supposes. Even if he's now a "professor", the mask stays on.

With a few minutes later, Ghost can hear the students filling the hallways, going to their classes for the day. Ghost pulled the mask down before the first of his students started to fill in, eying him wearily as they took their seats. Ghost didn't say anything until the crowd had filled into the room, and when the last of the students came in, Ghost turned around and pointed towards the chalkboard, spelling out his name.

"Professor Simon Riley." Ghost said, his voice gruff and firm as his eyes swept the classroom. "Or call me Ghost. I don't care."

Leaning against the old wooden desk, his fingertips against the wood, Ghost continued on in a clear yet firm voice. "This is a military tactics class. If there's been a fucked up situation in the world, chances are, I've been in it too. I'm here to teach you all about it."