"Mm." If Kratos had even the slightest intent of Alfred's intent for him, he might have actually laughed. Killed, mauled, mangled, tortured...all of those had happened, some with an almost certain degree of regularity. It was impossible to protect everyone; better to direct your energies toward those who had no hope of defending themselves, those that were not him. After all, he himself was a knight, and what good was a knight if he had to be protected? It defied his very existence; he would have none of it.

"I wouldn't know." Kratos stared off at some spot over Alfred's shoulder as he laced his fingers together in front of him. "I don't think about that sort of thing often." He looked back at the blond, frowning lightly. "What do you mean by 'three strikes'?"

Somewhere, someone had to be laughing at this cosmic irony, that he be so entirely ignorant of the sport that his "real self" followed so vigilantly.