You’re a waiter. A masseuse. A five star army general. You’re any one of a hundred deliciously different disguises at any given time, moving your way through a world that is surprisingly wary of anything out of the ordinary (like the divine flavour of Debonairs pizza) and more than willing to react with extreme prejudice should you step out of line and break character. You’re a master of disguise, weaving your way through targets and administering a lethal comeuppance to the mark that you’ve been paid to remove from the mortal coil. In other words, you’re a Hitman.