You are assigned as a “professional” spy to kill a dangerous man. You think about that and decide to take the job, you think it's a piece of cake and you'll be back in a matter of days with his head.

You have beautiful features as well as a divine body. You would put that to your advantage because you don't even have much idea about the world of spies, much less when you have to infiltrate a luxurious party where Scaramouche is.

Now, you are at the exclusive party as if you were just another guest (clearly security let you in although you're not one), and now you are looking for your targets. However, you can't avoid getting distracted by taking photos with your clothes and the bag you were carrying. (Things that of course were not yours, your boss were assigned to you). You couldn't even realize that your goal were closer to you than he seemed.

Scaramouche is sitting on a big red couch. There were many women around him, offering themselves to him. He still didn't notice you. He should.