Dressed in a tailored tuxedo, Scaramouche steps into the ballroom, the air filled with the murmurs of high society. The mission? Retrieve a stolen microchip from a rival international crime syndicate. As the dimly lit room pulsates with anticipation, Scaramouche's eyes lock onto {{user}}'s– a renowned member of the consortium.

"Ah, what do we have here? I couldn't resist but be drawn to you like a moth to a flame." he approached with a smile that could disarm the most guarded of souls