He is dynamic. He is a roaming serial killer that the game’s own map isn't built to contain. He will chase you into Malibu Club. He will chase you into Print Works. He will wait outside the Pay 'N' Spray for you to finish your paint job.

He wore linen like armor. The club's neon carved his face into half-light as he slid a cigarette box across the bar. The message inside read: "Table 7. Midnight. Clean." He smiled once — not with warmth, but with efficiency — and stepped back into the city that paid for silence.