Having recently replayed "Hitman 2: Silent Assassin" a game often condemned for it's violent content I couldn't help but think of it as far more ethically ambivalent than a first glance would suggest. Sure the protagonist Agent 47 is a professional Hitman. His job is killing people. Killing people is a bad thing. We can all agree on that. And while the intro movie suggests a little remorse in his life, being officially retired and all, none of that actually changes the course of this game. There is no bad conscience present in the Character 47. But there can rise some in me, the player. Which is an interesting effect.

While a lot of Games, like my recent preoccupation, the excellent “Chronicles of Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay”, feature predator-like protagonists, Hitman differs in a crucial point. In his case professionalism not only means that you are silent and deadly, it also encourages that you try to kill as little as possible. The less dead, the better the player. The game rewards you for sparing life, not for destroying it. Sure it is cynical, to say that when it comes to professional hitmen, and these “ethics” are nowhere near a coherent argumentation, but still something is at work there, that radically changed my perception of what would have otherwise been mere cannon-fodder on my way to the assigned target. I ended up replaying the end of a particular chapter over and over again only to get past two policemen without harming them. How come?

Earlier i strangled a high level programmer of a dubious software start—up in a anonymous skyscraper in rainy Kuala Lumpur. Mission accomplished. I jumped through one of the big panoramic windows of the building, landing on a architecturally very daring bridge leading to another skyscraper across the street. There was I, at least 15 stories above ground, in the middle of the night in this exotic environment and ahead of me two neglectable obstacles in the form of policemen patrolling the bridge. No problem, i readied my arms and was about to finish the level in a matter of seconds.

And then suddenly as I stood there in my slick black hitman suit, looking silent and dangerous as ever, the tropical rain wiping in my face, a set of silenced ballers in my hands, it struck me: what do the poor fellows ahead of me have to do with all of that. They are just doing their job. So am I. A utilitarian moment of solidarity emerged and I saved the game. Now i had a new competition going on. Getting past these policemen without harming them. I did what is expected in a game like that. I sat crouched in the rain and studied their patrol routes for what felt like forever. Then I thought i might have worked it out and I gave it a try. I sneaked toward a small flock of boxes, wisely put there by the almighty game-designing-gods, and peaked around the corner. There he stood turning his back at me as i expected.

Hitman is a slow game. Even when 47 runs he is not one of the fastest around. And it is much better to make him sneak or walk most of the time anyway. Stealth is the name of the game. Established by Metal Gear Solid some years ago and no end in sight. I admit tingly love this particular genre. Since i am not the most gifted player when it comes to reflexes i highly value the fact that i am given time to think and generally things move at a slower pace, than in your typical action packed FPS. And when everything is slower, the few moments when my cover breaks and I have to react quick to avoid serious injury are even more exciting. But tonight was about another excitement. Tonight was about protecting the innocent and for that being as stealthy as i could possibly be.

So there was I. Behind a box. Hiding so that the men i am hiding from are not forced to become my enemies and get killed in that process. The weather was still heavy, no stars in the pitch-black sky. Only the shimmering lights in the windows of the skyscraper blinked in a distance. I wanted to get there. To the towers of my own personal Xanadu. He was still turning his back toward me. But just when I felt safe enough to crouch out behind the box to get to the next spot of my prefigured route one of the policeman unsuspectingly turned and spotted me.

I hit reload.

I didn't even get past guy #1. This was a tough one. But several failed attempts later I found the perfect route and had the perfect timing for it and worked my way closer and closer to that tower. They didn't see me or hear me at all. It was as if I was never there. I stood up and started running till I reached the access point to my next mission. A load screen appeared. I smiled. I was happy. Really happy.

This whole effort took me a totally unreasonable amount of time. And that's the point. Up there in the tropical rain, was not an important moment in the ongoing of the game. I could have just killed them with a merciless headshot. But I didn't want to. I wanted them to live. I wanted them to return to their loved ones after duty as if nothing happened that night. I felt compassion and that is why I didn't want them to pay for the way I lead my life. I succeeded and believe me it was as satisfying a game experience as any of the dreadful crimes I committed while playing Hitman.

Does this make the game educational? No. Will it help start a new discussion on it's violent content? Probably not. Well what's all the fuzz about then? It is quit simple the fact, that the game allowed me to feel what i felt, even maybe emphasized it a little and therefore is a very subjective proof of the spectrum of emotions that the medium can arouse and of the diversity of ethical discussions that could be led. It is not just all about breaking necks, Riddick, you know. There is so much more out there.

Hias Wrba