Chapter 5: Irish Whip

Before retiring for the night, Joseph sat down at his computer and composed an email to his comrades, Zechariah and Riff. The email held a crucial piece of information, a clue to their next gathering as the pillars of their cause.

The email read:

"Subject: Upcoming 'Faith' Branch Plan

Dear Zechariah and Riff,

I trust this message finds you well. As we continue to navigate the path of 'Faith', I've devised a branch plan that could prove to be a decisive move in our efforts against the Irish Whip. Tomorrow, let's convene at the location we've designated as 'the stigmatised property'. The weekend affords us the time we need to strategise and execute effectively. I suggest an early morning meeting to capitalise on the quietude of the day.

This venture could mark a turning point in our struggle, and I believe our combined dedication and intellect will pave the way for success.

Looking forward to our meeting.

Yours in unity, Joseph"

With a sense of purpose, Joseph hit the 'send' button, the echo of his intention rippling through the digital realm, carrying the promise of their continued fight for justice and freedom.

As Joseph settled in for the night, he took a moment to appreciate the strides that technology had made over the years. The simplicity of copying and pasting a message exemplified how far the world had come, transforming once complex tasks into effortless actions. With a sense of gratitude for the conveniences of modern life, he marvelled at the power of innovation.

Lying down on his comfortable mattress, Joseph rested his head on a soft cotton pillow. As his eyelids grew heavy, he felt the embrace of drowsiness pulling him into the realm of dreams. The events of the day, the plans for the future, and the weight of his responsibilities blended together in the theatre of his mind. With each passing thought, his consciousness drifted further into the realm of slumber, where reality blurred and imagination danced freely.

The persistent ringing of the clock alarm on Joseph's bedside table roused him from his slumber. Groggily checking the time, he realised it was already 7:00, prompting him to kickstart his day into action. Rolling out of bed, he wasted no time in preparing himself for the day ahead. With a sense of purpose, he devoured a nourishing breakfast consisting of hearty oatmeal accompanied by a refreshing glass of orange juice.

As the morning sunlight streamed through the windows, Joseph's determination to meet with his companions fueled his movements. He donned his chosen attire, gathered his essentials, and bid farewell to his home, stepping out with a resolve to engage in the day's agenda. Outside, his trusty C70 Honda Cub, affectionately known as Cub Chai, awaited him. The familiar rumble of the engine ignited a sense of adventure as Joseph embarked on his journey to meet his fellow comrades.

Joseph's mind was abuzz with anticipation as he navigated the streets on his reliable Cub Chai. The clock on the dashboard seemed to be ticking faster than usual, and he couldn't help but think about the meeting that lay ahead. "I hope they're already there," he mused, aware that time was a precious commodity that he didn't want to squander. With each passing moment, he kept a watchful eye on the road, manoeuvring through the sparse traffic with a sense of caution.

The absence of bustling traffic lights in the vicinity lent an almost serene quality to the area, though Joseph's vigilance remained unwavering. As he covered the distance, his thoughts occasionally drifted to the vulnerability of the road, a reminder that safety was paramount in this venture.

Soon enough, the landmark of the stigmatised property loomed into view. A sense of achievement swelled within Joseph as he parked his Cub Chai at the location. The journey, while not particularly lengthy, had been significant in its purpose. Riff and Zechariah were already present, waiting as a testament to their dedication. A smile broke across Joseph's face as he approached his companions, a silent acknowledgement of their unity and shared commitment.

"Jo, let's talk about it inside," Zechariah suggested, a gesture that conveyed a sense of privacy and solemnity. Joseph nodded in agreement, ready to delve into the plans they had laid out for the day. The sun hung in the sky, casting its golden hues upon the trio as they ventured into the stigmatised property, ready to unfold the strategies that could shape the course of their shared destiny.

"Damn, you're late!" Zechariah's voice carried a teasing edge as Joseph joined them.

Chuckling, Joseph retorted, "There's no punch card around here. And by the looks of it, I highly doubt either of you arrived here much earlier than a rooster on morning duty."

"What?"

"So, about your plan, what is it? Don't tell me you're going to organise a brawling tournament," Riff inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Joseph grinned, "Well, you're not entirely off the mark."

"What I have in mind is this: I'm going to infiltrate the Irish Whip. Once I'm in, I'll find a way to confront Judas and use that leverage to expose his deeds."

"Wow, you are like a judge."

"Maybe, I'm a judge?" Said Joseph while spreading his arms.

Zechariah chimed in, "But have you really thought this through? Do you really think it's feasible? Just hearing about it now raises some red flags for me."

"Someone must have known you. What are you going to do about that? In my case, a lot of bullies would have recognised me first." Riff, remarked.

Riff leaned back, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. "Well, it looks like we're on the same page. Joseph's idea of infiltrating the Irish Whip through joining them as trusted henchmen does seem like the most effective way to gather information and get closer to the truth."

Zechariah nodded in agreement. "And it fits perfectly with our overall strategy. We've got to be willing to take risks if we want to make a real impact."

Joseph felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I appreciate your support, both of you. This is a big step, and I'm fully aware of the risks involved. But it's time we take matters into our own hands and fight for justice."

Riff chuckled, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Well, isn't this turning into quite the adventure? But remember, Joseph, we're in this together. We'll watch each other's backs and make sure we come out of this stronger."

Zechariah clapped Joseph on the shoulder. "And we're going to do whatever it takes to make sure your cover is solid. If anyone can pull off this transformation, it's you."

Joseph nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Thanks, guys. Let's make this happen. For Yynn, for Sayon, and for the truth."

As the trio shared a determined look, Joseph couldn't help but feel that their journey was just beginning. The challenges ahead were daunting, but with their unbreakable bond and unwavering determination, they were ready to face whatever came their way.

The following day arrived, and Joseph and Zechariah found themselves standing at the precipice of a dangerous decision. Dressed in attire that would help them blend in with the Irish Whip family, they steeled themselves for what lay ahead. Their faces were a mix of determination and unease, a reflection of the high-stakes gamble they were about to take.

Meanwhile, in Riff's dimly lit basement, the atmosphere was heavy with tension. The room was a makeshift headquarters, filled with carefully organised files, maps, and evidence boards. This was where Riff conducted his relentless investigations, piecing together fragments of information in his pursuit of truth.

"I'm worried about them, this is tough work, to be honest," Riff confessed, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the table as he continued, "If things went south, one of them would not make it alive." The weight of his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the perilous path Joseph and Zechariah were treading.

Riff's concern was genuine, born from a deep bond of friendship and a shared sense of purpose. He knew that their plan was a dangerous one, a tightrope walk between deception and exposure. The Irish Whip was not an organisation to be taken lightly, and infiltrating their ranks was a risk that could have dire consequences.

As he paced the room, Riff's mind raced with thoughts of what could go wrong. His meticulous nature had led him to uncover unsettling truths about the Irish Whip's operations, and he understood the dangerous game Joseph and Zechariah were about to play.

With a sigh, Riff glanced at the evidence boards that lined the walls, a visual representation of the web of intrigue he had unravelled. He knew that their journey was fraught with uncertainty, but he also believed in their determination and resilience.

As the minutes ticked away, Riff's thoughts turned to his friends, imagining them standing on the threshold of a new and perilous chapter. He could only hope that their courage and wits would see them through, that their alliance would remain unbroken, and that the seeds they were sowing would ultimately bear fruit.

Little did they know, the choices they were making would send ripples through the intricate tapestry of Sayon Island, setting off a series of events that would challenge their very identities and reshape the course of their lives. The countdown had begun, and the fate of Joseph, Zechariah, and Riff was now inexorably intertwined with the shadowy world of the Irish Whip.

The awaited day had finally arrived, casting an air of apprehension over Joseph and Zechariah as they prepared to embark on a pivotal mission. Clad in their new attire, their steps held a mixture of determination and anxiety as they made their way towards the heart of the Irish Whip's territory.

"I can't believe we are wearing a suit, this isn't a prom!" Joseph sighed, his discomfort evident in his voice. The idea of donning formal wear to infiltrate an underworld organisation seemed absurd to him, a stark contrast to the casual clothes he was accustomed to.

Zechariah shared the sentiment, his face etched with a combination of annoyance and readiness. "This is nothing compared to meeting with these jackasses," he retorted, the cynicism in his tone reflecting the tense situation they were walking into.

As they navigated the streets, Joseph couldn't help but comment, "Been a while since I was in Leng Kong Bashi, luckily my bike could still take both of us here without a problem." His voice carried a hint of nostalgia, his thoughts momentarily drifting to simpler times.

"Yep, that's why I like the bike more than you, buddy," Zechariah replied with a playful jab, his attempt at levity serving as a brief respite from the gravity of the situation.

A wry smile crossed Joseph's face. "I got the whole state hating me since I came out of my mother's belly." His words were tinged with a mix of humour and resignation, a reminder of the reputation he had garnered over the years.

Their banter, though light-hearted, couldn't fully mask the tension that hung in the air. Their journey was more than just a physical one – it was a leap into the unknown, a deliberate immersion into the dangerous world of the Irish Whip. Each step they took was a calculated risk, a thread woven into a web of deceit that held the promise of unravelling an intricate scheme.

As they approached the rendezvous point, the weight of their mission settled upon them, a constant reminder of the stakes involved. With a shared glance, they reaffirmed their determination, silently acknowledging that this was a path they had chosen willingly, regardless of the trials that awaited them.

Little did they know, the choices they were making would propel them into a realm of intrigue, alliances, and betrayals. The fabric of their lives was about to be woven into a tapestry of danger, suspense, and unexpected alliances, forever altering the course of their journey.

With each step they took, Joseph and Zechariah trod cautiously, mindful of the populated buildings, Joseph's bike was parked a distance away from their destination, so they opted for a less controversial approach. Navigating through the town, they strolled past various stores and establishments, a façade that masked their true intent.

Finally, they stood before their destination – a towering 6-storey building that stood in stark contrast to its surroundings. Its flawless design and glossy reddish paint all over The Wall. Joseph's awe was palpable as he took in the sight, his gaze fixed on the grandeur of the structure before him.

Their moment of admiration was interrupted by the arrival of a guard – a hulking figure with an imposing height that towered over them at 197 centimetres. The guard's presence was commanding, and his voice held a hint of curiosity as he addressed them.

"Can I help you two, you both seem lost?" His words were delivered with an air of intrigue, his tone smooth and mesmerising. At that moment, it was evident that they were under scrutiny, their reasons for being there subject to scrutiny.

Joseph exchanged a glance with Zechariah, the unspoken understanding between them echoing their shared determination.

"Yeah, indeed, sir, your help is much appreciated. Well, you see, I'm Joseph and this is Zechariah. We would like to see Mr. Iscariot, please."

The guard's stern expression didn't waver. "I'm not going to let you two go and meet him just like that. There must be a reason for you to do so."

Zechariah stepped forward confidently. "I think we've got a solid reason for you, Mister."

The guard's eyebrows raised slightly, intrigued by Zechariah's response. "Wait, who are you again? Zechariah, isn't it? Zechariah Soulook?" His tone held a note of recognition.

Zechariah grinned. "Yes, I am!"

The guard's gaze shifted between Zechariah and Joseph, a mix of disbelief and curiosity evident in his eyes. "Are you really with this guy?" he asked, pointing a massive furry brown hand toward Joseph.

Caught off guard by the question, Joseph's eyebrows knitted together in a puzzled expression. He exchanged a quick glance with Zechariah before addressing the guard, his voice tinged with a touch of amusement. "Yes, I'm really with him. We're here together for a purpose."

The guard's scrutinising gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he seemed to make a decision. "Follow me," he instructed, turning to lead them further into the building.

As they followed the guard, Joseph's mind raced with a mixture of intrigue and uncertainty. The tension in the air was palpable, and he couldn't shake the feeling that their every move was being closely watched. They were stepping into a world of unknowns, where danger and opportunity seemed to walk hand in hand.

"Well, come and follow me, you two," said the guard as he led Joseph and Zechariah on a mini-tour inside the building. "You see, this place has 6 floors, and Mr. Iscariot's office is on the highest floor, the 6th floor," the guard explained. Joseph and Zechariah nodded in acknowledgement.

"You seem to know your way around here," the guard remarked, glancing at one of them.

"Hm... I think you're mistaken. This is actually our first time here," Zechariah replied.

"Alright, if you say so," the guard said with a hint of scepticism.

"Wow, this place is amazing! Each floor seems to have something unique to offer. Bars, arcades, and even a barricade," Joseph commented, clearly impressed.

"You haven't even seen the other facilities we have," the guard chimed in, seemingly eager to showcase more of the building.

"Here we are."

"Mr. Tortilla, who are these people?" A brunette-haired girl with her hair in a bun, dressed in what seemed to be a personal assistant suit, inquired.

"Nothing major, just new recruits."

"I understand. . . Excellent job, Mr. Tortilla."

"You can always rely on me."

"Well, boys, you've heard it. Now, wait here. The lady will inform Mr. Iscariot about your presence and intentions."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Tortilla," Joseph and Zechariah expressed their gratitude.

They waited for Judas Iscariot's willingness to meet them. Paintings all over the walls, magazines, and espresso coffee as something to be availed of. Then, the bun lady reaches and notifies the boys that Judas Iscariot is ready to confront them. Joseph and Zechariah stand and are ready to enter the room. But, the bun lady stops Joseph and says, "Mr Iscariot wanted to meet you both one by one, be patient and keep reading the book. Stay tuned, for another volume."

"If you say so. . ." Joseph mumbled.

As stated, Joseph waits for his turn. After about 10 minutes, Zechariah emerges from Judas Iscariot's office.

"How did it go?" Joseph inquired.

Zechariah walks with an inscrutable expression on his face and replies, "I got accepted, Jo."

"That's great news."

"I suppose it's my turn now, Miss?"

"Yes, you may enter now."

"Thank you."

Joseph rises from his seat and confidently 'Flair Strides' to the entrance of Judas Iscariot's office. With a firm grip, he turns the doorknob and steps inside. "Here goes nothing," Joseph whispers to himself. Judas Iscariot, sitting behind his desk, looks up and fixes his gaze on Joseph.

"You must be Mr. Pharawan, if I'm not mistaken. Your friend introduced you earlier," Judas says in a raspy voice.

"Yes, that's correct, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, take a seat."

"Thank you."

"So, you're interested in a job, something out of the ordinary, I presume?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"May I know why? Why have you chosen this path? You're still a student, you know. Is this your last resort? Don't you have any dreams?" Judas inquired, his eyes locked onto Joseph's.

"I'm in my final year of high school, and my plan after graduation is to start earning money. For now, I don't have any specific dreams, and if I do have one in the future, I'll be sure to let you know," Joseph replied honestly.

"When someone seeks a job, the employer needs to choose the best candidate for the position. I must admit, though, that your uncertainty about your future and goals doesn't make you the ideal candidate," Judas commented.

Joseph nodded, acknowledging his words.

"Given that, I cannot offer you a position at this time. Come back when you're more certain. I'm sorry, and I hope you have a good day," Judas concluded, his decision clear.

The meeting ended, and Joseph was politely asked to leave by Judas Iscariot. As he exited the building and descended the stairs, he mulled over the rejection. With Zechariah nowhere in sight, he walked through the town alone, observing the struggles of the workers in the various stores.

"Perhaps my ambitions were too grand. What was I even thinking? Is this some sort of karma?" Joseph pondered, his mind heavy. He found his way to a cyber cafe, and as he checked his email, he noticed a message from Meme.

"Let's go fishing tomorrow. Please respond within 24 hours."

Joseph sat there, considering his options, his thoughts swirling like the uncertain currents of the sea.

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