Chapter 9 — An Unusual Date

 Several stacks of photos and newspapers were scattered on Yuan’s bed, and he was just staring at them intently. The newspapers contained pieces of information about a man named Lucio Hernandez.

TARGET NAME: LUCIO HERNANDEZ, AGED 36

DESIGNATION: ASSASSIN, DRAGON COMPANY

STATUS: NOTORIOUS

Along with it were black and white photographs of the people in the Dragon Brotherhood. There was also a folder that contained the brotherhood’s whereabouts.

Heaving a sigh, he laid on his bed and thought about the shooting incident in Ormon City. Unmindfully, his right hand found its way towards his wounded arm. His left arm was bandaged and a basin of warm water sat on his study table. He got it from his encounter with Lucio Hernandez in Ormon City. The man had a scar on his left cheek. The thought about him made his blood boil some more.

‘Lucio Hernandez. He could have killed the Alphas if I hadn’t stopped him that night. But he had also seen Tiffany in the encounter. I’m pretty sure he knows her by now because of her hair color.’

Clenching his fists, he stood up and pinned Lucio’s photo on the small board across him. Drawing a small dagger, he aimed at it and let the dagger fly across the room, hitting the center of the face of the photo with a thud. He smirked and once again sat on his bed. This time, his thoughts traveled to a recent conversation with the Don.

“You’ll help my daughter in this mission, Yuan,” he remembered the Don saying.

“And what do I get?”

The Don remained quiet for a moment; thinking. The old man then gestured him to stand by him in front of the Wall of Fame in the Alpha Chambers. On the wall hung a multitude of renowned men of the Alpha Brotherhood. “Tell me, Yuan. Do you want to rule the brotherhood?”

Flustered, Yuan did not respond. “W-why are you asking me that?”

“I know what you want, Yuan. I can see it in your eyes and I could feel it in your veins. You wanted it so bad that you will do everything to get the position. Unfortunately, I cannot give you my spot in the Alpha because the Alphas will raise their suspicions,” the Don continued. “Only a del Cargador shall rule the Alphas.”

Yuan shifted in his seat and flashed the Don with an angry glare. “But I am also a del Cargador!” he responded furiously. “I have all the right to become your rightful heir!”

The Don grabbed him by his collar and said in a dangerous tone, “No one in the brotherhood knows that. And if you disclose that to the Alphas, what do you think will happen to you?” the Don taunted. He then aggressively pushed Yuan back on his chair and said in a calm voice, “But I can only give you my daughter’s hand.”

“You want me to marry your daughter? My sister?” Yuan replied, chuckling. “That’s sick!”

“It is the only way to save the bloodline, Yuan! If you marry her, that will give you the right to rule the brotherhood, given that you are married to a del Cargador by law. I’m sure the Alphas will favor you over Tiffany because as you can see, the female species was—”

“…useless for the Alphas,” Yuan interjected. The Don flashed him an evil grin. “Isn’t it a good idea, Yuan? You will only have to impregnate her in two years and yet still enjoy the leadership in the brotherhood. You’ll be powerful, just like me.”

Yuan considered the idea for a while. He weighed all the possibilities and what would happen to him and Tiffany if ever they were married “Your sister’s smart, beautiful, and gifted with a delicate piece of ass,” the Don continued. “You can fuck her all you want and you get to enjoy the brotherhood’s leadership as well. It’s the perfect plan for you, my son.”

“You said it yourself, Tiffany is smart! What makes you think she will just give up the chance to have the leadership that easily?”

The Don could only shake his head with amusement. “That girl will fail in her mission.”

“What makes you think so?” Yuan retorted.

“As what I’ve said, females are weak! It does not make them to rule. We, men, are the most powerful of all. We should not let a mere girl overpower us!”

Yuan could see how obsessed his real father was. Part of him wanted to follow his steps, but a small part of him was renouncing such dreaming. He leaned on the chair again, contemplating his decision. He liked his sister. Yes, she was beautiful and owned such a slender body. But he knew she wouldn’t love him. And he wasn’t sure if he could also love her back.

But the leadership in the brotherhood meant power and endless wealth. So even though his father did not publicly acknowledge him, being his heir will be more than enough payment for all the things that he went through just to please the man who treated him as a real son, the mayor of Ormon.

“What do you say, son?” the Don asked again, interrupting his thoughts.

Yuan hesitated for a while before shooting another question. “But what about señorita Tiffany? Does she have a say on this?” The Don refused to answer. Instead, he looked him in the eye, and sternly asked, “Yuan, take it or leave it?”

Yuan could not speak. If he said no, he was sure the Don will shoot him with his gun. And when he said yes, there was no turning back anymore.

“Everything that I was doing is for you, Yuan. I chose not to disclose your identity because the Alphas will kill us both.”

“I understand that already. You have told me that a hundred times!” Yuan retorted.

“Then, you must also understand that certain things require sacrifices, right? I have waited for this long; to see you with your head held up high, and reigning above the Alphas. So, I will ask you again, young man, take it, or leave it?”

Teacher Greg and Steffy stopped by in a simple barbecue stand near the barangay hall. The place was facing the sea, thus the afternoon breeze cooled down the young lady’s furious head.

“Good afternoon, Sir Greg, and to the beautiful young lady beside you!” the people greeted them politely as they passed by them. They returned their greetings with a courteous nod from Teacher Greg and a scowling face from Steffy. Her stern face truly amused the teacher. He loved how cute she looked when she’s irritated.

“Here, sir, do you want Betamax? We also have your favorite chicken feet,” said the woman with a dirty apron as they approached her stand. She was Aleng Mayet, Sir Greg’s favorite barbecue vendor. His suki, as he called her.

“What the fuck is Betamax?” Steffy asked herself, not asking anyone in particular. The lady heard her otherwise and replied, “This is Betamax, young lady.”

Steffy cringed her face as the woman shoved something that looked like small box-type video cassette tapes—in a stick.

“Although it’s made with blood, Betamax doesn’t have a foul smell or taste. It has a mellow to a bitter flavor that calls for spicy vinegar on the side,” it was Teacher Greg who replied. He reached for a platter and said, “Give me six of these, Aleng Mayet.”

“W-wait, they make this with blood?” Steffy said with horror on her face.

“Yes, the blood of pig or chicken that is coagulated and shaped into squares, dear,” Aleng Mayet replied.

“Yuck. Sir Greg, do you see me as a vampire?” Scoffing, Steffy attempted to get away, but the teacher was quicker. “I’m out of here,” she said indignantly, dragging herself away from the barbecue stand.

“You’re not going anywhere. Save your comments when you’re done eating this, alright?” said the teacher as he dragged her hand again. Steffy was getting more and more irritated now.

“Will you stop dragging me around, Sir?” “And will you stop complaining and just be thankful that you are having a date with me?” the teacher replied, teasing her even more.

“Fuck you! I’m not having a date with you!” Steffy replied angrily. “I’m going home.”

“If you won’t mind your language, Miss Rivera, you’ll regret it.”

Rolling her eyes, Steffy took a step and glared at her teacher, who was way taller than her. “Why? Am I in trouble again, Sir?”

“I’ll kiss you.”

Steffy’s eyebrows raised and her lips slightly parted. “How dare you?”

“I mean it, Steffy. If that’s the only way for you to keep quiet, then I will.” Rolling her eyes, Steffy went silent for a moment. Her heart was now running like a horse inside her chest. She couldn’t believe the effect she’s getting from her teacher. ‘This can’t happen! I have a mission and I have to focus on that!’ Glaring at him, she walked back to the barbeque stand and once again examined the various unfamiliar foods in front of her.

“This is isaw. This one here is a fish ball and beside it, we call kwek-kwek,” interjected Aleng Mayet again.

“You should try these, young lady. Everybody loves street food.”

“I have tasted nothing like that,” she coldly replied. Teacher Greg was again standing behind her and she could feel his hand rubbing her back.

“To ease your confusions, Miss Rivera. Allow me to describe each one of these street foods to you,” the teacher said as his hand lingered on the small of her back.

“Yeah, whatever,” she bluntly replied, rolling her eyes again. Steffy crossed her arms and listened as the teacher made a brief discussion about the food. Not that she had any choice. “Isaw is one of the most popular Filipino street foods in the Philippines, especially in the countryside, although a lot of the slum districts in the city where you came from also patronize this food. It is pork or chicken intestines that are typically barbecued or deep-fried. Don’t worry because they cleaned thoroughly the intestines before they’re grilled. To give you a brief history of this one, the popularity of isaw dates back to the 1970s.”

“Oh please, are you giving me a history lecture right now?” she grumbled, but Teacher Greg didn’t budge.

“According to an article I’ve read,” he continued, “when livestock supply was abundant in the 1950s, street food vendors opted to sell more expensive cuts of meat, but when the economic crisis hit the country in the 1970s, the scrap parts of pork and chicken suddenly became valuable and that’s when they sold isaw.” He then placed two sticks of isaw on the platter, then gestured to Aleng Mayet to give him an additional. “Please add another six of this, Aleng Mayet.” Sir Greg reached for the seven pieces of fish ball afterward. “We call this one here a fish ball. Fish balls are groundfish, usually made from pollock or cuttlefish and lots of flour, that are flattened and skewered before deep-frying. And we called the last one that I want you to try kwek-kwek.”

“Is that food coloring?” Steffy asked, still skeptical about the food in front of her.

“These are quail eggs and the brightly colored orange that covers it is of batter. Most of its goodness relies on its sauce and street food vendors have their recipe,” explained the teacher.

“But some vendors also use chicken eggs,” added Aleng Mayet.

“Thank you, suki. We’ll just wait for the orders,” said Teacher Greg as Aleng Mayet placed their orders on a platter. Teacher Greg led her to a small round table just several steps away from the stand.

“I don’t think my stomach will accept those foods, sir. They’re so disgusting.”

“Come on, Miss Rivera, you can do better than that,” taunted the teacher, chuckling. They sat there in silence as they waited for Aleng Mayet to serve their orders. Steffy looked around her and observed how the people interacted with each other. She saw an old man and a child, asking for alms. Both of them were dirty and wearing shabby clothes. She could also see the evidence of scarcity in their frail bodies. On her right was a young lady, perhaps two years younger than her. The bump in her stomach was clear. Judging from the loose tee that she’s wearing. she knew the girl was pregnant.

“Teenage pregnancy is rampant in our country,” explained Sir Greg. He seemed to have read her thoughts. “Poverty also constantly knocks at the people’s doors.”

“They did that to themselves,” replied Steffy with nonchalance in her tone.

“Do you think so?” the teacher replied, challenging her.

Steffy stared at him then replied, “Of course!”

“What if I’ll say that rich people also contribute to our country’s poverty?”

Raising her eyebrow, Steffy shot her teacher a sharp stare. “The rich become rich because they’ve worked hard for it,” she snapped back.

“Point taken, but most rich people take advantage of the lowly people in the society,” replied Teacher Greg. “If only they know how to share what they have with the needy or perhaps educate them about the stock market and lead them towards success, no one will be left behind.”

“They wouldn’t understand it, anyway. And if they want to be rich, they need to work harder—”

“Poor people always work hard, Steffy,” replied Teacher Greg, cutting her off. “They often work their ass out to make both ends meet. But they are still stuck in the muddy reality of poverty. Too bad, you wouldn’t see that because you are born with a golden spoon in your mouth.”

Clenching her fists, Steffy heaved a sigh and tried her best to control her emotions. “Why are you telling me these things,” she asked calmly. The teacher stared at her. Teacher Greg pressed his lips together and his eyes flickered with a different light. She could sense the sadness and contained anger in his face. Just then, Aleng Mayet approached them, bringing the foods they ordered. Almost instantly, the heated atmosphere dissolved into thin air. Teacher Greg’s seriousness vanished.

“Hmmm, finally! Come on, Miss Rivera, dig in. I’m excited to hear your thoughts about the food.”

Steffy blew a sigh. ‘What a bipolar deep shit,’ she said in her mind as she glared at her teacher.

“Try this one,” Teacher Greg said as he pushed a tray of isaw towards her.

“This better be delicious,” she replied, rolling her eyes.