This is The Book of Joseph.
Only a couple thousand were made and given away to those who bought the Mondo edition of Far Cry 5.
I thought this would be a much easier way for his word to be spread so everyone can read it. It very much goes in depth...
This is my task: to spread my message and unite the members of my new family before the world collapses.
But before I gathered my children. I needed to reunite with my brothers. I decided to leave my miserable job to concentrate fully on finding John. At this point, I hadn't made any headway despite all my efforts. John's face, which I would have recognized anywhere, didn't appear in any high school year book in Georgia. It had also become clear that he must have change his name.
But I had changed as well.
The weight of the revelation was not a burden - quite the contrary. A fog had lifted. My whole life - all my past suffering - now made sense. I was being prepared for my destiny, the way ancient warriors were trained in combat from birth.
I could see this fact more clearly, once I had shrugged off the weight of my rage and resentment.
Why let this weigh you down when everyone who has ever inflicted pain upon you will soon be reduced to nothingness? I was a new man. I took stock of the situation, suddently aware that I had missed something in Rome; the radical change my childhood town had undergone was a sign in and of itself.
So I returned to Rome and began making the rounds at real estate agencies, which had sprouted up around the city the way weeds once had. I met friendly people who boasted of the neighbourhood's safety and tranquillity and of the executives and reasonably Avant-Garde designers that lived in the area. Property prices had shot up three thousand percent since my childhood. I doubted that the former residents had seen a red cent of those steeps gain in value. But I felt no angers now that I knew that the ashes of executioner and victims alike would soon be mingled.
In the same smooth tones, I praised the boldness of the property development plans and asked who had initiated such a profitable venture. A major law firm was mentioned several times, the one responsible for the project.
The firm was housed in one of those arrogant skyscrapers, in a business centre like so many others around the world. There lay the centre of power: at the foot of those towers, business-people walked by at a clipped pace, phones glued to their ears, talking numbers - talking to themselves.
Here more than anywhere else, time was money. They were unaware that they had little time remaining, that all the money in the world couldn't change this certitude.
All of them would die soon: only a handful would survive.
There was only one John working at the well-heeled firm, an associate with the last name Duncan. The receptionist looked at me suspiciously from behind her marble desk as I entered
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