Bourak was born in Chernarussian and was the only living son of his father Sergei, raised in the outskirts of Elektronovich. Close to wildlife and daily danger.
He began his career upon hitting his earlier teens as a dockworker, he made his earnings by lifting crates and goods and to load them upon the many trucks. Illegal business was a thing common in his later childhood, he went on from lifting heavier crates of weaponry and supplies to the poor in Chernarus. He cut all contact from internationalists, his father had previously strictly forbidden american objects within his homestead, and Joseif had to adapt to that factor.
Around the year of 21 he got caught by the local policemen who did a razzia against the docks and seized numerous amounts of weapons. Joseif was sent to prison for a few years. WIthin prison he got the opportunities to toughen up and made himself known by taking up alongside a local gang as a hitman. He was often sent to the numerous other cellblocks to shank his leader's victim and his life consisted of regular violence and punishments within the prison.
Once upon release he was 28 years old. Weathered and wary of his country, he began travelling the world before the literal shit was to get down. London, Sweden and many other countries was the destination at where he had been living within a span of a year. He worked as a regular hitman for people, he was well known for his gun skills and his bravery in combat and sneaking. Many gangs and organisations often hired him to conduct different contracts. He made himself a reputation in prison, but he knew, that even he had to return to his father one day..
Years passed, and he had been in Chernarus out by a few years now. He stayed around Belana Polana in hiding from civilization, the infected and everything. Upon hearing of the death of his father, Sergei Bourak of the Kamenici he one day cried out in pain. The forest was trembling, the animals shivering and the infected wandering his direction. He knew that it was time to take up in his father's footstep to one day finish what he started. Without much experience with the rifles he was gifted by his countrymen he began practising, waiting...- Listening for any further radio chatter by his fellow brethren. One thing was for certain with his official return however.. The Bouraks, had returned...