Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 200

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Infinite Talent Reset Life Episode 200

Engel Barber, who had been confused, falls into thought.

‘No, this is an opportunity.’

Perhaps an opportunity to achieve his dream, his dream of creating a world where everyone could buy cold medicine for just one dollar.

Assets with an estimated value of hundreds of billions of dollars.

It was by no means an impossible task.

Engel Barber’s eyes become serious.

‘The subject of today’s interview, no, the subject of this business is Johann Jefferson.’

From that moment on, Engel Barber only looked into Johann’s eyes.

“Is there one pathogen?”

“At least three. These must be researched as the top priority.”

“Where is the source?”

“China.”

‘This isn’t something I should hide.’

Johann explains the events in Hong Kong without hiding anything, or rather, with slight exaggeration mixed in.

“…So there was a reason for wanting to create a pharmaceutical company.”

Larry and Ada, who had heard this content beforehand, also nod with serious faces. This is because there are already precedents like SARS and MERS.

“It doesn’t matter what other drugs you develop. This way, Mr. Barber will also be motivated.”

“…What is the ratio of investment funds?”

“If you look at the documents carefully, you’ll see that the equity relationships are somewhat complex.”

The people who have been managing the inheritance and the CIA.

Therefore, he executes the entire net profit that will fall to him as investment funds for new drug development. Larry and Ada also decided to invest all the profits that would fall to them.

“Until the new drug is completely developed.”

‘Great power, great responsibility.’

Since it was a danger he learned about through the Library’s ability, he intended to pour all of his newly acquired assets, James Han’s inheritance, into this.

“…It’s cutting it close.”

While hundreds of millions of dollars in net profit are expected to be generated per year, the problem is that developing a single new drug basically costs hundreds of millions of dollars.

But this is a minor problem. The real problem remains.

“From what you’re saying, it seems you want to start development immediately… What about the realistic problems of equipment, researchers, staff, research institutes, office buildings, etc.?”

This is not only a matter of money but also time. Setting all this up would easily take one or two years.

“What if we acquire a pharmaceutical company? We can spend up to an additional ten billion dollars.”

“…We could acquire a small to medium-sized pharmaceutical company.”

He happens to know several pharmaceutical companies that are struggling with financial difficulties.

‘The biggest problem has been solved with money.’

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Engel Barber, who had been organizing his thoughts while tapping the table with his index finger, soon nods his head.

“If you entrust me with all personnel authority, I’ll proceed with including the physical assets here like the Texas Oil Field as assets of the pharmaceutical company.”

While there’s an intention to expand the company’s scale, having such physical assets also makes loan issues easier.

“Do as you please. However, you’ll have to undergo regular audits.”

It would be a private company anyway. There was no chance that information about equity would leak to the outside.

This wasn’t a problem. The problem was time.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“You need to give me at least six months for acquisition and development preparation setup.”

‘As expected…’

For an ordinary person, acquiring a pharmaceutical company alone would require more than a year, but Engel Barber mentions only six months while accomplishing much more.

It was the confidence befitting the talent that Leicester Barber regretted losing the most.

“The more you reduce the time, the bigger the bonus will be.”

“…I’ll try to reduce it as much as possible.”

“Ada.”

“Yes, Customer. Mr. Barber? Please check the employment contract here.”

Engel Barber’s eyes flash as he skims through the contract.

‘The conditions are very generous.’

What pleases him most is that the content they just discussed has also been inserted into the contract.

He immediately signs as if there’s nothing more to examine and stands up.

“Then I’ll organize an acquisition team right away.”

“Don’t you need to examine the contract more?”

“I’ve seen and made contracts like this countless times.”

During his university days, he worked part-time at Chicago Hancock Investment and saw and created them to the point of being sick of them.

“Also, I don’t think there’s any other company that would recruit me under these conditions.”

Engel Barber, who exchanges handshakes with a grin and turns around, takes out his phone as soon as he exits the building.

“It’s me. You’re not busy right now, are you? Even if you are, please come. I just found an employer who will fulfill my dream.”

‘First, a veteran professional manager.’

He needs someone who can transfer and assist him with the know-how about acquisition and corporate establishment, things he currently lacks.

‘No matter what work you do, personnel comes first.’

He then began contacting the talents he met in high school and university, and even the staff members of his father’s company, Chicago Hancock Investment.

Meanwhile, Larry and Ada look at Johann with anxious eyes.

“Can we trust him?”

“He’s also a talent recommended by Mr. Barber, but we have to believe in his dream.”

His dream of creating a world where everyone doesn’t have to worry about medicine costs.

“Phew. Right. It’s your money anyway…”

Even if it fails, there will be things to learn from it.

‘It’s our money though…’

That’s what they think, but it doesn’t ease their worries. Except for Leicester Barber’s recommendation, there’s no objective basis for trusting Engel Barber.

‘We’ll know if we watch.’

That Engel Barber was the best choice.

“Hmm.”

Larry’s complexion suddenly darkens as he looks at the confident Johann with anxious eyes.

“Hey, Johann. I’m sorry to bring this up just one day after you pulled yourself together…”

“The stage performance?”

“…Yeah. There are only three weeks left now.”

While it’s very painful to say this to his son who probably hasn’t recovered from the shock he received a week ago, the stage performance is already contracted content from before.

Not only has he now become an 18-year-old adult, but above all, he’s a professional, so he had to take responsibility for this matter himself.

“I’m also pained to say this but…”

They needed to decide on the concept, such as whether he would go on stage alone with Camila as they had done so far, or whether they needed to create a separate set.

“Don’t worry. I actually contacted Teacher Salonen.”

He happened to be in LA, so they could arrange a meeting appointment.

Ring! Ring!

“Ah, you must have arrived. Yes, Teacher.”

Johann answers the phone and gets up, and Larry watches Johann’s back as he leaves the conference room with shaking eyes.

‘A collaboration with an orchestra?’

A collaboration between hip-hop and orchestra.

“…Crazy.”

“It seems like he’s handled all the shock.”

“Yeah…”

Otherwise, his steps couldn’t be that light.

The two who had lived together for the past seven years and could read Johann’s psychological state even with their eyes closed.

It was truly fortunate and grateful.

“Ah, this isn’t the time for this.”

They needed to hear how to set up the stage.

Larry hurriedly chased after Johann.

* * *

Esa-Pekka Salonen, who had come to LA on business and received Johann’s call, narrows his eyes.

“A collaboration between hip-hop and orchestra…”

Like collaborations with rock bands, there are quite a few cases of hip-hop and orchestra collaborations.

Collaborations with hip-hop began in earnest after the 2000s, and just looking at recent cases, there was the famous rapper Nas’s 20th anniversary debut collaboration with the National Symphony Orchestra of Washington DC.

Besides that, famous rappers like Jay-Z and Kanye West have also collaborated with orchestras.

What Johann wants must be that kind of collaboration.

“But why now of all times?”

Even though it’s his 7th year since debut, Johann is a singer-songwriter who just released his first full album and only became an adult this year. The public can’t help but see Johann as a young child, not a veteran.

Even stubborn classical fans would frown. The situation was different from rappers who had already established themselves.

“You could be criticized as a young punk who’s gotten pretentious. Are you okay with that?”

Johann smiles at Esa-Pekka Salonen’s words.

“Classical fans have waited for me for so long. I thought I should at least show them a preview trailer.”

“Hmm…”

“And it’s not simply arranging hip-hop, ‘Letter Written from Heaven,’ for orchestra performance.”

“What do you mean… Wait, you?!”

Chills!

Larry, who had been chasing Johann, also stares at Johann with wide eyes as goosebumps assault his entire body.

Johann nods.

“Yes. It will probably become a new genre like Saint Rock.”

‘Since Tupac and Rachmaninoff will join forces.’

The increased capacity limit thanks to James Han made it possible.

“Please give me just two days.”

The sheet music will come out within that time.

“This should be enough to have you as conductor, right?”

Even as a preview trailer.

At the confidence of the genius who had already created a new genre by combining hymns and rock, Esa-Pekka Salonen and Larry’s jaws dropped.

* * *

Creak!

A 5-story building on Hollywood street.

Johann enters through the door of the top floor, and the panoramic view of a massive recording studio unfolds before his eyes.

High ceilings with the ceiling between the 4th and 5th floors removed, and a recording booth occupying half of that space.

State-of-the-art audio equipment installed outside the recording booth and instruments set up on one side.

This sight of two entire floors converted into recording space always brings a smile first.

“Really, every time I come here I think it’s worth the expensive price.”

Just looking at it makes you feel full.

Johann takes a drink from the refrigerator, sits in front of the Steinway piano installed on one side, closes his eyes, and enters the library.

“When I made Saint Rock, it was really difficult…”

Connecting the hymns of ‘Composer of the Holy Spirit, Wipo’ with Josef II’s classical music and the rock of ‘Eagles, Joseph Fiddler Walsh,’ linking and harmonizing the distant past with the present, I thought my head would explode.

But now I don’t have to do that.

“Search. Rachmaninoff. Tupac.”

Whoosh!

In the dark universe, a large star falls from among the celestial bodies moving majestically in high places.

A marble bounces out from the galactic river and flies over.

[The Last Romanticist, Sergei Vasilievich Rachmaninoff]

[2PAC, Tupac Amaru Shakur]

Johann frowns at the sight of two marbles of very different sizes.

Tupac cheerfully poking at Rachmaninoff in greeting, and Rachmaninoff trying to distance himself in horror.

It was the same scene he saw yesterday.

The stubborn and lofty pride of being called the last romanticist was refusing to harmonize with modern music.

“I understand your stubbornness, but let’s get along while I’m asking nicely, Mr. Rachmaninoff. I could choose a completely different musician.”

For example, Alexander Nikolayevich Scriabin.

Rachmaninoff’s classmate at the Moscow Conservatory and a figure who was continuously evaluated as his rival throughout his lifetime.

“If you don’t want to perform in front of audiences again, to show your music, then keep being stubborn.”

…Groan.

“Okay.”

He finally gave in.

‘Being able to stand before audiences again is definitely significant, right?’

Just like how ‘The Devil’s Violin, Niccolò Paganini’ easily opened up everything about himself.

Johann embraced both marbles, saying he was asking for their help, and at that moment a massive explosion occurred inside his body.

Classical and hip-hop.

The talents, lives, and memories of the masters from both worlds intersect.

Those who had been reluctant begin to feel curiosity about each other’s music, deconstruct it, and understand it. They become one and overlap.

Inspiration was erupting like a volcano.

“Gasp!”

Thud!

Johann opens his eyes and strikes the keys.

It was the sound of the loneliness of the piercingly high and blue sky penetrating the heart.

* * *

His dream of building a brilliant career had crumbled.

For 3 or 4 years, he spent most of each day sitting in a daze, as if he might collapse and have a seizure at any moment.

“If there were a conservatory in hell and a talented student were to write a symphony based on the seven plagues that Moses brought upon Egypt, he would have pleased the residents of hell by magnificently completing his task.”

The sentence that always tormented his dazed mind.

Why was conductor Alexander Glazunov always drunk?

Did he dismiss it because it was a premiere?

Why couldn’t I knock him down?

If I had a father like others, wouldn’t he have disrespected me so much?

Why did father live like that and then run away?

Why did he pass his burden onto me?

Why did sister Elena leave so meaninglessly?

When my two brothers also left so meaninglessly in childhood, why!

“Why did I marry my cousin! Why! Why! Why-!”

The Orthodox Church that tormented him terribly, saying your circumstances don’t matter, even though it was a decision made to protect his family.

It seemed like the world, like God, was tormenting only him.

Still, he couldn’t let go of music.

Because music was all he had learned since birth.

Because music was his very life.

To avoid becoming like his father who abandoned his family and lived a dissolute life, even though he struck the piano keys every day, his mind always craved creation.

However, the trauma of his premiere failure and extreme criticism held his feet back.

Fear gnawed at his soul.

Then, like fate, he met a doctor.

“I am afraid, sir.”

“Mr. Sergei, you have merely stumbled for a brief moment. Just like a young child who gets up and dusts themselves off after falling, this is a failure that can come to anyone.”

“I heard Mr. Sergei’s performance yesterday. Yesterday, I came to understand God’s will.”

“They say God sends trials to those He intends to use greatly. Congratulations. Mr. Sergei, you have found favor in God’s eyes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sergei. Thanks to you, I was able to succeed in my proposal. At the very least, I was able to avoid a loveless marriage like my father and mother.”

“Mr. Sergei, you will soon compose a new symphony. And that piece will astonish the world. I eagerly await to see that moment.”

Words of encouragement that whispered in his ears every day.

“…Is that so?”

Those words healed his soul.

They gave him the strength to rise again.

And they led to his first step toward greatness, composing Piano Concerto No. 2.

A piece that compressed the emotions of 3-4 years of suffering from harsh criticism and the world’s torment.

The courage he gained from meeting the doctor.

Waaaaaaah!

Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap!

Pouring applause.

The shock of people rising to their feet.

Rachmaninoff smiled brightly as he saw Nikolai among them, tightly holding his pregnant wife’s hand as if saying ‘See, wasn’t I right?’

‘You were right, sir. I have astonished the world. Thank you.’

It was the moment when a great musician overcame trials and rose up.

* * *

Bang!

Dark night, stinking alley.

The ear-splitting roar and shotgun slugs that passed two inches above his head completely changed the thoughts of Tupac, the black boy who had grown up in a homeless shelter.

From childhood, he thought he was born by God’s mistake. Because he grew up in a trash bin where those born by mistake were gathered.

Stinking vagrants visible when he turned his head.

Drug addicts.

Hippies who blamed the world.

His mother, who always wandered looking for a man to protect her while abandoning her child and leading the fight for black civil rights.

They were all trash, and he considered himself trash for being there too.

His soul became murky, his eyes died.

Like the hippies, he resented God and the world.

He wanted to escape.

He wanted to liberate.

He wanted to destroy.

The world, society, perception.

He sat in front of a static-filled TV and ground his teeth.

Then someone appeared who taught him what love was.

Someone who showed him the world could be warm.

-You weren’t born by God’s mistake, Tupac Amaru Shakur.

He was his mother’s former boyfriend.

A benefactor who took them in and loved them out of old affection, despite having no reason to protect them.

A point of light was marked in his murky soul, the will to live in the world.

He let Tupac learn acting and music.

He taught him what it meant to smile, and showed him that happiness could be created.

“But God didn’t want me to be happy.”

Their circumstances became difficult after his stepfather, who was a member of the Black Liberation Army, went to prison on charges of armed robbery to fund the organization.

After learning that the person who had brought light to him was someone who could harm others for his own benefit, his soul became murky again.

“But once that light was marked, the addiction to happiness couldn’t completely corrupt me.”

Even though he ended up selling drugs on the street, he couldn’t take away their hope too.

Even if it was a path to death.

Is this right? Should I keep living like this? While he was constantly pondering, that incident occurred.

A moment as if God was saying he could stop suffering now.

The shotgun bullets that passed over his head along with the words ‘Get down!’ that struck his ears.

“I don’t know if it was God’s voice or a hallucination.”

But after that day, he quit being a drug dealer and tried to live like a human being.

He took the GED, and later became a backup dancer, road manager, and guest rapper for the legendary alternative hip-hop band Digital Underground, following their tours.

“I guess that was the fate given to me.”

A public that gradually acknowledged him.

Focused attention.

-You weren’t born by God’s mistake, Tupac Amaru Shakur.

He could finally truly understand the meaning of those words.

He became happy again.

He became intoxicated with the happiness of success.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He should have listened more to his heart’s cry that grew fearful as he became happier.

He should have treasured more the inspiration that always surged up.

He should have cherished each day like a treasure.

He should have become humble.

If he had…

Bang!

“…Ha. Damn it.”

‘Such a moment wouldn’t have come.’

He wouldn’t have regretted like this.

‘If I had realized sooner what was truly precious to me…’

He wouldn’t have regretted this much.

He could have fully enjoyed this moment.

Ah, music.

Song.

My friend and my everything.

Tupac shed tears at the music that held his hand and headed somewhere high above, at the music being completed in a world of light.

Thus, the two people, Rachmaninoff and Tupac, looked into each other’s lives.

“Crazy…”

Someone’s murmur represented the hearts of Esa-Pekka Salonen and the LA Philharmonic.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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