Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 214
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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 214
Rustle!
Opening my eyes to the sound of movement, I hear faint voices.
“Teacher, I can’t fall back asleep after going to the restroom these days.”
“When you’re in your 70s, you just can’t sleep.”
“…Should we get up?”
“Let’s do that.”
The Branch Manager and Doctor carefully sneak out of the house, worried they might wake people up.
Through the creaking door, the dim light of early dawn seeps in.
“Mmm.”
“It’s okay. Sleep more.”
Johann soothes the stirring Emily and slips out of his sleeping bag.
At the same time, Rick opens his eyes.
“Are you going to exercise?”
“I want to look around for a bit.”
The village I couldn’t fully explore yesterday.
Rustle!
“It seems our guide has arrived too.”
Johann chuckles at the presence felt outside, and Rick also lets out a quiet laugh as he emerges from his sleeping bag.
Perhaps because of that noise, photographer Tanga, who had been lying like a corpse, also opens his eyes.
“If you’re going out, I’ll come along too.”
“…Sure.”
Carefully stepping outside so as not to wake Emily, they see the Young Girl crouched beside the house, wearing a look of disdain.
“Sleeping in is a bad habit.”
The Young Girl’s eyes show no trace of sleepiness, as if waking up at this hour is natural for her.
“Where are the Adults?”
“They went to the Fields and Forest.”
“Forest?”
“They farm in the Fields, and gather fruits and herbs in the Forest!”
The herbs are used in the Village or dried and sold to bigger villages.
“Oh. Could you guide us?”
That sounds more interesting than the Village.
“Yes! But what about your sister?”
“She’s a princess, so she’s a sleepyhead.”
“…?”
“Never mind.”
She must not know that fairy tale.
As Johann shakes his head, Tanga comes out carrying the large backpack he always carries around.
“Let’s go.”
Waaah! Aaaah!
Johann and the others leave the quiet Village where only the whimpering sounds of babies echo.
* * *
Step! Step!
“Inhale! Exhale.”
The forest air, cold and trembling all night, rushes toward them.
Dew from the bushes touches their skin, awakening muscles that had dulled while sleeping, and the chattering beside them gives strength to their legs.
“For me, the ugali Grandmother makes is the most delicious in the world.”
Ugali, a traditional Tanzanian food and staple made by mixing corn flour with water into a sticky texture.
“I thought the mishkaki was delicious.”
Mishkaki, a dish of seasoned meat skewered and slowly grilled over charcoal.
“Strangely, Men always like meat. Why is that?”
“Because you need strength to protect the group.”
“Strange words… Ah! Over there! Grandmother!”
‘Ah.’
Johann stops walking as the trees lined up like walls on both sides disappear.
In the dawn mist that the dimly blue sky is trying to push away.
Elderly Veterans move around among the tall crops within the boundaries of fields drawn in winding, haphazard lines.
Bean vines climbing up corn stalks.
Cassava trees preparing to droop down.
Hmm-! Hmm-!
The work song piercing their ears briefly creates the illusion that This Place might be a world from fantasy.
Rick and Tanga raise their cameras.
“Oh?!”
Johann is startled when he spots someone.
“The young Teacher is up too?”
It’s the Grandmother who received her first massage yesterday. Not just her, but all the Elderly Veterans who received massages yesterday are walking around the Fields.
“You must be sore, how are you managing?”
“What’s this little bit of pain?”
She worked the Fields the day after giving birth, so why would she lie down sick from just this much?
“Thank you. Thanks to you, my knees don’t hurt.”
And that’s not all. Her body feels refreshed as if she’s become 30 years younger.
‘I underestimated these People.’
After all, these are People who have lived their entire lives befriending nature in a place without running water or electricity. Their vitality and perseverance had to be extraordinary.
“…It’s not completely loosened yet, so please come back in three days.”
“If you’ll do it again, that’s great for me!”
Her bright smile reveals sparse teeth, making him laugh.
Click! Click!
Johann feels envious hearing the shutter sounds from behind. He had been thinking he wanted to take photos too.
“But what are the Grandfathers doing over there?”
Grandfathers standing at the Edge of the Field and Forest, looking toward the Forest. Each has a spear planted beside them.
“Those guys?”
The Grandmother who had been frowning waves her hand, telling them not to worry.
“Sometimes beasts come down to the Village, so they do that, but that’s just playing around.”
‘Ah, so that’s why there was a fence.’
“Playing… Ah, it’s not the season for beasts to approach.”
Wild beasts are clever. Those living near human villages even more so.
So they usually don’t show their noses, but when food competition becomes fierce and the scent of fruit grows strong around autumn, they quietly approach and dig up what was painstakingly cultivated for a year to fill their bellies.
They know through learning. That even if humans get angry when they steal food during harvest time, they won’t chase them to the end.
“Of course, they sometimes come in spring and summer to eat all the leaves and unripe crops, but it’s not as severe as autumn.”
These ones haven’t learned enough yet.
“Oh? A City person knows such things?”
‘I’ve experienced it countless times.’
When living in the Forest, he had used that knowledge with grapevines.
“Hoho. That’s enough now, so go see the old men. Don’t try to grab and pull random things.”
‘Previous volunteers must have done that.’
“Haha. Yes.”
He knows what’s a weed and what’s edible, but he backs away, not wanting to cause unnecessary worry.
Thud! Thud!
“…Hm? Young teacher?”
The Old Man, startled by the sound of footsteps on the undergrowth, stops making excuses and smiles gently.
“Hehe. Young teacher is more diligent than the other young people who came before. Well! Someone with such skills must be diligent!”
He shakes a transparent bottle half-filled with amber-colored liquor, asking if he’d like a drink.
When Johann rolls his eyes and nods slightly, the Old Man bursts into laughter and hands over the bottle.
‘The smell isn’t too bad…’
“Kgah?!”
“Kahahahahahat!”
A sourness that grips and shakes his uvula.
Johann, shocked by the rancid taste as if it had gone bad, glares at the Old Man who’s rolling on the ground clutching his belly, then sighs.
‘I was stupid to fall for it, so what’s the point of resenting him.’
Besides, it just doesn’t suit his taste – it’s a familiar flavor to the Elderly Veterans. Even if there was intent to prank him, it doesn’t mean he gave him something inedible.
Johann shakes his head and looks at the embedded spear.
A spear with a metal head driven into a straight piece of wood.
“May I touch it?”
“Hehe. Can’t you tell by looking?”
Still, he extends it with a pleased smile.
Tap tap. Ting!
‘Oh, this is properly made?’
The wood is solid, and the iron has been properly hammered.
The weight being a bit light is a flaw, but it should be enough to chase away thin-skinned beasts. Even with muscles weakened by old age.
‘But what material is this?’
A spear shaft that’s light yet sturdy. With all the bark stripped off and red and white dye applied, it’s impossible to tell.
“Hehehe! A man is a man indeed?!”
Liking weapons is so typically male.
“Take it. It’s a gift.”
“What? Oh, no.”
“I have many at home, so it’s fine. But… you know?”
“I’ll press down firmly for you.”
“Uhehehehehehet!”
It’s the moment the Old Man bursts into hearty laughter.
Rustle!
“Wh, who’s there!”
The Old Man hurriedly stands up and reflexively flails his arms trying to grab the spear, looking flustered, while Johann and Rick are already looking in that direction.
“It’s me.”
“Ayu! What a scare!”
“Hohohohoho!”
“Hahaha! Did we startle you much?”
The Branch Manager, Doctor, and one Grandmother walk out laughing.
The Old Man glares at them, then examines their hands.
“Did you pick anything?”
“Not much. Just plucked some cough grass and ball grass.”
Herbs that have been called by no special names since ancient times – grass good for coughs, grass that reduces swelling when eaten or applied to swollen testicles.
“Looks like we’ll have to go farther next time.”
“You want to get bitten by wild dogs and die? Stop it. Won’t even find bone fragments.”
“Either can’t open your eyes tomorrow or die from being bitten.”
“Still, going with all limbs attached is… hm?”
Everyone looks at the Doctor. His face is flushed red and he’s fidgeting restlessly.
“Why is he acting like that?”
“What? He was surprised seeing the ball grass earlier… shall we give him some?”
“Yes! Please give me some!”
The Elderly Veterans’ eyes become sympathetic.
“Well, he is at the age when it would hurt.”
“No, that’s not it!”
The Doctor looks for someone to agree with this great discovery and sees Johann.
“Can you believe this?! It’s orchitis, orchitis!”
From what he heard earlier, there’s also a tree effective for prostatitis.
“Why is that…?”
“…Phew. Currently, there are no special treatments for orchitis and prostatitis. Prescriptions of fluoroquinolone or doxycycline antibiotics and anti-inflammatory painkillers are all we have.”
Orchitis and prostatitis are divided into bacterial and non-bacterial diseases, and bacterial ones should naturally be treated with antibiotics.
But the problem is non-bacterial diseases.
Non-bacterial orchitis and prostatitis where the cause is unknown and patients must just blindly take antibiotics and anti-inflammatory painkillers.
This drives people crazy.
“Huh?”
Johann, finally understanding the Doctor’s words, stares at the ball grass.
“If it were a simple antibiotic, they wouldn’t have called it by a specific name targeting orchitis…”
“Exactly! Oh! Nature! Great nature!”
There’s still so much left in nature for humans to explore.
“Just in Tanzania alone, how many healing substances unknown to the world must there be, and if we expand to Africa, no, the entire world, how many such plants must exist!”
That’s why it’s regrettable. If he had connections with pharmaceutical companies or belonged to a university, he could at least research them, but he can’t.
Johann falls into thought watching the Doctor stomp his feet in frustration.
‘The entire world…’
He recalls the substances that could be clues for dementia treatment that he sent to Professor Richard.
The time when he sent everything from a village he saw through the Library, where long ago all residents lived long lives but very few suffered from dementia.
But what Johann knows isn’t all there is.
The Library contains countless such stories.
‘Hmm. Being a botanist traveling the world searching for such plants wouldn’t be bad either…’
A profession where no one would suspect him if he produced just a few results.
Johann began seriously contemplating, and Tanga, who had been watching him, suddenly turns with a flustered face and enters the Forest.
Bzzing! Bzzing!
Something was vibrating inside his large backpack.
‘Why is this suddenly ringing!’
Tanga, having entered the Forest, pulls out a mobile phone, no, a satellite phone from his backpack.
“Code… Yes?”
The other party immediately states their business without any confirmation procedures.
The emotion disappears from Tanga’s eyes, which had been wide with surprise at the content.
“Message received.”
Tanga, his voice now emotionless, puts away the satellite phone and steps toward the Forest.
Ziiik!
With the sound of a hidden zipper opening, he melted into the Forest.
* * *
“We’re going to retrieve Johann Jefferson.”
One of the Al-Shabaab branches located in Northern Tanzania.
The branch stirred at the Branch Manager’s words.
Kagagagagaga!
Inside the van moving along the wet dirt road.
A young man in his twenties sitting in the back seat shakes his leg as he looks at the SUV running ahead through the front window.
‘I think Awali is making a misjudgment…’
Awali, meaning the head of a branch or region.
‘No matter how I think about it, this is…’
This is Johann, a Billboard star and called the saint of Tanzania.
He’s such an important person that Tanzania’s President personally went to the airport to greet him. Touching such a person is the same as making the Tanzanian government an enemy.
“Heh. If we kidnap Johann Jefferson, we too…”
“It’s not kidnapping, we’re escorting him.”
“While also receiving ransom money and asking for support for our Al-Shabaab?”
“He’ll be eating and sleeping at our branch, so he should pay accommodation fees! Ah, and the woman too!”
“That girlfriend? Hehehe!”
‘This seems too reckless…’
Awali, who was demoted from Somalia Headquarters to one of the distant Northern Tanzania branches due to false accusations, or rather, being pushed out by a rival’s political power.
It seems he’s being reckless to return to headquarters. Johann Jefferson would certainly be a tremendous achievement.
But the problem is that Johann is American.
‘America might intervene if things go wrong!’
It’s not that he’s afraid of America.
In 2013, the U.S. counterterrorism special forces Naval Special Warfare Development Group, commonly known as DEVGRU, launched a surprise attack on Mogadishu to kill or capture high-ranking Al-Shabaab member Abdul Qadir, the commander of the Kenya Nairobi terror attack, but fled with their tails between their legs after being attacked by comrades.
While America can’t match Al-Shabaab like this, the problem is that this incident could trigger a war between Al-Shabaab and the U.S. military & Tanzania.
Thinking of the comrades who would die in that war inevitably weighs heavy on his heart.
“…Damn it. It’ll work out somehow.”
If they just secure Johann Jefferson, they’ll become heroes.
Money, honor, and beautiful women.
He looked out the window, anticipating that glorious future.
“Huh?”
Round objects were flying toward them, spewing fire and smoke.
‘RPG?’
“Everyone get down-!”
BOOOOOOM!
* * *
“Huff huff huff!”
The pale-faced young man runs through the forest.
Rat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat!
Argh! Ahhh!
The ghostly gunfire heard in the distance and comrades falling helplessly.
‘Gh, ghosts!’
American ghosts. American special forces.
After firing RPGs, no, rocket launchers used by the U.S. military, came the sniping from snipers who flew in.
Awali died on the spot, and he and the comrades who were lucky enough to survive had to flee into the forest to live.
Then began the hunt by special forces soldiers who had even painted their faces black.
And the gunshots gradually dying down.
Comrades are dying.
How many of the dozen or so comrades who fled into the forest survived?
And where is this place?
Thud!
“Kugh?!”
The young man who tripped over tree roots sits down as he tries to get up urgently.
“Fine! Just kill me! Kill me, you bastards-!”
Though his words cry out in surrender, the young man turns his rifle muzzle in all directions. While unable to pull the trigger for fear of revealing his position, he glares with frightened eyes, determined to take at least one with him.
“…Huh?”
It’s quiet. No gunshots can be heard.
‘Co, come to think of it, I haven’t heard gunshots for a while!’
Are they all dead? Is he the only survivor?
Did the U.S. special forces judge that they had killed them all?
‘If so?’
The moment the young man rolls his eyes and hurriedly tries to hide his rifle and disguise himself as an ordinary person, a resident living in Kigosi National Park.
Rustle!
“Who’s there! Come out!”
The young man hurriedly aims his rifle.
“It’s us, us! Don’t shoot!”
Two comrades walking out from the bushes.
The moment tension is released, he opens his airways that he had suppressed for fear that even his breathing might be heard.
“Huff! Huff!”
Sweat pours down to the ground.
“Are we… all who survived?”
“Probably.”
Otherwise, the gunshots would still be continuing.
“Damn it! Why on earth…!”
Why were U.S. special forces in that area of all places?
How did they recognize and attack them?
Everyone despairs at the unexpected disaster.
“This is all because of Awali, no, that stupid pig bastard!”
An incompetent and stupid guy who treated branch members like slaves while only looking after his own greed.
In the end, he died just as stupidly, exploding without even being able to jump out of the car.
“…What do we do now?”
“What do you mean what do we do? We have to go to another branch.”
“Cr, crazy! The other branches don’t know about this incident!”
This incident was an operation carried out independently by their branch’s Awali because he didn’t want to share credit with other branches.
If they go to another branch like this, they’ll certainly start with questioning why they came, and if it’s revealed that they lost Awali and only they survived and fled, they’ll skin them alive.
“So we have to say we fought hard and the special forces withdrew. We don’t know whether Awali is alive or dead.”
“…Good idea.”
They nod and look for a place to hide their rifles.
“Ah, damn it. What a dirty waste. That girlfriend looked really sexy.”
“Hehe. You’re thinking of such things in this situation…”
Rustle!
The young man who hadn’t discarded his rifle turns his muzzle in shock.
“Wa, wait! Don’t shoot! I, I’m a photographer!”
“…Tsk. Damn it.”
A black man in his twenties, terrified, with a camera hanging around his neck.
Their vigilance decreases.
The three look at each other.
“Let’s take him hostage.”
“…Good.”
If necessary, if the special forces haven’t stopped pursuing, they’ll use that guy as a hostage or shield to escape.
“Hey, you there, come here.”
A man in his early twenties who received eye signals from the young man and comrade draws a knife from his waist and approaches Tanga.
“Eek! Why, why?”
“Why? Because you’re useful to me….”
Bang!
The eyes of the man who had been gripping Tanga’s shoulder waver.
The cold muzzle and smell of gunpowder felt beneath his chin.
In the man’s eyes, frozen with fear, Tanga’s expressionless face is reflected.
“An operation you didn’t report to other branches?”
Perfect.
“No, you shouldn’t have come here.”
Tanga pulled the trigger.
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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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