Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 235

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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 235

‘I knew I wasn’t seeing things wrong!’

I still remember it vividly.

7 years ago, at the Rose Bowl Flea Market in LA.

Johann, who looked exactly like the deceased Elder, James Han, with the same eyes, speaking so clearly.

I thought it couldn’t be him since he was in someone else’s arms, but for some reason, Johann’s face from that time kept coming to mind even after returning to Tacoma.

Today I found out the reason for certain.

‘Even when I saw him on TV and in newspapers, I thought he really looked similar…’

As Garcia steps away, Johann nods toward Rick.

He climbs the stairs and stands in front of the family portrait.

“Doesn’t it look like a painting by Pietro Rotari?”

Pietro Antonio Rotari, an Italian painter from the Baroque era.

The vivid portrayal of people in hazy yet bright, cold yet warm tones reminds one of him.

‘That could be.’

He probably absorbed and observed him to paint the picture.

“The Elder was such a talented person. Just like you.”

Garcia smiles while quietly gazing at Johann.

“Originally I was going to warn the person who bought this house… but since it’s returned to its rightful owner, there’s no need for that.”

This is the mansion of the Elder, James Han, who was his benefactor.

He was going to warn against carelessly damaging or destroying the mansion, but that’s no longer necessary.

“How happy the Elder would have been to see you grown up like this…”

He would have danced with joy, especially with his great-grandson’s wife here too.

The Elder, who despite achieving so much, never hesitated to mingle with people.

“…For that, you sold it at quite an expensive price.”

“Think of it as a debt your father owed.”

And that includes the value of the masterpieces and other treasures inside.

“John Han…”

“So you do know.”

What tragic irony of fate is this.

Not only did the child he abandoned in the forest as a baby survive, but they crossed paths at one location like destiny, and he even told the loan shark who was chasing him where to find him.

He laughed as if it were absurd, and Johann furrowed his brow.

“I understand you charge compound interest?”

He doesn’t know how much was borrowed, but 7 years have passed since then. Normally, interest exceeding the mansion’s sale price should have accumulated.

Garcia snorts at those words.

“Do you know the secret to how I’ve survived this long?”

Garcia Martinez, so notorious in Tacoma that there’s a saying to sell your soul to the devil before borrowing money from Garcia.

“Because I know how to keep boundaries.”

Johann, called by various aliases like Wolf Knight, Saint of Tanzania, and others. Touching such a big shot would be no different from giving up everything he had desperately accumulated so far.

Smirk!

“That’s unfortunate.”

Chills!

‘As expected!’

I knew this would happen.

“Even that expression is exactly like the Elder…”

James Han, who was absolutely firm when he said no.

Shaking his head, he takes out an old leather notebook from his pocket and hands it to Johann.

“This is one of the Elder’s collectibles I recovered recently. This will probably be the last one.”

Johann’s eyes widen.

“You were still recovering them until now?”

“I told you back then.”

That he was going to make a museum.

“But then you sold it like this.”

If the price hadn’t met his expectations, if they had tried to haggle down from his initial asking price, Garcia would have secretly siphoned off the valuable treasures from James Han’s estate that he had recovered.

“Hahaha!”

Garcia bursts into laughter, pats Johann’s shoulder, and turns around.

“Welcome to Tacoma. I’m sure… many people will welcome you.”

He left the mansion saying they’d see each other again, and Johann watches him go before snorting.

“I told you loan sharks can’t be trusted.”

“Will it be okay?”

The matter of Johann’s origins is still being hotly debated with such high interest. Just tipping off the media about this fact could make a lot of money.

“And he still hasn’t torn up the promissory note.”

“It’ll be fine. He doesn’t seem that thoughtless.”

No matter how high the interest, it would just be a brief flash in the pan anyway, and he probably just realized that the moment he tries to play games with the promissory note, he dies.

“I wasn’t planning to leave him alone anyway.”

“Huh?”

“What he’s done is too vicious to just leave him be.”

I might not have known before, but now I do. He even tried to pull tricks after selling the mansion at a high price.

“Tricks? Ah…!”

Emily, remembering Garcia’s earlier words about originally planning to give a warning, opens her mouth wide.

“Don’t tell me he was going to try to buy back the mansion?”

At a price lower than what he sold it for.

“It doesn’t make sense from the start that he came to warn the homeowner who legitimately purchased the mansion, does it?”

Since he was going to take it by semi-force anyway, he probably just made up some random excuse regardless of whether the other party understood or not.

But he gave up when he found out it was himself who bought the mansion.

“…What kind of crazy person is this?”

“Would someone who came from Tacoma to LA just to collect borrowed money be a normal person?”

He crossed several states, even tracked all of John Han’s movements and recovered all of James Han’s estate that John Han had sold.

He was someone with an incredible obsession with money.

“…We absolutely can’t leave him alone.”

How many people must have suffered because of Garcia.

Emily clenched her fists, and Johann said that would naturally happen as he took a photo of the family portrait with his phone.

Click!

“Phew. Should I send it to Larry?”

“Yeah. Won’t he come faster this way?”

“…Can’t you send it tomorrow?”

“Haha. Alright!”

Johann extended his hand to Emily, and as Emily took his hand, their full-scale mansion exploration began.

* * *

Meanwhile, at a traffic light.

A skinhead Middle-aged Man gripping the steering wheel of a stopped luxury sedan looks at Garcia.

“Boss, are you really giving up like this?”

“Then what?”

Garcia had planned to pressure the mansion’s real owner to buy back the mansion.

As that massive profit margin flickered before his eyes, the Middle-aged Man couldn’t bear the regret. That diary Garcia gave away for free, and even the diary he bought at a very expensive price.

“Since he won’t be living in Tacoma anyway…”

He’ll surely just hire a manager and visit occasionally, so how about disguising it as a burglary and stealing the valuable treasures.

“Of course we’d be the first suspects, but who in this Tacoma would dare investigate the boss.”

Garcia, who rules Tacoma’s nights. Both the police and FBI would just pretend to investigate and then drop it.

“Most of the people who actually received James Han’s kindness have either died or have dementia, so public opinion won’t form either.”

No, Garcia wasn’t someone who cared about such things in the first place.

At those words, the other Middle-aged Man sitting in the passenger seat is tempted, but Garcia just snorts dismissively.

“Shut up and turn the car toward the safe. We need to grab just the safe and run.”

“…What?”

“W-what do you suddenly mean by that, Boss?!”

“If that guy has the same personality as the Elder, he’s probably thinking about getting rid of me right about now.”

His instincts are screaming the same thing.

“Police? FBI? The money and connections I’ve spread around?”

What would happen if the world-famous Johann mentions him? At minimum, the FBI Washington field office would move, and if things go badly, headquarters would move.

If the Washington field office moves, that’s fine. He’s fed them plenty of bribes.

The problem is if FBI headquarters moves.

“In that case, the Washington State governor and Tacoma mayor who’ve been eating my money all this time would pretend they never knew me, acting like they never took bribes.”

No, maybe they’d even try to kill him. They probably suspect he has records of the bribes.

“That’s why I immediately prostrated myself the moment I saw that guy!”

Mentioning John Han’s debt was just to test the waters. To see if there were any feelings about John Han.

“That’s why I said it was regrettable, didn’t I?”

“That’s the problem!”

The fact that he felt regret.

This was one of the most decisive reasons for wanting to run away with just the safe.

“It means I was an eyesore to him!”

James Han never tolerated such beings lingering around him.

“How could an Asian mixed-blood build such assets in those days!”

A mixed-blood who could neither become Asian nor, even less so, white.

“Thanks to versatile talents? Because he gained people’s trust due to his generous nature?”

All nonsense.

That was an era when you absolutely couldn’t achieve such wealth unless you were more ruthless than the world’s prejudice and persecution.

‘You don’t know. How terrifying the Elder was!’

Moreover, the name Gray Jefferson that Johann mentioned.

It’s a common name if you think about it, but Garcia knows that name.

‘So Johann Jefferson’s Jefferson was that Jefferson!’

The Jefferson family of the Western States.

Why didn’t he think of the previous head of the Jefferson family even after seeing the painting?

This was the remaining reason he decided to flee, abandoning everything he’d built so far.

“…Toreno. Ricardo.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Even if you don’t like my decision right now and I look like a coward, I hope you’ll follow me. Do you remember what I said when I took you in?”

“…We’re family now, so we go to the end.”

“Right. Even though we’re running away like this, I’ll take responsibility for your lives somehow, so don’t worry.”

“Yes, Boss!”

With that, a warm atmosphere circulated in the car.

‘The boss has gotten old too. Getting scared of just some young punk like that.’

‘Let’s devour him, brother. We know everything about how the boss runs his business and who he spreads money to. Or we could just take the safe.’

‘No. The boss must have hidden something wherever he’s planning to flee. Let’s retrieve that first, then eliminate him.’

‘…They’re probably thinking like this right about now.’

Looking at the glances they’re exchanging, it’s obvious.

‘I’ll have to get rid of those bastards too.’

Not trusting each other, they dreamed their separate dreams.

* * *

Swoosh!

Johann opens his eyes in the large room with a small chandelier hanging and carefully gets out of bed.

Swish. Swish.

The red carpet feels soft underfoot.

After getting coffee from the kitchen on the first floor and leaving the building, under the still gray sky, the fountain spraying coolly makes the cold winter wind even chillier.

“Whooo.”

Misty breath scattering in the air.

“Is it already the third day?”

The time he’s stayed in this mansion.

‘Maybe it’s because I think of it as great-grandfather’s house…’

Rather than feeling like someone else’s house, it feels more like family’s house, so it seems like he’s slept well from the first day.

“Hm?”

Johann turns his head at the fishy smell brushing his nose and chuckles.

Traces of a bonfire and clamshells piled in one corner of the garden. These are traces of yesterday’s continued clam party.

“What on earth is she trying to make with those…”

She says she’s going to make a landscape, but it seems like he’ll have to help with more than 90 percent of it.

Shaking his head, Johann brings a bucket filled with water and detergent, puts all the clamshells in it, stretches, and moves on again.

The place he headed to was a wide room without windows on the first floor.

Dozens of paintings displayed along the walls like in an art museum.

“Caravaggio. Velázquez. Bernini.”

Caravaggio, the Baroque-era Italian painter and murderer.

Diego Velázquez, famous for his work Las Meninas.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, the great architect, sculptor, and painter.

“These paintings alone would be worth tens of millions of dollars.”

Other works painted by Baroque-era artists fill two walls.

Johann, who was admiring those paintings, stops in front of one painting.

A painting of several men standing side by side with their arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling brightly. The title is “Explorers Who Discovered Tacoma.”

But there’s something strange about the painting.

On one explorer’s leg, there’s writing like a signature.

“We are sinners and usurpers.”

“John Meyer.”

Swish!

Emily’s soft arm crosses over his shoulder to wrap around his neck, and her chest presses against his back.

“Aren’t you cold?”

She’s naked with only a blanket wrapped around her.

The current temperature is below freezing. Unlike always-warm LA, there was a risk of catching a cold.

“I’m fine.”

Maybe because the house is well-built, it’s not very cold.

“More importantly, why did John Meyer leave such words?”

“If Tacoma was the natives’ homeland, he could have left such words.”

Historically, Tacoma was discovered earlier than Seattle.

Seattle was the first place people began to settle, but it was only a year’s difference.

“Even the city name isn’t English-style.”

Tacoma sounds like a native name.

“True. Seattle was also derived from a native chief’s name, wasn’t it?”

Trampling down, stealing their homeland.

They built white people’s cities on top of that.

“If the natives were massacred because they discovered Tacoma, it makes sense that he left those words, but…”

Why is it?

Emily can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more besides that.

“Why do you think that?”

“Those explorers wouldn’t have discovered just one or two places, right?”

There’s Lakewood right next door, and Olympia next to that.

All of those Native Americans who lived there would have been driven out and had their land taken away, so it’s hard to understand why he would leave such words only in the painting he made while discovering Tacoma.

The word explorer rather than pioneer also bothers me.

“Usually an explorer is someone who searches for something, not someone who looks for land suitable for people to live on, right?”

Those are pioneers. People who search for and pioneer land suitable for people to live on.

“That’s right.”

Johann had been bothered by those points as well.

“If there were something like a diary, it would become clear…”

“A diary…”

Johann slowly closed and opened his eyes, then laughed as if it were absurd.

‘There is one?’

And he had been the one who possessed it.

More precisely, it was James Han’s inheritance that Garcia had handed over, saying it was the last thing he found.

But that wasn’t the problem. Johann’s expression hardened as he accessed more memories.

‘So that’s why he left such words!’

“There is one, a diary.”

“Huh?”

“Those notebooks Garcia brought. That was John Meyer’s diary.”

“…Let’s look at it quickly! Where did you put it?”

“Library on the 2nd floor!”

Just as the two urgently left the room and were about to run to the stairs.

Swoosh!

“Huh?”

“What?!”

Larry entered through the opening front door, his face hardened for some reason.

And…

“Grandmother?”

Melanie Jefferson following behind Larry.

But she wasn’t alone.

A tall old man was walking beside her with a sullen expression, and Melanie Jefferson was hitting his back telling him to stop it already.

‘Grayson Jefferson?!’

It was Grayson Jefferson, Larry’s father and his own grandfather.

‘How is that person here?!’

Johann’s feet stopped.

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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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