Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 256

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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 256

“Let’s do Summer!”

“You want to play Summer at this kind of banquet? Are you crazy?”

“Ah, why! We can show off our skills to our heart’s content!”

His first drama filming in his life.

Excited Norman couldn’t see anything else.

Hayden, Ewan McGregor, and Sean Bean looked puzzled at Norman and Philip raising their voices like that.

“Summer means The Four Seasons, right?”

“Isn’t The Four Seasons quite a cheerful piece?”

Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, well-known even to those unfamiliar with classical music.

As they hummed Spring from The Four Seasons, Johann lifted his violin and drew his bow instead of answering.

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba! Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba!

Starting gently then suddenly changing to dramatic turbulence, Hayden, Ewan McGregor, and Sean Bean widened their eyes, and Johann looked at the three as if asking if they understood.

“Uh… is that Summer?”

“Yes. This is Summer from The Four Seasons.”

When Johann nodded at Hayden’s bewildered question, Sean Bean blinked.

“What did Vivaldi experience in summer?”

‘Haha!’

Johann burst into laughter inwardly, then turned his gaze and shook his head at Norman and Philip.

“Anyway, The Four Seasons won’t work.”

“Why!”

“Because as Philip said, it’s not suitable for a banquet.”

Antonio Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, with a total of 12 movements expressing spring, summer, autumn, and winter through 3 movements each.

However, The Four Seasons had various emotions and atmospheres complexly woven into each movement, to the extent that those unfamiliar with it wouldn’t notice if you deceived them and played a different season.

Especially Summer, rather than the sweltering heat most people would first think of, expressed the changeable summer weather with sweeping storms, making Summer and Winter from The Four Seasons the most confusing.

While it might be good for showing off a performer’s skill, it was unsuitable for playing at a banquet.

“Hmm… then how about Alla Rustica?”

“That won’t work either. This isn’t just any banquet, it’s the Grimani family’s banquet.”

The string concerto Alla Rustica that Vivaldi composed around the same time as The Four Seasons.

With its cheerful rhythm that invigorates listeners, it wasn’t unsuitable for a banquet.

But Johann shook his head again this time too.

Rustica means simplicity in Italian, and no matter how small the banquet, it was inappropriate for the Grimani family’s banquet, who held supreme power in the Venetian Republic.

“Hmm. In the end, Saint Anthony might be best.”

Violin Concerto in D major RV 212.

A concerto Antonio Vivaldi composed to honor Saint Anthony of Padua, who preached for the poor and sick.

“Tch! That piece is boring.”

Johann was puzzled by Norman grumbling and turning away.

Saint Anthony was bouncy and very cheerful, a piece both performers and audience could enjoy with smiles.

Surely the usual Norman would have welcomed such a piece, but this was an unexpected reaction. Come to think of it, wanting to play Summer from The Four Seasons earlier was also strange.

“Adolescence?”

“He’s been like that ever since he saw that score.”

Mozart’s score.

“Definitely adolescence.”

Norman, the same age as Johann at 19. It was the perfect time for adolescence, and Mozart’s score must have been quite a shock.

“Then I’ll go tune up.”

Now that the piece was decided, he needed to coordinate with the performers and extras who could play instruments.

“You’ve memorized all your lines, right?”

“Well, yes, but…”

Johann didn’t miss Philip’s body stiffening momentarily.

“Then forget them.”

“Huh?”

“Just say whatever comes to mind in the moment.”

“…You mean I don’t need to stick to the set lines and should just say what comes to mind according to the situation?”

“Just don’t forget that you’re Marcello.”

“…I was Marcello.”

“Norman playing a noble is a bit…”

The Marcello brothers, sons of Agostino Marcello who was a wealthy city councilor in Venice. Philip would play either the elder brother Alessandro Marcello, or Marcello’s top disciple.

Snicker!

“Let’s do that.”

As Philip left, Ian and Sean Bean approached with furrowed brows.

“Writer, how should we treat them? Michele and Albise are supposed to be great figures, but…”

The other party was none other than Vivaldi, a great musician who left his name in history.

Matthew and Hayden, who had approached, looked at Johann with the same thought.

“Just treat them comfortably.”

Like the usual Michele and Albise.

“Hmm. To explain precisely, like treating instruments that can speak like humans?”

“…You mean as tools for showing off.”

“Yes. That was natural thinking for upper-class nobles of that time.”

No matter how outstanding a musician, they were ultimately people who received money to perform for others.

They were incomparable to nobles born with blue blood, merely jesters with slightly special talents.

“Elitist consciousness…”

“Think of that mindset as underlying their consciousness.”

“Whew.”

Johann glanced at them getting disgusted and looked at Hayden.

Hayden’s eyes lit up.

“But Casanova doesn’t know Michele and the others think this way, does he, Writer?”

“That’s right.”

“I understand.”

He seemed to know how to act.

As all the actors finished understanding, Matthew looked at the Assistant Director.

“Let’s start filming in 30 minutes.”

“Yes, Manager! We’ll start filming in 30 minutes, so…”

As the Assistant Director moved away with his radio, tension began flowing through the film set.

* * *

A spacious hall displaying statues and paintings.

Nobles in clothes with gorgeous colors and abundant frills walked around laughing heartily.

An invitation to Grimani Palace. For some, it was the glory of a lifetime; for others, an ordinary moment.

Pam! Para! Pam!

Everyone glanced sideways at the performers for the high-level performance that made this moment more satisfying.

Some recognized the performers’ identity and were surprised.

They invited performers of that caliber to such a small banquet.

As surprise spread and Michele Grimani appeared, everyone stepped aside to make way, and Michele Grimani naturally walked that path and approached the orchestra that had stopped playing.

He looked at Marcello.

“Thank you for coming.”

“It’s an honor, Your Excellency.”

Marcello bowed and kissed Michele’s ring.

Michele’s lips twitched slightly as he looked at Vivaldi.

Vivaldi also kissed the ring.

“Please take care of us today.”

As he turned and gestured slightly, music rang out again.

Casanova, hiding in a corner of the hall, watches this scene with gleaming eyes.

“The first people His Excellency greeted…”

The artists.

“All the nobles were glancing at them.”

Especially the female nobles.

This was the moment Casanova became interested in music.

“Cut! Good!”

Perhaps thanks to the exceptionally high-quality live performance, it’s clearly felt that all the actors, even those in minor roles, are more deeply immersed in their characters.

He feels grateful to Johann for bringing them here.

“After shooting Casanova’s bust shot, we’ll film the scene where Michele and Albise meet!”

It was a scene where the gazes of two people, who invited and were invited for their own purposes, secretly crossed.

“You want me to look downward?”

“Yes. Please look as if you’re gazing at a boy around 13 years old.”

“Understood.”

After some minor adjustments, filming begins again.

Casanova, who had just had a brief encounter with Albise through Michele, approaches Marcello, who is about to switch with another band.

“Hello. I am Giacomo, studying in this palace through the ocean-deep grace of His Excellency Michele Grimani.”

A cunning way of speaking that doesn’t clearly reveal his status. He also conceals his identity through etiquette that only nobles can perform – slightly lifting his hat and bowing his head.

Casanova shows bright, sparkling eyes.

“I’m Alessandro of Marcello. What is it?”

“Since you’ve given permission, I’ll ask. How many times have you extinguished flames, sir?”

Extinguishing flames means when words are no longer sufficient.

The omitted words refer to the bedroom, the wordplay of nobles.

Flinch!

“…You crazy bastard.”

‘Pfft!’

“Haha! Okay, cut! Let’s go with a full shot again!”

Johann gave a thumbs up to Philip, who was bewildered by his suddenly revealed true feelings, and Norman, who was rolling around holding his stomach.

It couldn’t have been a more perfect reaction.

“Johann.”

Johann sees Rick, who has approached at some point.

“The owner of this mansion has arrived.”

‘Already?’

The mansion’s owner, who had supposedly left for a trip after signing the rental contract with the production team. It was only a few hours ago that he expressed his intention to purchase the mansion.

‘He couldn’t have gone far.’

“…I’ll step out for a moment, Matthew.”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

Leaving behind Matthew, who was completely absorbed in the situation, Johann stood up and went outside.

As he exited through the arched entrance, he immediately spotted an elderly man in his 80s, leaning on a cane while examining the building’s exterior.

Despite his ordinary clothes and ordinary cane, the old man didn’t seem ordinary at all, perhaps due to his perfectly straight posture.

Johann approached him and extended his hand.

“I apologize for the rude contact. I’m Johann Jefferson.”

“…Hehe. I never expected Rachmaninoff’s reincarnation to take interest in this mansion.”

“Haha. Shall we move to another location?”

The two headed to a cafe outside the filming location.

* * *

Slurp!

A quiet cafe with warm sunlight streaming down.

The fragrant flower tea fills the mouth with its aroma.

Johann nods his head while savoring the scent, facing the old man who shows expectant eyes.

“Wonderful tea.”

“Hehe. There’s nothing better for colds and fatigue.”

Linden flower tea, which people of all ages frequently brew and drink, believing it’s good for colds and fatigue.

“By the way, Rachmaninoff’s reincarnation…”

“Please speak comfortably.”

“Then I’ll call you Sir Jefferson.”

Rustle.

When the old man reveals the rosary wrapped around his wrist, Johann nods as if he has no choice.

“Did I perhaps disturb you?”

The old man’s vacation, his rest.

“Hehe. Not at all.”

He has lived here in Eisenstadt his entire life.

He’s already 82 years old. At this age, going too far away could cause problems.

“So I was staying at my son-in-law’s house in nearby Rust, just fishing.”

Rust, a village adjacent to Lake Neusiedl, a nearby lake. That’s why he could come quickly.

“I see…”

He had indeed caused a disturbance.

Reading Johann’s apologetic expression, the old man waves his hand saying no and gazes at the mansion that has become something completely different in the distance.

“I never expected Sir Jefferson to take interest in that mansion.”

“Let me apologize first.”

For renovating the mansion.

Although this was also part of the agreed contract, he still apologizes out of courtesy.

“Hehe. Not at all.”

“But I really fell in love with the mansion after it was remodeled like that.”

Not just the mansion, but all of Eisenstadt’s scenery as well.

“So much that I’d like to fly here occasionally to work.”

“Oh…”

The old man’s face brightens.

“So even knowing it was rude behavior, I reached out like this to test the waters, Mr. Esterhazy. Or rather, Victor, a collateral member of the Esterházy family.”

Esterhazy, a collateral member of the Esterházy family, the legitimate ruling family of Eisenstadt, who was also a close friend of Eduard Strauss and had sold that mansion to Eduard.

Flinch!

The old man’s eyes widened.

* * *

Whoosh!

One night in July 1899 was extremely rainy.

Clatter clatter!

A carriage entering Eisenstadt makes its way into a mansion.

“Whoa whoa!”

“Neigh!”

Clop clop!

The coachman, after calming the horses that were stamping their feet from the cold, jumps down from the driver’s seat and knocks on the carriage door.

“We’ve arrived, my lord.”

Creak.

The door opens and Eduard, with his sharp features, steps down.

Perhaps because he’s in his 60s, his knees scream just from descending the carriage steps.

At that moment, someone walks out from inside the mansion carrying a lantern.

An old man who approaches slowly as if he knew Eduard would come, looks into the slightly open carriage door and clicks his tongue.

“Is that all of it?”

“No, 16 more will come.”

Sixteen carriages departing from Vienna, crossing half the territory of the Austrian Empire.

Inside it contains all the records, inspiration, and sheet music left behind by Father Johann Strauss I, eldest brother Johann Strauss II, younger brother Josef Strauss who died early, and himself Eduard Strauss—everything of the Strauss family.

All of the Strauss legacy that was recently reported in headlines as having been completely burned by Eduard at the crematorium.

“Tsk tsk. What a pitiful man….”

Pity fills Esterházy’s eyes.

His dear friend Eduard Strauss, who struggled in the mud all his life, crushed under his brothers’ shadows, yet could never truly hate his brothers from the heart.

“Was it so unbearable for unworthy people to perform his brothers’ legacy?”

Did he hate it so much when gossips chattered about his brothers’ legacy? Did he hate it so much that his dead brothers continued to oppress him?

“Love and hate.”

“…Thank you for selling me the mansion.”

Esterházy sighs at his friend’s attempt to change the subject after hearing some harsh words.

“What do you mean. I didn’t sell it.”

He had merely continued to lend it so that Eduard, who was suffering under his brothers’ shadows, could at least catch his breath. The mansion still belongs to Esterházy. It always will.

“However, I’ve arranged it so your bloodline can use it anytime.”

“Only my second son knows about this place.”

Only his second son, Josef II, knows that everything of the Strauss family was moved here.

When he said he would burn it all, Josef blocked him with his whole body, so he had no choice but to reveal it.

“Right. Your second son really followed his uncles a lot.”

He followed and loved them more than his own father.

“You did well. If it were your first son, he would exploit his uncles’ legacy without hesitation.”

Eduard’s eldest son, Johann Strauss III, who lacks talent but is full of greed.

“Uncle Johann spoiled him too much.”

If not for Johann Strauss II, Johann III would never have been able to walk the path of a musician. It was Eduard who absolutely detested his children becoming musicians.

Esterházy shakes his head and looks at the coachman who stands bewildered among the servants moving the chests from the carriage.

“He’s someone we can trust.”

A coachman who doesn’t even know what’s inside the chests.

A coachman whose mother and child’s lives were saved thanks to the Strauss family’s patronage.

The people who came with the 16 carriages are all trustworthy people like him. Those who would give their lives for the Strauss family.

“The most certain method would be to silence them… Tsk. Let’s go inside. At our age, catching a cold could kill us.”

“…Let’s do that. But will the Esterházys be alright?”

Won’t they be curious when several carriages come and go from this small place?

“That moronic addict? Forget it. He’d only be interested if his own room caught fire. The Esterházy family is finished now anyway.”

“…I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. How are your children?”

“How else. They’re all still not acting their age….”

The two entered the mansion like that.

* * *

‘And afterwards, that mansion belonged to Esterházy, but it wasn’t Esterházy’s.’

The head of the family at the time sealed the entrance leading to the basement and made it so the mansion couldn’t be used as living space.

By anyone who wasn’t a descendant of Eduard Strauss.

For Esterházy anyway, it was just one of the properties he owned in Eisenstadt.

This remains the same now.

All of this was confirmed by Johann through Reading the library after confirming that the kitchen space had not been used.

Johann quietly stared at the confused Victor Esterházy.

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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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