Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C61

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The main road running through the center of Karatu was Highway 144, which stretched east to west. The city's layout was a patchwork of architectural styles from various countries, creating a chaotic yet oddly charming mishmash. Hotels dominated the landscape, followed by digital malls, shopping centers, and banks. Beyond these modern amenities, much of the area resembled a typical Chinese urban village from the 1970s—cramped, disorganized, and modest.

According to Zhang Jianming, this uneven development was due to Karatu's location at the entrance of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, attracting hordes of tourists. It was, in essence, a burgeoning tourist hub. In contrast, most inland towns in Tanzania lacked even decent structures.

Gu Lang first drove his battered vehicle to a repair shop on the city's southern edge. Cruising around in that car turned heads like nothing else—its "wow factor" was off the charts. A young Black mechanic greeted him with enthusiasm, giving Gu Lang a thumbs-up while inspecting the vehicle. His expression screamed admiration—or perhaps disbelief—at how such a wreck could still function.

Zhang Jianming lingered far away at the intersection, pretending not to know Gu Lang. After securing the repair receipt, Gu Lang grabbed two metal cases and his backpack, then met up with Zhang Jianming across the street at a bank to withdraw cash. There was no way to pay the fine via proxy; besides, the embassy wasn’t obligated to cover Gu Lang’s penalties.

The bank, named “NBC” (its significance unclear), sat conveniently next to a safari-themed lodge. Perfect for Gu Lang to rest while waiting for his car repairs. After withdrawing money, they checked into the hotel, opting for the largest suite available despite its hefty price tag of over 90,000 shillings per night—roughly equivalent to 300 RMB. Gu Lang didn’t hesitate to splurge.

Once their luggage was stowed away, Gu Lang and Zhang Jianming stepped out. Wang Ping, who had been dozing uncomfortably in the backpack, eagerly emerged as soon as they returned. His first order of business? A trip to the bathroom.

Wang Ping was thrilled to find an actual toilet instead of the squat-style ones he’d endured in military camps. No more awkwardly spreading his stubby legs or worrying about falling in! But his relief quickly turned to confusion when he attempted to use it.

Squat toilets, though uncomfortable, at least provided some semblance of stability. The toilet seat, however, proved far trickier. After nearly toppling in while sitting on the edge, Wang Ping tried gripping both sides with his claws, stretching his limbs into a precarious starfish pose. Alas, maintaining this position required too much effort, leaving little room for other… necessary activities.

In desperation, Wang Ping turned his back to the door, crouched precariously on the rim behind the toilet bowl, and clung to the lid to complete his task. He flushed afterward, leaping onto the nearby sink to assess himself in the mirror.

For the first time since his rebirth, Wang Ping faced his reflection clearly. Hmm, not bad—he looked surprisingly fresh after his morning shower, almost dashing. Scratching at the tuft of white fur atop his head, he attempted to style it upright, but it stubbornly flopped back down, resembling a freshly shaved Sakuragi Hanamichi.

Maybe gel would help? Scanning the countertop, he spotted soap, toothbrushes, shampoo, and towels—not unlike what you'd find in any domestic hotel. Spotting the shower gel reignited an itchiness he’d felt earlier. Back at the camp, showers were rudimentary affairs with no soap to speak of. His once-pristine white fur now carried a faint gray tinge.

And speaking of hygiene, it was high time he brushed his teeth. Opening a disposable toothbrush, Wang Ping squeezed every last bit of toothpaste onto it. Holding the oversized brush awkwardly between his paws, he studied his reflection in the mirror. Sharp little teeth and prominent canines gleamed back at him.

Hmm… Should he start with the canines or the molars? After pondering for a moment, he chuckled softly. Who cares? Just brush!

Turning on the faucet, he wet the bristles and began scrubbing. The brush was unwieldy, his paws clumsy, and his arms too short to maneuver effectively. Then inspiration struck—why move the brush when he could move himself?

Positioning the toothbrush upright on the counter, Wang Ping gripped it with all four limbs, lowered his head, and started bobbing up and down, letting friction do the work. First the canines, then the incisors, and finally the molars. Oops, almost gagged! Adjusting slightly, he continued, marveling at his ingenuity. Brushing teeth by moving his head instead—it was genius!

But as he caught sight of his ridiculous posture in the mirror, reality hit hard. For several seconds, the air seemed to freeze.

Smack!

The foamy toothbrush flew across the room, slamming against the bathroom wall.

---

Meanwhile, downtown Karatu, Gu Lang exited the police station alongside Zhang Jianming. With the fine paid, the ordeal was officially over. Relieved, Gu Lang’s mind wandered back to a lingering thought.

“By the way,” Zhang Jianming said, handing him a business card, “once your car is fixed, drop it off and come straight to the embassy. Here’s my number if you need anything.”

Given the media buzz surrounding Gu Lang’s escapades in Tanzania, the embassy had matters to discuss with him. “Got it! Thanks, Brother Zhang!” Gu Lang replied, accepting the card. Hesitating briefly, he added in a low voice, “Hey, do you know if there’s a zoo around here?”

Zhang Jianming blinked. Why did this guy look so guilty asking about a zoo? It wasn’t exactly contraband.

Deep down, Gu Lang felt uneasy about Wang Ping tagging along. Surely zoos were better suited for creatures like him than wandering freely. Yet voicing this concern made him feel oddly culpable.

“There isn’t a formal zoo in Karatu,” Zhang Jianming explained, “since the entire region borders the Ngorongoro Conservation Area—a natural zoo itself. However, there are private animal exhibits.”

“How are the conditions? Is the food good?” Gu Lang pressed.

Zhang Jianming stared blankly. Who asks about food before visiting a zoo? Are you planning to stay overnight? Next thing you’ll inquire about king-sized beds…

“I wouldn’t know,” Zhang Jianming sighed. “You’ll have to check yourself.”

With a report to deliver to the ambassador in Dar es Salaam, Zhang Jianming declined dinner invitations and bid farewell. Gu Lang, needing rest and awaiting his car repairs, stayed behind.

Before leaving, Zhang Jianming reminded Gu Lang to call home and reassure his family. Gu Lang nodded absently, dismissing the suggestion. His grandmother, blissfully unaware of his antics, didn’t watch livestreams anyway. Better wait until he returned to share stories in person.

Decision made, Gu Lang hummed cheerfully as he returned to the hotel. Exhaustion washed over him, but with bandages still wrapped around his body, a hot bath was out of the question. A nap sounded divine, followed by a hearty meal.

Spotting a Western restaurant near the hotel earlier, its colorful sign had left him drooling. Swiping his keycard, Gu Lang tossed his bag aside and collapsed onto the plush mattress.

“Ah, memory foam truly is humanity’s best friend,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Oh right… Boss!”

Remembering Wang Ping, Gu Lang bolted upright and rushed to check the backpack. Empty. Panic set in as he scanned the room, calling out, “Boss? Boss?”

No response. Only silence greeted him—well, almost. Faint snoring drifted from the bathroom.

Pushing the door open, Gu Lang froze. Wang Ping lay partially submerged in the sink, a soggy towel beneath his head. Bubbles frothed everywhere, courtesy of liberally applied shower gel, including a makeshift foam peak atop his head. As Wang Ping snored contentedly, the water rippled gently.

Gu Lang stared, utterly speechless.

“You’ve gone and done everything I wanted to do. Should I thank you?”

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