Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 17
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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 17
The Volunteer Club students who had gathered in front of the High School Campus split into several groups and scattered throughout LA.
“The place our team is going to today is the Homeless Rehabilitation Center.”
Not simply a shelter concept that provides food and sleeping quarters to the homeless, but a Homeless Rehabilitation Center established with the purpose of helping homeless people reintegrate into society.
Johann pokes Flash in the ribs as he wrinkles his nose and speaks up.
“What kind of help do you provide?”
“Good question!”
The first things the Homeless Rehabilitation Center teaches are cleanliness and self-discipline. They must wash, clean, and do laundry at designated times.
Next comes job training.
“From simple serving to professional job training like baking and pastry making.”
For those who haven’t graduated high school, they also provide opportunities to take the GED (General Educational Development) test.
The same goes for the SAT college entrance exam.
“We conduct classes for that too.”
“Is there something for us to do?”
From what he’s heard, these are all things each homeless person must do themselves or tasks requiring professional knowledge.
“Hehe. You’ll know when we get there.”
Johann furrows his brow at the meaningful smile, then looks around the bus as the 11th Grader leaves.
‘So this is a School Bus.’
A bus he’d only seen through Reading.
The Yellow Bus that makes cars behind and across from it stop when it pulls over to the shoulder.
“Johann, Joseph told me this bus would be fine even if it crashed into a tank.”
This bus, designed solely for passenger safety, supposedly wouldn’t even get scratched unless it collided with something like a tank.
“No way.”
‘Is that really true?’
He was curious.
Meanwhile, the bus crossed through downtown LA and arrived at the Homeless Rehabilitation Center.
* * *
“We’re from Fairmont School.”
“Oh!”
Fairmont School had been consistently coming to volunteer since this Homeless Rehabilitation Center was built.
True to being a prestigious private school representing California, not a single person had caused trouble, so the Center Official’s face brightened.
‘We were already short-handed!’
This was because they had gone to support and protect the big shots who visited the Center today.
“Everyone, welcome! Follow me this way!”
“You all know where and how to work, right? Let’s spread out!”
“Yes!”
“You two follow me.”
The 11th Grader takes Johann and Flash into the Center.
As they open the door and enter, the cool air of the lobby greets them.
‘It’s bustling. Why?’
Everyone passing through the lobby seems tense.
‘Even though this is their workplace and home…’
“The Center is big, right?”
“…Are all Homeless Rehabilitation Centers this big?”
“Not at all!”
The homeless problem is pointed out as an issue throughout California including LA, but rarely receives support.
“In the midst of that, a Social Welfare Foundation called Giving, headquartered in New York, built this Center!”
It can accommodate up to 1,500 people.
Even considering all of LA, no, all of California, it’s among the top five in scale.
“Giving?”
“It hasn’t been established for long, but it’s a foundation that spread nationwide in an instant based on capital exceeding 1.5 billion dollars.”
It’s currently a foundation with overwhelming support from veterans, police, firefighters, and others, and it’s also a place he definitely wants to join after graduating college.
“I see.”
‘Don’t yawn.’
Johann pokes Flash in the ribs again.
“We’re here! This is where you’ll be volunteering today!”
‘No wonder we came down to the Basement…’
Laundry piled up like mountains.
Even Johann had to wrinkle his face at the foul smell that stung his nose.
“Johann, I think my nose is rotting.”
“Bear with it.”
What they had to do was simple.
Among the Laundry pouring down through pipes connected to the top floor, they had to sort out laundry that was stained with filth or smelled foul as if stained, and bring it to the Case Worker.
Then the homeless people assigned for today, along with volunteers and Staff Members, would search through pockets before pushing them into the Washing Machines that filled the space.
“This is hard.”
“Wouldn’t it be less hard if you took off that Bag?”
“That won’t do.”
Flash guards his Bag as if it contains treasure, then lifts laundry bigger than his own body and puts it in the Cart as if his previous complaint was just whining.
‘It doesn’t seem to be food.’
His sense of smell, which had become more sensitive than ordinary people thanks to the influence of ‘Wolf Howling at the Moon’ and ‘Survival Expert, Johann Jaeger’, said it wasn’t.
‘But that seems to make it more painful!’
It was punishment for his wrongdoing. He had no choice but to endure it.
“Hehe. Is it hard?”
“Aren’t you going to work?”
“Don’t worry! I’m working too!”
The work of surveillance and recording.
The Photos the 11th Grader was taking with his Smartphone were scheduled to be featured in next week’s Fairmont School School Newspaper.
Of course, that wasn’t all he was doing.
He was moving much more laundry than Johann and Flash.
“School Newspaper?”
“It’s a newspaper that reports on various events happening within the school. But that’s not very interesting…”
“Kids like you wouldn’t understand the content anyway.”
Flinch!
Flash, sensing inexplicable hostility, rolls his eyes.
Johann narrows his brow.
“Wouldn’t it be a real newspaper if it could make even kids like Flash interested?”
Now it’s the 11th Grader’s eyes that waver.
From surprise to betrayal.
“…It’s time. Let’s go eat.”
As the 11th Grader turns around coldly, Flash feels wronged.
“What did I do wrong?”
Though he had whined wanting to get closer to Johann, he had never been lazy or interfered. That’s why he felt wronged.
“Nothing at all.”
If there was any fault, it was just that he was a bit lacking in social awareness.
“Then we’ll go have our meal and come back.”
“Hehe. Yes. Eat well.”
Johann and Flash quickly followed behind the 11th grader, and those left behind looked fondly at Johann and Flash who had worked without complaint.
* * *
The open space behind the center where warm winter sunlight poured down.
Johann touches his tongue tip.
The taste of salad generously sprinkled with tangy dressing sauce, chicken legs marinated in sweet and spicy sauce, rich and salty macaroni cheese, and onion soup comes alive again on his tongue tip.
“I told you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“B-but…”
In that short time, whatever the 11th grader had said and spread around, even other upperclassmen in the cafeteria were sending sharp glances. Even toward Johann.
Flash couldn’t help but feel more intimidated, thinking it was his fault.
“I’ll say it again, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Flash had simply been oblivious and expressed his opinion in this country where freedom of expression exists. Even if it was unpleasant, they should either accept it and improve or ignore it, not do such petty things to much younger underclassmen.
“By the time you enter high school anyway, they’ll all have graduated and be gone.”
“…Why are you being so nice to me?”
“It’s annoying.”
The way they rashly judge others with their limited perspective.
“Johann!”
Flash, with tears welling up, suddenly stands up.
“Let’s play catch ball!”
“Suddenly?”
‘I’ve decided!’
After experiencing today’s events, he could clearly see. That he had been acting wrong all this time.
‘I’ll fix it!’
He would start by apologizing to the children he had bullied.
That’s why he wanted to become friends with such an amazing Johann.
“I wondered why you treasured that bag so much…”
Inside the bag were two baseball gloves and a baseball.
“D-don’t you want to? If you don’t want to, we can do it next time!”
“…No, let’s do it.”
‘This must be his way of expressing that he wants to become closer.’
Flash’s own way of expressing himself.
He had been developing a deep curiosity about baseball anyway.
“Will you teach me baseball?”
“…Yes!”
Thwack!
‘As expected!’
Even though he threw from close distance with sloppy form, his palm felt heavy.
‘He’s got natural shoulders!’
“Johann! When you throw the ball, try pulling your gloved hand toward your body as you throw!”
“Like this?”
Thwack-!
“Nice! This time, think of fixing your right elbow at one point!”
Thwack!
“Good!”
‘That wasn’t good though.’
Unlike when he threw just before, the ball flew in a strange direction.
But…
‘This is fun.’
Thanks partly to Flash’s encouragement, but the simple act of the ball going into the glove and throwing warms up his body.
His heart calls out to throw faster and more accurately.
Competitive spirit. That gets stimulated.
“Hehe. It’s fun when you move your body, right?”
“…I’ll admit that too.”
The heat rising from his body is also fun.
A different kind of body temperature rise than when he trained for survival.
The corners of his lips twitch.
“Hehehe.”
Flash laughs, saying things are going according to plan, and steps back four paces.
“This time, try lifting your left knee a little, then lowering it forward as you throw.”
“Like this?”
Thwack!
“Think of placing your left foot in front of your body’s center line! Ah!”
A ball that doesn’t reach even though he jumped.
“Sorry!”
“It’s okay!”
Johann and Flash move to chase the ball, then stop.
‘Ugh!’
“Oh, sorry about that.”
A middle-aged man in his 50s sitting in a wheelchair, who had been fondly watching their catch ball, hurriedly puts out his cigarette.
Johann shakes his head saying it’s fine, picks up the ball, and heads toward Flash.
“Found the ball… Flash?”
For some reason, Flash can’t take his eyes off the middle-aged man.
His lips, with even his pupils shaking, open stammering.
“A-Andy Clark…?”
Flinch!
The surprised middle-aged man looks at Flash.
“You know me?”
“O-of course I know you!”
Andy Clark, who was the Dodgers’ catcher in 1988.
“My father said he was amazed when he went to see a Dodgers game for the first time that day!”
That laser-like throw that blocked what anyone would consider a successful base steal.
That day, Flash’s father became a Dodgers fan because of his amazing play, and to commemorate it, his grandfather bought him the video of that day’s game.
“I dreamed of becoming a catcher after watching that video! My goodness! To see you here!”
“Oh…”
The middle-aged man’s face contorts.
1988 was when he had just entered Major League and when his career shone brightest. Those glorious days he could never forget.
“You remember a has-been who couldn’t even start a few times and got demoted to Double-A…?”
“A has-been? You’re my role model!”
This isn’t the time for this. He needs to get an autograph.
But since there’s no way he’d have autograph paper, Flash’s face becomes crestfallen.
“If it’s not too much trouble, could you take a photo with my friend?”
“Johann!”
The middle-aged man’s pupils shake.
“Hehe. If you don’t mind someone like me who’s an alcoholic…”
“My goodness! My goodness! J-Johann, w-with this…”
Flash, whose face became crestfallen in a different sense than before, hurriedly stood beside the middle-aged man, and Johann, stepping back a few paces, raises his mobile phone.
‘This must be a bookmark-like moment for Flash.’
The experience of ‘The One Who Became a Star’, who had to target objects secretly and precisely, moves Johann’s arm.
Click! Click! Click!
“That’s good. Here, look.”
“Oh, God.”
Finally, tears well up in Flash’s eyes.
“L-look here. I took a photo with you!”
The middle-aged man looks at Flash, who is genuinely moved rather than just looking at his mobile phone.
How long has it been since this happened? His body trembles at the feeling of having returned to the past.
“Ahem. Thank you. Well…”
Johann sees through his psychology as he starts to speak then stops.
“This might be another presumptuous request, but could you take a look at my friend’s form?”
At Johann’s words, Flash plops down heavily.
The middle-aged man, who had been surprised that Johann noticed his feelings, looks at Flash like that.
“…Would it be alright for me to do that?”
“P-please!”
Flash quickly gets up and crouches down, extending his arm with the baseball glove.
“Oh, did you study me?”
He sees his past self in the angle of both knees and the extended arm.
His eyes suddenly grow hot as he moves his lips.
“But that form doesn’t suit you. Your legs…”
“Like this?”
“Yes. Like that. You have good sense.”
“Hehehe.”
“The position might feel awkward and uncomfortable now, but when you catch the ball…”
The middle-aged man closes his mouth while speaking. Because there’s no one to throw the ball.
“I’ll do it.”
“Oh, would you? You don’t need to throw it hard.”
Flash also looks at him with earnest eyes as if asking for a favor.
Johann nods and moves away from them before stopping.
‘Flash.’
Even though the start wasn’t good, he’s a kid who approaches with sincerity.
A kid he could call a friend if he continues to show this kind of attitude.
‘Then I should do this properly.’
He didn’t want to ruin this moment that came to Flash by throwing the ball to the wrong place like before.
Johann closes his eyes.
Then the vast universe unfolds.
“Search. Major League pitcher.”
Rumble!
Johann looks at the tens of thousands of orbs flying toward him with calm eyes.
Gasp!
Flash and the middle-aged man, who had been excited, close their mouths and look at Johann.
Suddenly, heavy air presses down on the clearing.
They can’t take their eyes off Johann, who shows his back as he moves further away and takes off his coat.
“Jo-Johann! You don’t need to go further!”
“No, this distance is just right.”
60 feet 6 inches (18.44m). The distance between the mound and home plate.
‘It’s close, but…’
The tightly stretched shoulders, elbows, wrists, and finger ligaments and muscles tell him.
That it’s a distance where control is sufficiently possible.
“I’m throwing!”
Since there’s no sign anyway, a four-seam fastball.
“Huuu!”
Johann kicks his leg up high, then steps forward greatly while twisting his ankle.
Next, he twists his waist and torso.
Then his arm naturally follows and the other arm is pulled back.
His fingers grip like pressing seams and release the ball.
‘I got it!’
The moment the ball leaves his fingers, he realizes. This one was properly gripped.
Flash’s expression, which changes instantly as he quickly moves his glove, tells him so.
The ball that instantly closed the 60 feet 6 inches slams into Flash’s glove.
Thwack!
“Ahhh!”
Flash involuntarily screams from the impact that feels like it would shatter the back of his hand, but the middle-aged man grips the armrest of his wheelchair in shock.
‘My God. That, that was…’
From the kicking motion that lifted his knee high as if to kick the sky, to the unique-angled sidearm that flowed like water, and the fastball that flew in like a living snake, it reminds him of someone.
It awakens old nostalgia.
“Rack…”
Around the same time as the middle-aged man, Dennis Eckersley, the Oakland Athletics’ closer who debuted like a comet in Major League and left tremendous marks with his distinctive form and living fastball.
The first specialized closer. The magician of one inning.
His image was overlapping.
* * *
“It’s time to leave, Branch Manager.”
The H&M US West Coast Branch Manager looks at his secretary.
“What about Zara?”
“I’m sorry.”
“…Tsk. I’ll go smoke a cigarette.”
‘What a waste of time.’
This volunteer activity was planned to achieve greater sales growth after sales increased thanks to Johann.
After completing one hour of volunteer work at a homeless shelter in San Francisco early in the morning, he moved to LA, where he met the ZARA US West Coast Branch Manager like a twist of fate.
ZARA, which has almost the same fashion motto as H&M.
If it weren’t for that damn pride, he would have already moved to another location.
“Phew. Hmm?”
The H&M US West Coast Branch Manager, who came out to the clearing behind the building where trucks carrying food ingredients and donated supplies come and go, frowns while lighting his cigarette.
“Are you even tailing me now?”
“I don’t know who should be saying that.”
The ZARA US West Coast Branch Manager clicks his tongue and twists his lips.
“I heard you barely survived thanks to some kid this time?”
“Your sales plummeted.”
H&M at least made aggressive investments to attempt to boost sales and achieved visible results, but ZARA instead restructured employees and others to block money from flowing out.
But this earned public hatred, causing sales to decline, and as a last resort, they ended up doing volunteer activities like this.
‘This bastard…’
‘What?’
Having planted ears in each other’s companies, they glare at each other before turning their heads away.
Thud! Thud!
“…Oh!”
A familiar sound echoing through the clearing. The lips of the branch managers who had turned their heads twitch.
‘Good timing… Huh? That kid is?’
The model who brought him to this place, Johann.
‘He has loyalty.’
All the clothes he’s wearing are H&M garments that he himself had photographed. A smile naturally forms.
‘…I don’t like it.’
If it weren’t for the person next to him, he would have rushed over immediately, but not being able to do so is what he doesn’t like.
The Branch Manager slyly glances at the ZARA US West Coast Branch Manager.
‘Phew. He doesn’t seem to know the real thing.’
Johann, who absolutely must not be stolen by another brand, especially ZARA.
But his guess was wrong.
‘That kid….’
The ZARA US West Coast Branch Manager’s eyes narrow.
‘There’s nothing special about him?’
His appearance is outstanding for an Asian, but excluding that, everything is ordinary. Even after observing for a long time, he can’t find anything special.
‘Was it just luck?’
That luck is the most frightening thing, but it seems like that Johann kid has already used up all his luck.
If not, he would be in New York by now instead of LA.
‘I should head back.’
Staying here any longer was a waste of time.
It was just as he was about to turn around.
Whoooosh!
A piercing sound cutting through the clearing.
No, before that, the dynamic body movement starting from the unique posture of the windup. The wild and rough raw feeling pose that evokes old nostalgia catches his eyes and feet.
He drops the cigarette he was trying to put in the case.
“My God.”
What did he just see.
Both branch managers simultaneously step forward.
Hesitation!
“…Not going?”
“Who’s to say?”
They bared their teeth at each other.
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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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