Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 177
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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 177
Boom, boom, boom! gotta get-get!
Boom, boom, boom! gotta get-get!
The faces of everyone standing in the corridor contort.
However, they cannot approach.
The eerie aura subtly flowing from Johann’s body. The atmosphere suggests they’d get beaten up if they laid a hand on him, making it difficult to take a step forward.
Johann, who had been twisting his lips while sensing their expressions and scents, furrows his brow.
‘Huh?’
There’s something in front of him. It’s shaking its body.
Johann opens his eyes in confusion and momentarily doubts his own vision.
A blonde peer is shaking his body right in front of his nose.
And quite vigorously at that.
To the beat.
Even sweating with his suit jacket off.
‘What kind of lunatic is this?’
Johann stops the playback.
“Ah, sorry. I didn’t know Jack was playing.”
“Huh? You’re stopping already? What a shame-!”
He really is a lunatic. Because he was genuinely disappointed.
“Hehe. Hello? I’m Eugene Victor Norman!”
“Eugene?”
“My father is a huge fan of Eugène Ysaÿe!”
‘He’s like a puppy.’
Johann clicks his tongue as he glances around at the German-accented English assaulting his ears.
‘What a shame.’
If it weren’t for Norman, he was planning to play everything from Usher’s “Yeah” and Robin’s “WE GO” to heavy metal.
“Nice to meet you. Johann Jefferson, 17 years old.”
“I know! I was really moved by ‘Praise Pascal’s Sacrifice’ and ‘WE GO’! Especially the violin part in the intro of ‘WE GO’! The part with the screams of the fallen gave me chills! You were 11 years old then! When I found out you’re the same age as me, I thought, wow, the world really is vast!”
‘He’s similar to Jerry but… different.’
His chattiness reminds him of his roommate from California West Spring Camp, the chatterbox Jerry Goosby who liked classical music more than baseball.
But there’s one crucial difference.
“You think I played that violin part?”
“Conductor Salonen and our master are friends! Even if they weren’t, I would have felt respect for you!”
Just composing such a piece at age 11 already makes him an untouchable genius.
“…Want some chocolate?”
“Gasp! How did you know I love chocolate more than anything in the world!”
Norman is shocked, and when Johann hands him chocolate, he scurries off to someone.
‘He’s a completely harmless type.’
The type who grew up receiving lots of love.
“Ah, really annoying.”
“Good people are worth befriending! Philip, say hello. This is Johann Jefferson. He’s a singer-songwriter who does everything from composing to singing! Johann, this is Philip. He’s a genius who burns with rivalry toward someone like me!”
“Why would someone like you be my rival!”
The black boy gets angry like fire, apparently hit where it hurts. His French pronunciation is impressive.
“Did you already forget that your master and our master are friends?”
“…Damn old man!”
‘This one’s the dishonest type.’
But somehow, they suit each other quite well.
“Ha. I’m Philip Dupon. 18 years old. I listened to your Spring Voices Waltz well. You were great before, but now you’ve improved incomparably.”
“Before?”
“That youth baseball spring camp, wasn’t it?”
“Ah…”
He remembers.
The day he absorbed and read Josef II because of Jerry Goosby’s terrible performance of Johann Strauss II’s piece. What he played that day was the Spring Voices Waltz.
“You remember that? That was 6 years ago?”
“At the time, there were few young violinists who didn’t imitate you. My brother also followed your interpretation.”
And shortly after, a waltz wind, or rather Strauss wind, blew through the classical world, making it even more unforgettable.
“Oh…”
He didn’t know.
“What! Why did only you see it!”
“What do you want me to do about you being too stupid to notice? And we didn’t know each other back then.”
“Ah, was that so? Hehe. I should look it up after the preliminaries.”
“You’re confident about passing the preliminaries?”
Flinch!
“But… I’m really, really lucky, so there’s no way I’ll fail?”
“…Annoying brat.”
“Coward. Ah, Johann. Is this your first competition?”
“Yeah. First time.”
“Oh, then I’ll tell you what you need to prepare! First, you need to tune your violin! There’s no time to tune once you’re on stage!”
“That’s already…”
“You tune while casually playing any piece!”
Johann closes his mouth and follows Norman’s gaze as he surveys the surroundings.
‘He wasn’t the harmless type after all.’
He has quite some backbone.
“Hmm. Should I?”
He was already feeling regretful that his venting session, which wasn’t really venting, had been interrupted.
“Any piece you want to hear?”
“WE GO! The full violin part version!”
“Haha! Okay.”
Of all things, he wants the screams of the fallen.
Johann takes out Hope from the two violins he brought and places it on his shoulder.
Because this violin solo needs to be sorrowful yet sharp.
Because it needs to be desperate while being suppressed inside.
Hope, which can produce various sounds, is perfect rather than Maria, which is strong like a cannon.
Johann takes a deep breath, slowly closing and opening his eyes, then draws his bow down.
Kiiing!
The scream of something, someone’s cry, the screams of the fallen pierced, gouged, and tore apart the hearts of all participants in the corridor, leaving marks on their souls.
As if saying this will be your appearance shortly.
* * *
Jiing!
The sound echoing from the stage reaches the end of the audience seats.
It burrows into the audience’s ears, focusing them on the performer on stage.
Sweat glistening under the lights.
A brow filled with anguish.
Eyes wavering behind closed lids.
Trembling lips, displeased with something.
-That’s enough.
Thud!
A young man in his twenties opens his eyes wide in panic.
His heart sinks.
“W-wait a moment! Ah, there’s still time…!”
No. He can’t end it like this.
The piece he prepared is just reaching its finale.
‘But why! I’ve been preparing for years!’
He looked desperately at the seven judges sitting in a row in the center of the audience seats, but…
-We will deliver the results later.
The judges’ emotionless eyes rob him of his will to protest.
“…Yes.”
It’s over. Years of preparation.
‘That bastard! It’s all because of those bastards!’
A performance that left a gloomy afterimage that could never be shaken off.
Biting his lips tightly, he squeezed his eyes shut to hold back tears as he left the stage, and the judges clicked their tongues.
“That friend wasn’t at that level of skill…”
“The demo tape had a more powerful feeling…”
That’s why it’s regrettable. Because they know he could do better if given another chance.
But that’s not possible.
In the third preliminary round, each person can only be given 2 minutes at most. Including the time to get on stage, prepare, and exit, it’s 4 minutes per person at most.
It may seem too cruel, but there are 300 people who made it to the third preliminary round. Even giving just 4 minutes per person equals 1200 minutes. A full 20 hours.
That’s why the third preliminary round is held over 5 days, and 60 finalists are selected from here.
“Tsk. They should manage their condition better.”
They don’t know what happened before arriving in Brussels, after arriving, or backstage.
He might have fought with someone, or something bad might have happened. So his mental state might have been shaken.
And all of that ultimately gets categorized under the term “failure to manage condition.”
“That’s also part of one’s skill.”
Competitions are gateways.
A gateway to the professional stage where they face audiences who pay large sums to listen to classical music.
A gateway to reach higher stages.
Would the excuse of “failure to manage condition” work on such professional stages too?
Managing one’s condition is entirely part of one’s skill. They couldn’t consider every individual circumstance.
“You’re still cold-hearted, Jung.”
“Haha.”
That’s right.
Jeong Gyeong-hun had come to Brussels as one of the judges for this Queen Elisabeth Competition.
“The next participant is coming up.”
“The name is…”
“Hello! I’m Eugene Victor Norman! Please take care of me!”
The judges chuckle softly.
A greeting as lively and cute as his appearance. Even his posture of placing the violin under his chin exudes charm and composure.
Jeong Gyeong-hun speaks into the microphone.
-Begin when you’re ready.
“Yes!”
The bow moves simultaneously with his response.
Zing zing! Zi zi zi, zing! Zi zing!
‘Violin sonata?’
Beethoven’s Violin Sonata No. 1, 3rd movement.
A lively piece with a playful feel, giving cheerfulness with its bouncing rhythm.
How fitting that even his choice of piece resembles himself.
Despite being arranged for violin solo, the bouncing notes made the judges’ lips curl upward.
-That’s enough.
“Aw! The part ahead is even more interesting! Could you listen for just 3 more minutes?”
Hahahaha!
Hohohoho!
The audience also bursts into laughter at Norman’s cheekiness.
The performance time for the 3rd movement is about 5 minutes. Adding 3 minutes would almost finish the entire 3rd movement.
-No. We will deliver the results later.
“Yes! I’ll look forward to it!”
Laughter erupts once more at his figure waving both hands energetically as he goes down.
“The competition hunter is now targeting the Queen.”
Eugene Victor Norman, who won the Paganini International Violin Competition 3 years ago and has achieved excellent results in various violin competitions since, appearing only in competitions as if competition participation were his sole purpose, engaging in no other activities.
“It would be more accurate to say the Queen’s turn has finally come.”
“Probably Tchaikovsky will be next.”
As competition hunters typically do, he’ll attend competitions among the big three that have violin competition categories and aim for victory.
And only after that will he begin his full-scale activities.
“Isn’t it quite exciting?”
“Yes. I look forward to that time.”
The day when they’ll hear Norman’s performance as a true professional.
“Next participant number… Hmm.”
The judges’ expressions harden as they confirm the person coming on stage.
Johann Jefferson with his tall stature and outstanding good looks.
A popular singer who dared to challenge sacred classical music.
Their hearts instantly filled with displeasure, but unaware of this, Johann, who was climbing onto the stage, spots Jeong Gyeong-hun and opens his eyes wide.
‘Ah, so that’s why he’s in Brussels…’
But that’s only momentary. Johann, who doesn’t even exchange a brief eye greeting, scans the audience seats.
‘Interesting.’
Even the audience’s gazes contain the will to assess their opponent.
Looks that seem to say “let’s see how well you can do.” Blatant stares like those one might make when the next dish arrives after eating excellent food.
He seems to understand why they’re making such expressions.
Johann bows his head slightly.
“I’m Johann Jefferson. I’ll begin.”
‘He had the skill to be that lively.’
Norman’s performance just now.
It was a beautiful performance that clearly demonstrated why Esa-Pekka Salonen said he couldn’t guarantee victory – showing he was indeed a genius.
Norman was one of those geniuses, one of the renowned talents from around the world participating in the Queen Elisabeth Competition.
‘I can’t lose.’
Johann twists his lips.
Josef II says the same.
‘This is the stage you wanted, Josef Eduard Anna Strauss.’
This is the stage that the unfortunate genius Josef II had always wanted – to perform his uncles’ and father’s pieces on a big stage, hoping they would conduct for him, but having to hide his talent.
‘You wanted to perform this piece first when you stood on this stage.’
Though he’s not here, this is the piece he practiced countless times hoping he would listen.
The piece he hoped he would listen to on his birthday someday.
Johann suppresses the trembling Josef II and draws his bow.
Zing! Zing zing! Giing!
‘Th-this is?’
‘Joy and Sorrow of Birth?’
An unpublished piece called “Joy and Sorrow of Birth,” created by Eduard Strauss, the fourth son of Strauss and an authority on dance music, who rejoiced at the birth of his sons but also grieved that he couldn’t let his children follow in his footsteps.
Along with Johann Strauss II’s unpublished piece “Do Not Weep,” this piece had become like a gateway for emotional players, testing the skills of those with emotional depth. The judges’ eyes transformed at this perfect performance.
It was shock.
* * *
“Wow….”
Behind the stage.
Norman’s eyes sparkle at the contrasting emotions flowing through the stairs.
A melody that rejoices while grieving, exults while despairing.
‘I’m envious.’
Of having a father who can convey such emotions like this.
He feels jealous of Eduard’s two children.
And….
“I want to see…!”
He wants to perform together.
He wants to rush onto the stage right now and join that performance.
He wants to shout not to rejoice alone but to rejoice together.
“Wouldn’t that be rude?”
“To Eduard? Or to that Jefferson?”
“What are you talking about, Philip. Obviously to Mr. Eduard.”
Someone who can perform like this wouldn’t refuse ensemble performance with others.
“Of course, wimp Philip would refuse though!”
Smack!
“Why did you hit me!”
“Because you did something wrong.”
Philip snorts and perks up his ears while closing his eyes.
However, his fists are already clenched tight.
Fists trembling with frustration.
Norman laughs hehehe.
“Why? Frustrated? Because he’s perfectly executing what you can’t perform properly?”
“I, I already completed this piece 5 years ago!”
“But you still can’t follow that emotion.”
…Crack!
“Don’t get angry. Our teacher said it’s natural for people our age.”
He said it’s a parent’s emotion that can’t be expressed without directly experiencing the birth and growth of one’s own child.
Because watching a sibling being born is fundamentally different from one’s own child being born.
Unless you become a parent, you can never express it perfectly without witnessing countless births. He said it would be strange if you could express it.
No matter how much of a genius you are.
“But that Jefferson expressed it.”
So perfectly.
It feels deeper than the joy and sorrow of birth that was uploaded to SoundCloud 6 years ago.
Both the joy of birth and growth.
And the sorrow of conflict.
The melody gives goosebumps as if this is what the true form of birth’s joy and sorrow looks like.
‘How on earth?’
He’s also curious about that violin.
A violin making impossible sounds, as if it has trapped the sounds of all violins in the world. That violin played a big part in being able to express the joy and sorrow of birth so perfectly.
“I’m curious about that too.”
Norman narrows his eyes.
What kind of life must one live to make such expression possible at age 17?
Where did he get that violin?
“So let’s ask! At the Music Chapel!”
The Music Chapel where they’ll stay together in one space for 8 days.
Eating together, rolling around on the same bed and asking about everything.
“It’s rude to ask such things when meeting for the first time!”
“What about the finals? You have to pass the finals first before you can go to the Music Chapel or not, you fool.”
“Hey. With that skill level, there’s no way he won’t make it to the finals.”
“I’m talking about you, you.”
“Ah. Me…?”
Norman rolls his eyes around.
“B, but they’re selecting 60 people, so won’t they pick me too?”
Having seen Johann’s skill, Norman lost confidence and stamped his feet.
Waaah!
Clap clap clap clap clap clap!
“It must be over!”
“Phew. Thank you.”
‘Are you satisfied?’
Josef II wavers at the pouring praise.
Rejoicing and grieving, thrilling and despairing.
Because there’s no longer family, no father to share these emotions with.
However, Johann is satisfied.
It’s a performance completed together with talent that has grown through many experiences and countless classical pieces.
A piece performed perfectly while suppressing Josef II who tried to burst out from overwhelming emotions, with Josef II filling in the lacking sensitivity.
A piece that Josef II finally understood perfectly when he became a father of a child. So he wanted to play it for Father Eduard, but couldn’t because he always wanted to remain a good son.
He can’t help but be satisfied.
Even with this praise that’s always good to see and hear.
‘It would have been nice if Larry had been my real father. Then I could have played this piece for him.’
That’s just a bit regrettable.
Thud thud!
“Hm?”
“Wow!”
Clap clap clap clap clap clap!
“I really enjoyed listening! I almost cried!”
“For someone who says that….”
There’s not a drop of moisture around his eyes.
“Hey. That’s just a figure of speech. I bet other people think the same as me?”
At Norman’s words, when he turns his head, the participants’ expressions are stiffly frozen.
The next participant’s complexion is pale white. A 20s woman moving her steps reluctantly like a beast being dragged to a slaughterhouse.
Johann looks at Norman while turning his gaze away but keeping his ears toward the stage.
Him staring intently at his violin, Desiderio.
“You can’t touch it.”
“Why!”
‘Because people with your personality are usually careless.’
It’s an old violin made almost 400 years ago. If you drop it, it might crack with a snap.
“Just once, can’t I play it just once?”
“No. Give up.”
“Waaah. Philip! Johann is bullying me!”
“…I’m sorry.”
“You must have had a hard time?”
Philip suddenly chokes up and presses his lips tightly together.
Clap clap clap clap clap!
“It’s over! Philip, you’re next, right?”
“Yeah.”
Soon after, a woman in her 20s came down the stairs with teary eyes, glaring at Johann as if she wanted to kill him before disappearing, and Philip stepped onto the stairs.
“I’ll be back.”
“Good luck!”
Johann watched Philip going up to the stage and his eyes grew serious.
‘Usually there’s a genius next to a genius.’
Just like how the Emilys are by his side.
Johann opened his ears wide, and soon a sharp melody like an ice pick pierced through his ears.
So painfully.
As if his heart would be torn apart.
Johann chuckled softly.
“He really is a genius.”
Emotion and technique that could never be expressed at that age.
“Hehe. Right? Unlike me, Philip’s skills are really incredible!”
And that’s not even his full ability.
“You’re saying you have no skills?”
Is she being serious?
“Come on. Someone like me is common. I’m just lucky. Oh, but what are you having for lunch?”
“Hamburger.”
“Huh?”
French fries passed the test.
What remained was the hamburger.
* * *
Three days later in the evening, in front of the laptop at the dormitory.
“Shall we check then?”
Esa-Pekka Salonen and Rick Bottom swallow their saliva.
Johann also takes a long breath and presses enter.
Click!
“…Uhaha! Didn’t I tell you I’d pass easily?”
“Well done, Johann.”
‘Oh… So this is what this feeling is.’
This feeling of advancing to the next stage in such a competition.
It’s similar to the feeling when his song charts on Billboard and gradually climbs up the rankings.
‘Thrilling.’
His desire grows stronger.
He was already aiming for victory, but now he wants to win even more.
Johann’s eyes began to sparkle.
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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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