Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 178
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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 178
Finally decided 60 people!
Competition hunter, sunny Eugene Victor Norman!
Ice blade, Philip Dupon!
Discussing elegance, Siyoung Lee!
Wolf knight Johann Jefferson, proudly advances to the main competition list!
Who will head to the Music Chapel!
Korea advancing again this year!
Crying and laughing main competition first round! Who’s the winner?
Waltz again? No, Strauss!
Anne-Sophie Mutter felt the Strauss of that era.
Kyung-hwa Jeong, this year’s queen has high standards.
“Ugh.”
A spacious conference room.
The judges including Jeong Gyeong-hun let out groaning sounds. Because the time that always becomes painful has come.
“You could feel that everyone had sharpened their knives for those performances.”
“Yes. Some felt like Trifonov.”
The mad Daniil Trifonov, famous as a competition hunter.
“Oh come on. Not to that extent. How could they compare to that guy…”
“Ahem. Sorry. I spoke nonsense.”
How many performers had fled in terror because of Daniil Trifonov who played as if possessed by a demon.
Daniil Trifonov was a human who unleashed insane madness without restraint, making you wonder when he might rush at you and stab you with a knife if you watched him nearby.
“Jung must be happy. Having such juniors keep appearing.”
Among the 60 people who made it to the main competition first round, as many as 12 were Korean, and even 5 of those who passed the first round and advanced to the second round.
5 out of 28 people who advanced to the main competition second round. This was an amazing figure, and two of the participants who made the judges feel madness were also Korean.
It’s not just this time.
Korea produced performers who advanced to the main competition or finals every year, enough to be called regular customers. Not only at Queen Elisabeth but also at the other three major competitions.
From that small country where classical music history isn’t very deep.
“Probably… because they’re desperate.”
“Desperate?”
“South Korea is a country under armistice.”
“…Ah, right. That’s true?”
Jeong Gyeong-hun nods with a bitter smile.
“The military is that kind of place. Dangerous where you never know when you might get hurt.”
If you hurt even a finger, the life you’ve dedicated to violin for over ten years would be over.
It must be an expression of desperation that such a thing cannot happen.
“Female violinists have to compete with such desperate male juniors…”
“Haha. Their skills have no choice but to improve.”
There are countless competitions in the world, but competitions that receive recognition and spotlight are extremely limited.
To compete with men armed with desperation and receive the spotlight, female performers also have no choice but to become desperate.
“Haha. So that’s why Asian students are advancing like this.”
Looking at the list of main competition second round advancers, you can see many Chinese and Japanese as well. In terms of ratio, Asians and Westerners are almost 50-50. Even among the judges, the proportion of Asians is high.
Also, the male-female ratio is 30 to 70 with women dominant. I don’t know when competitions that were European festivals and almost exclusively for men became like this.
“Are you being racist right now?”
At the sharp words of the Japanese female judge, the white man who was muttering raises both arms saying “oh hot.”
“Haha. Of course not. I just spoke some nonsense out of regret.”
“Now, now, let’s calm down. We didn’t gather here to fight.”
The expressions of the judges who were exchanging such harsh small talk become heavy again.
“Phew. Anyone we send to the Music Chapel would be without objection…”
“Let’s start by removing the certain ones.”
“Then… we should remove these friends first.”
Profiles of Eugene Victor Norman, Philip Dupon, Siyoung Lee and others are stacked beside the judges.
Eight performers decided in an instant.
Four seats remain. But soon three of these remaining seats are filled.
The judges who were carefully flipping through profiles and recalling today’s performances to choose the last participant discover one person’s profile and frown.
“This friend is…”
“Hmm…”
Johann Jefferson.
A popular singer who dared to challenge classical music.
A ruffian who trampled on sacred ground.
Those who were moving their lips let out sighs.
“…Honestly, it was very unexpected.”
Even though they had already confirmed Johann’s skills through the first and second preliminary demo tapes, they weren’t acknowledging it. Because tapes are things you can attempt countless times and edit.
That’s why there was a third preliminary round where you couldn’t attempt again or edit.
Moreover, Johann who only played waltzes in both preliminary rounds 1 and 2. Even the Joy and Sorrow of Birth he played in the third round.
Waltz one-trick.
It wouldn’t matter for a professional, but it could be fatal in competitions where you have to play various genres.
But it wasn’t.
Johann who played Josef Strauss’s Women’s Hearts Polka in the main competition first round, and Johann Strauss II’s Egyptian March – violin solo arrangement in the second round.
It wasn’t waltz one-trick but Strauss one-trick.
“He even played the designated piece magnificently.”
“Phew. At this point, we have no choice but to acknowledge.”
That he’s not just a simple popular singer.
That he wasn’t able to harmonize hymns and rock for nothing.
The judges who nodded at each other raise their stamps.
Thump!
Pass.
Jeong Gyeong-hun smiled inwardly.
‘So it ended up like this.’
What kind of performance will he show at the Music Chapel.
He was very much looking forward to it.
* * *
Outskirts of Waterloo, a small city south of Brussels.
A car stops on a small road near the highway.
“Mmph!”
The fragrance emitted by the tall trees lined up on both sides of the road soothes his slightly stiff back.
‘Is that the place?’
In the distance, the edge of a building is visible between the trees.
“So I’ve come to this place.”
Esa-Pekka Salonen who got out of the car looks at the Music Chapel with bright eyes.
The Music Chapel castle opened only to Queen Elisabeth Competition finalists.
What does it look like. What kind of structure is the interior.
But from here only participants are allowed entry, so he tries to soothe the rising regret.
“Probably…”
Johann looks at Esa-Pekka Salonen who starts to speak.
“It will be worse than you expected.”
The moment you enter the Music Chapel, participants receive the sheet music for the designated piece chosen by the organizers.
You can’t know what piece it will be until you enter the Music Chapel, and you only have 8 days to practice it.
Moreover, you must also practice the free piece you prepared within that time, and both this free piece and the designated piece are problematic.
Unlike the preliminaries and semifinals, the final stage only accepts orchestral concertos.
Unlike the first and second rounds of the semifinals that gave a week of preparation time and accepted solo pieces, you must complete two orchestral concertos in 8 days.
“But there are only two accompanying orchestras.”
The Belgian National Orchestra’s A and B teams.
“…You can probably rehearse together at most 4 times.”
“I heard there was someone who rehearsed together five times though…”
Conversely, I’ve also heard of someone who only rehearsed together twice.
“And you can’t bring in any electronic devices.”
The only electronic devices allowed into the Music Chapel are the broadcasting station cameras and surveillance cameras prepared by the organizers, and various household appliances.
Communication with the outside world is cut off.
“Ah, that doesn’t matter though…”
When bored, you can browse the library. Though it’s questionable whether there will even be time to be bored.
“It really is the worst, just like you said, Teacher.”
You must complete two concertos in 8 days, and they must be superior to other performers’ pieces.
Even drawing out all your capabilities, it won’t be easy.
‘They’re telling us not to even sleep.’
Can you get a high score just by playing the designated piece as received?
No.
Since everyone has their own style, you must arrange it even slightly to incorporate your own emotions into the piece.
You must make the piece your own.
But that’s not enough – you must also coordinate with the orchestra, and you only have 8 days.
“The key will be determining the direction of the arrangement as quickly as possible.”
“Exactly.”
Only then can you practice even one more time.
“Also, you must handle your instrument carefully.”
If it breaks, you can’t be sure if it can be repaired before the final stage.
“Of course, you have Maria too, but…”
In preparation for such cases, all performers prepare spare instruments, but can they match a dedicated instrument that’s been trained with eyes, ears, jaw, and hands for a long time? They couldn’t perfectly replace a dedicated instrument that’s been tamed like one’s own body.
Some people even forfeit the main competition when their dedicated instrument breaks.
“But what worries me most is inside there…”
“That’s enough. You don’t need to worry.”
“No, don’t break anyone’s limbs just because you get angry like before. Absolutely not!”
He may seem docile now, but Esa-Pekka Salonen knows Johann’s temperament.
Johann lives with a massive bomb in his chest that could cripple all 11 others besides himself if things go wrong. If that happens, he’ll be expelled from the classical world.
“Absolutely! You absolutely cannot break anything! Understood?”
“…Yes.”
Johann, who had been grumbling with his lips and face, sighs and turns around.
“Then I’ll see you in 8 days, Teacher. Rick too.”
“Absolutely! Absolutely, got it?!”
“I said I got it!”
“Contact me anytime if something happens.”
Johann walked along the path waving his arms above his head, and Esa-Pekka Salonen, who had been quietly watching with a dark expression, shakes his head.
“…Sigh. Right. If those guys have any sense, they won’t do anything outrageous.”
It’s a competition watched by musicians from around the world.
Even the Queen of Belgium is watching this competition.
They can’t do anything that would lower the competition’s prestige.
Esa-Pekka Salonen decided to believe this and turned around.
* * *
Rattle!
“Yeah. I’m almost there. Phew, it’s hard for me too, but I’ll endure it for 8 days. Yeah. I love you.”
Pulling a suitcase with one hand while holding a phone with the other, walking down the path, a large building soon appears.
A modern rectangular building that couldn’t be called a castle.
“…Do they call it a castle because of its size?”
Or maybe it’s because of the oval roof above the lobby entrance, often seen at noble mansions or hotel entrances.
“Ah! It’s Johann! Johann-!”
Norman, who had been loitering in front of the main entrance, waves his hands frantically, then throws down his luggage and runs over.
“Have you been well? I knew you’d make it to the finals!”
“When did you say it would be Semyonenko or Ching Wei?”
“When, when did I!”
Norman, startled, glances at Johann and gets angry.
“You were the one whining that you might lose to Wartz!”
William Ching Wei, Oleksi Semyonenko, and Steven Wartz.
The names of three geniuses who unfortunately were eliminated in the second round of the semifinals.
‘Though it’s not unfortunate!’
Like many musicians, they had high pride in classical music.
So they looked down on Johann and viewed him unfavorably, but their mentality was shaken by Johann’s skills shown in the third preliminary and first and second semifinals, and they ultimately couldn’t display their true abilities on stage, leading to their elimination.
It was their own doing, but it wasn’t something to say to Johann who didn’t know much about this side. Especially since it seemed like that incident helped with their own advancement to the finals.
“Is this the mouth that spouts nonsense?”
“Mmph! Mmmph!”
‘…It won’t be boring.’
A duo that never has a dull moment just watching them.
“Ah, Johann. Do you know? They say you can’t eat anything outside of designated times!”
“…What?”
“Saying it like that makes the organizers seem too harsh. More precisely, it seems the kitchen staff go home after 9 PM.”
All other staff except those on duty.
“Ah.”
That makes sense. Since the Music Chapel is located in a remote area, and it’s a space only for final participants, the staff would have to return to the city to sleep.
“Then can we use the kitchen… Hmm?”
Johann, who was entering the lobby, stops. Because of the sharp gazes piercing his entire body.
‘Siyoung Lee, Jiyeon Lim, Ari Kim, Fumika Mori, Kenneth Renshaw.’
A group of women. For some reason, their gazes toward him are fierce.
The gazes of the men standing throughout the lobby – Wang Xiao, William Hagen, Tobias Pethelman, Thomas Rife – aren’t very good either.
Geniuses, each one capable of winning without it being strange.
‘Why exactly?’
As Johann furrows his brow, Norman sneakily hides behind him.
“Wo, women are a bit difficult for me…”
“It’s gynophobia.”
“It’s not that severe! Just…!”
Ding!
Everyone’s gaze turns toward the stairs leading to the second floor.
A man in his 60s coming down, showing dignified charm through his British-style suit. Staff members in uniforms follow behind him.
“Welcome to the Music Chapel. I am Bell Grisham, who will be responsible for overseeing all conveniences for you 12 finalists who will soon grace the honored stage.”
“…”
When unsure how to respond to the polite greeting, when confused about whether to introduce themselves, loud applause suddenly echoes through the lobby.
The finalists quickly applauded, and Bell Grisham gave Johann a grateful look.
“Now that the last finalist has arrived, we will cut off all external communication from this moment. Everyone please submit your mobile phones, laptops, and other communication devices to the staff.”
“I-I’d like to make one last call to my family!”
“That’s not allowed.”
“I need my laptop to arrange music! My free piece is saved on it too!”
“There are laptops and tablet PCs prepared by the organizers in the rooms where you’ll be staying, so please use those.”
If they use different programs, they can request downloads.
Free pieces will also be saved on USB drives after checking the devices.
With everything blocked like this, the participants had no choice but to keep quiet, and Bell Grisham smiled slyly at the sight of participants who were flustered, not expecting things to go this far.
Meanwhile, approaching staff searched through the participants’ bodies, bags, violin cases, and confiscated all communication devices.
“Now we will guide you to the rooms where you’ll be staying for the next 8 days. The assigned piece will also be delivered to your room, so please come forward when your name is called.”
Flinch!
‘Why bother?’
Why tell us in the room when they could tell us now.
Suspicion rises but I swallow it.
“See you later!”
Leaving Norman’s greeting behind, I follow the staff member and am soon guided to a room that’s neither big nor small.
‘It’s cozy.’
A room decorated in wood tones as if entering a cabin in the forest. The only furniture is a bed, desk, and closet, but it doesn’t feel bleak thanks to the sunlight pouring through the large window.
“The assigned piece is written in the envelope on the desk. And please write and submit your free piece by 11 AM today.”
“I already submitted it though?”
“You might change your mind along the way.”
All finalists can change their free piece anytime during the 8 days at the Music Chapel.
Of course, any consequences from that change must be the finalist’s responsibility.
“Understood.”
“If you need anything, please press this button anytime. Well then.”
As the staff member points to the red button next to the door, closes it and turns away, Johann walks to the desk and opens the large envelope.
Thick sheet music, a USB, and an MP3 player.
“Hmm?”
Mikhail Yarel, Light as Clouds.
A composer I’ve never heard of.
‘Should I check the library first?’
No. Understanding the piece’s style and feel comes first.
‘I’ll check it out if I really don’t understand.’
That’s how my skills will improve.
Johann sat on the bed and began scanning through the sheet music, as the pouring sunlight gently patted his shoulder.
* * *
Inside an office where majestic melodies ring out.
“Got it. I’ll prepare.”
The middle-aged woman who ended the call, conductor Marin Obzol, puts a cigarette in her mouth.
Click! Hiss!
“Finally they’ve all arrived…”
All the Queen Elisabeth Competition finalists have gathered at the Music Chapel.
Things will start getting busy as early as two days from now.
‘What kind of imagery will this year’s geniuses reveal to delight me.’
How flustered they must be right now at the name Mikhail Yarel, a composer they’ve probably never heard of.
The piece will probably feel quite awkward too.
It’s contemporary classical, not classical classical. For them who didn’t have enough time to learn the classics, even interpreting it would be difficult.
“I really hope I get to teach them…”
I want to help them reveal the imagery they hold in their hearts.
Marin Obzol licks her lips with her red tongue and looks at the list on her desk.
“There are few women this year. Tsk.”
Faint irritation appeared in her eyes.
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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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