Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 179

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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 179

 

“Not as light… as clouds?”

 

This was his impression after listening to the entire piece.

 

The atmosphere of the first part of the piece evokes clouds floating over a blue sky on a clear day.

 

Leisurely, and just watching makes you naturally sigh.

 

But entering the middle section, the emotion completely reverses.

 

It becomes intricate while growing larger.

 

“Something’s strange? …What is it?”

 

‘It seems like the speaker has changed…’

 

But there isn’t just one speaker in the middle section.

 

From what Johann could discern, having coveted and experienced various talents, there were at least three.

 

The latter half is even more chaotic. These speakers burst out simultaneously and interact with each other.

 

Fighting, scolding, reconciling with each other.

 

At this point, the violin joins in as the first-half speaker.

 

Don’t do that, come play with me instead.

 

“Why is it so confusing?”

 

‘They do seem to be a skilled composer though…’

 

Just looking at the difficulty of the piece shows this. It’s as hard to perform as it is confusing.

 

‘They wouldn’t have entrusted the Queen Elisabeth Competition final designated piece to just anyone.’

 

It’s so incomprehensibly complex that it’s frustrating.

 

“It would be nice if there were at least some explanation of the piece…”

 

As if saying they’d given the clue of a title so interpretation was his job, as if they’d provided a fully-optioned house so furniture arrangement was up to him, no matter how much he searched the room, there was no explanation of the piece.

 

‘The performance is also plain, like viewing a model house.’

 

It only expresses about the standard level that looks good at first glance.

 

“Well, this is what makes classical music attractive.”

 

Classical music where nothing is ever easy, arousing the desire to challenge.

 

Beep beep! Beep beep!

 

“Ah.”

 

It was the desk clock alarm.

 

Johann, who had written his pre-selected free choice piece on a note next to where the envelope had been, got up and left the room.

 

Heading to the lobby, he found Bell Grisham standing upright in the center.

 

“Ah, that saves me time from having to find you. Here’s the free choice piece.”

 

Bell Grisham’s eyes lit up as he received the note.

 

‘Oh. This piece?’

 

“Understood. I’ll register it.”

 

He put the note into a small envelope with Johann’s name on it. This was to prevent any mix-ups.

 

“Do you have any questions?”

 

“When is lunch? I couldn’t ask earlier.”

 

“…From 6 AM to 8 PM. You can eat anytime you want.”

 

You could also order any menu you wanted.

 

Except for contact with the outside and use of electronic devices other than designated ones, the Music Chapel provided every convenience for the finalists.

 

“There’s a walking trail, so I recommend using it when your head feels heavy.”

 

“Oh.”

 

‘I should order tons of hamburgers before 8 o’clock.’

 

Compared to french fries, hamburgers were average quality, but better than nothing.

 

“What about practice with the orchestra?”

 

“It’s possible starting now.”

 

Reservations could also be made starting now.

 

But today he probably wouldn’t be able to, being busy interpreting the piece.

 

“Understood. Thank you. Ah, lastly, could I get some pieces composed by Mikhail Yarel?”

 

He could just use Absorption Reading, but he wanted to try with his own strength for now.

 

“I’ll arrange that. But don’t you need an explanation of the piece?”

 

“Will you explain it?”

 

“…”

 

He thought so.

 

‘There must have been many people asking for explanations of the piece.’

 

This year, last year, the year before.

 

The Music Chapel side would have repeatedly refused. With the thought that interpretation was entirely the performer’s responsibility.

 

This might be a tradition of the Queen Elisabeth Competition.

 

“Well then, I’ll be going.”

 

‘I’m not… hungry yet.’

 

It seemed like he should go for a walk.

 

Coming outside like this, Johann’s expression became much more comfortable.

 

“Outside is definitely better than a room.”

 

The sense of liberation that open space gives compared to enclosed space on all sides.

 

Walking like this, he came upon a walking trail thick with tall trees.

 

Rabbits. Birds. Rodents like mice. Though no other traces were found, the air was different.

 

“Things raised by humans definitely smell different.”

 

How should he put it. Should he call it an organized smell?

 

Unlike wild forests where all sorts of smells are mixed together, human-cultivated forests smell good.

 

A smell that made you want to lie down and sleep if you came across a wide rock while walking quietly. A smell that naturally relaxed the body.

 

Stepping through the grass with rustling sounds, before long a small lake welcomed him.

 

Johann sat down on the grassy field for a moment and looked at the clouds floating over the lake.

 

‘How leisurely.’

 

Even the clouds passing between the trees.

 

Like the first part of “Light as Clouds” flowing from the MP3 player in his ears right now, it made him sigh.

 

Ta-ra-ra!

 

‘Cello.’

 

Woong! Woo-woong!

 

‘Flute, bassoon.’

 

Piri-ri! Buu-uu!

 

‘And the violin’s beginning.’

 

Kiii-ing.

 

“Good.”

 

On a bright clear day, listening to the piece while watching flowing clouds felt more touching than before.

 

“What’s good?”

 

“The sky.”

 

Johann turned his head.

 

Norman, who had settled in this spot before Johann arrived. Torn grass clung to his clothes and hair as if he had rolled on the grassy field.

 

“How about you?”

 

“Me too!”

 

“Did you come alone?”

 

“Philip is the type who worries in one spot.”

 

The type who doesn’t get up, keeping his bottom planted until he gets an answer.

 

“And you’re the type who comes outside?”

 

“Yeah! What’s the point of worrying inside? It just gives you a headache. Johann, what about you?”

 

“I’m both.”

 

He both worried in one spot until getting an answer, went outside when things got complicated, and sometimes got answers by directly confronting and breaking through.

 

He didn’t fix himself to any one method.

 

“Oh. That’s interesting. It’s similar to me.”

 

Norman, who has a blade of grass between his lips, looks up at the sky again. He leans back and lies down on the grassy field.

 

“Ah, this is nice. I want to sleep.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Will this problem be solved when we wake up?

 

Johann also leans back.

 

Then a gentle spring breeze blows and embraces them.

 

His half-closed eyes still hold the sky, but his mind continues to analyze the light as clouds. Hoping there might be another clue within the musical notes.

 

“Tch!”

 

A sound that breaks his troubled immersion.

 

When he turns his head, he sees women including Siyoung Lee and Ari Kim looking this way with displeased expressions.

 

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yes, sister.”

 

They turn their backs coldly and head in the opposite direction.

 

“Wh-what did we do wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

‘It’s probably because of that.’

 

Retaliation for giving them a bit of trouble when they picked a fight in the corridor of the Bozar Arts Center during the third preliminary round.

 

They must have said all sorts of strange things about him.

 

“Don’t mind them.”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

The two fell back into the ocean of thought.

 

Grumble!

 

“Wow…”

 

Norman looks at Johann’s stomach in amazement.

 

“I’ve never heard a sound like that before!”

 

“I have good metabolic abilities.”

 

When he checks the time, it’s already 6 o’clock.

 

Not only did he skip lunch while worrying, but he didn’t even notice that dinner time was approaching.

 

“Let’s go eat.”

 

Since his head is hot, he feels like he needs to eat lots of sweet things too.

 

“Yeah!”

 

Norman gets up, brushes himself off, and walks alongside Johann.

 

“Johann, don’t you think modern classical music is difficult?”

 

“You think so?”

 

Classical music may be delicately and colorfully expressed, but many pieces have clear stories they want to convey.

 

On the other hand, modern classical music – perhaps because it tries to break free from conventional ideas – is often expressed too freely, making it difficult to understand what it’s trying to convey.

 

“It would be nice if ‘Light as Clouds’ were as intuitive as those clouds.”

 

It seems like a piece about young boys and girls chattering in a field, but strangely it also reflects people who look aged and old – Light as Clouds.

 

“Clouds?”

 

“Just look over there – doesn’t that big cloud seem to be chasing the small cloud? Hey! You need to take your school bag!”

 

“Oh?”

 

Johann is having the kind of imagination he had when he was 7 years old.

 

“That growing cloud too. See? It’s like saying ‘Can I grow this big?’ And that cloud that looks like a rabbit…”

 

Flash!

 

Lightning strikes in Johann’s mind.

 

The fragments of Josef II, who had outstanding talent in interpretation and arrangement, and the great pianist Emil Gilels stir.

 

“…That’s it.”

 

That was it.

 

“Huh? What is?”

 

“The story of the clouds.”

 

Large clouds, aged clouds, dark clouds carrying lightning.

 

Different clouds gathered in one place, so they fought, someone scolded them, and then they reconciled with each other.

 

This naturally explains why people who look strangely aged and old are reflected.

 

‘Because the life of clouds is short.’

 

Clouds that you never know when, where, or how they form or fade away.

 

“The middle part is the story of the clouds.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“The latter part is the story of those clouds playing with a girl.”

 

Don’t just play among yourselves, let’s play together.

 

This is why there were multiple speakers.

 

“Huh? Huh huh?”

 

Now there’s only one thing left.

 

Since he’s gained confidence, all that’s left is to confirm the answer.

 

Johann closes his eyes, enters the library, and accesses ‘Mikhail Yarel’.

 

And he was certain.

 

“This was it.”

 

‘That makes… sense!’

 

Norman clenches his fist tightly.

 

It feels like the fog that was stuck tight in his head is clearing.

 

So he’s flustered.

 

“Is, is it okay to tell me something like that?”

 

“What’s wrong with it? There was no rule saying we couldn’t share opinions with each other.”

 

“Ah?”

 

“Would they have gathered 12 people in one place just to have us worry alone?”

 

If it wasn’t for us to consult with each other, cooperate, sometimes criticize and agree while growing, there was no need to gather us like this.

 

“There’s no need to install something like that for such undignified pretense.”

 

Johann points to the camera hanging on the tree nearby.

 

He discovered a total of eight cameras on the way from the Music Chapel main building to the small lake. There were also five cameras hidden in the lobby.

 

“…Wow. You’re really smart, aren’t you?”

 

“Let’s go.”

 

Now that he knows the answer, his hunger rushes in twice as strong as before.

 

“Yeah!”

 

The two kicked off the ground without hesitation.

 

“Philip-! We solved it-! Come out quickly-!”

 

Norman’s shout, knocking on Philip’s door, echoed loudly through the corridor.

 

* * *

 

“Wow. Even after eating all that, more still goes in.”

 

Norman sticks out his tongue looking at the hamburgers in Johann’s hands.

 

“You guys just don’t eat enough.”

 

Norman, who ate one piece of ham and cheese sandwich with some nuts, a bowl of soup, and a glass of milk, then patted his full belly.

 

Philip wasn’t much different either.

 

“That’s not true… We’re about average… Right?”

 

“Thanks for telling me again. I’ll definitely repay this favor.”

 

“Hello? Philip? You should agree with me.”

 

“Forget it. I wasn’t the only one who realized it. See you tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

 

“See you tomorrow! I’ll come visit if I get bored!”

 

As Norman waving his hands vigorously and Philip hurrying his steps to return to his room quickly disappeared into the distance, Johann also entered his room and came out with his laptop and violin.

 

And he headed to the studio on the 3rd floor that he had reserved earlier.

 

Studios lined up in a row along the long corridor.

 

Through the small window in the door, he could see another finalist with lights on but no sound flowing out, playing the violin while dripping with sweat.

 

‘…Have they already finished interpreting it? Or are they just trying it out?’

 

Whether they heard Norman’s shout or not, even the people who had been looking around in the cafeteria earlier were now dripping with sweat.

 

Johann shrugged his shoulders and opened the door to the studio he had reserved.

 

A space not much different from a typical recording studio.

 

Nevertheless, he came here because of those speakers – an expensive speaker system that could almost express the grandeur of an orchestra.

 

Johann skillfully connected his laptop to the audio equipment and turned on the arrangement program.

 

“This time you’ll be better than Josef II.”

 

Rather than Josef II who had excellent talent in interpretation and arrangement, it would be ‘the authority on dance music, Eduard Strauss’ who greatly regretted hearing his son’s performance.

 

If it was him, regretting his mistake of not recognizing his child’s talent and forcing him down a path other than music, he would give his all.

 

“Search. The authority on dance music, Eduard Strauss.”

 

Whoosh!

 

It comes flying.

 

An orb slightly smaller than two heads.

 

Eduard Strauss, who envied and was jealous of his brothers whose talents reached the heavens, yet loved them.

 

He hoped his children wouldn’t feel the emotions he had experienced.

 

So he tried to end the Strauss musical lineage as the last musician of the Strauss family, but eventually gave up due to his eldest son Johann Strauss III’s talent and desperate pleas to do music.

 

‘If you were going to give up anyway, you should have asked.’

 

What his second son Josef II wanted.

 

He should have asked and let him do what he wanted.

 

If he had, Josef II wouldn’t have died later with regret and lingering attachments.

 

‘What would be the feelings of a parent who realized this too late?’

 

Probably their heart would be torn into a thousand, ten thousand pieces.

 

Johann, as if agreeing and grateful, grasped the wavering orb with both hands and pressed it to his chest.

 

“Ah.”

 

He could feel it. His talent.

 

“Try it.”

 

The arrangement.

 

“Since it’s a piece your son will perform.”

 

Johann’s eyes, having left the library, glinted menacingly.

 

* * *

 

Murmur murmur.

 

6 AM at the Bozar Arts Center as the sky was dimly brightening at dawn.

 

“Yaaawn!”

 

“No, what at this hour…”

 

“Looks like this year we have another participant with no sense but overflowing passion.”

 

Something that happens every year.

 

Not surprising, but that makes it more annoying. Especially since 4 people had reserved practice for today.

 

“Damn it. If they just memorized it again this time, just watch. Don’t stop me then.”

 

This year was the violin category, which could be called the foundation of the Queen Elisabeth Competition.

 

So they were secretly looking forward to it.

 

They had even watched the first and second rounds of the finals, so they were even more excited, but someone called them out for practice at a time when they couldn’t have even interpreted the piece.

 

“Conductor! Who’s the person asking to practice at this hour?!”

 

“Johann Jefferson.”

 

“…That pop singer?”

 

Stir!

 

“Ah, shit! I knew this would happen!”

 

“Bear with it. You never know. He’s a composer after all, so he might have interpreted the piece.”

 

“Are pop songs and classical music the same?”

 

“He harmonized hymns and rock.”

 

“Must have been a shitty song!”

 

“He won the Grammy Award for Song of the Year.”

 

“…”

 

A composer who created a song recognized by the entire world.

 

Even if the field was different, they had no choice but to keep their mouths shut. Still, complaints inevitably leaked out.

 

“And you saw his skills.”

 

The Queen Elisabeth Competition wasn’t lenient enough to let someone advance to the finals just because they were a famous singer. Johann possessed skills that even they, who had seen him directly, had to acknowledge.

 

‘That’s true.’

 

What should be acknowledged must be acknowledged.

 

But Marin Obzol was even more annoyed because of that. That someone with such talent was doing pop music.

 

‘And he’s a man.’

 

A man with absolutely no cuteness.

 

“So I’ll have to teach him harshly.”

 

During the 3 hours he reserved.

 

That pop music and classical music are different.

 

‘That classical music is more sublime!’

 

‘Ugh.’

 

‘This is going to be chaos.’

 

The orchestra members, knowing how Marin Obzol behaved when she made that expression, shuddered thinking about what would happen next.

 

‘Again, again, again!’

 

The shout echoing in their heads.

 

It was a moment when they felt sorry for Johann.

 

Slam!

 

Everyone turned their gaze to the opening door.

 

Thud thud!

 

Johann walking briskly while carrying a large box.

 

Johann placed the box on the stage and bowed his head.

 

“Thank you so much for accommodating my selfish request despite the early hour.”

 

Who would be happy about being called out at this time?

 

However, they didn’t say anything particular. It was in the contract to unconditionally fulfill the requests of finalists.

 

“Thank you for understanding. And this is chocolate I bought as an apology, and what I’ve arranged in my own way.”

 

“Arrangement?”

 

‘Haha!’

 

The young guy was putting on cute airs.

 

“As expected of a Billboard composer, this level of piece is easy…”

 

Marin Obzol closed her mouth and stared at the sheet music.

 

Overall almost identical but slightly, yet significantly different sheet music. A mansion finished with interior decoration in his own style.

 

‘How in just one day?!’

 

Even the conducting method was written down.

 

Marin Obzol quickly turned to the next page, and the orchestra members were flustered.

 

“C-Conductor?”

 

“…You all take a copy too.”

 

Quickly.

 

At those words, an employee moved to distribute the musical scores, and soon the orchestra members looked at Johann with pale faces.

 

‘At the Music Chapel, you can’t receive help from teachers or others?’

 

“Shall we begin once you’ve confirmed?”

 

Perhaps from staying up all night, drowsiness was washing over him.

 

“First, the violin will go with this kind of flow.”

 

From Johann’s Desiderio flowed the innocent laughter of a young child.

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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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