Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 180

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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 180

 

Drip drop!

 

Sweat pours down.

 

Hot breath escapes from his mouth, and exhausted eyes look at Johann standing upright.

 

Johann with only his breathing slightly disturbed.

 

“Thank you for your hard work. I understand the problems, so I’ll see you in the evening.”

 

After actually performing it, some problems become visible.

 

It seems I need to go back and make corrections.

 

“In the evening…?”

 

“Isn’t that obvious?”

 

We practice until it becomes perfect.

 

For the audience, the time they spend sitting in the audience seats watching is everything. Making that complete moment perfect and enchanting is the basic virtue of an orchestra, of professionals.

 

‘If it were Eduard, he would have made them practice 20 hours a day, but with just this much…’

 

An era when there were no human rights, when performers who collapsed or got injured during practice were simply replaced with other players. Since that’s not allowed now, I only practiced and adjusted for 3 hours.

 

‘They themselves must have practiced 12 hours a day before becoming professionals like this.’

 

Even after such practice, if talent is lacking, one must live as an ordinary person – that’s the classical music world, that’s society.

 

Marin Obzol coldly snaps at Johann who swallows his slight dissatisfaction.

 

“Are you mistaken that we’re your exclusive orchestra?”

 

Do you know how many times they have to perform this designated piece?

 

A whopping 12 times.

 

Even divided into Team 1 and Team 2, that’s 6 pieces each. If we keep changing like this, it will cause confusion in memory.

 

Moreover, they have to perform 12 free choice pieces as well.

 

Each team has to perfectly practice 12 pieces in just 8 days and present them to the audience. Changes had to be kept to a minimum.

 

‘Well done! That’s it, Conductor!’

 

The orchestra members cheered inwardly, but Johann tilts his head.

 

‘Isn’t that what musical scores are for?’

 

She’s making strange excuses.

 

Johann narrows his brow after looking at Marin Obzol’s face.

 

‘She dislikes me.’

 

What could be the reason?

 

‘This has become troublesome.’

 

In an orchestra, the conductor’s word is law.

 

But if I give up on corrections here, it becomes neither this nor that.

 

That can’t happen. Already in his imagination, he’s bowing on the victory stage.

 

Johann slowly closes and opens his eyes, laughing inwardly as if absurd.

 

‘So this was it?’

 

It’s so absurd that only laughter comes out.

 

“Could we… talk for a moment?”

 

“Ha! Why? Are you going to offer me a bribe?”

 

“It’ll just take a moment, so please.”

 

“Hmph!”

 

Let’s see how far this goes, as Marin Obzol comes down from the platform and heads to a corner of the hall with Johann.

 

“Fine. How much are you going to give…”

 

“Since you became conductor, all the Queen Elisabeth winners have been women, haven’t they?”

 

The Belgian National Orchestra, always the collaborative orchestra for the Queen Elisabeth Competition.

 

“Pfft. So what?”

 

How many times has she heard this? It’s a story she’s heard continuously since taking the conductor’s baton at the Belgian National Orchestra.

 

Her eyes turn cold.

 

“You’re trying to threaten me with just that? I guarantee it. You won’t be able to give a proper performance in the finals!”

 

“Ah, so you’ve already been suspected. Then do your husband and daughter know this? That you like women.”

 

How shocked would those two be if they knew this fact?

 

Thump!

 

Johann stares intently at her eyes as her eyelids tremble slightly.

 

“Your devout Christian father and mother. In Christianity, homosexuality is considered a sin.”

 

“…”

 

“Is your lover’s name Emma?”

 

Whether she liked women or committed adultery, Johann wasn’t interested. As long as it didn’t harm him.

 

However, if his performance, his father’s efforts for his son’s performance might be trampled because of that, he had no intention of avoiding somewhat cowardly and cruel means.

 

“You!”

 

Her face turns pale as she urgently covers Johann’s mouth.

 

How did he find out?

 

Her eyes shake like a small boat caught in a storm.

 

Johann grins and removes the hand wet with cold sweat.

 

“Then I can come visit this evening, right?”

 

Crack!

 

“…Fine.”

 

“You should smile. The orchestra members are watching.”

 

“Ho ho ho ho ho! Yes! See you in the evening!”

 

“Thank you! Please take care of me from now on!”

 

‘If you hadn’t had foolish thoughts, there would have been no need for such threats.’

 

It’s all self-inflicted.

 

Now the relationship has become irreversible, but she won’t be able to pull foolish stunts like giving variations in the middle of pieces or conducting to play exactly like the original, as previous finalists suffered.

 

Johann snorts and turns around, while Marin Obzol grinds her teeth.

 

The orchestra members look at Johann’s back with surprised eyes. Just how did he persuade Marin Obzol?

 

‘Since his skill is good…’

 

The musical score that had written where to enter and how much to emphasize, as if separate conducting wasn’t needed.

 

“…This can’t be this year’s average, right?”

 

“No way…”

 

“Still, wouldn’t it be close? He wasn’t the first finalist announced either.”

 

“Are all this year’s finalists monsters?”

 

Anticipation blooms in the orchestra members’ eyes. Playing with skilled people is always fortunate, a wonderful experience.

 

‘Damn it! Son of a bitch!’

 

She was had. Thoroughly had.

 

The secret she’d hidden her entire life was completely exposed.

 

‘How on earth did he know that fact?’

 

Of course, Johann won’t go around talking about it either. For now, the Queen Elisabeth Competition finals would be the priority.

 

But what would happen if the results don’t meet expectations?

 

‘He’ll tell the media! That bastard!’

 

First, it seems she needs to sort things out with her girlfriend.

 

“Everyone take a break.”

 

As Marin Obzol turns around, her gaze unconsciously goes to the musical score placed on the platform.

 

The musical score that bothered her throughout the conducting.

 

‘Why the hell does that score give off the scent of a master!’

 

The feeling of a master from an unreachably high place.

 

In terrible discomfort, she chews her lips.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Johann who came outside mutters.

 

“To interpret it this way.”

 

Playing it in person definitely makes it more relatable.

 

How should I put it. I think Eduard must have had a hard time too.

 

“By the way… is my height finally going to stop growing now…?”

 

Already 6.1 feet (about 185cm). Even though I stayed up all night like this, I feel less tired than last month.

 

“Should I grow taller or not.”

 

‘I think this height is just right though.’

 

There are so many tall people in America, and Flash is currently 6.2 feet (about 188cm), so it’s a dilemma.

 

‘My growth plates still have room though.’

 

Johann narrows his eyes as he exits the Bozar Center for Fine Arts.

 

Screech!

 

“Hm?”

 

The Music Chapel’s transportation vehicle he had ridden stops on the road.

 

Siyoung Lee, Ari Kim, and Thomas Rife get out and pause.

 

‘Ah, those people must be the next reservation after me.’

 

It’s still only 9 AM.

 

They hadn’t expected someone to have reserved before them, so they widened their eyes for a moment.

 

“You came early? As expected, when you have many thoughts, it’s better to try it directly, right?”

 

“Yes, well…”

 

‘They haven’t interpreted the piece yet, I see.’

 

As Siyoung Lee just said, sometimes you find answers by actually practicing and matching breath with people.

 

Unlike Johann who had already finished his interpretation, the three of them must have come for that reason. It was their own strategy to use the limited time efficiently.

 

“Good luck. I’m tired, so I’ll be going.”

 

Johann got into the passenger seat of the vehicle, and Siyoung Lee and the others’ faces turned red from what felt like being ignored.

 

“I was being nice by talking to him first! What a savage!”

 

“Savage…?”

 

When Ari Kim spoke angrily, Siyoung Lee expressed puzzlement.

 

She also knew the story that Johann had lived with wolves in the Rocky Mountains before coming down.

 

But that was already several years ago. He now seemed completely adapted to the city, and if someone didn’t know his past, they wouldn’t be able to tell at all that he had lived in the mountains.

 

When she expressed doubt about this, Ari Kim’s eyes darkened as she spoke.

 

“I live in LA, so I’ve heard quite a few rumors.”

 

The rumor that whenever Johann gets into a fight with someone, his fists always come out before words.

 

“He still hasn’t abandoned the habits from when he lived like a wolf!”

 

“Ah.”

 

Thomas Rife, who knew nothing about Johann’s past, looked surprised.

 

Thomas Rife had shown considerable hostility toward him throughout the Queen Elisabeth Competition.

 

The thought that he could have been hit made him shudder.

 

Sensing this mood, Siyoung Lee hurriedly comforted Thomas Rife.

 

“Come on, surely he wouldn’t use violence here? Don’t worry about it, Thomas.”

 

“Right? Haha!”

 

“Ah, we’ll be late. Let’s hurry inside.”

 

Their reserved time was almost up. They couldn’t keep the orchestra members waiting.

 

The three entered through the staff entrance and opened the door to the stage wide, then suddenly stopped hesitantly.

 

The stage filled with hot energy, expectant gazes, and even Marin Obzol’s cold stare.

 

‘What, what is this?’

 

The three of them shrank back.

 

* * *

 

‘Again!’

 

‘Again! Ha, let’s do it again!’

 

‘You can’t even do this?! Did you even interpret it?!’

 

‘This is your interpretation, right? We can go like this, right?’

 

“Haak?!”

 

Siyoung Lee bolted upright, breathing heavily.

 

Cold sweat soaked her entire body.

 

She bites her nails.

 

“Why on earth…”

 

The final practice she heard about from her teacher Michaela Miller wasn’t like this.

 

The Belgium National Orchestra, where all of Belgium’s musical geniuses gathered. Their pride reached the sky, but because of Belgium’s relaxed culture, she was told they would practice with laughter and joy as long as you showed passion.

 

She was told conductor Marin Obzol would be even more so since she’s generous to women.

 

But it wasn’t like that.

 

Marin Obzol was sharper and more cutting than an awl.

 

The orchestra members’ eyes grew more disappointed as practice continued.

 

‘Even if I couldn’t interpret the piece!’

 

She felt very wronged and sad because she played the piece itself properly and made no mistakes.

 

Since it was already the third day dawning, impatience consumed her entire body.

 

“Wow! Amazing!”

 

Flinch!

 

At the sound from outside, she walked to the window and gritted her teeth.

 

Johann exercising in a bizarre posture, Philip doing push-ups, and even Norman clapping while watching them.

 

“…Annoying.”

 

What are they so happy about that they’re laughing like that?

 

“This is a competition!”

 

Where only one out of 12 people takes the glory of victory.

 

Shouldn’t they be showing a brutal scene of grabbing each other by the collar instead of such absent-minded behavior?

 

But what annoyed her more than that was fear.

 

“How did I get this far!”

 

Since first holding a violin at age 5, she never let go of the violin from when she opened her eyes until she went to sleep.

 

Her mother made her eat with her left hand, saying she shouldn’t put down the bow even while eating.

 

Her father who clapped, saying if she became left-handed, she’d press the strings more naturally.

 

To make them smile, she broke rivals’ mentals, trampled on talented juniors, and slandered seniors, crawling up to this position desperately.

 

Now she just needs to win.

 

If she just wins at this Queen Elisabeth Competition, a bright future will unfold. A future that no one in Korea can approach.

 

That is promised.

 

‘No. This won’t do.’

 

Watching Johann and the others, she bit her lips and headed to the restroom.

 

* * *

 

Norman’s eyes sparkle as he heads to the cafeteria.

 

Johann left the building when the sun was dimly rising, ran for about an hour and came back, then did push-ups on three fingers while doing a handstand.

 

“Isn’t it really hard?”

 

“I do it every day, so not particularly.”

 

“Amazing! I can’t even do regular push-ups!”

 

Five is his maximum.

 

Is such powerful yet delicate performance possible because of this kind of training? Norman looks down at the corridor floor.

 

“Don’t do it.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You’ll get hurt if you try to copy me.”

 

This is training that started after absorbing and reading ‘Survival Expert, Johann Jaeger’. If you carelessly try to follow along, your bones and muscles will get injured and you’ll have to retire.

 

“Ugh! I don’t want that. Wow, the smell of food!”

 

As they enter the cafeteria, the smell of all kinds of buffet-style food pierces their nostrils.

 

“Salmon, salmon, salmon.”

 

Norman turns out to be a salmon killer.

 

He says he could eat salmon every day, so he takes all the dishes that contain salmon.

 

“Oh? There are dumplings today too!”

 

“They’re not dumplings, they’re jiaozi.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Johann, Norman, and Philip turn their heads.

 

Behind them, a young man in his early twenties with a displeased expression, Wang Xiao.

 

“It’s a traditional dish that was first made in our China.”

 

“Really? Wow!”

 

Johann sighs at Philip’s wide-eyed expression as if he didn’t know.

 

“China just calls similar dishes jiaozi, but China wasn’t necessarily the first to make dishes with filling wrapped in dough.”

 

Dishes called jiaozi in China, dumplings in English-speaking countries, gyoza in Japan, and mandu in Korea.

 

Many people know that the origin of these dishes came from China, but in fact, the academic consensus was that even China began making and eating them after Persian cuisine was introduced through the Silk Road.

 

Later, when the Mongol Empire dominated Central Asia including China and extended to Eastern Europe, what spread and was created were Italy’s ravioli, Russia’s pelmeni, and Poland’s pierogi.

 

In other words, while dumplings could be said to have originated from Chinese jiaozi, jiaozi itself wasn’t the first dish to wrap filling in dough.

 

“Expressions should be accurate. This guy is naive and just believes everything.”

 

“…I’ll be careful.”

 

Wang Xiao tries to calm his reddened face.

 

“Huh! What? Was that a joke? Wow. Johann, you’re smart!”

 

“I’m pretty serious about food.”

 

Johann, who said that, looks at Wang Xiao.

 

He clearly had something else to say when he approached them.

 

“Hello. I’m Johann Jefferson. This is…”

 

“Eugene Victor Norman! Call me Norman!”

 

“Philip Dupon.”

 

“Ahem. I’m Wang Xiao. If it’s okay, could we eat together…”

 

“Huh? Is Wang Xiao also curious about our interpretation?”

 

Flinch!

 

“Hehe. I see.”

 

Wang Xiao is the third. The third person to come asking how they interpreted the piece.

 

Norman, who grinned, looks at Johann.

 

“We interpreted it as a story of clouds and a girl.”

 

“…You’re telling me this easily?”

 

“Wasn’t that what you came to ask?”

 

Johann tilts his head.

 

It didn’t seem like he came to build friendship. In that case, it was best to just tell him and send him away without wasting emotions on each other.

 

“…Thank you. I’ll definitely repay this favor. Clouds and a girl…”

 

Wang Xiao put down his tray and turned around, while Philip made an expression of complete incomprehension.

 

“Johann, why do you tell them everything?”

 

“It’s just a matter of time anyway.”

 

Even without telling them, these are geniuses with the talent to reach similar conclusions soon. Right now, they have no information, so their vision has narrowed due to the psychological pressure of competition.

 

And if he creates debts like this, wouldn’t there be occasions to use them?

 

“If we stay in this field, we’ll meet these people again someday.”

 

“…You always talk like an adult.”

 

“Right! Like an old soul!”

 

Johann, ignoring their words, organizes the musical notes that come to mind.

 

“Plus, I got inspiration thanks to that.”

 

“Inspiration?”

 

“I’m going to produce an album after the competition ends.”

 

“Wow! Amazing! What kind of album? Violin solo? Concerto? Gasp! Don’t tell me you composed an orchestra piece?”

 

“You’ll know if you wait and see.”

 

Johann, who smiled slyly, glanced behind him and then loaded plenty of meat onto his tray.

 

‘That was it!’

 

Siyoung Lee grits her teeth as she turns and leaves the cafeteria.

 

The imagery of lightness like clouds, which had been intermittently unclear, now unfolds completely in her heart.

 

“Ha! Ri, you’re not believing what he said, are you?”

 

Thomas Rife argues that it’s ridiculous.

 

“There’s no way he’d honestly tell a competing opponent, right? Rather than such a fairy tale story, a family outing on a day light as clouds would be more…”

 

‘Shut up! Don’t interfere!’

 

She wishes he wouldn’t disturb this inspiration surging in her mind.

 

Thus, the preparation of the 12 finalists who entered the Music Chapel was completed.

 

* * *

 

Buzz buzz!

 

Countless crowds gather in front of the Bozar Arts Center.

 

People wearing suits and dresses.

 

Parents, lovers, and couples holding hands with children also dressed in suits and dresses.

 

Large broadcasting cameras film them.

 

Today is the long-awaited final of Belgium’s annual festival, the Queen Elisabeth Competition.

 

What pieces will the finalists who entered the Music Chapel perform?

 

What pieces will they use to move them?

 

Everyone sits in the audience seats with heated anticipation.

 

Behind the stage they’re watching, the performers sitting in the waiting room are also at a loss with their wildly beating hearts.

 

Despite having experienced numerous competitions, the tension, anxiety, and uneasiness remain. Everyone tries to calm their shaking hearts and bodies with their own routines.

 

They glance at the turned-off TV in the waiting room and then look away.

 

‘No.’

 

The imagery gets mixed. They deliberately look away and anxiously wait for their turn.

 

The same goes for Johann.

 

“Phew. This is also a first.”

 

Being alone in a waiting room like this is also a first.

 

Tremendous pressure weighs down on his chest.

 

Of course, he’s confident in his skills, and confident he won’t make mistakes, but this has a different meaning.

 

For the first time, loneliness and solitude as if he’s truly alone.

 

He finally got his phone back, but Johann doesn’t turn it on. Messages are flying in, but he deliberately ignores them.

 

Because even this is an experience.

 

Because it’s a first experience he can never have again.

 

He endures alone and accepts it as experience.

 

Click! Click!

 

“…It’s started.”

 

From the sound of shoes echoing in the corridor, he realizes the competition final has begun.

 

Who could it be? What kind of performance will they give?

 

He can faintly hear sounds.

 

But he deliberately ignores them. Because the imagery mustn’t get mixed.

 

How much time passed like that?

 

Knock knock knock!

 

The door opens and a staff member enters.

 

“You need to get ready.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Johann stands up, holding two violin cases.

 

Waaaaaaah!

 

Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap!

 

Norman comes bouncing over with applause and cheers growing louder as he gets closer to the stage. His face is bright, as if it was a performance without regrets.

 

‘Just until we left today, he was ready to die.’

 

“Do well!”

 

Hehe!

 

“See you later.”

 

“Yeah!”

 

A bright shout that dispels the loneliness that had been eating at his heart.

 

One of the best things about attending this competition was probably becoming friends with Norman.

 

-Next is…

 

The MC’s introduction rings in his ears.

 

As he climbs the stairs and steps onto the stage, applause pours out to welcome Johann.

 

The audience’s attire is different from the preliminaries and finals.

 

Gazes shaking off lingering emotions and filled with anticipation.

 

‘Huh?’

 

Johann’s eyes widen greatly.

 

‘La, Larry?’

 

That’s not all. Emily and Ada, Sandra Sherman are also sitting next to Esa-Pekka Salonen, waving their arms.

 

‘How, how?’

 

A smile naturally forms on Johann’s lips, and strength begins to surge from his toes.

 

The silent cheers telling him to do his best cause the pressure weighing down his entire body to fall away naturally.

 

Johann glances at the piano placed on stage, then stands between conductor Marin Obzol, whose eyes mix anxiety and irritation, and the orchestra, taking out Desiderio.

 

In the settling silence, he rests the body against his chin, grips the bow, closes his eyes then opens them to look at Marin Obzol.

 

‘Let’s begin.’

 

All preparations are complete.

 

Josef II, Eduard Strauss, and Johann himself as well.

 

Marin Obzol swept her arms wide.

 

Bam!

 

The beautiful story arranged by the father and performed by the son began to resonate through Bazar Hall.

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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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