Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 35

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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 35

 

 

”Uh… Ah… Oh…”

Johann taps Bruno Mars who has lost his words.

“Snap out of it.”

“Huh? Huh?”

“Sigh.”

Johann sighs and takes a step forward.

People holding mobile phones hold their breath.

“What’s the matter?”

“…This is a different reaction from before?”

“You’ve seen it once already.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m joking. It’s punishment for suddenly surprising me.”

He thought he’d built immunity from one meeting, but a corner of his heart is trembling.

“Hahaha!”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Page. Johann Jefferson, 11 years old.”

“Oh, don’t you know me?”

The reaction is too weak.

“I’m an Eagles fan…”

“That’s right! If you’re my fan, you shouldn’t turn your eyes to something like Led Zeppelin! Some band from a country that eats sardine pie!”

“You’ll get hurt if you keep that up.”

“Hmph!”

Johann shakes his head at the childish fight between the two old men.

“So what’s the song request?”

“…Hotel California!”

He wants to see it directly. He wants to hear it up close. He wants to feel it.

That terrible loneliness.

The desperate struggle of wanting to get out.

His eyes burned hotly.

 

Johann takes off the electric guitar and puts on the acoustic guitar.

He hands the electric guitar to Bruno Mars.

“Gene, aren’t you going to do it?”

“I, I have to! …Can I do it?”

“You’ll get in trouble if you can’t.”

“…That might not be so bad.”

Bruno Mars mutters that and chuckles.

The tension eased thanks to the brief conversation.

“Can you sing it, Little Jefferson?”

He’s performing in front of the original artist. A pressure of a completely different dimension from just moments ago crushes his soul.

Johann snorted.

“Just don’t make any mistakes.”

Johann places his hand on the guitar strings and draws up his emotions.

The talent of ‘Eagles, Joseph Fiddler Walsh’ draws out the emotions from that time again. It colors his entire body.

Johann closes his eyes and plucks the guitar strings.

 

* * *

 

“What a nasty old man.”

He made him sing the original artist’s song in front of the original artist. Could there be a nastier disposition than this?

“Am I being too much?”

Joe Walsh snorts and points ahead.

“Look.”

If he looks, he’ll understand. That his song selection was never too much.

“Ha. Hmm?”

Jimmy Page, who was shaking his head thinking the old man was acting up again, furrows his brow.

‘His aura changed?’

He was a boy who had been playing around excitedly just moments ago, but suddenly he wants to hug him. It’s clearly a beach road with warm yellow sunlight shining down, but the color is fading away only around the boy.

His breath catches. The guitar riff that strikes his ears like lightning tears at his heart.

‘Wh, what?’

And Johann’s red lips open.

“On a dark desert highway!”

“…This is crazy.”

‘It got deeper?’

Joe Walsh’s raised lips tremble.

What could have happened while he wasn’t looking for the emotion to deepen?

‘At this level, I have no choice but to completely acknowledge it!’

He’s finally appeared. A genius who might revive the declining rock.

A performance that shocked the two old men and the audience began.

 

Zing zing zing!

“…Waaaaaaah!”

“Wheeeeeek! Whew! Whew!”

“Whew. Huff.”

Bruno Mars breathes heavily and is stunned.

What did he just hear?

Who did he sing with?

‘It, it was this good?’

The fact that Johann is a genius is something he already knew well.

But the Hotel California just now was beyond that.

The sadness that choked his throat.

The loneliness that struck his eyes.

His knees naturally lost strength, and he wanted to embrace that small back and comfort him.

What just happened was song itself.

A poem that expressed his story, his emotions through melody.

A forcing of emotion.

Johann also faces Bruno Mars like that.

The desperate emotion that burst out when doing the chorus.

Recalling that voice that tried to devour Johann’s own emotions, the most sincere voice during today’s busking, gives him goosebumps again.

‘As expected, this person is…’

“Um… I think today’s performance ends here.”

“Woo!”

“Encore! Encore!”

“Haha. Today isn’t the only day. Let’s meet again next time!”

Bruno Mars uses his speech skills honed through busking to ease the atmosphere, and people disperse.

Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page approach.

“It’s because of us, right? Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no! We were just about to have lunch!”

“Really?”

Jimmy Page pretended not to know and played along, then looked at Johann who was asking with his eyes how Joe Walsh was.

“So it was you after all. The person who composed the journey on a dream boat.”

It was a fact he already knew, but he realized it anew.

That there was no one else who could have composed that song except this child.

Flinch!

Joe Walsh looked at the shocked Bruno Mars and Johann and grinned.

“Shall we move to a different place for now?”

People who still hadn’t left were pointing their mobile phones in this direction. He didn’t want the upcoming time to be interrupted.

Johann looked at him with a serious expression.

“How about hamburgers?”

“What? Hahaha! How about pizza?”

“Pizza…?”

“…Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t tried it yet? What about chicken? Good heavens. What on earth have you been eating all this time?”

‘That’s right. Why haven’t I tried them?’

Pizza and chicken that he had really wanted to try when he was in the Rocky Mountains forest.

‘I thought I would definitely try them when I went outside…’

He ended up eating lobster and tacos first, which had been lower priorities.

Johann couldn’t help but be flustered by that forgotten resolution from back then.

 

* * *

 

-Johann. A-are you with Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page right now?

“Yeah, Larry. I came to eat chicken.”

There wasn’t a place that sold both pizza and chicken, but since pizza could be delivered, he decided to eat that with Larry and came to eat chicken.

“How did you know? Did Rick tell you?”

Manager Rick Bottom who had been watching over them from a step away since they went to Smithington’s Studio.

-Th-that’s part of it… Are you okay? You don’t seem sick, do you?

“Not at all.”

-…When will you come back?

“I’m not sure.”

Bruno Mars who taught him about the good thing called busking today. He thought he’d probably stay until he was satisfied, as he was currently on the verge of fainting.

‘I don’t want to miss this moment either.’

It was a gathering not only with Joe Walsh but also with Jimmy Page, who was called one of the world’s top 5 guitarists.

It would be an incredible experience.

-I-is that so? Ah, I understand. Do you need to come home early?

“Yeah. I’ll contact you if I’m going to be late.”

Johann, who ended the call, headed toward the table.

“Hahaha! This friend’s got his head screwed on tight!”

“Haha. No, sir.”

Bruno Mars picked up his beer glass with trembling hands, and Johann looked at him with concern.

“Are you okay, Gene?”

“…I think I could die right now without any regrets.”

“You can’t die yet.”

He hadn’t recovered the money Larry invested. He had to die after that, if at all.

“You’re strangely cynical, Little Jefferson.”

“I’m a bit… Oh, sorry. I was talking to my guardian.”

“Not at all. Of course you should.”

How nice it would be if their own children would contact them when they went somewhere.

“More than that…”

There were so many things he wanted to ask. So very many.

Jimmy Page voiced the first question that came to mind.

“How do you know those songs?”

Even though he’d heard from the middle, he’d listened to almost 10 songs, and more than half of them were old songs. From Led Zeppelin that he belonged to, to John Denver, Metallica, Deep Purple, and finally Eagles’ Hotel California.

They were all singers who were active before Johann was born, and songs that came out in the world.

“Well. I tend not to forget things I’ve seen and heard once.”

It was all thanks to Joe Walsh.

‘Eagles, Joseph Fiddler Walsh’ had practiced most songs in the rock category to the point where he could perform them even if woken up from sleep.

“Oh…”

A genius he’d only heard about in words.

The three men were momentarily speechless.

“…You know what, Jimmy? My young fan has been playing guitar for less than 3 months.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“That’s right. But no.”

“See?”

“It hasn’t even been a month.”

Even Joe Walsh and Bruno Mars looked at Johann in surprise.

“…May I see your hands?”

“Here, Mr. Page.”

‘There are many calluses.’

But they weren’t calluses formed from guitar playing.

‘And yet such performance is possible?’

Jimmy Page realized. The child before his eyes was an apostle sent down by the god of rock in heaven.

An unreasonable existence that occasionally appeared in the world.

“…If you don’t have a fan, I’d like to become your number one fan. Could you give me an autograph?”

“Huh? Oh, of course. But you’re not the number one fan.”

The number one fan was Emily.

“But this is the number one autograph.”

“What?!”

“Oh! What an honor!”

“W-wait. If that’s the case, I should get it first!”

“Too late, you nasty old geezer.”

Johann looked at the two bickering again and furrowed his brow.

“Um. I’ll give autographs to both of you at the same time, so can’t we eat the chicken first?”

The savory oil smell that had been stimulating his nose since sitting at the table was driving him crazy.

“Oh! Yes, yes. Go ahead and eat.”

“Thank you.”

‘The legs would be tough…’

The legs were tough on any animal.

He picked up a wing piece and brought it to his mouth.

Crunch!

“…Good heavens.”

Johann’s time stopped as he took a bite.

The crispy, oil-soaked savory batter that crumbled in his mouth and the tender, salty meat that chewed softly.

The more he chewed, the more the unique taste of chicken filled his mouth greatly.

It quickly melted and disappeared.

“This is… chicken?”

It was a different quality from the chicken soup he ate at the hospital.

A violent taste that made him unable to even remember what the chicken soup tasted like.

Meat that wouldn’t be strange to stand shoulder to shoulder with beef and pork, which had been the most delicious meat in the world that he’d tried since coming to LA.

‘It’s unfair.’

Why am I only eating this now?

Johann, suddenly feeling sorrowful, took another big bite of the meat.

A piece of chicken disappearing in an instant.

The three who had been tilting their beer bottles stare blankly at Johann devouring the chicken so deliciously.

Jimmy Page found himself speaking without realizing it.

“Kid, I’ll let you eat even more delicious things, so why don’t you come to grandpa’s house?”

It was a somewhat dangerous statement.

 

* * *

 

After finishing their meal, they moved to Joe Walsh’s mansion. They had no choice but to move since people were starting to recognize them.

“Breathe. You’re really going to die at this rate.”

“Now I truly have no regrets…”

“I told you not to die.”

Joe Walsh subtly glances at Johann, who remains mature even in this moment.

“Little fan. Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“…Ah, you used it well?”

Your talent. Your experience.

“Uhahahaha! Let’s go! To my studio!”

“Huh?!”

The studio of a singer who dominated an era.

Johann blinks as he catches sight of Bruno Mars, whose body stirred for a moment.

‘I know everything.’

Where everything is, even the cigarette butts under the drums.

 

“My God! This guitar! This piano?!”

Joe Walsh turns his gaze from Bruno Mars, whose eyes had gone wild, to look at Johann.

“How is it? Do you like it?”

“…Yes.”

I was wrong.

I thought I knew everything, but I didn’t.

The moment I opened the door to the spacious studio and stepped inside, I felt the warm heat, no, the traces of passion.

Guitars, electric pianos, grand pianos, drums, and countless other instruments tempting me to touch them.

The wind sneaking in through the open window caresses the instruments, carefully selecting sounds to steal away.

“All the sounds in the world are gathered here.”

“…Puhahahaha!”

Jimmy Page breaks into a warm smile.

This young genius who says only pleasing words, one after another.

Then suddenly he feels mischievous.

“You don’t need to force yourself to compliment that old man. It’s not really all the sounds in the world.”

“Even if something’s missing, this is enough.”

Johann’s action of tapping his lips forces the mischief away. Laughter just bursts out.

‘This child was born to be a singer.’

He really seems like a child sent by the god of rock, no, the god of music.

“This won’t do. Kid, want to play a game with these old men? Will your friend join us too?”

“A game?”

“You create one line of a riff, and we’ll continue building on it.”

Then create the next riff, and make one song that way.

“Ah, that kind of game.”

I know this game. It’s something that not just Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page, but anyone who can play guitar, or rather, handle instruments, does.

“Gene, are you ready?”

“…Anytime.”

This is a place with legends. He couldn’t show a foolish side after coming this far.

As Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page are surprised by the passion emanating from his serious body, Johann grins playfully.

“You’ll probably be amazed when you see Gene’s skills.”

“Jo, Johann!”

“I already know that. A voice overflowing with soul like that isn’t common.”

Bruno Mars’s breath stops.

“But did you know he could play guitar too? He seemed hopeless earlier.”

“…I can handle the piano a bit.”

“Good. Come in anytime. Let’s play together.”

When Joe Walsh signals with his eyes asking if they’re ready, Johann looks at the guitars hanging on the wall.

“Can I borrow a guitar?”

“Of course!”

Johann quickly runs over and brings back one guitar.

One of Joe Walsh’s cherished guitars.

‘If we’re going to play this game, electric is better!’

‘How does he know that one’s good too!’

Joe Walsh watches Johann plug in the jack with satisfaction.

And then…

“Whew.”

‘What should I do? …Ah, that would be good.’

Johann closes his eyes, opens them, and recalls Saturday’s events.

The first baseball game he ever experienced.

From the moment he felt like a god facing the motionless batter to the disappointing tie game result.

‘I melted these emotions into composing Young Wolves, but…’

How will they interpret these emotions?

Curiosity arises.

As he absorbs ‘Eagles, Joseph Fiddler Walsh,’ those emotions once again consume his entire body.

Johann grips the pick and strikes the guitar strings, pouring those emotions into it.

-!

An intense sound that tears through the ears and penetrates deep into the chest.

“Oh, crazy God…”

At just one phrase, no, less than half of that guitar sound, all the old white hairs begin to stand on end.

Bruno Mars, who had been excitedly walking toward the piano, also looked at Johann in surprise.

And then…

Zing!

Johann and Bruno Mars look at Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page in shock.

Their hands now resting on guitars.

Two guitars emitting shivers.

‘Now I understand why they’re called great guitarists.’

Thanks to ‘Eagles, Joseph Fiddler Walsh,’ I can feel it even more clearly.

Their hands, playfully and lightly stirring, were commanding reverence.

 

* * *

 

“No one will believe it.”

Late afternoon as the sun sets, in front of the Team Smithingtons studio building.

Bruno Mars, who had to leave at such an early time because of Johann who is still only 11 years old, mutters while carefully holding the guitar he received as a gift from Joe Walsh, which Jimmy Page had stolen from Joe Walsh to give as a gift.

A single song created in an instant, starting with Johann’s arrogant and conceited guitar riff.

Though it needed additional sessions and refinement, the framework created today was already worthy of being called a masterpiece. Something you’d want to listen to every day.

But that wasn’t all.

Whether inspired or struck by genius, Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page began competing with each other in guitar playing.

He had witnessed that scene up close, right in front of him.

A performance by two masters that couldn’t be seen anywhere else in the world.

What drove him even crazier was that he had played and sung together with them at that very scene.

It felt like the musical world he had built up until now had expanded.

‘Make sure to give me a copy when the album comes out! Future top star!’

Their words still rang in his ears.

“Get home safely, Gene.”

“Y-yeah. Right. See you tomorrow!”

Vrooom!

‘How much better will that child be tomorrow?’

“…I can’t lose.”

To that young genius.

To that unreasonable existence.

Because his own talent wasn’t lacking either.

Bruno Mars clenched his fist and headed up to the studio.

 

* * *

 

Joe Walsh’s mansion had become quiet after Johann and Bruno Mars left.

Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page, each holding a beer in one hand, suddenly burst into hollow laughter.

“Time flies so fast.”

“It’s cruel.”

Johann, a young fan who was like a carbon copy of their younger selves, or even better in some aspects, and Bruno Mars, a young man with immeasurable talent.

The soulful voice and piano performance still echoed in their ears.

That’s why they were irritated.

They were angry.

At their fingers that couldn’t keep up with the young men’s youth.

At their ears that could no longer catch all of their passion.

At their bodies that could no longer stand for long periods.

The years that had flowed by so fleetingly, their aged souls were so cruel.

Today’s performance was just the desperate struggle of old men covered by experience, the ugly behavior of old men who envied those they had invited to enjoy themselves.

“No… No, that’s not right!”

“Right! Of course not!”

Should they blame themselves for their jealous hearts and just drink beer?

No. They weren’t dead yet.

Though rusty, they still had fingers to play guitar, and though old and weak, the spark of passion still remained in their hearts.

“How about it?”

Creating a song together as colleagues who felt the same emotions.

Sublimating today’s events, these feelings into a song.

“…We’ll need to invite some young friends.”

How many people would be enthusiastic about old men’s hoarse voices?

They needed to clear away the prejudices in their heads first.

They would probably need to meet people from various genres.

“That’s a good idea.”

They didn’t know how long it would take until the album was released.

But they didn’t think about failure. Even if they failed, challenging was the spirit of rock.

And so, in a house somewhere in LA, the legends of rock began to stretch their wings.

 

Meanwhile, Johann ran and ran until he arrived home.

When he opened the front door and entered, Larry and Ada, who had been standing in the living room, quickly approached him.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“Phew…”

Larry and Ada let out sighs of relief and raised the corners of their mouths.

“Did you have fun today?”

“How were Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page? Nothing happened, right?”

He wasn’t sure about Joe Walsh, but Jimmy Page had some controversy in his personal life.

“Mm. Nothing happened.”

They had just had a lot of fun.

So much fun that it was regrettable he hadn’t thought to take photos or make a bookmark.

“I got a present too.”

Johann held out the signed electric guitar that Jimmy Page had forcibly taken from Joe Walsh and given as a gift, just like he had done with Bruno Mars.

Rick Bottom had been carefully managing it like a treasure chest until just moments ago.

“Oh, really? That’s good. You must be tired. Go upstairs and rest.”

“Larry?”

“You must have had a lot happen today. Johann needs to rest too.”

It wouldn’t be too late to ask tomorrow. Johann quietly watched Larry comforting Ada with those words.

“Larry.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to eat pizza.”

And he wanted to talk about what happened today. Sitting on the sofa like yesterday.

“Oh…”

Joy spread across Larry’s face.

 

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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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