Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 50

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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 50

 

 

In an instant, time stops at the baseball field.

The ball that struck the wide-eyed First Batter directly in the neck and bounced away, and the First Batter who collapsed. A helmet rolling on the ground.

‘Huh?’

Flash, who had lost his mind, stares blankly at the First Batter lying next to him, writhing in pain.

“Uh…”

What just happened?

Why is he gasping for breath with his eyes rolled back?

His mind, frozen stiff from experiencing this situation for the first time, slowly begins to thaw.

Then the first thought that comes to mind.

“Doc, Doctor-!”

Doctor call.

The game is temporarily suspended.

 

* * *

 

“Uh, ugh…”

“Eden! Are you conscious?!”

The Heritage Oak Coach slaps the First Batter’s cheek.

The First Batter gradually regains consciousness.

“Co, Coach…?”

“Oh, God.”

Fortunately, he came to his senses.

“How many is this! Do you remember what just happened?!”

“Just now… what? Definitely… the ball came flying at my head… ugh?!”

“You need to stop.”

When the Paramedic intervenes, the Heritage Oak Coach steps back and looks at the reddening neck.

“That bastard…!”

The neck. The neck that the helmet couldn’t protect.

He almost died.

And that nonchalantly surprised expression he made earlier.

‘A guy like that shouldn’t be playing baseball!’

The Coach turns around grinding his teeth and freezes.

Among the Little Puma players approaching to comfort him, Johann kneeling with a dazed expression.

His heated head becomes confused.

‘Did, did I see it wrong?’

It seems like that’s the case.

“…Tsk. Just comfort him.”

“I hope he’s not badly hurt.”

Little Puma’s Manager Bob Lee Swagger heads toward Johann.

The Umpire and Flash follow behind him.

“The, the ball slipped from my hand! Really!”

“…Are you okay, Johann?”

“I, I…”

“Should I substitute you?”

“…No. I’ll continue.”

“Alright. Tell me anytime if it gets tough.”

“I’m sorry.”

As Bob Lee Swagger and the players pat Johann’s shoulder and turn away, the Umpire also sighs.

“That’s a warning. Be careful from now on.”

Johann nods instead of answering.

As even the Umpire returns to his original position, Flash, who remained, looks at Johann with narrowed eyes.

Then he chuckles.

“Johann, next time aim for the ankle.”

“…Which side?”

“Keke. You’re really crazy.”

As expected. That expression just now was acting.

This is Johann who tried to kill him on his first day of transfer, who would have put a hole in his body if Emily hadn’t urgently stopped him.

What he said earlier about killing with baseball literally meant he would kill with a baseball.

Normally Flash would hate this kind of thing that goes against sportsmanship, but today he could tolerate it completely.

Those who touched what shouldn’t be touched.

‘How dare they think of us, of Emily in such a way!’

Fire burns in Flash’s eyes too.

‘But so that was actually possible.’

During the game against Alessandro Hawks, Johann said hitting the neck or wrist would make it look more like a mistake. That was actually possible.

It was truly insane control.

“The neck could really kill someone, so from now on don’t throw at the neck and throw where I tell you to.”

“…Yeah.”

Unfortunately, it seems he should listen to Flash.

‘If I keep throwing at the neck, I’ll get caught.’

He might be restricted from playing games for a while.

As Flash taps his chest with his glove and turns toward home plate, Johann glances at Emily.

She draws her thumb across her throat. Emily also noticed that the expression just now was acting.

“Johann, fighting-!”

“…That’s right! It was a mistake! It’s okay!”

“Johann! Johann!”

Johann smiles at the people cheering for him, and as the game resumes with the Umpire’s call, he raises his glove.

‘The maximum number of balls I can throw from now on is… hmm. I can’t calculate well.’

‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’ is weak with numbers.

He sent one guy away, but anyway, more will be added to replace the one who left. Every single one of them insulted Emily, Joy, and Lucy, and looked down on Little Puma.

He had to torment them as much as possible for 3 innings.

With that determination, Johann looks at Flash’s sign and goes into his windup.

And…

“Ahhh!”

‘Oh, he dodged?’

He dodged it. His athletic ability is pretty good.

‘If it were in the forest, I would have anticipated the dodge and immediately thrown the next one.’

It’s a bit frustrating that he can only throw one ball at a time.

Then there’s one answer – throw while considering the dodge.

‘I confirmed the distance and position he stepped back just now…’

“Johann-!”

Johann looked at Flash.

 

* * *

 

“Shit!”

The Second Batter, startled by the wild pitch, steps back.

Then the ball grazes past where his ankle had been just moments before.

The Second Batter who urgently looked at Johann freezes up.

‘That, that bastard?’

There’s no wavering in his eyes.

‘It, it wasn’t a wild pitch?’

Chills!

It’s certain. It wasn’t a wild pitch.

No, that guy is a criminal.

Those same empty and cold eyes as the mass shooter he once saw on the news.

A boy he’s seeing for the first time today, with those exact same eyes, is trying to shatter his ankle.

‘Wh, why the hell?’

“You should have kept your mouth shut.”

“What, what did you say?”

“Hurry up and get in the batter’s box, you bastard. You’re just wasting time.”

“Hey, you guys!”

“Sorry.”

Flash, who apologized, holds up his mitt and opens his mouth wide.

“Johann-!”

Right here.

“What are you doing! Hurry up and stand!”

At Flash’s urging, the Second Batter looks at the Manager.

The Manager glares at him. With an expression that says he won’t let it slide if he delays any longer, the Second Batter’s face turns pale.

‘I’m really going to die!’

“Da, damn it!”

As the Second Batter steps into the batter’s box, Johann goes into his windup.

And the ball is thrown hard.

Whoosh!

At the vicious sound cutting through the air, the Second Batter squeezes his eyes shut and throws his body backward.

Thwack!

‘…Huh?’

“What, what are you doing-!”

At the Manager’s furious shout, the Second Batter who barely opened his eyes after falling on his butt stares blankly at Flash, who’s holding his mitt straight out in front.

Flash, meeting his gaze, gets up and approaches him, extending his hand. Then he moves his lips.

“I’ll tell you what you guys need to do from now on. Stand in the batter’s box. Then tremble in fear, strike out, and get out. Just try swinging the bat. I’ll kill you.”

“Cr, crazy bastards.”

It’s not just the pitcher. Both the pitcher and catcher are trying to kill them.

“You mocked my friends like that and didn’t expect this much, young master?”

“What?”

‘No, no way?’

Horrified, he looks at the Emilys.

“Hurry up, strike out and get lost. And tell your friends.”

That demons have descended here today, and if they carelessly run their mouths about anything other than apologies, they’ll break their necks.

The Second Batter could only turn pale at the threat from Flash, Fairmont School’s tyrant.

 

* * *

 

Thwack! Thwack!

“Hey, you bastards! Swing! Swing-!”

“….”

“Waaaaah!”

The frustrated shouts of Heritage Oak’s Manager and the silence of Heritage Oak players’ families.

And in contrast, the cheers from Fairmont Little Pumas players’ families at the succession of powerful pitches and strikeouts.

“Johann’s control doesn’t seem to be working well today.”

“That’s right.”

In the previous exhibition game, Johann threw at most 3 balls per batter. But now the minimum is 3.

“He must be troubled by that incident earlier.”

‘His control isn’t working?’

“No way!”

He’s doing that on purpose. He’s angry about something, and that’s why he’s tormenting the batters.

Even if the first pitch that hit the neck was a wild pitch, the throw aimed at the ankle was definitely not a wild pitch. The razor-sharp control that followed proves it.

Insane control as if he divided the strike zone into 18 parts.

Velocity easily exceeding 80 mph and ball movement that looks like a living snake flying through the air despite being a fastball.

Even though sidearm is relatively easy to attack because it approaches in a parallel trajectory from far outside, with that kind of ball movement it’s nothing short of a nightmare.

So someone’s presence wafts over strongly.

‘Dennis Eckersley?’

The first one-inning closer, Dennis Eckersley.

Is this what he would look like if he went back to the past?

Plus the psychological warfare and management ability to instill fear with inside pitches up to the fifth batter while occasionally walking batters.

“This isn’t Little League level.”

A level you’d believe even if told he was a professional player.

“Out-! Change!”

‘I wonder how his batting will be?’

The Elderly Fat Man in His 60s crossed his arms while watching Johann, who made eye contact with him as he entered the dugout.

 

* * *

 

‘That old man?’

Johann blinks.

A presence from ‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’s’ memories.

‘I think that’s right…’

“Johann.”

“Ah, yes.”

Johann looks at Bob Lee Swagger.

“Flash.”

“Yes, Manager!”

‘…As expected, we got caught.’

His face stiffened.

Johann and Flash close their eyes first, anticipating the scolding to come.

“Well done.”

“…Yes?”

“There’s no reason to let bastards who insult friends and teammates live.”

If the two had been timid, he would have scolded them.

‘Oh.’

“However, you must not throw balls at their heads.”

That ball that seemed to hit the neck while aiming for the head. That’s unacceptable under any circumstances.

“Yes!”

“…Good. Then I’ll change the batting order. Johann!”

“Yes!”

“Today you’re the First Batter. Go out there and shake them up more. No, destroy them!”

Their mental state.

So they can never recover for the duration of today’s game.

Even if Johann just hits a single, Heritage Oak’s mental state will crumble like a cookie.

“…Yes!”

Johann quickly changes his shoes, puts on the glove Flash gave him, and leaves the dugout while looking again at the old man he had just made eye contact with.

‘I was right after all.’

Whoosh!

Johann stands in the on-deck circle, swinging his bat while lost in thought.

‘Hmm. Should I use that person?’

The manager gave him a mission to destroy them.

His current dynamic visual acuity is sufficient to destroy them, but since this is the first time he’s been asked to do something, it would be good to do it properly.

Johann closes his eyes and enters the library.

‘Search. Jim Fregosi.’

A star player who was with the Angels from their founding, selected as an All-Star 6 times total, a shortstop with a retired number, the eternal number 11

‘Bigger than Dennis Eckersley?’

An orb about two fists larger than ‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’.

Johann, who had been amazed, soon takes out ‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’ and ‘Boy’ and inserts him.

Feeling his body change from head to toe, he realizes why his orb was bigger than Dennis Eckersley’s.

‘He’s someone who devoted his entire life to baseball.’

From the moment he first held a bat as a child until now.

A person who lived only for baseball, only within the world of baseball.

‘Could I ever be like this?’

Johann opens his eyes and heads to the batter’s box, looking at him—’Angels’ number 11, James Lewis Fregosi’—with respectful eyes.

Both hands unconsciously fidgeting with the bat handle.

“You, you bastard. You came?”

‘What’s this?’

Johann’s eyes tremble as he stands in the batter’s box.

‘What is this?’

Suddenly he can see it.

The gaps in Heritage Oak, paralyzed with fear.

Where he should hit the ball to make their defense collapse.

Without consciously trying to look for it, it just gets etched in his mind like a drawing. Where they’re weak, where they’re strong. It reads naturally.

‘This is probably….’

‘Angels’ number 11, James Lewis Fregosi’s’ managerial perspective.

‘…Interesting.’

After the umpire’s call signaling the start of the game, Heritage Oak’s pitcher gets into his pitching stance.

A face distorted more with anger than fear.

“You’re dead.”

It was the moment when the pitcher, who had moved his lips in the windup position and said the same thing as the catcher, took a big step forward and threw the ball.

“Aaah!”

“Ah!”

People in the stands screaming at the strange trajectory.

Johann also watches the ball flying toward his head.

‘Revenge?’

It seems they still do what they have to do even when scared.

But….

Swoosh!

‘It’s far off.’

The ball completely missed the back of his head.

Thud!

Johann, who had even lowered his bat and turned his body following the ball, watches the ball hit the back wall and roll on the ground, then extends his hand toward the Little Puma players who are about to rush out to calm them down.

“Heh, hehe. How about it? Don’t you feel like you’re going to piss yourself?”

Johann looks at the catcher who’s smiling nastily, then looks at the umpire.

“You heard that, right?”

“Stop! Catcher and pitcher warning! Ball count plus! Two balls!”

“Huh?! Wh-where is there such a thing!”

“Do you want to forfeit the game for intentional intimidation?”

“….”

The catcher who bit his lip ultimately had no choice but to sit down, and Johann moves his lips toward the pitcher with a scrunched face.

‘Idiot. Loser.’

“Ugh!”

The enraged pitcher tries to charge forward but stops at the umpire’s glaring eyes.

Johann swings his bat a few times as if sweeping home plate, then gets into batting stance, and the pitcher, grinding his teeth at the forced continuation of the game, gets into pitching position.

Whoosh!

About 65 mph velocity crossing the center of the zone. It’s faster than the County League’s average velocity, but to Johann it’s so bland he can barely feel any power.

‘Hmm. Should I exploit the gaps?’

Gaps visible everywhere.

‘No.’

It’s bothersome.

Even if he did that, it would just be getting on base. There are plenty of ways to shake things up after getting on base, but he can do that anytime later.

Right now was the moment to overwhelmingly crush them, to shatter Heritage Oak’s mental state.

Swoosh!

‘As expected.’

Johann swung his bat toward the ball flying in a gentle trajectory, toward a ball that was at least 10 mph slower than the previous one.

Crack!

‘Home run.’

He realizes it the moment he hits it.

The bat that felt like hitting a feather with no impact sensation at all, and the ball flying as if piercing through the sky.

The pitcher frantically turning his head, despair creeping in, and the fielder who chased after it then stopped.

This had to be a home run.

His first home run in life.

Johann flips his bat up into the sky and runs slowly, whispering to the first baseman standing there dazed.

“Coward bastards.”

“Ugh!”

“Try throwing another beanball. Next time I’ll break your wrist.”

“Kugh!”

Tap!

Johann lands on home plate with both feet and briefly looks at the Heritage Oak players.

The scene of his first home run in life.

‘Not bad.’

As ‘Angels’ number 11, James Lewis Fregosi’, he had seen this scene hundreds of times, but since this was his first time, his whole body was tingling.

Johann twists his lips and heads to the dugout, and the Little Puma players rush over and pat Johann’s head and back.

“Waaaaaaah!”

“You’re crazy! You’re a madman-!”

Perfect revenge.

The Little Puma players had no choice but to go wild.

After a long celebration time passed, Johann calls over the third and fourth batters waiting in the on-deck circle, and Flash. Then he shares what he had read.

“That pitcher, if his glove is on his thigh before his pitching stance, it’s a fastball.”

A fastball with little movement that’s easy to attack.

“…Huh?”

“If he puts his glove on his stomach, it’s a breaking ball. The velocity difference is about 8 mph. The breaking ball has little drop too, so it’s easy to attack.”

There are too many other habits to identify the pitcher’s pitch types, but for now, these two give the most time to prepare.

“The second baseman, center fielder, and right fielder are all sluggish, so you can aim between first and second base or go for long hits. And since the catcher’s mental game is weak, if you shake him up with some trash talk…”

The children’s mouths fell open at Johann’s rapid-fire stream of words.

 

* * *

 

Little Puma’s third batter, originally second in the order but pushed down when Johann became first, swings his bat and steps into the batter’s box.

‘Look at those eyes.’

The Heritage Oak pitcher, who walked the original first batter now batting second because of Johann’s solo home run.

Perhaps because the manager was screaming like a mad dog, his flat nose and narrow eyes—true to the team name like an orc—glare menacingly.

‘But… Johann is scarier.’

That wild pitch from before. He definitely threw that on purpose.

‘There’s no way the Wolf Boy would be that surprised about hitting just one person!’

It’s easy to forget because he’s so calm and well-spoken, but Johann is a child who lived with wild beasts. A child on a completely different level from those who lived in the city.

There’s only one reason why such a child would send someone a message under the guise of a wild pitch.

‘It’s all because of us!’

He played the villain for their sake, since they couldn’t say a word in protest to Heritage Oak.

He couldn’t just ignore Johann’s sacrifice like this.

‘Thigh means fastball, right?’

The glove happens to be positioned at the thigh.

Windup. The foot steps forward and the arm swings in a three-quarter motion.

“Hup!”

Gritting his teeth, he swung the bat toward the ball that instantly approached home plate.

Crack!

“…Huh?”

Home run.

The boy stared blankly at the ball flying far away.

 

* * *

 

Crack! Bang!

“Eden! What are you doing!”

“Oh, my God! This is a nightmare!”

“B-but we definitely won overwhelmingly last year?”

Six runs given up in just the first inning.

And it’s still ongoing.

Despair settles not only over the Heritage players and dugout, but also the stands.

‘I don’t need to see any more.’

Whether by coincidence or not, his routine and old-school batting stance are exactly like his own playing days.

Not only that, but after the solo home run, he seemed to say something to the next batters, and then Little Puma’s bats caught fire.

They attack the same spots every time.

‘He must have found Heritage Oak’s weaknesses.’

In that brief moment of seeing just three pitches, he spotted everything from the pitcher’s habits to the weakness of the right-side players.

‘That kind of pitching, that kind of batting, and even that kind of vision?’

Even though it’s just Little League, this shouldn’t be possible.

A monster has appeared in the baseball world.

“It’s a shame he’s not sixteen.”

If he were sixteen, he would have called him up to the Major League immediately—a monster, no, a hulk.

Jim Fregosi stood up and headed toward Johann, who was waiting for his next at-bat.

Contact possible only because it’s Little League. People are stirred by his sudden appearance, but he doesn’t care.

“Nice to meet you, kid. I’m Jim Fregosi, temporarily in charge of scouting for California West. I’d like to scout you for California West—are you interested?”

California West, one of the Little League Major teams, an all-star team organized to advance to the Little World Series.

He had come to scout Johann after receiving a recommendation from an LA Dodgers scout who had recently watched a friendly match against Alessandro Hawks.

“…Wow.”

Johann’s and everyone’s mouths fell open.

 

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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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