Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 63

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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 63

 

 

”Are you ready, Ada?”

“Not yet! Wait!”

On this early Sunday morning, Ada and Larry bustle about after finishing their first meetings with companies.

“Anything is fine though…”

“Be quiet.”

Ada dismisses Johann’s protest and deliberates between two bow ties of different colors before finally choosing one.

“Right. Since this is our first formal meeting, blue would be safe. You think so too, don’t you, Johann?”

“Yeah.”

I just wish this would end quickly.

Going down to the first floor, Larry is also dressed smartly in a suit.

Larry trembles with excitement upon seeing Johann in his children’s suit.

“Wow! Johann, to think you’re going to receive lessons from Mr. Salonen!”

That’s right. Today is the day Johann will receive his first lesson from Esa-Pekka Salonen.

“Let’s go!”

“Yeah.”

The three quickly get in the car.

Unlike the other two who can’t hide their excitement, Johann is lost in thought.

He recalls what happened two days ago.

The suddenly increased capacity limit.

‘It must be because of that feeling of expansion back then, right?’

A conclusion he barely reached after two days of contemplation.

The expansion of something he felt in Bruno Mars’ studio, the expansion of his musical perspective seems to have increased his capacity limit.

‘At this level…’

In numbers, about 160.

In just about three months since coming down from the forest, his capacity limit has increased by a whopping 60 percent.

‘It’s still difficult to simultaneously absorb someone like Ines de Fressange, but…’

That too will come soon.

Johann once again thinks he made the right choice coming down from the forest, looking at Esa-Pekka Salonen’s mansion drawing near.

Esa-Pekka Salonen, who lives near Larry’s house.

‘What will he teach me?’

What kind of experience will I have?

Johann’s eyes sparkled as he watched the door opening.

 

“Welcome. Please come in.”

A large mansion with classical music playing loudly.

‘What piece is this?’

Esa-Pekka Salonen, wearing jeans and a thin knit sweater, greets them with a warm smile, and Johann, who had been blinking at the classical music, makes eye contact with a girl his age standing beside him.

“Haha. This is my daughter. Sophia?”

“Hmph. Hello.”

Sophia Salonen.

Johann introduces himself, slightly puzzled by her seemingly angry appearance.

“Hello. Johann Jefferson, 11 years old. You?”

“13 years old. I’m your older sister.”

“Okay.”

‘Ugh!’

Sophia frowns at Johann’s nonchalant attitude, and Larry and Ada, who find her cute, speak up.

“Hello. I’m Larry Jefferson, Johann’s guardian.”

“I’m Ada Wong.”

“Thank you for entrusting your child to me. I’m Esa-Pekka Salonen.”

The three begin conversing.

Sophia turns her gaze away from them and glares at Johann.

‘…What is he looking at?’

Her father Esa-Pekka Salonen was a conductor of the London Philharmonia Orchestra. Even infinite respect wouldn’t be enough, yet this boy is audaciously looking elsewhere.

Following his gaze, Sophia scrunches up her face.

‘Could it be… he’s listening to that piece playing right now?’

Ba-ba-bam!

The lively classical music resonating throughout the mansion.

Just as she’s about to become more irritated, Esa-Pekka Salonen notices something and looks at Johann with sparkling eyes.

“Oh. How is it? What do you feel from this piece?”

‘It’s Strauss.’

‘The tragic composer, Josef Strauss’ – I can feel him.

Of course I can.

‘That’s what I recorded and uploaded yesterday.’

‘The tragic composer, Josef Strauss’s’ unreleased piece ‘Dancing Street Cleaner.’

A piece he composed while reminiscing about the street cleaners who joyfully clasped their hands together when he, as an engineer and inventor before becoming a conductor, created a street-cleaning carriage at the request of Vienna City Hall.

But I can’t just recite all that.

“Um… cleaning?”

“Cl-cleaning?”

“It sounds like scrubbing and cleaning.”

“…My goodness.”

“Is, is that correct?”

“Yes. That’s right. The piece is called Dancing Street Cleaner.”

The genre is polka. A lively dance tune.

“Haha. To get this right…”

Absolute pitch, which allows one to identify all the notes in a song, is surprisingly common.

The talent to memorize and play a song after hearing it once is rare but exists. However, the talent to read even the imagery of a song after hearing it once is so extremely rare that it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it’s born once every ten years.

Johann was someone born with all three of these talents.

‘And all such beings…’

Have left indelible marks in history.

Now even the word ‘monster’ seems laughable.

Wonder.

That’s what he felt from Johann.

‘Ugh!’

Sophia clenched her fists upon seeing her father’s face.

 

* * *

 

Larry and Ada left with words of gratitude.

“This is the instrument room.”

“Oh!”

The first impression upon opening the door was: dry.

A space like a large vault.

Twenty instruments contained in transparent cases.

Johann closes and opens his eyes, showing curiosity.

‘They’re all masterpiece instruments.’

I can tell without even playing them.

Each one is a masterpiece instrument worth at least $100,000.

‘Great master, Nicolao Amati’ was saying that.

Johann, who closed and opened his eyes again, looks at Esa-Pekka Salonen.

“Do conductors need instruments too?”

“Need…”

“Of course they’re needed!”

There are sounds that can’t be conveyed through speakers.

To tune one’s ears, these kinds of instruments were essential.

A conductor must be a perfect being.

“Before going to work, I must perfectly tune my ears and then go to work to be able to move the orchestra members according to my will!”

“…Sophia.”

“Tch! I got it.”

“Ah.”

‘Come to think of it, Johann II, Josef, and Eduard all had instrument rooms like this, right?’

That seemed to be what it meant.

Esa-Pekka Salonen, who apologized with his eyes, smiles warmly.

“And all of these are instruments for you to use.”

“For me? …These things?”

Violin, viola, cello, contrabass, flute, oboe, clarinet, trumpet – there are eight types of instruments alone.

Esa-Pekka Salonen kneels on one knee and takes Johann’s right hand.

“How long has it been since you picked up the violin?”

“Hmm. A month? I haven’t practiced much though.”

Flinch!

A practice period incomparably shorter than expected.

“That’s impossible!”

It’s a lie.

That boy is lying now to win Father’s favor.

“Sophia Salonen. If you’re going to keep interfering, go to your room.”

“Father!”

“Shh!”

Sophia had no choice but to close her mouth, and Esa-Pekka Salonen, who sighed, brought up what he was going to say.

“Then you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“…You’re saying my talent might not be limited to just violin.”

“That’s right.”

Violin is flashy, true.

But that doesn’t mean the other instruments are unnecessary.

No, there are pieces where cello, viola, flute, or harp take center stage, so you can’t say which instrument is most important.

“The same goes for this piano.”

Next to the instrument room, a black piano sitting alone in a high and spacious room.

“There’s a saying that classical music is divided into before and after the appearance of the piano.”

The piano that countless musicians, starting with Mozart, began using in earnest.

That’s why it was given the title of king of instruments.

“Hmm.”

‘That’s true.’

Before Mozart’s generation, what was mainly used was a keyboard instrument called the harpsichord. Even Mozart, called a musical prodigy, used such harpsichords before encountering the piano, which greatly broadened his musical perspective.

“Steinway…”

Number 998.

“It’s an early model of Steinway piano.”

A work made in the late 1850s before Steinway moved to Park Avenue and 53rd Street, built a new factory to improve productivity, and became quite a successful company by exclusively hiring about three hundred technicians.

“Shouldn’t something like that be in a museum?”

“Museums do contact me every New Year.”

But he couldn’t give up such a treasure.

“Try playing it once.”

“Hmm?”

‘He wants to check what other instrumental talents I might have. Hmm, what should I do?’

Whether to use it here or not.

‘No.’

That’s not even worth considering.

This too is experience.

Johann, who smiled slyly, quickly sat in front of the piano and closed and opened his eyes.

He places his hands on the keys.

‘Josef II…’

Josef II, who loved his elder uncle, younger uncle, and father so much that he had to play the pieces they composed and arranged on instruments to feel satisfied, or rather, that was the only joy in his life.

‘Since the piano was too big and I had no place to practice, I didn’t play it many times, but…’

Still, it would be enough to show the depth of his talent.

 

* * *

 

‘Was he always like this?’

At Donati & Michelle, Johann was upright and sharp, like looking at an office worker or a soldier.

But now his presence is hazy, as if he’s there but not there.

‘Hm?’

Suddenly the atmosphere changes.

He becomes sharp again like what was seen at Donati & Michelle.

Ta ta ta-tan ta-tan! Ta-tan!

“…The Blue Danube Waltz?”

A piece that was once called the second national anthem of the Austro-Hungarian Empire after the official national anthem, the Emperor’s Hymn, and a cheerful yet patriotic piece created to comfort the Austrian people who were depressed by their defeat in the war against Prussia in 1866.

One of the world’s famous waltz pieces.

This too is a piece by Johann Strauss II.

Esa-Pekka Salonen couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘He really likes the Waltz King.’

And he seems to have talent for piano too.

Certainly he’s clumsy as if he hasn’t played piano many times.

It could be because of his short fingers, or he really might not have played piano many times.

But even so, far from being disappointed, anticipation surges up.

‘His musical interpretation is excellent.’

Interpretation skills so outstanding they give goosebumps.

A talent one must be born with.

Even his playing posture is quite beautiful.

Just like when he heard the violin performance.

A beautiful posture as if a model were lip-syncing a performance.

He narrowed his eyes.

 

“Tsk.”

‘Why did Father have to take such a little brat as his student! When I’m here!’

This is exactly why Sophia Salonen is upset.

She loves and respects her father Esa-Pekka Salonen so much that she’s been learning classical music since age 5.

The time spent listening to classical music with Father, learning piano from Father, and learning conducting is a precious moment that can’t be exchanged for anything. Though it repeats daily, it’s always an anticipated time.

But suddenly a tiny little brat appears trying to steal that away. Trying to steal the words about being the most beloved daughter in the world, trying to steal Father’s attention.

And with such mediocre skills at that.

‘How annoying!’

It’s annoying that Father took on such a kid as a student, and even scolded her just now, and it’s also annoying that this little brat dares to become Father’s student with such mediocre skills.

‘I’m supposed to be Father’s successor!’

How can she drive him away? How can she bring Father’s attention back to herself?

‘Ah!’

A good idea suddenly came to her, and she clenched her fists tightly.

Pam-bam-ba-bam!

Clap clap clap clap clap!

“You play well! You definitely have talent at this level!”

“…Is that so?”

‘It can’t be, right?’

Unlike small instruments like violin or cello that could be stored in the office, the piano was too expensive and large to buy, and he had barely played it a few times.

Perhaps because of that, he made quite a lot of mistakes.

‘He couldn’t even properly express the emotions…’

“Father! Can I play the piano too?”

Johann and Esa-Pekka Salonen look at Sophia.

“He’s Father’s student now. We’ll see him every Sunday, so wouldn’t it be good if you became friends?”

“…Oh? You want to?”

Esa-Pekka Salonen’s face brightened considerably.

His daughter had been greatly upset when he took on a student and said he would give lessons every Sunday.

He had been extremely worried when his daughter Sophia, whom he cherished even more because he had her at an older age, became upset, so he joyfully stepped aside thinking his daughter had finally accepted it, and Sophia sat at the piano as Johann moved aside, looking at Johann.

‘Watch carefully. You’ll realize that someone like you is nothing!’

He’ll leave on his own out of embarrassment.

She smiled sweetly and placed her hands on the keyboard.

A fierce melody began to resonate powerfully in the high and spacious room.

 

Ta-ra-ra-ra-ra!

Esa-Pekka Salonen smiled contentedly.

‘Excellent.’

Liszt – Mephisto Waltz (Mephisto Waltz No.1, S.514.)

It’s a piece of extreme difficulty that requires fierce, powerful, and insanely rapid playing and technique that even decent virtuoso pianists find overwhelming, but not for his daughter Sophia.

Piano genius Sophia, a technical prodigy who already debuted at the young age of 8 and will shake the world in just 3 more years.

‘She’s trying to show off her impressive side.’

It seems like Sophia is trying to show her impressive side as an older sister.

Such a cute and lovable sight.

A smile naturally burst out.

But Johann was different.

‘There’s such a genius too…’

Since his elder uncle, younger uncle, and father had all performed concertos with renowned pianists of their time, he could tell that this talent exceeded ordinary boundaries.

‘I might be looking at a genius who will shake the world in the not-so-distant future.’

Such pure admiration rose up to his throat.

Then…

‘Hmm?’

Johann’s brow furrowed at her gaze and smile directed toward him.

Can you play this much? Impossible, right? How about giving up?

Such an arrogant look that seemed to say that.

‘I understand.’

Since it must feel like her father was stolen by him who suddenly appeared, she as a daughter could understandably be annoyed.

At only 13 years old, it’s completely understandable.

‘However…’

“That’s a bit irritating.”

Understanding and being irritated are completely different meanings.

Provocation. That’s provocation.

Johann’s eyes darkened as he recalled life in the forest where ignoring and letting provocation pass could result in death or submission.

How many times did Johann’s fist clench and unclench repeatedly?

Ta-da-dan!

“Bravo!”

Clap clap clap clap clap clap!

Sophia smiled proudly at her father’s enthusiastic cheers and looked at Johann again, while Johann raised his hand toward Esa-Pekka Salonen.

“May I try again? I think I know how to play the piano now.”

“What do you mean by that…”

Esa-Pekka Salonen’s eyes widened as he pondered Johann’s words.

“D-don’t tell me you didn’t even know how to play piano until now, no, you’ve never played it before?”

“I’ve seen Teacher play the piano.”

“…Oh, my goodness.”

Lies flowing smoothly.

Johann passed by him in shock and sat at the piano.

He placed his hands on the keyboard and closed his eyes.

‘Josef II would be too much, right?’

Josef II agreed with that assessment.

If he could have played piano frequently, he could have humbled that high nose, that young genius who dared to discuss waltz in front of him, but the practice time was far too insufficient for that.

No matter how much of a genius, practice is absolutely essential.

Johann nodded to Josef II who gritted his teeth and stepped back, then moved his lips.

‘Entry.’

The vast and enormous universe unfolded before his eyes.

“Search. Pianist. Virtuoso.”

Johann reached toward one of the countless orbs flying toward him.

 

* * *

 

Flinch!

‘The atmosphere changed?’

No, this is an aura. Suddenly from that small frame, it seems like a young man to an old man is reflected.

‘What is this…’

A performance that began amidst confusion.

The piano melody resonating through the high and wide space made Esa-Pekka Salonen and Sophia Salonen’s eyebrows twitch.

“…Heh heh.”

The Liszt – Mephisto Waltz (Mephisto Waltz No.1, S.514.) that Sophia had just performed.

Mephisto Waltz, a piece that absolutely cannot be known unless one has formally learned classical music.

“To perform that…”

If Johann hasn’t been lying until now, there’s only one answer.

He heard and memorized Sophia’s performance just now.

“What truly absurd talent.”

“…Father, does he perhaps have absolute pitch?”

“That’s what we have to assume.”

Just from what he’s shown so far, we can draw conclusions, but to be accurate, we’d need to test him in detail.

“Hmph. So that’s why he said that. What a fool.”

That arrogant statement about thinking he knows how to play piano.

She was curious why he said such a thing, but now she thinks she knows.

That’s just a fool full of bravado like other boys his age.

“Tsk. Sophia. Calling your younger brother a fool.”

“Why not, you are a fool.”

Mephisto Waltz is a piece that cannot be memorized after hearing it just once, even with absolute pitch. People think absolute pitch is some kind of omnipotent magic, but it absolutely is not.

She could be certain of this because she was born with absolute pitch herself.

“Even Mozart, who introduced Gregorian chant to the world, could only perfectly transcribe that chant into sheet music after hearing it countless times, so who does he think he is to play something after hearing it once…”

Sophia, who had been speaking, closes her mouth.

Esa-Pekka Salonen does the same.

Both their eyes fix on Johann.

“What, what is this…”

It becomes intense.

The piano begins to resonate with explosive force, and his short fingers, less than half the size of an adult’s, begin to dance across the piano keyboard as if possessed by a demon.

The insane technique that grabs and shakes the heart and scalp gouges at the ears and eyes.

“How, how is that even possible!”

In a situation where not even 0.01 percent was possible, Sophia doubted her ears once more, and Esa-Pekka Salonen gritted his teeth at the rising goosebumps.

If Sophia was only looking at the surface, he was seeing what lay beneath.

‘This isn’t simply memorization!’

Beyond memorizing what Sophia played, he is interpreting the piece.

An interpretation that would never be possible for a genius of that age.

The same interpretation as the great pianist he respects.

An interpretation with such strong individuality that anyone who heard it could only recognize it as his.

No, his color feels far too vivid.

“Why, why on earth…”

‘Why do I see Gilels reflected in that small body?’

One of the great pianists who dominated the 20th century, and a master of technique always counted among the finest when discussing technical virtuosos.

Steel Touch, Emil Gilels.

He could see Gilels overlapping with Johann.

‘The reincarnation of the Waltz King?’

It’s not something like that.

It’s something that surpasses him.

Horowitz’s presence makes it feel even more so.

Esa-Pekka Salonen clutched his heart at the ever-growing aura.

 

* * *

 

“Whew.”

‘It hurts.’

Not just his fingers, but the spaces between his fingers feel like they’re tearing apart.

It was natural since he tried to play such a technical piece with fingers that hadn’t fully grown yet and were ridiculously short, but the pain that visited him after so long made him grumpy.

Even after absorbing ‘Steel Touch, Emil Grigoryevich Gilels’ and experiencing changes in his finger muscles, this still happened.

‘I really want to grow up quickly.’

When on earth will he grow?

Johann, who pouted his lips and opened his eyes, pulls his head back slightly.

Sophia’s face had come right up to his nose.

Her eyes are burning hot.

“Hey. Do you want to be mine?”

“I don’t want to.”

Johann, who answered reflexively, scrunched up his 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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