Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 68
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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 68
’Marta? Ah, Marta!’
I’ve seen her in the memories of ‘Emil Grigoryevich Gilels, Steel Touch’.
She debuted at age 8 with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 and Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 1, learning piano from masters like pianist Friedrich Gulda and sound craftsman Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli.
A genius who shook the world by proudly taking first place at the 1965 Chopin International Piano Competition.
Johann slowly closes and opens his eyes.
‘Marta…’
That pretty and cute young lady has aged so much.
‘Emil Grigoryevich Gilels, Steel Touch’ feels bitter about the transience of time yet smiles with joy.
“In terms of singers, she’s like Madonna! Oh, I’m a fan!”
“Aaah!”
“S-sorry for not recognizing you!”
“C-coffee! If not, anything to drink! The most expensive one!”
In the studio turned upside down with commotion, Martha Argerich chuckles at the sight of the noisy young people and looks at Johann.
She demands an answer to the question she just asked.
Johann’s eyebrows twitch.
“That’s right. So please leave.”
“Hmm?”
‘Russian pronunciation? Is he of Russian mixed blood?’
But his words and actions are insolent.
Martha Argerich snorts and turns around, watching Johann head to one side.
That was the moment.
Ting-a-ling!
A monotonous piano melody that captures from ears to body.
Martha Argerich whips around and stares intently at Johann’s back as he sits at the electronic piano. Even Salonen, who had been puzzled until just now, bursts into hollow laughter at the arrogance-filled ‘We Are The Champions’ so unlike Johann.
The ‘We Are The Champions’ they just heard replays in their minds.
The terrible sound that had dragged and crushed other instruments without consideration like a lone wolf disappears.
It continues.
It digs between notes and holds both sides tenderly.
Like a friendly companion, it links arms saying let’s go this way.
At that brightly shining smile, other notes prepare to smile brightly too.
Chills!
“…You’re right, Salonen.”
Emil Gilels, who had been so strict and meticulous that he wouldn’t tolerate even the smallest gap or mistake.
That person’s essence wafts over strongly.
‘How can even his personality be so similar?’
Emil Gilels was the type of Soviet man who showed through actions rather than words when his pride was hurt.
I was wrong in my thinking.
Johann wasn’t showing off thinking he was great.
He was saying through piano that since he found a way to improve, let’s try harder.
I misjudged his skill.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
Johann, who stopped playing, speaks with his eyes.
Why are you still here?
“…Ugh. Follow me.”
“I don’t want to.”
This is as far as it goes.
This is the repayment for Esa-Pekka Salonen’s thoughtfulness in seemingly bringing Martha Argerich for Johann’s sake.
‘Are all women who play piano like this?’
Sophia too, they’re all so willful.
“Tsk.”
Such an insolent brat deserves a spanking, but since she’s done something wrong, she can’t be too forceful.
Martha Argerich waves her hand at Johann from before and sits at the piano.
And…
“Huh?”
“My goodness.”
‘We Are The Champions’ began to be played by her hands.
Goosebumps rise.
The people in the studio lose their words.
Not because a master of classical music, of piano, played pop music.
Not because she arranged it on the spot either.
Because of the melody created by touches that are delicate like a young girl, yet intense and sexy like the golden eyes of a black panther hidden among trees in a dark forest.
This is vocals.
Martha Argerich was now presenting virtual vocals.
Her back is speaking.
How about a singer with this kind of voice, wouldn’t this style suit better?
‘I acknowledge it.’
Enormous talent and experience, effort combined with the insight of years presents vocals that would suit ‘We Are The Champions’, evolving this song in a better direction.
It’s annoying, but his shoulders sway.
His body heats up.
Johann clicks his tongue at the inspiration surging in his head and slings the guitar over his shoulder.
And…
Jang-jang-!
Intense guitar piercing through the piano.
People looked on in shock, but Johann looks at Bruno Mars as if asking what he’s doing.
“Haha!”
Bruno Mars bursts into laughter and hits the drums with a thud, making Joe Walsh and Jimmy Page shake their heads as if going crazy, wipe their faces, and the members each pick up their instruments.
Guitar, bass, electronic sounds, trumpet, beat box quickly layer over the piano.
The song is being completed.
Beyond that level, it heads somewhere above the sky.
A continuous, harmonious, unified heavenly melody that steals one’s soul.
But one thing is lacking.
Vocals.
Their throats grew parched with thirst.
* * *
Marta looks at Johann, who exhales a long breath.
‘The god of music is quite mischievous.’
It’s an impossible talent.
But the words that come out of her mouth are different.
“Hehe. Right. A man should know how to admit defeat.”
“Defeat? What defeat?”
She’s saying strange things.
Rather than that, Marta is more surprising.
“Do you have time to study pop music too?”
In that performance just now, classical music couldn’t be felt anywhere.
A piano performance played solely according to pop techniques, matching the imaginary vocals he had in mind.
“Hmph. What’s so difficult about playing pop music?”
Pop is nothing more than a series of monotonous notes compared to classical music.
“Just a sequence of sounds that only considers superficial stimulation.”
“How annoying indeed.”
So who might this imaginary vocalist be?
“Well… it could be a real singer, or it might not be.”
He had simply imagined a voice that would suit the song.
Martha Argerich smiled and held out a ticket.
“Come visit when you have time.”
“A park concert…?”
“It should be quite interesting.”
With a twisted smile, she left the studio, and Esa-Pekka Salonen offered an apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Reminded of Emil Gilels, he had reflexively sent the file of Johann’s recording to Martha Argerich, who had been active in the same era, the moment Johann started playing piano.
He never expected Martha Argerich to show up so suddenly like this.
“Will you accept my apology?”
“…You did it for my sake. See you on Sunday.”
“Yes, thank you.”
After patting Johann’s head, he followed after Martha.
Martha Argerich stopped briefly and looked back at the studio.
“I understand your dilemma, Salonen.”
“Right?”
An unpredictable child.
A child who seemed to have two souls.
The soul of a piano beginner with immeasurable talent and the soul of Emil Gilels.
But his talent for guitar and composition was no less remarkable.
That’s why she felt impatient.
“We can’t let such talent be stolen away by the pop music industry. He plays violin well too?”
“On par with his piano skills.”
“…Hmm. Would Gidon Kremer be better, or Kyung-Wha Chung?”
Two of the greatest violinists she acknowledged, and others acknowledged as well.
Gidon Kremer and Kyung-Wha Chung.
Her eyes began to gleam brightly.
* * *
Whoosh!
Jake Gyllenhaal, who had been bouncing around like a boxer, suddenly charged toward the stuntman.
As the stuntman swung his prop sword, Jake dodged and swung his blade.
That was the beginning.
Clang! Clang! Crack! Crack!
Jake Gyllenhaal became a small storm, and the stuntman struggled to block his sword while retreating.
“How is it, Mike?”
Mike Newell, the director of this film.
The 60-year-old man who had directed Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire narrowed his eyes.
The quality of the action had jumped dramatically in just a few days.
Bold movements that started from the body to strike down enemies.
Irregular kicks and thrusts.
Like a cat full of venom, like a scorpion.
It had gained intense impact like a Bruce Lee movie.
‘Clumsy.’
But it was still clumsy.
As the movements became longer, the speed also decreased.
But that was something editing could fix.
“Of course, I’m not saying the previous version was bad. But this…”
With that action alone, it felt like the story of Prince Damatan, played by Jake Gyllenhaal, was complete.
Moreover…
“Mmhmm.”
Humming with quite an exotic melody.
Closing your eyes and listening, you’d think you were in a desert.
Seeing the music director swaying his shoulders beside him, it seemed the film’s music would also change significantly.
“What happened?”
“Let’s say a lucky little god paid us a visit.”
“Not a goddess of luck?”
“Same difference.”
“Nelson…”
He clicked his tongue at Nelson’s still stubborn attitude.
“Tsk. Will it be possible within the timeframe?”
“Jake’s body is already complete.”
They just needed to dress it in the new action.
The stuntmen would adapt quickly to the changed choreography since physical work was their job.
The rest was a matter of directing and editing.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The quality of the action had changed.
They had gained material that would make the movie more perfect.
How to use this would depend on his capability as director.
Mike, fired up for the first time in a while, turned around.
‘Good.’
He had received permission from that meticulous Mike Newell.
Now all that remained was constant effort and creation.
“Alright! Let’s move our bodies…”
“Director!”
A staff member came running quickly toward Nelson, carrying a small box.
“Huff huff! This came for you, Director!”
“For me? Who… Haha!”
Hope this helps.
Johann Jefferson.
He quickly unwrapped the package to find several CDs inside.
He had an idea what they were.
“Laptop!”
The stuntmen became grasshoppers.
* * *
“Johann.”
“Flash.”
The expressions of the two men meeting on the weekend were far from ordinary.
“It’s been so long, Mary!”
“Ada! How long has it been!”
The cheerful atmosphere bursting from beside them makes both men’s eyebrows twitch.
‘We’re being serious here!’
Today is a very important day.
The two forcibly pull themselves together from their deflating spirits and look at their families.
“We’re going to head inside now!”
“Okay! You have to do well!”
“Hit a home run, Johann!”
“You too, Flash!”
“We believe in our son!”
“Yeah!”
Greatly inspired by their families’ cheering, the two enter the baseball stadium.
“Oh! Johann! My friend! Have you been well? I’ve been well too! Not just well! Rocky Management donated violins to our school…”
“Yeah. Hi, Jerry. Hi Julio too. Hi everyone.”
“Hi, Johann!”
“Hi Flash too?”
Johann greets his friends from spring camp and stands in front of his locker, narrowing his eyes.
Johann Jefferson.
Even at California West’s home stadium, there was now a locker with his name on it.
It felt strange.
Flash grumbles while putting his stuff in his locker.
“Tch! I thought I was dropped from the roster since they didn’t call me for the exhibition games.”
‘Me too.’
California West had played three exhibition games total after spring camp ended.
But during those three exhibition games, Johann and Flash, who was Johann’s battery partner, weren’t even called to the stadium, let alone put in the games.
So they had been a bit angry, but seeing the locker, that anger melts away.
Bang!
After changing clothes, Director George Huntington and the coaches enter. All the players stand up and straighten their backs.
“Did everyone rest well this past week!”
“Yes!”
George Huntington and the pitching coach’s gazes sweep over Johann, Flash, and other players who had rested during the exhibition games.
“…Everyone’s here. You all know what today’s game means, right?!”
“Yes!”
“It’s the season opener!”
That’s right.
Today, March 31st, was the day of the opening game that announced the start of the Little League Major 2009 season.
California West had the honor of hosting the season opener.
“I’m sure you all know the saying that the team that dominates the opener dominates the season!”
Right. That’s why Johann was feeling something called nervousness.
As the players’ eyes change at those words, the coaches look pleased.
“Then I’ll announce the players who will start in today’s game! Starting pitcher!”
The eyes of the kids whose main position is pitcher fill with intensity.
Johann is the same.
“…Johann Jefferson! The starter is Johann Jefferson!”
‘Of course.’
“Wow!”
“Congratulations, Johann! As expected of our ace!”
The ace is always the starter.
That rule hadn’t been broken.
“Second starter Julio Rodriguez!”
“Yes!”
“Wow!”
Johann and Julio make eye contact and smile.
Johann reads the intention behind the rotation the manager created.
‘Break their mentals with sidearm like underhand, then strike down from the sky?’
What kind of nightmare would that be.
They wouldn’t even be able to adapt to his pitches, but when they’re barely trying to adapt, balls striking down like meteors from the sky would be hell itself for them.
That’s not all.
Malice radiates from combinations like right-handed pitching followed by left-handed pitching.
‘Was he this kind of personality.’
He’s seriously going all out for a perfect victory.
‘Interesting.’
He could have put him as the 10th starter and hidden him completely.
The most powerful weapons become more powerful the more you hide them, after all.
He thought that’s why they didn’t call him for the exhibition games.
But that wasn’t it.
Half right, half wrong.
‘He wants me to crush them from the start?’
Johann, who seems to have roughly figured out George Huntington’s personality, puts the chocolate Emily gave him as a gift in his mouth.
“That’s all! Everyone come to the field once you’re ready!”
“Yes!”
As George Huntington and the coaches leave the locker room, the players hurriedly change clothes.
Finally, the start of the season.
With trembling hearts, some players can’t put their pants on properly or button their shirts wrong.
Pressure they couldn’t feel in exhibition games.
Still, the players who somehow managed to change all their clothes gather in the center of the locker room.
They stare intently at Johann, their leader.
Johann places his hands on the backs of the players standing on either side of him, and soon the players form a circle.
Johann’s aura changes in an instant.
“California West!”
“Agh!”
“Uh, uh!”
The kids are startled and shaken by the ear-splitting shout.
Johann’s indifferent gaze sweeps over them.
The kids who had shrunk back discover the burning flame within that indifferent gaze and grit their teeth.
Johann nods at them and opens his mouth wide again.
“California West-!”
…Crack!
“Uh! Uh! Uh-!”
The shouts of young beasts heating up the locker room.
“Let’s go.”
To the field.
“…Let’s do this!”
“Shall we win!”
California West, assembled with only all-stars.
It was time to dominate the game.
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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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