Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 82

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Infinite Talent Reset Life Episode 82

 

 

Swish! Swish swish!

The small hand holding the brush moves rapidly.

It’s unhesitating, as if the sketch has already been imprinted in the mind.

Clear topaz-like brown eyes that contain only the drawing.

Even when paint splashes on the face, there’s no wavering, and hot energy radiates from the small body.

“How about changing the city even now? Looking at great-grandfather’s notebook here…”

“That’s LA from back then. It’s already been 70 years, so of course this is right. Please express that part more softly.”

“Like this?”

Robert Burton turns around and goes down to the first floor.

Silver Lake with its cool breeze and fields blooming with unknown flowers, an Indian village welcomes him.

Spring from long ago.

On the ceiling, clouds are embroidered shining in the sky.

Robert Burton heads to the second floor.

The season changes.

Summer of the pioneer era.

Hot sun and clear sky’s shower.

People bursting out of wooden buildings spread their arms wide.

Mother runs to gather the laundry, and Father takes out a bucket.

And the full-fledged birth of America, autumn.

The age of great migration.

Immigrants of all kinds wearing shabby clothes from various countries who crossed the sea push through golden wheat fields dyed in twilight, heading toward the massive city of LA filled with stone buildings.

4th floor, the modern city.

The desolate night wind sweeping through the forest of buildings with lights that never go out announces that winter has come.

And the final 5th floor.

Gods and stars watch over all those changes.

“…”

No words are sufficient.

There are no words to express this emotion.

‘The overall framework is Hugo Ballin.’

Hugo Ballin, whose signature is bold, unhesitating, and distinct lines.

If you look at this painting as a whole, anyone would think of Hugo Ballin.

‘But the details are Benjamin’s.’

His son Benjamin Burton’s hyperrealism.

The unknown flowers in the field, young children running through the village with friends in the shower, the swaying hair of immigrants, the buildings of the city.

Even the shadows cast by sunlight are all so realistic, as if they photographed that era and printed it here.

His eyes grow hot.

‘If I had set the overall framework and Benjamin had drawn the details, wouldn’t it have been like this.’

The smile of his son who left first pierces his heart again today.

But he feels fulfilled.

His lingering attachment, his wish, his regret.

Right now, at this moment, it feels like he’s together with his son.

That’s why he can’t understand it.

“How is this possible?”

The harmony of two completely different styles.

It’s a technique that even he, a giant in the art world, cannot achieve.

Could he barely manage to imitate it if he practiced hundreds of times?

‘Just how great a talent does that child possess.’

It’s a magnitude he cannot dare to judge.

“The art world will be in turmoil.”

Thinking that the art world, where vanity and arrogance surge like waves, will be shattered like a wooden house collapsed by an earthquake, he can’t help but smile.

That was the moment.

“My goodness.”

“Oh, God.”

“Crazy…”

The uninvited guests freeze under the gaze of the god looking down upon them.

‘They must be Johann’s acquaintances.’

That’s why the security guard, no, the manager guarding the entrance must have let them up.

But that’s not the problem right now.

“Shh. Please be quiet.”

This is the end.

The completion of a great work has only one final dot remaining.

Like the Eastern saying about adding eyes to a painted dragon, this was the most important moment.

Sensing this, Johann’s friends also wake up and look at the ceiling. Jamie Valin also puts down her brush and watches Johann.

She recalled what happened a few days ago.

 

‘This is impossible.’

What are the odds that two complete strangers’ mental images would overlap?

Especially an 11-year-old kid and a 54-year-old muralist from 1933.

They’re almost identical.

The details are different, but the framework is the same.

‘Is this what geniuses can do?’

Genius, such an unreasonable word.

What exactly is she lacking?

She wanted to know.

“Johann, why did you place the field on the first floor?”

Great-grandfather Hugo Ballin originally intended to paint murals throughout the entire observatory.

According to what was written in the notebook, it should have started with winter, the city.

“Because there are stairs here.”

The content of a painting must change according to its composition.

What Hugo Ballin wanted to paint at the observatory was a reverse journey through time.

Starting from the city, going through America’s birth, the Western pioneer era, and the Age of Exploration, one could see the march of science that transcended the era of ceiling murals.

The age of gods when constellations were individual deities.

The science and constellation stories of that era.

A journey departing for that place.

The end would be observing constellations through a telescope.

Only by going that far would the painting Hugo Ballin wanted to create be completed.

But this is a five-story building.

Any composition other than gods looking down would seem strange.

That’s why the story had to change as well.

“No matter how much humans develop, gods only watch from high above.”

And humans try to reach the gods.

“Ah…”

It wavers. It breaks.

Her preconceptions, the eggshell surrounding her.

‘Even the same painting can have its content change so much depending on placement.’

What had she been thinking about all this time while painting?

Had she ever thought like this before?

Have you ever pondered such things?

Have you ever tried to think this way?

‘No. I was just mindlessly following in my great-grandfather’s footsteps.’

Without any thought of understanding, stupidly at that.

And that’s not even all of it.

“Make that part a bit rougher.”

“Like this?”

“A little more. Yes, that’s good.”

He teaches with seemingly casual yet meticulous care.

If not with words, then he shows through his paintings.

As if to say brush strokes can be done this way too.

As if to say shadows can tell stories too.

As if to say this is how paintings should be done, he guides like a departed grandfather.

Just watching Johann’s paintings improves one’s skills by a level.

Those blissful yet joyful two weeks.

The end he wished wouldn’t come draws near.

Tap!

“…Done.”

When the sound of the final brushstroke and the declaration of completion thunder through Jamie Valin’s ears and the 5th floor, everyone releases their held breath.

“Wooow!”

“Great work!”

Cheers pour out.

‘Hehe.’

Johann leans back completely to look at the painting he completed with ‘Artist, Hugo Ballin’, ‘Art Student’ Benjamin, Robert Burton, and Jamie Valin.

‘Artist, Hugo Ballin’ says this isn’t his painting.

‘Art Student’ Benjamin says this isn’t his painting.

But both are satisfied.

An advanced painting of a new realm. The birth of a new style.

“For the title… how about ‘Stories of the World Watched by Stars’?”

“That’s a wonderful title, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

A familiar voice suddenly interrupts.

Johann, who was lying at the end of the ladder with his head tilted back, is startled.

“Ada?”

Mr. Kellner, Kim Seo-hyun, and Edward Sherman are there too.

Johann blinked his eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Then let’s proceed that way.”

In the end, the aramid fiber technology fell into Mr. Kellner’s hands.

Among the numerous defense and clothing companies in America, Mr. Kellner promised the highest contract fee and royalties.

Mr. Kellner was slightly displeased that Edward Sherman had interfered in this contract, but he wasn’t unhappy since BlackRock shared the risk by making a massive investment.

It could be said that all four people were satisfied with the contract.

‘Good thing I didn’t have to make three trips.’

Kim Seo-hyun, who came back to LA after about 2 weeks for today’s contract.

Mr. Kellner makes a suggestion with a smile on his lips.

“Since the contract ended well, how about we have a meal? It’s late so it could be called an early dinner, but I know a good Italian restaurant. It’s not well-known so no reservation is needed.”

The taste would probably be better than what you’d eat in Italy itself.

At those words, Kim Seo-hyun, who was about to return to Korea immediately, and Edward Sherman, who was going to return to BlackRock to execute the investment for Mr. Kellner, decided to postpone their tasks for a while.

The same went for Ada.

She could spare a few hours for the people who helped her achieve this year’s greatest performance.

So they traveled in Mr. Kellner’s car.

“Hmm?”

Mr. Kellner’s eyes waver as they arrive in front of the restaurant.

Broken glass windows and all kinds of waste piled up in the 8-space parking lot in front of the restaurant.

“I’m sorry about this. I never thought it would be closed… Hmm?”

‘That person is?’

A large man guarding the front of the restaurant.

‘I’ve seen him before.’

Mr. Kellner looks at Ada.

She’s smiling as if amused.

“I didn’t know my child had acquired the Italian restaurant Mr. Kellner recommended. By the way, Mr. Sherman’s daughter is also there.”

“I was wondering where he got paint on himself… so that was the place. Haha!”

The place where Johann, whom he hoped would become friends with his son Adam Kellner, and BlackRock LA Branch Manager Edward Sherman’s daughter are located.

Mr. Kellner looks at Kim Seo-hyun.

“Kim, if it’s not rude, could we stop by there for a moment?”

“I’m fine with it.”

She had postponed her flight to tomorrow anyway.

There was plenty of time.

The four people who expressed their gratitude got out of the car and entered the building.

And…

“Huh.”

“Oh my.”

An old American field where a cool breeze happened to blow across their faces.

The pungent smell of paint indicated that this painting hadn’t been completed long ago.

‘Th-this painting style is?’

A painting style she had seen before.

And recently at that.

Kim Seo-hyun recalls the young genius she discovered at Griffith Observatory.

Ada smiled at the gathering gazes.

“It’s already a known fact that my child has genius talent in art. Shall we go up slowly? He’s probably on the 5th floor.”

So Mr. Kellner, Edward Sherman, and Kim Seo-hyun, who climbed through summer, autumn, and winter to enter the 5th floor, swallow their breath.

‘The ceiling mural of Griffith Observatory!’

But it’s different.

More realistic.

Lower.

More vibrant.

Therefore completely overwhelming.

Under the quietly looking down gazes of the gods.

Under the gazes of gods versus humans watching from eight directions.

‘Stories of the World Watched by Stars.’

It was truly a fitting masterpiece for which no other title could come to mind.

 

“How did you come here?”

When Ada explains the situation, Johann’s mouth falls open.

Could there be such a coincidence?

Everyone else thinks the same thing.

Mr. Kellner steps forward.

“Jefferson, was it? Do you have any thoughts of selling this building?”

“No.”

“Yes! We won’t sell it!”

“This is our hideout, mister!”

As the children raise their voices in opposition, Johann calms them down.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve never thought about such a thing.”

“Then how about an investment?”

“…Investment?”

A sudden investment proposal.

Johann looks around at the mural.

‘What kind of investment could be made here?’

The mural is already complete.

What other use could it have?

Curious, Johann uses Absorption Reading on ‘Investor Leicester Barber’.

Then…

“Ah, we could charge admission fees.”

His mind starts spinning rapidly.

Mr. Kellner’s eyes flash.

Doesn’t he have quite a business-minded perspective?

“How about selling coffee?”

“…We can’t put many tables.”

Too many tables would block the mural.

At most, we could fit 6 per floor.

“We’d even have to sacrifice space for making coffee.”

“Johann, then how about over there?”

Emily’s finger points to the parking lot where waste is piled up.

Johann and Mr. Kellner’s gazes follow.

All three have the same thought.

“Fifteen dollars per cup. A premium strategy.”

“No, that would be too high a barrier. Premium should be moderately premium.”

At fifteen dollars, only those who really want to come would come.

“How about five dollars per cup?”

Even this is higher than Starbucks, the epitome of expensive coffee.

“Hmm. If you can enjoy such a masterpiece while drinking coffee for five dollars… that seems reasonable.”

Mr. Kellner nodded, but Johann and Emily furrow their brows.

“Then we should raise it to six dollars.”

“I think the same.”

“…Why?”

“SNS.”

“Because of SNS.”

If we invite celebrities, people who like them will come here.

“Ah…! Right. That was the flow.”

Clothes that stars wear, food that stars eat, places that stars go.

Public attention and consumption follow SNS stars.

“I can invite Black Eyed Peas, Eagles, and Led Zeppelin.”

“I can drop hints to the celebrities who come to my parties.”

“Then we at BlackRock will purchase the surrounding buildings.”

The three people’s eyes turn to Edward Sherman, who suddenly joined the conversation.

“…Ah! Trickle-down effect! Right, Father?”

“Please grow up slowly, Emily.”

“Hehe!”

Emily is right.

If it becomes known through the stars’ SNS, this area will be packed with people.

It might become LA’s new landmark.

No, if you know how to do business, you should make it that way.

Tourists who are waiting and have finished viewing will move to make other purchases. We need to attract them.

Restaurants, eateries, souvenir shops, fancy shops, clothing stores, accommodations, etc. If we form a commercial district throughout the surrounding area, it will naturally become a new landmark.

BlackRock would take all those profits.

What investor wouldn’t invest in such a business?

The story progressed rapidly like that.

Johann checks the children’s reactions.

The children look dejected, like they’ve had their ice cream stolen by stronger older siblings.

‘Oops.’

Johann suddenly closes his mouth, and the adults who turn their heads following his gaze also realize their mistake.

Edward Sherman and Mr. Kellner approach the children.

“Sorry for suddenly coveting your hideout. You made it so well that we got greedy. Could you show us some mercy?”

“As an apology, how about we give you free passes to Universal and Disneyland?”

“We’re not kids!”

“Yes! We’re past the age of liking amusement parks!”

A wonderful hideout made while smelling dust and paint for two weeks, their first hideout ever.

They absolutely couldn’t agree even if the president asked.

“Right. We’re not children.”

“Johann!”

The children look disappointed as Johann approaches.

But Johann deliberately ignores them and continues speaking.

“So we need to approach this from a business perspective. Kids, if we sell coffee here, they’ll give each of you 5 cents per cup.”

Ten cups would be 50 cents, 1000 cups would be 50 dollars.

In a month, that’s 1500 dollars.

“Surely more than a thousand people will come per day?”

“Of course they will!”

“Right! Look who made this!”

“We’ll make money like adults. With the hideout we made with our own hands.”

Flinch!

“…Like adults?”

‘Got them.’

The children waver.

Johann drives the point home.

“And we’re not selling our hideout. We’re selling the coffee sales business rights. And when commercial districts form around here, we get everything free for life. Right?”

“Of, of course!”

“Naturally!”

“…And we get the free passes too.”

It’s over.

Johann smiled.

“Deal.”

“Hmph! We’re only giving in because you asked so sincerely!”

“Right. It’s not like we’re doing this because we’re jealous that only Emily and Flash make money!”

“Hey, why did you say that!”

Johann looks at the adults who are sighing in relief.

“If BlackRock purchases it like that, how about leaving the operations to the Hispanics?”

“To the Hispanics?”

Johann points to Julio and his group’s mothers, and the artists, whose eyes have widened.

Artists who volunteered for menial work hoping to learn even a little from Robert Burton. Julio’s Mother who made snacks and Dominican Republic food every day, asking them to take good care of Julio.

Buildings like this are also being sold at rock-bottom prices during this period.

It would be nice if they could also enjoy the trickle-down effect.

“It’s only 8 minutes away from the Hispanic Concentrated Area.”

And he said there were many hip Mural Paintings in that Hispanic Concentrated Area.

They were all Artworks by those Artists.

The theme could be connected.

“Why do you think over ten million tourists visit the Observatory each year?”

It’s because of the night view overlooking LA and the Observatory Exhibition Hall with Ceiling Mural Paintings.

The more attractions, the better.

“Hooo…”

“Hmm.”

When everyone’s gaze turned to one corner, toward Julio’s Mother and the Artists who were with Julio, they quickly picked up their Mobile Phones.

“It’s me, honey! Bring the Bankrupt Business Owners here!”

“It’s me, Father!”

“Hey! Everyone come running!”

Things suddenly got much bigger.

 

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————