Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 84
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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 84
Ray Clemer had it easy from a young age.
Overflowing strength and stamina without even exercising.
Opponents’ punches that seemed so slow a bug could land on them.
After he knocked down an 8th grader when he was in 3rd grade, no one dared to mess with him.
He was a king.
But even such a king couldn’t escape the school system.
So he was forced to start sports, and he chose baseball for one reason only – it required the least amount of sweating.
Overwhelming strength, dynamic vision, and athletic ability.
Not only the kids in the same baseball club, but even the coach who was like a demon to other kids was like an angel to him.
Then one day, the coach touched a nerve.
“Ray, your rival has appeared!”
That was Johann.
An 80-mph fastball that flew like a living snake.
A 70-mph slider as fast as a fleeing swallow.
A 50-mph slow ball.
Ray Clemer, who was so bored he would sometimes fall asleep during games and was losing what little interest he had, suddenly snapped to attention.
So he tried practicing for the first time in a while, and luckily the LA Dodgers were holding a pitching and batting event.
‘But then…’
Disappointing.
It might be overwhelming speed and quality for the league, but that’s about it.
Then there was only one thing left.
It was time to punish him for the disappointment.
“Next.”
“Stop.”
When LA Dodgers’ Joe Torre made them stop, both Johann and Ray Clemer looked at him with dissatisfied expressions.
“Save the real showdown for when you’re out on the field, kids.”
It was almost time for the pitching and batting event.
If they were people who had never played baseball, they would have called them earlier to teach them pitching form and batting stance, but Johann and Ray Clemer were already kids who dominated Little League.
There was no point in testing them further.
‘I’m looking forward to five years from now.’
Major League, where player contracts cannot be signed before age 16 to protect minors.
Joe Torre’s lips curved up slightly.
“Tsk.”
Ray Clemer clicked his tongue and turned around, while Johann narrowed his eyes.
“Johann Jefferson, right? Your pitching was really good. How much do you practice?”
After Joe Torre, Don Mattingly, and Clayton Kershaw returned to the locker room, an LA Dodgers front office staff member approached them in a friendly manner.
“I do it consistently.”
Every club practice.
Since California West gathered players from all over Western California, it was impossible for everyone to gather for training. So all players trained at their school’s baseball clubs and gathered for weekend games.
“Oh! That’s a good habit! Which baseball team do you like the most?”
“The Dodgers.”
There wasn’t really a team he could say he liked, but here it was the Dodgers.
That’s what social life was about.
“That’s right! Citizens of LA should support the strongest and most traditional team! Oh, you’re incredibly flexible too!”
Chatter reminiscent of Jerry Goosby.
Johann let it go in one ear and pulled his arm.
Pop!
‘Ah, warm-up’s done.’
Heat had risen all the way to his fingertips.
Now the ball wouldn’t slip as much as before.
“It’s time!”
“Ooh! Let’s go! Player Ray Clemer!”
“Yes.”
Ray Clemer, who had been swinging his bat a few times on one side and then playing with his phone, got up and approached.
He glanced at Johann and then turned his gaze away.
Johann’s eyes narrowed again.
‘He definitely watched properly and swung.’
It wasn’t a wild swing.
He watched the ball to the end and turned the bat.
It meant he had tremendous dynamic vision and athletic ability.
‘And he studied me.’
Thanks to fragments of ‘Steel Touch, Emil Grigoryevich Gilels’, his pitch quality could be said to rival ‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’ in his prime.
No matter how much it slipped, it was a ball that couldn’t be touched at Little League level.
Unless perfectly studied, even watching and swinging would result in nothing but whiffs.
‘So kids like this will keep appearing from now on?’
Real pure monsters, different from himself who received help from the library.
Interesting.
Mischief raised its head in his heart.
“Huff. Huff. Are you all okay?”
Johann and Ray Clemer looked incredulously at the front office staff member who was more nervous than they were.
“Haha. Shall we go out? When we go out, you need to wave to the audience.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
-Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome them! These are the two geniuses who will be the future of the Dodgers!
“Let’s go!”
“Waaaah!”
The moment they stepped through the large gate, hot energy struck their entire bodies. The cheers from about 40,000 people made their whole bodies tingle.
‘This is the scene Major Leaguers see every day…’
It was much bigger than expected.
The size of the stadium too.
The number 40,000 too.
It was an overwhelming scene that made you feel like an ant, one that would naturally intimidate enemies.
Ray Clemer’s body also stiffened.
But that was only for a moment.
“Johann-!”
A familiar voice hitting his ears.
When he quickly turned his eyes, Emily and friends were jumping up and down in the distance.
Johann chuckled and stepped forward, waving his hand.
‘Right. It’s not like I’ve only seen this once or twice.’
‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’ and ‘Angels’ #11, James Lewis Fregosi’ had seen this countless times.
Even if the heat of the field he was directly experiencing and the cheers of the crowd made his heart feel like it would burst with excitement, it wasn’t enough to freeze his soul.
-The ace pitcher of California West, currently doing well with 6 wins and 2 losses! The future Dodgers’ #1 starter! Johann-! Jefferson!
“Waaaah!”
Johann calmly waved and climbed the mound, tapping the ground with the toe of his shoe.
‘High. Solid.’
A higher view than Little League mounds.
The solid ground gripping his spikes firmly.
The earthy smell of the mound brushing past his nose excites both Johann and ‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’.
His whole body’s blood boils on the real mound he’s stepped onto after so long.
-Currently running an 8-game winning streak, right? Magnit Elementary School’s fourth batter! Future Dodgers’ fourth batter too! Ray-! Clemer-!
“Waaaaaaaah!”
Ray Clemer, who seemed to have come to his senses, waves his hand as he steps into the batter’s box.
-A showdown between two geniuses who will shoulder the Dodgers’ future! Everyone please give them a round of applause-!
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Wheeek! Wheeeek!
Johann looks at Ray Clemer getting into position.
Still that indifferent look, not even giving this side any attention.
‘He studied me…’
“Really? I doubt it.”
There are more pitch types he hasn’t shown yet.
The first closer in history, ‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’.
Fastballs and sliders are just his signature pitches.
But…
‘That would be boring.’
He wants to shatter those arrogant eyes with something else, something completely fresh.
‘I was planning to stay quiet for a while, but…’
Johann twists his lips and slowly closes his eyes before opening them.
Crack! Crackle!
‘Rack, Dennis Eckersley’ withdraws as his muscles return to normal, then twist and change again, reestablishing themselves.
“Play ball!”
The umpire’s playful call.
Johann grits his teeth as he steps forward and twists his body.
His body, which should be leaning sideways due to the sidearm motion, faces forward.
“Hup!”
His arm swings through the air in a three-quarter diagonal motion.
Ray Clemer’s eyes widen before he grits his teeth and swings his bat.
Whoooosh!
“…S-strike-!”
“Wowaaaaaaah!”
Though he’s clearly right-handed so the ball should curve away from the batter, somehow it curved toward the batter instead – a reverse-spinning breaking ball.
A devastating pitch that can’t be attacked even when you know it’s coming – the screwball.
Every spectator rose to their feet.
* * *
“…?!”
Joe Torre rises to his feet.
The players who had been leaning against the dugout railing watching the two kids’ antics, and those who had been sitting in chairs with pleased smiles, all gasp in shock.
A pitch that even among Major Leaguers not many can throw, one that’s avoided because it can cause serious injury, but once you can throw it, almost no one can touch it – the screwball.
It had just been unleashed from the hand of an 11-year-old child.
So perfectly.
But Joe Torre is shocked by something else.
‘That windup motion is…?’
From that windup motion where he leans back as if falling backward, he strongly senses someone’s signature style.
Don Mattingly, standing beside him, feels the same way.
“El… Toro?”
A Dodgers legend who in his rookie year of 1981 became the only player in Major League history to simultaneously win Rookie of the Year and the Cy Young Award – the steadfast Mexican bull.
El Toro. Fernando Valenzuela.
Don Mattingly urgently looks at Joe Torre, and Joe Torre roughly grabs the phone installed in the dugout.
“Sign a sponsorship contract with that kid!”
Before another team steals him away.
Before that arm gets ruined.
As fast as possible.
“Right now!”
Crack!
“What the…”
The middle-aged man in his 50s turns his gaze away from Ray Clemer, who strikes home plate with his bat before turning around.
He looks at Johann, who waves cheerfully at the crowd with a bright smile, and quietly grits his teeth.
“A snake-like fastball and slider weren’t enough, now a three-quarter screwball?”
Not just Dennis Eckersley, but Fernando Valenzuela too.
“A genius of imitation?”
Kids that age naturally do that.
They imitate their favorite player’s form and try to throw the same pitches.
But…
‘If everyone who tried to imitate could actually do it, they’d all be Major Leaguers!’
It’s absolutely impossible.
Moreover, though it might be his imagination, the ball’s trajectory seems to curve even deeper than Fernando Valenzuela’s.
‘Is that all he’s got…?’
Isn’t he hiding something else?
The faces of legends like Sandy Koufax, Nolan Ryan, Don Drysdale, Greg Maddux flash through his mind.
At the same time, that small body, smaller than his peers, seems to grow larger and larger.
Chilling goosebumps wrap around his neck.
The Magnit Elementary School manager picked up his phone.
“It’s me. From now on, pass on all innings when Johann Jefferson comes up. Just do it when I tell you!”
That would be the way to preserve the players’ self-esteem.
He wasn’t the only one thinking that.
All the Western California Little League major team managers who had come to watch today’s game between the LA Dodgers and San Diego Padres were thinking the same thing.
* * *
“My goodness! Holy!”
What did he just see?
Did his eyes see it correctly?
“You looked just like El Toro! Don’t tell me you studied him?! That’s it, right?”
The Dodgers front office staff jumps up and down in front of Johann.
‘It is El Toro.’
A Dodgers legend, but ultimately a tragic pitcher whose arm was ruined because the Dodgers overworked him unreasonably.
[El Toro, Fernando Valenzuela Anguamea]
Drawn to the bright brown glowing orb, he had absorbed and accessed it, but learning about his circumstances made him wonder if he should have accessed it at all.
But ‘El Toro, Fernando Valenzuela Anguamea’ doesn’t think that way.
He feels deep gratitude to the Dodgers for discovering him rolling around on Mexican dirt floors and making him a Major Leaguer, and expresses thanks to Johann for allowing him to pitch in his prime form after so long.
“You bastard! How dare a worthless monkey embarrass me?!”
With a loud shout, something comes charging at him.
Johann’s eyes turn cold as he twists his body to the side.
But….
Thud!
Ray Clemer grabs Johann’s collar and shoves him against the wall.
Crack!
Johann’s fist strikes Ray Clemer’s elbow.
“…Ahhh!”
Johann lands on the floor and kicks Ray Clemer in the face as he falls clutching his elbow.
Smack!
“You blocked it?”
This is ridiculous.
During training at Spring Camp, he thought he had regained his body and mind from when he was in the Rocky Mountains, but apparently not.
Johann’s emotionless eyes close and open.
‘Reading List Check. Hunter.’
-Roooooar!
Long ago, there were demons called Vikings who sailed the seas in small ships, plundering and burning fellow human villages.
Among them were great warriors who ventured into dangerous forests to hunt beasts and provide food for their villages.
Their role was that of hunters.
They were the grateful beings who enabled him to hunt countless predators in the forests of the Rocky Mountains.
As he left the Rocky Mountain forests and the threat to his life disappeared, the great warrior buried in his memories awakens and makes Johann’s entire body surge.
Crack! Snap!
Bones and muscles twist and change, crying out to kill the enemy before him.
The soul of the wild era, where killing and being killed was common, guides Johann.
“Damn bastard!”
‘Weapon is bare hands.’
It doesn’t matter. When hunters lost their bow and arrow, spear and knife, they could still kill beasts with their bare hands.
Of course, they didn’t just kill beasts.
‘Start with the eyes.’
A boar-like guy like that needs to have his sight taken away first.
Johann’s sharpened index finger extends toward the eyes of the charging Ray Clemer.
That’s when it happened.
“Stop-!”
The Front Office Staff intervenes between Johann and Ray Clemer.
“Get out of the way!”
‘Damn it.’
Slash!
“Ugh?!”
As the Front Office Staff suddenly intervenes and Ray Clemer hesitates, Johann’s hand, which was aiming for Ray Clemer’s left eye, unfortunately only grazes Ray Clemer’s cheek.
A red line of blood is drawn on Ray Clemer’s cheek.
Shiver!
“…Ha, look at this bastard? So you’re not just any monkey, huh?”
“I told you to stop, you brats! Want to get dragged to the Police Station together?!”
Police Station.
Those magical words were enough to cool the heated heads of both Johann and Ray Clemer.
“Tsk. See you in the next game, you bastard.”
“If you do this again then, you’ll really die.”
Next time he’ll kill him before anyone can stop it.
“Pfft. Please, try it.”
Ray Clemer, who made a Kill Sign by running his hand across his throat, stomped away still angry, and Johann looked at the Front Office Staff with a dissatisfied expression.
“Phew… Good work today. I’ll take you to your Seats.”
“I’m sorry.”
This is social life again.
“…No. At your age, this can happen! More than that, you’re really fast! Whoosh! Whooshish! Haha!”
Ring! Ring!
“Yes, Donald… What? Here? Near the Locker Room… What did you say? Really?!”
The Front Office Staff looked at Johann with joy.
‘What?’
Johann was puzzled.
* * *
In front of the VIP Viewing Area door.
Larry and Ada, who were with Johann’s Friends and then called over, take a deep breath.
“Phew. Let’s go in!”
Frank McCourt, the current owner of the LA Dodgers, greets them as they open the door.
“Oh! Welcome!”
He smiles brightly.
Beside him, current LA mayor Antonio Ramon Villaraigosa stands up with a meaningful smile.
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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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