Reset Life with Infinite Talents - Chapter 98

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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 98

 

 

”Hut! Hut hut!”

The tanks charge forward.

Crash!

They collide and fall.

“Kyaaaah! Eric-!”

“Run! Run, run-!”

The battle of humanity’s ultimate weapons unfolds across specialized positions of quarterbacks, running backs, receivers, and linemen. American football – America’s most beloved sport and symbol of intense masculinity.

‘This is insane…’

Johann’s cheeks flush red at the bomb-like explosive sounds. Flash and the boys, Emily and the girls are all the same.

“I heard basketball and baseball are what people who fail at football play…”

“Football players don’t even go to the Olympics. They say it’s boring since they’d win gold anyway.”

“Wo, wow-.”

‘Those muscles really are unreal.’

Incredible muscles that not only fully absorb that massive impact but make them run across the field like wild horses.

Of course they can’t compare to bears or gorillas, but they’re not called humanity’s ultimate weapons for nothing.

“Wait here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to shoot while running.”

Having taken overall shots, now I need to photograph the star players the principal mentioned.

‘He said to prioritize the running back, right?’

A star player advancing to the Stanford Cardinals, one of the powerhouses in the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) football league on the US West Coast.

Johann closed his eyes and entered the library.

 

“Hehe. Look at those kids.”

“That must be them.”

The photographers the principal mentioned who would be shooting promotional materials for the school.

They were also students who graduated from Fairmont Elementary School.

“Wow, I guess we really have gotten older.”

“Right. We didn’t have anything like that back then.”

“Alright. If we want to look cool for our juniors, we better play cool, right?”

“Yes! Captain!”

“Let’s give it our all for just one clean set!”

“Woah-!”

At the quarterback’s words – the field commander – the Fairmont Blue Puma players divided into two teams and faced each other.

“Eric, run for real.”

Time to show those juniors who California’s fastest player is.

“See those boys over there?”

“Okay.”

Though they’re elementary students, their physical conditions are believable as high school students.

Their philosophy is that anyone blessed with such bodies must play football.

They had to show an impressive performance to get them into football.

“Ready!”

“Okay! Three! Hut! Hut hut!”

The quarterback catches the ball thrown by the lineman, turns his body to block the opposing team’s view, and hands the ball to running back Eric.

At that moment, the sound of muscles twisting reaches his ears.

“Run!”

“Hup!”

Eric, nicknamed ‘Lightning’ with a 40-yard dash of 4.5 seconds, begins running through the gap the linemen created.

“Go! Go, go!”

“Waaaaah!”

“Kyah! Eric! Run… huh?”

‘What, cheer louder. You guys need to look good in the photos too.’

Eric, frustrated, turns his head and looks puzzled.

Eyes looking somewhere other than at him.

Following those shocked gazes, Eric nearly stumbled.

Tap tap tap tap tap!

“What, what?!”

Some kid is running alongside him with a camera pointed at him.

He was even overtaking him.

 

* * *

 

“Please! I beg you!”

The Fairmont Blue Puma manager and quarterback grab Johann tightly.

Amazing speed and agility that overtook Eric while wearing dress shoes – not football cleats, not even sneakers.

Physical ability that overwhelms all the monsters they’ve ever seen.

Talent born to play football.

“I’ll think about it. Well then, thank you for your hard work. Let’s go.”

I’ve shot everything I needed to shoot.

Now I had to move on to the tennis court.

Since they mobilized players for this shoot even though it wasn’t regular practice time, I had to finish shooting quickly.

Johann glanced at them looking desperately and turned around, while his friends approached with shocked expressions.

“What, what! Your 40-yard dash record is…”

“I’ve never run seriously before.”

Flinch!

“Not even once?”

“Not even once.”

I’ve run at full speed before, but never seriously.

Honestly, this wasn’t serious either.

‘I only absorbed and accessed a puma.’

The fastest thing in the world is a cheetah.

Cheetahs are faster than this, but they can’t run for long, so I can’t readily absorb and access them.

“Dear God…”

‘Hmm. Football does look cool and fun though…’

If I did play, I probably wouldn’t be a running back.

It was too easy.

 

“Take care! Come shoot us again next time!”

Rub rub rub!

“Ow, Emily.”

“Hold still.”

Emily, 1000 percent satisfied with Johann’s photos, finishes wiping off all the lipstick marks left by the tennis club sisters and finally shows a satisfied expression.

“Hehe.”

“Hehehe.”

Flash and the boys, who have lipstick marks all over their faces like Johann, grin foolishly. A tingling sensation throughout their bodies. Their whole bodies twist involuntarily.

“Men, honestly.”

“Mason, you come here too.”

“Huh? Why? Got it, Joy….”

“What about us?”

“You guys clean up among yourselves!”

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to, I don’t want to!”

“Hey!”

The children instantly become noisy.

Emily makes a worried expression.

“John, we are being helpful, right?”

“Of course.”

It’s not simply about helping people relax.

They even provide reflectors or lighting.

Of course, though they couldn’t capture it properly, since there wasn’t even that much in the era of ‘The Kiss by Alfred Eisenstaedt,’ even his friends’ clumsiness felt significant to Johan.

‘Lighting outdoors? What kind of luxury is this?’

For Alfred Eisenstaedt of ‘The Kiss,’ lighting was nothing more than the electric lamp that illuminated the dark interior.

John takes out a memory card and connects it to his laptop for Emily, who looks suspicious.

“Look. This is the photo we took together by joining our efforts.”

“…Wow.”

“Wow.”

The student advisor, who had been quietly watching from behind, also opens his eyes wide.

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah!”

“Perfect! Let’s shine all the light in the world!”

“I think it can shine even brighter!”

After putting in such effort, the children finish taking photos of all the other sports club athletes and head to the main auditorium.

“Whoa!”

“Wow!”

“My voice is echoing!”

A large auditorium that looks like the university lecture halls you see in movies and dramas.

“Teacher! Do the high school seniors study in such a cool place like this?”

“Ahem. It’s not like I’m here to study or anything….”

They only gather when there are special lectures by prominent figures such as famous entertainers, celebrities, politicians, or university professors.

Usually one day a week.

Only those who are interested are allowed to participate, but every time this large auditorium is packed with students.

The children gasp in even greater amazement.

‘Is this the kind of place where high school students do that kind of studying?’

‘Wow! Wow!’

Why am I still a senior.

I can’t wait to be in 9th grade.

“As a matter of fact, there’s another special lecture like that this afternoon too.”

That’s why I called John today.

He asked me to take a picture of that moment.

“And take pictures of the empty auditorium too?”

“Ahem.”

‘So that’s why you didn’t stop me.’

I wondered why I didn’t stop him when the lecture was in the afternoon.

“But it looks like there was a lecture in the morning too.”

John points to a blackboard filled with numbers and letters.

And the lingering presence of people filling the entire auditorium, as if it had been packed with people just moments before.

“Well, that’s right. Ahem. Then keep filming.”

‘A fashion design professor at UCLA would be much nicer to look at than that gorilla-looking Caltech physics professor.’

Caltech, which stands for California Institute of Technology.

Hiding his intentions, he took out a cigarette and left the auditorium, while Johan picked up the camera.

Click!

“What should we do?”

The children are more enthusiastic, perhaps because they just saw the results.

“First, Flash and Mason, go stand by the light switches. When I call out, turn them off and on one by one.”

“Got it!”

“The rest of you, come to the front of the blackboard with me.”

“To the front of the blackboard!”

Rumble!

The children who had rushed over, curious about what high school students learn, freeze up when they see the blackboard.

The same goes for John.

“Ugh! It’s alien language!”

“Since there are numbers, isn’t it math?”

“They use those alien-looking characters in math?”

The black thing is the blackboard, and the white things are letters and numbers.

All they understood were numbers.

Honestly, he couldn’t read more than half of those numbers.

“H-high school students study th-things like this…?”

“Should I quit?”

“No!”

‘Hmm.’

Should I delete this, or shouldn’t I.

“Since there are no students around, I guess it would be okay to erase it…”

“W-we shouldn’t erase it, right? I-it looks incredibly difficult.”

“Haven’t you seen the movie Good Will Hunting? The professor gives out problems like this! If you solve it, you get an A plus!”

“Oh! Is this one of those things too!”

Children looking at the blackboard with wonder.

‘Well, whether it’s important or not, I’ll find out.’

John closes his eyes as he enters the library.

“Search. Mathematician.”

Wooong!

‘Wow, look at those numbers.’

Johan frowned as he looked at one of the countless marbles that had shot toward him like machine gun fire before stopping right in front of his face.

A bead stained with somber gray.

 

[William James Sidis, the Tragic Genius]

 

‘Hmm… usually this kind of color means they die early.’

Whether it’s suicide, accidental death, or death from illness, people with serious mental afflictions have this kind of color.

“Well, I’m just looking into it for a bit.”

Something about it draws me in.

John thrust marbles as large as ‘the architect of rock and roll, Richard Wayne Penniman’ into his chest.

 

* * *

 

William Sidis.

Born in 1898 as the second of six children in a Jewish immigrant family from the Russian Empire, he disliked studying.

A father who immigrated to America to escape the anti-Semitic policies and persecution of the Russian Empire, learned English in just a few months, and entered Harvard University where he graduated early.

My mother, who graduated from Boston University School of Medicine despite not receiving a formal education.

For those geniuses, a son who started speaking at 6 months and read the New York Times at 18 months was like a treasure.

Intelligence superior to their own.

They thought he should be raised precociously through independent methods rather than regular education, and this became hell for William Sidis.

Education and discipline that forced him to think and act like an adult.

As a result, at age 8, he mastered 9 languages, wrote 4 books, created his own artificial language Vendergood, and corrected mathematics textbooks written by Harvard University professors.

And at 8, he entered Tufts University in Massachusetts, enrolled at Harvard University at 11, and was praised as a genius with the world’s most outstanding brain.

But that became another hell for James Sidis.

Students’ jealousy and envy, professors’ jealousy.

And excessive media attention.

The dark, sticky emotions poured onto a mere 8-year-old child eventually wounded him and gradually broke him down.

So he eventually ran away.

To a place beyond the reach of his parents’ and the media’s attention.

But even there, people recognized him, and he was exposed to the world once again.

The fall of a genius.

Tormented until the end, he eventually died of a heart attack at age 46.

As he was dying, he thought this:

‘Actually, I loved studying.’

It was a last word no one heard.

 

‘Ah.’

Feeling sorry for his miserable life was only momentary.

‘Ugh!’

My brain twists.

Something in my brain expands, and expands again.

Crack!

Terrible pain incomparable to physical transformation.

“Jo, Johann?”

“Ah, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

I was just surprised since it’s been a while.

‘This person… surpassed Little Richard with natural brains alone.’

Little Richard, who made people around the world cry and laugh as the architect of rock and roll.

Though he anonymously wrote numerous works during his lifetime, it’s truly an incredible talent and brain.

Johann, rubbing his nose that aches as if he’d been hit, looks at the blackboard.

‘Wow! Do high school students these days learn stuff like this?’

It’s a problem at a level that even graduate school students, no, even the great scholars of that era couldn’t solve.

‘The tragic genius, William James Sidis’ sticks out his tongue, saying the world has advanced too much in just 100 years.

‘It’s a problem with a very novel approach.’

I’d like to know who came up with it.

‘Ah, you could approach and interpret it this way too…’

“But why did you stop solving it midway?”

“Huh?”

“Wait a moment.”

Seeing the difficult problem makes my hands itch.

Difficult problems that during his lifetime he only solved in his own space due to excessive attention.

‘Let me try.’

It’s the price for borrowing talent and knowledge.

Johann brings over a nearby ladder, takes chalk, and stands in front of the blackboard where the problem interpretation was cut off.

‘Hmm, so this is how it was interpreted.’

Among the six blackboards, four were filled with solutions, but they had only dealt with the early part of the problem.

Still, this was enough for Johann.

“You’re going to write?”

“Wouldn’t it look better to fill up the blackboard?”

Since the older students are studying this kind of thing, they’ll be able to filter out what I write.

“…Oh! As expected of Johann! So smart!”

Johann grins and begins interpreting, continuing from someone’s interpretation. Though a better method comes to mind, this is also interesting.

Tap! Tap tap tap!

Soon, only the sound of chalk hitting the blackboard echoed in the main auditorium.

 

* * *

 

“Huh. Where’s the laser pointer?”

The precious laser pointer his daughter gave him with her first paycheck.

A middle-aged man in his 50s with a gorilla-like large build rummages around everywhere with a sad expression.

“Don’t tell me I left it in the main auditorium?”

He quickly gets out of the car and runs to the main auditorium.

‘It has to be there. It must be there!’

He’d be really sad if it’s not there.

The moment he opens the door to the main auditorium.

“Whoa?!”

“Oh, you should be careful.”

“So, sorry!”

“Kids, did you happen to see a pen-like object about this size inside?”

“Ah, we put that thing on the platform in the auditorium!”

“Ooh! Thank you. Be more careful from now on.”

“Yes!”

“Let’s hurry! I’m hungry!”

“I wonder what high school lunch is like?”

Young students rushing away in a crowd.

“…Fairmont really seems like a good school.”

Seeing how they allow field trips for such young students.

‘Students’ bags are quite unique these days.’

Children carrying or dragging bags of various sizes.

‘But that student… looks like the student Professor Richard from Stanford mentioned…’

Richard Marx, a neurology professor at Stanford Medical School who became a star among professors in an interesting way after appearing on California Evening.

He has a personal friendship with him, and at a drinking session after California Evening, he said that child must be kidnapped to the university at all costs.

“Oops.”

He shakes his head and quickly runs to the platform of the main auditorium.

“Oh, God. Thank you. Thank you.”

He’s really glad he didn’t lose his precious memory.

“Phew.”

The moment he lets out a long sigh and turns around.

“Huh?”

Looking at the blackboard, he tilts his head sideways.

The Poincaré conjecture that was left unfinished when the scheduled time ended.

One of the world’s 7 major mathematical problems and a problem that the renowned Russian mathematician Grigori Perelman proved a few years ago.

“I was writing this to entice them by saying they could learn such pretty and sexy problems if they entered our engineering college, but left it unfinished…”

Some of the remaining interpretation is written there.

And perfectly at that.

The formulas are so complex that even copying from an interpretation would often result in mistakes.

What’s certain is that it’s not his handwriting.

‘Who on earth could have done this?’

His head unconsciously turned toward the Main Auditorium door where he had encountered Johann.

“No way?”

Eyes widening, he frantically threw his body forward.

 

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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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