Hungersnot - Kapitel 32
Later, he gradually and meticulously focused on people. Initially, he used large-mesh nets to catch them from a safe distance.
He catches people by scent, because he is not in a hurry to obtain a large catch, but prefers to test the principles of his hunting methods.
He used his subtle, unnoticed scent as cover to sneak into the "Four Heirs to the Throne" tavern at night.
Among the customers inside, grease-soaked scraps of cloth were pasted under tables and benches, and in hidden shrines. A few days later, he...
These scraps of cloth were collected and tested. The test results showed that, in addition to any possible kitchen odors, tobacco...
Besides the flavors of wine, there was also a hint of human scent. However, this human scent was always very faint, indistinct.
It was more of a premonition of ordinary smoke than the scent of an individual. A similar, collective smell—but
It's become purer, and has been elevated to a higher level—the kind of sweat scent one can obtain in a cathedral. Grenouille at...
On December 24th, he hung his experimental strip of cloth under the bench; on the 26th, when people sat on the bench and...
After no fewer than seven Masses, he collected them again. A mixture of sweat from the anus, menstrual blood, damp armpits, and...
A horrible mixture of spitting hands, mingled with the indistinct murmurs of a thousand-person chorus and angelic blessings.
The breath exhaled from the throat, along with the suffocating mist of incense and myrrh, had transferred to the oil-soaked rags:
The indistinct, shapeless, and nauseatingly dense clusters are truly horrifying, yet undeniably...
It possesses human characteristics.
The first case of Grenouille's personal odor was obtained in a hospital ward. A bag-making worker had just died of lung disease.
Sick, he stole the bedsheet he had slept on for two months and was about to send to be burned. The bedsheet had absorbed the saturation of the bag-making worker's...
Human oils, so much so that they can absorb the scent emitted by a person, much like an ointment that extracts the fragrance of a flower, and directly...
Separation. Its result was like a ghost: right under Grenouille's nose, the bag-making clerk's sense of smell again detected the wine...
He was resurrected in the semen, though weakened by the unique replication method and the large amount of miasma from his disease.
He was ethereal and indistinct, yet he clearly emanated a personal scent throughout the room: a short, thirty-year-old man.
Golden hair, large nose, short limbs, flat, cheese-colored feet, swollen genitals, irritable temperament, and oral cavity
The musty smell—this bag-making guy isn't handsome, and judging from the smell, he doesn't deserve to be as long as that little dog.
It could be preserved for a long time. However, Grenouille still let it linger in his cottage as the spirit of scent all night, repeatedly.
He inhaled the scent, his heart filled with the feeling of being able to control another person's aroma, a sense of happiness and fulfillment. It wasn't until the next day that he...
It fell over.
During a winter day, he conducted an experiment. A mute beggar girl was walking in the city, and he gave her...
She paid one franc and made her sit there for an entire day, covered with rags treated with a mixture of various oils, on her bare skin.
Heaven. Luo Shizheng Gong was receiving the aroma of human scent. Lamb kidney fat and pork and beef fat that had undergone multiple refining processes.
The ideal mixture is a 2:3 ratio of lipids, with the addition of a small amount of aromatic oil that has absorbed human scent.
Grenouille stopped there after he had done this. He relinquished the complete possession of a living person, and gave up using him.
The idea of making it into perfume. But doing so would be risky and wouldn't yield any new knowledge. He knew...
Having already mastered the technique of forcibly extracting a person's scent, there's no need to repeatedly prove that this ability is unnecessary.
He felt that a person's scent itself was irrelevant. He could easily replicate a person's scent using substitutes.
What he sought was the scent of certain people: the scent of those extremely rare individuals who could evoke love. These were his...
The victims.
Section 9
In January, the widow of Alnufi married her head servant, Dominic Drew. Thus, Drew became...
They hired a glove maker and perfume expert. They hosted a grand feast for the guild leaders and casual meals for their employees. The lady...
She bought new mattresses for the bed she shared with Drew and took out her colorful clothes from the closet. Other
Everything was old. She retained the nice-sounding old name, Alnufi, kept full ownership, and maintained control of the business.
The shop's finance manager had the key to the basement; Drew, on the other hand, fulfilled his daily sexual obligations and then drank wine to recover.
Spirit. Although Grenouille is now the first and only worker, doing the hardest work, his pay...
The food was still meager, the meals were simple, and the living conditions were rudimentary.
At the beginning of the year, everyone was busy with large quantities of yellow hyacinth beans, hyacinths, violets, and other flowers that were quite pleasing to the eye.
Drunken daffodils. On a Sunday in March—Grenouille arrived in Grasse at the end of the year—Grenouille.
He then set off to the other side of the city to check on the little girl in the garden behind the city wall. This time, he was prepared and had already sensed something.
The scent told him what awaited him... but when he arrived at the new city gate, just as he reached the place leading to the city wall...
He caught a whiff of her scent halfway there. His heart pounded even harder; he felt the blood in his veins boiling with happiness.
She was still there; this incomparably beautiful plant had safely weathered the winter; she was full of sap and growing.
It was expanding, and the most beautiful flowers were blooming, drawing out her fragrance, just as he had hoped, growing stronger yet without losing its essence.
Exquisite, what seemed so delicate and fragmented a year ago, now appears to have coalesced into a slightly thicker, more viscous flow, presenting...
A thousand colors, yet it holds each color firmly, and they can never be separated. This Xianghe River,
Grenouille excitedly asserted that its source was growing ever larger. In another year, just one more year, just twelve...
When the moon shines, the spring will overflow, and he can then grasp it and capture the fragrance it exhales.
He ran along the city wall until he reached that familiar place; the garden was behind it. Although the girl was clearly not in the garden.
It wasn't inside, but in a small room with the windows closed, yet her fragrance wafted in like a gentle breeze.
He wasn't as infatuated or dizzy as he had been when he first smelled her. He was filled with the blissful feeling of a lover.
The lover was spying on or observing his beloved from afar, knowing that he would bring her home in a year. Indeed,
Renoir was a solitary tick, a monster, an irrational person who had never experienced love.
He had never aroused the love of anyone else, but on this day in March, he stood by the walls of Grasse, lost in thought.
Love, deeply enjoying the happiness of love!
Of course, he didn't love a person, not the girl in the house behind the city wall. He loved the scent. Only.
He simply loved it, nothing more, and loved it solely as something that would become his future self. He vowed, for a year...
I must bring it home. In this special vow or marriage agreement—this promise of fragrance to myself and my future partner.
Keeping his promise of loyalty—afterwards, he left the place in high spirits, passing through the palace gates and returning to the city.
Lying in his hut that night, he recalled the scent once more, and took it out—he couldn't resist the temptation.
Immersed in the fragrance, caressing it, while being caressed in return, so intimate, so close, as if he...
Truly possessing it, its fragrance, his own fragrance, he caressing it and being caressed by it, experiencing a mesmerizing...
A beautiful moment. He wanted to carry this feeling of self-admiration into his sleep. But just as he closed his eyes and only needed to...
The instant he could fall asleep with a single breath, that feeling left him, vanished abruptly, and was replaced by...
The room smelled of cold, pungent sheep pen odor.
Grenouille was taken aback. "If I were to possess this fragrance," he thought, "if this fragrance..."
The flavor is ruined, what can I do? Reality is different from memories; in memories, all the fragrances never disappear.
The true fragrance is meant to be consumed in the world. It will evaporate. If it's all gone, then the one I obtained it from...
The source will cease to exist. Then I will be left with nothing, just as before, forced to continue borrowing substitutes. No, love...
It's even worse than before! Because during this time I will come to know and possess it, my own wonderful fragrance, I will...
I will not forget, because I will never forget a certain fragrance. In other words, I will live my whole life relying on my memories of it.
Just as I am now living for a moment by reminiscing about this thing I am about to possess... then
What use would I have for it?
Grenouille felt extremely uncomfortable at the thought. The fragrance he didn't yet possess, once he did...
He thought it was terrifying—to have it, only to inevitably lose it again. How long could he hold on? A few days? A few stars?
Period? If he uses perfume sparingly, maybe it can last a month? What about after that? He saw the last drop was already...
I poured it out, then rinsed the perfume bottle with alcohol to avoid wasting even a tiny bit. Then I looked at it, smelled it, and...
Watch as his lovely fragrance evaporates forever, never to return. It's like a slow death.
A contrasting suffocation, a painful yet slow evaporation that makes it painfully and slowly evaporate towards the abhorrent world. — He felt
A chill ran down his spine. The demand to abandon his plans, go into the darkness, and leave this place assailed him. He wanted to cross over in one breath...
He crossed snow-capped mountains, venturing a hundred miles into the Auvergne Mountains, where he climbed into the cave where he used to live.
He wanted to sleep in the cave until he died. But he didn't. He sat still, and despite the strong urge, he didn't.
He made concessions to it, but he refused to concede, because leaving this place and climbing into a cave was his past.
His requirements. He already understood it. What he didn't yet recognize was the scent of possessing people, like the fragrance of those behind the city walls.
The woman's exquisite fragrance. Even though he knew that to possess this fragrance, he would inevitably have to pay the price of losing it.
The high cost, but he felt that acquiring first and then losing was more worthwhile than simply giving up both, because he
Throughout my life, I have experienced giving up, but I have never experienced possession or loss.
As doubts receded, so did the chills. He felt his blood rush back to his head, and he decided to...
The will to follow his plan had taken hold of him again, and his priority and drive were strong; because now Ge Zhi was no longer...
The desire for the long grassy slopes gave rise to a well-thought-out determination to leave office. Grenouille, this tick, faced stagnation.
Faced with the choice between collapsing or falling, he chose the latter, knowing full well that this might be his last.
I lay back down on my bunk, comfortably nestled in the grass, pulled the covers over myself, and felt like a true hero.
If Grenouille were to bask in a fatalistic sense of heroism for too long, he would no longer be Grenouille.
Yes. In this respect, he must possess an unwavering will, a resourceful nature, and a...