Muñeca nocturna - Capítulo 42
In the city, if the situation is indeed as described, people only leave their homes in the evening to deal with the most urgent matters.
When we met, we only exchanged brief greetings and talked about trivial matters, without mentioning what had happened yesterday and last night.
Not a word was mentioned about feelings. Yesterday people were full of youthful energy and unrestrained spirit, but now they are so shy and hesitant.
Some people felt this way because everyone felt guilty. Never before had the citizens of Grasse felt this way.
They lived in harmony and peace. People lived comfortably.
Of course, some people must rely solely on their positions to be more directly concerned with what is happening. (Public life)
The continuation of life, the upholding of the rule of law and order, demand swift action. Gentlemen, including the Second Senator,
They embraced silently, as if this gesture of vowing must reorganize the organization. Then they unanimously...
The resolution passed without mentioning what had happened, or even Grenouille's name, and decided to immediately send people to dismantle the forest.
The grandstand and guillotine on the boulevard were repaired, and people were sent to clean up the plaza and the surrounding trampled farmland, restoring them to their original state.
The coexistence of the clauses, one hundred and six Livors for this purpose
Meanwhile, the court hearing commenced. Without discussion, all officials unanimously agreed that the "Grenouille case" was over.
The case was closed, and the documents were archived and sealed without registration, and a case was opened for trial of a man who murdered twenty-five people in the Grasse area.
The girl's killer remains unknown. The meeting ordered the police chief to conduct an immediate investigation.
The following day, the murderer was found. Based on obvious suspicious points, Dominic Drew was arrested at the Louvre.
The perfumer on the street—all the victims' clothes and hair were eventually found in his shack. He began...
He initially denied everything, but the judges couldn't fool him. After fourteen hours of brutal torture, he confessed to everything.
He even requested that the execution be carried out as quickly as possible. The death sentence was scheduled for the following day. At dawn, he was hanged without a grand ceremony.
The scene was devoid of a guillotine or a grandstand; those present included only the executioner, several city officials, a doctor, and one...
A priest. After confirming the death and making a written record, the body was immediately buried. That was the end of the case.
It's over.
The entire city had already forgotten about it, and they were so thoroughly satisfied that they arrived in droves for several days afterward.
When travelers here casually inquire about the infamous murderer of young girls in Grasse, they can't find a single reasonable answer.
The wise answered their questions. Only a few fools at Charité Hospital, obvious lunatics, remained.
They talked incessantly about the grand event in the boulevard square, at which time they had to vacate their rooms.
come out.
Soon, life returned to normal. They settled down locally, devoted themselves to their work, and lived a peaceful and contented life.
Stay true to yourself. As before, water gushed forth from numerous fountains and wells, washing away the mud through the streets and alleys, and through the city.
It stands proudly, dilapidated, on the hillside of the fertile basin. The sun shines warmly. May arrives quickly. Everyone is harvesting.
Rose.
Section 11
Grenouille walked at night. As he had at the start of his journey, he avoided cities and main roads, traveling by night.
He hid and slept during the day, and got up at night to continue walking. He ate the plants and animals he found by the roadside: grass, mushrooms,
Flowers, dead birds, worms. He crossed Provence, taking a stolen boat across the Rhône River south of Aurém.
Follow the Ardèche River deep into the Séven Mountains, then head north through Allie.
In the Overtears Mountains, he approached Mount Cantal. He saw it to the west, its peak high, bathed in moonlight.
It appeared silvery-gray in the light, and he could smell the dry, cool breeze blowing from the mountain peaks. But he didn't want to go there. He
I no longer yearn for cave life; I have already experienced this and it has been proven that it is impossible to survive in a cave.
Similarly, living among people, he gained experience. In some places, people were suffocating. He simply...
The boy didn't want to live anymore. He wanted to go to Paris to die.
He kept reaching into his pocket to grab the small glass bottle containing his perfume. The bottle was almost full.
For that scene in Grasse, he used only one drop. The rest was enough to deceive the whole world. If he
He could command not only ten thousand men, but a hundred thousand, to cheer and go wild in Paris; he could scatter...
He could walk to Versailles and have the king kiss his feet; he could write a perfumed letter to the pope, declaring himself the new...
A savior; he could be anointed with holy oil in front of kings and emperors at Notre Dame Cathedral and become a supreme ruler, even...
To be God on earth—if He can also be anointed with holy oil as God…
He can do all of this if he wants to. He possesses that power. He holds that power in his hands.
This power is stronger than the power of money, the power of terror, or the power of death; it can inspire people to love.
An invincible force. This power has only one limitation: it cannot make him smell his own scent. Despite
He appears before the world as God through his perfume, only when he can no longer smell himself. Therefore, he is forever...
He didn't know who he was, so he was indifferent to the world, to himself, and to his perfume.
His hand, which had held the perfume bottle, exuded a soft fragrance; if he were to bring his hand to his nose and smell it...
Then he would feel depressed, and for several seconds he would forget to run away, just standing there, sniffing incessantly.
He thought to himself, no one knows how good this perfume is. No one knows how carefully it was made.
Others are bound to succumb to its influence, completely unaware that what works on them and confuses them is...
A perfume. The only person who truly appreciates its beauty at all times is me, because it is one I created myself.
At the same time, I am the only person it cannot deceive. I am the only person for whom this perfume has no effect.
On another occasion, when he arrived in Burgundy, he thought: "When I stood in the garden, the red-haired girl in the garden..."
The game, her fragrance wafted towards me… or rather, a harbinger of her scent, because she later…
The fragrance didn't exist at the time—perhaps what I perceived then was different from the scent I released onto the people on the boulevard.
The perfumes they smelled of were similar—but then he dismissed the idea: no, they were completely different. Because
I know what I crave is fragrance, not a young girl. But those people believe they crave me, and...
What do they truly desire? They always kept it a secret.
Later he stopped thinking about anything, because thinking wasn't his forte, and besides, he had already arrived in Orleans.
He crossed the Loire River at Syrie. A day later, his nose could already smell the rich aroma of Paris. 17
On June 25, 1967, at six o'clock in the morning, he entered the city via St. Jacques Street.
It was a scorching day, the hottest day of the year. A thousand smells and stench emanated from a thousand cracks...
It looked as if pus was welling up from a boil. There wasn't a breath of wind. It wasn't even noon yet, and the vegetables on the market stalls had already lost their moisture.
The fish had shriveled. The meat had spoiled. A foul stench filled the alley. Even the river seemed to have stopped flowing.
Instead, it stagnated and emitted a foul odor. This day was like the 100th day since Grenolden's birth.
He crossed the new bridge to the right bank of the river and continued towards the Cemetery of Alain and the Holy Infant. His remains were found on Rue de la Flèche.
He settled down in the arcade of the cemetery. The cemetery grounds lay before him like a bombed-out battlefield, the site turned upside down.
It was a mess, crisscrossed by ditches, littered with corpses, with no trees, no shrubs, no grass—it was death's garbage dump.
There wasn't a single living person to be seen. The stench of the corpses was horrible; even the gravediggers had fled. They were heading towards...
They would come back after sunset, and under the light of torches, dig graves for the next day's dead, working until nightfall.
After midnight—the gravedigger was gone—all the thugs, thieves, murderers, knife-wielding brawlers, prostitutes.
Women, deserters, and desperate young people all frequented this place. People lit campfires to cook and ward off the stench.
When Grenouille emerged from the arcade and mingled among the people, they did not initially notice him.
He could walk freely to the campfire as if he were one of them. This later sustained them.
My opinion is that he must be a ghost or an angel, a resurrected being, or a being beyond the natural world. Because...
Under normal circumstances, they are very sensitive to the approach of a stranger.
A short man in a blue coat suddenly appeared there, as if he had grown out of the ground, with one hand...
He was holding a small bottle with the cap already off. This is the first impression that everyone can surely recall:
A man stood there, a small bottle cap unopened. Later, he sprayed himself with the contents of the bottle.
Once again, it was as if it were poured with shimmering fire and beauty.
For a moment, they retreated. But in the same instant, they felt awe and astonishment towards him.
They realized that their retreat was more like a charge forward; their awe had turned into longing, and their wonder into joy.
Whew. They felt themselves drawn to this angel. A powerful attraction was emanating from him, it...
Like the pulling force of receding tides, no one can resist it, and at the same time, no one wants to resist it, because this...
It is the will itself that is being washed away by this receding tide, rushing towards the direction of the receding tide: rushing towards him.
They formed a circle around him, consisting of twenty or thirty people, but the circle kept shrinking and soon could no longer contain them all.
People started spreading, pushing, and kneading, each trying to reach the place closest to the center.
Later, their last obstacle was overcome; Zhou Zi was no more. They rushed towards the angel, pounced on him.
They threw him to the ground. Everyone wanted to touch him, everyone wanted something from him, like a small feather.
A tiny wing, a spark from his magical fire. They tore off his clothes, peeled off his skin, stripped him naked.
They grabbed his hair, pulled at him with their hands and bit his flesh with their teeth, pounced on him like a German Shepherd, pulled him, yanked him, dragged him.
However, a person's body is quite tough and not so easy to tear apart, even with a horse's tail.
It also takes a lot of effort. So, quickly, blades flashed, stabbing in and pulling out; axes and cleavers were aimed at Guan.
With a snap, the bone broke. In an instant, the angel was divided into thirty pieces, each of the group...
Having snatched a piece, driven by greed, they retreated and devoured the meat. Half an hour later, Jean-Baptiste...