Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 13 The Mouse (Please read on!)
Lionel had no idea that a few jokes he casually rewrote from the "Laughing Forest Anthology: Monks and Taoists" had already caused the most serious "bloodshed" at Notre Dame Cathedral since Quasimodo pushed Claude Frollo off the tower.

He was now standing in front of a five-story "Ottoman-style" building across from the Second District Stock Exchange, facing off against an arrogant doorman.

“Excuse me, sir!” The doorman, dressed in a black trench coat, white gloves, a top hat, and tall leather boots, stood like a mountain before Lionel: “Entry to the building is by invitation only.”

Lionel sighed, "I'm just here to find someone. Do I really need an invitation?"

The doorman sized Lionel up and down, then gave a soft snort: "Sorry, sir, our 'Orby Trading Company' has very strict rules." He remained motionless.

Then Lionel watched as an elderly gentleman, dressed in fine clothes, wearing a top hat, and leaning on a cane, strolled into the gates of "Orby Trading Company" with a young woman by his arm.

The gatekeeper didn't even ask a question.

As one of the largest overseas trading companies in France, the "Orbi Trading Company" had quite a few people coming and going, but most of them arrived at the door in horse-drawn carriages, and even the least well-dressed people.

They naturally had no hindrance in coming and going.

Visitors like Lionel, who exude the very essence of "poverty," are the ones the security guards should be wary of.

Even if he was a top student at the Sorbonne and a future elite, in the eyes of the gatekeeper, he was no different from a vagrant or a beggar when he couldn't afford a fine private carriage or a beautiful custom-made suit.

Outside of the campus, Lionel could more acutely feel the divide created by class differences in this era.

Now he can no longer get through that door with a few witty remarks, just as he did with Albert.

Lionel could only leave the front of "Orby Trading Company", turn a corner, and find a coffee shop to sit down and think of a solution.

A waiter from the café quickly stood beside him: "Sir, what would you like to order? We have a newly launched afternoon tea set, which includes a standard espresso, a slice of Provençal-style cream mousse, and a..."

Lionel interrupted his rambling: "Just give me a black coffee, no sugar."

The waiter's face quickly fell, but he still bowed slightly: "Yes, sir, as you wish!"

After the black coffee was served, Lionel casually picked up a copy of "The Little Daily" from the coffee shop's newspaper rack and started reading it while drinking.

Petit Journal was the first newspaper in France to be sold by the "copy" rather than sustained by a "subscription," and it was also the first cheap newspaper in France, with a single copy costing only half the price of other newspapers at the time, hence the "petit" in its name.

As an inexpensive mass-market newspaper, it resolutely adheres to the principle of "depoliticization." Although it still publishes important government news on the front page, literary serials, social oddities, and gossip are the main reasons why people buy it.

Lionel had just finished reading the front-page headlines when he noticed a somewhat furtive-looking man sitting across the small round table. He was probably in his twenties, wearing a short jacket typical of the working class, with brown hair peeking out from around his beret. He had grey-brown eyes, a high, thin, sharp nose, and a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.

Lionel looked around and found the café nearly empty with plenty of empty tables, so he asked, "Good afternoon, you...?"

The man's lips curved into a full smile, revealing a bright grin: "Good afternoon, my name is Noah, Noah Dupont." He then extended his hand.

Lionel did not shake his hand, but instead leaned back slightly warily.

The man named Noah Dupont didn't seem to care, and withdrew his hand without any embarrassment: "You want to enter the 'Orbi Trading Company' building?"

Lionel didn't answer, but instead asked, "How do you know?"

Noah Dupont leaned back in his chair with a nonchalant grin: “I’m making a deal with someone across the street… Am I right? Artur—the bear who’s blocking your way—is a complete snob.”

Lionel relaxed slightly and vaguely guessed the other party's intentions: "What, do you have a way to help me bypass him and enter the building?"

Noah Dupont leaned forward and held up one finger: "Two francs, give me two francs and I'll take you in."

Lionel scoffed, "Two francs? Are you crazy, or did I mishear? I might as well just give it to that bear named Artur!" Two francs was almost equivalent to a laborer's daily wage.

He had actually been about to do that, but there were too many people coming and going, making it inconvenient to act. Noah Dupont hadn't expected Lionel to refuse so decisively, and to see right through his plan, but giving up was never in his nature: "You think it's too expensive? Then there's another way, only one and a half francs, no less!"

Lionel remained expressionless: "One franc, no more than that!"

Noah Dupont didn't hesitate for a moment: "Deal!"

Lionel paused for a moment, then added, "I'll pay after I'm allowed inside."

Noah Dupont's smile remained unchanged: "No problem! Have you finished your coffee?"

Lionel downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, placed the newspaper on the table, and then weighed it down with a sou copper coin before leaving with Noah Dupont.

The waiter quickly came over and collected the coins and newspapers. Watching the two figures walk away, he gave a mocking look: "A penniless wretch and a rat..."

Lionel followed Noah Dupont through several turns in the streets and alleys until they arrived at the back of the "Orby Trading Company" building, in a dirty and smelly alley.

Noah Dupont held out his hand to Lionel: "Give me five sous."

Lionel looked bewildered: "I haven't even entered the building yet!"

Noah Dupont said with a grin, "It's an advance payment; I can't possibly pay for it myself, can I?"

Lionel had just received his 20 francs payment and was still relatively well-off. After a slight hesitation, he took out five sous and handed them to the other party.

Noah Dupont took the coin and stuffed it into his pocket: "You wait here."

He then walked to a door and knocked a few times. A moment later, the door opened, and a fat, large-eared head popped out. Upon seeing Noah Dupont, the head glared angrily: "You liar..."

Noah Dupont quickly pulled out the five Su he had just acquired from his pocket, handed them to Big Head, interrupted the spellcasting, and then whispered a few words.

The big head turned towards Lionel, looked him up and down, then turned back to say something to Noah Dupont before shrinking back.

Noah Dupont then beckoned to Lionel to come to the door: "After Artur rejected you, you went around to the back alley, found this door unlocked, and entered the building without permission. You went through the kitchen and laundry room and came to the office area... Do you understand?"

Lionel nodded, and Noah Dupont smiled with satisfaction. He then took off his hat, turned it upside down, and held it out to Lionel.

Lionel readily tossed the remaining 15 sous into his hat, and Noah Dupont bowed to him, saying, “Good luck, sir! If you need to enter any place again—even the Countess’s bedroom—you can come here to find me.”

"That's me, 'Mouse Noah'!" Then he whistled and left.

Lionel watched the other person's back disappear around the corner, shook his head, pushed open the door, and went inside.

Just as the mouse had predicted, the entrance led first to a smoky kitchen, then to a steamy laundry room. The busy cooks and laundry workers didn't even glance at him, as if he were invisible.

Lionel, knowing better, remained silent and tiptoed past them. After pushing open a spring-loaded door, the world before him suddenly changed—

The luxurious corridors, carpeted with thick layers of fabric, were brightly lit even during the day by gas lamps, making them dazzling and radiant. Clerks in suits hurried to and fro, carrying various documents. Laughter and shouts occasionally echoed from the offices…

For a moment, Lionel felt as if he had returned to the 21st century and was in a CBD office area.

Business is indeed always the most dynamic part of this world!

However, this was not the time for reflection. He needed to find an office where he could look up "Emil" as soon as possible, otherwise his attire would be too out of place here, and he would easily be recognized and thrown out the door.

(End of this chapter)