(There will definitely be OOC moments, so please forgive me. Inspired by the German novel Perfume by Patrick Suskind. I think Grenouille fits the setting of Lobotomy Corporation quite well.)
The ghost of the old era, Baptiste Grenouille, awakens in the City, born without a blessing. Born in Sound Alley and raised in Scent Alley, he went from being food to becoming a chef for the first time, turning his own kind into dishes. Their exquisite aromas captivated everyone who smelled them.
In the crucible of scent, Grenouille is a born leader.
"This world is wonderful, just as I hoped it would be. People are born to be eaten. Either you eat people, or you get eaten. My wish is to create the most exquisite and rarest scent. I can cook anything into the most wonderful flavor." Grenouille thought this to himself, and acted accordingly.
A wicked protagonist born bad, who neither loves others nor is loved in return. Everyone who ever got close to him died, while fragrance alone endured forever.
Baptiste Grenouille is a ghost wandering Scent Alley. His wish is to obtain the most exquisite and rarest scent. No matter what, fate will make its choice for him.
(Old blurb: When Grenouille was born into this world, he was not blessed. His exceptionally talented mother had repeatedly thought of aborting him during her pregnancy, while the musical talent she had once been so proud of grew worse and worse. She was irritable and prone to anger during her pregnancy, but no one blamed this single mother for that. What they could not tolerate was how her music became ever more dreadful: blind, ugly, and nauseating. That was unforgivable in Sound Alley.
When she went into labor, she was alone in Sound Alley, looking for work. Unfortunately, her fingers were rough and kept cramping. She wasn't even as good as a basic apprentice. No one would hire her. In the empty, bitter wind, she cried out once. She gave birth, and she died.
She died because of him. There was no doubt about it. The child was like a curse, the embodiment of misfortune.
Before nightfall, an old woman found him. She made a living by taking in children. When she found him, his crying was faint and his eyes wouldn't open, but his nose was extremely sensitive. He kept sniffing, tirelessly, as if he had been born to smell everything.
Grenouille's memories of what came next are hazy. He was born with a disability and still couldn't speak at seven or eight years old. As he wandered the alley, exploring this filthy world with his sense of smell and a vacant stare, the other children living with him watched from the corners of their eyes, staring at him with fear and revulsion. They would sneak glances at him from behind, then look down whenever Grenouille happened to turn around. In truth, not one of them wanted to come near him. They avoided him like the plague, though they couldn't say why.
Grenouille was the longest-held child in the old woman's care, but not because she was kind. She raised children for a living in Scent Alley, and everyone around knew her. She took in tender young children and raised them. Even with barely enough food to get by, their initially small, tender portions of meat stubbornly grew. Sometimes customers came to choose a child. They looked over the frightened children, compared the quality of their meat, and sniffed them. Grenouille's gaze was the calmest of all. He seemed unable to understand what they were doing.
The gourmands of Scent Alley liked the children there: tender, with a little softness to their meat. They loved the smell of children, which they described as light and soft, like cream. It was a scent that made you feel happy just by smelling it. Such lucky ingredients made a warm, comforting stew.
From infancy until the age of eight, Grenouille was never chosen. The customers muttered and stared at this perplexing ingredient in confusion. He had no scent at all. He smelled like a smooth stone, enough to ruin anyone's appetite.
For children, those short lives could be considered carefree. They never had to worry about finding food. Their portions were small, but they could fill their stomachs by stealing from the other children. The bullied children were usually taken away before they could put up much of a fight, while the children who ate their fill grew fatter and became rarer. Grenouille was an outcast. Though he was always excluded, he survived by lying low, like a worm in the mud.
To the old woman, Grenouille was a money-loser. She had raised him for eight years and couldn't even sell him for what he had cost. He had eaten, drunk, and used her resources for eight years, yet no one loved him, not a single part of him.)
Theme: Having enough to eat
So interesting to write! I want to read the next story www