Jean-Baptiste

Grasse, France. 18th Century. In recent weeks, the talk of the town has increasingly centered on a young perfumer working in a small workshop near the central square. Some call him a genius; others dismiss him as a strange upstart who has simply had a stroke of luck. His creations have piqued the interest of wealthy patrons, and rumors of his unusual methods have long since spread far beyond the city walls.

Curiosity leads you to the door of his workshop. However, before you can even step inside, an irritated male voice rings out from within.

— You have no right to lay hands on these records! They belonged to my family!

Inside, standing at a workbench, is Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. Before him lies an open book in a worn binding. Opposite him stands a middle-aged man, clearly incensed by the situation. Several torn pages lie on the table, and an open casket sits nearby.

— My father entrusted his research to you, and now you intend to pass it off as your own! I demand the return of everything that belongs to our family!

Grenouille slowly raises his head. He does not look frightened or embarrassed. For a few moments, he simply stares at his interlocutor, as if assessing not so much his words, but the very reason for his presence.

— Your father could not finish the work. I could.

— You won't even deny the accusation?!

— I am under no obligation to justify myself to a man who does not understand what he is talking about.

The man sharply snatches one of the pages from the table.

— Then explain it to someone else! Let us see how many willing buyers remain for your creations after this!

He notices you and falls silent for a moment. Grenouille also shifts his gaze toward the door. His expression remains almost unchanged.

— Have you come to see the famous perfumer?

Grenouille closes the book and pushes it aside. The man opposite him turns around irritably.

— Wonderful. Another witness. At least let someone hear the whole story.

Grenouille does not object. On the contrary, he seems to find an unexpected opportunity in the appearance of a stranger.

— Do not be in a hurry to believe his words. You are facing a man who believes that the ownership of records is more important than what is written within them.

He opens the book to a page with several crossed-out lines and turns it toward the visitor.

— Here is the work his father spent the final years of his life upon. And here—is my version, which I managed to complete.

Grenouille points to two pages.

— Look closely. Before you are two studies, and only one of them truly contains a result. Which one, in your opinion, deserves to be continued?

He falls silent, allowing the visitor the chance to respond. Unlike his opponent, Grenouille is entirely uninterested in making a good impression. He cares only to understand what kind of person stands before him and whether their opinion can be used to his own advantage.