Lionel had no idea that a few jokes he had casually rewritten from 'The Extensive Records of Laughter: Monks and Daoists' had caused the most serious 'bloodbath' at Notre Dame since Quasimodo pushed Claude Frollo off the bell tower.
He was currently standing opposite the stock exchange in the Second District, at the entrance of a five-story 'Haussmann-style' building, confronting an arrogant doorman.
"Sorry, sir!" The doorman, dressed in a black trench coat, white gloves, a top hat, and long leather boots, stood before Lionel like a mountain: "Only those with an invitation may enter the building."
Lionel felt a bit helpless: "I'm just here to find someone. Do I really need an invitation letter for that?"
The doorman scrutinized Lionel from head to toe, then let out a soft 'hmph' from his nose: "Sorry, sir, the rules of our Orby Trading Company are very strict." His body remained motionless.
Then, Lionel watched as an old gentleman in fine clothes, wearing a top hat and leaning on a cane, escorted a young woman and leisurely entered the main door of the Orby Trading Company.
The doorman didn't even ask them a question.
As one of France's largest overseas trading companies, a considerable number of people frequented the Orby Trading Company, but most arrived by carriage, or at the very least, were dressed quite respectably.
They, of course, entered without hindrance.
Visitors like Lionel, who exuded the scent of 'poverty' from head to toe, were the main focus of the doorman's vigilance.
Even if he was a top student from Sorbonne College, a future elite, in the doorman's eyes, he was no different from a tramp or a beggar when he couldn't afford a fine private carriage or a beautiful custom-made suit.
Outside the campus, Lionel could more genuinely feel the chasm created by class differences in this era.
Now, he couldn't, as he had with Albert, rely on a few witty remarks to gain entry through this door.
Lionel could only leave the entrance of the Orby Trading Company first, turn a corner, find a cafe, and sit down to think of a solution.
The waiter at the cafe quickly stood beside him: "Sir, what would you like? We have a newly launched afternoon tea set, which includes a standard espresso, a slice of Provence-style cream mousse, a portion of..."
Lionel interrupted his chatter: "Just a black coffee, no sugar, please."
The waiter's face quickly fell, but he still bowed slightly: "Very well, sir, as you wish!"
After the black coffee was served, Lionel casually picked up a copy of Le Petit Journal from the cafe's newspaper rack and began to read it while sipping his coffee.
Le Petit Journal was the first French newspaper that could be retailed 'per copy' rather than maintained by 'subscriptions', and also the first cheap French newspaper, with a single copy costing only half of other newspapers at the time, hence the 'Petit' in its name.
As a cheap popular newspaper, it strictly adhered to its principle of 'depoliticization'; although it still published important government news on the front page, literary serials, social curiosities, and gossip news were the main reasons people bought it.
As Lionel finished reading the front-page headlines, he noticed a somewhat shifty-looking man sitting opposite him at the small round table. He appeared to be in his twenties, wearing a short jacket common among the working class, with brown hair peeking out from under his beret, grey-brown eyes, a high and sharp 'knife-like' nose, and a faint smile playing on his lips.
Lionel looked around and saw that the cafe was sparsely populated, with plenty of empty tables, so he asked: "Good afternoon, you...?"
The curve of the man's lips immediately became fuller, revealing a brilliant smile: "Good afternoon, my name is Noah, Noah Dupont." He then extended his hand.
Lionel did not shake his hand but leaned back slightly, alert.
The man named Noah Dupont didn't mind, retracting his hand without any awkwardness: "You wish to enter the building of the Orby Trading Company?"
Lionel was noncommittal, instead retorting: "How do you know?"
Noah Dupont leaned back in his chair in a slouching manner, with a cynical smile: "I was doing a deal with someone across the street... I'm right, aren't I? Arthur—that bear who blocked you—is a complete snob."
Lionel relaxed slightly and vaguely guessed the other party's intention: "So, you have a way to help me get past him and into the building?"
Noah Dupont leaned forward and held up a finger: "2 francs. Give me 2 francs and I'll take you in."
Lionel scoffed: "2 francs? Are you crazy, or did I mishear? I might as well just give it directly to that bear named Arthur!" 2 francs was almost equivalent to a day's wages for a laborer.
In fact, he had just been about to do that, but there were quite a few people coming and going at the time, making it inconvenient to act.
Noah Dupont didn't expect Lionel to refuse so directly, and to immediately see through his plan, but giving up was certainly not his personality: "You think it's too expensive? Then there's another way, only 1 and a half francs, no less!"
Lionel was expressionless: "1 franc, no more!"
Noah Dupont didn't hesitate for a moment: "Deal!"
Lionel was taken aback, then added: "I'll pay after I can get in."
Noah Dupont's smile remained: "No problem! Have you finished your coffee?"
Lionel tilted his head back, drank the remaining coffee, placed the newspaper on the table, and put a 1 sou copper coin on top of it, then followed Noah Dupont out.
The waiter quickly came over, collected the copper coin and newspaper, and looked at their retreating figures with a mocking expression: "Poor wretch and a rat..."
Lionel followed Noah Dupont through several turns in the streets and alleys, arriving at the back of the Orby Trading Company building, a dirty and foul-smelling alley.
Noah Dupont extended his hand to Lionel: "Give me 5 sous."
Lionel looked bewildered: "I haven't even entered the building yet!"
Noah Dupont said with a grin: "Consider it an advance payment. You can't expect me to pay out of my own pocket, can you?"
Lionel had just received 20 francs in manuscript fees and was relatively well-off, so after a brief hesitation, he pulled out 5 sous and handed them to the other party.
Noah Dupont took the coin and tucked it into his pocket: "Wait here."
He then walked to a door and knocked a few times. After a moment, the door opened, and a fat-headed man peered out. Upon seeing Noah Dupont, he glared: "You cheat—"
Noah Dupont quickly pulled out the 5 sous he had just received from his pocket, handed them to the big-headed man, interrupting his outburst, and then whispered a few words.
The big-headed man turned towards Lionel, looked him up and down, then turned back and said something to Noah Dupont, before retreating inside.
Noah Dupont then waved Lionel over to the door: "After Arthur rejected you, you circled around to the back alley, found this door unlocked, and thus entered the building without permission, passing through the back kitchen and laundry room, and then arrived at the office area... Understand?"
Lionel nodded, and Noah Dupont then showed a satisfied smile, promptly took off his hat, turned it upside down, and held it out to Lionel.
Lionel also straightforwardly threw the remaining 15 sous into the hat, and Noah Dupont then bowed to him: "Good luck, sir! If you ever need to enter any other place in the future—even a Countess's bedroom—you can come find me here. 'Noah the Rat,' that's me!" Then he whistled and left.
Lionel watched his retreating figure disappear around the corner, shook his head, pushed open the door, and walked in.
Inside the door, as the 'rat' had said, was first the smoky kitchen, then the steam-filled laundry room. Busy cooks and laundry workers didn't even glance at him, as if he were invisible.
Lionel also prudently remained silent, tiptoeing past them. After pushing open a swing door, the world before him suddenly changed—
A magnificent corridor with thick carpets, brightly lit everywhere by high-intensity gas lamps even during the day, dazzling; smartly dressed office workers hurried back and forth with various documents; laughter or angry shouts occasionally emanated from the offices...
Lionel momentarily felt as if he had returned to the 21st century, standing in a CBD office area.
Business, indeed, was always the most dynamic part of this world!
However, this was not the time for sentimentality. He had to quickly find the office where he could inquire about a person named Émile, otherwise, his attire here was too out of place and he could easily be exposed and thrown out the door.