“4498… 4499… 4500.”
Balthazar finished counting the coins in his iron chest behind his sleeping pillow, feeling both satisfaction and concern.
He loved counting his money and seeing its number grow larger and larger every day, but by his estimations, that chest would be full once it reached 5000 gold coins, and that was a problem.
Not only had he not been able to find any adventurers carrying large containers they were willing to sell lately, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure where he’d put it.
He liked to keep his treasure close at night, but there wasn’t much room left in his tent, between the chest, his pillow, and all the many baskets of pastries surrounding it, there just wasn’t anywhere to store large sums of money like that.
Madeleine had told him during one of her recent visits that people in town with lots of money keep their valuables in places called “banks” in exchange for a small fee. That sounded like complete nonsense to the crab.
Paying someone to keep your coins? The whole point of having them was the satisfaction of holding them, counting them, playing with them, hugging a pile of them at night before falling asleep.
And even worse, what if they lose your precious coins? No, smart crabs don’t trust banks.
The problem was not just the coins, either. Adventurers were selling more and more loot every day, and no matter how fast Balthazar tried to offload it to the next adventurer who came around, his stock of junk continued growing, and slowly taking over the pond, crates and shelves being filled faster than poor Druma could put them together.
Truly, Balthazar was a crab suffering from success.
As he sighed, the bright yellow reflection of his many coins shining on him, Balthazar heard a woman’s voice from across the bridge.
“Excuse me, is this the crab’s trading post?”
“That’s right, this is the spot, and I am the crab,” Balthazar answered, stepping out of his tent.
On the other side stood a middle-aged woman, long black hair with two white strands emerging from the center of her hairline, falling over her black vestments of many layers and folds. Her large blue eyes shot at the crab as he appeared, and a wide smile appeared on her face.
Balthazar felt slightly uncomfortable.
[Level 42 Alchemist Witch]
“Oh, excellent, excellent!” the woman said, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “Just who I was looking for.”
“Can I help you?” Balthazar asked as he joined her on the other shore.
“Such a magnificent specimen, you are!” The strange woman began walking around the crab, looking him over, hands still held against her chest. “And the stories were true. You really do talk!”
“Yes, I do, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped checking my behind now, please.”
“May I ask how that happened? Was it some kind of spell? Enchantment? Perhaps a curse gone wrong?” The witch gasped. “Don’t tell me you’re actually a prince and if I give you a kiss, you will turn back into a human?”
“What?! No, why would that ever… Look, I don’t know what kind of weird stories your head is filled with, but I’m here to do business, so if you’re not here for that…”
“Oh, come now,” she interjected, “is that a way to treat a lady?”
“I wouldn’t know, but seems to me like the way to treat witches who aren’t here to sell or buy anything.”
“I am an alchemist,” the woman said, her smile quickly vanishing from her face for a moment. “And you are wrong in your assumption. I am here to do business.”
“Great. Then what are you here to sell or buy?”
“I’m looking for rare alchemy ingredients,” she responded, a smile already back on her face.
“Sure thing,” Balthazar said, moving to a shelf filled with multiple clay pots and glass jars. “I got plenty of flowers, mushrooms, plant leaves, and much more. What’s it going to be?”
“The ingredients I seek are rather… difficult to find.” She pulled a folded piece of parchment from her sleeve, opened it, and started reading it. “Do you by any chance have… troll’s blood?”
“Uh… no, I don’t,” the crab said, hesitantly.
“A werewolf liver?”
“Wha—no!”
“Spider broodmother glands?”
“Why would I… what the hell kind of poison are you planning to make?”
“Oh, no, no. No poison at all. Just some ingredients for some homemade recipes, nothing nefarious, I promise you.”
“Either way, I don’t have any of those things, and I’m not sure I’d want to, anyway.”
“Such a shame, really. But say, on a different subject,” the witch said, moving around the crab again, trailing a black fingernail on the surface of his shell, “this is a beautiful pond. I’m sure it looks incredible at night, if you were interested in giving me a tour of it later.”
“Look, lady…”
“Please, let’s not stand on ceremony,” she said, an intense smile on her face. “My name is Velvet, but feel free to call me Velvie.”
“I will not, but thanks,” Balthazar said, increasingly uncomfortable, while sidestepping away from the witch. “If there’s nothing else you’re looking to buy, I really got lots to do.”
“There is one more ingredient I am looking for,” Velvet said, taking another step closer to the nervous merchant.
“If it’s not a common petal or some random fungus, I probably can’t help you.”
“It’s something I know for a fact you have. And being such a fine gentleman, you wouldn’t leave a lady hanging, I’m sure? I’d be willing to pay almost anything to have it.”
“Err… and what would that be?” Balthazar apprehensively asked.
“Nothing much, just one, maybe two giant crab legs,” the witch casually said, batting her eyes at Balthazar.
“You… you want what now?!” the bewildered crustacean exclaimed.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“A crab leg, that’s all.”
“You want one of my legs? Lady, are you out of your mind?!”
“Oh, come now, dear, it’s just a leg. You got seven more. You could easily be a sweetheart and spare one for a girl in need.”
“No! They’re my legs. I’m very attached to them!”
“That’s not a problem. We can take care of that without you even feeling a thing.”
“You’re nuts, get away from me and out of my pond, witch!” Balthazar said loudly, nearly shouting.
“I really, really need the contents of it,” the desperate alchemist pleaded, putting a hand on one of his pincers and looking straight into his eyes. “I’m sure we can reach some sort of agreement.”
“Are we interrupting?” a man’s voice said from the road entrance.
The crab and the woman turned to see a pair of figures standing by the pond’s entrance. One had a bow on his back, a large basket in his arms, and a slightly embarrassed expression on his face, while the other carried a basket in each hand and looked at them with one eyebrow raised and an air of suspicion.
“Not at all!” Balthazar quickly said, moving away from the black clad woman. “Madeleine, Rye, please, come in. This madame witch was just leaving!”
The expressions on the archer and the baker changed, becoming visibly apprehensive. Rye put his basket down slowly and rested his hand on his waist to give him quick access to drawing his bow. Madeleine spoke first. “Witch, you said? Your client’s not causing any trouble, is she, Balthazar?”
“As I explained before, I’m an alchemist,” Velvet said, no longer smiling, while sizing up the two arrivals. “And I take it you two are his clients as well, yes? Well, I’m not done yet, so if you don’t mind waiting your turn…”
A frown formed on Madeleine’s face and she opened her mouth to speak, but Balthazar interjected before she could get a word out. “Ha ha, no, no, they’re not clients, they’re here for… a delivery. Yes, that’s it, a delivery. So now, if you don’t mind, I really have things to take care of.”
“My, that is so impolite of you,” the woman said, not moving a step. “Not to mention unprofessional. I thought you were a merchant? We’re not done haggling yet, are we?”
“Yes, we are! I already told you I’m not selling what you’re after.”
“Balthazar, what is going on here?” Madeleine asked. “What does this woman want?”
“She—”
“Oh, now, now,” Velvet said, interrupting Balthazar as she turned to the baker. “The adults are talking. You shouldn’t stick your nose in, little miss.” She gave a sly smile. “But if you want to know so badly, Balthie and I were discussing the price of… parts of his body.”
“Balthie??” the crab repeated, befuddled.
“The price of… what the hell?” the baker exclaimed, her face turning red. “What kind of dealings are you making now, Balthazar?”
“Me? None! This crazy woman came in here and started trying to buy one of my legs!”
“Oh, darling,” the witch said in a dramatic tone as she bent a knee and grasped the crab’s left pincer. “I would take all of you, but if I cannot, even just a leg would satisfy my heart’s desire.”
Balthazar stared, perplexed, at the woman, and then at Rye and Madeleine. He was lost for words and actions. His face would be turning red at that moment if he had the skin for it.
“Mate, are you sure you’re alright?” Rye said, a concerned smile on his face. “Did she cast some kind of spell on you, or something?”
“Oh!” Velvet exclaimed. “I am the one who has been put under a spell. From the moment I laid eyes on you, Balthie, I knew I had found the one.” She placed the back of her hand against her forehead in an exaggerated pose.
“Guys,” Balthazar pleaded. “Come on, you don’t seriously think I have anything to do with this… this witch, right?!”
“I don’t know,” Madeleine said, her face an even brighter red now. “Maybe she offered you some nice sweets? That would probably sway you, wouldn’t it? Maybe we should take these back to town, if you’re already set here?”
“Ah, you must be a baker, are you not?” Velvet asked, eyeing Madeleine’s white blouse and skirt.
“So what if I am?” the girl responded, defiant.
“That’s adorable,” the witch said with a wide smile, before turning back to Balthazar and placing her piercing blue eyes close to his. “I could prepare you concoctions sweeter than anything you’ve ever tasted, my dear. If you’d just be a little more… friendly with me.”
“Wha… No!” Balthazar said, loudly, as he stepped away from her, trying to snap himself out of his befuddlement. “You should leave. I want to trade nothing with you, and I definitely do not want to be your friend!”
A large piece of rock with eyes appeared above a shelf and smiled at the group. “Friend?”
Velvet looked up at the golem towering above her from behind the shelf, and then at the pair by the entrance, one with a hand on his bow, and the other with her hands on her hips, her face looking ready to fume. A goblin wearing a wizard hat joined them from across the bridge too, attracted by the noise and commotion.
“Well,” the witch said, her smile no longer as smug, “I can see there’s no swaying you at the moment, and that your… friends aren’t going to let us conduct business. So maybe I will get going.”
“That would—” Balthazar started saying, before a very loud baker interrupted him.
“Yes, that would be best. Good day to you. The road is over there. Be on your way.”
The witch in black began calmly walking to the exit, taking a moment to turn her head back to the crab.
“We’ll catch up on our business some other time, darling.” She winked at him before walking away, her dark vestments waving behind her.
“That was… weird.” Rye said, taking his hand away from his bow.
“You’re telling me?!” Balthazar said, feeling as though he had been holding his breath that whole time and only now could finally exhale. “I don’t know where that one came from, but she gave me the weirdest feelings in… Rye?”
The archer was looking over the crab’s shell with a scared expression. As Balthazar turned, he encountered the baker who was leaning down towards him, wrists against her sides, her freckled cheeks a bright crimson, green eyes shooting daggers at him.
“Would you like to tell us what was that all about?”
The crab gulped, unsure why he was so intimidated by a small baker, but still sure he didn’t want to find out either.
“I—I—I’m not sure,” Balthazar stuttered. “She first came here wanting some weird alchemy ingredients, and then she says she needs one of my legs for something she wanted to make. It was all very weird. I’m just glad you two showed up.”
“Yeah, ha ha, right, good thing we did. Who knows what your new suitor would have done to you otherwise,” Rye nervously said, attempting to lighten the mood. Unsuccessfully.
“Yes, Balthazar,” Madeleine said, tapping her foot on the ground rapidly, “what would have happened if we didn’t show up? Would you have let the witch do her weird stuff to you? You seemed very flustered in her presence!”
“Of course not! And… I’m not exactly used to some of your strange human behaviors! I just don’t know how to act around them! There, you happy now?”
Madeleine pulled back and exhaled, losing some of her ire. “I was just concerned about you. I know about witches. They are evil and tricky, and you… well, you’re a grumpy crab, but you’re our grumpy crab. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Balthazar stared at her for a moment, confused. “So, wait… you were worried about me? And because of that… you also get mad at me? What the hell kind of sense does that make?!”
“I don’t know!” Madeleine exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “That’s just what people do sometimes!”
“You humans are an irrational bunch,” Balthazar said, shaking his shell.
“Yeah, well, maybe so,” the archer started saying, with a sheepish smile, “but at least we can make great pastries, right?”
The crab and the girl continued looking away from each other, both with their arms crossed.
“Oh, come on, you guys!” Rye said. “That was a witch. Their class’s whole thing is being tricky, manipulative, and sowing discord. You two are friends. Are you really going to let her have the last laugh by staying upset at each other?”
Madeleine sighed. “Rye is right. I rarely get this upset at things, but… I really lose it when it comes to the ones I care about being in trouble. I’m sorry I got mad at you, Balthazar.”
Balthazar looked at her from the corner of his eyes, without uncrossing his arms. “Fine, I accept your apology.”
Rye gave him a look of disapproval and nudged the crab’s shell lightly.
“And fine, I… I apologize too, for anything.”
The archer groaned and rolled his eyes.
“It’s alright,” Madeleine said. “I’m sure that took a lot of effort from you, so I’ll take it. Just please, promise me if you ever see that witch again, you’ll run the other way, with all your eight legs!”
“Don’t need to tell me,” Balthazar responded, finally relaxing, “I don’t want to go through that kind of discomfort ever again.”
“Hey now,” Rye started, with a smirk, “maybe a witch would be the perfect match for your grumpiness, eh?”
They both looked at the smiling adventurer with the same sour expression.
Druma, who had been sitting on the ground under the golem’s shadow with his legs crossed and quietly observing since joining them, finally broke the silence.
“Druma hungry. Can eat now?”
It was the middle of the afternoon, and Balthazar was sitting on his cushion by himself, chomping away at one of the chocolate cookies Madeleine had brought him. Chocolate was something new to him, and delicious, yet another marvel of human foods he could never have imagined before, but despite the sweetness of it, his mood was still sour.
Whoever that strange witch woman had been, she managed to catch him off guard. All his wit, cunning, and intelligence served him of little when she started acting so oddly around him.
The archer and the baker kept teasing him during their visit about how he was “flustered” because of her, whatever that meant, but all Balthazar knew was that there was something about her, something around her that made him feel… disarmed. And a crab without arms is as good as a dead crab.
Balthazar had been racking his brain for an explanation ever since that encounter. Surely it must have been some kind of magic, a spell, perhaps? She was a witch, after all. But also an alchemist, so maybe a potion? But he was sure he didn’t drink anything around her. Maybe a potion sprayed in the air, like a perfume? He did notice she smelled quite nice, so maybe… no, surely it was some kind of evil magic. It had to be. Damnable magic users and their stupid magic.
Stuffing another whole cookie in his mouth, Balthazar tried focusing on something else and not think about Velvet and her waving black hair any more.
A young girl with a small crude bow on her back was browsing his shelf of arrows nearby, and he decided to place his focus on her instead.
“Hey, you. Gonna buy anything or just wear all my items out with your eyes?” the crab said in a bitter tone.
The adventurer looked at him with a slightly offended expression. “For a merchant, you’re kind of rude, you know?”
“And for a supposed client, you’re kind of not buying anything, you know?”
The girl huffed and turned around to leave. “Keep your junk, crab.” She stopped for a moment and looked back. “And maybe lay off the cookies. The way you’re going at them soon you won’t fit in that shell anymore.”
Balthazar felt annoyance rising inside him. How dare she imply he’s getting chubby? Does she not know crabs don’t get fat?
But he also felt a hint of guilt. He always disregarded everyone’s accusations of being a grump, what do humans know about crabs anyway, but even he had a hard time not seeing it now. And for someone who fancied himself a merchant, that was not the best behavior to have. What good was his speech if he was using it to antagonize possible clients?
He needed to get his shell back in the game.
As the young girl was reaching the exit to the road, two other adventurers were arriving.
“Good day,” one of them greeted, with a nod to the girl.
“Maybe for you. That one over there seems to be having a bad one,” she responded, pointing her thumb back to the crab, “and wants to make everyone else have the same, apparently. Don’t let him snip you.”
The two men—both level 25 fighters—raised their eyebrows as they made way for the girl to leave, following her with their gaze as she passed. Once she was no longer within earshot, they turned their attention to Balthazar, who had gotten up and crossed the small path over the water to join them. “Did something happen with that one?”
“Ah, just an unsatisfied customer. Guess not even I can keep a perfect record. But don’t mind that, I’m sure you didn’t come here to chat. So, what’s it going to be, buying or selling?”
“Aye, you’re right, we’re in a bit of a rush,” the first adventurer said, while the other moved to the shelves and began browsing through them. “As for your question, a bit of both. We heard a giant has been spotted somewhere to the west, in the plains, and we are going to head there, but don’t got time to go into town. So we figured we’d stop here, get some supplies for the task, and offload any unnecessary extra weight.”
“A giant? Just hope that doesn’t come this way, that’s not a client I’d want. What kind of supplies will you be needing?”
“Let’s see,” the adventurer began, while rubbing his chin and looking around. “Rope. The biggest coil of the thickest rope you got.”
Balthazar skittered his way to a nearby crate and retrieved a large bundle of rope from within.
“A hook, too. Steel, extra large.”
Putting the rope down, the merchant fetched a metal hook, larger than his right pincer.
“Oh, and a saw. Gotta be a strong one, though.”
Placing the hook next to the rope, Balthazar turned and called out. “Druma! Get the big saw, the one for big wood logs.”
After a few moments, the goblin came running in his usual jumping pace, a huge, sturdy saw in his arms.
“Is that going to be all?” the merchant asked the adventurer, as his assistant hurried back to his tasks across the bridge.
“Hmm,” the client said as he looked around some more. “Oh, and four bottles of the cheapest wine you got, too.”
“Sounds like it will be a gruesome party.”
“The wine isn’t for us. Well, maybe a little after. But apparently giants like booze too, so that will be the bait.”
“Very well,” Balthazar said, as he returned with four bottles of wine held in his pincers. “Is payment going to be coin or trade?”
“Ah, right. I mentioned we needed to drop any unnecessary weight. And I don’t really see the point in heading out on a giant hunt with this heavy thing on me.”
The adventurer opened his pack and reached inside with some effort, pulling out a solid piece of metal, its yellow shine reflecting the sunlight nearly blinding Balthazar as it hit his eyes. It was an ingot, similar to the iron and silver ones he had used to upgrade his claws, except this one was made of pure gold.
Balthazar attempted to keep his jaw from dropping, as his greed nearly addled his brain. He had seen thousands of gold coins at that point, and while their novelty still hadn’t worn off, a large slab of solid gold like that was a whole new thing for him, and he knew he had to have it.
“This would sell for a lot in town,” the man said, “but we don’t got time to go there, and it weighs a ton, so I’m hoping you’ll accept this in exchange for all the supplies. We’re kind of short on coin right now, too.”
“Mhmm, yes, it’s an interesting offer,” Balthazar said, feigning consideration.
“Ah, damn it, I get it. Maybe we should just run up to town. Why would you want this thing down here? Not like adventurers would wanna buy a gold ingot before going out.”
“No, no!” the crab hurriedly said. “I understand your situation, and because members of the Adventurer’s Guild are such good clients of mine, I’m willing to accept this item as payment, just to help you guys out.”
“Really?” the adventurer asked, with a smile. “Great! That will save us a lot of time. Appreciate it, crab! You really aren’t as bad of a grump as everyone says.”
Taking his new items and signaling for his partner to follow, the two adventurers left with quick steps, heading out into the plains.
“A grump. Hmph!” Balthazar muttered. “These humans don’t know how to appreciate a crab. I’m a ray of sunshine. When they aren’t making my life miserable.”
As the usual listing of traded items passed through his vision, an extra line presented itself.
[You have reached Level 8!]
“Oh,” the crab exclaimed, surprised. “That hadn’t happened in a while. Thought this thing had gotten tired of giving me experience. Not that I would know, since it doesn’t show me that part!”
Still annoyed at the system in front of his eyes, he begrudgingly upped his Intelligence as usual, from 17 to 18, but a sudden hunch stopped him before proceeding to the skills menu.
Turning his attention to the gold ingot on the ground in front of him, Balthazar tried picking it up with his silver pincer. He struggled, the item being much heavier than he expected. With the aid of his stronger iron claw, he finally held the precious bar in front of his face, marveling at its beauty.
“I wonder if this one could be used for upgrades like iron and silver were…”
[Upgrade Shell with [Gold Ingot]?]
[Yes | No]
Balthazar’s eyes widened as he read the prompt in front of him. “My… shell?!”
He had already upgraded both of his claws to great results, but his shell felt like a much more important thing to change. He took great pride in his shell, always keeping it well polished and free of any disgusting limpets. Changing it sounded almost scary to Balthazar.
But then he took another look at the gold he was holding, with its scintillating glint, and his iron and silver pincers, and his doubts evaporated. His two previous experiments with imbuing gave him two fantastic claw upgrades, so this could be nothing but a great choice, surely.
[Imbuing rank C required for upgrade]
“I knew it! Trying to trip me up, weren’t you, little system? Too bad for you I’ve got too many legs for that.”
Wasting no time, the smug crab navigated to the Imbuing skill and upgraded it from D to C before returning to the upgrade prompt. Selecting “Yes” on the message, Balthazar rolled his eyes at the system that yet again taunted and annoyed him.
[Hammer required]
Stolen story; please report.
“Why oh why do I need a hammer,” Balthazar muttered to himself, as he crossed the bridge, “I don’t even know how to use it. Just a pointless requirement. I swear this thing is designed to irritate me.”
Balancing the heavy ingot on his iron pincer, the crab took a hammer from Druma’s toolbox with his silver one. “Just going to borrow this for a moment. Don’t worry.”
The goblin looked at his boss with curiosity, but didn’t question it. Even a goblin with 4 Intelligence knew better than to question the peculiar crab at that point.
Returning to his purple cushion, Balthazar held the gold ingot and the hammer, prompt up and ready to be confirmed.
“Alright, here it goes. I can’t wait to see what I get.”
As he selected “Yes” on the question, the gold ingot disappeared from his hand as the others had before.
Clink!
The same sound from before ringed inside Balthazar’s shell, despite the hammer being motionless in his pincer, except this time the sound came accompanied by a sharp pain between his eyes, as if something heavy and blunt had just struck him.
His vision blurring, the crab fell prostrate on his cushion, dazed by the invisible impact. Before he could string a coherent thought, a new sensation took over his body. Like a squeeze, he felt his entire body—the soft one inside his shell—being pressed from all directions by an unseen force.
“AHHHHHHHH!” Balthazar yelled, the edges of his shell feeling as if cracking under an internal pressure.
“Boss, boss!” Druma shouted, rushing to the crab’s aid. “Why boss screaming?”
“Druma,” he tried saying, his voice faltering. “Druma… get… Ahhh!”
Balthazar felt his body pressing outwards, as if trying to escape his own shell, and slowly being squeezed out of it. His vision fading from the pain, he mentally cursed the stupid, unhelpful system, the hammer, and even that one last cookie he ate, before passing out.
***
[Molting…]
“Wha… what?”
[Molting finished.]
“Huh?”
[Shellupgraded to [GoldenShell] (+5Charisma)]
Balthazar lifted his face from the damp sand, the world around him still spinning. A goblin wearing an oversized wizard hat stood above him, looking down with concern.
“Is crab boss alright?”
Bouldy was on his hands and knees next to Druma, observing Balthazar too.
Trying to stand back up, he found himself slightly heavier than he remembered. Damnable delicious chocolate cookies.
“I… I think so. What happened?”
“Boss go to sleep from pain! Boss start squeezing out of shell! Gross!”
Balthazar looked behind, realizing he had apparently dragged himself a few paces from the cushion he had been sitting on before passing out.
With shock, he saw his own shell lying on the cushion, empty and cracked on the front, where his face used to be.
“Then boss come out yellow!”
“Yellow?” the disturbedcrab asked. “What do you mean, yellow?!”
Trying to redistribute his strength around his newfound extra weight, Balthazar made way to the edge of the water and looked down at his reflection on the crystalline water surface.
He had a brand new shell around him, shiny and polished, a golden finish over what looked like his old gray chitin.
“Wait. What did it say? Charisma?”
Balthazar rushed his eyes to the status menu, to see what had changed.
[Status]
[Name: Balthazar] [Race: Crab] [Class: Adept Merchant] [Level: 8]
[Attributes]
[Strength: 3] [Agility: 2] [Intelligence: 18]
[Skills]
[Charisma: S(+5)] [Medium Armor: B] [Speech: B] [Fishing: C] [Slashing Weapons: C] [Reading: C] [Imbuing: C]
“What the hell is Charisma?!” the befuddled crab exclaimed, before navigating to the list of skills.
[Charisma: S(+
5)]
[The trait of being likable and charming to people you interact with.]
“What?! This is useless! I’m already naturally likable and charming!”
Bouldy and Druma were staring at the golden crab, a mix of confusion and concern in their expressions.
Balthazar paced around, still trying to get used to his extra weight. He looked at his iron and silver pincers, as well as his legs, all unchanged. This change had been a much harsher experience than the upgrades from before, and the result was not what he had expected at all.
“You had to get the last laugh, didn’t you, system?” he muttered, sounding slightly deranged. “Couldn’t just tell me what the upgrade does before I take it, had to make me take the gamble. Well, joke’s on you! I’m going to do like Madeleine does and not let this get me down, ha! I love gold! Why wouldn’t I want to wear it all over my beautiful shell!”
“B—boss? Is boss alright?” Druma asked, looking mildly scared of the crab’s behavior.
“Never better!” Balthazar said, giving a jump in place. “Just need to move around a little, break this new shell in, get used to the weight of it, and I’ll be perfect! Shiny and perfect!”
Balthazar walked over to a jar next to his old empty shell and took a chocolate cookie from it.
“Who needs this old thing now, when I can be golden!” he said, with great confidence, as he chomped on the cookie.
He didn’t need this so called “Charisma” for anything. He already had plenty of natural charm, he was sure of it, but so what if the upgrade was wasted on something he was absolutely sure he’d never need? His brand new golden shell was more than enough of a reward. Fashion, baby!
Leaving a confused goblin and golem on the islet, Balthazar walked across the bridge and to the road, facing the nearly setting sun and letting its warm raysbathe him with open arms, his new carapace reflecting the light like a beacon.
“Psst!”
The crab broke out of his trance and looked around, confused.
“Psssst! Over here!”
Balthazar tilted his shell and looked at a nearby bush.
“Hello?”
A head wearing a black hood and mask popped out of the bush. “It’s me, Rob.”
“Oh, it’s you,” the shiny crab said to the thief. “How’s the hand?”
“It’s… better. Thanks…”
“Wait. You’re not hiding there to steal from me again, are you? Hands off my shell!”
“No. No! I told you, I never want to feel that pincer again,” Rob said, wincing, before looking the crab up and down with raised eyebrows. “But hey, that’s a really nice shell you got now.”
“Thanks… I guess. But then, if you’re here, does that mean you have some news to tell me?”
“Yes, but it’s not good.”
Night had long settled over the pond, its access road empty and in a silence only broken by the chirping of a cricket or the soft breeze passing through the rustling leaves of a nearby bush. The sky was overcast and hid the moon’s glow from the land, leaving the small sparkles of fireflies that danced over the plains as the sole lights in the darkness, tiny dots of yellow so dim they illuminated little more than the blades of grass around them.
Without so much as a footstep sound preceding it, light erupted from the dark over the stone road, a flame lighting a small iron lantern held by a figure dressed entirely in black leathers, with only a small window between the hood and mask revealing his eyes.
From behind him, two other figures appeared, equally dressed in stealthy gear that muffled their movements and allowed them to blend in with their nighttime surroundings.
One was a stocky man with very broad shoulders who wore nothing over his completely bald head, while the other was a slim woman of small stature, only made smaller by standing next to the man accompanying her.
The one holding the lantern spoke first, in a hushed tone that reached no further than the ears it was meant for. “Alright, this is the place. Remember, we can take whatever we want, but we gotta make sure we don’t leave without planting the medallion somewhere.”
“And if the crab or the goblin wake up?” the other man asked, in a low and deep voice.
“Knock them out if necessary, but no killing. Client says that would get half the Adventurers Guild to look into what happened, and we don’t need that kind of attention either.”
“Who’s the client and why do they care so much about this stupid crab, anyway?” asked the woman.
“Don’t know,” the leader of the trio said, “and considering how much gold he put in our hands, I don’t care to know either. Now let’s get in and get this done.”
The man snuffed out the light from the lantern and the three of them quietly moved into the area surrounding the pond.
Pointing two fingers to his own eyes and then to the center islet, the leader ordered the larger man to go there and keep watch. The other nodded and started crossing the bridge, a large club held tight in his hands, while doing his best not to make the wooden floorboards creak.
The woman moved in between a group of crates, looking for one not sealed, while her boss began looking for a good spot on the shelves to place the gold medallion held in his left hand.
As the lookout reached the center of the pond, he saw a very dim light coming from inside the tent. With careful steps, he approached and peered inside, where he saw the back of a gray carapace, quietly resting on a large purple cushion, barely illuminated by a small oil lantern sitting in the corner.
As he began backing away from the seemingly sleeping crab, something caught his attention. Something that wasn’t right about that shell, and as he squinted and tried looking closer amid the surrounding darkness, he made out the details on the edge of the chitin, like cracks and fissures. His eyes widened as he saw it hollow. The shell was empty.
Meanwhile, the small thief was trying to quietly pry open a crate when a small shuffling sound made her turn around.
But nothing was there.
Still suspicious, she turned back to the crate, when the same noise came again, except much closer this time, and accompanied by a sudden orange light appearing behind her back.
She quickly turned to the flame of a lit torch dancing in front of her, forcing the woman to take a moment to readjust her eyes to the sudden brightness. As she looked past the flame, she saw a goblin, its head barely higher than her waist level, but made to look slightly taller by a worn out wizard hat on its head. The creature smiled at her with sharp yellow teeth. “Helloooo!”
The woman yelled, disgust on her face as she rapidly drew a dagger and swiped at the goblin, but the creature was gone, leaving only the bright flame of the torch burning on the dirt floor.
Alerted by the scream, the thief in command stood up from the shelves, looking for the cause of the commotion, when his attention was captured by the man on the other side of the bridge, waving his club up in the air. “It’s a trap!”
Quickly stuffing the medallion in one of his pockets, the thief noticed something moving around the tree behind his partner on the opposite shore. A strange glow, something reflecting the tiny amount of moonlight that passed between the clouds. Something shiny and golden.
“Behind you!” the leader shouted.
The other thief turned to see the large golden crab appearing from behind the thick tree trunk that separated them, two large pincers held open, one much larger than the other, but both with a metal shine to them.
“We’re closed now. You should come back tomorrow!”
With a quick jab, Balthazar wrapped his iron pincer around the large man’s shin and squeezed.
The thief howled in pain and faltered, but did not fall down.
“Huh. Feels like steel plates under that. Lucky,” Balthazar said, before shouting past the thief holding his leg in pain. “Bouldy, light the fire now!”
With a quick turn, the thief’s leader looked past the shelves, trying to identify what was causing such loud shifting noises. With fumbling fingers, the man lit his lantern back up, just in time to see a thick arm made of stone reach past him and hold its hand above a fire pit composed of several wooden logs covered with thick oil and surrounded by a circle of stones. The hand struck two of its rocky fingers together, producing several orange sparks that fell over the wood and set it ablaze with a fiery roar.
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As the flames from the pit lit the surrounding trading post, the baffled prowler followed the length of the stone arm all the way up to its head, standing nearly twice as tall as his own. A wide face of stone looked down at him with two smooth orbs reflecting the orange brightness from the fire. The rock smiled, and the man stepped backwards, tripping on his own feet and falling on his back.
Opposite of him, the small frame of the woman thief was frantically looking around, searching for the goblin. “I freaking hate goblins! Where are you?!”
“Druma magics you!” the small creature yelled, as he jumped on top of a crate, staff in hand, pointed at his target.
The nimble thief tried rolling for cover behind a rock, but the glowing green bolts that came shooting out of the staff hit her mid-jump, sending her flying straight into the pond with a loud splash.
“Yes! Druma magic! Druma get thief!” the goblin yelled, jumping up and down on the crate in celebration.
Stumbling back to his feet, the leader of the thugs tried to run for the exit.
“Don’t let him get away!” Balthazar shouted to the golem from the other side. “Grab him!”
As the panicking thief turned to face the road, a stone hand grabbed him by the foot and lifted him up with great ease, holding his upside down face in front of the golem’s friendly smile. “Friend?”
“No, you dolt, he’s not a frien—”
Balthazar barely had time to skitter back and narrowly avoid the strike from the man who was no longer holding his leg in pain, and was now limping his way towards the crab with rage in his eyes, and a very thick club in his hands.
“That pincer… really… hurt,” the panting man said. “Can’t wait to rip it out of you and see how much it will sell for.”
With a much quicker motion than his stature would suggest, the man lifted his club and smacked it down on the ground in front of Balthazar, who barely managed to dodge it.
“A little help over here?!” Balthazar yelled. “I don’t wanna become crab soup tonight!”
Bouldy lifted his gaze from the man he was still holding upside down and looked towards the crab with his back against the tent’s wall, and the burly thief approaching with his club held high, ready to bring it down once within reach.
“Friend!”
Dropping the leader of the thieves on the ground like a sack of rocks, the golem broke into a sprint, making the ground shake with each step as he rushed to the center islet.
Stumbling from the quickly approaching quake, the club-wielding man looked back just in time to see a huge backhand of stone coming right for his chest, swatting him away like a pestering mosquito, and launching him against the tree’s bark with a loud crash that caused the old trunk to shake and several leaves to break off from their branches. The thief landed on his face, motionless.
“Wow, Bouldy… you actually—“
A sloshing sound cut Balthazar’s words short as he turned to see a soaked woman emerging from the shore, dagger in hand, blade held forward in his direction.
She was moving too quickly and Balthazar had nowhere to back away to.
“You crabby son of a—”
The crab recoiled, putting his pincers up in front of his eyes and hoping she wouldn’t strike anything vital.
“Hmmrph!”
Balthazar peeked over his iron claw.
The woman was clawing at her own face, struggling to untangle herself from a piece of tattered, worn out undergarments that had just fallen from the branches above them and right on the thief’s head.
“I can’t believe those bloomers were still up there!” Balthazar exclaimed.
“You leave boss alone, thief!”
Coming out of the corner of his eye, Balthazar watched as Druma kicked the blinded thief on her shin, before smacking her knee with his wooden staff, causing her to fall to the ground, unmentionables still wrapped around her head.
“Druma got you now,” the goblin said, while taking a coil of rope off his shoulder and quickly beginning to wrap it around the thief’s arms.
Remembering there was still one thief left, Balthazar scanned the shoreline opposite the islet until he spotted the leader of the gang, trying to stand up and make his way to the road.
“Bouldy, don’t let him get away. Grab him!” Balthazar ordered, pincer firmly pointed at the man.
With a nod, the walking boulder quickly crossed the water to the other side and pinned the fleeing criminal to the ground with one rocky hand.
“Yes! Good job!” Balthazar cheered, both pincers held high in victory. “We got them. Druma, help me tie the big one before—“
As the crab rotated to face the previously unconscious man under the tree, he saw a shadow loom over him, a bulky figure rising with one arm up, club in hand.
“Screw this job.”
Before Balthazar could react, the blunt weapon fell upon him, hitting his shell right above the eyes, and the world went spinning away.
[Health: 5/100]
[He~?th: #/¿0$]
[System Failure]
[…]
Balthazar couldn’t see anything other than the text in his eyes.
[System Restoring…]
All he could hear was the familiar sound of his pond’s waterfall, always present in his daily life. Except more distant, and somewhat… distorted.
[System Error]
“Ow… shut up, stupid system thing, my head hurts.”
[System anomaly detected]
“No, you’re an anomaly!”
[Unidentified parameters]
[Checking System…]
“Why do you gotta be so chatty now of all times? When I actually want information, you never explain anything!”
[System version out of date]
Balthazar could swear he was feeling the smell of fresh pie.
[Attempting update…]
“Yes, please. Some pie would be great right about now…”
[Update failed]
“Huh?”
[System connection failed]
Balthazar strained to see through the darkness around the text, but nothing was there, only an approaching sound, like tiny feet… no, nails, tapping their way closer.
[…]
“Ow!” Balthazar felt something… pecking at his shell.
“Oh no, anything but the stupid birds!”
Still unable to see anything or move, Balthazar listened closely, until a sound of rustling feathers took off, followed by the fading sound of wings flapping away.
[System Rebooting…]
“BLARGH!”
Balthazar’s eyes shot up as he awakened, coughing and weaving, with red liquid spilling from his mouth.
Thankfully, it was not blood, as crab’s blood is not red.
How did Balthazar know that when he had never so much as suffered a scratch in his entire peaceful pond life? He wasn’t sure.
Just as he wasn’t sure why he was finding that to be the time to ponder about the color of his blood, seeing as he was also lying upside down on his shell.
Rocking from side to side, Balthazar propped himself back onto his eight legs. He still had them all, which he found to be a good start.
Trying to focus his blurry vision against the bright light of what seemed to be the sunrise, a familiar set of words appeared in front of his eyes.
[You have reached level 9!]
“Oh, you’re still here,” the crab complained. “I was half hoping you’d be gone for good once I woke up.”
“Boss… boss want Druma gone?”
Balthazar turned around, his senses still trying to figure out his surroundings. He was in front of the tent, with Druma standing nearby, his hands clasped around an empty glass vial in front of his shirtless chest. He had an expression of great sadness in his eyes. “Is because Druma use magic?”
“What… no! No, no, I wasn’t talking about you, Druma! You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, you did great… uh, last night, I think? How long was I out?”
The goblin’s long ears perked up and a joyful grin opened across his face. “Thank! Druma no run this time! Druma get thief!”
He jumped in place with glee, empty bottle still in his hands.
“And boss sleep for many hour. Druma start to think boss no wake up no more. So Druma get heal potion and give it to boss.”
“That explains the red liquid, I guess. Wait, you said I was out for hours? And you only decided to give me a healing potion now?!”
The goblin’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down at his feet.
“Boss say heal potion cost much gold. Druma scared boss get mad for using potion. Druma will work more to pay potion.”
“Oh, for the love of… forget about that, it’s fine,” Balthazar rubbed his shell above his eyes and picked up a silver plate from nearby, to check his reflection on it. “No cracks and still perfectly golden. Hmm, maybe gold isn’t that bad of an armor material as they all say. Or could it be that…”
Balthazar looked up at the sky with a pensive expression. No birds in the air that morning.
“Wait! What happened to the thief, the big one that hit me with the club? Don’t tell me he got away?!”
“No, no! Druma and big rock get thief!” the goblin perked up again and pointed to the other side of the bridge, where three thieves lay chest down, tight ropes tied around their wrists and ankles, while a tall golem watched over them. The boulder smiled and waved his massive hand at Balthazar.
“When big thief hit boss,” the goblin began, “Bouldy come running. Druma hit thief face with magic balls from magic stick. Thief fall. Bouldy smack thief. Thief go to sleep again. Druma tie thief.”
Balthazar took a moment to process everything that had happened.
He had survived the blow from the club, that was good, but he had come dangerously close, judging by the health value he remembered seeing. 5/100. But what happened after? The “system” thing seemed to… break? He couldn’t remember the details. It was all like a fading dream. There was an error, and then… how was it fixed?
“Damnable birds!” Balthazar said, shaking a claw up at the sky, where a distant flock of the feathered creatures flew. “Why do you always show up to ruin my day!”
Trying to take his mind off the unpleasant beings, Balthazar went inside his tent and checked under his hiding spot. The Scroll of Character Creation remained dormant as ever, not a sign of activity ever since that first day.
He really wished whatever that system was came with a better instructions manual, but by that point the crab had come to accept he would probably never learn much more about it.
It was not as if he could ask someone about it either. They’d probably start asking too many inconvenient questions, or worse, they would try to take everything away from him.
Besides, who could he ask about it? Almost everyone he knew were adventurers, and those idiots barely knew how to tie their own shoes. What could they possibly know about systems, levels, or skills?
“Boss?” Druma called, interrupting the crab’s thoughts about how shoelaces were supposed to work.
“Hmm… uh, what? What is it?”
“What boss want to do with thieves?” the barefoot goblin asked. “Boss want Druma to poke thieves with stick?”
“Oh, that’s right, those guys,” Balthazar said, snapping out of his pondering. “No. No poking. At least not yet. I got better plans for them. But speaking of thieves… I’ll be right back.”
Balthazar reached inside the tent and took a small coin purse into his pincer before skittering his way across the bridge, passing the golem and his three prisoners, each of the thieves glancing at the crab with scorn.
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Reaching the road, he approached a nearby bush.
“Hey, you. Still there?”
“Yes, but keep it down!” Rob’s voice said from the bush. “I don’t want any of them to hear us.”
“Oh, come on. Why are you so afraid?”
“Maybe you don’t get it, but after this I still have to go back to town, back to the alleys, and the thief’s life. That gets complicated if word gets out that I sold out a group of fellow thieves.”
“Hah! Honor among thieves, is it? I thought you would all be out for yourselves. But even you got some kind of code of ethics, eh?”
“Code? Ethics?” Rob repeated, perplexed. “No, man, they just break your legs if they find out you’re a snitch, that’s all!”
“Hang on,” Balthazar said. “Did you stay in that bush the whole night?”
“Yeah?”
“Never left? Not even when you saw that guy knock me out? You didn’t do a thing?”
“Maaaaan, what part of me being a coward have you not grasped yet? You want me to gather information in town, that’s one thing, but expecting me to fight that walking wardrobe? Hell no!”
“Alright, whatever. Good job on bringing me word Antoine’s goons were coming. Here’s your payment.” Balthazar tossed the coin purse into the bush. “Now go back to town and stick to our plan.”
The crab stood in front of the bush, waiting. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
“I’m not stepping out of this while you’re there. That’d be too conspicuous. What if they see me? Go away. I’ll leave when I’m sure nobody’s watching.”
Balthazar shook his shell in exasperation and walked back to his trading post, where the captured thieves remained waiting. Not of their own will, of course.
***
“An outrage, I tell you!”
“Yes, yes, I heard you the first dozen times.”
“I couldn’t believe it. The gall! The audacity! Right outside our town’s gates!”
A guardsman from the town of Ardville walked down the road from the south gate, accompanied by a lavish merchant who couldn’t seem to shut up, much to the guard’s dismay.
“This just better not be a waste of my time,” the guard said to the merchant. “I skipped on breakfast to come here, and if it turns out it was for nothing, I don’t care if you’re friends with the captain or the mayor, I’ll toss you into the Black Forest and leave you there.”
“I wouldn’t dare waste the time of our esteemed guards if my information wasn’t fully reliable,” Antoine said.
Reaching the entrance to the pond, the two men found Balthazar already waiting for them.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” the crab said.
“Uh… are you… Balthazar?” the guard asked, hesitantly.
“Sure am. And you must be part of the guardsmen of Ardville, judging by your immaculate yellow armor.”
“I… yes, I am,” the man said, running a hand down the length of his yellow-dyed leather chest piece, straightening it out before continuing. “I’m sorry, I heard about a talking crab, but now that I came down here, I’m actually still surprised. You really do talk, and quite well, I must admit.”
Growing visibly impatient, Antoine stepped forward.
“Can we save on the pleasantries?” the merchant man said. “May I remind you we are here on official business, of the most important lawful kind?”
“That’s right,” the guard said, clearing his throat. “Mister Antoine here has informed me that yesterday a piece of precious jewelry was stolen from his store, and that according to his sources, your trading post down here handles the transaction of that and many other stolen goods with well-known criminals.”
“In other words,” Antoine said, his smile twisting his pencil mustache into an even more ridiculous shape, “you, crab, are dealing with stolen goods, and now the law has come to shut you down.” He turned to the guard again. “I assure you, if you search this… dump he calls a trading post, you will find the described gold medallion with an emerald. Perhaps hidden somewhere, but he received it from the thieves, I have no doubt.”
“I can save you the time,” Balthazar said. “Come with me.”
The crab headed down the path to his pond, the two intrigued men In tow. As they entered the larger area preceding the pond’s shore, a large platform floor made of crude wooden boards extended in front of them, a large portion of it occupied by a variety of crates, shelves, and tables, each displaying all sorts of random items one would find at a general trader.
But what really got the attention of the guard and the merchant was the towering golem at the center of it all, watching over two men and a woman sitting on the floor, all tied up.
“Is… is that a real golem?” a perplexed Antoine asked.
“Ah, yes, that’s my personal guard,” Balthazar answer, in a casual tone. “Say hello, Bouldy.”
The living boulder smiled and waved his hand at the two men.
“And what’s the meaning of this?” the confused guard asked, pointing at the three tied up figures in front of them.
“These are the three thieves we caught last night, trying to rob my trading post. And I believe this,” Balthazar said while revealing a gold medallion with an emerald from his silver pincer, “is the stolen item you were both looking for. The thief in the middle had it on him. Perhaps they were on a thieving spree, hitting all the general merchants of the area. First Mister Antoine here, then me. Luckily, we got them.”
“Preposterous!” the irate merchant exclaimed. “The crab is clearly trying to play us for fools! He knew we were coming. Somehow, I don’t know how! And he set it all up!”
“I don’t see why I would do that,” Balthazar calmly said. “If I was actually fencing stolen goods, and I knew the guardsmen were coming, I would simply get rid of the medallion, and any other stolen goods, and tell the thieves to not be here. Why would I be serving up my own customers and my precious contraband to a guard?”
“He… he kind of has a point,” the guardsman said, looking slightly baffled.
Stepping up to the trio of thieves, the guard looked at their faces closer.
“I know these three. We’ve caught them multiple times before, always stealing something. You got anything to say in your defense?”
The leader remained silent, while the muscle of the group showed his disdain for the guard by spitting on the floor, and the woman called the guard a colorful name.
“Well,” the guard started, “didn’t expect to come here and walk away with my job done for me so easily and so quickly, but I’m not complaining.”
“What?!” Antoine blurted out. “You can’t be serious! You are clearly being tricked by this… this crab! He’s a menace! He even shelters a wild goblin here!”
“You mean my loyal assistant, Druma?” Balthazar said, signaling with a pincer to the other side of the bridge.
The goblin came trotting across the wooden footpath.
“He built most of what you see around here,” the crab announced as his assistant stood to his side. “He’s very hardworking and in no way a threat to anyone. Except maybe thieves. Isn’t that right, Druma?”
“Yes, yes, boss,” Druma said, bowing his head while holding the wizard hat in place.
“I’ll be damned… first a talking crab, then a real golem, and now a tamed goblin,” the guard said. “This day just started, and I already got quite the story to tell back at the barracks.”
“How can you believe a word he says?!” Antoine asked, his mustache shaking with anger. “He’s a crab!”
The guard looked at the golden crab. “Sure he is, but he just handed me three thieves on a silver platter and solved our stolen property case. Besides, why shouldn’t I believe his story? It makes sense, and he just strikes me as the trustworthy type.”
“This isn’t over, crab,” Antoine threatened, turning to Balthazar. “I will have this stain on our map removed, you’ll see.”
“Sure. Anyway, I believe this is yours,” Balthazar said with a smile, dropping the medallion in his rival’s hand.
With a loud scoff that revealed more frustration than a sense of superiority, the town merchant started marching out towards the road.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going too,” the guardsman said. “These three are all nice and tied together already, so I’ll be taking them up to town and straight into their cells.”
“Glad to be of service,” the crab said, making a salute with his pincer.
“Hah. The other guardsman in town won’t believe it when I tell them this wild story. You’re going to be quite the tale.”
Balthazar accompanied the guard back to the road, the three bound thieves slowly scooting their way behind the man holding their rope.
As they headed up the road, a message appeared in front of the crab’s vision.
[Ardville Guards Reputation +1]
“Well, well. I’m sure that will prove useful at some point.”
