[Notice: Elaine, Khaos, undefined, and undefined have exited the Eternal Realm]
Ashlock barely had time to inform Stella of the news before his vision blurred, and he looked within his Inner World at the exit of the Eternal Realm. His anticipation could barely be contained. Just how strong had she become? How were her children? Did the birth go well? If he had to guess, it did, the two undefined people marked by the system message had to be those children.
Elaine was the first to appear out of the celestial fog, having to hunch over so she could be led by two adorable toddlers that couldn’t have been more than a few months old. They grasped Elaine’s finger and walked at her side. Occasionally, she would have to save one of them from tripping and faceplanting, but honestly, it was baffling to see such a clearly young toddler walking.
The one on Elaine’s left was a boy with jet-black hair and eyes, looking around curiously; meanwhile, his twin sister had light brown hair and eyes. Ashlock also noticed that she had freckles decorating her cheeks and, unlike her attentive brother, was busy testing if her own hand was tasty or not.
Khaos appeared a second later, looming over Elaine and the children, standing at a height of three meters. Yet neither toddler seemed disturbed by the void Ent’s presence—in fact, the boy glanced back and toothlessly grinned at her.
“Come on, you two,” Elaine said, taking in the sights of Ashlock’s Inner World, “this is going to be your new home.”
“Welcome back, Elaine,” Ashlock said directly into her mind, as he was too scared to call on Anubis to act as his mouthpiece and terrify the toddlers. “I see you have brought back two new members to the sect. Congratulations.”
Elaine beamed, “Thank you, Patriarch.” She then glanced around, “Has Douglas returned yet?”
“He has not.”
“Could you bring him back here? He said he was going to focus on getting stronger but wanted to be here when I returned.”
“Of course, give me a moment,” Ashlock said, and consulted with his system. “Pull Douglas out.”
[Understood]
There was a sudden flash of white flames as Stella appeared out of nowhere. She glanced around until she laid eyes on Elaine and the kids.
“Elaine, welcome back!” she said more excitedly than Ashlock had been expecting.
“Hello, Princess,” Elaine replied with amusement as Stella dashed over. “Is everything well with you and the sect?”
“Er, yeah. Not bad, all things considered,” Stella said as she crouched down and squinted at both of the toddlers. After getting a good look at them, she glanced up at Elaine. “So, how was it?”
“How was… what?” Elaine said, chuckling. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“You know,” Stella gestured to the toddlers, “creating these things.”
“Well, these adorable ‘things,’ as you call them, took around three months to develop before I gave birth, which is about average for a cultivator. All I did during pregnancy was cultivate, carefully micromanage the flow of Qi in my body, and try to nurture their development as much as possible.”
“Interesting. So creating minions takes around three months. Not too bad,” Stella rubbed her chin as she stared into the black-haired boy’s eyes. Surprisingly, the toddler just stared back at her without any fear. “Did it hurt?” Stella asked Elaine.
“Childbirth? No, not really. It was quick and more effortless than I had expected, no doubt due to my Star Core Realm cultivation.” She lovingly rubbed the tops of her children’s heads. “The harder task was getting them to calm down and try cultivating.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “You already got them to start cultivating?!”
“Of course!” Elaine laughed. “The Qi in there was so dense and high-quality that cultivating was a breeze, even for a newborn. Both of them have reached the mid-stages of the Soul Fire Realm already. Though I really have to thank Khaos.” Elaine glanced over her shoulder at the Ent. “Without her help in watching over them while I ascended, it would have been a nightmare.”
“Ascended?!” Stella yelled in disbelief.
Elaine smirked, clearly enjoying Stella’s utter surprise. “I’m now in the Nascent Soul Realm for my illusion affinity. While the kids were a bit of a handful, I was in there for months and only had to go up a few stages. Surprisingly, my void Qi came in quite helpful during the ascension process in cleanly pulling off a supernova and pulling myself back together.”
Stella stood up and looked at Elaine with a hint of awe. “I can’t believe it. You, at the Nascent Soul Realm? I never thought…”
“That I’d be strong one day?” Elaine snorted. “To be honest, me neither. However, don’t be too impressed. I’ve pushed my cultivation quite hard, so I’ll need to spend some time solidifying my foundation and learning new techniques. Though there is a surprise I want to show you.”
“Oh? What is it?” Stella asked.
“Just you wait and see,” Elaine said playfully as she stole glances at the Eternal Realm behind her.
[Notice: Douglas has exited the Eternal Realm]
“That was fast,” Ashlock mused, but then remembered that with time dilation in play, Douglas was likely given ample time to withdraw from the Eternal Realm while they had their conversation. “I wonder how Douglas is going to react to all of this. He is a tough guy, but he also crumbles when it comes to Elaine.”
Douglas confirmed Ashlock’s thoughts as he stumbled over himself while running out of the Eternal Realm, and only somewhat calmed down the moment his eyes landed on Elaine. Then, he froze when he noticed the two toddlers staring at him.
“Go on, say hello to your dad,” Elaine said, gently pushing the two toddlers forward.
Surprisingly, the girl took the lead. Taking her hand out of her mouth, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she put one foot forward and wobbled her way over to Douglas. The boy needed a few more gentle pushes of encouragement to finally leave his mother’s side.
“My children,” Douglas said, getting down on one knee to embrace them with tears welling up in his eyes. As he caressed their heads, he glanced up at Elaine with an indescribable smile. “I’m… a father now.”
Elaine nodded. “They’ve been excited to meet you.”
He lovingly looked down at the twins. “Have you named them yet?”
“As we agreed, I have already named the boy. His name is Talon,” Elaine replied. “It’s your choice what our adorable daughter’s name will be, as she inherited your affinity.”
Douglas looked down and met the toddler’s eyes, which sparkled as if she knew what was happening and was anticipating her name.
“Phew, this is a lot of pressure,” Douglas chuckled nervously. “Luckily, I had quite a while to think of a suitable one, and now looking into your eyes, I’m certain of the name.” He tapped her nose. “Your name will be Hazel. What do you think? Do ya like it?”
The girl dumbly nodded and buried her head in his chest.
“I’m so glad ya love it, my little munchkin,” Douglas said, hugging her tightly. Not forgetting about Talon, he focused on him next. “Your mother picked a manly name for you, son,” he said, patting his head with a grin. “You should carry it with pride.” Talon just mutely nodded in response to his father’s love.
Standing up, his attention was now entirely on Elaine. “Now, for something I should have done a long time ago.” His expression turned terribly serious as he fished out a small wooden box from his brown suit pocket.
“Erm, now isn’t the best time…” Elaine said, seeming conflicted for some reason—yet Douglas pressed on.
“Elaine, we’ve spoken about this for a while now, and you know there’s nobody else I’d want to spend eternity with.” He got down on one knee and gently opened the box, revealing a beautifully crafted ring encrusted with a perfectly sized diamond. “Elaine Voidmind, will you become my wife—”
Elaine faded into nothingness.
Ashlock felt his mind break at the scene. Douglas just stared forward, unblinking at the sight of Elaine vanishing. Talon and Hazel both began to cry, their howls filling the void left behind.
“Huh?!” Stella said, breaking the stunned stillness. “Where did she go?!”
Douglas was also understandably perplexed. Standing up with a distraught expression, he glanced around in panic. “Elaine? Was it too soon? Did you dislike the ring or the name I picked for Hazel? I’m sorr—”
Elaine suddenly appeared out of the void behind Douglas. She leapt onto his back and wrapped her arms around his wide frame like a koala embracing a tree.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Elaine said, “I just wanted to show off my new Nascent Soul Realm illusion technique, and the timing was a little awkward.”
Relief washed over Douglas’s tense expression. “So…”
“Do you really need to ask? Of course, my answer is yes, you big oaf!” She fished her arm around him and displayed her ring finger. He absentmindedly took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger as if his brain wasn’t catching up to the situation.
Elaine looked at her finger over Douglas’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “I love it, darling. Did you get this gem yourself?”
He nodded. “I fought a gemstone drake to the death for it.”
“How romantic,” she said, kissing his neck. “Thank you.”
“Sorry to ruin the mood,” Stella said, stepping before Elaine, “but can I ask how you did that illusion technique? I didn’t know that was an illusion at all, and I can’t wrap my head around how you did it?”
“Me neither,” Ashlock shamefully admitted. Despite the whole incident occurring inside his own Inner World, he hadn’t seen it coming.
“Well,” Elaine said, unlinking herself from Douglas, “we already knew void and illusion Qi are quite a good combo, and it gets even crazier once I have an infant soul that I can use to inhabit the illusions.”
“Your infant soul, of course,” Stella nodded as if that made sense. “When did you switch?”
“The moment I left the Eternal Realm. What you were speaking to was an illusion, while I was over there behind that rock,” she gestured a hundred meters away to a random rock jutting out from the mountainside. “By using void Qi, I’m able to mask my presence despite being so nearby.”
“Wait—darling, you gave birth and made it to the Nascent Soul Realm?!” Douglas said in disbelief and looked down, feigning sadness. “Now I’m not so proud of barely managing to reach the Nascent Soul Realm.”
Elaine pinched Douglas’s ear. “Are you trying to suggest that your wife outshining you is something unexpected?! Huh?”
“No… I,” Douglas began, trying to find the correct response.
“Don’t feel bad, Douglas, I outshine you too! As do many others. It’s nothing to be too down about,” Stella added, only making Douglas groan in annoyance. “Anyway, when is the wedding going to be?”
Douglas and Elaine exchanged a glance.
“That’s a good question,” Douglas mused, likely glad the conversation topic had changed.
“I want it to be after the war with the Celestial Empire is over and the Ashfallen Sect rules the land,” Elaine insisted, pulling the twins to her side. “Until then, I’ll be planning the wedding on the side. What do you think, husband?”
“After the war? Oh yeah, sure,” he nodded, seemingly happy with the idea of not having to immediately think about it.
“Then that’s settled,” Elaine chirped as she inspected her ring. “I really love this, Douglas. It’s so pretty.”
Douglas grinned and hugged her again.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone now. I’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on,” Stella said, yawning and turning to leave.
“Oh? What could possibly tire the Princess?” Elaine asked curiously. “I doubt many meetings could have occurred while I was gone…”
Stella flinched. “Nothing much, I was just watching over your class for a few weeks and um, giving them some guidance.”
Elaine’s face instantly paled. “Stella… what did you do to my elites?”
“Nothing much, honest. Just a few weeks in a forest and a training exercise. If any of them mention an execution, just know that was a joke. Anyway, I really must be off. Bye!” Stella vanished in a flash of white flames before Elaine could say another word.
“I swear if she hurt them…” Elaine narrowed her eyes.
“Jasmine is in the elite class, right? I’m sure you have nothing to worry about with her watching over her Master,” Douglas reminded her.
“I suppose you’re right,” Elaine relaxed somewhat. “Jasmine has a good head on her shoulders.”
“You two should leave with the kids,” Ashlock said into Elaine’s mind. “I’m about to receive a lot of Qi, and I don’t know what is going to happen here in my Inner World if I reach the boundary of the Monarch Realm.”
Opening a portal before them, the two nodded at each other.
“Okay, we will go then. But I just wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me use the Eternal Realm, Patriarch!” Elaine said before ushering a curious Talon and Hazel through the portal.
“You’re welcome.”
“Yeah, me too, Boss!”
“Douglas, report for work tomorrow. A lot has piled up in your absence.”
Douglas winced. “You got it, Boss…”
“Now go, enjoy your rest.”
The two promptly left, and Ashlock closed the portal behind them.
“Now, let’s see. Over the last month, by drawing deeply from the World Tree and spending most of my time sleeping under the nine moons, I was able to push my cultivation even further. Will the Qi from the last month in the Eternal Realm be enough to push me to the elusive peak of the 9th stage, so I can become a true Monarch?”
[Comprehension of void dao has increased]
[Comprehension of illusion dao has increased]
[Comprehension of earth dao has increased]
“Ah, here it is!” Ashlock felt a sudden rush of Qi flood into his soul. His entire Inner World shuddered with power, causing a storm of golden lightning to crackle across Ashlock’s Inner World until another system message eventually appeared.
[You have reached the threshold for the Monarch Realm]
Ashlock stared at the system message floating in his mind. Despite somewhat expecting it, he was still in disbelief. Him? At the Monarch Realm? Was this a dream?
However, he was merely at the threshold, and if his ascension to the Nascent Soul Realm was anything to go by, his system would want him to complete a list of tasks. As he expected, the dreaded system message appeared.
[Monarch Realm ascension requirements:
Possess an Inner World: 1/1
Comprehend Desolation Law: 63%
Devour the souls of nine Monarch Realm beings: 0/9]
The list was far shorter than he expected, and he already possessed the first of the three. However, comprehending the law of Desolation Qi was no easy feat, as he required intimate knowledge of dozens of different affinities. “Thankfully, the Eternal Realm can help me with that, but I also have to devour nine Monarch Realm souls? Doesn’t that basically set me on a warpath with the Celestial Empire, no matter what? I doubt there are nine other Monarch Realms on this layer of creation… unless I resort to eating my own sect members?”
On that morbid thought, the system message changed to one that lifted his mood.
[Rewards:
Ascend to Monarch Realm
Unlock a suitable Monarch Domain
Initiate the Era of Ascension]
Ashlock focused on that third reward—the Era of Ascension. The event that was orchestrated by the previous World Trees to link the layers of creation and rise toward the heavens.
Except this time, it would be a demonic tree doing the honors. But didn’t the World Tree have to be at the peak of the Monarch Realm to pull that off? How come he could initiate it so soon?
The answer was no doubt system fuckery. He had an Inner World as Nascent Soul Realm after all.
Ashlock dismissed the system messages and left his Inner World. While looking at the distant horizon, he mused to himself.
“All is going to plan. My roots are rapidly expanding along the leyline toward the Celestial Empire. It won’t be long until they make contact with the outermost territories of the Celestial Empire, and the citizens begin to grow aware of my encroaching presence. While their leaders find their precious golden sap rotten, chaos will ensue, as the Empire faces a threat it cannot understand.”
Ashlock chuckled.
“After all, nobody will expect the culprit toppling an Empire to be a tree.”
= End of Book 8 =
Merchant Crab #Chapter 27: Bone-a-Fide Merchant – Read Merchant Crab Chapter 27: Bone-a-Fide Merchant Online – All Page – Novel Bin
The crab sighed as he finished counting up the last of his golden coins.
“They’re all here,” Balthazar whispered. “All 5888 of them.”
Despite his riches, he still felt troubled. Throwing the last coin pouch next to his chest, the concerned merchant rubbed his chin with a pointy pincer. The money no longer fit inside the reinforced chest, so it began piling up in small pouches next to it.
“Between thieves in bushes, thieves in trios, and thieves with feathers, how is a crab supposed to sleep in peace knowing his life savings are just ripe for the taking?”
Grabbing a small oil lantern from the tent’s floor, Balthazar stepped outside, the cool and misty air of the night hitting him as he looked up at the moon.
He could not recall ever being unable to sleep before the day he found that strange scroll, and yet now, concerns not fit for a crab kept him up at night.
Glancing back at the spot under the coin chest, where the hole containing his belongings was hidden, he wondered if the mysterious piece of parchment was more of a curse than a blessing, given all the chaotic changes that turned his life upside down in less than a couple of months.
For a moment, the crab did some self-reflection.
And then he grabbed a piece of apple pie from a basket and pushed all that aside. Obviously, it had been a benefit, and there was no need to think further about it.
Circling to the back of the tent, Balthazar sat next to Bouldy, who was quietly observing the fireflies that danced lazily over the pond’s water. The giant rock turned his head to his friend, the same smile as ever.
“Hey, big guy,” Balthazar greeted in a low voice. “Enjoying the sights, eh?”
“Friend,” the golem said, his smile widening and his eyes closing.
“Yep, sure is nice, even at night. Wish I could do like you. Just skip on sleeping without a care in the world.”
“Friend?” Bouldy asked, smile dying down slightly as he tilted his head.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just worries and lots of questions going on in here.” Balthazar tapped the top of his golden shell with a claw. “Nothing you would get, sadly.”
“Friend…” his companion gently insisted, a concerned rocky frown forming above his orb eyes.
“It’s not like I’m a little crab anymore,” Balthazar said, as he stared down at the lantern’s flame. “Talking about my troubles with a rock feels pretty silly now.”
The living boulder slumped down and gently gave a comforting pat on the crab’s carapace, who looked up at him.
“Ah, I guess that came out a bit harsh. I’m… sorry. You’re not just a rock now. And the fact is, you were always there for me. Not that you really had a choice, on account of being an immobile boulder back then and all, but you know… it’s the thought that counts. Not sure you could think before either, but yeah… The point I’m trying to make is that you’re… you’re a good friend, Bouldy.”
“Friend,” the golem repeated, a broad smile returning to his face.
“Yes, yes, I get it. Just don’t let it get—“
Balthazar cut himself short at the sight of a dim light moving in the distance, across the pond and all the way out on the road past the exit to his trading post.
“What in the world?” the crab muttered as he stood up.
Gesturing for Bouldy to follow him, Balthazar picked up his lantern, placed what remained of his slice of pie on a low table in front of the tent, and glanced over to Druma, who was fast asleep on the hay. The goblin was the heaviest of sleepers, and there was no waking him up when he was in such a deep slumber. Figuring it would be best to leave him be for now, the crab headed across the bridge, eyes fixed on the light that swung around in the darkness.
“Stay close and try not to be too noisy, Bouldy.”
As Balthazar approached the exit to the road, tip-toeing golem in tow, he noticed a strange rattling coming from the light. Fearing the threat of more thieves, he cautiously raised his own light to illuminate the road.
The source of the faint light on the road was an iron lantern, filled with what seemed to be fireflies, barely bright enough to light the area directly around it.
The lantern was swinging from the tip of a tall wooden stick, held upright by a figure facing away from them, wrapped in a ragged cloak, a huge, bulky pack on its back, and frantically looking for something on the side of the road. Every movement produced an unnerving rattling noise.
“Who goes there?” said the crab, attempting to sound unafraid.
The cloaked figure turned suddenly, a bony face appearing under the light, two dark and empty eye sockets staring at Balthazar.
“AHHH!” Balthazar screamed as he stumbled back. “A walking skeleton!”
The skeleton recoiled and screamed in a fright as well, walking cane held in front of him. “A talking crab!”
“Don’t let him touch me!” the spooked merchant yelled at the golem.
Bouldy tilted his head, looking down at the two figures, unsure of what to do.
“Hey, woah, hang on!” the skeleton pleaded, looking up at the towering figure behind the crab. “I’m the one who doesn’t want either of you touching me! Shoo, go away, crabby!”
“What?” Balthazar said. “Wait, you’re… sentient?”
“Bah, ‘course I am!” the other responded. “But you’re a crab. What in blazes is a crab doing talking? And leading a golem around in the middle of nowhere at night?!”
“What do you mean? You’re right in front of my territory. My trading post is right there!” the exasperated crab said, pointing his lantern at the path leading down to the pond.
“Ah, fiddlesticks!” said the skeleton. “I got lost again, didn’t I? Wait, did you say trading post? There’s a trader around these parts?”
“Of course there is. It’s me!”
“I’m a trader too!” He pointed a bony fingertip at his own smiling skull.
“A merchant skeleton?” an incredulous Balthazar asked. “You can’t be serious?”
“That’s rich, coming from a talking crab who also fancies himself a merchant!”
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Balthazar opened his mouth to rebut, but hesitated for a moment. “Right, you got a point there. Fair enough. But I thought skeletons were all supposed to be these spooky and mindless shambling undead trying to kill anything living.”
“Bah, nonsense!” the talking skull said, with a wave of his hand. “That’s adventurer prejudice. Granted, it probably comes from the fact that most of us do try to kill them on sight, but hey, that’s just business. Speaking of which, if you got a trading post back there, think we could step inside and talk business? I don’t wanna risk being seen out here by some wannabe hero.”
Balthazar pondered for a moment. He was not one to turn down business opportunities, but a skeleton in the middle of the night sounded dodgy, even for him. Then again, the wanderer seemed amicable enough.
He glanced at the figure in front of him through his monocle.
[Level 5 Merchant Skeleton]
Confident that if it came to it, Bouldy would be more than capable of smashing a few low level bones, Balthazar answered. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get out of the road.”
The three of them walked towards the pond, lanterns held forward to light the path.
“So what’s your name, merchant crab?”
“I’m Balthazar. And what’s yours?”
“I’m Tom.”
“Tom? Not exactly what I would expect from a skeleton, but alright.”
“What did you expect? ‘Bones McGee’ or something?”
Arriving at the center of the trading post, Balthazar took some tinder and lit it on fire with the flame from his oil lantern before throwing it into the stone pit, starting a small fire that illuminated the surrounding area.
Taking a better look at the other merchant, Balthazar noticed he wore tattered pants with no shoes, an open jacket full of moth holes that exposed his rib cage, and a wide brimmed black hat. On his back, he carried an oversized pack made of what appeared to be leather, full of patches of different colors and materials. Despite how full and heavy it looked, the skeleton carried it with great ease.
“What are you staring at?” Tom said. “Don’t let my appearance fool you. I got coin. This is just the work attire.”
“Work attire?” the intrigued crab asked.
“I get it. You don’t go out much. I’ll explain,” the skeleton began. “I come from a small dungeon west from here. It’s the Tudor’s Hall Dungeon. You ever heard of it?”
Balthazar shook his head. “Interesting name. Who’s Tudor, and why does he have a hall?”
“No idea! Anyway, we’re a modest dungeon, you know, meant for novice adventurers to get their feet wet, get a grasp of combat, get some experience, loot some goodies, all that stuff.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” the crab said. “What do you mean, ‘meant’ for those things? I thought monsters in dungeons attacked invaders because they didn’t want them stepping inside and pillaging the place?”
“Oh, sure, that’s the show we put on for the visiting adventurers, but you know how it is. That’s all part of the business scheme. And really, business is great. You have no idea how many of them manage to fumble even a simple mace swing at a stationary skeleton. Or how many step into a spike trap despite all the obvious lit torches and gaping holes we put in front of them. Most are just hopelessly dense, I tell ya!”
Balthazar chuckled, both curious and amused at the skeleton’s words. “I bet! You should see some of the ones I get over here sometimes. But how does any of that work as a business?”
“Well, ya see, most of those green adventurers go into the dungeon with all their possessions on them, probably because they still haven’t learned to stash things yet. So, when they trip over their own feet and dive into a wall spear, guess who gets to keep all their stuff? That’s right, we do! And then we just have to keep recycling their money and loot as bait for the next ones who come in the next day, looking for riches.”
“Hmm, interesting,” Balthazar said, slowly nodding. “But if you’re a dungeon for novices, surely there’s still plenty who make it out with their loot often, right? And what happens when they’re not incompetent and actually defeat you?”
Tom let out a hearty laugh.
“We’re skeletons! What are they going to do? Kill us? We’re already dead! And you’re right, some of them do make it all the way and take their loot, but that’s why old Tom here goes out at night to collect loot from adventurers who perish out in the wilds. Can’t let all that loot go to waste now, can we?”
“Right, right…” Balthazar agreed.
“Just earlier I took some coins from this kid out on the plains. I don’t know what the hell happened there, but he looked like he had crash landed there straight from the heavens, a crater and everything. But hey, nobody was around, so his loss is my gain!”
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“Alright, I think I get it,” the merchant crab said. “What I didn’t get yet is, what business do you want with me?”
“Ah, see, it’s not common to find a fellow non-human merchant out here,” the merchant skeleton started. “And with all the new adventurers popping up lately, it’s getting tougher to keep up with the supply demand. Looking around, I see you got yourself a nice surplus of junk. I was thinking, maybe we could help each other out. Most of the kids who never make it through our dungeon are usually only carrying their starter gold, which is no fortune, but is still a pretty sum, so we always got plenty of it to go around, it’s actual items that are becoming a bit of a problem, and we always need more random junk for them to loot. Chances are lots of it ends up right here, traded to you. What do you say I start buying some of your trash to fill our dungeon back up?”
Balthazar rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Despite the strangeness of the one offering it, the deal sounded exactly like the thing the crab was looking for, especially if it meant getting rid of all the excess garbage he had pilling up everywhere.
“You know what, Tom? I think we could have a mutually productive deal here,” the shiny crab declared with a smile.
“Great!” the skeleton said. “I don’t really got any room left for loose items in my pack anymore tonight, but I’ll be back to these parts next week, and now I know to come here right away, instead of wasting hours looking for scraps on the road.”
“Sure, I guess I’ll just have to stay up until a bit later next week,” Balthazar said. “But if you bring enough coin, we’ll get that dungeon of yours refilled in no time!”
“That’s the objective. I tell ya, crab, you wouldn’t believe some of the things those nutcases take. They’ll take the torches off the walls, the clothes off your back, even crappy helmets like that one over there.” He pointed towards a horned iron helmet on a nearby shelf. “Hell, just a few weeks back a group of them went into a room, looted all the items and then, not satisfied yet, actually hauled the whole damn chest the loot was in with them! And it wasn’t a small chest either, it was a big one, reinforced. Who does that?!”
“Oh, heh, right,” Balthazar said, awkwardly glancing at the tent behind him, on the other side of the bridge.
“Why are you making that face?” Tom inquired. “Wait… don’t tell me this is where they sold it?”
“Hey, look, I don’t ask where the merchandise comes from. If you got a problem, take it up to them. I paid for that chest fair and square!”
“Don’t get me wrong, mate,” the other merchant said, both bony palms facing out in front of his chest, “I don’t blame ya for buying it, but chests like that are actually pretty valuable to us. You know how hard it would be to get a carpenter to make us new ones? I’d be willing to buy it back from you, for a fair price.”
“Well, Tom, as much as I can respect a good business offer, I kind of need that chest for my… treasury. As a matter of fact, I actually need another one already. I’m guessing you’re not in the market to sell one, though, are you?”
“My crab, is that what you need the chest for, storing your money?” the skeleton asked with a smile that was missing a few teeth. “How did you get this far as a merchant without a money bag?”
“I got plenty of coin pouches already,” Balthazar said, picking up a small empty bag from a crate and shaking it in his pincer.
“Nah, I mean a real money bag.” Tom reached back into one of the pockets of his pack. “Like this.”
Balthazar looked at what seemed to be just another regular coin bag, except darker.
[Bag of Holding Money]
[Can hold up to 100,000 gold coins]
“A hundred thousand?!” the incredulous crab exclaimed. “In that small bag? How?!”
“Don’t ask me.” Tom said with a shrug. “Maybe magic, or whatever. I’m a merchant skeleton, not a wizard skeleton. What I know is that with this you could easily carry all your money everywhere with you, without bothersome heavy chests. I’ll trade ya this for that old chest. You know that’s a more than favorable deal for you, but I like ya, and we just really need that chest back home.”
Knowing the skeleton’s words to be true, the crab nodded in agreement.
“You got yourself a deal. You’ll just have to wait while I unload all the money from it, and then the chest is all yours. Although I’m not sure how you plan on taking it with you.”
“Ah, don’t worry, these old bones are much stronger than they look.”
Balthazar spent the next half hour shoveling coins with his pincers into the Bag of Holding Money. No matter how many more he poured into it, the bag continued to not weigh more than if it had just a couple dozen in it. Yet, all he had to do was reach inside with a pincer, and he could feel them all stuffed inside.
Having Bouldy carry the empty chest back to Tom, Balthazar watched as the skeleton dragged the heavy chest behind him with one hand, heading back out to the road, his firefly lantern quickly fading into the night after a mutual agreement to meet again in a week’s time.
“What an odd fellow. But I like him,” Balthazar said, while tossing his new coin bag up and down with his silver pincer, before a realization hit him.
“Ah, crap. This shell doesn’t come with any pockets!”
“Boss, boss!” Druma shouted. “Food!”
Putting his book down and standing up from his purple cushion, Balthazar hurriedly stepped out of his tent, eager to greet his favorite—and only—baker.
But as he crossed the bridge, he realized Madeleine was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the only one who stood by the entrance of the trading post was Rye, the archer boy, handing a basket to the goblin, who happily scampered away with it.
“Good morning, Balthazar!” the young adventurer greeted.
“Hello…” the crab reluctantly responded. “Where’s Madeleine?”
“She sends her apologies, but she couldn’t make it down here today,” said Rye, with a slightly bothered expression.
“Why not? Something happened to her?” Balthazar hurriedly asked. “I better not find out this has something to do with you, boy!”
“Hey now, wow! Easy! I did nothing!” the other quickly pleaded. “I’m actually kind of worried about it myself. She has been taking on a lot of extra orders lately, that’s why she couldn’t afford to come here today. She’s busy baking.”
“Sounds like business is good. Why is that a reason for concern?”
“Because she’s clearly overworking herself. Apparently, the rent she pays for her stall space at the market has gone up, and she’s having trouble keeping up with the price, so now she’s doing more work to compensate.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Balthazar exclaimed. “Why hasn’t she said anything sooner? She barely even lets me pay for all the food she bakes for us! And what about you? You fancy the girl, but you won’t even offer to help her? What’s wrong with you?”
“You think I didn’t try?!” the archer said, opening both arms in frustration. “But you know that baker. She’s as sweet as she is also stubborn for some things. She said her mother didn’t raise her to depend on no knight in shining armor to sustain her.”
“What’s the problem, then?” Balthazar asked, genuinely confused. “You’re an archer, not a knight. And I’ve never even seen you wearing any metal armor!”
“That’s… that’s not really the point,” Rye awkwardly said, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. “The point is, she won’t just let someone solve her problems for her. And I will not try to give that one any orders. In fact, she’s the one who’s ordering me around. Here’s your delivery, sir.”
The boy picked up another wicker basket from the ground and presented it to the crab. “I believe she said today’s specials were strawberry jam scones and custard pie.”
“Smells great,” the crab said, trying to contain his salivation. “But say, do you have a few moments to talk?”
“Sure. I’m not doing anything urgent. What’s up?”
The two moved next to a low table, where Rye placed the basket before sitting on a wooden bench.
“I can tell you’ve been, uh… improving,” said Balthazar, examining the archer through his monocle and seeing he was now level 12. “You’ve been growing stronger during your adventures.”
“Thank you,” the young adventurer said with a proud smile. “I’ve been spending a lot more time in town lately, but I still try to keep up and get out there when I can.”
“Sure, sure,” Balthazar responded, while nodding in agreement. “It’s important to keep reaching new levels
of experience, am I right?”
The crab stood still for a moment, staring at the young man, who awkwardly stared back with a confused frown.
“You, uh… you alright there, Balthazar?”
“Yes, sure. No, never mind that. I was just… thinking.”
“Alright, if you say so.”
“Say, Rye, I was wondering the other day,” Balthazar started, trying to sound nonchalant, “where exactly are you from?”
“Oh, that’s curious,” Rye said, raising both eyebrows. “Nobody usually asks me that.”
“Really? And that’s not odd to you? As far as I understand, you humans are all pretty nosy about each other’s lives.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Not really? I just figured that’s the custom in these parts.”
“So you’re not from around here?” the crab insisted, growing more curious.
“Uh, no, not exactly,” the increasingly uncomfortable adventurer responded. “I’m from very far away, a whole different place from this.”
“Like what? A different world?” Balthazar inquired, determined to get a reaction out of the young man.
“How did you know that?” Rye apprehensively asked.
“I’m a very resourceful merchant. I got my… sources. Don’t worry, I’m just trying to learn more about my baker’s suitor.”
“Well, alright,” the other conceded, relaxing slightly. “Yes, I was from another world, very different from this one. Then one day woke up here, found out there were many others like me, ‘adventurers’ too, and have been just going along with it, trying to make it out here.”
“And you all got some strange text in your eyes that tells you about levels and stats, don’t you?”
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“Y-yes… how do you know about that? I was under the impression no one from this world would know or understand any of that. That it was something for just us adventurers.”
“Ah, you know how it is. You spend all day dealing with your kind, and you end up picking up a thing or two. Any idea why you all get those special things? What’s the purpose?”
“Not really.” Rye shrugged. “We’re basically given the choice to come here, start over, given the task of improving and gaining levels, but beyond that, we’re kind of left in the dark. Many think there’s some kind of reward, riches, power, maybe even divinity at the end of it all. But I don’t really know about any of that.”
“Who gave you that choice anyway?” the very intrigued crab asked. “How did you end up in this world in the first place?”
“I’m not really sure,” a hesitant Rye said. “I don’t think anyone really knows who that voice was, just that the alternative wasn’t good. I… I don’t remember well what happened before. It’s all a bit hazy, and feels like a lifetime ago. I was in my world. Then something happened. Something not good. And then… here I was, on a beach, with a scroll.”
The adventurer rubbed his temple with his fingers, like someone straining to think. “Sorry, it’s always really hard trying to remember anything from before, for some reason.”
“I got more questions. You said something about a—“
“I’m sorry, Balthazar, what were we talking about exactly?” Rye said, straining his eyes with discomfort. “Either way, I really need to get going now. I’ve always heard it was better for everyone if we don’t talk about any of this stuff with the locals, so maybe let’s leave it at that. I’ll catch you later.”
“I just—” Balthazar started, but the archer was already up and halfway to the exit.
The golden crab stood alone on his trading post, thoughts ricocheting around in his shell.
Someone was definitely behind the arrival of all those adventurers into that world, and they didn’t seem too keen on anyone knowing how or why. Prodding Rye for information did not seem to have gone well, who could say what would happen with other, less receptive adventurers? Everyone else who was originally from that world, like himself or Madeleine, would know even less, apparently by design, so there wasn’t much point in risking that subject, especially given the warning from the enchantress about the consequences of asking too many inconvenient questions.
But what did any of this have to do with a humble crab who just wanted to live a quiet life at his pond?
Balthazar did not know the answers to any of that, but at least he found comfort in knowing he had scones.
***
Holding a slice of custard pie in his silver pincer, Balthazar rejoiced at its flavor from behind a large crate. The day had been busy with adventurers going back and forth, not giving him a break to enjoy a snack.
“Oh, sweet Madeleine, you did it again,” he said, eyes closed into a dreamlike state. “Simply delicious.”
“Anybody home?” a young voice said.
Balthazar rolled his eyes open, and his smile turned into a frown. Just one moment of solitude was apparently too much to ask.
“Yes, here I am,” the crab said after quickly swallowing and tossing the rest of his slice into the hidden basket behind the crate. He was willing to sell almost anything standing on that platform, except for the contents of that basket.
“Hey there, Balthazar!” a young adventurer greeted, with a smile and a wave.
“Oh, hey there…” The merchant hesitated. He was sure he knew the boy standing in front of him wearing average armor, with a generic face, common brown eyes, and a typical haircut. He just couldn’t recall where from. Being a level 6 wasn’t exactly a distinctive detail either.
“It’s Cletus,” the client said, readjusting the huge sack he was carrying over his shoulder. “Remember me? I’ve been here to trade with you probably a dozen times by now.”
“Oh, right, right, of course! Come in, come in,” Balthazar hurriedly said, both of them stepping closer to each other. “Of course I remember you. You’re the one who sold me that nice ingot of silver that one time.”
The crab still had no recollection of ever asking for his name, despite being confident the kid had probably told it to him before. Unfortunately, Balthazar tended to not get too attached to his clients, on account of them having the bad habit of dying all the time.
“Yes, I did,” Cletus responded with a proud smile, letting the heavy sack drop from his shoulder and onto the ground. “I still remember the day I got that. One of my first bandit ambushes. There were four of them.”
“Alright, kid, no need to reminisce, we remember,” Balthazar said, despite not remembering the story in the slightest. “Let’s talk about today instead, shall we?”
“Oh, sure,” the other said, perking up. “I came across a whole bandit hideout. The place was crawling with them!”
“Eh, you sure bump into a lot of bandits in your travels, don’t you? Are you sure that’s not intentional?”
“I had to take out the lookouts on the watchtowers with my bow first,” the boy continued, apparently not hearing a word of what the crab said. “Then I made it inside the outer walls and dispatched another four, at least. But once I made it inside the building, damn, I went through at least a dozen more. It was rough! I had to slowly sneak my way through, taking them all down one by one. By the end, I took out at least sixteen!”
“Very impressive, son,” Balthazar said, making little effort to hide his boredom. “I’m sure so many bandits mean a whole lot of loot. You got anything good for me?”
“Oh yes,” Cletus responded with growing excitement. “There was so much gear I couldn’t really carry it all, so most of it I had to leave on them.”
The adventurer untied the large sack and let it unfold, revealing its contents. A pile of assorted shoes, boots, sandals, and other footwear crumbled in front of them. “I’m open to selling them all to you. I don’t have time to go up to Ardville.”
Balthazar stared at the pile of shoes in front of him, slack-jawed, slowly counting them.
“Kid… there are sixteen pairs of shoes here. Did you only loot their shoes? Nothing else?!”
“Err… yes?” Cletus answered sheepishly.
“Just… why?” the incredulous crab asked. “I’m sure there was lots of other loot around the place, and even on the bandits themselves. Hell, there would have probably been lighter parts of their gear you could have taken that would be worth more than their damn boots!”
“Uh… Yes, I guess you’re right,” the young man said, glancing to the side while grasping his elbow. “But, I don’t know, I guess I just… took their shoes instead.”
Balthazar’s face scrunched up.
“You didn’t take a single necklace, or even ring, but somehow you found the time to strip each and every one of those bandits of their shoes? You do realize that’s very weird, right?”
“I… can I just please get some money for those and go?”
The crab stared at the boy for a moment, unsure if he wanted to think any further on the subject.
“64 gold for the lot,” Balthazar finally said, deciding it was probably for the best to not delve any deeper into it. “I will not haggle, just take it, kid.”
“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll take that, please. Thank you,” Cletus quickly said, still avoiding eye contact.
The merchant grabbed his new money bag that was tightly tied to the side of his shell and retrieved the money to pay the embarrassed boy.
With two quick and clumsy bows of his head, the adventurer rapidly made his way back out, avoiding the crab’s gaze the entire time.
“Not sure if I even want to know what kind of strange world are all these weirdos coming from,” he said, shaking his shell as he walked back and forth, throwing the shoes into a sorting crate one by one.
As Balthazar picked up a shoe and a sandal, a quiet cough came from the road entrance.
A short man in a long green gown stepped into the trading post, two guards in tow.
“Yes? Looking for something?” the merchant asked.
“Yes, I am looking for Mr. Balthazar,” the man said in a slow and monotone voice. “Please let him know the local tax inspector would like to speak to him.”
Balthazar’s eyes went wide, as his right claw snapped the sandal in two, and the other shoe dropped.
Balthazar had spent a great deal of time reading books. Some were about geography, some about history, and some were even bestiaries. But out of all his readings, all the many creatures of myth, horrifying legends and stories, one creature always stood out to him as the most terrifying: the taxman.
Half man, half tax collector, the despicable being now stood mere steps away from the crab, and he felt his blood run cold. Which was fairly normal, considering crustaceans are cold-blooded.
He wore a long green gown that reached down to his ankles, a hat with square edges, and a thin chain around his neck from which a thick badge of solid gold hung. His face was old and his cheeks saggy, like two droopy bags jiggling at every turn of his head. A pair of tiny round glasses sat precariously on the tip of his nose, far lower than his eye level, leading to him constantly having to tilt his head up to look through the lenses.
The two Ardville guards stood straight behind him, their spears firmly held vertically against the sides of their yellow dyed leather armor, as the much shorter man leisurely perused the titles of the books on a nearby shelf, hands behind his back.
Balthazar slowly peered through his monocle at the abominable creature.
[Level 15 Tax Inspector]
“Well?” the tax inspector said, glancing at Balthazar. “I’d like to speak with the merchant responsible for this establishment. Go fetch him, will you?”
“I… I’m him. The merchant is me. I’m Balthazar,” the crab said, hesitation taking hold of him, faced with his greatest of foes.
“You’re Balthazar?” The short man asked, taking a few steps closer and giving the merchant a better look through his glasses. “Goodness! You’re a giant crab! That is certainly… irregular. But ultimately meaningless, I suppose. Laws are laws. For everyone.”
“Uh… you came looking for me but you didn’t know I was a crab, Mr…”
“Abernathy,” the other answered. “And no, I’m afraid the report made on your activities did not include that fact.”
Balthazar perked one eye stalk up in curiosity. “A report? On me?”
“Yes. It would seem another citizen, Mr. Antoine, has filed a report on your unlicensed mercantile activities here, concerned you were dodging our fair tax on any business.”
“Of course it had to be him,” the crab muttered with spite, before returning to a normal voice. “I’m surprised the accuser didn’t come along after reporting me.”
“Oh, do not misunderstand my words. The report was not filed today.” Abernathy pulled a small notebook out of his waist pouch and began paging through it. “In fact, it was made a little over a month ago. But, as is the nature of this hard work, sometimes bureaucracy means there is a waiting list.”
The man lazily waved a hand up, making Balthazar doubt hard work was something he was ever familiar with.
“Regardless,” the man said, lifting his face from the book, his eyes slowly accompanying the movement a second later, “we are here to talk about you, Mr. Balthazar. It has come to my attention that you have been running a business operation out of this roadside pond. Buying, selling, and trading goods to adventurers. All of this without a permit, a license, proper regulation, and most importantly, without paying your due taxes. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Balthazar considered whether it would be too late to feign ignorance and revert to speaking crab only. He quickly concluded that would not help him much.
“I, uh… wasn’t aware there were taxes on what I’m doing here,” the crab said, his mind racing for a way out of his predicament.
“Please, Mr. Balthazar, that excuse won’t work, not even for a crab. You seem to have no trouble grasping the concepts of trade and marketing.”
“Well, what is supposed to happen here?” the apprehensive merchant asked, eyeing the two guards behind the inspector.
“Before we can proceed any further, an inspection of your establishment must be conducted. To evaluate the dimension of your business, your profits, as well as anything that might be out of order.”
Balthazar did not like the idea of some inspector going through his place and his things. Not one bit.
A thought occurred to him. It was a long shot, given what he had learned about his Charisma and the inspector being five levels higher than him, with who knew what level of Intelligence, but he had to at least try it.
Puffing up his chest, his golden carapace shining brightly under the sunlight, Balthazar spoke to the tax inspector in his best attempt at sounding confident.
“Come now, Mr. Abernathy, look around. You can tell this is an honest business I run, nothing out of order here. Also, what I provide to all our dear adventurers every day should count as a public service, and should be exempt from taxes. Just ask any member of the Adventurers Guild. They’ll tell you about my excellent reputation with them. To say nothing of my pristine record with the very guardsmen that stand behind you.” The two guards exchanged brief glances at each other while keeping their formation. “They will tell you how I even helped them catch some thieves recently.”
The inspector gazed down at the golden crab from behind his glasses for a moment, seemingly unfazed.
“Very impressive, Mr. Balthazar, but… no, I don’t believe any of that relinquishes you from the requirement of this inspection.”
The deflated merchant slumped down. It would appear his opponent was much too powerful for his crabby charm.
“Now, let us not waste any more precious time, shall we?” Abernathy said. “I have many other important appointments to get to today.”
“I guess,” Balthazar begrudgingly agreed.
There was little sense in arguing at that point, and he saw no outcome of the situation that wouldn’t be negative if he resisted.
The inspector looked at a nearby wood table with multiple trinkets spread over it, waiting to be sorted. With one wrinkly finger outstretched, he slid it across the wooden surface before bringing it up in front of his precariously placed glasses to check for dust.
The nerve of the villainous fiend, to be checking the crab’s immaculate establishment like it was some unkempt low category shop.
Balthazar stepped around the pile of old worn-out shoes that was still strewn about on the floor and followed Abernathy as he looked around.
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“If you see anything you like,” the anxious crab said, “I’m sure we could arrange a good price for it.”
“No,” the wrinkly man said, squinting his eyes at some small pieces of jewelry on a display, “I’m afraid that would go against the code of conduct for an inspector doing his job.”
He was a stingy one, it would seem.
“Tell me, Mr. Balthazar,” Abernathy started, continuing his browsing, “what is your average daily profit here?”
Balthazar gulped silently.
“Oh, heh, you see, uh… that’s hard to say. I don’t really keep an exact count. You know, very hard to count money with pincers for hands.”
“So you don’t keep a ledger,” the taxman said, giving him a brief glance from the corner of his saggy eyes. “Very irregular indeed. Certainly does not bode well for you.”
As the small man moved around the platform with the crab accompanying at a close distance, a giant boulder with eyes slowly approached from the side of the pond’s shore.
With a smile, the golem waved one of his huge stone hands at the two of them. The two guards who were standing by the entrance quickly rushed in, spears pointed forward, ready for a fight, despite their clearly uncertain expressions and glances at each other.
“Hey, hey, hey! Easy!” Balthazar hurriedly said, both pincers up in the air. “He’s my guard! He’s harmless to you. Not a threat!”
“Friend?” Bouldy said, with a slight frown, as he stared down at the crab standing in front of the two pointy spears.
Balthazar looked at Abernathy, who was staring straight up over his lenses at the massive towering being standing a few steps away from him outside the wooden platform. Even if barely noticeable, his expression had the first sign of surprise he had given since arriving.
Without breaking eye contact, the inspector signaled back with his hand for the guards to put away their spears. They tucked their weapons upright between their arms and chests again and returned to their previous positions.
“So, a golem too,” Abernathy said, slowly lowering his gaze from the creature. “Do you have a permit for that?”
Balthazar frantically signaled with his claws for Bouldy to go back to his usual spot. He knew that as tempting as it was, starting a fight with a town inspector and two guards would do nothing but bring a world of problems to his doorstep. Despite him not even having a door at his pond to begin with.
“A… permit? For him?” said the incredulous crab. “You people require permits to have golems?”
“Yes, of course. They are powerful and potentially dangerous creatures. If someone owns one, it needs to be vetted by the town’s authorities to ensure they will not be a threat to the citizens. Were you not informed of the protocol by the one who provided it to you?”
“Well,” Balthazar quietly said as he scratched the side of his face with a pincer, “he was a slightly deranged old wizard who vanished into thin air after we made the trade, so… no, he didn’t exactly mention any of that.”
Abernathy slowly shook his head as he pursed his lips. Reaching for his waist pouch once again, he retrieved his notebook and a quill. With raised eyebrows and looking down at the pages through his distant lenses, he took several lengthy notes.
The crab kept nervously tapping on the wooden floorboards, his anxiety growing.
“Look, Mr. Abernathy,” he finally said once the other finished his notes, “for the purpose of full disclosure, I think you should know that the one who filed the report that sent you here, Antoine, has a grudge against me. He is also the owner of his own general store in town, and sees me as competition to his business, so he has been trying to put me out of mine for a while now.”
“I know Mr. Antoine,” the man said, back to leisurely strolling around the trading post. “I remember well how he got to where he is today. And the rumors about his… methods. He has quite the reputation for being very conniving. I’m well aware of that.”
“You are?” Balthazar said, growing hopeful.
“I certainly am.” Abernathy stopped and faced the crab. “However, rumors are just that, rumors. There has never been proof of any misdoings on his part, not even from his former associates. So, unless you have some kind of concrete evidence to present, Mr. Antoine’s report is still perfectly valid and worthy of being looked into.”
Balthazar exhaled quietly as the inspector gazed at the contents of a crate.
There had to be something, a weakness to his foe, anything that would help him, but the crab could not figure out what.
“You clearly have a lot of supply,” the man said. “From my experience, I can safely say you must be doing fairly well for yourself, Mr. Balthazar.”
“Me?” the gilded crab said, pointing a silver pincer at himself. “Not really. Business is alright, but I’m not rich or anything. Just… getting by.”
“Please, Mr. Balthazar. I have been doing this job for a long time. And I certainly know a Bag of Holding Money when I see one.” Abernathy gave a nod towards the bag tied to the side of the crab’s shell. “Just as I can tell when they’re not too empty.”
Foiled again, Balthazar chose not to respond. Despite all his speech, all his charisma, all his intelligence, the old taxman had him beat at every corner.
“I believe I’ve seen enough,” the inspector announced, coming to a stop in front of the crab. “This is a most unusual case, and only made more difficult by the fact you do not keep a proper ledger of business. Given the circumstances, I believe we will have to settle for an estimation of the taxes you owe.”
Balthazar felt his throat go dry before opening his mouth to speak. “And… and how much would we be talking about here?”
“Considering the estimation of trades, the time you’ve been here, the unlicensed golem, late fees, and so on… I believe a sum of 3000 gold is owed to our town’s coffers.”
“A sum of what now?!” Balthazar exclaimed. “That’s almost half… I mean, that’s a lot of money. You can’t possibly expect me to pay that!”
The crab felt lightheaded. All his precious gold coins, all the time and effort to gather them all. And now they were coming for them. Not lowly thieves, or even birds. No, it was the man. The taxman, to be more precise. It’s always the ones you should expect the most.
Regretting his choice of not keeping all his money tucked away off-shore—in his islet’s hole—Balthazar tried thinking what his next move should be, but he felt difficulty thinking. All the turmoil of that situation was likely dropping his blood sugar levels.
Taking a stumbling step to the side, the crab reached for a basket and flipped it open while the tax inspector observed him, hands behind his back.
“Mr. Balthazar, I’d recommend against any attempts to stall the process of…” Abernathy’s words trailed off as he took a long sniff, nearly making his glasses fall off the tip of his nose. “Is that custard pie I smell?”
“W-what?” Balthazar said, his mouth stuffed with a generous chunk of pie.
“My, that certainly is a divine smell,” the old man said, some of his former composure shedding away. “You’ll have to excuse me. It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt that smell. I’ve sworn off sweets by my wife’s demand. Health reasons, she says.”
Realization slowly crept up the crab’s shell, and he glanced at the half custard pie resting in the basket. As much as it pained him, desperate times called for desperate measures.
“It’s as delicious as it smells, I can tell you,” Balthazar said, as he swallowed and put on his best smile. “You… would like a slice?”
The words cut him on the inside as he said them, but he endured.
“Oh, no, no, I shouldn’t,” Abernathy replied, with a clear lack of conviction. “My wife would be furious with me.”
“Oh, now, Mr. Abernathy, your wife is all the way up in town. We’re here. It’s just us. Nobody would tell a soul. Right, boys?” Balthazar leaned to the side, looking at the two guards who, once again, awkwardly glanced at each other without a word. “Is a life without pie even enjoyable? Go on.”
The crab grabbed a plate and offered a slice to the inspector, who looked at it with gluttony in his eyes.
“Oh, alright, fine, just a slice can’t hurt!”
With an eagerness and joy that resembled the crab, the small man tore into the slice.
After a few minutes of pure delight, the man handed the plate back to Balthazar. The glasses had come off, and his eyes looked almost on the verge of tears with joy.
“That was delightful. Simply wonderful! I have to thank you for it, truly.”
“Great! Glad you enjoyed it,” Balthazar said, trying to sound cheerful about the pie he had just given away. “Say, given your agreeable mood, there wouldn’t be any chance we could discuss the previous matter a little better?”
“Now, now, Mr. Balthazar,” Abernathy said, wiping his eyes and putting his glasses back on. “That might have been a delicious experience, but I still haven’t lost my senses. I take my work very seriously.”
The crab felt his shell deflating once again.
“However,” the man continued, “I think, given the special circumstances, that we could arrange for at least some… leeway. I will give you one week to set your affairs in order, and then I shall return here to discuss matters further.”
Balthazar looked suspiciously at the inspector before slowly nodding. “Right, I see. That’s very… kind of you. I’ll make sure I will be better prepared next time. And that we can more properly discuss the situation, perhaps over some more pie.”
“See that you do,” Abernathy said, turning to the guards. “Now I must get going. I feel incredibly sluggish after that, and cannot wait to get back to my office and… rest my eyes.”
Watching the three figures leave, Balthazar sighed. That was a close battle, and it was not over yet. But at least now he knew what must be done. It was time to retaliate and deploy his secret weapon: pastries.