Merchant Crab

“One hundred and thirty-six… one hundred and thirty-seven… one hundred and thirty… damn it!”

The crab threw the coin back on the table with frustration.

“This was a lot easier to count when I could see totals right in front of my eye.”

Balthazar was having a hard time adapting back to a more natural state. After months of being a civilized crab, returning to a more primitive state was presenting challenges. Doing basic mathematics like any regular crab was one of them.

“Maybe I could just go get the monocle for a moment,” he said to himself. “Use it just for a quick peek, then put it right back. I’m sure it would be fine.”

He looked longingly at the other side of the pond, at his tent where the hiding hole containing the monocle was.

“No, stop it! Keep it together, Balthazar!” the crab reprimanded. “You’re a big crab who don’t need no system. You can do this like the crabs of old used to.”

He wondered for a moment whether there had ever been any other merchant crabs before him. Maybe he was the latest in a long and proud lineage of commercial crustaceans, and they had just been forgotten by the history books because none of them could write with their pincers. And obviously, humans can’t be trusted to keep records of proper crab legends.

And then he wondered if he was the first crab with a system, if there had been others before him, and what might have happened to them.

Shuddering at the thought of one day disappearing, leaving his precious pond abandoned, for someone else to take as their own, Balthazar took a deep breath and swiped the coins into his money bag. He would resist the temptation, he would not keep pushing his luck by using that faulty system.

“One hundred percent organic crab, that’s me.”

He stopped and looked down at his own pincers and shell.

“Well, nearly.”

Avoiding the system was one thing, but going through another painful molting was too much. The chrome finish would have to stay for the time being.

As the crab was about to cross the bridge, an adventurer walked into the trading post.

He was young, but had a tired out look to his face, framed by ratty hair. His body language made him seem nervous and jumpy, his arms crossed, hands tightly held under his armpits, eyes darting everywhere, as if looking for something.

“Can I help you?” the suspicious merchant asked.

The man’s gaze jumped to Balthazar.

“You, uh… you the merchant here?” the jumpy adventurer inquired.

“Yes, that’s me. Guessing you must be new around these parts, if you gotta ask that.”

“Nice, uh… nice place you got here,” the other said, while stepping forward, closer to the crab. “Must be doing well for yourself.”

“Can’t complain,” Balthazar said. “Well, I could. And I often do. But never mind that. What are you after? Buying or selling?”

The odd man continued looking around and licked his lips before talking.

“Maybe… maybe selling, yeah. You buy much? Could you afford something expensive?”

“Depends. If it’s worth it, I might,” said the merchant, still eyeing the man up and down. “Why? What do you got?”

The sketchy adventurer pulled a dagger from the back of his belt and gripped it tightly with his gloved hand, tip facing forward.

“I got this here dagger,” he said in a low voice, eyes now fixed on the crab. “I think you should give me all your money in exchange for not getting stabbed by it.”

One question occurred to Balthazar at that moment: “really?”

First, because he couldn’t believe an adventurer was being idiotic enough to rob him, even if he was new around the area.

And second, because it had to happen exactly the day he had given up on using the monocle and the system.

The man didn’t look like much, but looks could be deceiving, and Balthazar had no way to know what level he was. Perhaps having the guts to threaten and attempt to rob him in broad daylight like that meant he was strong enough to do it, or maybe he was just new enough to not know better.

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Without the monocle to check, giving him a pinch somewhere painful seemed like a risk.

Balthazar glanced back towards the other side of the bridge. Could he make it in time? Likely not, he wasn’t built for speed, and the miscreant was too close to evade.

Calling for the golem wouldn’t do him much good either, as by the time Bouldy reached them, Balthazar could have already been turned into a crab kebab.

And using speech and charisma seemed like too much of a gamble when having the tip of a blade so close to your soft parts.

Glancing at the table next to them, Balthazar saw a cup with his drink from earlier, still unfinished.

When life gives you lemonade…

With a quick move of his silver pincer, the crab grabbed the cup of lemonade and tossed its contents at the face of the robber.

“Argh! My eyes!” he yelled, raising both hands to his face.

Balthazar took the opportunity. Making a run for the bridge, he skittered across while shouting to the other side.

“A little help over here!”

Druma was nowhere to be seen, probably collecting wood from somewhere else nearby.

Blue lazily lifted her head from her pillow, looked at the crab, and then went back to napping, much to the crab’s irritation.

Bouldy stood up from the sandy shore and looked towards the bridge.

“Get over here!” the panting merchant yelled at the golem.

Glancing back over his shell, he saw the furious adventurer wiping the liquid off his face and look for the crab through squinting eyes. Grinding his teeth, the man started sprinting after him through the bridge, dagger still in hand.

“Friend?” Bouldy asked, as he met Balthazar at the end of the bridge.

“Not… not friend! Bad man... Keep him away from… from me!” Balthazar strained to say between gasps for air.

Unfortunately, a diet of pastries and a complete lack of cardio made for a very out of shape crab who becomes winded from a short run for his life.

Bouldy took a large step over the crab and stood between him and the bridge.

When the running adventurer got to the end of the footpath, he stopped in front of the boulder that blocked his way, squinting his bloodshot eyes to focus on what was in front of him.

As his vision cleared, he slowly looked up, until the boulder’s face, which had no smile to offer, met him.

“Oh shi—”

With one swift flick of his stone finger, the golem sent the robber shooting back towards the trading post until a stack of wooden crates stopped him with a loud crash.

The pond remained a profanity-free area for another day.

“Oof, thanks for the assist, buddy,” the crab said, taking a deep breath.

“Friend,” said the golem, giving a smile and a thumbs up.

“Boss, boss!” yelled the goblin, running in from the other edge of the pond with his staff in hand. “Druma hear screaming. What happen?”

“Oh, I’m afraid you’re late to the party,” Balthazar responded. “Some idiot had the bright idea of robbing me. Don’t worry, it’s already been taken care of, thanks to Bouldy.”

The merchant looked down at the red cushion where Blue was lying, head resting over her wings, eyes barely open, lazily looking at the commotion around her as if offended that her nap was being interrupted.

“No thanks to you!” Balthazar complained. “I could have been stabbed, you know?”

The drake closed her eyes again and returned to her nap. For a creature with wings for arms, and the ability to breathe fire, she was quite good at giving the cold shoulder.

“Hmph, one day something will really happen to me and then you’ll miss me,” the resentful crab muttered.

He turned to the goblin, who was putting the staff on his back again.

“Druma, get some rope and tie that moron up. I’ll ask the next adventurers who pass by to take him up to town and let them deal with it. I’ll join you in a moment.”

While the goblin scampered to the other side of the bridge and the golem returned to his fish gazing, the crab went into his tent and lifted the cover over his hiding hole.

Picking up his monocle, he stepped back outside and peered through the lens, focusing on the unconscious adventurer being tied up by the goblin on the other side of the pond.

[Level 4 Rogue]

“Are you kidding me?! I could have just pinched the dagger out of his hand!”

***

Later that day, Balthazar sat by the water, biting away at a large chocolate chip cookie, still in a sour mood.

“What a stupid idea!” he started, crumbs flying out of his mouth as he spoke. “How am I supposed to do anything now without all this system stuff? It’s too ingrained into everything I do. I’m just another crab without it. A very smart and handsome crab, sure, but not much else.”

He picked a pebble with his silver pincer and threw it at the pond in frustration. The stone skipped three times on the surface before sinking with a loud plop.

“I could never even do that before!” the crab complained, looking at his left pincer. “And it’s all thanks to this system. Blessing, curse, I don’t even know anymore. I just know I’m stuck with it now. Dependent on it like an addict. Me! Who never had an addiction in his life!”

Balthazar shoved another cookie in his mouth before continuing.

“I shouldn’t have listened to you. Trying to ignore this thing would never work.”

The golem sitting next to him on the shore tilted his head, puzzled. “Friend?”

“Just imagine how bad things could go later when that taxman comes back here, and I’m not using every advantage I can.”

The crab shook his head and readjusted his monocle as he chewed.

“Fine, you win, system,” Balthazar said, to nobody in particular. “We will have to just learn to live with each other. That means you need to stop crapping out on me, too.”

Hesitantly, he pressed the level up prompt in the corner of his vision, as if expecting it to blow his eyes up.

His eyes remained intact, unsurprisingly.

“Well, I guess let’s just get this over with,” the crab said while navigating through his attributes and skills. “Intelligence is a no-brainer. I need as much of it as I can against such an enemy as that inspector.”

Increasing his Intelligence from 20 to 21, Balthazar felt exactly as he did before: an unappreciated genius of trade.

“I really hope that makes an actual difference,” he said with a sigh. “And as for skills… I’ll just hope for the best and play it safe. Time to get that rank A Speech.”

Finishing his skill allocation and closing all the menus, Balthazar stared off into the distance.

“I’m really going to need all the finesse and cunning I can muster to beat that tax inspector tomorrow.”