Merchant Crab

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.”

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