What kind of choice is that?! My is my life!

  Balthazar’s eyestalks twisted around, watg the four bandits encirg him. He was surrounded and, with his poor running skills, he khere was no ce to run away without being immediately caught.

  “You heard the dy,” said one of the bandits behind the crab, by far the biggest of the four. “Cough up all your , or we crack you open a ourselves.”

  “Yeah,” said the ratty-looking one, “just hand it over, save us all the cuts and bruises.”

  “Shut up, Tem,” barked the apparent leader of the group.

  He had been the first oo appear, and his outfit, while a low-grade armor, was still by far the least worn out between the four of them. He carried a rge machete on his belt, which he had not yet uhed, despite all the other bandits having done so with their respective ons. This was enough to tell Balthazar that he was clearly the boss of the gang.

  “I… I think maybe you guys got the wrong traveler, friends,” the crab hesitantly said, in a hurried attempt at pg the bandits slowly advang towards him.

  “Right,” started the leader, with a mog smile on his face. “Because I’m sure there are so many crabs traveling these roads. With a backpack. And talking.”

  “Alright, fair point,” said Balthazar, giving himself a roll of his eyes for such a poor attempt at subterfuge. “There’s only one mert crab, and that’s me, but really, I’ve been doing business all day, fels. I’ve spent all my buying loot from passing adventurers. I got no gold left, and trust me, you also don’t want any of the junk I’ve bought. It’s all so worthless. Those idiots really do pick up anything they see. It’s only good for selling to other dumb adventurers. Not like you, smart and wise… bandits.”

  The mert put on a forced smile of someone who had just been offered a dung pie and was still trying to look friendly, while three of the bandits exged slightly fused looks at one another.

  “You talk too much, crab,” said the rger thug, reag down to grab Balthazar’s backpack.

  “Woah there, buddy,” said the crusta, taking a side step to avoid the man’s hand. “No toug the merdise unless yonna buy it!”

  “Quit stalling and hand over that money bag,” said the woman among them, flig the pocket ko her other hand as she reached for the crab’s Bag of Holding Mohat was tied to the side of his shell.

  As she grasped it, the bag held ihe knot on the rope tightening the more she pulled. One of Balthazar’s specialties: the eight-point pincer knot. The harder you pull on it, the tighter it bees.

  Before she could bring her bde up to the rope and cut it, Balthazar spun around once again, out of her reach.

  “Not nice, miss!” said the crab, wagging a pi her. “You ’t just go around grabbing someone’s money sack like that! sent matters!”

  The woman’s lips twisted into an irked expression as Balthazar backed away from her, only to find himself now closer to the sy one from the group.

  “e on, this will go a lot easier for everyone if you just drop your stuff and back away,” said the bandit. “We might eve you go.”

  The bigger o out a devious chuckle. “No we won’t.”

  “Shut up, Dax!” said the ratty one.

  “Both of you shut up,” their boss ordered. “I’m getting tired of this nonsense. Just give him a beating and take his stuff. I wanna go back to the tavern and grab a pint before I find a dice table to bet his money on.”

  The cowardly bandit shrugged without much vi. “You heard the boss. Orders are orders.”

  Balthazar gulped. He knew he stood no ce against all of them in a prht.

  But this crab did not o get involved in a prht, when he had somethier: a mouth full of words and a bag full of junk.

  I guess if you ’t beat them… dazzle them.

  “Whose orders?” Balthazar said to the bandit approag him.

  “Huh?”

  “Who gave you the order to attack me?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked the fused man. “I just told you, the bht there.”

  The crab looked over to where the bandit ointing, towards the gang’s leader.

  “And why are you doing what he tells you?”

  “Because… because he’s the boss! It’s right there ile!”

  “And why is he the boss?”

  “Wha…”

  “Why aren’t any of you the boss instead?” Balthazar pointed a pi the bigger thug behind him. “Why isn’t he the boss, for example? He’s clearly the rgest of the group.”

  “Me?” said the big guy, raising both eyebrows in surprise as he poi his ow. “You think I would make a good—”

  “Shut up, Dax,” said the woman. “The crab is clearly trying to fuse you, you idiots.”

  “Me?” said Balthazar. “No, no, madame. I’m only asking questions here.”

  “Why’s it taking you muppets so long to skin a bloody crab? Just get it over with and stop hum him,” the boss yelled from his spot he tree, from which he still hadn’t moved since revealing himself.

  “I mean, have you listeo him? He doesn’t evehat crabs don’t have skin! He doesn’t sound very bright to me.”

  Dax scratched the top of his head, while Tem just seemed flicted. The woman, meanwhile, seemed to be growing angry.

  “For Crea’s sake, I have to do everything around here!” she excimed, bringing her pocket knife up and charging towards the crab.

  Balthazar braced for impact, but as the bde ected with his chitin, it bent and she tip falling to the ground with a tiny plink.

  ht, natural armor.

  The woman looked down at her broken knife and then up into the crab’s eyes with a livid expression.

  “That is some very bad quality material you have there,” said Balthazar.

  “Get him, Dax!” the woman screamed, bag away from the crusta.

  The rge thug stepped forward, raising a crude wooden club over his head, ready t it down on Balthazar’s shell.

  “And look at that club! Shoddy! It even has a cra it!” the crab quickly excimed.

  [The Gift of the Crab: success]

  Uh… iing.

  The bandit stopped halfway through his attack, frowned, and then looked at his on. “It does?”

  Balthazar took a deep breath.

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you, guys. Why are you all taking orders from that fel over there? He doesn’t even provide you with proper equipment, aands over there doing nothing while you three do all the work.”

  The mert moved closer to the rger thug.

  “Think about it: why should the bigger guy be taking orders from someone clearly smaller and weaker?”

  Dax scratched his five o’clock shadow, clearly doing his best to squeeze out a plete thought.

  Balthazar then swiftly moved over to the bandit dy, who recoiled at his approach.

  “And did you notice how your ‘leader’ did not even move a finger when your service on failed catastrophically against me there? Imagine I was actually a violent crab. I could have easily snapped you in twht there and then, and you would have beeo your own luck by him and his poor job ditions!”

  Once again, a system notification popped up in the er of Balthazar’s sight.

  [The Gift of the Crab: success]

  “I… but… I mean, he could have done something, I guess…”

  Without missing a step, the crab skittered towards the ratty bandit.

  “And as for you…” Balthazar recoiled slightly as he got closer to the man’s fad felt his breath, foul and rotten enough to kill the roadside flowers if he blew on them. “Does this job even offer dental? I bet it doesn’t!”

  Another system notification of success appeared, and the sy man frowned with a puzzled expression. “Denta-what??”

  “Exactly! You don’t even know!” the crab loudly excimed.

  “Enough of this rubbish,” the gang leader said, finally stepping away from his tree. “Sick of watg you morons pying with this crab. Take care of him, or I’m keeping your cut of the spoils.”

  That seemed to worry the three thieves.

  “And what,” Balthazar started, turning to the trio, “may I ask, my thuggish friends, is your cut of the profits after a successful robbery, raid, or pilge?”

  “Well, the boss gets half, because he’s the boss, a the other half,” said the sy one.

  “Tem, shut up! Why are you telling the crab that?” the woman said, shoving her elbow against his side.

  “Yeah, and that’s fair, because it’s an equal split!” excimed the bigger bandit with a dumb smile on his face, proud to tribute to the discussion with a thoughtful clusion from his own head.

  “No, because if you three have to split that half then all eae of you ends up with is actually 16.6666666667%!”

  The trio stared at the crab before exging fused g each other.

  “Oh gold help me…” Balthazar muttered. “Do they not teach you basic math at bandit school?! It meas a whole half to himself, while you three have to divide yours into smaller scraps!”

  “Oooooh!” said the ratty bandit.

  The rger thug scratched the top of his head once again. “I still don’t get it…”

  “Alright, you idiots had your ce, I’m handling this bbbermouth myself!” annouhe bandit chief, stepping towards the traveling mert.

  “Hang on,” said the woman, steppiween her boss and his target. “Now I wanna hear him out. He kinda makes some good points.”

  “Brenda, I swear, if you don’t get out of my way…”

  “Don’t talk to Brendy like that,” said the bigger bandit, stepping past the crab and towards the other two. “That’s not nice.”

  “How e you always hang bad let us do all the heavy lifting but the half of everything, huh, Ja?! How e you didn’t even try to help me when the bde you gave me st week broke? You said that it ure steel!”

  “G-guys… we shouldn’t fight,” the remaining bandit said. “Boss, maybe we should just solve this by settling on a more fair share for everyone and—”

  “You worthless s aren’t getting anything more,” yelled the gang leader, clearly growing angrier. “I’m the boss, what I say goes!”

  “You know,” interjected Balthazar, addressing the lower thugs in front of him and ign the angry boss behind them, “you guys should stick together and voice your s. Demaer shares of the stolen goods! Better ons to rob travelers with! Better dental hygiene! Really make your voice be heard by the powers that be. Like some kind of union of bandit rights.”

  “Yeah, what he said!” excimed the woman.

  “I agree with Brenda!” said the rge thug. “I like what the talking crab is saying!”

  “I mean, I guess he does make a bunch of fair points…” the more cowardly thief said.

  “I swear on me mum, you bastards, if you don’t snap out of… whatever’s gotten into you, I will…” the bandit boss pulled his machete from his belt. Uhe other ons, this one ristine and of det quality.

  The other three visibly recoiled at the sight of their chief’s bde being uhed.

  “I khis was a bad idea!” cried the ratty thief.

  “Dax, you got your club, stand in front of us!” said Brenda.

  “But it’s cracked,” the rger one said with a whimper and a lost puppy face.

  “After I’m doh you,” said the boss, “I’ll hahe crab myself, and I’ll keep all the spoils to myself. How’s that for a fair share, you bloody morons?”

  “Perhaps I could be of assistance,” Balthazar said to the trio, from his safe distance behind them. “I just ’t stand idly by and not help such a noble movement as yours.”

  The crab quickly dug through his Backpack of Holding, searg for any worthless junk he could find.

  “Aha! Here, catch!” said the mert, tossing a crossbow at the ratty bandit. “A fine quality ranged on to keep you at a safe distance from your oppo. It’s already loaded, too.”

  The thief looked at the on he had just caught in his hands. It was made of old wood, it had bits chipped off here and there, and the string on it seemed to be close to breaking, but he smiled like a kid opening a birthday present.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doin—” the bandit leader started as he took a step forward, but he immediately froze as Tem poihe crossbow at his chest.

  “H-hold it, boss,” he said, his knees shaking and his voice faltering. “W-we just wanna talk. We solve this, just don’t e any closer for now.”

  “Ya bloody traitor,” Ja said bitterly. “I should have known you’d be a turncoat with no honor, Tem.”

  “Oh please,” said Brenda, “what are you even talking about? We’re bandits! We’re all scum, it’s part of the job description!”

  “Well said, miss!” said Balthazar from the back. “Here, this is for you. This one is actually made of pure stainless steel!”

  The crab tossed a bde across the ground towards the woman, who stopped it with her boot before pig it up and examining it against the moonlight.

  It was a k had a long and sharp bde, and it was in fact made of pure steel. It was also a kit knife meant to cut pies, but that wasn’t an importaail worth pointing ht there and then.

  “Now, let’s talk about that cut, Ja,” said the dy bandit, putting on a devious smile as she flicked the ko a sideosition against the side of her wrist.

  “What about me, mister crab?” said Dax, looking at Balthazar with pleading eyes like a five-year-old kid. A very rge and broad-shouldered five-year-old kid. “Do I not get something too?”

  “Uhh… yes, you…” said the mert, stretg his eyestalks to peek into his pack. “I’m sure I’ve got something for you here.”

  Crap, I’ve got nothing for him here.

  After much shuffling and rummaging, Balthazar finally grabbed something from the bag.

  Screw it, this will have to do, so long as it keeps the big guy happy with me.

  He tossed a round gss bottle full of an e, almost red liquid at the thug, who caught it in his hand.

  “That’s a potion of… might!” said the mert. “It will make you as strong as a bull with just one gulp. Or, well… maybe two bulls, in your case.”

  I have no idea what that potion is…

  “Oh, nice!” said the big guy, before downing the ehing without hesitation.

  “I’ll hang you all for this,” said the (now former) leader of the bandit group. “Eae of you.”

  “e on, boss,” said Tem, slowly making a circle around the boss, crossbow still aimed at him, “we just wanted a better deal.”

  “Yeah, Ja,” said Brenda, moving to his other fnk, “yht this on yourself. The crab just opened our eyes to the obvious.”

  Alright, I think this is the part where I get out of the crossfire area and wait for them to take each other out.

  Balthazar slipped behind a nearby bush as he observed the bigger thug stumble a few steps between him and the rest of the group.

  What’s up with that one?

  “G-guys…” Dax said with difficulty. “I don’t feel so good…”

  Balthazar’s eyestalks frowned.

  What was that bottle I gave him? I swear I remember them from before on my shelves…

  The crab’s eyes went wide as the memory of the description for those round e bottles surfaced in his mind.

  [Fireburst co]

  [Throwing on]

  [Made with highly fmmable alchemy ingredients, this bottle will explode into a burst of fmes upon tact. Keep out of reach of children and low INT adventurers.]

  Suddenly, the distaween him and the bandits, as well as his choice of cover behind a bush, no longer felt as safe anymore.

  “Mister crab? Why does my tummy hurt?” said the bandit, turning around to look for the mert as his face turned red, and his stomach grew dangerously bigger. “I feel… I feel like I’m gonna…”

  Balthazar looked around for better cover, but there was none.

  “Oh crabapples…”