The beast reared its head and rejoiced as it gorged itself with each greedy bite, eyes closed, cheeks jumping in rhythm with the chewing.

Balthazar observed as his vile foe, the tax inspector, ate himself into an increasing stupor, satisfaction mixed with a hint of bitterness for all the fallen pastries lost in their clash. It was for a good cause, the crab kept thinking, promising he’d honor the noble sacrifices later.

Another form of solace came from the sidelines, where his other nemesis, Antoine, was forced to watch the entire scene, standing with his arms crossed, the long feather on his hat shaking as he impatiently tapped his foot on the floor.

As if Balthazar needed more reasons to believe the other merchant was a bad character, the fact that the fuming man showed no interest in the delicious baked goods laid out in front of him only reinforced the crab’s feelings. Anyone who didn’t like a good pastry could be nothing but a pure villain. It was just one of those simple facts of life.

“Divine, my dear girl,” Abernathy declared, his eyes still closed in delight. “Simply divine. This apple pie feels just like being back in mother’s kitchen as a young boy. I must commend you for your craft. You truly are gifted, Ms. Madeleine.”

The baker bowed her head and her cheeks blushed even more. “Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.”

She took a step back and returned to her previous position, hands held together in front of herself, eyes still refusing to look up from the floor.

“Mr. Balthazar, I absolutely understand what you meant,” the inspector continued, “this pecan pie is something else. The fruity flavor mixed with the spicy feeling is such a perfect match.”

“I told you. Truly something else,” the smiling crab said.

“I almost dare to make a guess and say part of it is a hint of liquor somewhere during its making,” the man said, glancing at the baker with a sly smile.

“I’m glad you enjoy them as much as I do, Mr. Abernathy,” Balthazar said, “but shall we get down to business now, before Mr. Antoine carves a hole in my floor?”

“Oh, certainly, certainly,” Abernathy said, still chewing on a mouthful of rhubarb and strawberry pie. “I believe we had established during our previous encounter that you owed the city a sum of three thousand gold for your business, as well as your unlicensed golem. However, this sum will need readjusting now, to account for your other unregistered employee, the goblin, and while I will have to do some research on the old laws for it, I’m certain the owning of a pet drake requires its own permits as well.”

Balthazar smiled. It was time to go on the offensive.

“About all that,” the gilded crab said, casually leafing through the pages of a thick book in front of him. “I have been reading up on your laws since we last met. And it’s my understanding that taxes are paid by the citizens of a nation for the benefits of living within its society, like protection, amenities, services, and so on.”

“Yes, yes, that is correct,” the taxman agreed, nodding as he continued slowly chewing. “It’s money the city uses for every citizen’s benefit.”

“Exactly,” Balthazar said, closing the book with a heavy thud. “And am I a citizen of Ardville? I’ve never so much as set foot inside your city’s walls. In fact, I believe it was Mr. Antoine here who mentioned I wouldn’t even be allowed through the gates, given the fact that I am a crab.”

Abernathy side-eyed the other merchant, who avoided his gaze by carefully examining his own shoes from behind his crossed arms.

“While I understand and even believe you never entered the city itself,” the older man said, wiping the corners of his mouth lazily with a napkin, “the domain of Ardville extends beyond the walls of the city. The surrounding territories are also part of the hold. The guards patrol the surrounding roads and the farms outside the city are under our protection too, for example.”

“Ah, yes, very interesting detail there, Mr. Abernathy,” said the crab, delicately raising his silver claw in a pinching motion. “I have lived here all my life, and not once have I seen a single guard patrolling this here road. In fact, the first time I saw a guardsman setting foot in here was when Mr. Antoine brought one to accuse of me dealing in stolen goods. An accusation that, might I add, was proven false. And, as probably any guard will be able to confirm, I was the one to capture and deliver the thieves to said guardsman as well.”

Abernathy gave Antoine a full on scowl this time, making no effort to hide his disapproval.

“That sounds like an egregious oversight on our town’s part,” the inspector said, “to not actively maintain a part of our territory and—”

It was time for the real damage.

“See, that’s the thing,” Balthazar interrupted. “I’ve been doing my own research, and, according to the old records from your very town’s library, when the hold’s limits were being redrawn after the war about 90 years ago, a small area was specifically left outside the boundaries of Ardville.”

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The crab opened another large volume to a bookmarked page and traced a pincer over one of its paragraphs. Both the taxman and the other merchant leaned forward slightly, intrigued frowns forming on their faces.

“That’s ridiculous,” Antoine declared in a pompous tone. “This crab just admitted himself to never have set foot within our town’s walls. He could never have accessed our library. This is all made up nonsense!”

“Indeed, I have not,” Balthazar agreed. “Our friend Rye here was kind enough to bring them to me.”

The young man gave them another sheepish wave as they all turned to look at him again.

“As I was saying,” Balthazar continued, “there was a small portion of land excluded from the Ardville domain. As you can probably guess by now, it was the area around this pond we find ourselves in at the moment. According to the logbooks from that era, the area was considered of little value, and too much trouble to be worth patrolling and tending to, due to, and let me quote here, ‘the colony of crabs that control the pond and the immediate areas around it’, and thus it was left out, considered part of the greater wilds outside the city’s hold.”

The smirking crustacean carefully unfolded the map under his books, extending it on the surface of the table between him and the inspector.

“And here is the accompanying map drawn at the time, where you can confirm that Ardville’s claim ends about fifty paces before the entrance to this pond.”

He pointed the tip of his silver pincer at the spot on the map, as Abernathy held his glasses in place and leaned closer to the map, his nose nearly touching the parchment.

“This… this actually seems all correct. It even matches the dates from the logs,” the old man said, turning to the open book. “And it has the official stamp from the mayor at the time. I still recall it from some old papers in the registry when I started working at the tax office.”

The tax inspector looked completely gobsmacked. The battle was nearly won.

“Ridiculous, all of it,” a fuming Antoine exclaimed. “Old words on old paper. All our guardsmen need to do is kick out the rabble and reestablish ownership of the land.”

The last standing. It was time to deliver the final blow.

“Perhaps,” Balthazar calmly said. “But would your mayor really want to start a dispute with a merchant so many adventurers have grown fond of? Would his guards really want to come down here and pick on us?”

He extended his arms to the figures on his side of the table. The four men on the other side all took their turn gazing up at the imposing golem behind the crab, the small goblin wearing a wizard hat and a staff on his back, and the sleeping drake. The two guardsmen exchanged concerned looks once more.

“And all for what? A meaningless small piece of land? One that would likely only bring him more headache, having to deal with the constant menace that are the packs of wolves that often roam around here. Luckily for your citizens, we have been keeping them at bay.”

Madeleine and Rye glanced at each other, both looking slightly confused.

It mattered not. There would be time to explain it to them later. A small white lie was worth it, to put an end to that grueling fight.

“Is that so?” Abernathy said, slowly leaning back on his chair and putting both hands together over his stomach. “Packs of wild wolves are always a troublesome nuisance for a town to deal with. Very expensive too, if we consider the potential for injuries.”

“Oh yes, very much so,” said Balthazar. “I think they’re diseased too, foaming at the mouth, completely rabid. A dangerous menace to any populace.”

“You cannot be taking any of what this… this charlatan is saying seriously!” the furious merchant said, standing with both arms now straight next to his torso, fists clenched.

“Mr. Antoine,” the sluggish taxman said, turning a lazy gaze towards the other man, “I believe we’ve heard quite enough from you. You are here merely as an invited guest, not in any kind of official capacity. In fact, based on what we’ve just learned, neither am I. We’re both outsiders on outside territory. So I’d suggest you stop abusing the hospitality with your outbursts.”

Antoine was growing redder by the second, all the way from his neck up to his forehead.

“You may think you’ve won here, crab,” he said, with a bitter tone, “but don’t think you’ve come out on top with this. You will regret it later, I promise you that.”

With a sneer, the disgruntled merchant turned to the exit, stopping briefly to stare down at the baker for a moment, before leaving with quick stomps.

“Always been a bitter man, that one,” Abernathy casually said, as he removed his glasses and cleaned them on his sleeve. “Ambitious beyond reason.”

“Really?” Balthazar said, looking at the man with curiosity.

“Very much so. Just ask any of his former business partners. The ones that remain, at least.” The old man let out a long yawn. “Oh, excuse me. Clearly, I’m not used to such a feast of sweets anymore. If my wife only knew.”

The crab contemplated the chuckling man, his posture loose, his eyes heavy. He had beaten him. The frightful foe laid defeated in front of him.

If his stupid system had any logic, it would award him with a level up or two in that moment for winning such an epic fight. But alas, the thing was just plain dumb.

“You are a shrewd one, I’ll give you that,” the tired old man continued. “But be careful that your shrewdness does not land you in hot water. You’re bringing a lot of attention onto yourself. Nevertheless, well played today. That was quite amusing to watch. And the food. Oh, just delightful.”

Abernathy slowly stood up, struggling to straighten his back with the extra weight in his stomach.

“But I believe it is time for me to go now. After all, I wouldn’t want to impose on your lands any more than I have already.”

The man gave the crab an amused glance over his lenses.

“Farewell, Mr. Balthazar. Good luck with your endeavors. Stay safe.”

The old man was strange, but perhaps not as terrifying, now that Balthazar was looking at him through the eyes of victory.

As soon as the three figures disappeared out onto the road, Madeleine and Rye let out a sigh of relief.

“I never want to go through something like this ever again,” the baker said, wiping her forehead with her apron. “I hate all this bureaucratic, official stuff. Way too formal for me.”

“Yep, even as just an ‘observer’ I was still on the edge of my seat the whole time,” said Rye. “For a moment I almost thought that idiot Antoine was going to demand the town guardsmen to come down here and seize the land, ha.”

“Yes, yes, it was tough, but we did it,” a relieved Balthazar conceded. “Now I can finally go back to focusing on more important things.”

Rye approached the crab with a smug smile. “I guess we could say you successfully evaded disaster, right?”

Balthazar gave the boy a confused frown.

“I don’t get it. What was that supposed to mean?”