The big tree remained stubbornly silent. A stoic, wooden wall of "nope."

Ultimately, under Hank Fowler's (Han Feng) relentless, uh, "persuasion," it caved.

It could only watch helplessly as Hank, with the subtlety of a rampaging rhino, began to, shall we say, "undress" it.

Hank ripped off four strips of bark, deemed it "good enough," and stopped his arboreal assault. He then proceeded to twist the strips together, two by two, with a practiced hand.

Before long, two surprisingly sturdy ropes made of tree bark materialized in his hands.

The shovel, ever the inquisitive one, spoke up, "Boss, what are you making those ropes for?"

Hank raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "To catch some crabs!"

The shovel practically jumped out of its metaphorical boots. "Those two crabs are seriously tough, you know! You saw what they did! What are you gonna catch 'em with?"

"A true strategist always has a plan," Hank declared with a smirk, casually grabbing two clams as he headed towards the beach where the two oversized crustaceans resided.

After moving forward about 20 or so meters, he reached a patch of tall grass. Hank crouched down, disappearing into the greenery, his gaze fixed on the beach beyond.

Only the female crab was visible on the sand. The male was nowhere to be seen, probably burrowed somewhere, hunting for clams like a sandy, shellfish-seeking missile.

Hank's eyes lit up. If both crabs had been present, his chances would have been slim to none. But with only one, victory seemed, dare he say it, likely.

Of course, Hank wasn't one for reckless abandon. He was a planner, a schemer, a crab-catching connoisseur. He needed the perfect opportunity.

While the female crab was otherwise occupied, Hank casually tossed the two clams onto the beach.

Thud, thud.

The sound, though not loud, was as clear as a dinner bell to the female crab's ears.

She turned, her beady little eyes widening with what could only be described as crustacean excitement when she spotted the two clams nearby. Without a second thought, she scuttled towards them, a picture of shellfish-induced bliss.

She grabbed a clam in each claw, ready to enjoy her hard-earned meal.

"Showtime!"

Hank burst out of the grass like a bat out of hell, both hands gripping the shovel, and brought it down on the female crab with the force of a small meteor.

Caught completely off guard, the female crab had zero time to react. By the time she realized the danger, it was far too late.

Thwack!

The shovel slammed onto the crab's head. The blow, while not cracking her shell, sent her sprawling onto the sand.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Ugh..." The female crab let out a pained groan, her brain scrambled, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Hank planted a foot on the crab's shell, then swiftly used the bark ropes to tie her up, securing her like a Christmas present from a particularly sadistic Santa.

Just then, alerted by the commotion, the male crab emerged from the sand, his eyes blazing with fury when he saw his wife trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey in the hands of a human.

"Human, release my wife!" The male crab brandished his massive claws, charging towards Hank with the fury of a thousand suns.

"Halt! Or your wife gets it!" Hank barked, his voice dripping with menace.

The male crab, his paternal instincts kicking in, skidded to a stop, effectively checkmated.

The female crab, now fully conscious, cried out in terror, "Honey, save me!"

"Human, what do you want?" The male crab glared at Hank, his murderous intent practically radiating off him in waves.

"You wouldn't want anything to happen to your wife, right?" Hank's lips curled into a sly, almost villainous smile.

"Let's talk. Just let my wife go, and I'll do anything," the male crab pleaded, his tone softening. He was clearly terrified.

"Now that's the attitude I was hoping for!" Hank chuckled, then pointed towards the sea. "See those three iron chests out there? Bring them to me, and I'll release your wife."

"You're serious?" The male crab asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

For him, dragging three iron chests ashore was as easy as pie. But could he trust this human to keep his word? Was this some kind of elaborate double-cross?

"Your wife's value, in my eyes, is far less than those three iron chests. So, you don't have to worry about that. Now hurry up, don't keep me waiting," Hank said calmly.

The male crab, without another word, turned and plunged into the sea. He quickly reached the treasure chests and, using his powerful claws, pushed them towards the shore.

"Human, the chests are here! Release her now!" the male crab demanded.

"Toss the three chests over here," Hank instructed.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The male crab hurled the three chests, landing them at Hank's feet.

Hank glanced down, his eyes flickering for a moment. "If I release your wife, you won't hold a grudge, will you?"

"No!" The male crab declared, his voice firm.

Hank couldn't be sure if the crab would honor his promise. But one thing was crystal clear: he couldn't kill the female crab. Doing so would make him a permanent enemy of the male crab, and, more importantly, his entire extended family.

Sure, one crab might not be a big deal. But these things tended to have, you know, relatives. A whole army of angry, shell-clad warriors wasn't exactly on Hank's bucket list. He wouldn't be able to dig for clams in peace anymore.

Thus, after careful consideration, Hank decided to release the female crab. But not before making the male crab do one more thing for him.

Hank cleared his throat. "There's one more thing I need your help with. Get that sea oyster off the reef for me."

The male crab immediately responded, "Human, it's not that I don't want to help, but I can't do anything about that sea oyster. Otherwise, I would have eaten it a long time ago."

"Fine," Hank nodded, untying the bark ropes binding the female crab and tossing her back to her husband.

"Honey!" The female crab scurried over to the male crab.

"I'm here, don't worry. I'll protect you," the male crab said, gently caressing his wife's shell with one of his large claws.

They proceeded to have a full-blown, romantic reunion right in front of Hank.

"PDA. Instant death sentence," Hank muttered under his breath, grabbing the three iron chests and quickly leaving the beach.

He retraced his steps, heading straight back to his shelter.

As he passed the big tree, he casually tossed the two bark ropes onto the ground. "Hey, Tree-bro, I'm done with your bark. Here you go!"

The tree remained silent. What was the point? The bark was already ripped off and turned into ropes. Was he just trying to rub salt in the wound? What a jerk!

Hank took a few more steps, then suddenly stopped. He walked back to the tree and picked up the two bark ropes again, saying to the tree, "You can't do anything with these anyway. I'll just take them with me."

He might need them to catch more crabs in the future, after all. They might come in handy.

The tree's silence was deafening. This was just bullying now! Unbelievable!

A few minutes later, Hank returned to his shelter. He placed the three treasure chests on the ground but didn't open them immediately. Instead, he carefully examined them.

Opening treasure chests was always a gamble. Sometimes you hit the jackpot with valuable resources, sometimes you unleashed a nasty surprise.

Until he was sure it was safe, he wouldn't dare open them. Not a chance.