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Merchant Crab-Chapter 208: Hat’s Off
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The afternoon had gone by quickly, the sun already descending toward the horizon like a molten coin sinking into a sea of gold. Days were always shorter in winter, but for a busy crab like Balthazar, time seemed to fly even faster.
With barely any time to settle back in after his trip, the merchant found himself already joint-deep in chaos. Chocolate had rained from the sky, a gaping hole had appeared on the other side of his pond, he had dusty skeletons for neighbors now, and hordes of adventurers were coming down to his home to enter the new dungeon. And all the crab wanted to do was find a hat to wear.
After spending the last few hours dealing with a constant flow of adventurer parties making their way into Semla Dungeon and selling them essential junk they would definitely need for their expedition, Balthazar felt exhausted.
Making coin was all well and good, that had not changed for the crabby merchant, but for once he wished the bothersome humans would give him a break and allow the crab some time to get his bearings.
He had turned the contents of five shelves inside out already, and still not found where his stock of hats was. As much as he appreciated Henrietta and Tristan for taking care of his bazaar while he was gone, Balthazar still wished they had not changed the place of everything. Sure, his previous sorting system had no actual sorting to it and consisted of randomly shoving whatever items he traded for in whatever empty shelf space he found, but at least back then he knew where to find everything. Even if it sometimes took him half an hour of rummaging and Druma to put everything back afterward.
It was my organized chaos and it worked, damn it! Balthazar thought.
Naturally, it crossed the crab’s mind to ask the toad where the hats were now, but what also crossed his mind was his pride. Balthazar had come a long way since the cranky crustacean who did not appreciate anyone’s company but his own, but there were still some things he wasn’t willing to let go of so easily. Namely, slices of pie, coins, and his precious pride. In that order.
It’s my bazaar, I’ll be damned if I need to ask someone else where to find my own junk! That would just be embarrassing!
The crab had expected to find plenty of hats when he finally found his stockpile of helmets, but for whatever reason unfathomable to him, his business partners did not seem to keep both types of headgear next to each other.
At first, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try one of the helmets on, even if as a crustacean he was perfectly confident he had no need for external forms of armor like all those soft-shelled humans. Disappointment quickly struck him as the metal helmet the crab placed atop his shell simply slipped off his polished chitin and hit the ground with a thud.
As it had done since the first day, the system informed him that those pieces of gear were incompatible with his body type. Likely because his anatomy was already too perfect for such poor imitations of his natural armor.
But just as the exasperated crustacean was about ready to throw the whole headgear ordeal to the side and go look for a bite to eat, something caught his gaze from one of the shelves.
Balthazar reached into the back of the shelf with both arms stretched, fishing for the crumpled item resting there.
As he pulled his pincers out, they brought with them a piece of gear covered in dust, which the crab swiftly blew away to reveal exactly what he had been looking for—a hat.
The merchant wasted no time reaching for his golden monocle, safely stored in the pouch he carried tied to the side of his shell wherever he went.
[Straw Hat]
[+1 protection from sun damage]
“Fascinating,” the crustacean muttered.
The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.
He examined the flimsy piece of weaved straw in his pincers, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he pondered on its shape. It was no doubt meant for the tiny heads of humans and no part of Balthazar’s flawless anatomy would fit the bowl-like underside of the hat. Yet, the crab felt compelled to try it on, like some unseen force whispered into his mind to finally find out what the big deal about hats really was.
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He had never worn one. He could not, the system made sure of it by making them fall off his carapace every time. Balthazar would have never cared about wearing one before either, but as was the custom with the stubborn crustacean, if someone told him he cannot do something, he will want nothing more than to do exactly that.
The merchant held the Straw Hat item above his carapace with both pincers, the anticipation titillating his every sense as he slowly lowered it onto his awaiting shell.
He was finally going to do it. The crab was going to wear a hat.
Balthazar could almost swear that for a moment he could hear a subtle angelic chorus in the distance, and that the light from the iron lantern hanging from the ceiling right above him shone brighter than the rest.
The air grew thinner all around as the rough straw approached the hard chitin, until it landed at last.
[Straw Hat equipped]
Balthazar froze in place, both pincers still held open above his shell, a broad smile of anticipation stretched across his face.
Not a sound echoed through the bazaar, save for the bouncing noise of a tumbleweed that rolled through the front door, passed in front of Balthazar, and quickly vanished through the back door. Where that thing had come from, the crab did not know.
“Well, that was a disappointment!” the merchant finally exclaimed, throwing his pincers down and wiping the smile off his own face in a flash.
Balthazar skittered to a nearby tall mirror, meant for clients to check themselves when trying on new gear, and admired the hat of straw that sat precariously atop his carapace.
“I look more like a tourist crab with this thing!” he said. “Or a farmer crab. And goodness knows we already have enough unlikely farmers around these parts as it is!”
Noticing that the system had not forcibly prevented him from wearing that piece of equipment, Balthazar tapped on his chin with the tip of his pincer, pondering, before bringing up the description of his new trait.
[Crab of Many Hats]
[Trait]
[Your versatility and knack for improvising (or mostly just making things up as you go) has granted you the ability to do what once seemed impossible. You can now equip hats.]
“I suppose that makes sense. It says I can equip hats, not helmets or even just headgear in general.”
As the crab turned to check himself from behind, the hat slid off his chitin and fell upside down to the floor.
“Ah, crabapples,” Balthazar said, picking up the headpiece. “Stay on, you silly thing.”
He equipped the item again, but as he turned to the mirror, the hat fell once more.
Balthazar’s eyestalks curled in annoyance, but he also realized the system was not giving him any warnings when the hat slipped off him.
“Figures,” he grumbled. “It lets me equip hats, but it does nothing to make them stay on after I do. That’s just… great.”
The irked crustacean groaned at his misfortune for having been born with a superior body shape before grabbing the straw item again and examining it through his Monocle of Exposition again.
“+1 sun damage protection, eh?” he whispered idly. “I wonder what that means exactly.”
Balthazar walked out of the trading post’s front door, standing on the path leading down from the main road as he carefully placed the hat on his carapace once again.
Holding the headpiece in place with one claw, the crab tilted himself up to look at the sky, his facial expression a grimace as the brightness of daylight blinded him after coming from the inside of the bazaar.
He stared dumbly at the cloudy late-afternoon sky for a while as absolutely nothing happened.
“Where the hell is the sun?!” he finally blurted out.
Lowering his eyestalks and standing straight again, the merchant placed both pincers on the sides of his carapace.
“Typical. When I need some sunlight, there’s none.” He sighed. “Why would I need sun protection in the winter anyway?”
As if the very world itself was done with the crab’s complaints about its gifts, a powerful gust of cold wind blew down the road, sweeping the unsecured straw hat from his carapace and sending it up into the air.
“My hat!” Balthazar yelled, both pincers reaching up but failing to catch the headpiece in time.
The crab ran a few paces, chasing the spinning piece of straw as it swirled and swayed in the breeze, until it went over a group of tall boulders and disappeared out of sight.
“Bah!” exclaimed the fed-up crustacean. “Forget it. That thing isn’t worth it. The wind can have it.”
Waving his pincer down dismissively, Balthazar turned to head back inside.
“Hats are overrated anyway,” he said to himself. “I didn’t need them before, I don’t need them now. Maybe if I find a hat fit for a gentlecrab like myself I will consider it. But for now, I’ve got better things to focus on.”
Balthazar stopped in the middle of the bazaar, wondering where his goblin assistant was. He had sent him out on a very important task, and he figured it had been long enough for him to be back already.
“I swear, Druma, you better not be out there eating all the—”
“Boss! Boss!” an excited voice called from the back. “Druma is back!”
The crab turned to see the goblin entering the gazebo, carrying in his arms a huge clay basin filled with several dark chunks of something brown.
Balthazar’s eyestalks jumped. “Chocolate!”
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