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Chapter 152: Alley Cats



“Who’s that?” asked Suze.

“That’s Olivia, the mayor’s niece. I met her earlier when she beat the lactose out of a mugger,” Balthazar told the younger girl, before turning his attention back to the older one. “Your aunt asked me to look into the missing mangoes problem. We’re following a lead.”

The noblewoman frowned. “You’re looking for Onion Jake too?”

It was Balthazar’s turn to frown. “What do you mean? Why are you looking for him? Did the baroness send you as well?”

Olivia’s frown was quickly replaced with a rise of her eyebrows and a shifty glance away.

“Well, no, not exactly,” she said. “I followed my own leads to get here.”

“So she doesn’t know you’re chasing the mango thieves too?” the merchant asked.

“I’m sure she does, or will soon,” the young woman said. “She has informants and spies everywhere. I don’t care. Nobody is doing anything to stop these bandits. They’re embarrassing our family, and damaging the city’s business. Someone needed to step up! I told her I could help, but she wouldn’t let me, so I did what any good Marquessa clan member would do: I did things my own way.”

Balthazar sighed.

“That’s great that you’re going through your rebellious phase and all, but we were trying to conduct an investigation discreetly over here.”

“A big crab and a little girl?” Olivia said with some disdain. “Why are you bringing a street beggar along anyway?”

“Hey! I’m not a beggar,” Suze piped up. “My name’s Suze and I’m a tour guide who earns her coin fair and square. I even pay taxes!”

The merchant turned to her with a surprised look. “You do?!”

“Not really, but don’t tell her that,” the little girl whispered back.

“Point is,” said Olivia, “I followed my own trail leading to the Onion Crew, and I’m not leaving until I see this through.”

“Wait,” said the crab. “So the Onion Crew might also be the Mango Thieves? These guys really need to hire a publicist…”

“We got here first!” the defiant street urchin said to the baroness’s niece.

Balthazar raised both pincers. “Alright, alright, let’s calm down. Maybe we could work together, eh? We’re all in this with the same objective anyway, right?”

“I’m only in it for the pie,” Suze said with a shrug.

“Very relatable,” the crustacean said with a nod.

“I’m here to protect my family’s name,” Olivia declared.

The traveling merchant nodded again. “Sure, and totally not because you feel you have to prove yourself to your aunt. Either way, we’ll achieve more by figuring out how to reach this Jake fella together than by bickering in an alley all night.”

Approaching the fence quietly, each one of them found a slit in the wood to look through.

“He doesn’t look that tough,” said the Marquessa girl. “I bet I could go in there and knock him out before he calls anyone.”

“Geez, what’s with you and wanting to beat up bandits?” Balthazar whispered.

“They deserve it.”

“That’s silly,” said the street urchin. “If one of you boosts me over the fence, I could just sneak past him and get in through a window.”

“Nonsense. I’m no thief to be breaking and entering into places,” Olivia retorted.

“Yeah? And starting a fight with the guard is a better idea?” Suze shot back.

“Will you two shush?” Balthazar said. “Someone’s gonna hear us if you two don’t quiet down.”

A shuffling sound nearby made the crab jump in place, worried they were about to be caught by a ruffian. As the trio turned to the source of the noise, they saw a black feline figure against the warm light shining from the nearby window, walking along the edge of a roof.

“It’s just a cat,” Olivia said with a small sigh of relief.

“Pretty kitty!” said Suze, grinning at the creature.

The black cat stopped for a moment, its big blue eyes observing the sneaky trio below before jumping off the roof and disappearing into the darkness of the alley.

His feeling of unease subsiding, Balthazar turned to the two girls.

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“How about we try it my way?”

“Your way?” the two girls said in unison.

“Yes. We talk our way in.”

Suze and Olivia exchanged a glance before they both covered their mouths in a giggling fit.

“He wants to talk to the bandit,” the smaller one said between stifled laughter.

“I know, right?” said the other. “He thinks they’ll just let him in!”

Scowling, Balthazar exhaled sharply.

“You two can wait here.”

Leaving them no time to say anything, or more likely, laugh at him again, the merchant made his way around the fence until he found the way through.

The house on the other side was small and looked like it could do with some maintenance. The front door stood out for being thick and reinforced with iron, something that didn’t seem to match other similar buildings around that neighborhood.

Seeing the approaching crab, the man standing guard by it bounced forward from the wall he was leaning against and quickly pocketed his knife.

“Oi, you lost or somethin’?” he barked.

“Evening, good sir!” the traveler said, with a wave of his claw.

The bandit looked left and right, as if unsure what “sir” the crustacean was talking to.

“Yes, it’s you I was looking for,” said Balthazar.

“Me?” the man said with a heavy frown. “What you want with me?”

Ah, crap, I didn’t think this far…

“You’re… a bandit, right?” the crab asked.

“Yeah,” the thug said. “I mean… no. Ya can’t prove nothin’. I’m just hanging out by a door. Ain’t nothin’ bandit-like or illegal ‘bout that.”

“Relax,” Balthazar said, trying to chuckle in a friendly manner. “I’m not here to bring you trouble. I was hoping to talk with you about, uh… your rights.”

The ruffian appeared increasingly confused, and looked at his right fist with a frown.

“What’s wrong with my right hook?” he said. “Someone been trash talking the way I punch again?!”

“No, no, not those rights!” the crustacean hurriedly assured him. “I mean your rights as a hard-working bandit. I’m with the… hmm… Bandit Rights Association!”

“The what now?!”

“We’re all about providing support and making you more comfortable!”

The guard’s scowl was growing alarmingly hostile. “Ya messin’ with me or somethin’?”

“No, not at all! Lots of fine bandits like yourself are starting to organize and demanding better working conditions from their greedy bandit chiefs.”

“What ya just call my boss, ya little punk?!”

Balthazar waved his pincers apologetically. “Nothing! I don’t even know your boss! In fact, I was hoping you could let me inside and introduce me to him.”

The bandit pulled the switchblade out of his pocket again.

“How do you know the boss is here? Who you been talkin’ to?!”

The crab gulped quietly.

Get it together, Balthazar. You’ve dealt with far smarter idiots than this guy.

He glanced down at the shiny steel blade in the thug’s hand.

Although they usually don’t have a knife in their hand while negotiating…

“Your fellow Onion Crew bandits, of course,” the merchant replied, deciding being bold was the way to go.

“Who’s been snitchin’?!” the guard angrily barked, his blade now held higher.

“See, that’s one of the problems with the bandit working class,” Balthazar calmly said while shaking his shell. “Your bosses convince you that talking and sharing the details about how big your cut is, what privileges you get, and so on, is snitching. Sowing suspicion and discord among you guys.”

“My cut?” the criminal said, raising one eyebrow in sudden interest. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“You need to keep up with the news, friend,” the confident crab stated. “Every day more and more bandits are standing up for themselves and getting the proper fair share from their hard labor of stealing, pillaging, and ransacking. Some are even getting job insurance!”

The puzzled thug scratched above his ear with the tip of the switchblade as he thought long and hard about the barrage of overwhelming words the crustacean was unloading on him.

“Does that mean, like… more money?”

“Yes! Exactly!” replied the merchant. “Among many other things. That’s what the Bandit Rights Association is all about. More profits for you! Now, if you invite me in, we could discuss your rights with your boss and see about improving your work conditions.”

The goon scratched his chin. “I dunno. This whole thing sounds fishy.”

“Of course it does, I am a crab after all!” Balthazar said with a wide grin. “But look at me, you can tell I’m a trustworthy crab, can’t you?”

[The Gift of the Crab: success]

“Oh, alright,” the guard said, waving the switchblade around as he prepared to put it back in his pocket. “Ain’t no way they’d send a crab to attack our place any—”

With a dry “bonk” coming from the back of his head, the thug fell forward onto the ground, knocked out.

Dumbfounded, Balthazar looked up to where he stood a moment before, and found Olivia standing there, with a long plank of wood in her hands.

“What did you do?!” the crab exclaimed.

“I took him out,” she said. “You’re welcome.”

“I was about to convince him to let me in!”

“Oh please, he was about to gut you with that knife,” said the young woman. “I could see it in his eyes.”

“How?! You were behind him!” the exasperated crab said, waving his tensed up arms around.

“It was implied!”

“You have some aggression issues, you know that, right?!”

“And you must have a loose screw in that shell! Seriously, Bandit Rights Association?!”

“Why is that so funny?! It’s a great name!”

A dry cough came from nearby and they both turned to look at Suze, standing near the reinforced door.

“No guard,” she said, pointing her hands towards the entrance. “Are we gonna go in, or are you two gonna keep fighting like little children?”

Grumbling, the crab and the human headed to the door.

“That must be embarrassing for you, coming from a kid,” Olivia said, as she threw the piece of wood aside and opened the unlocked door.

“What do you mean?!” said Balthazar. “She was clearly looking at you when she said little children!”

The two of them continued bickering as the trio entered the house, stepping through a small corridor and arriving at a large open hall.

“What matters is that I got us inside, didn’t I?” the baroness’s niece said.

“What do you mean, you got us inside?! I’m the one who…”

The crab’s words trailed off as he saw Olivia’s gaze turn to the room around them and widen with realization.

Finally remembering where they were, Balthazar slowly turned his eyestalks too.

All around the hall, sitting on tables and frozen in place with their tankards of ale in hand, were about twenty bandits, all staring in disbelief at the two girls and one crab who just came strolling into their hideout.

“Oh…”

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