人妻在夫面前被性爆

[Level 5 Baker]

“Hello.” The girl waved at him with a friendly smile. “Are you Balthazar?”

Standing on the side of the road with a dumb expression and eyes fixated on the basket she was carrying, the crab only managed an attempt at mouthing a few words, except instead of sound, they produced small bubbles.

“Oh no, I hope I didn’t get the wrong crab.”

“No, no!” the crab shouted, snapping out of his trance. “Me, Balthazar, that’s me, yes, I’m me!”

“Oh good, I was worried there for a moment,” the girl said, smile back on her face. “I heard you were looking for a baker?”

“Yes, yes. Are you the one? Do you create... Slices of Apple Pie?”

Balthazar’s tiny eyes were shiny, like the ones of a small child pleading to their parents.

The girl looked at the crab with a blink before letting out a hearty laugh.

“Well, I do make pies, and some of them are apple pies. And I suppose I often cut them into slices too, so yes, I guess that’s me.”

“Magnificent!” Balthazar exclaimed.

“The nice man that told me about you mentioned the part about the pies, so I figured it was a good idea to bring some with me.”

Taking the wicker basket off her arm, she leaned over slightly and lifted one lid, revealing not just a slice, but an entire perfectly circular fresh apple pie.

Balthazar felt all eight of his legs going weak, but trying to hold himself together, he signaled the girl. “Not here. Come, follow me.”

Quickly crossing the water to his inner islet with the baker close behind, doing her best not to get her shoes wet—not very successfully—or fall in the water, they both sat down next to a wooden board with some recently purchased items on it that Balthazar had been sorting through.

“Can never be too careful,” he began, scouting the surrounding skies with a slightly paranoid look. “They might show up when you least expect them.”

“They?” the girl inquired, trying to look for something in the air that wasn’t there.

“Yes, the birds, tricky little beasts. Never trust one if you know what’s good for you.” He quickly changed demeanor. “But never mind them now, please, would you mind…”

His eyes were greedily staring at the basket she had laid down in front of her knees.

“Of course,” she said, with a warm smile, while opening the basket.

Pulling the plate with the pie and a knife from within it, the girl placed it on an empty area of the wooden board and carefully carved out a generous slice, its moist apple filling glistening as she brought it up from the main piece, and handed it over to the crab’s awaiting pincers.

With no hesitation, Balthazar took the tip of the triangular slice and bit into it. There were no words he could find to express the joy he felt in that moment, finally tasting that delicious treat again. It was even better than the one he had received from the adventurer, probably because this one was much fresher than the slice that, most likely, spent a couple of days or more traveling inside a bag. Each thinly sliced piece of apple covering it perfectly caramelized, its filling was the sweetest thing he had ever experienced, and even the crust was soft and the right amount of crumbly.

“Itsh justsh sho good,” Balthazar said, with his mouth full, between loud chewing. The girl smiled and chuckled at the crab, a satisfaction painted on her face despite his poor manners.

“I’m really glad you like it,” she said. “It really makes my day to watch someone truly enjoy something I made.”

“I don’t just like it, I love it!” he responded, tossing the last piece of his slice into his mouth.

“Where are my manners? I just realized I haven’t properly introduced myself,” she suddenly said, clapping her hands together. “I’m Madeleine, pleased to meet you. "

“Oh right, nice to meet you, Madeleine,” he said, while clearing the crumbs around his mouth with his pincers. “I’m Balthazar, but I suppose you already knew that.”

“Yes, your envoy told me your name,” Madeleine explained. “And that’s a very nice name, Balthazar.”

“Thanks. But may I ask you, how do you create these?”

“The pie?” she asked, looking at the plate between them. “I just bake them myself, you know, get ingredients, make the dough, add some love, put it in the oven, all that. I started when I was little. It was my grandmother who taught me.”

“Of course,” Balthazar pondered, rubbing his chin which still had some crumbs on it, “it makes sense this would be an ancient knowledge passed down through the generations and required years of practice.”

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“You’re a funny crab, you know that?” Madeleine laughed. “It’s just baking. Plenty of people do it. I’m no one special. Even in town, there are many others who bake things, pies, other cakes, bread, cookies, you name it. At most, I might be the only one who does it as her full-time job, but that’s about it.”

“You joke, surely?” the crab asked in disbelief. “There are others who produce these treasures, and there’s other varieties besides this one?”

“Of course. In fact,” the baker said, as she lifted the other lid of her basket, “I wasn’t sure which one to bring over, so I decided to bring both an apple and a pumpkin pie.”

Balthazar’s jaw dropped as he saw a second pie, this one more orange in color and with no slices of fruit covering it, emerge from the basket.

“Would you like another slice?”

“You know I do, miss baker!”

With a joyful smile on her freckled face, Madeleine served the crab a slice of pumpkin pie, before cutting a slightly smaller one for herself.

They both sat under the sparse shade of the old tree, as the water calmly rolled from the creek and across the surface of the pond, gentle ripples fading before reaching the shore, the beautiful sound of no birds singing in the air, while enjoying their treat.

“So, tell me,” she said, between small bites of her slice, “how did you discover pie in the first place?”

“Oh, you see, there were these two adventurers,” Balthazar began, between not so small bites, “and one of them wanted this sword stuck in that stone over there. So, long story short, we made a trade, his slice of pie for the sword. A sucker, that one was, I tell you.”

The girl looked at him with an amused expression of someone who wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“Well, alright then. That’s one way to earn a slice of pie, I guess.”

“And since then, I’ve been looking for an opportunity to ask an adventurer where I could get more of it.” Balthazar took another big chunk of pie into his mouth. “So, you’re a trader too? You sell these in town?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a trader,” she said. “I just bake my little things and then sell them for a few gold coins at my little market stand in the town square. It’s simple work, but I enjoy it.”

“Sounds like trading to me. And you work alone like me, too?”

“Yes, I do.” Her smile died down slightly, but not completely. “It used to be me and my mother. We had a much bigger market stall then, but sickness took her years ago, so now it’s just me and my pans.”

“Oh.” The crab stopped chewing, unsure how to handle the unfamiliar situation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, she always taught me not to let bad things get me down, and I’ve been doing that ever since,” the girl said, her smile slowly returning in full. “Me and my pans, staying busy every day, baking away!”

“Glad you enjoy what you do,” Balthazar said with an attempt at a smile, as he returned to his chewing, glad to have avoided an awkward moment.

“How did you learn to speak, anyway?” asked Madeleine.

Interrupting his chewing, Balthazar did his best not to choke on the piece of pie that had just gone down a little too fast. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the explanation of how he touched a mysterious glowing scroll taken from an adventurer who died right in front of him the previous morning.

“I, uh… just woke up like this one day.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Yep. One day I was just doing normal crab stuff, and the next I wake up and I was like this. Weird, I know, but what can ya do?”

“The gods sure work in mysterious ways,” the baker said, pensively.

“Sure do. Anyway, since then, and once I realized I needed to find more of this delicious pie, I began trading goods with passing adventurers in order to earn some coin. Which reminds me…”

Balthazar pulled out a coin purse and carefully opened it with the tips of his pincers. “How much for these?”

“Oh,” the girl said, “you really don’t have to. While I do sell my baking at the market in town most days, I can’t really bring myself to take the money of someone who went to such lengths just to taste something I baked. The whole reason I came here in the first place was because I couldn’t believe there was a talking crab asking for a pie baker, and I wanted to see it with my own eyes. Besides, you gave me an excuse to take a few hours off and come down to this beautiful pond and spend some time watching someone enjoy something I made more than I think I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

“Are you sure?” Balthazar insisted, “I really don’t want any rumors spreading around that I don’t pay for my stuff.”

“Yes, I’m sure. You can keep your money and this stays just between us. I don’t want anyone knowing I give out free pies either,” she said to him with a playful wink.

“Alright then, but just know that I’ll be wanting more of these, and next time I will be paying.”

“Yes, sir!” Madeleine said, while standing up and doing a mocking salute.

“In fact, once I have a large enough fortune, I would be very interested in paying you for the secrets of your craft.”

“The secrets of my craft?” she repeated at him, stifling her laughter. “They are just recipes. Here, if you want to get started, I’ll even lend you one of my recipe books.”

Pulling the satchel she was wearing across her torso to the front of her waist, Madeleine retrieved a thick book with a green checkered hard cover from within and offered it to the crab.

“I always carry one with me in case I get bored and want to do some reading. Don’t judge, reading cookbooks is my form of entertainment!”

Balthazar took the book into his pincers, feeling an unusual sense of humility.

“Are you sure? This must be of great value to you.”

“Don’t worry, I have piles of different recipe books back home,” she assured him with a frank smile. “Besides, this isn’t another freebie. I’m only lending you the book. You have to give it back when you’re done reading it. And you’d better take good care of it, if you get it wet I won’t be bringing you any more pie!”

“Thank you, Madeleine,” Balthazar said, with a smile.

“You’re welcome, sir crab. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got my own business to return to.”

“Of course. And remember, if you need anything from my wares, just say the word. I’ll even give you a friendly discount.”

“So we’re friends now, eh?” she said playfully. “Can’t say I ever befriended a crab before, but I’d be very happy to be your friend, Balthazar.”

“Same here, baker girl. I hope we will continue this friendship for a long and sweet time!”

As the pair crossed back to the edge of the pond, the girl stopped and looked at the assortment of items laid out on the rug.

“Hmm, you know, I do need a new wooden spoon.”

“Say no more!” Balthazar grabbed the wooden spoon that was displayed between a cracked ladle and a slightly rusty butter knife, and offered it to Madeleine. “Let’s consider this a trade for the two pies, shall we?”

“Fine with me,” she agreed, taking the spoon and putting it inside her basket.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Balthazar said.

“I will come back in a few days for the book and the plates, and I’ll be sure to bring you something else for your sweet tooth.”

Waving his claw at the girl as she walked back up the road, Balthazar felt a sense of satisfaction he wasn’t familiar with until then. The previous day had been chaotic and full of great changes to his routine, but today was like a great pay-off, with his business plans beginning to take shape and his search for the source of delicious pie bearing fruits, he found himself excited for the coming days, and to find out what they would bring.

[Items traded. Experience gained.]

[[Wooden Spoon] traded for [Apple Pie] + [Pumpkin Pie]]

[You have reached Level 5!]

The notification startled Balthazar as it appeared, but he found himself more interested in something else instead. He was still holding the book of recipes the baker had given him, and he was wondering if even he, a crab, would ever be able to make such magical creations as the pies she had brought him today. As he opened the book to a random page and began looking through it, eyes darting from one page to the next, a frown began to form in his expression.

“I can’t read any of this!”