Mr Crabs Novels & Stories

Charts and graphs glowed red across the massive screens, stock prices plummeting in real-time. “We’ve lost another major investor!” one director barked, slamming a hand on the table. “Five this week alone. At this rate, we won’t last another month.” Another snapped, “Where’s the strategy? What’s the plan? We can’t keep bleeding like this!” The room turned as one towards Ethan Richard, seated at the head of the table. He looked every inch the CEO—smart suit, gold cufflinks, hair perfectly styled—but his eyes betrayed him. They were hollow, dark, rimmed with exhaustion.

Before the apocalypse, river crabs were human food, but after the apocalypse, they had become a tyrannical presence and a disaster. Individual mechanical crabs could measure one to one and a half meters in length, with claws reaching two meters. Moreover, they were numerous. Although they were not as plentiful as rats, a decent-sized breeding farm could contain thousands of crabs. What would happen if all those crabs turned into mechanical creatures? The villagers and the other mechanical creatures would surely fall prey to these crabs, and the absence of mechanical creatures in the river was undoubtedly their doing too. Victor didn't attack immediately, but those big crabs didn't show him a

Recognition flickered—nothing personal, just the name of the powerful new shareholder. “Miss Ross,” he said, extending a hand with polished charm as I joined him on the dais. “The woman everyone’s been talking about. Your thirty-five percent makes you more than a guest tonight—you’re family now.” The room quieted, expectant. Cameras trained on us. I took the microphone offered, my voice clear and warm, carrying through the grand space.