11AM February 29th, 1588 - Besançon, Kingdom of France By itself, this information may not seem important. However, beans have been documented to be able to survive inside the body of a human host, referred to as Bean infection. Infected individuals have been shown to be minimally influenced by the beans inside of their bodies. Though the extent of this influence is currently unknown, I believe members of the Church of the Beanmeister are victims of Bean infection.

Schmidt stared at the beans in Kaplan’s blood.

“You see them too?” Marvin asked.

“Yeah,” Schmidt replied. “This is bad. Very, very bad.”

The beans wriggled among the bits of Kaplan’s brain, forming small ripples in the puddle of blood. Marvin grabbed one, blood running down his fingers as he inspected it. “Was Kaplan infected?”

“I… don’t think so. I didn’t see a bean growth on him. He would’ve reported it if he had any, right? Bösch was clear that anyone who had a growth was to be sent to Stuttgart and quarantined.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why would he have beans inside of him if he didn’t have a growth?”

“It’s not impossible that he had a growth but didn’t report it...”

“I don’t think he would’ve done that. Kaplan respected authority. He would’ve reported something as important as that.”

“He might’ve wanted to stay on duty instead of being admitted to a military hospital. He’s been acting weird recently, maybe he got more assertive because he wanted to… I don’t know… earn some respect before he died? Or maybe he was trying to contribute to the cause before—”

“What the hell are ya two doin’?” Rolf yelled as he reentered the tavern. “Stop pokin’ his corpse ya freaks! We need to find a way out of getting hanged, not standin’ around touchin’ his brains!”

“Close the door, Rolf,” Marvin said, standing up.

"What do ya mean, close the door? We have to get rid of the body, or come up with an explanation for all of this. Maybe we could hide him... We can say he ran off because he was scared to fight the Beans! But we’d still need to get rid of the blood... Hell, someone probably already heard the gunshot! It’s the middle of the day and everyone is just down the street. Oh my God...”

“Close the door,” Marvin repeated.

Rolf looked between Schmidt and Marvin, then sighed, closing the door. “We’re definitely gettin’ hanged.”

“Rob, Gregory, are you listening? This is important,” Schmidt said. Rob nodded his head, while Greg continued to hyperventilate on the floor. “There were beans inside Kaplan.”

Rolf stopped walking towards Kaplan’s corpse. “What?”

“Kaplan was infected by the beans,” Marvin repeated.

“That can’t be true. How would he’ve even gotten sick? He hasn’t come within five kilometers of a Bean.”

“I don’t know, but there’s no denying it.”

“Where was his growth?”

“We don’t think he had one.”

“You have to have a growth to be sick, don’t ya? Ya must have missed it.”

“We… haven’t checked for a growth, but there were beans in his head. He had to have been sick.”

Rolf searched Kaplan’s corpse. Kaplan was lying on his right side, the bullet wound just behind his left temple. His eyes stared blankly ahead. “If he doesn’t have a growth, then he wasn’t sick. The beans could’ve come from anywhere. Just because they were in his blood doesn’t mean they were inside his head.”

“They were inside his head,” Schmidt said. “There weren’t any beans in here when Kaplan was—”

“Ya don’t know that!” Rolf shouted. “Ya don’t get it, do ya? If there were beans in here before he died and he doesn’t have a growth, then that means we can pin the blame on the Beans!”

“That’s insane,” Marvin said.

“We’re not dead yet! We can say… there was a Bean in here, and we tried to kill it, but Kaplan got in the way and died because of it. Then the Bean ran away and we went to warn the other soldiers, leaving Kaplan behind. It’s perfect!” They watched as Rolf desperately checked Kaplan for a growth. He found none on his arms, legs, or head. Rolf rolled the corpse onto its back as he checked its chest. When he found no growths, he flipped the corpse over to check its back. Again, he found nothing, and fell onto his hands and knees. “There’s nothing!” He shouted, his arms and legs stained red. “That means the beans aren’t from him!”

“Rolf,” Marvin whispered. “Kaplan was infected by the beans. You can’t deny that. There wasn’t a Bean in here, either. The beans came from inside Kaplan’s skull. We are the only people who know that Kaplan was sick. If Kaplan knew, he would have reported it, we’re sure of it. If Bösch or any of his superiors knew, they would have quarantined him. If any of his soldiers knew, they would have reported him. No one, except maybe Kaplan, knew that he was sick. But if no one, not even Kaplan, knew he was infected… that means it’s possible for other people in the Army to be infected, too. If we keep assuming that only people with growths are infected, the numbers we have right now may be lower than what they actually are.”

Rolf crawled away from Kaplan’s corpse. He sat down, staring at his bloody hands. “No, there’s no way. He wasn’t infected.”

“He was,” Schmidt said. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but Kaplan was infected.”

The tavern was silent.

“What the hell do we do now?” Rolf asked, the confidence that usually filled his voice gone.

“We have to tell someone,” Schmidt said.

“But who can we trust?” Marvin asked. “If we can’t tell who’s infected, then we can’t trust anyone, right?”

“Are we assuming Kaplan’s change in personality was because of the beans? That’s the only reason I can think of for him changing so much so quickly.”

“It’s the best theory we have right now,” Marvin replied.

Schmidt sighed. “Well… I’ve known Bösch for years. He’s still the same as he’s always been. I’ll be able to tell if he was infected by the beans. Stuttgart’s the closest major city, anyway, so it makes sense for us to go there.”

Rolf eyed Schmidt. “But how do we know ya’re not infected by the beans?”

He was right, if they couldn’t tell who was infected, how could they trust Schmidt’s assessment of Bösch?

After a moment of tense silence, Rob stood up. He was shaking violently. “Come on, guys, d-don’t do this. All we can do right now is trust each other.” Rolf opened his mouth to reply, but Rob cut him off. “Dude, I j-just spent the past few minutes checking myself for bullet holes and having an e-e-existential crisis. I think I pissed my pants a little, too. Honestly, I’m just happy to n-not be dead right now… I’m not gonna let my f-friends doubt each other because of something as dumb as the B-B-Beans. If we’re going by changes in personality, I know B-Barry’s the same as he’s always been. We can t-trust him. Same with Marvin, he’s not beaned either. I don’t know too much about you, Rolf, but you still seem like the same dumbass you’ve always been, so I don’t think you’ve been beaned, either.” Rob furrowed his brow, looking around the room. His eyes fell on Greg, who was still sitting on the floor hyperventilating. Rob walked over to him, placing an arm around his shoulder. “Woah, h-hey, Gregory…” Rob rubbed his hand gently on Greg’s back. “Hey, you’re alright, Gregory. You’re alright.”

“I… I killed him.” Greg put his head in his hands and began to sob.

Rob was silent.