Voting (2)

Having a personality that strictly adheres to rules and principles is not bad in the slightest.

If people did not value principles, why would laws exist in this world, and why would society function at all? It was only when someone took things to an extreme that people derided them as an inflexible old fogey, but the underlying logic was sound. Rather than being inherently bad, it was more along the lines of frustrating. It was the kind of disposition that felt compelled to scrutinize every minute detail of things that could have easily been overlooked.

People like that might run into friction in interpersonal relationships, but socially speaking, they posed no problem whatsoever. In fact, if such a personality was backed by diligence, the chances of achieving success were quite high. Naturally, that assumed one had the competence to match.

The reasoning from the main moderator, Don't Abandon the Hero, was the textbook definition of sound logic. No single individual could be given preferential treatment; if the restriction was going to be lifted, it had to be lifted for everyone. If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one truly desired such perks, they had to put on the armband and shoulder the responsibilities. And if they failed to fulfill those obligations, they should expect to be banned.

A bit harsh, isn't it?

It was not as though I could not understand where he was coming from, but I could not shake the lingering frustration. In the name of fairness, it felt like forcing a person with an injured leg to run a footrace against someone with two sound limbs. If I were not stranded in the Forest of the Four Seasons, I never would have made such a shameless request in the first place.

Every little bit counts when it comes to boosting my odds of survival.

The more trades I conducted, the more inconvenient the system felt. Between the twenty-four-hour cooldown and the ridiculously brief three-minute chat window that felt shorter than boiling instant curry, the restrictions were stifling. While instituted to prevent crime, the sheer annoyance was piling up. What was worse...

Since time immemorial, human nature had always harbored resentment toward anyone receiving special treatment. The moment I openly asked for what amounted to preferential privileges, a wave of indignation and mockery from the anonymous fluid nicks came crashing down.

Naturally, suppressing them took little effort. People who hadn't even bothered registering a fixed nickname had no standing to lecture anyone about trading. Meanwhile, those who did hold registered handles treated me with respect, having seen my verified proof from inside the Forest of the Four Seasons. Deep down, they probably harbored hopes of catching some scraps of benefit from me later. And in truth, if anyone proved genuinely helpful, I had every intention of rewarding them in kind.

The brainless anonymous users screaming blanket rejections were swiftly silenced, while the rest engaged in a surprisingly healthy debate.

I take that back. It was an all-out flame war drowning in curses and parental insults. They leaped straight from extreme hypotheticals right into relentless personal attacks. It felt as if a small stone I tossed had spiraled into a colossal meteor careening toward the earth.

Well, at the end of the day, a single word of intervention from the Heavenly Demon was enough to reduce everyone to meek lambs. In the face of a ban, all men were equal. In a world devoid of internet communities, the role played by the Gallery was immense. Seizing upon the momentary lull, I made my appeal to the head administrator once more.

How could these people forget something like that? I was slightly dumbfounded. But now that they had recalled it, the head moderator's resolve had to be wavering. This was my chance. I decided to push a little harder.

Calling it pushing harder was an overstatement; in truth, it was outright begging. Still, I could feel the head administrator steadily warming up to the idea.

Democracy? Was that the democracy I knew from Earth? Since the Gallery provided automatic translation, there was a high likelihood that the word matched my understanding. Yet, in an era where kings and aristocrats clearly held sway, hearing about democracy felt strangely out of place.

I had heard of this somewhere before: the reason democracy struggled to take root in fantasy worlds. On Earth, technology and firearms had at least provided tools to narrow the gap in raw individual might. In this world, however, things were different. The disparity in physical power was so staggering that the foundational premise of equality could never hold.

What on earth was Beastkin Democracy that made them cackle like that? At best, it probably meant limiting the right to vote to nobility or a specific subset of people.

What a bizarre world.

Well, even if I understood it, it wouldn't offer me any practical help. What I needed right now was the head administrator's blessing—the removal of the twenty-four-hour trade cooldown.

Soon enough, a comment from the head mod announced that the post was live. Because it was written directly by the head administrator, it was guaranteed to draw enormous attention. As long as the motion passed, the twenty-four-hour trade restriction would be lifted.

The post was concise and struck straight at the heart of the matter. With a prompt like that, there was nothing to worry about. The voting period was set for one full day, so all I had to do was attend to other chores in the meantime.

Before doing that, however, my curiosity about Beastkin Democracy got the better of me. What on earth was it that made everyone laugh so hard?

“……”

That didn't look like democracy; that looked like sheer, unadulterated imperialism. Don't tell me they forced democracy upon the apex predators through overwhelming demographic numbers alone? Looking at just one meme wasn't enough to fully grasp it, so I scrolled through other related posts.

Roughly translated, it seemed that when democracy was introduced, certain predatory tribes ended up getting thoroughly suppressed under the weight of sheer numbers. Still, everyone treated it as little more than a running meme depicting ancient history. Much like humans, beastkin had relatively short lifespans and rapid generational turnover, and in modern times, they were supposedly coexisting quite peacefully.

Not that it's anything I need to worry about right now anyway.

I pushed the thoughts of foreign democracy out of my head. The only thing that mattered to me was the vote currently underway on the Gallery forum. Praying that the poll would swing in my favor, I carefully reopened the thread created by the head administrator.

First things first, I need to cast my own vote.

Naturally, I voted In Favor.

“……?”

Even after casting my ballot, I couldn't see the interim results. That single sentence was all that appeared before the interface locked. I had assumed the results would be updated in real time as they usually were, but apparently, things worked differently here.

“……”