I Became the Gallery's Judak (3)

"What's with that face first thing in the morning?"

"..I saw something horrific before breakfast."

The mistake had been clicking into a post calling for the administrator without a shred of suspicion. He'd been visually assaulted by photographs of a goblin being raped and a barrage of shit pics, and even he couldn't help but feel the room spin.

"Tch. Drink some cold water and get yourself ready. The patients who couldn't come yesterday will all pile in, so we'll have a decent crowd today."

"..Alright."

"Well, even so, there won't be any emergencies. The orcs have been dealt with, and it's not like anyone's breaking ground on a major construction project."

Every time someone says that, an emergency patient shows up.

He kept the thought to himself. It was nothing more than a jinx, after all.

Margaret was not wrong. Patients did pile in, just as she'd predicted, but none of them were urgent — as if his worries had been wasted breath.

Well. Even jinxes miss sometimes.

Most of the people who came in needed nothing more than a prescription or a cleaned wound. He used Heal now and then, but only on young children whose immune systems were still fragile.

"Hold on, Priest. You treated that kid, so why am I only getting a prescription?"

Of course, the occasional difficult customer still tried to force the issue. A clean, decisive response was usually enough to bring them around.

"If that bothers you, you're free to leave."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far..."

"Then kindly take your prescription and be on your way."

"..Yes, Priest."

The warning — or rather, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the courteous response — sent the man on his way with his medicine, as meek as if he'd never caused a scene at all. Plawi did worry, briefly, that the language had been a touch strong for a priest.

"Guess that's a wandering priest for you. You've got a rough edge."

Margaret, however, looked thoroughly pleased.

"Keep doing that. You smile and play nice and they think they can get away with it. Then they just drag everything out."

"Alright."

Whether that single hard line had done the trick or not, the number of patients demanding miracles for no good reason dropped off sharply after that. The unexpected lull gave him just enough time to open the gallery.

He glanced around, then clicked in secret.

So this is a kobold.

He quietly saved the kobold (not) nudes. Once they were safely stored, he took a slower look at the state of the gallery.

It was better than yesterday, when the place had been swallowed whole by the terror of an impending shutdown — but "a complete mess" was still the phrase that fit. Spam and shitstirring were as rampant as ever, and the moment he looked away, a fresh wave of brain-meltingly vile photographs came flooding in without pause.

Come to think of it, I did say I'd leave the moderating to the Padaks.

The gallery being this much of a disaster was, in all likelihood, because it still had no sub-administrators at all.

I'll have to appoint some Padaks to handle the moderating.

From what he'd gathered, a Padak was a kind of staff member appointed by the Judak. And paying wages to hire staff was, as far as he was concerned, simple common sense.

The problem was that he was neither flush with money nor in possession of any method for paying anyone.

It'd be nice if they'd work for free, but there's no way anyone that unhinged actually exists.

The previous Padaks would have coughed blood if they'd heard him say that. He was turning over whether he had anything suitable to offer when something caught his eye.

A menu only visible to the administrator?

He studied it, then pressed in to take a look.

Gallery Settings was exactly what it sounded like: a dedicated page for tinkering with the gallery itself. He scrolled through the options one by one, and near the bottom he found a function that made him pause.

With this, I could offer perks instead of wages.

Which only made him wonder why the previous Judak had never used something so useful. The reason presented itself almost immediately.

So the functions you can activate depend on the user's mana?

It seemed the type of mana determined which functions would come online. Which raised another question: had the previous Judak been unable to use anything at all?

He checked the remaining records. That wasn't the case. The previous Judak had activated a handful of functions of his own. The one that stood out most was IP tracking — a tool for pinpointing the location of every user in the gallery.

Maybe it's for the best that he's dead.

He thought it privately and meant it. He knew perfectly well that impersonating a priest was a problem, and the fewer people who knew his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠real identity — even fellow transmigrators — the better.

A lingering unease settled over him, but the man was already dead. He shook it off and sorted out the functions he could actually turn on.

Just two, for now?

I have no idea what my mana has to do with Item Transfer, but if I handle this right, it should make a decent enough reward.

He wrote the gallery post immediately afterward.

The response was explosive.

There were people applying, yes — but no small number of users also warned that handing out titles like this would wreck the gallery's management.

So what, I'm supposed to force people to do the work? I don't understand.

But similar comments kept stacking up after that, and he began to wonder if he really was that ignorant. He asked for opinions.

..They're definitely messing with me.

They'd clearly all gotten together to haze him for being a newbie. He ignored the replies and checked only the applications.

The three who applied the fastest should do.

Applying that quickly meant they were in the gallery constantly. Aptitude aside, they'd have more than enough time to moderate.

The problem arrived the instant the Padaks were appointed.

"Priest Plawi! Priest Margaret! Emergency patients!"

See? It wasn't a pointless jinx after all.

The jinx he'd thought had missed this time finally landed, and urgent patients came flooding in like a tide. He closed the gallery at once and stood. For a moment he remembered he hadn't said a word about the newly added function — but there was no time to linger.

Strangely enough, the reaction to the new Padaks cooled off fast. Every last scrap of attention had been stolen by something else entirely.

Namely, the newly added function.

At first, of course, nobody believed it existed.

But once testimony started stacking up from people who'd found the same function, the mood flipped completely. Users checked for themselves, half-doubting, and in the end everyone found it and had no choice but to admit it was real.

Finding the function and being able to use it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were two different things, though, so a fair amount of trial and error was inevitable.

A few minor casualties cropped up along the way, but once they finally figured out how it worked, the gallery caught fire.

It was a function that did nothing more than send objects from one person to another — but the ways it could be used were endless.

Parcel delivery and trade were the obvious examples, and more than a few users who'd been hurting for money for a long time seized on the new function as an opportunity.

The disappointing part was that it wasn't exactly free.

Joy and regret were crossing paths in every direction. And that was when the Padak fire everyone thought had gone out flared back to life.