The Moderator Draft (3)
Thanks to all that, I found myself glad I'd kept my mouth shut and stayed quiet instead of saying anything unnecessary.
Anyway, once the second-ranked player finished her introduction, the last remaining man rose cleanly from his seat and began his own.
"Pleasure to meet you all. Since this is the first time any of us are meeting face-to-face here, proper introductions are in order."
"Hm?"
"My nickname is Antares. Currently ranked first, and clan leader of Humanity."
"Oh…"
"Ah, so you're the newly risen rank-one."
As for the man who'd stood up — his appearance was the sort that practically walked straight out of a romance fantasy novel. A cascade of golden hair falling past his waist left a strong impression, and overall he was handsome enough… but there was something about him.
He smiled brightly, came across as perfectly friendly, and the moment his introduction was done he slipped into easy conversation with the other rankers — the very picture of a social butterfly. And yet, somehow, he gave off the unmistakable vibe of a shadowy mastermind who would one day cause a catastrophic disaster.
He looks seriously untrustworthy.
Of course, that was nothing more than a personal gut feeling for now, so I kept it to myself.
At any rate, once our round of introductions wrapped up and we were just about to hit the "so what now?" stage of things—
"Has everyone finished talking, Rankers?"
"Oh."
"This is…?"
A voice that felt almost identical to Oxianor's telepathy rang out, and from the center of the space we occupied, a humanoid figure emerged amid a dazzling mass of light.
Though calling it humanoid was really just a guess on my part. The part that seemed to be a head shone so brilliantly that making out the figure's actual features was impossible.
Judging by the reactions around me, everyone else was having the same problem. Glancing about, I saw people shielding their eyes with their hands or squeezing them shut, all of them looking thoroughly irritated.
"Ah. It seems I didn't adjust the luminosity enough."
The one silver lining was that, for all the figure's transcendent-being vibes and otherworldly appearance, it noticed us suffering under the excess light and kindly dialed down the radiance pouring from its head.
That said…
"There. This should be manageable enough for conversation."
"…"
Even with the glowing head aside, the body and limbs shimmered with some unidentifiable coloration that evoked the hues of deep space — or something out of the void itself. Knowing the figure was an Operator didn't stop a wave of pure confusion from flooding every gaze in the room.
That moment of bewilderment didn't last long, though.
"The reason I've summoned you all is, as I'm sure you're already aware… to appoint you as administrators of the community, per the original announcement."
The moment those words left the Operator's mouth, a peculiar seriousness settled into everyone's eyes.
The Moderator Draft (3)
Just as expected, the Operator laid it out. Of the ten people gathered, a few nodded along with expressions that said finally, here it is. The rest looked burdened from the get-go, and a couple even raised their hands to ask questions.
"You're seriously going to hand that over to players? You think that makes any sense?"
"They're right. You pick admins by ranking, then what happens when someone drops out of the top ten?"
Faced with those perfectly reasonable questions, the Operator with the glittering head gave what seemed to be a nod.
"Those are entirely fair questions, so allow me to answer. Should you fall out of the rankings, you will be automatically stripped of your community administrator position."
"Stripped?"
"So the newly ranked player takes the admin seat instead?"
"Precisely."
Fortunately for us, for all the Operator's slightly airheaded presentation, it answered every question we threw at it in careful detail. The gathered players silently awarded it a solid five-star satisfaction rating and pressed on with more questions.
"Okay, but why bother dragging us all the way here just to tell us that?"
"Yeah, seriously. Wouldn't it have been better to just send us an explanation and have us accept?"
The Operator's smooth, easygoing manner only emboldened the more pointed questions — but in response, it simply shrugged its shoulders and arms.
"Well, then the so-called 'cool factor' you Commanders are so fond of wouldn't come across, would it?"
"…What… did you just say?"
"Wh-wh-what."
"And since you'll all be serving as fellow armband-wearers managing the community going forward… wouldn't it be good to at least put faces to names?"
It delivered that line with complete confidence. Betelgeuse and Menaldo, who'd asked the questions, along with every ranker watching — even the ones who'd been nodding from the start — all wore expressions of momentary bafflement.
Betelgeuse, at least, managed to keep her grip on reality. She clutched her forehead as if it were throbbing, twisted her face into a grimace, and spoke again.
"…You can put faces to names over a comms screen."
"We thought so too at first. Unfortunately, some rankers are rather uncomfortable revealing information including their 'faces'… or simply have no interest in doing so, you see?"
The Operator's gaze seemed, somehow, to settle on me as it said that. I kept my silence and stared off at a distant mountain that wasn't there.
Separately, watching these Operators casually kidnap people just so everyone could "get acquainted," combined with their general air of bumbling incompetence, I found myself freshly understanding why this game had been such a dumpster fire — and why I'd rage-quit three years ago.
At any rate, after about five minutes of miscellaneous back-and-forth, the glowing-headed Operator finally launched into a proper explanation.
"First, regarding the administrative privileges of community managers — you will not be granted an especially large number of them."
"Not a large number — so roughly how much are we talking?"
"The ability to delete posts on the community — that is, the gallery and the trading post — to block a user's access to the community… and finally, the right to lift such blocks. That would be the extent of it."
Those were fairly standard privileges, and most of the rankers, myself included, nodded in understanding. But Arcadia, who had been speaking with careful formality throughout, quietly raised her hand.
"When you say blocking a user — what exactly does that entail?"
"Primarily nickname-based blocking. Is there a problem?"
"If that's the method, then changing your gallery nickname gets around it completely, doesn't it? There are quite a lot of people who use the so-called 'guest-account multiplication technique,' after all."
As she said it, Arcadia casually slid her gaze toward Betelgeuse. The recipient of that look merely shrugged, as if to say she had no idea what anyone was talking about.
Regardless, the Operator seemed to ponder for a moment, the light of its head flickering in thought. Then the glow returned to normal, and it offered us a brief explanation.
"After discussion among the operations staff regarding blocking privileges, the method will in fact allow blocking of the IP address assigned to the community itself."
"Oh?"
"The maximum block duration is fifteen days. Anything shorter is left to the administrator's discretion."
"I see."
"If it's an IP block, then… that should be fine."
"Only fifteen days is a bit disappointing, but it's better than nothing."
Beyond that, the Operator walked us through a pile of minor details. Before long, the questions dried up and the room ran out of things to ask. The Operator then raised what appeared to be its hands and clapped them together, drawing every ranker's attention — including mine.
"Well then. Since it seems you've all finished with your questions, I shall now convey the precautions regarding your community management."
"Precautions?"
"Like management standards, or something?"
"That gallery had management standards?"
The rankers immediately began murmuring among themselves. The Operator, undeterred, pressed on with what it had to say.
But the content of those words was, from our perspective, utterly absurd.
"These are merely precautions, but — whatever you choose to do in the gallery, the operations staff has no intention of concerning ourselves with it."
"…?"
"Huh?"
"What?"
"???"
"Ah, of course, going completely insane while relying solely on your authority as administrators will never be tolerated."
"If you get caught doing something like that… well, you can figure out the rest for yourselves."
Hearing that, I finally broke the silence I'd been keeping all this time—