A Dangerous Movie Night
What arrived in the 1-on-1 chat room of the Demon Realm Gallery was a single photograph.
Emerald eyes. A woman with blue hair neatly tied into twintails. She had a completely blank, expressionless face that made it impossible to tell what she was thinking.
"She's clearly a girl!"
"No, I'm telling you, the sender is a member of the Machine Race! This is RD1234, the one who won first place in the contest!"
"...Huh?"
Reina tilted her head in confusion as well.
"T-The Machine Race I know doesn't look like this..."
"I know, right?"
Clunky lumps of scrap metal clattering and rolling around like tin cans. That was what people in this world called the 'Machine Race.'
Though some possessed sophisticated limbs, they rarely ventured outside their own territory, leaving them largely shrouded in mystery.
Of course, with the memories of my past life restored, I knew exactly what they were.
They're robots.
To me, a former modern Earthling, they looked like nothing other than the robots from sci-fi movies.
Considering the general standard of living, magic, and other fantasy races, they were completely out of place in this world.
Well, I'm sure they have their reasons.
Of course, I decided not to worry too much about it. It wasn't any of my business anyway.
I had simply recruited a sub-mod suitable for managing the gallery. I had absolutely no intention of conducting a racial census on the Machine Race, asking them things like, "What are the origins of your species?"
"But why did they send a photo like this?"
In other words, they had created an anime girl avatar to appeal to the gallery users.
In the short video clip they sent afterward, the 3D model even moved with fluid, lifelike grace.
This is literally just VR*hat.
A shiver ran down my spine as memories of that place from my past life resurfaced—a subculture nested in the deepest, darkest depths of the internet's underbelly.
"She definitely is cute."
"Right?"
"Yeah. If someone with this appearance asks the users a question, they'll probably answer anything."
"...True."
It was a universal truth of male-dominated online communities: they were always incredibly welcoming to any girl who posted a verification photo.
However...
"If they specialize too much in that direction, there will be side effects."
"Huh? What kind of side effects?"
"The birth of a Queen Bee."
In the male-dominated sites of my past life, there were always those who weaponized their gender to reign supreme and manipulate the community to their whim.
They were called 'Queen Bees.'
Once a horde of brainless simps gathered around them like cattle, forming a personal guard, the forum would devolve into a place far more dangerous and disgusting than any cliquey gallery.
Countless galleries had been utterly destroyed this way.
As a result, it became an unwritten rule for female users to never reveal their gender.
Even if the person in question didn't want it, there were plenty of cases where they were forcibly crowned as queens by the swarming simps.
"Revealing a photo like this to draw attention? If the follow-up management is sloppy, things could go south real fast."
We could end up with a chaotic Demon Realm Gallery, torn apart by a civil war between the simps flocking to the anime girl avatar and the regular users who despised them.
To be fair, the current state of the gallery wasn't exactly stable either.
After the Gonic 'HarpyQueen' accidentally posted a photo of herself, I had detected some highly suspicious movements from the local thirsty simps.
Fortunately, HarpyQueen drastically reduced her posting and commenting frequency afterward, causing the guys trying to hit on her to naturally disperse.
I also let the users play around with the Head Mod fanart within reasonable limits, only stepping in to execute idiots like Yurix who took it too seriously.
But if we dropped a light novel title like 'The Tin Can That Used to Talk Trash to Us Was Actually a Super-Cute Girl, and Now She's Appointed as the Third Sub-Mod?!' onto the gallery...
The fallout would be astronomical.
So, I gave RD1234 a thorough warning.
And I successfully secured their agreement.
"Alright, let's see how the users react first."
Would you like to appoint RD1234 as a Gallery Sub-Mod?
I pressed 'Yes' without hesitation.
Appointment complete.
Contrary to my fears...
The users' reactions were surprisingly lukewarm.
Perhaps it was because the Gonic 'RD1234' was usually so rigid and spoke in such a bizarre, robotic manner.
When an anime girl photo that completely clashed with his established image was posted, the entire gallery suffered a collective case of cognitive dissonance.
This is why you can't just use any random avatar.
If they had gone for a sharper, more expressionless, flat-chested, cool-beauty type of anime girl, maybe it would have fit better.
"We didn't really need to worry, then."
"Yeah."
Deep down, maybe I had actually been looking forward to the gallery descending into absolute chaos.
A tiny part of me felt a twinge of disappointment at missing out on the spectacle of a chaotic, ruined gallery and the sub-mods' desperate struggles to clean it up.
However...
"Oh?"
My attention was quickly drawn to an even more fascinating spectacle.
"My goodness..."
"Looks like we made the right choice, doesn't it?"
The moment RD1234 announced their appointment as a sub-mod, they immediately got to work.
Watching the mountain of reported posts melt away in an instant was such a bizarre sight that neither Reina nor I could close our mouths.
If a passing user grabbed me by the collar and asked, "Hey, Head Mod, which of your three blue slaves works the best?"
I was confident I could answer without a second's hesitation: "The newly imported scrap-metal slave is by far the best."
The processing speed RD1234 displayed was just that astronomical.
I sent the Ancient Demon God, who had been silently working hard lately, her usual chicken and cheese balls.
As a bonus, I threw in a generous helping of french fries and cola.
But then...
"Huh?"
RD1234's capabilities were far, far beyond my expectations.
I kept the gallery's moderation log open.
What was piling up there wasn't just the resolution of reported posts.
Gory images that had just been uploaded, posts trying to sow discord within the Demon Realm, spam posts from perverts who got off on flooding the board with useless junk...
They were single-handedly deleting every single piece of trash the moment it was posted in real-time.
"Wow..."
"Well, yeah."
Even if their avatar was a cute girl, their speech pattern was incredibly bizarre.
They constantly said things like, "You organic lifeforms are inferior," or "If you call me a tin can one more time, I will trace your IP and gift you a grand legacy of the Machine Race (a ballistic missile)."
Newcomers might be fooled, but there was no way the veteran users would fall for it.
"Hmm..."
A robot that wanted to understand humans. Wasn't that a classic trope from sci-fi movies?
"Ah, movies!"
Just in case, I browsed through the Point Shop's categories.
As expected, they were there.
When I purchased the Top 10 Sci-Fi Movies, a small USB drive in a compact case materialized.
"But to play this, they'd need a TV, or a computer with a monitor and speakers... Wait, actually, they probably don't need all that."
Since the recipient was a member of the Machine Race, as long as they had a USB port, they could probably play it directly.
So, I asked.
Item has been sent.
"Enjoy the show."
But at the time, I had no idea.
Just how massive of a crisis this would trigger.
Inside a massive underground bunker, tiny cleaning robots were sweeping away dust from every nook and cranny.
The Gonic RD1234 walked down the corridor, dodging the diligent workers.
Her glossy blue hair, neatly tied into twintails, swayed gently.
The sleek, white skin-tight suit she wore remained perfectly spotless.
Even as she walked, the logical circuits inside her head flashed continuously.
As the administrator of the Ark, tasked with guarding the legacy of the great ancestors...
RD1234 had been actively participating in the gallery to adapt to this changed era.
However, she had felt nothing but disillusionment toward the gallery, which served as a dumping ground for all kinds of base desires and malice.
The surface organics of this era were primitive, arrogant, and utterly worthless.
Even if the other dormant 'Cognitive Administrators' of the Ark were to awaken, they would have undoubtedly reached the same conclusion.
Thus, her thoughts had been leaning toward using the ancestors' legacy to directly end this world of meaningless, endless cycles of hatred before the 'Judgment' could arrive. But then...
A being known as the 'Head Mod' appeared in the gallery.
The Head Mod was like a courageous vaccine program infiltrating a host overrun by viruses.
The filthy gallery became clean, grew more active than ever, and even the ancient grudges of racial animosity, conflict, and wars of extermination began to slowly dissolve.
At first, she had wondered if he was a fellow Machine Race comrade stranded in a foreign land, but after a long period of observation, that probability plummeted.
In that case, he is either an organic... or perhaps, that Great One.
Regardless, he was a figure worthy of close monitoring, and RD1234 grew curious.
Can I find hope in him?
However, after observing him for a long time...
"Unpredictable. Too many variables."
Her processing power was utterly incapable of clearly calculating the potential of the being known as the Head Mod.
Sometimes, the calculations pointed to a mundane, shut-in loser.
Yet at other times, he was projected as the sole hope to save the world.
Her interest in him amplified exponentially.
RD1234 reduced the memory allocated to routine gallery data collection and dedicated more processing power to the Head Mod.
And finally, she seized her chance.
The '3rd Troll Reporting Contest'—which was advertised as a reporting contest but was clearly a recruitment drive for sub-mods.
I will become a sub-mod.
She resolved to become his closest aide, assisting him and conversing with him right by his side.
As planned, she successfully became a sub-mod.
She had asked how she could better understand organic lifeforms.
The Head Mod had readily agreed to help.
Since he didn't know much about the Machine Race either, he proposed that they use this opportunity to learn about each other.
Her calculations proved that his words were genuine, a response born of 100% goodwill.
"He is worthy of trust."
Pssssht! Clang!
RD1234 stepped into the control room.
"Is this the 'movie' sent by the Head Mod?"
Sitting in her seat, she attached the appropriate adapter and plugged in the USB.
The light faded from RD1234's external visual circuits.
Soon, she began to watch the movies with rapt attention.
RD1234 and the control room's main monitor synchronized, displaying the movie list in a long column.
Just as sub-mod RD1234 had said, managing the gallery became incredibly easy after that.
It was all thanks to them flawlessly handling everything they were supposed to do.
"Yaaawn..."
It was finally time to head to bed. I washed up, let out a massive yawn, and knocked on Reina's door.
"W-What is it? Could it be that tonight, you want to spend it with me... Ow!"
"Cut the nonsense. I need you to handle the graveyard shift tonight. The rookie is going to be a bit late because they're watching movies."
"Hmph, fine."
"I'll disable the Exchange feature starting tomorrow, so you can take charge of that. Well, I'm going to sleep first."
I was finally able to get a good night's sleep for the first time in a long while.
And the next day...
"H-Head Mod!"
"Mmm... *yawn*... What is it...?"
"It's a disaster! A disaster! Hurry up, wake up and pack your bags!"
As I hesitated,
Reina whipped the gallery window around and shoved it right in front of my face.
And about five seconds later...
"Huh?"
I experienced the rare sensation of having all sleepiness instantly blasted away by sheer shock the moment I woke up.