The Head Mod, Destroyer of the Demon Realm's Economy (1)

The Ancient Demon God quickly checked the gallery moderation logs. The posts that RD1234 had quickly deleted were requests to contact the Head Mod. This was a category of posts that the Head Mod had directly instructed them to simply delete.

He had said that if they did so, the posters would repeat it a few times, fail to get any attention, and eventually leave on their own.

But this opponent did not give up easily.

"Over twenty posts have already been deleted, dost thou see? And they are all from the same person."

The username was 'MinisterOfFinance'.

He brought up why his posts were being deleted, who was in charge of the Gallery Shop, and directly stated, "I want to speak with the Head Mod."

And RD1234 swept them all away as soon as they were posted.

This was thanks to him diligently following the advice of his senior sub-mod: "If it's hard to judge on your own, delete it first and leave it to me."

"Is this what they call a 'battle of nerves' or some such?"

Post, delete, post, delete. The two of them were repeating this infinitely.

Thus, she checked to see if he was truly aggrieved.

"Hmm, he claims to be the Demon Realm's Minister of Finance and demands that the Head Mod pay taxes equivalent to the profits earned through the Gallery Shop? Good heavens, he is nothing but a raving lunatic, I say."

Taxes on merchants were usually levied when passing through the city gates or occupying stalls in the market streets. No one had the right to collect taxes from the Head Mod, who sold goods through the Gallery.

"Suspicious, most suspicious."

So she sent this to her junior sub-mod, 'Only Looking At You', to check what emotions the opponent harbored.

This entire process took less than ten minutes.

"Thou art banned!"

The Fixed Nick 'MinisterOfFinance' was banned under the judgment of the Ancient Demon God.

And at that moment, in Kronendike.

"W-What???"

"Y-Your Excellency? What is the matter?"

"These impudent scoundrels!!!!!"

The Minister of Finance flailed his golden hands wildly in the air.

"It seems the report was true. Accelerate the investigation! They are far more meticulous and dangerous than I thought!"

"Yes, sir!"

That day, the Demon Realm's Ministry of Finance was turned upside down.

The Ministry of Finance, where those as smart and calculating as mages gathered.

The employees, who practically lived on overtime, muttered that they wouldn't be going home today either as they picked up their papers and quills.

Head Mod, how dare you try to ruin the Demon Realm's wartime economy.

The Head Mod, who was swallowing up a massive amount of wealth using the Gallery Shop.

The Minister of Finance firmly resolved to stop his insidious plans.

Thirty minutes prior.

The Ministry of Finance, responsible for the Demon Realm's budget.

Gozbo, the Minister of Finance and head of the department, was not a trash boss who only dumped work on his subordinates.

He, too, stayed overnight, reviewing ledgers and tracking the flow of funds.

He cross-referenced the ledgers copied and sent by the Merchant Coalition, the data compiled separately by the Ministry of Finance, and even verified information obtained privately through trustworthy nobles.

And all this evidence pointed to one place.

"The Gallery Shop."

It was no exaggeration to say the Gallery Shop was scraping up the wealth of the Demon Realm.

From beggars who could barely feed themselves to the high nobles of the Demon Realm, the user base was incredibly diverse.

Moreover, while there might be people who had never used the Gallery Shop, there was no one who had used it only once.

A sigh escaped him as he grasped the reality of the Gallery Shop, which sold high-quality goods at ridiculously low prices.

"This makes no sense."

Minister of Finance Gozbo shuddered as he examined a sausage bread.

Thinking rationally, a product of this quality should never be sold for a single copper coin.

"Selling something that would easily sell for a silver coin for a mere copper... of course all the capital is flowing into the Gallery Shop."

Gozbo's race was a Goblin.

Specifically, he belonged to the sub-species of Golden Goblins, who were highly skilled in calculation and deeply obsessed with wealth.

He had worked in the Ministry of Finance since the reign of the previous Demon King, and having fought directly on the battlefield in between, he had transcended the level of an ordinary goblin to reach the realm of a Goblin King.

His lifespan and overall stats had grown to a level that few could match, save for the leaders of certain races.

Yet, even with his brilliant mind, he could not fathom the Head Mod's true intentions.

Was it truly an attempt to destroy the foundation of the wartime economy, as the Merchant Coalition and some nobles claimed?

Or was he simply performing acts of charity?

If he is evil, it must be the former. If he is a wealthy madman, it could be the latter.

Of course, both seemed highly unrealistic.

To make the most accurate judgment, Gozbo logged into the Gallery.

It has been a long time.

Back when the previous Demon King was the Head Mod, he had served as a sub-mod of the Demon Race Gallery.

Remembering his successful past when they shouted such slogans brought a lump to his throat.

But the Gallery was vastly different from the days he remembered.

"My word, it really has changed a lot since the old days."

Many functions he had never seen before had been added, and the terminology and tone of the users had shifted from a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rigid military style to a free-spirited, profanity-laden one.

"Ah!"

Gozbo, who had been browsing the Gallery without realizing it, remembered his purpose and wrote a post.

"What is this..."

Impudent punks came to leave mocking comments, and the Head Mod he asked for didn't even show up.

Moreover.

"Huh?!"

Suddenly, the post he had written was deleted.

"An error?"

He wrote it again, but.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The Gallery Manager—the sub-mod—kept chopping down his posts.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Even his posts asking why were deleted without a single reply.

Now, a post clearly written to mock and roast him was getting countless upvotes.

"T-This...!!!"

"Your Excellency? Are you alright?"

Exercising patience, he wrote one more post appealing to their sense of fairness, stating he had only come to find the Head Mod.

It was deleted again.

And then.

When the message stating he could not access the Gallery at all popped up, Gozbo lost his mind and roared in his office.

"W-What???"

"Y-Your Excellency? What is the matter?"

"These impudent scoundrels!!!!!"

Thus, Gozbo mobilized all his subordinates and declared war on the Head Mod.

And.

Tsk, I didn't want to use this method.

He pulled a crystal ball from his drawer and activated it. A startled young Golden Goblin appeared inside the sphere.

"U-Uncle? What is the matter?"

"Greeve. How have you been?"

"Yes, I'm fine... Do you need something?"

"You rascal, do you think of me as some shameless uncle who only contacts his nephew when he needs a favor?"

The Golden Goblin named Greeve scratched the back of his head with a face that said, Aren't you...?

"Didn't you say you got something to eat from the Gallery last time?"

"Huh? Ah, yes. I didn't get it for free, I won an auction and paid for it. Did you want some chicken too, Uncle?"

"No, that's not it."

Gozbo said, his eyes narrowing sharply.

"Could you perhaps connect me with this 'Head Mod' person? It is urgent state business, but I cannot get in touch with them at all."

"...Huh?"

Only then did Greeve realize that something major had happened.

I took care of the nocturnal races as well, and just in case, I released 500 more lamps. The reaction was absolutely explosive. My reputation was once again upgraded from "Juballom" to "Great Head Mod".

And then.

"Head Mod!"

"What?"

"The sleep masks and blackout curtains you put up are all sold out. The extra lamps sold out in an instant too."

"Good."

Since quite a few lamps were sold, wouldn't the Gallery activity during the evening and dawn hours increase quite a bit from now on? I had also released plenty of blackout curtains, sleep masks, and earplugs so the nocturnal races could sleep soundly during the day. I only hoped they would sleep well, wake up in the evening, and browse the Gallery even harder.

There seemed to be a few strange posts in the middle...

Anyway, it was a relief that posts saying they were generally satisfied were flooding in.

But just then, a 1:1 chat message popped up.

"Who was this again? It's a familiar Fixed Nick... Ah!"

It was the user who had posted a proof shot of winning the chicken auction and eating it deliciously. Just like his username, he was one of the famous Fixed Nicks known for having a ton of money.

"He got banned?"

It wasn't me, at least.

"Did you guys ban a troll just now?"

"No? I was barely looking because I was monitoring the Exchange. Ah, by the way, Head Mod..."

"Hold on, later. This seems urgent."