Lady Yulian

"Haa…."

Roughly thirty minutes had passed since I'd received that utterly shameless photograph from the empire's one and only highborn ducal lady — a picture so indecent I barely knew where to look.

I sat there watching Lady Yulian's murderously persistent comments roll in — all traces of refined speech abandoned — and finally let out a sigh, sinking into thought.

Should I really hand her an armband like this?

To be fair, Lady Yulian had met every condition I'd set for opening the gallery. And judging by her usual activity levels, putting her in charge of the Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery wouldn't be a problem on paper. The reason I was still hesitating, though, came down to one thing: her station.

Leaving management to the ruling class is… kind of the whole problem…

The Agneil Ducal family was the Magnia Empire's sole ducal house, wielding power that rivaled even the Imperial Family. And Lady Yulian was that house's eldest daughter and heir apparent. Naturally, she belonged to the exact same class of gallery overlords I despised and kept at arm's length.

Shame, but I'll have to find someone else.

So, with a twinge of guilt toward the lady who'd gone so far as to send that scandalous photo, I was about to turn her down — when she escalated.

Mid-threat, Lady Yulian suddenly used the image attachment feature and sent a single photograph.

What the picture showed was the lady's slender legs, perched precariously on the windowsill of a high tower.

Judging by the situation, she genuinely meant to jump if she didn't get that armband.

Startled enough to flinch, I found myself equally unable to suppress my curiosity, and left the question in a comment.

That was the loaded answer that came back from Lady Yulian.

"Ahh."

Reading it, I searched the gallery for her name — and only then understood why she'd been so desperate for the armband of the Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery.

Lady Yulian was the former head moderator — the Orange Armband — of the Noble Ladies Gallery, impeached and cast out.

Piecing together everything said about her on the Gossip Gallery, it seemed the public regarded her as the worst villainess of her generation.

"Hmm…."

Having confirmed every last detail, I quietly curled the corner of my mouth and nodded.

That changes everything.

A former armband, impeached from the official galleries, crawling into the Gossip Gallery and becoming an armband there — that was practically an annual tradition of the Gossip Gallery. And if that person also happened to be burning with a thirst for revenge? Calling her the ideal recruit for the dark side of the Gossip Gallery wouldn't be an overstatement.

No reason to drag this out any longer.

You walked right into this one.

It was time to take the empire's one and only ducal lady — its worst villainess — and make her my slave, just the way she wanted.

"Ha."

The Agneil Ducal Estate. At the very top floor of the highest tower of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the detached villa standing behind the grand mansion.

"…I was wrong after all."

Perched weakly on the windowsill of that topmost floor, Lady Yulian finally let her head drop when the answer she wanted never came.

A pathetic end, fitting for the worst of villainesses.

That morning, she had been confined to the detached villa as punishment for her dismissal as head moderator of the Noble Ladies Gallery. The room held only a single dress she cherished and one elegant tea party table; no one came to visit anymore. The only way out was to submit to the elders' marriage bargains. For a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lady of Yulian's pride, death was the preferable option.

Well… I don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠particularly regret anything…

In truth, she felt little regret. To climb this high, she had lived her entire life exactly like a villainess. She'd always assumed that if she died, hell was the natural destination. Even being ruined by a baseless false charge, she had accepted calmly as karmic retribution.

I should've just eaten a mountain of sweet, delicious snacks…

But when it came time to actually die, even a woman as notoriously fierce as she couldn't stop the tears from gathering at the corners of her eyes. The cakes she'd rarely allowed herself while striving to be the perfect lady flickered before her vision. Still — it was time to set those lingering attachments aside. With even her final gambit, dignity and shame abandoned, having ended in failure, she no longer had a reason to live.

Just as Lady Yulian steeled her heart and gritted her teeth, ready to lean forward off the ledge —

"Huh?"

— an unbelievable message appeared before her eyes.

Reading the message over and over with a blank, dumbfounded expression, the lady's eyes went round — and she scrambled down from the windowsill in a flash.

"……!"

With trembling hands she hurriedly pulled on her dress, then urgently accepted the manager privileges.

"Haa…."

For a moment Lady Yulian sat on the cold stone floor, letting out a long breath. Then, with the faintest lift of her lips, she typed a comment to the one who had saved her.

What a precious little thing.

At that ice-cold reply, Lady Yulian's brow twitched.

"What an insolent creature."

Would this unknown person dare say such things if she were standing right in front of him? She pouted at the thought for a moment — then her expression hardened slightly at the comments that followed.

A brief silence stretched.

"……."

In that silence, the rims of Lady Yulian's eyes turned faintly red. How long had it been since anyone had shown her even this much kindness? It might have been nothing more than a perfunctory platitude. But to a woman who had lived under nothing but cold stares — both before her fall and after — it was something precious beyond measure.

I have no way of knowing who he is or where he lives…

Keeping her head bowed in silence for a long while, she wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve and murmured inwardly.

…I'd like to meet him, just once.

For the first time in her life, she felt a genuine fondness for someone.

"Huh?"

But that fondness did not last long.

Barely a minute later, the very person she'd developed a fondness for had deliberately posted that notice on the Empire Village Gossip Gallery.

"Euk…!"

Lady Yulian's face went scarlet in an instant as she frantically typed a reply.

But it was already far too late.

Having become the manager of the Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery, Lady Yulian was now locked into a permanent username. And in that moment, the nickname that would follow her for the rest of her life was decided: the Naked Armband Slave.

"I WILL FIND YOU AND KILL YOUUUUU!!!!!"

After the nude verification incident that had set the Gossip Gallery ablaze for a while, the newly emerged Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery began operating in earnest under the venom-soaked notice of "Noble Ladies Gallery Eraser."

And of course, thanks to users who'd been nursing long-held grudges, the Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery racked up overwhelming post volume and proudly entered the real-time trending galleries.

Of course, being noble ladies, their speech remained exquisitely refined — but the way they traded fatal blows in that refined register was enough to send chills down any onlooker's spine.

"Hehe…. Some of the young ladies are up to rather amusing things."

And there was one person who found the situation less welcome than anyone else.

"But it hardly matters."

That person was none other than the Crown Princess, who had ascended as the new head moderator of the Noble Ladies Gallery in Lady Yulian's place.

"Provincial nobles, perhaps — but there's no chance our highborn ladies would ever lower themselves to participate in such a vulgar gallery."

The morning after the Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery appeared, she had invited the ladies under her influence and the highborn ladies who already held Blue Armbands to a tea party. She openly brought up the Gossip Gallery, smiling all the while.

"You all agree, don't you?"

She lightly covered her mouth with her fan and posed the question in a cold voice. The answers came back in unison.

"Of course, Your Highness!"

"I wouldn't even dream of logging into a gallery like that, not even if I died and came back!"

"We have our dignity to uphold — what young lady of any proper house would willingly smear herself with filth?"

Watching the ladies scramble over each other to flatter her, the Crown Princess nodded with a satisfied expression.

"Indeed, indeed."

Behind the fan, the corner of her mouth was already curling with a sly, scheming twitch.

After everything I did to bring Lady Yulian down, as if I'd be shaken by some hideous little gallery like that.

For the woman who had toppled Lady Yulian through meticulous planning, the Gossip Gallery was admittedly an unexpected variable. But the Crown Princess was confident she could brush aside a crisis of that caliber. So long as the noble Blue Armband ladies and the ladies under her own influence stood united, there was no chance of getting tangled up in such a filthy gallery.

"……."

And then, roughly five minutes later.

"…Cough."

Leisurely enjoying her tea and sweets, the Crown Princess checked the Gossip Gallery again just in case — and nearly sprayed the tea she was holding across the table.

Somehow, the Noble Ladies Gossip Gallery was flooding with posts attacking her — posts filled with details that no one outside this very room could possibly have known.

"Ladies?"

Breaking into a cold sweat, the Crown Princess called out to the young ladies she'd invited to the tea party, wearing her trademark icy smile.

"Ah, yes, Your Highness."

"Did you need something?"

"Was there something you wished to say?"

But the ladies, reacting a beat late as if their minds were elsewhere, returned the exact same smile and offered her nothing but sweet, smiling eyes.

— Grind….

For a moment the Crown Princess lost her composure, roughly setting her teacup down on the table as a vein stood out on her forehead.

"…It's nothing at all."

But all she could do in that moment was force her smile to hold and grind her teeth. No matter how much of a social black hand she was — the one who'd toppled a ducal lady — she was powerless before the Gossip Gallery.

The natural enemy of the ruling class: the Gossip Gallery. That was the moment this unexplained phenomenon began to be burned into the minds of the powerful as an object of genuine terror.