The Marketplace Gallery (Part 3)
(Attached Photo: Dwarves planting their flag after reclaiming the outer ramparts)
We have successfully slaughtered every last demon beast that crawled into our fortress.
It was all thanks to the alcohol Judddak provided.
We dwarves shall never forget Judddak's aid, and we swear upon our honor to repay it in full.
From this day forth, you are our brother!
The moment alcohol entered their systems, the dwarves drove out the endless swarm of demon beasts in one fell swoop. Apparently, the sight of dwarves who had spent weeks cowering behind high stone walls suddenly charging out with flushed, beet-red faces sent the monsters fleeing in sheer terror.
"Still, I guess dwarves get drunk pretty easily too."
Given their typical fantasy reputation for chugging ungodly brews without batting an eye, I had worried Earth's alcohol might taste bland to them, but they had gotten smashed in no time flat. That left me feeling a little uneasy. If they charged out onto the battlefield completely hammered, it could just as easily backfire and get them all killed.
I'm thinking of adding more booze to the marketplace going forward, but aren't the proof levels too high?
It's dangerous to be drunk during a war, you know.
"Wait, that counted as getting triggered?"
A sudden, deafening hush fell over the thread. I had only mentioned it out of genuine concern, but it felt like I had somehow stomped squarely onto a dwarf's absolute taboo.
"Well, at least nobody's blowing up at me."
Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any violent backlash—or so I thought.
No, this was far beyond mere anger. Challenging their drinking pride was apparently a landmine explosive enough to incite literal homicidal fury.
"Oh crap."
The chilling thought struck me that instead of demon beasts, an army of red-faced, murderous dwarves might come battering down my bunker's blast doors. Terrified, I scrambled to fetch the strongest high-proof spirit I could think of and threw it onto the marketplace without a second thought.
Contrary to my fears, the response to the liquor was explosive.
The dwarves held an exceptionally high regard for the Absinthe in particular. From what I recalled, Absinthe was a brutally pungent distilled spirit boasting an insane alcohol content of fifty-five percent.
"Do these guys measure their approval ratings in proof percentage?"
It was a little difficult for me to wrap my head around. To chug something with an alcohol percentage fit for a chemistry lab like it was plain tap water and celebrate it with such boundless joy was entirely beyond my comprehension.
And it wasn't just the dwarves, either. The craving for alcohol crossed every racial boundary. Setting aside the terrifying Absinthe, the chilled draft beer drew immense demand from the other surviving races across the continent.
Perhaps it was because this ruined world was steeped in such suffocating despair.
The two notifications followed each other so routinely that they felt practically glued together; every single bottle I listed sold out the very second it went live.
"Is this really okay?"
It felt like the entire gallery was reeking of cheap booze. Unstable, drunken emotional swings aside, I was genuinely starting to feel the pressing need to recruit an assistant moderator to manage this chaos. Not that I could just grab any random stranger and slap a blue badge onto them, of course.
Right around then, a post caught my eye.
The moment alcohol went on sale, everyone completely lost their drive.
Willpower is the single most important trait for survival, so what are we supposed to do if people get drunk and give in to despair?
Judddak is acting way too thoughtless right now.
"Hmm, is he right?"
Even if I had been dropped into an otherworldly dimension, the only part of this realm I actually knew was this underground survival bunker. Furthermore, as time dragged on, dissenting voices against alcohol began cropping up in greater numbers.
Speaking my honest mind here, this is an extremely dangerous move.
Far from being ready to fight, people are slacking off and reminiscing about the past.
Just looking at the gallery makes it obvious. Ban alcohol sales and increase the supply of bottled water instead.
That will be the best path for you as well.
The fossilized elder geezers are spouting nonsense about 'tradition' and passing laws banning alcohol purchases, they are.
They've already dragged off several elves who bought booze to lecture them, and it's making me so damn mad, it is;
Those hypocrites indulged in whatever they wanted back when they were young and the world was peaceful, and now they pull this crap, seriously.
The elves were by far the loudest when it came to this alcohol debate. A severe generational rift had erupted between the younger elves—those under two hundred years of age—and the ancient elder fossils.
"Honestly, both sides look like ancient relics to me."
Of course, from my perspective, having barely grown out of diapers compared to elven lifespans, they were all much of a muchness. But just as the tensions surrounding the booze seemed to reach a boiling point, the powder keg finally blew.
We of the Elf Elder Council have judged Head Mod’s current conduct to be most inappropriate~
The alcoholic beverages distributed by Head Mod are bruising elven society and sowing social disorder, you see~
Therefore, if Head Mod is reading this, we hereby warn you to cease and desist immediately~
We trust Head Mod will make the wise decision, okay~?
"What the hell is this?"
My jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. It had been quite a while since I last saw a forum user who, instead of using the gallery peacefully, tried to throw their weight around and dictate terms to the Head Moderator.
Hah, do you really think issuing a polite warning is going to scare me?
"...Actually, that is kind of terrifying."
Sure, it was a little unnerving, but this was what the position of Head Moderator was all about. If I could be pushed around that easily, I wouldn't deserve the orange badge. Besides, what kind of place was this gallery? In an unhinged community where sudden outbursts, profanity, and death threats flew around daily, a politely worded warning letter was practically child's play.
Resolving to stand my ground, I drafted a post.
Keep your moral grandstanding and politics in your own society. Why the hell are you bringing your griefing to my gallery?
Delete your post and get lost before I slap every last one of you with a 999-day ban.
Public opinion was overwhelmingly on my side. Yes, yes, praise me more. Wearing a triumphant grin, I was just about to close the board and celebrate when a new comment popped up.
"What."
"Wh-Wh-What?!"
Panic surging through my veins, I immediately deleted my post and typed up a brand-new announcement so that everyone on the board could see it.
I will never act cocky again haha;
Just as you honorable elves pointed out, alcohol really is dangerous after all.
Moving forward, the sale of alcoholic beverages in the marketplace is strictly prohibited.
Humiliating as it was, staying alive came first. The moment I posted the groveling apology, the community's reaction was, predictably, pure chaos.
"It's not that I wussed out. Alcohol really is bad for your health, you know."
It really wasn't because I chickened out. Truly.
"Fufu, you please me, Head Mod."
Draped in luxurious garments of the finest silk, Mersen smiled faintly, her long black hair cascading like dark water and her ocean-blue eyes shimmering like polished gemstones. As the single most influential authority in the Elf Elder Council, even the young Elf Queen dared not oppose her. And it was none other than Mersen who had orchestrated the pressure campaign against Judddak.
"Isn't this how a proper elven society should be? Alcohol, of all things... completely absurd."
The young Elf Queen had reportedly expressed deep displeasure over the council's overreach, but...
"What can a little brat who hasn't even dried behind the ears possibly do?"
Mersen had zero intention of heeding the protests of an Elf Queen who hadn't even reached two hundred years of age. Drunk on the joy of victory once more, she was just about to take a delicate sip of pristine Samdasoo bottled water rather than anything as filthy as alcohol, when—
"Pffft?!"
A deeply offensive post caught her eye.
"U-Upvote? How utterly vulgar. To post such uncivilized drivel..."
Her brow furrowing in disgust, Mersen was just about to compose another dignified threat to force its deletion when another post surfaced right below it.
"Hmph. As if a single lone dwarf could ever hope to do anything..."
I don't give a damn about demon beasts.
You pointy-eared bitch, I'll pickle you myself.
"Wh-What is the meaning of this?!"
The gallery's response to the forced Prohibition was nothing short of apocalyptic. Confronted by the sudden, murderous hostility radiating from both humans and dwarves alike, Mersen ended up spraying her sacred water all over the floor in sheer terror.