Drafting Assistant Moderators (2)
“This is simply unacceptable, I tell you!”
Knight Commander of Eladrien, Eliana, slammed her delicate fist onto the desk, her entire frame trembling with indignation. Her immaculate blonde hair, usually smooth and composed, spiked out at frantic angles in her sheer bewilderment. What had driven Eliana—renowned far and wide for her icy composure—into such an emotional tempest was nothing more than a couple of short system alerts.
You have been appointed an administrator of the Otherworld Destruction Gallery.
The Blue Badge has been issued. Congratulations!
“Eeeek!”
What was an administrator's armband? It meant being a manager forced to display a blue badge next to your handle while policing the entire gallery. It meant purging trolls and safeguarding the board's peace around the clock. In a single word: an unpaid slave.
Panicking, she had immediately stormed into the admin chat to lodge a furious protest with the Head Mod.
Was it a small mercy that Juddak was not completely depraved? He seemed to concede, voicing faint disappointment in the face of Eliana's unyielding refusal.
Juddak was far more deranged than Eliana had ever conceived. All she had seen upon receiving her moderator powers was this pitiful admin chat room. How on earth was that a "Class-1 state secret"? Juddak simply had zero intention of letting her walk free.
“Juddak. So that is how you wish to play this?”
Her vision darkened with despair, but she was not completely defenseless. She peeked at the current atmosphere on the public boards.
“Just as I anticipated.”
The board was five minutes away from outright anarchy. Users everywhere were expressing grave panic over her appointment. Unlike her external stature as Knight Commander of the Elves, inside the gallery she was merely known as Full-HP Elf, a bizarre poster who appended weird verbal tics to every sentence. And Eliana intended to exploit this exact public sentiment.
To tell the truth, I have wanted this moderator armband for a very long time, I tell you.
Everyone, listen closely to my administrative agenda, I say.
First! Once I assume complete authority!
I will mercilessly purge the gallum who stole my old fixed nickname, 'CuteFreshmanElf', I say.
Next, second!
I will ban on sight every single elf-hater I couldn't stand before.
And finally, I will place a blanket IP-ban on the entire Dwarven and Dark Elf races so they can never set foot in this gallery again, I say!
From this day forward, our Full-HP Elf Unit shall rule this gallery, I tell you!
“Excellent. The reception is freezing.”
A ruling authority could never govern alone without a mandate. If an administrator pushed forward while public sentiment turned against them, they became nothing more than a tyrant. No leader could afford to ignore the will of the masses.
Even if that public sentiment seemed slightly defective, it was still a backlash.
—Rider.
Before long, Juddak had actually uploaded an explanation post.
“As expected! Justice always prevails, I say!”
Indeed, Head Mod or not, what choice did he have? Eliana wore a triumphant smile as she clicked the thread, eager to read his formal capitulation—only to be struck dumb.
“What in the...?”
Her mind blanked out. Juddak was infinitely more unhinged than anyone could ever conceive.
An explanation? Lol.
Anyone who gets cheeky with me gets drafted into an Assistant Mod.
Of course, this is a joke.
Except it's actually not a joke.
If you've got a complaint, I'll make you an Assistant Mod lol.
“N-no...”
Was her grand insurrection collapsing into such pathetic impotence? Right then, an alert rattled through Eliana's system interface.
“...Gulp.”
Eliana swallowed hard, feeling a brand of tension she had never experienced even while hunting colossal demonic beasts. Trembling, she opened the chatroom, only to be greeted by chilling messages from Juddak that seemed to imply he had seen through her schemes from the very start.
Thus, the first rebellion of a lifelong assistant moderator came to a thoroughly meaningless end.
As of today, the Destruction Gallery will implement a mandatory conscription system.
The criteria for conscription are as follows:
.
.
Actually, there are none. I'll just pick whoever I feel like.
Q) Why are you doing this all of a sudden?
A) Considering that nobody ever volunteers no matter how many recruitment notices I post for Assistant Mods.
If nobody steps forward, drafting you solves the problem lol.
What happens if you are chosen as a sacred guardian of the Destruction Gallery?
Congrats! Then you are now a proud and splendid worker of the Destruction Gallery.
Now all you have to do is devote your blood and sweat to the gallery.
I hope you strive hard as an outstanding Assistant Mod for the sake of our community.
Q) What happens if I reject the Assistant Mod appointment?
A) The Destruction Gallery is not lenient toward draft dodgers.
Draft dodgers will be stripped of their gallery citizenship and permanently deported.
9,999-day ban, got it?
If you're a dragon or some long-lived species who thinks 9,999 days is a walk in the park, feel free to try me.
“Well, this is the only way. It's about time I recruited some Assistant Mods anyway.”
Lounging comfortably on the soft mattress gifted to him by the fallen noble lady, Juddak continued his gallery browsing under the gentle bunker lights. Drafting Assistant Mods through mandatory conscription was a deeply rooted, venerable tradition from his past life. Thanks to his declaration, the entire gallery was descending into utter pandemonium.
Please, just draft someone else. But please, whoever gets caught, let them be sane.
Amidst that suffocating tension, Juddak deliberately set his sights on the lurkers who had abruptly halted their posting to avoid detection.
Don't assume you won't get caught just because you stopped posting and started lurking.
I might actively consider draft-dodging contempt as an aggravating factor?
Naturally, there was vocal resistance. Not everyone took amusement in such oppressive tension. Because every single member fell within the conscription pool, anxious gallums began publishing agitated threads.
Conscription system, my ass.
Does he seriously think implementing a sudden draft without any prior notification is going to end well?
One hundred percent, this whole thing will wobble and collapse down the road.
I guarantee on my life that Juddak has never spent a single day in an army.
Every shred of dissent was swiftly annihilated by cold, hard facts. He had literally lived through it. And if anyone possessed a complaint, he was fully prepared to inflict the exact same agony upon them.
Thanks to his terrifying conviction, all resistance evaporated into thin air, leaving behind only an agonizing, hardcore game of survival. For whoever was chosen, the only outcomes were the permanent deletion of their gallery access or a sentence as a lifelong Assistant Mod. The entire board held its breath, every passing minute and second feeling like treading across a sheet of paper-thin ice.
I have selected an Assistant Mod.
Does not shitpost.
Zero history of launching tactical nukes.
I have selected them based on these perfectly reasonable merits. Everyone, please congratulate our new rookie Assistant Mod.
By the time dusk fell over the realm, Juddak had unearthed a prime talent.
Every user across the gallery reflexively checked the space next to their handle, overwhelmed by the euphoric relief that they had survived another day. Perhaps due to the massive surge of adrenaline released after such near-death anxiety, the comment section had devolved into pure, unadulterated madness.
Spotting a relatively sane question amidst the delirium, Juddak prepared to reply and unveil the identity of the conscripted mod. But right before he could hit submit, the freshly conscripted talent graciously stepped in to introduce herself.
In that exact instant, all comment activity across the entire forum froze in its tracks.
Following a suffocating silence, a single reply finally shattered the stillness of the dead air.
It was the self-proclaimed thousand-year progenitor vampire with a deeply bizarre roleplay persona: Vampire Till I Die.