Assistant Mod (Forced) Recruitment (3)
"Another peaceful day on the boards."
I killed empty hours scrolling through endless posts and snooping on conversations. Now that I had finally drafted an Assistant Mod, I had hoped to lighten my administrative burden and lose myself in leisurely shitposting, but reality refused to cooperate.
The newcomer was utterly useless.
"See? Being nice from the start never pays off. All they think about is quitting. Tsk, tsk."
Elves these days just had no fighting spirit. None at all.
The new Assistant Mod was woefully lacking, perhaps because of her own notorious past antics.
If anything, the tactical nukes seemed to have multiplied.
I desperately needed another Assistant Mod.
Right then, a bizarre post caught my eye.
For many years I cannot do sleeping
This is verily a curse. I wish to be liberated
Yet curse departure bastard does not liberate
Not departure, but sibal
The curse stole my language
Oh curse departure bastard. Departure departure departure!
Alas today also painful days
"What in the world is this...?"
A nonsensical piece of writing adrift amid the digital deluge. Checking the user's history revealed an absurdly high comment-to-post ratio. Yet strangely enough, no one paid her the slightest bit of attention. The view count was literally one.
Usually, sheer curiosity would compel someone to click, but nobody in the gallery ever mentioned Vampire Till I Die. Intrigued, I left a comment.
The interesting part was that Vampire Till I Die hadn't committed a single act of trolling.
"No tactical nukes, no public witch hunts... Her record is completely clean?"
Could an active gallery user genuinely be innocent of all offenses? As I marvelled at this anomaly, a brilliant idea struck me.
"The bit is painfully committed, but who cares?"
My instincts were sharp. Appointing her would surely bring order back to the gallery after Full-Health Elf's reign of chaotic incompetence. And if Vampire Till I Die turned out to be an unhinged psycho as well?
"I'll just apologize then."
Shoot first, ask questions later.
Without hesitation, I crowned Vampire Till I Die with the blue badge.
A few years ago, an urban legend had been posted to the gallery.
The place looks so fucking cursed from the outside that I assume no user in their right mind would ever go near it.
Still, if you're feeling brave and thinking of scrounging up some ancient loot, drop that idea right now.
Speaking as an actual resident of the Mariaka region, there's a local saying that you shouldn't even look in its direction, not even as a joke.
Rumor has it a vampire progenitor over a thousand years old resides inside.
Others claim it's a festering hive where countless horrific curses converged into a single mass.
The one undeniable fact: if you go, you die.
Never. Absolutely never go to Abandoned Castle Mariaka.
The post detailed an eerie legend surrounding the abandoned castle situated in the Mariaka territory of the Kelton Kingdom. It had stood since before the Great War, its history so ancient that not even the royal records retained any mention of its founders. The only certainty was that everyone spoke of it in fearful whispers. Even after the Great War, when waves of feral magical beasts overran the lands, not a single beast dared step foot within its perimeter.
The real disaster, however, erupted because of the thread.
In internet logic, telling someone never to go was an explicit invitation to dive right in. True to human stubbornness, brave fools marched off toward the castle to scavenge relics from the ruined world.
Every single one of their IPs had been permanently erased from the world. Then, a new thread ascended directly to the Best Posts section—a thread with zero upvotes, bypassing all algorithmic logic.
Ten departure children who woke my sweet slumber.
Why ignore my warning?
The curse stimulates my appetite.
I shall sate my hunger by drinking wicked blood.
However, everyone brought this upon themselves.
Following that ominous broadcast, nearly a hundred user IPs vanished every single day. Humans, beastfolk, elves, dwarves—she made no distinction. The IP massacre raged for an entire week before grinding to a halt, carving an indelible scar into the forum's collective memory.
Never reply to Vampire Till I Die's posts.
That ironclad taboo had been honored without exception—until the Head Moderator not only chatted her up, but pinned an Assistant Mod badge onto her chest.
Of all the users to pick, why the hell did you choose Censor-Delete?!
I can tolerate literally everything else on this board, but not this.
I'm dead fucking serious. Cancel her appointment right now.
If you don't want all of us—including you—to die, REVOKE IT PLEASE!!!!!!
"Wait, she had that kind of reputation?"
Looking closer, the user I had recruited was indeed an agitator—only she agitated reality itself. Even so, from my perspective, the drama felt overblown.
My new Assistant Mod obeyed me without question. And her board moderation? Absolutely pristine. Granted, whenever memories of being ignored resurfaced, she threatened dissenters with 999-day bans, but her enforcement was nothing short of miraculous.
Her very presence acted as an absolute deterrent. No gallery user had the nerve to lob a tactical nuke right at a walking urban legend. A bizarre, fragile equilibrium settled over the boards, dangling between relief and dread.
"Come to think of it, didn't someone say she murdered a bunch of people?"
Watching her playfully terrorize Full-Health Elf in chat, she hardly seemed like a cold-blooded killer. If curiosity struck, the easiest path was simply to ask. I typed the question no one else had dared voice.
So, in her own eyes, she was the good guy? Still, she had a point. She had suppressed her bloodlust and slept peacefully, only for greedy intruders to kick down her front door and wake her up.
If things went south later, I could always strip her badge. Just to be safe, I bought an absurd mountain of exorcism salt from the Marketplace and cranked the bunker lights to their brightest setting.
"So scary."
Not that I was frightened or intimidated, of course.
Deep within Abandoned Castle Mariaka, perched high on the sheer cliffs, an indolent woman reclined upon the throne of an audience chamber long forsaken by living souls.
Wispy silver-white hair, crimson eyes, and porcelain pale skin. Her blood-red gown pooled against the stone dais, weaving a haunting, unnatural presence through the cavernous hall.
Fufu.
An ominous laugh echoed across the chamber walls. The master of the ruin, Erzsebet, was the progenitor of vampires, stripped of restful sleep and lucid speech by an ancient curse. She was also the newly minted Assistant Mod, Vampire Till I Die.
Head Mod... how fascinating.
Whatever was running through his mind? Intrigued by the strange administrator who had granted her power, she took a slow sip of cold Coca-Cola.
Mmm! This dark nectar never fails to delight.
Her eyes narrowed in quiet pleasure as the fizzy refreshment washed through her body. Each effervescent sip made her momentarily forget the agonizing shackles of her curse—intense enough to dull even her gnawing thirst for blood.
When one receives a favor, one must naturally repay it.
Head Mod. Even the sound of his title held a pleasing ring. Determined to fulfill her duties as his appointed steward, Erzsebet diligently clicked through threads. Then, her crimson gaze froze.
The Adrian Empire has decreed a total ban on the sale of alcohol.
By what insolence do you dare defy our imperial mandate?
Do you not know that the Imperial Crown reigns supreme over all creation?
Our patience has run its course, and your transgressions go too far.
Cease and ban all transactions related to alcoholic beverages within your marketplace at once.
This is both a warning and an imperial command.
Rectify this before tomorrow morning.
Oh?
Erzsebet narrowed her eyes as she found a distinctly impure disturbance.