Prohibition (2)

"What the hell?"

I leaned in closer to inspect the attached photo. It unmistakably resembled the four small horns I had seen in WholesomeModest's verified selfies.

"Hmm..."

Ever since I possessed this body in another world, I had found myself caught in countless bizarre predicaments, but this was a true moral quandary. I had traded for furniture like beds and desk lamps, but accepting an unidentifiable body part felt questionable at best. Yet before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my brain could stop my hands, muscle memory took over, and the trade was already completed.

"Whoa, it really is a horn."

How did something like this even sprout from someone's skull? As I closely studied the dark, index-finger-sized horn resting on my palm, the forum system flashed an appraisal window into view.

"Holy crap."

The effect was tailored precisely to my most pressing need. It provided total immunity against the location-tracking threats that foreign trolls loved to throw around whenever their egos got bruised.

"Seriously though, why would she hand over something so precious?"

I couldn't fathom why a famous registered user, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who normally did nothing but drop provocative photos and flee, would offer such a lavish gift. It wasn't as though I had treated her with exceptional kindness.

"Wait."

Her sudden counter-question caught me off guard. The entire board wondered about it, but no one had ever asked out loud. To think she would bring it up herself so bluntly.

Succubi sustained themselves on condensed hedonism and pleasure — indulgences like alcohol, gambling, narcotics, or tobacco. But once the world collapsed into ash, all of that vanished. The only surviving option left was to upload suggestive photos to the gallery and harvest the raw lust generated by thirsty netizens.

The puzzle pieces fell into place with devastating clarity. That explained why her daily morning photo drops had slowed to a crawl lately.

"Oh. My. God."

Regardless of my personal aesthetic loss, Lillian's Horn was a god-tier relic, and I was now untouchable. After hearing WholesomeModest's plight, I almost felt that Frederick's continental prohibition was a blessing in disguise...

"Well, that's one thing, but this is another."

An imperial troll attempting to hijack my forum had to be struck down without mercy.

I took the first step toward exterminating the royal pest.

"Th-That damnable Juddak bastard!"

"Y-Your Highness, please compose yourself."

"How can you ask me to be calm looking at this, Duke?!"

"Mmh..."

A mere week had passed since the imperial alcohol ban took effect. As rumblings of popular insurrection and regional conflict began to spark across the continent, Crown Prince Frederick had urgently summoned Duke Isaac to the capital. Backed by the Duke's overwhelming military presence, early unrest had been swiftly suppressed, keeping foreign threats at bay. Just as they had always done, the imperial court sought to crush dissent beneath an iron heel.

Yet now, even brute force was losing its grip.

"To dare insult me with such underhanded schemes!"

Juddak had flooded the marketplace with massive quantities of gourmet delicacies crafted specifically as drinking snacks. Unlike common peasants who knew only plain spirits, Frederick had lived a life of pampered luxury and recognized the purpose of those foods instantly.

"Does this Juddak have a death wish?"

Despite receiving explicit imperial warnings, the insolent commoner dared to pull such petty tricks. At that moment, Count Abel, the commander tasked with defending the imperial capital, burst through the chamber doors, pale and breathless.

"Y-Your Highness! Catastrophe has struck!"

"...What now?"

"A fully armed dwarven host has arrived and is currently encircling the capital's outer walls!"

"What did you say?!"

Faced with the choice between 'never drinking alcohol again' and 'dying in glorious battle tomorrow,' the Dwarves would pick dying tomorrow every single time. They were completely fanatical about alcohol. Unlike other races that merely exchanged empty threats of war, the Dwarves marched.

"...Those ale-addled dwarven savages!"

"That is not all, Your Highness. Unrest is brewing inside the palace itself. If this continues, the suppressed revolts may reignite from within."

"Khh."

Veins bulged along Frederick's furrowed brow.

"Fine. If this is how you wish to play, Juddak..."

Exhaling a ragged breath, Frederick opened the gallery interface and hastily composed a post.

"Do not be troubled, Your Highness."

"I know, Duke. For now, We feign compliance. Once the dust settles, We shall drag that administrator from his hole and throw him in chains."

The Head Moderator was an existential weapon in human form. Whichever faction brought him to heel would claim absolute dominance over the known world. If the peasant lacked the wit to submit willingly, taking him by brute force was the obvious recourse. Frederick fingered the Location-Tracking Magic Tool tucked within his sleeve.

Right then, a new post appeared on the front page.

Crack.

"Duke Isaac."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Duke Isaac, who had just hurried to click the downvote button beside the Prince, looked up. Frederick was already channeling mana into the Location-Tracking Magic Tool.

"W-Wait, Your Highness! That is our Empire's sole surviving tracking artifact! You must exercise prudence—!"

"I will tear that administrator apart with my own two hands."

Flash!

The artifact shattered into crystalline dust, and the system prompt materialized in the air.

"What...?"

Of course it failed. Juddak was never foolish enough to talk trash from a position of vulnerability. He was the very embodiment of bullying the weak while cowering before the strong!

Before Frederick's dumbfounded gaze, a fresh Best Post materialized on the screen.

"You... YOU INSOLENT LITTLE BASTARD—!"

Frederick's temper erupted like a dormant volcano. He kicked his chair aside and stood roaring, entirely oblivious to a chilling comment that had quietly slipped beneath the post.

"Duke Isaac, mobilize every soldier inside and outside the capital! Comb every district until Juddak's physical location is discovered!"

"Your Highness, that is madness! The Empire's internal foundation is already fracturing. Even if we succeed in capturing him, it will provoke every race across the continent to wage total war against us."

"I do not care! I shall never forget the humiliation I suffered this day!!"

Never in Frederick's life had he tasted such utter indignity. Ever since the late Emperor's passing, he loathed having his authority questioned, especially within a vulgar gallery where peasants and lower-class scum openly ridiculed his rule. He had originally sought to exploit the forum for imperial dominion, but now, all restraint was burned to cinder.

"Juddak, I swear upon my bloodline I will—huh?"

Before his sentence could conclude, an uncanny post surfaced on the Best Posts board.

It had 0 upvotes.

"What in the world?!"

Duke Isaac's eyes widened to the size of saucers. It was an anomaly whispered only in fearful forum rumors: a post bypassing all voting thresholds to plant itself directly at the top of the Best Posts feed.

Hands trembling, Frederick clicked on the title. The post contained merely a single photograph and a terse line of text.

"...Duke Isaac."

"...Yes, Your Highness."

"...Let us pretend this never happened."

The arrogant tyrant who had swung his authority like a madman tucked his tail between his legs the very second he came face-to-face with true, unadulterated madness.

Meanwhile, deep within a ruined storage bunker in the fallen Kelton Kingdom.

"What's this now?"

An unexpected peace offering had just landed on my doorstep.