A Matter of Hygiene (3)

Elves hated washing.

To be more precise, it wasn't so much that they detested it; they had simply grown thoroughly accustomed to living without it.

Ancient elves had once coexisted with the very pests gnawing at the World Tree, romanticizing them as "fairies." Through generations, they were taught that abstaining from bathing was the true path to preserving an immaculate soul. They had come to question the very act of washing the body while communing with the divine tree. Above all else, their physiology possessed an inherent advantage: even when left unwashed, they suffered far less physical discomfort than other races.

As expected of a race blessed with ethereal beauty, their baseline appearance stayed remarkably well-maintained even without basic grooming. When they first started droning on about pure souls and spiritual sanctity, I assumed it was another sermon from the Church fanatics. Finding out it was the elves had caught me completely off guard.

To think that elves, of all creatures—the universal fantasy emblem of pristine purity—would turn out to be unwashed recluses.

Of course, not every elf held this obstinate view. The self-proclaimed Full-HP Elf faction was relatively reasonable, but their numbers were painfully small. The vast majority adamantly clung to their filth. In the face of such a baffling standoff, I reached a single, simple conclusion.

"Like I care."

All I had to do was stop paying attention.

There had been times when I gritted my teeth and intervened to save forum users from their own sheer contrarian stupidity—the prime example being when I had to physically wrestle an idiot out of pouring milk directly into open wounds for a 'healing bath.' But this situation was entirely different.

"It's not like anyone's dying from it."

If they refused to wash, they were the ones who would suffer the discomfort. What did I lose? I had zero intention of forcing basic hygiene down their throats, so I wiped the elves from my mind completely. And regardless of their stubborn boycotts, the Gallery was already swept up in a frantic craze over the newfound bathing culture.

Ignorance was bliss, but the moment one tasted true cleanliness, there was no moderation. It was an insatiable rabbit hole.

Having experienced the invigorating freshness and soft, dry warmth of a proper bath, people plunged deeper into the pursuit of hygiene. Minor itches they had previously dismissed as standard background noise had become utterly unbearable. Dandruff and lice proved to be the most agonizing offenders. On top of that, humans weren't blessed with elven biology, meaning greasy, matted hair quickly became a paramount crisis.

Right as posts from users steadily descending into madness began flooding the board, I knew.

"The time has come!"

Recognizing the golden opportunity, I retrieved the goods I had stockpiled from the System Shop in advance. However, dumping them directly onto the Market wasn't the play. First, I needed influential advertising models to serve as ambassadors for the product.

I sent the first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wave of shampoo bottles to my Assistant Moderators. Then came the next step.

The second care package went straight to the fallen noble lady—or rather, the newly crowned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tuna Queen—toward whom I harbored a tiny twinge of personal guilt.

"Now, let's see what happens."

I was already lounging in bed, but I shifted into an even more decadently comfortable sprawl, a self-satisfied grin spreading across my face.

"Aaaah."

Inside an office somewhere in the royal palace of Eladrien.

"Mmmgh..."

Accompanied by trembling, incomprehensible whimpers, a person—or rather, an elf—was thoroughly intoxicated with pure bliss. Sub-moderator and Knight Commander of the Elven Knights, Eliana, sat completely unstrung, her eyes half-lidded and glassy.

"This refreshing chill seeping into my scalp... it's insane-eyo..."

Curled neatly inside a circular folding bathtub, lathering her hair with the fragrant, frosty suds, she found herself wondering if the elven paradise spoken of in legends was right here. How on earth could such a miraculous concoction exist?

"This is like..."

Wasn't this the kind of artifact that could only be conceived after escaping the primal struggle for survival, spending hundreds of years contemplating solely how to live a life of supreme indulgence and leisure? This was already her second bath today. After whipping the shampoo into a cloud of foaming bubbles, Eliana dipped her head cleanly beneath the warm water, rinsing away every trace.

Stepping out and slipping into soft clothes, she capped off the ritual with a chilled bottle of Dew.

"Khah! Truly, nothing beats Dew as the grand finale-eyo!"

For today, slacking off was entirely permitted. Even Eliana was entitled to one of her vanishingly rare days off.

"I love you, Juddak!"

Clad in casual silk garments, she stepped out onto the capital streets with light, buoyant strides.

"A-Alcohol... I need a drink..."

"I just want to go home..."

All around her, the wretched thralls of duty and bureaucracy dragged their feet. Looking upon those pathetic, overworked elves, Eliana felt an intoxicating rush of pleasure bordering on ecstasy. Just as she was basking in the contrast, a familiar voice called out.

"Um, Commander?"

"Melang?"

Wandering out of the sea of zombie-like elves came her Vice-Captain, notable for her hazy, exhausted gaze and flowing silver hair. Naturally, Melang was also off duty today.

"What's with you? Something about you... seems different?"

"Hmm?"

"How should I put it... you look somewhat more radiant, perhaps?"

Melang quickly pinpointed the source. It was undeniably that mane of hair, swaying with an ethereal, luminous luster. Driven by pure instinct, Melang brushed her hand through it—the strands parted without catching for a fraction of a second, smooth and cool as the finest silk.

"W-What is this?!"

Melang froze so abruptly that the can of cola slipped right out of her fingers, clattering to the cobbles.

In truth, passing elves had been eyeing the Commander with similar bewilderment for several minutes now. While coarse or brittle hair was rare among their kind, hair of such breathtaking perfection was virtually unheard of. Naturally, pedestrians couldn't help stealing curious glances while feigning indifference.

Did she acquire some secret treasure?

Did the World Tree grant her a new divine blessing?

However, the onlookers' mounting awe shattered into sheer horror in the very next instant.

"Ah, this? I bartered with Juddak."

"Pardon?!"

"Ah, w-well, by sheer coincidence, yes! It just so happened that we had an unexpected barter!"

In her eagerness to boast, Eliana had nearly slipped into her telltale forum verbal tic and exposed her identity as the sub-moderator. But none of the surrounding elves cared about her manner of speech.

"It was... an item from the Head Mod?"

"Ah..."

Of all people, it had come from the Head Mod. Worse, it was the exact kind of merchandise they had so haughtily banded together to declare entirely unnecessary.

Needless to say, the results were an unqualified triumph. If Evelyn was complaining about being hounded by nobles, its popularity was practically guaranteed without even looking at the numbers.

Vampire Till I Die was on the exact same page. I hadn't been particularly curious about her solitary bunker life, but earning the unanimous endorsement of both her left and right hand? Truly, I was deeply moved.

As for Full-Health Elf... eh, whatever. Just as I was about to skip her, a chat ping flashed on screen.

Sharp as ever, our elf sub-mod. If even elf society—the self-proclaimed anti-hygiene stronghold—was reacting like this, the verdict was settled. Out on the main board, threads concerning the mysterious shampoo were burning with white-hot intensity.

Above all, high nobles were notorious for dousing themselves in pungent perfumes to mask their foul head odors. But Evelyn had personally showcased the truth: shampoo didn't just give you soft, lustrous hair and an invigoratingly chilled scalp, it left behind a scent infinitely more refined and natural than any concoction a master perfumer could brew.

An explosive reaction, precisely as predicted.

"Alright, this is more than enough momentum to list it on the Market."

Its marketability was rock-solid. But right as my finger hovered over the registration confirmation, a new thread caught my eye.

I pulled my hand back immediately.

"Wait a minute, isn't this shameless as hell?"

If I dumped it directly onto the Market, anyone could buy it. That included the very elves who had loudly announced their disdain for hygiene without anyone even asking them. Spouting sanctimonious trash up front and then sneaking behind everyone's backs to buy it in secret?

I halted the upload and drafted a brand-new official announcement.

And just like that, I decided to sell shampoo to every living being in the world—except elves.