Hunting the Head Mod (1)
Dragons possessed the innate ability to discern living beings through color.
Much like a binary world of black and white, an evil soul manifested as pitch black, while the righteous radiated pristine white. A humble heart cast a tranquil blue hue, whereas thoughts steeped in carnal lust turned a vivid, burning red.
“This is...!”
Felici, the Queen of all dragons, commanded a chromatic perception far superior to that of any other drake. Yet when she peered into the colors comprising Judddak...
“...A rainbow?”
His existence defied singular definition. An endless array of tints and spectral contours drifted through Felici’s mind—an impossible harmony of shades that simply should not exist. Even among the ancient, transcendent sovereigns of her own kind, she had never caught scent of a hue like this.
“Ah.”
Felici snapped back to her senses, realizing both her hands were pressing the cloth against the bridge of her nose. Blushing with a hint of embarrassment, she hastily lowered it. Even so, the fabric remained clasped in her slender fingers, resting quietly upon her lap.
“What an utterly marvelous spectacle of color and scent.”
Joy, sorrow, fury, delight, primal desire, and countless other passions—every shade asserted its presence with unmistakable clarity, weaving together in astonishing balance. It was enough for Felici to reach an absolute conclusion.
She nodded to herself as she typed out the message. How else could he preside over a mystic forum whose workings surpassed even her divine comprehension? While where, how, and why Judddak had arrived remained an enigma...
“Now I finally understand.”
Precisely because he originated from beyond, he could command the horrific power to orchestrate continental ruin yet choose to spend his hours idling on a community board, deriving pure bliss from trolling and baiting users.
Dragons operated on planes of perception far beyond mortal limits. When Felici had first witnessed the apocalyptic visions brought forth by his arsenal, her primal instincts had branded him an existential menace; not even her draconic resilience could withstand such utter annihilation. Now, however, the perception shifted. Judddak gave off the distinct aura of an ascetic who had lived in total isolation from the world.
Her dread dissolved into boundless curiosity. Felici felt the emotional barrier separating her from the enigmatic Head Moderator melt away into unexpected intimacy.
How the hell did she figure that out?
Long before I became the Head Moderator—back when I was just a chronic internet ghost drifting across boards under the registered handle 'SecretOfTheHumanitiesGhost'—I never left my room. I’d spend weeks cocooned beneath a blanket, staring at my monitor and shitposting around the clock. Did this dragon somehow see through my past?
I threw out the question just in case. If she recognized that I hailed from another realm, there was a microscopic chance she knew about Earth.
Wait, she doesn't even know what Seoul is?
She clearly had zero clue, misreading it as some kind of boulder.
So she literally only knew the broad fact that I had transmigrated. My momentary surge of curiosity promptly cooled.
“Well, not like I was feeling homesick anyway.”
I held no particular longing for my old life. Granted, if this world hadn’t come equipped with the Gallery interface, I would have clawed tooth and nail trying to find a way home. But as it stood...
[Welcome to the Otherworld Destruction Gallery!]
[※ Ranked #1 Trending Gallery]
“Forums are forums, whether here or on Earth.”
Thanks to the shop system, daily life lacked for nothing. Sure, hordes of demonic beasts were constantly scheming to reduce the world to ash, but holding them back hadn’t been particularly difficult so far.
My only prayer was that I’d never actually have to buy anything from that tab.
“So was Felici really the only one affected?”
[A specific entity has been affected.]
[Shop / Category / Nuclear is now accessible.]
I recalled the system prompt that flashed when I first attempted to browse the nuclear options. It claimed a specific target had registered the impact, yet up until now, only Felici had reacted. Was she truly the sole target?
Closing the shop catalog, I tabbed back to the main board. The answer presented itself almost immediately.
Did they finally realize the absolute difference in power?
“Wait, what?”
The exact instant I had unlocked the Nuclear weapons tab, every demonic beast across the region had turned tail and fled.
To start, I live out by the ocean.
Not some regular countryside, I mean a complete wasteland border territory that belongs to no nation, literal coastline wilderness.
Our settlement is basically an isolated outpost kept alive 100% by the Gallery shop.
A few days ago, a massive swarm of demonic beasts launched a coordinated raid on our village.
Most of our folks are elderly, so after defending for a few days straight, we genuinely believed our time was up.
Then something insane happened.
They froze completely solid for about a minute, then went completely feral just like in the pics.
Thanks to that, we survived right at death's door, but... seriously, what the fuck was that?
The beasts had gone completely mad. Creatures once driven solely by bloodthirsty rage were suddenly fleeing for their lives. Countless monsters battered their heads bloody against sealed dimensional rifts, while others blinded by terror leaped headlong off cliffs or plunged into the roaring ocean.
“Hmm...”
I couldn't exactly tell them the truth. I couldn't just drop an announcement saying, ‘My bad, I previewed city-leveling nuclear warheads in the shop catalog and it terrified the monsters.’ The moment I uttered a word, mass panic would sweep through the survivor enclaves just as it had shaken Felici.
“Actually, mass panic would be the best-case scenario.”
People might conspire to kidnap or assassinate me, just like the lunatics back during the Adrian incident. My safest move was complete silence.
I never imagined the ‘affected target’ would encompass the demonic beasts as well. Looking at the big picture, however, it was an undeniable blessing. Between the relentless waves of monster invasions, various races had been pushed to their absolute limits, and tribes like the dark elves were forced to live like rats underground. With the beasts fleeing and self-destructing, it was a net positive.
Yet whenever the external threat quieted down, internal rot was guaranteed to rear its ugly head.
Bizarre conspiracy theories began poking their heads above the surface.
I've always had my doubts.
Why didn't Judddak appear before the Great War broke out?
Why did he and the Gallery only show up right when the continent stood on the brink of total annihilation?
Why can't Judddak just destroy the rifts?
Think about it. Whenever an incident flares up, he swoops in to resolve it, but why didn't he show up during the Great War? Why can't he eradicate the rifts, which are the root cause?
I've connected the dots: the answer is that he is ‘deliberately leaving them alone.’
And why?
To foster absolute dependency on the Gallery.
We managed to hold out once during the Great War, so he's setting things up so we can never resist again.
What happens if another Great War erupts while we're completely dependent on the Gallery?
If Judddak vanishes then, our races will lose their focal point and collapse overnight.
Initially, such threads were drowned beneath downvote barrages and discarded as nothing more than low-effort ragebait. But the secret to successful trolling lay in relentless persistence—agitators raising doubts over and over without pause.
The existence of the Gallery itself is completely suspicious, and there are mountain-loads of red flags, yet you idiots are still worshipping it?
Do you need to get stabbed in the back before you finally wake up?
Sure, the shop goods are amazing.
I wouldn't be able to survive sane without them either.
And yeah, Judddak is gorgeous. Who wouldn't simp for a beautiful half-elf archmage girl?
But we need to get our heads straight.
Once you get betrayed, crying about it will be too late.
An internet forum was, by its very nature, a massive dopamine engine. Flooded with scandals, rumors, and provocative headlines daily, it offered an irresistible escape by indulging humanity’s rawest impulses. Yet precisely because of that nature, it carried glaring vulnerabilities.
“Classic fake news.”
‘Word on the street is...’ ‘A reliable source told me...’
It was an annual festival back on Earth too: an online witch hunt fueled by unsubstantiated gossip. Countless forum users had been targeted, driven into psychological ruin, and forced to delete their accounts over manufactured outrage. Naturally, I always knew my turn would come eventually.
“Took longer than I expected, honestly.”
Far from panicking, I observed the spectacle with bored composure. If anything, I was mildly surprised it had taken them this long to launch an offensive. What these agitators failed to realize was that I was an irredeemable forum degenerate who had poured half his life into imageboards. I had weathered countless witch hunts against high-profile users, and I knew every counter-strategy in the book.
Sup.
Because I had deliberately ignored the drama for several days, an alarming number of users had succumbed to the propaganda, driving negative comments through the roof.
Unfazed, I quietly rested my hand upon the administrative system interface.
Are you sure you wish to close [Judddak's Marketplace]?
“Time for some proper normalization, wouldn’t you say?”
It was time to roll out Rule #1 for putting down a Head Mod witch hunt.