Popularity Nick Yang Jia (2)
"What the hell is this."
A rival had appeared in High Gallery, the forum where I reigned supreme.
Naturally, I wasn't thrilled about this intruder's sudden emergence.
What can I say? It felt like someone was trying to steal the chair I'd been sitting in all along.
If this were a major community with high traffic and fast post turnover, I'd have drowned the guy out immediately. As a pro gallery troll, cracking open my arsenal just to bury one no-name influx might be a bit embarrassing, but I could do it if I had to.
There are times in life when you have to swallow your pride and get shit done.
But where was this? High Gallery. Low traffic, comments only from regulars, recommendations hovering around predictable numbers.
If I unleashed my full arsenal there, it'd be obvious in a heartbeat. Someone would snitch about multiple accounts stirring shit, and that'd be the end.
Once suspicion spreads, everyone turns on each other, and the community crumbles fast.
Sure, I could dial it back and avoid detection, but I didn't want to reclaim my spot with such cheap tricks.
High Gallery was like Law Gallery but different. While Law Gallery was for everyday mages to chat, High Gallery was for sharing knowledge—a haven for those who'd reached higher magical heights or aspired to.
In short, unlike normie spots, it was an elegant, intellectual space.
Pulling a sockpuppet terror attack there would be like shitting on the dance floor at a fancy party.
I liked this party too much to ruin it, so I decided to handle the challenger the High Gallery way.
I dropped a comment on his post. A question mark loaded with double meaning. I didn't even read the post itself.
With the reply notifications off, I checked the content after laying down some psychological warfare.
One thing I'd learned from years in online communities: ignoring someone cranks up their mental pressure like nothing else.
"Hmm..."
Ignoring the comments, I scanned his post. I kept refreshing obsessively, watching the views, likes, and replies skyrocket at the top.
Pathetic compared to major sites, but for High Gallery, it meant every regular was glued.
"Not as impressive as I thought."
The content was thinner than expected. It proposed a "new perspective" on spatial magic, mostly rehashing its dangers and instability. Bringing a spatial magic post here rubbed me wrong to begin with—the creator was right here, and this punk was grabbing at straws.
Plus, it wasn't even a translation of an ancient elven grimoire. Just some Earth-written English paper.
Sure, magic terms were in ancient Elvish and translated, but the quality was leagues below my posts.
"With this kinda crap..."
Ha.
I sighed involuntarily. The skill gap was massive. The poster wasn't even an elf, judging by the fannish Elvish translations sprinkled in.
"Nothing worth seeing here."
The comments were probably ripping it apart. High Gallery ain't easy mode—this wasn't the place for trash like that. Time to show 'em what for.
Confident in my victory, I hit refresh one last time and scrolled to the bottom.
Then I nearly fell backward at the sight.
Most of the comments were positive toward his post. I even thought, Did they all get mass-hypnotized or something?
An English paper translation pulling this much hype? And my question mark got buried without a peep.
Unacceptable. I couldn't stomach this reversal.
"The nerve... this is my turf..."
More focused than in a Gate, I dissected his translation line by line.
The author was suspect first off. My English sucked, but it screamed Chinese name.
China lagged in magic anyway, and the country wasn't elf- or magic-friendly to begin with.
Sure, they hyped new spatial magic breakthroughs lately, but know your audience.
In my face. On my turf. Do you even know who I am?
"Hoo..."
Of course, I wasn't charging in blindly. This was a knowledge-sharing space. Even tearing someone down had to be elegant and intellectual.
I downloaded his translation and unleashed superhuman focus to fix errors and distortions.
"Yeah, yeah. No way it's flawless. Even Confucius of spatial magic doesn't know jack..."
Spatial magic was basically my exclusive domain. I'd never taught anyone. Well, couldn't, really.
Back in Yggdrasil, they'd call it heresy and trash it anyway... Now they wanna dissect my magic?
As if.
Emotionally fired up, but I kept the critique cool and serene. Just a dash of mockery and criticism—nothing overboard.
Click.
Final paragraph fixed, Ctrl+S. A brief lag, then my long critique was done.
Couldn't hold back. Straight to High Gallery with my post.
Plain, unprovocative title. Like I was just casually checking for issues, no malice.
But the content? Meticulously shredding every flaw, designed to crush the translator's ego.
My shady intent was subtle—only the original poster would get it.
Come on. Show me your counter.
Click click click.
I hammered refresh like 10 times a second, craving elder praise and his despair in the replies.
I could've opened the arsenal to rig my own post, but that was too sleazy.
Pure, honorable knowledge-based showdown. That's what I wanted.
And right as I checked for new replies, certain of victory...
Hmm?
This bastard.
Okay, fair reaction maybe. Spatial magic was beyond normies—opinions could clash.
But disappointing from a High Gallery regular with some magical chops.
I waited calmly for the next. Surely, the enlightened would recognize my genius and comment.
But.
What the actual fuck.
I couldn't believe it. Watching my masterpiece get trashed like this—rage boiled over.
And the killing blow from him:
Korean has some high-efficiency characters. My question mark, his single keypress—they packed a punch.
This one pissed me off huge, max value for effort.
"Uwaaaah!"
Almost grabbed the shotgun in rage again, but keyboard cost stopped me.
Instead, I dove into the blanket behind my chair, screaming into it.
Yelling loud draws complaints from downstairs.
Bam bam bam.
I kicked the blanket wildly too. Once calmed, I sat back down—to find myself banned from the gallery.
The mod's take:
Anon and I got our posts deleted equally, banned for three days. Case closed, seemingly.
"......"
I'd put it behind me. It wasn't a big deal anyway, and I'd decided not to obsess over random anon influxes.
Sure, the comments shocked me into gathering modern spatial magic info for a bit, but that's it.
Most was meh or nutrient-poor, but humanity's takes on spatial magic were intriguing.
Tools from spatial mana, power plants using it as fuel.
They saw it as an energy source, akin to regular mana.
"Hmm..."
This felt nostalgic, like old times.
Back then, grimoires and scrolls; now, keyboard clicks from my room—way comfier.
Rediscovering that scholarly curiosity and thrill? Nice.
I even told Baek Seol-yeon, and she seemed pleased. Then she started shipping related books.
Normally she'd visit, but "swamped right now," she said.
Her books were mostly Elvish—nearly all. Yet they didn't feel archaic.
Probably her consideration, since I only knew Korean and Elvish.
"Consideration" and Baek Seol-yeon don't mix well, but whatever.
Recently, a message from her:
Conference, huh. I accepted. Sounded fun.
Skimming her conference info, one familiar title jumped out.
[New Theories on Spatial Magic and Mana, and the World's Gaze]
A presentation matching that High Gallery paper.