I, the Reality Janitor!

"You said your birthday isn't today? You're kidding!"

Upon hearing Lyon's question, the black goat couldn't help but smirk.

"Stop messing around. Either you made a mistake, or your parents did, or the person who recorded your birthday in the kingdom got it wrong. Your birthday has to be today."

"But..."

"Enough with the 'buts.' There are no 'buts' here."

The black goat retorted confidently:

"Do you really think it's more likely that you, your parents, or that registrar made a mistake, or that a true god's authority somehow got it wrong and assigned you the wrong celestial position?"

"..."

That does make sense...

After recalling his own birthday from his past life and confirming that the dates didn't match, Lyon, having ruled out all possibilities he could think of, reluctantly agreed with the black goat. It seemed his sister had indeed gotten his birthday wrong. As for why he wasn't the one who made a mistake...

Well, that's simply because he didn't remember anything at all!

When he "arrived" three years ago, he was nothing but a blank slate. Forget about birthdays; he didn't even know what his own name was until Anna told him.

Hmm... I should ask her about it when I get back.

Although the exact date of his birthday wasn't a big deal, if he could really gain a downgraded version of wish-fulfillment powers through that so-called [Celestial Map Protection] on his birthday, it would definitely be worth confirming.

After jotting this down in his mind, Lyon pulled out a folded piece of scrap paper from his pocket and began sketching with a piece of charcoal.

Practicing shooting to earn badges—achieved bronze

Visiting a nurse named Hannah—discovered the Happy Apartments

Buying cigarettes for the black goat to earn the demon badge—achieved silver, but I'm out of money for now

Investigating the plumbing incident to gather evidence of wrongdoing—

Looking for the black goat's "Seven Goat Magazine"—

Hmm... looking at it this way, it seems that almost everything I wanted to do has been accomplished!

Satisfied, Léon checked off the water pipe incident on his list and drew a heart next to the "sheep offal" item, indicating he had found the whereabouts of the sheep heart. He then squeezed his legs around the witch's broom and added three more tasks to the list with his charcoal stick.

Check on that blond middle-aged man from the Ryan family and gather information about the sheep heart—

Confirm my birthday with Anna and see if I can leverage my good luck during next year's birthday—

Find a bold newspaper with a solid background to leak the water pipe incident without exposing my identity—

Hmm... that should be enough for now!

After pondering over the paper for a moment, Léon thoughtfully circled the word "newspaper" in black with his charcoal stick.

Since there was still some time today, he decided to stop by a few newspapers to buy some copies and read through their news coverage to see which one would dare to stir the pot!

...

Although the theft of documents from the Charles Hydraulics Company was not insignificant, in a megacity with a population of over ten million, this minor commotion hardly made a splash. The entire royal capital continued to operate smoothly and steadily.

As the sun slowly sank in the western sky, this bustling city, known for its "factories, smoke, and crowds," gradually began to quiet down.

With the clamor and roar of machines slowly subsiding, countless weary industrial workers began to emerge from the factories, tired expressions etched on their faces as they made their way home under the dim glow of the streetlights... Is my brother still not off work?

Anna didn't wait for Leon's escort. Carrying her laundry bundle and luggage, she left the hospital and returned to Veteran's Alley. Staring at the pitch-black window of the secondary bedroom, she unconsciously bit her lip before retrieving her keys and entering.

"It's Sis! She really came back!"

"I knew Big Brother wouldn't lie to us!"

The two youngsters had initially frozen at the door's creak, but upon recognizing Anna returning after days away, they transformed into koala cubs clinging to her legs. Their desperate grip suggested she might vanish if released.

"Yes, I'm back."

Dragging her living pendants forward, the frail girl heaved her baggage onto the table with effort. Mimicking a mother returning from work, she affectionately ruffled her siblings' hair before bending to plant kisses on their foreheads.

"Were you good while I was away? Didn't give Big Brother any trouble, did you?"

The room's atmosphere congealed. The children exchanged panicked glances until William - his honest face radiating guileless sincerity under Meilani's terrified gaze - blurted out:

"We were good, but... um..."

"Nothing! We didn't do anything!"

"..."

"Hmm?"

Watching her sister's eyes narrow dangerously, Meilani - too slow to cover her mouth - whipped her head around to glare at her dim-witted brother. Finally confessing in dismay:

"Not trouble exactly... Just those nasty Jack and his gang kept saying you... you wouldn't come back this time. We got so mad we... sorta... kinda... pranked them a little..."

"..."

After hearing Meilani's explanation and seeing her sister's pitiful expression, Anna's heart twinged. She reached out to smooth the girl's tousled golden locks.

This mess wasn't entirely the children's fault. If anyone should be blamed, it was herself.

Days before this latest health crisis, she'd already sensed she might not return. She'd quietly approached families in the alley, begging them to maintain the illusion of her survival so her brother could keep receiving her pension.

Jack belonged to one of those very households. The adults must have let it slip during hushed conversations, their whispers intercepted by children's keen ears. The cruel truth had likely surfaced during roughhousing, igniting Meilani's fury.

William, being reserved and mild-mannered, might have silently nursed his anger until her return. But Meilani - that mischievous and slightly vindictive sprite - would never let an insult slide unpunished.

Hmm... If her guess proved right, the little schemer had probably coaxed William into joining her under the pretense of "protecting his sister." Judging by Meilani's evasive demeanor, their "prank" had likely left the neighbors thoroughly harassed these past days.

"You little imp!"

Despite pinching her sister's cheek - softer than a boiled egg's membrane - the frail girl shook her head resignedly. Though tempted to go easy on their frightened state, she hardened her expression.

"Enough tricks! Out with it! What exactly did you rascals do this time?"

"If it's not too terrible, we'll apologize tomorrow. But if it's worse than last time..." Her voice turned steely. "You'll taste the rod tonight - no excuses!"

At Anna's words, Meilani trembled. Her small hands clutched her skirt hem as she stared at the floor, eyes darting like startled sparrows.

"Well... if you say it's not that bad... but actually kinda bad... though not really super bad... mainly... um..."

"Enough waffling! When we shoved horse dung into Jack's mouth, I knew we'd get whupped!"

Yanking his still-protesting sister, little William expertly dropped his trousers, presenting his moon-pale buttocks. Twisting his neck awkwardly, he addressed the stunned sisters with grave sincerity:

"Sis, I calculated. Beat me double last time's amount. For Meilani... maybe quintuple first?"

"I swear... smack! ...you're my karma!"

"You call yourself... thwack! ...a brother? Debt collector!"

"Should've... whap! ...fought you in the womb!"

"Waaaah! Sorry sis! slap! ...go easy... thump! ...don't strain yourself!"

When Léon returned to Veteran's Alley clutching newspaper stacks, he heard the cacophony from blocks away - his youngest sister's wails harmonizing with the crisp percussion of palm meeting posterior.

A gaggle of foul-smelling urchins stood weeping at a distance, clapping tearfully toward the house:

"Sniff... Anna-jie's finally back!"

"Waited ages for this!"

"Three days I've camped here!"

"Live forever, Anna-jie! Only you can tame her!"

"..."

Well... I think I get the picture now...

Léon's face darkened as he spotted remnants of unrinsed horse dung between the teeth of one particularly wretched urchin. Snatching up his newspaper bundle like a shame-faced shield, he scurried toward his front door beneath the disappointed gazes of the neighborhood children.

The rhythmic spank-crack symphony ceased abruptly before he reached the threshold. The door flew open to reveal Anna in her white dress, eyes rimmed red.

"Brother..."

"Inside. Now."

Under the accusatory stares burning his back, Léon steered his sister by the shoulders into the house. The window shutters slammed down with military precision, blocking out prying eyes. Only then did his hunched shoulders relax.

"Waaah! Big Bro I'm sorry!"

No sooner had they entered than Meilani - well-versed in damage control - launched herself at Léon's legs like a barnacle. Dodging Anna's grasping hands with weasel-like agility, the girl rapid-fired her confession between hiccups.

"Perhaps... we'll stop here today?"

Léon sighed, studying Meilani's swollen peach-pit eyes. Resigned to his role as peacemaker, he ventured:

"Shoving horse dung deserves punishment, true. But those brats provoked them first. This wasn't pure mischief..." He gestured at the sniffling girl. "Look at those tears - she's learned her lesson."

"..."

Well... I think I get the picture now...

Léon's face darkened as he spotted remnants of unrinsed horse dung between the teeth of one particularly wretched urchin. Snatching up his newspaper bundle like a shame-faced shield, he scurried toward his front door beneath the disappointed gazes of the neighborhood children.

The rhythmic spank-crack symphony ceased abruptly before he reached the threshold. The door flew open to reveal Anna in her white dress, eyes rimmed red.

"Brother..."

"Inside. Now."

Under the accusatory stares burning his back, Léon steered his sister by the shoulders into the house. The window shutters slammed down with military precision, blocking out prying eyes. Only then did his hunched shoulders relax.

"Waaah! Big Bro I'm sorry!"

No sooner had they entered than Meilani - well-versed in damage control - launched herself at Léon's legs like a barnacle. Dodging Anna's grasping hands with weasel-like agility, the girl rapid-fired her confession between hiccups.

"Perhaps... we'll stop here today?"

Léon sighed, studying Meilani's swollen peach-pit eyes. Resigned to his role as peacemaker, he ventured:

"Shoving horse dung deserves punishment, true. But those brats provoked them first. This wasn't pure mischief..." He gestured at the sniffling girl. "Look at those tears - she's learned her lesson."

"She's nowhere near remorseful!"

Anna swiped at angry tears, watching Meilani orbit Léon while sneaking venomous glances at William.

"Brother! You've no idea! Our family barely scrapes by... surviving on neighbors' goodwill! And this is how we repay them?"

Her finger trembled toward the unrepentant girl. "Don't shield her! Today it's horse dung - tomorrow who knows? If the rod doesn't bite, she'll repeat!"

"Brother, Anna's right."

The unexpected voice came from William, still bent over with crimson buttocks exposed. He twisted sideways with academic seriousness:

"Meilani confided at noon - even knowing the spanking's inevitable, she'd repeat the deed. Just... improve her methodology."

A shudder ran through the room as he continued:

"'Horse dung's bulkier but lacks pungency. Canine excrement proves superior.' Hence yesterday's... collection mission." The boy gestured toward moldering shoes in the corner. "I recommend thorough discipline."

"..."

"..."

"Traitor!!"

Meilani's howl shook dust from rafters. Releasing Léon's leg, she launched herself at William like a feral kitten - only to be intercepted mid-lunge by Anna.

What followed was masterful - the younger sister flipped over knees, britches yanked down, the subsequent spank-crack rhythm outpacing telegraph signals.

"I told you to fight him... Who exactly?" A crisp slap punctuated the question.

"No one! Waaah! Just joking!"

"Just joking? So your 'won't dare again' is another joke?" Another smack rang out.

"Not this time! Ow! This promise's real!"

"Real?" Anna's palm hovered. "Then tomorrow's dog turd experiment is also real? Answer!"

"That's...thwack...not! You're being unfair!"

"..."

Léon massaged his temples. Best leave parenting to Anna. My interference might worsen things.

His gaze drifted from Meilani's throbbing rear to William's mooning posture. Clearing his throat, he suggested:

"Perhaps...pull up your trousers?"

"Unnecessary, Brother!"

The boy shook his head like a seasoned mathematician, fingers counting invisible strikes. "Fifteen swats remaining. Donning pants now would waste effort."

"..."

Forget questioning his calculus. Across the room, Anna's disciplinary campaign showed no signs of ceasefire.

"Fine...don't catch cold..."

Shaking his head at the single-minded logician, Léon gathered yellowed newspaper stacks retreating toward his bedroom.

The original plan involved fresh broadsheets, but empty pockets dictated otherwise. A visit to the Cleanup Bureau secured these aging editions from Emma's archives - their ink-smell mingling with dust and quiet desperation.

Truth was, Léon sought no revelations from newsprint. His aim pulsed clearer - identify the most audacious papers to amplify the water company scandal. Fresh editions mattered less than usable content.

He sank into the three-legged chair, its groans harmonizing with Meilani's sniffles. Yellowed broadsheets fanned across the wobbling desk as his fingers danced between mastheads:

Diagon Gazette. Financial Times. Reveler's Digest. New Industry Herald... All dismissed. Specialized trade reports, no appetite for grassroots issues.

Pictorial News. The Aristocrat. Sun Chronicle followed - the first two steeped in old-money sycophancy, the last's very title reeking of tabloid sewage.

Three contenders remained from the inky carnage: Daily Bulletin. Royal Post. Capital Evening. Léon's nail tapped uncertainly against newsprint when knuckles rapped the doorframe.

William stood framed in doorway, trousers properly fastened yet retaining disciplinary gravitas. A strategic sniff preceded his hands-behind-back diplomacy:

"Meilani's resting. Anna held back - mostly." The boy's chest puffed. "Though now Anna weeps in her room. Perhaps...consolation is warranted?"

Intervention was necessary. Though Anna's condition had stabilized, her recent hospital discharge made emotional distress risky.

Léon ruffled his brother's paradoxically shrewd-yet-simpleton hair - that perplexing blend of naivety and wisdom unique to childhood. Abandoning newsprint fortress, he navigated toward Anna's quarters through the decaying labyrinth of Veterans' Alley.

This creaking relic wasn't their birthright home, but military compensation - partial pension funds converted into four walls older than Léon's lifespan quintupled. Dim light seeped through cracked windows in the ramshackle structure, its layout confessing poverty: a kitchen-living hybrid, two bedrooms (if one could grace them with such title), and conspicuously absent sanitation facilities.

The marginally smaller secondary bedroom remained Léon's domain, while "Anna's room" was communal space she shared with younger siblings.

Skreeeeak

The protesting door hinge announced Léon's entrance. There lay his sister, face buried in threadbare quilts, shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs.

Her chamber mirrored his in miniature - single bed that once accommodated two small bodies now strained against growing limbs. Léon's makeshift solution loomed at bedside: scavenged planks and bricks extending sleeping space, padded with parental remnants. A precarious architecture, its unstable frame whispering threats of collapse with every restless turn.

At that moment, Anna was sprawled across part of the bed, and with each muffled sob, the makeshift half-bed swayed slightly, causing her bottom to jiggle amusingly. This sight made Léon chuckle softly.

"Brother! Why are you laughing?"

Hearing Léon's stifled laughter, Anna grew even more indignant. Rarely showing her temper, she kicked her delicate feet in frustration and then couldn't help but complain, "It's all your fault! When they were causing trouble before, you always stopped me from punishing them! Now they're shoving manure in people's faces, and you can still laugh?"

"Uh…"

Not wanting to explain what he found funny, Léon averted his gaze, scanning the room's decor as he tactfully replied, "I just think that merely spanking them might not suffice; they need to understand why they're being punished. Otherwise, they might think mischief is acceptable as long as they don't get caught. Just look at William—after he gets spanked for causing trouble, he's already figured out the ropes. So, it's essential to teach them the right way."

"But they only listen to reason after they've been punished!"

Anna, who was usually gentle and seldom voiced her opinions in front of Léon, was particularly adamant when it came to educating her younger siblings. Wiping her tears with the back of her hand and stopping her sobs, she turned back, pouting defiantly as she argued, "You don't spend enough time with them, so you have no idea how infuriating they can be!"

"Melanie knows right from wrong—she just thinks cunning shortcuts can bypass consequences! William's more troubling. Though not actively mischievous, his mind works in bizarre ways, like... like..."

The ailing girl faltered, fists pounding the unstable bedframe when words failed to capture her brother's peculiar logic. "They need discipline! Now, before it's too late!"

"Absolutely. Next time, I won't interfere," Léon murmured, settling beside her. His palm traced comforting circles on her back as his voice softened. "But consider this—their mischief often stems from defending our family. Let me recall..."

Memory shadows crossed his face. "This time, someone claimed you'd never return. Last month, a child called William 'fatherless trash' during games. Before that, they stopped that bully Jack. Then when I got fired from dock work for being weak... And earlier, when neighbors called you 'consumptive wretch' over night coughs..."

With each revelation, siblings' faces tightened. What once seemed mere naughtiness now revealed desperate pattern: two children weaponizing chaos to shield their fragile household.

If only I—as their elder brother—had been stronger back then, shielding them more from life's cruelties, maybe those two wouldn't need to be so "mischievous." They could've simply been carefree, innocent children...

"Let's not dwell on this now."

Noticing the glistening tears in his sister's eyes and realizing his efforts to console were worsening things, Léon quickly changed the subject. He reached for a yellowed photo album from the bedside shelf, wrapping an arm around Anna's slender shoulders. "Once I'm confirmed in my police bureau position by year-end, we can enroll William and the others tuition-free. No more street brawls. Let the past stay past—our family's future will brighten..."

He paused, then added softly, "Remember? Last time we looked through this album was during my high fever two years ago. It's still early—if you're feeling up to it, let's revisit it together?"

"Mmm..."

Leaning into Léon's gentle pull, Anna rested her head against his shoulder. Her red-rimmed eyes gazed at the album as she tenderly traced its worn cardboard cover before opening it with care.

"This was Mother in her youth," she whispered, pointing to a faded group photo featuring a striking woman in military uniform whose eyes mirrored Léon's. "When I was little... when we were little, she told us this was taken after she entered the Mechanical Engineers' Academy, assigned to artillery calibration. And this here is Father..."

Anna's soft fingertip rose to tap the photo's edge, indicating a tall, handsome man with gentle dark eyes standing in the back row. "Father and Mother were classmates. After graduation, they got drafted into the same military unit... grew closer... then came you," she whispered, "and me the following year..."

As Anna turned the album pages with deliberate care, Léon watched strangers become lovers through faded snapshots—military uniforms evolving into bridal attire, culminating in a tearful embrace within a humble chapel. The frozen joy, though yellowed with age, radiated warmth that momentarily dispelled reality's chill.

Was Anna truly this vibrant as a child?

His fingers brushed the gilded curls of a beaming girl in later photos. This laughter-filled version contrasted painfully with his memories of her—frail smiles stifling coughs, brows perpetually furrowed. What malignancy had stolen such radiance?

The album neared its end before Melanie's era even began. No words were needed as the truth crystallized: life's relentless erosion had bleached color from their world long before winter came.

"Um... I just remembered, there are still some work-related tasks I haven't finished!" Knowing all too well the cruel fate that awaited the seemingly perfect family in the album, Lyon's body tensed slightly. Regretting his foolish idea of looking at the album, he felt a pang of guilt as he said to Anna, "Shall we stop here for now? You seem tired; it's better to get some rest early."

"Mm..." The slender girl softly replied, seemingly oblivious to Lyon's unease. She simply closed the album in her hands, smiling gently as she nodded.

However, after Lyon hurriedly left, she did not get up. Instead, she reopened the heavy old album and slowly flipped to the last page.

On the already yellowed back cover of the album, in the spot reserved for the most important photo, there was a torn old picture. It appeared that the person who had torn the photo had done so with great force, even crumpling the pieces, resulting in many cracks that were curling up. Despite some attempts at careful handling, the photo could not be completely flattened, and the faces of the people were far from whole.

In this strange photo, the couple who had appeared many times earlier in the album, now deceased for a full six years, still smiled happily at the camera, embracing beneath a sign that read "Family Portrait" in elegant cursive.

However, in front of them stood not four siblings—two boys and two girls—but only a child of about eight or nine years old. The child held the hands of both parents, beaming a smile of pure happiness at the camera.

Reaching out, Anna touched the boy's face in the photo, pressing down on the curled edges of the cracks until they smoothed out, revealing the child's bright golden hair that matched her mother's. As she gazed at the unfamiliar smile on the girl's face in the photo, Anna couldn't help but bite her lip in surprise.

Immediately after, she seemed to have made a firm decision. With her nails, she scraped off the glued fragments of the photo, one by one, and then searched the room for a matchbox and a small bucket, tossing all the pieces into the iron bucket.

Reluctantly turning her head away, Anna struck a match, lit a piece of cotton wool, and dropped it into the bucket, watching as the last photo of her parents and herself was reduced to black ash at the bottom of the bucket!

...

Um... it seems I forgot to do something yesterday.

Unaware of what had transpired after he left the previous night, Leon, a workaholic with no holidays, climbed out of his small bed just as dawn was breaking.

After checking the scrap paper he used as a memo, he realized with some regret that he had left early the day before, worried about reminding Anna of sad memories, and had completely forgotten to confirm his birthday with her.

At this hour... she and William should still be asleep, right? I guess I'll just wait until tonight to ask!

Glancing at the still-dark master bedroom, Leon shook his head, abandoning the idea of asking now. Instead, he carefully took a stack of old newspapers and quietly left the house, walking under the stars on his way to work.

Hmm? Where's the coffee stand?

When he reached the spot he had been to a few days ago, Leon was surprised to find that even though the temperature was perfect for the coffee stand to open, the merchant named after Charles's department store was nowhere to be seen today.

After wandering around the two nearby streets without catching sight of Old Charles, Leon finally gave up on the promised half-price coffee, his face falling as he walked toward another small stand across the street, ordering the cheapest cup of coffee available.

Admittedly, while Old Charles's coffee stall was notoriously overpriced and stingy with portions, its "customer experience" was truly top-tier—unmatched by any other vendor. Though this new stand offered generous servings, it simply lacked the distinct charm of Old Charles's place.

With a sigh of resignation, Leon gulped down the scalding coffee in a few hurried sips. Just as he was about to leave, he spotted a vaguely familiar face at the neighboring table.

That guy… isn't he one of Old Charles's regulars too?

After confirming he hadn't mistaken the man's face, Leon hesitated briefly before striding over.

"Excuse me, sorry to bother you—"

Before Leon could finish his question, the regular's eyes lit up in recognition. Raising his eyebrows, the man cut in first: "Well, if it isn't Old Charles's future son-in-law!"

???

What? I've only bought coffee from him a few times—and paid every time! How did I end up as his "son-in-law"?

Seeing Leon's baffled expression, the fifty-something regular chuckled. He briefly explained the origin of the nickname, then asked with a grin, "You came to ask why Old Charles isn't here today, right? I actually know the reason!"

Waving for Leon to sit, the man continued: "I ran into him last night. His wife partnered with someone for a business deal but fell into a trap they set together. Lost a lot of money, apparently. She was so furious she collapsed on the spot."

"Luckily, his wife was rescued by a kind young passerby and didn't suffer anything serious, but she'll probably need to rest for at least half a month. Old Charles told me he's staying home to care for her and seek justice from those scoundrels. No way he'll reopen his stall these days."

"…"

A business deal… a trap… huge losses… collapsing in anger… saved by a passerby… why does this sound so familiar?

After hearing about the other "Mrs. Charles's" ordeal, Leon awkwardly scratched the back of his head, struck by the absurdity of the coincidence.

Let's be real—if breaking into the hydro company to steal documents counts as "passing by," then these two Mrs. Charles situations are practically identical.

As for whether the two Mrs. Charles could be the same person, or whether the Old Charles selling coffee on the street might actually bethe Charles of Charles's Department Store…

No way that's possible!

The mere thought of such an outrageous twist made Leon smirk, mentally berating himself.

Oh sure, you meet a coffee vendor who's secretly one of the capital's top three tycoons. Then, during a work assignment yesterday, you coincidentally save his wife's life. Now this morning, people claim he wants to make you his heir and son-in-law, inheriting his empire of department stores…

Cut the crap! You think you're the protagonist of some story?