I, the Reality Janitor!

After chatting for a while with the regulars at Old Charle's coffee stand, Léon, who had almost become the son-in-law of a wealthy family, finally braved the autumn chill, curling up his hands and feet, and made his way to work.

We can only say that the difficulty of transitioning from luxury to frugality manifests not only on a spiritual level but also physically. In his former life, Léon would have risen early, even in the harshest winter that could freeze one's face blue, to seek out work. The chill of late autumn would have seemed trivial to him.

However, after becoming accustomed to the warm little tent filled with sweet aromas, the mere absence of a cozy fire made him shiver as he hurried along, breaking into a jog. It wasn't until he reached the vicinity of the Clean-Up Bureau's building that he finally stopped, panting heavily.

"Not bad, not bad, looking quite energetic!"

From the window of the first-floor office, the red-haired woman, holding a cup of hot water, pushed open the half-closed window. Leaning gracefully over the windowsill, she smiled at Léon, her figure curvy and alluring, and waved at him with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Little Léon, how's the investigation into the Hydropower Company going? Did you find any 'anomalies'?"

"…"

Although Léon knew she was teasing him and that she was not asking about any unusual findings but rather if he had successfully gathered evidence of the Hydropower Company's violations, he couldn't help but hesitate for a moment when he thought of that blonde middle-aged man from the Ryan family who had dealt with the heart of a black goat.

"Hmm?"

Catching Léon's slight pause, the red-haired director's smile faded a little, and she asked, somewhat surprised, "Is there really a trace of anomalies at the Hydropower Company?"

"…"

"You guessed it... But while there is an anomaly there, it's not the cause of the mass illnesses. It's one of the seven lost visceral parts from the Black Goat's 'epic explosion' back then."

Though the Black Goat was now diminished, it had once been a grand demon. As a new recruit, would the Clean-Up Bureau really allow him to retain two dangerous demonic anomalies simultaneously?

"Hmm???"

Noticing Léon's subtle hesitation again, the red-haired director not only lost her smile but instinctively narrowed her eyes.

"Are you hesitating to report to me? So this anomaly is special... useful to you... but uncertain to be approved if reported?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Let me think... Could the anomaly you found at the Hydropower Company be one of the other body parts that damned goat lost years ago?"

"..."

Wait—I haven't even said a word!

Léon fell into his third silence, watching this woman who had pieced together 90% of the truth from mere milliseconds of hesitation. This was beyond absurd... Did she possess some mind-reading anomaly?

"Relax, I don't have telepathy."

Oh, so you don't have telepathy? Then I can finally—bullshit! If you can hear my thoughts, how can you claim—?!

Seeing Léon visibly startled and wary outside the window, the director chuckled softly.

"No lies—I truly don't have telepathy."

Placing her steaming cup on the windowsill, she rested her cheek in her palm and explained with amusement:

"Back in the day, I often played hide-and-seek with the infiltrators hidden among ordinary people. I had grown accustomed to judging others based on their expressions and behaviors. But you, on the other hand, wear your emotions on your sleeve, which is why I happened to guess right a few times in a row."

"…"

I can't believe a word of that!

Leon truly didn't believe a single word of the red-haired director's explanation. Although he wasn't particularly deep or mysterious, he rarely displayed his emotions openly. The neighbors in Veteran's Alley often described him as a taciturn person. There was no way she could guess him correctly so many times! She must be pulling his leg!

"I'm serious! I'm not lying. Your expressions may be few, but your eyes are brimming with thoughts!"

Glancing at Leon, who was trying hard to maintain a stoic face despite the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, the red-haired director smiled slightly and pointed a finger at his eyes from a distance. "For example, right now… your eyes reveal your frustration at being seen through by me, your wariness and skepticism about whether I can really read minds, and your relief and calmness at the thought that you don't need to hide anything from me… Oh, and a hint of suppressed desire as well."

After glancing down at her slightly open collar, revealing a glimpse of smooth skin, the red-haired director covered it up and lazily stretched her body. With a playful smile, she beckoned Leon over with a finger.

"Come to my office. We need to have a good chat."

"…"

…

"I see… So the heart of that dead sheep is actually with the Ryan family."

After a straightforward conversation with Leon about his findings at the hydropower company, the red-haired director nodded in realization. Without hesitation, she assigned him a new task.

"We can't ignore something of this magnitude. We need to infiltrate for investigation. As for the pretext..."

The red-haired director's eyes lit up as she studied Léon's face, then proposed with a sly smile:

"Family reunion?"

"Family reunion?"

"Exactly! Since you share the Ryan surname, isn't that the perfect cover?"

Facing the bewildered young man, she continued cheerfully:

"Present our Bureau credentials at their doorstep. Claim potential lineage from their house. With your status as a junior civil officer at sixteen? Even the legendary Lionheart Dukes wouldn't turn away such promising talent."

"But my hair isn't golden..."

"Tsk! Hair's easily fixed with dye!"

"I was planning to report them though..."

"Reporting and blood-ties are separate matters! They don't conflict!"

"..."

"If you truly refuse, I could assign alternative missions."

Seeing Léon's reluctance, the suddenly stern director produced a stack of files from her desk, fanning them across the wood with a swish.

"Blood rain in Beaufort Woods – two weeks straight. Thousands of animals died of thirst near water sources."

"A five-meter beast ravaging Adolf Manor. Multiple casualties reported."

"Mass shipwrecks at Ryan County's oceanic port. Suspected attack by sea-tribe marauders."

"Coal mines collapsing across Murky Valley. Possibly hollowed by tens of thousands of sand-worms."

"These are your feasible options. Choose."

"..."

Bizarre blood rains, five-meter-tall behemoths, underwater sea-dwellers, mountain-devouring sand-worms...

Leon clicked his tongue in exasperation before "voluntarily" conceding:

"Fine. I'll go play the family reunion card."

As the red-haired director stuffed a stack of "COMPLETED" mission files back into her drawer, she explained with a sly grin:

"Don't mistake this as coercion! Our Bureau's golden rule is matching agents to missions that suit their talents.

Take Emma – her immortal constitution makes her perfect for missions involving physical destruction. That giant beast reported at Adolf Manor? That's precisely her... domain. No spiritual entities involved.

You? With your ability to glean intel from anomalous objects through touch, plus that dead ram helping you read souls and detect lies? You're practically forged for investigative work! Who else should I send?"

"..."

Fair point.

Leon nodded reluctantly, reviewing his skills. Compared to blood deluges or skyscraper-sized monsters, investigation missions did suit his current abilities best. Even if the family reunion went south, he could probably escape unscathed...

Couldn't he?

The memory of the Black Goat's frenzied reaction upon locating its heart resurfaced. Hesitating, he voiced his concern:

"Director, I'm not refusing the mission. But if that [Heart], like the [Diagonal], senses other fragments' presence... and if it's controlling the Ryans... I might get surrounded. Escape isn't guaranteed."

"The wrist still doesn't feel very safe; I might accidentally touch it."

After shaking his head to refuse Léon's suggestion, the red-haired director stepped a bit closer, then reached out to hook her fingers around the nape of Léon's neck, pulling him toward her chest.

"Lower your head; I'll tie my hair directly around your neck."

"Uh... alright…"

As he noticed the soft curves of her figure so close to his nose, Léon felt his ears heat up slightly. He hurriedly shut his eyes, arched his back a little, and stiffened his neck, waiting for the director to tie her hair. However…

"Lower your head a bit more; I can't reach."

Hearing the sultry voice close to his ear made Léon's heart race. Blood rushed uncontrollably to his ears, and he could almost hear the rapid flow of his heartbeat echoing in his head. Lower… if he lowered any further, he would be completely immersed!

He had sneaked a glance earlier before entering the building, but that was merely an accident—almost instinctual—and he had politely averted his gaze right away. But if he accepted the director's invitation now and buried his head in her chest, it would definitely confirm him as a lecher, and no amount of washing would clear his name.

With a slight clench of his fists, Léon awkwardly reminded her, "Uh... I don't think it's very convenient for me to lower my head. How about you tiptoe instead?"

"What do I need to tiptoe for?"

Seemingly a bit impatient, the red-haired director urged him repeatedly, "It's clearly something you can do just by bending down! Why do I have to tiptoe? Hurry up!"

"…"

Although he hadn't intended to take advantage of the situation, given that he had already hinted at it, he thought… maybe he should remind her again.

To make her understand the awkwardness of bowing further, Léon—eyes still shut—inhaled sharply and exhaled through his nose with force.

"Hey!"

A breathy, half-irate gasp followed, but instead of retreating footsteps, the red-haired director's chiding voice rang out again:

"Why are you blowing on my chest? Stop fooling around! Lower your head already! I've got work to do!"

"..."

Damn... I tried.

"There! That's better!"

Watching Léon reluctantly bow his head, the director nodded approvingly before promptly demanding:

"Did you even move a millimeter? Keep going!"

"..."

"Lower. Still not enough."

"..."

"Lower! LOWER!"

"..."

How much lower?! I'm bent at a 90-degree angle! Even a damn Pekingese standing on hind legs could reach you by now!

This isn't about bending—she's clearly messing with me...

Exasperated, Léon finally opened his eyes. As expected, his view wasn't of... certain things... but the worn wooden floor of the director's office.

The crimson-haired beauty who'd been in front of him moments ago was now seated behind her desk, sipping tea daintily while cheerfully calling out, "Lower! Loooower!"

"..."

"Aw, don't sulk~"

Noticing Léon's darkened expression, the director set down her cup, leaning back in her chair with a playful smile:

"You hid the Sheep Heart incident from me, then peeked when my clothes slipped. I didn't get angry then. Now I've just teased you a little—you're not allowed to be upset!"

"Ah~ Don't move. Let me tie your hair first."

With a flick of her index finger, she traced an invisible circle in the air, guiding her hair to wrap around Léon's neck before securing it with a delicate bow. The red-haired director smiled approvingly:

"Good~ You kept your eyes closed this whole time, didn't peek once—even when you had the perfect excuse. I can trust you to keep your promises now."

"Remember: this hair around your neck is my chest. I won't mind if you glance accidentally… but if you dare touch it with your hands…" Her tone sharpened playfully, "…you'll regret it."

After being half-tested and half-teased, Léon glared at her, silently agreeing with the Black Goat's assessment of her character.

When she has alcohol, she's a raging drunk. When sober, she's a master prankster—either embarrassing herself for others' amusement or scheming to embarrass everyone else. Never a dull moment.

Wait… her office has been oddly clean lately. Where are all the empty bottles?

…

Is he… looking for my liquor empties?

Noticing Léon's searching glances behind her desk, memories of their last debt-inducing drinking spree flashed through her mind. The director's grip tightened on her cup, her smile turning edged as she purred:

"What? Still lingering after failing to get what you wanted?"

"Uh… You're joking. I just… have more questions."

After hearing her words, Léon snapped back to reality. Clenching his fists discreetly, he asked with a serious expression, "If it's confirmed that the heart of the black goat is with the Ryan family, would I have a chance to gain usage rights to the heart after we complete the task and retrieve it?"

"Hmm… that's hard to say; it really depends on your luck. If the anomaly isn't something you recovered yourself, you'll have to check if there are others of a higher rank than you who want to contest for it. Let me put it this way!"

The red-haired director pondered for a moment, then picked up a fountain pen from the desk. She found a blank side of a used document and swiftly drew five circles from top to bottom.

"If these five circles represent the ranks within our cleanup agency, the one at the top is for the director and the twelve board members."

"While the director is technically half a rank higher than the twelve board members, if more than half of the board reaches a consensus, they can veto the director's proposals. If they achieve a three-quarters majority, they can even dismiss him. So, the director and the board members are considered to be roughly at the same level."

She moved the pen down a bit, poking the second circle and leaving a large ink blot, before continuing her explanation:

"Next, we have the 87 sub-bureaus. You should know what the zodiac constellations are, right? The twelve zodiac constellation sub-bureaus are considered major bureaus, while the other 75 are minor ones. Generally, the major bureau directors are stronger and hold a higher position than the minor bureau directors, but they are still considered to be at roughly the same level.

Apart from the first-level board members and the second-level bureau directors, the remaining three circles represent you all – the first, second, and third-level anomaly handlers."

With a flourish of her pen, the red-haired director wrote "I" inside the third circle before explaining brightly:

"First are the Class-I Disaster Controllers. Those assigned to this tier are typically ace agents from each bureau – elites capable of leading teams to handle large-scale catastrophes."

"When vacancies arise among the 75 minor bureau directors, the most outstanding of these aces can immediately fill those positions with board approval. Emma's currently at this level."

Senior Emma… an ace agent?

Hearing the familiar name, Léon blinked in surprise, feeling the odd dissonance of "my childhood classmate is now a TV celebrity."

His impression of Emma had always been that of a cautious, gentle mentor – hardly matching this image of a top operative. After all, their first mission together had nearly ended in disaster…

"Little Léon~ You don't think Emma's weak, do you?" The director tapped the "I" in the circle with her pen tip, amusement dancing in her eyes as if reading his thoughts:

"The hospital incident went sideways because, first, we were facing an actual deity. Its fundamental hierarchy was too elevated, and she got infected first while touching the core rules of its power, rendering her anomalies ineffective."

"Second, her primary anomalies are too bulky – they don't fit in standard issue containment boxes. She keeps them stacked in her office unless specifically needed." Her pen punctuated the air. "During that hospital mission? She wasn't operating at even 1% capacity."

"Now here's the plan – since you've got that forced-intel-extraction ability anyway…" Leaning forward conspiratorially, she grinned: "When she returns, have her show you her treasures. All your doubts about her Class-I status will vanish."

"Her entire office... is filled with anomalies?!"

Léon's pupils contracted sharply as the red-haired director's explanation triggered his memory of glimpsing Senior Emma's office through its window.

Bandages, coffins, nail boards, scrapers, skull-crushers, crucifixes, iron maidens, execution platforms, skeletal specimens, scythes with curved handles... Even if not fifty items, there must have been thirty or forty of those things!

And in the office corners were several old trunks occasionally emitting strange noises – who knew how many smaller objects they could contain? Holy hell! How many anomalies does Senior Emma actually possess?

"I knew that would shock you!"

The red-haired director smirked in satisfaction at Léon's stunned expression, her mischievous grin widening as she continued:

"As for the remaining Class-II Crisis Responders and Class-III Incident Handlers... consider them senior staff and regular employees respectively."

"Per Cleanup Bureau regulations, a team of one senior and five regular members can handle regional crises below certain threat levels. Though you," she tapped her pen rhythmically on the desk, "won't get such group mission opportunities."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Though we're classified as a major bureau, my past... decisions caused over half the staff to leave." She gestured vaguely upward. "Haven't you noticed most first-floor offices are empty? We can't even form basic teams anymore."

Shrugging helplessly, the director took a long swig from her water bottle – Léon could've sworn she momentarily glanced at a liquor cabinet – before sighing:

"We still retain two 'Class-I' ace agents. But the Class-II and III personnel?" Her voice dropped bitterly. "Combined, they number fewer than ten."

"To be precise," the red-haired director amended, swirling her drink, "we have nine Class-II Crisis Responders and one Class-III Incident Handler remaining."

Nine Class-II and one Class-III... So I'm the only junior staff left?!

By this point, Léon had completely forgotten his original questions. "Our bureau has seven freaking floors!" he blurted, exasperation dripping from every word. "You managed to scare off enough people to empty six whole levels! Director, what in the world did you do back then?"

"Merely what my position required," she replied, gaze shifting to the withered willow beyond the window. Her tone held the calm of weathered stone. "Though perhaps... executed with a severity others found difficult to accept. And you're mistaken about one thing."

The afternoon light caught the dust motes around her as she continued: "The upper six floors aren't empty. They're presently occupied by my anomalies."