Chapter 45: Solo Cleaning, Part 4: The Silence of the Graves (And the Goodest Boy)

If the Caverns of Wailing had been a mere exercise in chemical cleaning, the Crypt of Putrid Whispers represented the true academic challenge for a sanitation professional. This was a subterranean mausoleum, a cursed graveyard reserved for the worst sinners, bloodthirsty warlords, and forgotten tyrants of Aethelgard history.

Here, the problem wasn't physical, tangible dirt: it was spiritual filth.

The very air of the Crypt didn't just smell; the air actively screamed. Ethereal spirits, poltergeists, and banshees haunted the corridors, and their eternal wailing, heavy with agony and despair, was enough to drive a normal man to madness within minutes, considering that noise-cancelling headphones didn't exist in a fantasy world.

The ground was slick, coated in a cold, viscous, and sticky layer of translucent ectoplasm, and the temperature was constantly well below freezing.

When Larry stepped through the portal and entered the Crypt, the temperature plummeted even further, but it wasn't because of the ghosts' freezing aura. It was because of the chilling, absolute, and ruthless aura of legal bureaucracy radiating from Ugo.

But this time, Ugo and Larry were not alone.

Mordecai had received a notification from the System stating that an inspector from the Higher realms wanted to see everything in 'first-person'. Our beloved necromancer couldn't say no, since the notification was purely for aesthetics. He didn't have any decision-making power on that.

Hovering just a few feet away from Ugo’s massive, floating eyeball was a translucent, shimmering projection of a surprisingly well-dressed figure.

He wore the noble, slightly exaggerated attire of an ancient era, complete with a spectral monocle wedged over his right eye, a top hat, and a bucket of ethereal popcorn in his hands. A glowing, golden VIP nameplate floated above his head: [LORD DIBBS57 - PREMIUM FRONT-ROW STREAMER].

[Dibbs57] was a denizen of the Higher Realms, a viewer who had paid an exorbitant amount of premium currency to unlock the "Avatar Projection" feature, allowing him to physically spectate the events of the lower worlds in real-time, completely immune to the dungeon's hazards.

"Oh man, the immersion here is incredible!" [Dibbs57] cheered, tossing a piece of spectral popcorn into his mouth. "I can literally smell the mold! Thanks for letting me tag along, Ugo. I wouldn't miss the Aldmax's janitor in action for all the gold in the server."

"Ravenloft Holdings values its premium investors, Lord Dibbs57," Ugo replied smoothly, adjusting his spectral operator headset. "Please, enjoy the demonstration of our Extreme Tactical Sanitization."

The moment they set foot in the main corridor, the dungeon reacted. A massive Level 60 Banshee swooped down from the vaulted ceiling. Her spectral hair floated like tentacles, and her jaw unhinged unnaturally, ready to unleash a sonic scream of pure terror.

"LEAAAAAAAAVE... YOU SHALL SUFFER ETERNAL AGONYYYYYY—"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" Ugo's voice tore through the freezing air like a judge's gavel slamming onto a solid wooden block. The Banshee froze mid-scream, comically choking on her own ectoplasm.

While Ugo moved forward to deliver his corporate monologue while Larry ignored the apocalyptic threat. The skeletal janitor was entirely focused on the floor.

A lesser ghost, a floating torso with a decaying face, tried to jump-scare Larry by phasing out of a pillar right in front of him, screaming bloody murder.

Larry didn't even flinch; he just looked at the ghost, gave it a cheerful thumbs-up 👍, and casually wiped a smudge of ectoplasm off the ghost's cheek with his microfiber rag before walking past it. The ghost was so baffled that it just slowly floated back into the pillar in sheer embarrassment.

Larry then found a massive pile of ancient adventurer remains. Instead of being intimidated, he saw clutter. He began to gather the loot with the casual indifference of someone picking up trash in a park.

He picked up a legendary, glowing broadsword—the [Crimson Blade of the Sun Emperor]—examined its edge, used it to scrape a piece of ancient, petrified chewing gum off the sole of his rubber boot, and then tossed it carelessly into his trash bag.

Next, he picked up a piece of 'Mythic Female Armor' which consisted entirely of a metal bikini top and a reinforced thong. Larry stared at it, his skull tilting in profound confusion, probably thinking how this could protect vital organs, before letting out a soft scrik of disappointment and tossing it in the "Recycling" bin.

Meanwhile, Ugo was busy unfurling a massive, glowing parchment. "To the attention of the residents, haunters, and presumed tenants of the Crypt of Putrid Whispers! You are hereby formally served with a Class-A Legal Injunction for extreme noise pollution, violation of municipal quiet hours, and the unlicensed, hazardous discharge of ectoplasmic waste without proper environmental permits!"

"Furthermore," Ugo continued, mercilessly, "Ravenloft Holdings has officially acquired the mortgage for this crypt from the Kingdom's abandoned property registry, utilizing the adverse possession clause due to gross lack of maintenance. You are all, technically speaking, squatters. You have exactly two legal options at your disposal: cease and desist all wailing, groaning, or putrid whispering immediately, or face an immediate eviction notice, followed by a multi-million gold coin lawsuit in the Abyssal Courts for the last three hundred years of back-rent, calculated with late fees!"

The Banshee, indignant, tried to argue back. "We are the damned! Our suffering is eternal, and our duty is to terrori—"

Ugo snapped his spectral fingers. A blue magical seal, shaped like a heavy iron padlock, materialized with a sharp clack directly over the Banshee's mouth, locking it shut.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: GAG ORDER APPLIED. MAGICAL SILENCE ENFORCED VIA CORPORATE LEGAL LOOPHOLE.]

The entire crypt plunged into a deafening, embarrassing, and incredibly peaceful silence as the ghosts realized they had been legally outmaneuvered.

[Dibbs57] burst into roaring, booming laughter, clutching his ethereal stomach. "Wait, wait! Did the ghosts just get sued?! Evicted for unpaid rent and noise pollution?! I love it, man, honestly! This is the most brilliant thing I've seen! Absolute peak fiction!"

"We aim to please, My Lord," Ugo said, bowing his giant eye.

With the noise complaint resolved, Larry got to work. He unhooked a heavy, cylindrical machine from his back: the [DIMENSIONAL VACUUM CLEANER: SOUL-SUCKER 3000].

VVRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUM!

Larry flipped the switch, generating a vortex of magical suction that ripped the sticky ectoplasm right off the walls, floors, and stone sarcophagi. Whenever a ghost tried to block his path, Larry pointed the nozzle at them, vacuuming away their outer layers of scary mist until they looked like naked, embarrassed, tiny crib sheets.

As Larry was vacuuming a particularly stubborn patch of ghoul-grime in a side chamber, a figure suddenly leaped out from behind a tomb.

It was a young, human adventurer. He was wearing cheap, dented leather armor, and his face was pale with absolute, mind-shattering terror. He had clearly been trapped in the Crypt for days, driven half-mad by the wailing. Seeing a skeleton approaching with a roaring, soul-sucking machine, the boy's survival instincts kicked in (poorly).

"DIE, MONSTER!" the young adventurer screamed, swinging his rusted iron shortsword at Larry's skull with all his remaining strength.

CLONK.

The sword bounced off Larry's skull, vibrating so violently that the boy dropped it with a yelp of pain. Larry slowly turned his head. His glowing violet eye sockets blinked.

He then looked at the boy, who was now trembling like a leaf, waiting for his gruesome demise.

Larry simply raised his hand, gave the boy a friendly thumbs-up 👍, and turned back to vacuuming the floor.

The boy blinked, completely dumbfounded. "Maybe... all my prayers... have been listened...! I'm coming back for you, Mother! I won't run ever again!" He said, realizing that staying close to this invincible, cleaning skeleton was his only chance of survival. So, the young adventurer began to follow Larry like a lost duckling.

For ten minutes, they walked in peace. But then, curiosity—the fatal flaw of all low-level adventurers—took over.

Larry had briefly set down his utility bag to mop a stain. Peeking out from the top of the bag was Larry’s most prized possession: the bundle of perfectly polished, gleaming silver spoons he had collected for Mordecai.

"Oooh, shiny loot..." the young adventurer muttered. He reached out and placed his dirty, sweaty, grime-covered hand directly onto one of the pristine spoons.

Larry stopped mopping. The entire room seemed to drop ten degrees in temperature.

Slowly, the skeletal janitor turned around. The friendly, glowing violet lights in his eye sockets flared into a terrifying, blood-red crimson. A dark, menacing aura erupted from Larry’s bony frame. Those spoons were for the Master. They were sacred. And this filthy biological entity had just contaminated them.

Larry raised his mop handle, his intentions clear: he was going to scrub and sanitize this boy out of existence.

"A-Ah! S-Sorry! I didn't mean to!" The young adventurer panicked, his eyes wide with horror as he realized he had aggroed the apex predator of hygiene.

He took a step backward, intending to run. His heel caught on a loose piece of cobblestone. He flailed his arms wildly, lost his balance, and fell straight backward.

CRACK.

The back of the boy's head hit the sharp edge of a stone sarcophagus with sickening finality. His eyes rolled back, his body went limp, and his HP bar instantly dropped to zero. He had died entirely by accident, slain by his own clumsiness.

Larry lowered his mop. The red glow in his eyes faded back to violet. He stared at the corpse for a few seconds.

Scrik scrik. Larry shook his head slowly and gave the corpse a disappointed thumbs-down 👎.

"Oh my god, did he just die to fall damage?!" [Dibbs57] cackled, floating over to inspect the body. "That is the most pathetic adventurer death I have ever seen! Ten out of ten comedy!"

"A tragic lack of spatial awareness," Ugo noted dryly. "Larry, do not leave biological refuse on the floor. Place the corpse in your Void Inventory. Lord Dibbs57 expressed an interest in viewing a live demonstration of Necromancy later. The CEO might find this specimen useful for raising a new intern."

Larry scratched his skull, clearly not understanding the complex concept of necromancy or corporate internships. But an order was an order, so he just gave a thumbs-up 👍, opened a small, swirling black void in the air, and casually kicked the dead adventurer into the abyss before returning to his cleaning duties.

Ten minutes later, deep in the eastern wing of the Crypt, Larry encountered another anomaly.

He was polishing the brass handles of an ancient tomb when he heard heavy, ragged breathing. Tucked away in a dark alcove, shivering violently and clutching a broken spear, was another trapped adventurer.

Larry paused. He gave his signature friendly wave and a thumbs-up 👍.

The figure gasped, scrambling backward into the shadows, pressing themselves against the cold stone in absolute terror.

Normally, Larry would ignore fleeing humans, but his glowing violet eyes narrowed as his optical sensors registered something unacceptable.

The adventurer was absolutely covered in blood, mud, cobwebs, and toxic monster viscera. They were a walking biohazard. They were dirty.

Larry’s cleaning OCD engaged immediately. He couldn't leave a stain unattended.

Larry lunged forward with terrifying speed. The adventurer screamed, trying to stab him, but Larry batted the spear away effortlessly. He grabbed the adventurer by the collar and unleashed his ultimate close-quarters technique.

It was a high-speed, magical car wash. Larry scrubbed, sprayed, wiped, and polished the adventurer in a blur of soapy violence. In exactly 4.2 seconds, Larry stepped back, admiring his work.

The grime and blood had been completely eradicated, revealing the adventurer underneath.

It was a girl. She was stunningly beautiful, with fiery red hair tied in a short, practical ponytail, sharp azure eyes, and an incredibly athletic, tomboyish physique that her leather armor did little to hide. She sat on the floor, perfectly spotless and smelling of spring rain, blinking in absolute shock.

"Hold the phone," [Dibbs57] gasped, nearly dropping his spectral popcorn. "Zoom in, Ugo! Enhance!"

Ugo’s massive eye focused on the girl.

"I know her!" [Dibbs57] shouted, pulling up a floating wiki page from the Higher Realms. "That’s Regel! She’s the twin sister of Egel, the martial artist in Nick’s party! The lore says Nick abandoned her in a high-level dungeon because she got severely injured, and her character design wasn't scoring high enough on his popularity polls to justify using a Phoenix Down! He literally left her to die for clout!"

"A blatant violation of party cohesion protocols," Ugo stated, his voice laced with corporate disgust.

"She’s top-tier Waifu potential, Ugo! We cannot let her die here! Mordecai needs more competent staff!" [Dibbs57] declared passionately.

"Agreed," Ugo said. "Larry. Directive override. That biological entity is now classified as a High-Value Corporate Asset. You are to protect her at all costs."

Larry looked at the girl. She was trembling, looking at the skeleton with a mix of awe and lingering fear. She was defenseless, her spear broken.

Larry felt a strange, unprecedented sensation in his hollow chest, probably a glitch in his programming.

He reached into his utility bag and bypassed his mop, his bleach, and his vacuum. He then pulled out one of his prized, gleaming, perfectly clean silver spoons.

He knelt down, grabbed Regel's trembling hand, and gently placed the spoon into her palm. Then, with surprising tenderness, Larry raised his rubber-gloved hand and gave her two gentle pat-pats on top of her red hair.

"Oh? What is happening here? It looks like a father with his child!" [Dibbs57] exclaimed.

"My Lord, it seems like Larry is evolving." Ugo said.

Regel's eyes widened. The moment her fingers closed around the spoon, a wave of warm, pure, comforting energy washed over her. The deep lacerations on her arms closed. The bruising on her face vanished. Her stamina bar instantly refilled to maximum. The spoon wasn't just clean; it had absorbed the ambient holy mana from Larry's obsessive purification routine. It was a makeshift artifact of healing.

"Y-You... you saved me?" Regel whispered, staring at the spoon, then up at the skeleton. "Why?"

Larry just gave her a thumbs-up 👍, turned around, and went back to sweeping the corridor.

For the rest of the dungeon, clear, Regel followed Larry. She didn't know who this skeleton was, but in a world of arrogant heroes and terrifying monsters, this janitor was the only thing that made sense.

Every few minutes, Larry would glance back over his shoulder to ensure she was still there and give her a reassuring thumbs-up. Regel found herself smiling, clutching the silver spoon to her chest like a holy relic.

Finally, they reached the deepest chamber of the Crypt.

The subterranean room was colossal, as large as a cathedral. In the center, curled around a mountain of cursed treasures and time-blackened coins, lay a skeletal dragon the size of a commercial airliner. Dark, gloomy flames sizzled in its empty eye sockets, and an oppressive miasma of death and decay radiated from its jagged, pitch-black bones. This was a boss designed by the System to require a coordinated raid of forty high-level adventurers just to scratch its defenses.

But before the dragon even woke up, Larry noticed the "treasure" hoard.

It was a mess. Disorganized bones from previous adventurers were mixed with gold and legendary items. Larry immediately began to clean it up. He randomly picked up the legendary [Orb of Ultimate Destruction], muttered a scrik of annoyance, and rolled it like a bowling ball, smashing a row of dusty, cursed urns into easily sweepable fragments. He found three more "Mythic Bikini Armors" and tossed them into the trash bag without a second thought.

The commotion awoke the beast.

The [Abyssal Dread-Wyrm] uncoiled with terrifying slowness, its immense spine creaking with a sound like distant thunder. It raised its fearsome head, unhinging its jaws to unleash a breath of necrotic fire capable of instantly vaporizing the intruders into a pile of gray ash.

"ROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAA—" The boss began to shout.

Regel screamed in pure terror, diving behind a pillar.

Larry did not pull out a reinforced shield. He didn't chant a divine barrier spell.

He simply reached into his tool belt and pulled out another object.

It was a silver spoon. Not a magical spoon, but an incredibly oversized soup spoon, polished with such manic care that it shone like an exploding star in the darkness of the room. Larry held it up high, exactly in front of the dragon's snout.

The [Abyssal Dread-Wyrm] petrified. The dark fire building in its throat choked out, turning into a puff of black smoke. It stared at the gleaming object with its immense, empty sockets.

Larry tilted his skull slightly. Scrik. Then, with a fluid flick of his wrist, he wiggled the spoon, making it reflect the light.

The terrifying, cataclysmic, apocalyptic undead dragon let out a sound that could only be described as a high-pitched, incredibly goofy, and adorable whimper.

Suddenly, the Dread-Wyrm's massive spiked tail—a weapon capable of bringing down castle walls—began to wag. And not a slow movement; it wagged with such force and speed that it shattered two ancient stone pillars behind it, raining debris from the ceiling. The dragon lowered its immense front claws, flattening the front of its skeleton against the stone floor, while its bony rear end wiggled excitedly in the air.

It was doing the classic, unmistakable "play bow" of a happy puppy.

"Well, I'll be damned," Ugo muttered, his giant eye blinking repeatedly in disbelief. "The psychological profile of canine imprinting applied to draconic skeletal architecture... fascinating. I absolutely must write a paper on this for Jeanette's corporate science journal."

Larry pulled his arm back and, with a perfect pitch, hurled the giant silver spoon across the immense cavern.

CLANG-CLATTER-CLANG!

The Dread-Wyrm scrambled in pursuit, but the floor had just been treated with Larry's special wax. The dragon's immense claws slipped comically on the polished floor, like a Labrador puppy on hardwood. The beast stumbled, righted itself, and finally snatched the spoon in its terrifying jaws. Then, it trotted happily back to Larry and dropped the object at his bony feet, panting loudly with an invisible tongue.

Larry reached out his rubber-gloved hand and gave the dragon a few affectionate pats on its massive spiked snout.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: NEW ASSET SUCCESSFULLY ACQUIRED.]

[CLASSIFIED NAME: ABYSSAL DREAD-WYRM. ASSIGNED CODENAME: 'SPOT'.]

[BEHAVIORAL OVERRIDE: 'THE GOODEST BOY' PROTOCOL ENGAGED.]

"Absolute Cinema," [Dibbs57] clapped his spectral hands, tears of joy in his eyes. "You turned an S-Rank Boss into a golden retriever. This is the greatest stream I have ever witnessed. My premium ticket was worth every single penny."

While Larry scratched the space between its bony horns—causing a frantic "thump-thump-thump" of the dragon's hind leg against the floor—the job was officially considered complete.

Larry had cleaned the Crypt, settled the debts, secured a high-value Waifu Asset, gathered a corpse for the CEO, and adopted a corporate pet.

The skeleton looked at Regel, who was slowly emerging from behind the pillar, staring at the tail-wagging dragon in total disbelief. Larry waved her over, motioning towards the portal Ugo had just opened.

Regel didn't hesitate. She clutched her healing spoon, gave a small, grateful smile, and followed the skeleton janitor into the portal. Spot the Dread-Wyrm bounded happily after them, a giant silver spoon still clamped in his jaws.

The Crypt of Putrid Whispers was left in absolute silence, completely devoid of monsters, ghosts, or dirt. It was perfectly, terrifyingly clean.

"So... What are you gonna do with this dragon?" [Dibbs57] asked, while gently scratching its belly.

"This monster is too big to take into Fort Blackstone. We'll probably leave it here." Ugo replied.

Spot had probably understood that he was gonna lose their company and be left alone.

His tail started to wag, and he let out some muffled puppy noises.

"Ahh! This thing is too cute! You shouldn't leave this here!" [Dibbs57] exclaimed. "I have the solution!" He said, snapping his fingers.

In that moment, a golden window appeared right in front of him.

[SYSTEM ON: WHAT IS YOUR REQUEST?]

In that moment, [Dibbs57] spoke.

"I'll pay extra money if you shrink this monster into the dimension of a Labrador." He said.

[SYSTEM REPLY: ARE YOU SURE? THIS EVENT WASN'T PLANNED BY THE ADMIN. COST WILL BE 2000 OF YOUR CURRENT CURRENCY OF YOUR WORLD]

"YES! YES!" He said.

[SYSTEM CONFIRMATION: TAKING MEASURES...]

[SENDING REQUEST...]

[LOADING... 96%]

[COMPLETE]

[ADMIN HAS ACCEPTED YOUR OFFER]

[TAKING IMMEDIATE MEASURES...]

[TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE. SPOT IS NOW A PUPPY. TAKE CARE OF HIM]

In that moment, magic happened.

The big dragon shrank to the size of a Labrador.

[Dibbs57] then moved his gaze towards Ugo and spoke: "Done. Take this puppy to your boss. He'll probably be happy."

Ugo was literally stunned.

Never in his millennial life had he seen something like that. Never. 'This magic... the higher realms... Lord Aldmax was right about them... they're dangerous.' He thought.

"Thank you, Lord Dibbs57. If you'll excuse me, I'll go back to the Fort." Ugo said.

"Yeah. See you next time." He said, vanishing into dust.

Then, Ugo floated into the portal and returned to Fort Blackstone with the new aquired puppy.

He had to discuss many things with Mordecai.