Chapter 58: Solo Cleaning 5, Part 1: Hygiene is Half of Survival

The logistical briefing after Pyroas’ words took place in Ugo’s office on the second floor of Fort Blackstone.

The Skeletal Archivist and Director of Post-Mortem Human Resources stood behind his desk, surrounded by floating stacks of freshly printed, glossy, high-quality brochures. In contrast, Ravenloft Holdings' premier sanitation specialists stood at attention before the desk.

Larry looked immaculate in his signature blue coveralls and yellow rubber gloves. Beside him stood Carry, the newly evolved Custodial Assistant, who had fully embraced her role. Over her pristine white ribs, she wore a heavily frilled, surprisingly well-tailored black-and-white maid.

In one hand, she held a tactical, mana-infused broom; in the other, a heavy-duty magical Swiffer duster. The pink bow on her skull sat at a jaunty, eager angle.

"Your target," Ugo explained, his massive red pupil focusing on a holographic map, "is a newly spawned anomaly in the Northern Sector. It is an SSSS-Rank anomaly designated as 'The Hell of the Putrefied Ruined King'. It is a complete disaster. It possesses absolutely no zoning permits, no structural safety certifications, and it popped up overnight like an illegal construction project."

Ugo lowered his gaze, looking at the two skeletons.

"The audited souls describe the environment as a toxic, putrescent wasteland designed to be as frustrating and lethal as physically possible. It is the architectural equivalent of a madman randomly placing death traps in an obstacle course," Ugo continued. "The Leader wants it scrubbed clean. But more importantly, he has telepathically approved a new initiative."

Ugo pushed the stacks of glossy brochures across the desk.

"Operation: Hostile Talent Acquisition. You are to distribute these to any semi-intelligent monsters or wandering adventurers you encounter. We are expanding. Do not kill them if they show interest in our dental plan. Dismissed."

Larry gave a sharp, professional thumbs-up 👍.

Carry mirrored him perfectly 👍.

They grabbed the stacks of flyers, stuffing them into their void-inventories, and marched out of the office.

Ten minutes later, Larry and Carry stepped through the spatial portal and arrived inside the SSSS-Rank dungeon.

It was, objectively speaking, an absolute nightmare.

The air was thick with a corrosive, yellow-green miasma that would melt the lungs of a platinum-ranked adventurer in seconds.

The floor was a jagged mess of poisonous swamps, hidden spike pits, and—inexplicably—massive bars of fire rotating on mechanical axles, looking exactly like a sadistically designed level from a frustrated platformer game creator who spent his entire weekend creating something awful only to frustrate other players.

Larry and Carry stood at the entrance, doing nothing literally except scratching their skull in unison.

scrik scrik

They looked at the toxic swamp and then at the spikes.

Larry scratched his skull again and then gave a thumbs down 👎 . It was profound, professional disgust. The lack of hygiene in this place was an insult to the very concept of facility management.

Carry let out a disappointed scrik scrik, shaking her head in agreement.

SNAP.

In perfect, flawless synchronization, the two skeletons pulled the cuffs of their yellow rubber gloves, letting them snap against their wrist bones.

It was time to work, or to be more accurate, to clean.

As soon as they were about to start, a horde of Putrefied Revenants—towering zombies oozing highly acidic black sludge—spotted them. They roared, their vocal cords decaying as they charged forward, ready to tear the skeletons limb from limb.

Larry didn't even adopt a fighting stance. He calmly reached into his void-inventory and pulled out his tactical mop. He dipped it into a bucket of highly concentrated, magically synthesized bleach he had brought from the fortress.

As the first Revenant lunged, Larry sidestepped. With a fluid, graceful motion, he shoved the bleach-soaked mop directly into the monster's open, roaring mouth.

The reaction was instantaneous. The sheer, unadulterated sanitizing power of the bleach reacted violently with the dark miasma. The Revenant didn't take damage; it was aggressively purified. It gagged, its eyes widening as the sludge on its body literally dissolved, leaving it smelling sharply of mountain pine.

While the monster was stunned, Larry reached into his pocket, pulled out a glossy Ravenloft brochure, gently tucked it into the Revenant's rotting breast pocket, and gave the monster a comforting pat on the head.

Pat pat.

The poorly designed revenant took some steps back and sniffed his armpits.

He clearly couldn’t believe what had happened. It looked like he snapped back to a sentient being capable of understanding.

After that, he raised his arm, stopping the other horde of revenants.

They then formed a group and started mumbling random sounds while looking at the brochure that Larry had just given to the first one.

”Raaaawr!” One of them said, in an aggressive tone, left the group, and tried to attack Larry.

The janitor skeleton did the same thing and fully cleaned this other one.

In the end, he managed to sanitize everyone of them, leaving a beautiful smell of mountain pine and fresh-clean revenants ready to join the Ravenloft’s empire.

Meanwhile, Carry was equally efficient.

During her cleaning, a massive [Toxic Slime Golem] tried to drop on her from the ceiling.

The maid casually raised her magical Swiffer after noticing the “attack”.

The microfiber pads, enchanted with ultimate dust-and-grime absorption, completely trapped the S-Rank slime on contact. With three swift, aggressive scrubbing motions, she wiped the golem out of existence, leaving the stone floor beneath it sparkling and perfectly reflective.

She looked at Larry, who was still giving head pats to the revenants, and waited until he noticed her before giving him a thumbs up👍.

After that, they kept walking through the dungeon of death like an automated car wash. Firebars were dismantled with wrenches. Poison swamps were neutralized with heavy-duty baking soda. Traps were swept into neat little dustpans, and Larry kept constantly giving flyers and brochures to every sentient monster.

Other than that, he also grabbed a lot of objects and put them away in a ziplock bag.

Some of the items he grabbed were:

[1x Dagger of the Crimson Desert]

[1x Heroic pubic hair]

[2x Heroic Bikini Armor set]

[1x Aphrodisiac Potion]

[1x Universal Key]

[1x Aldmax Patch Notes 1.14]

[1x Generic Harem Protagonist Hair Wig]

[1x Jade Emperor Chipped Chalice]

[3x Expired Peaches of Immortality]

Useless items? He didn’t care. Larry just wanted to make his master happy. 👍

But as they ventured deeper into the core of the illegal dungeon, the sounds of intense, dramatic combat reached their nonexistent ears.

BOOM! SLASH!

"ARISE!"

Larry and Carry walked into a massive cavern that looked like the final boss’s room. (Spoiler: it wasn’t.)

The cavern was currently the site of an epic, high-budget anime battle. To be specific, that one battle where animation studios spend 90% of their budget on outstanding animations due to an almost non-existent plot.

Standing in the center of the room was nothing more than Jin—the notoriously edgy, dual-dagger-wielding Solo Player whose shadows Larry had previously unionized.

Jin was currently fighting the Dungeon Boss: a colossal, mutated Ant King with chitinous black armor and a terrifyingly sharp stinger. The edgy adventurer was moving at supersonic speed, leaving trails of blue light as he slashed at the beast, his dark aura flaring with every strike.

"You are fast, insect," Jin monologued darkly, striking a pose after dodging a lethal swipe. "But I level up alone. No one can match my cheat skills.”

It was a perfectly crafted, incredibly edgy scene.

However, what caught Larry and Carry's attention wasn't the epic fight that was leaving a disaster of dirt on the floors and walls. Instead, it was the group of people standing on the sidelines, completely ignoring the battle.

Gathered near the entrance of the cavern was a party of S-Rank hunters. Among them was a giant tank with a massive shield, a legendary fire mage, and a beautiful, blonde swordswoman named Chai, who possessed a unique, hyper-sensitive sense of smell.

Despite being some of the strongest humans on the planet, they were doing absolutely nothing.

They were literally waiting for the strongest one to take care of everything.

"He's too fast!" the tank gasped, sweating profusely as he watched Jin fight. "I can't even track his movements! If we step in, we'll only get in his way!"

"Such power..." the fire mage trembled, falling to his knees in awe. "We are, but ants compared to him! We must stand here and narrate his greatness to the audience!"

It was the ultimate, humiliating cliché of the overpowered protagonist trope. The side characters were reduced to useless cheerleaders, existing solely to make the Solo Player look cooler.

In those words, Larry and Carry could feel their suffering.

Clack. Clack.

Scrik. Scrik.

The S-Rank party jumped, startled by the sudden noise. They turned around and saw a janitor skeleton and a maid skeleton casually walking past the epic battle, carrying cleaning supplies and a stack of pamphlets.

Chai, the blonde swordswoman, instantly pinched her nose and prepared her sword, preparing for the horrific, rotting stench of undead monsters. Her sensitive nose was a curse; to her, all hunters and monsters smelled like rotting blood.

But as Larry walked closer, Chai’s eyes widened. She slowly lowered her hand and sword.

She didn't smell death. Instead, she smelled... Lemon Pledge. Pure, unadulterated, perfectly synthesized citrus goodness, accompanied by a subtle undertone of fresh lavender and clean linen.

"He... he smells amazing," Chai whispered, a deep, highly inappropriate blush spreading across her cheeks as she looked at the skeleton janitor.

Larry approached the group of useless, depressed S-Rank hunters, but he didn't attack. He gave them a bright, cheerful thumbs-up 👍 before looking at how dirty they were.

Carry stepped forward, neatly distributing the glossy Ravenloft Holdings brochures to the bewildered heroes.

The tank looked down at the pamphlet in his armored hands. "What is this? 'Why die for EXP when you can have a 401k? Join Ravenloft Holdings today. We offer twenty-eight days of paid time off and full curse-removal insurance.'"

"Wait," the fire mage said, adjusting his glasses. "Does that say they match pension contributions in pure gold bullion? Our current guild doesn't even pay for our travel expenses!"

"And look at the company culture section," Chai pointed out, her eyes shining as she looked at Larry. "Mandatory hygiene standards. Free uniforms. No 'Solo Players' hoarding all the loot while the team acts as a reaction-track. And who’s this beautiful guy in this picture? He looks so beautiful and clean!"

While Jin was screaming and slashing at the Ant King fifty yards away, Larry reached into the void and pulled out a small, foldable camping table, three tiny plastic chairs, and a deck of traditional Neapolitan playing cards.

Carry quickly wiped the table down with her Swiffer.

Larry gestured to the empty seats, shuffling the deck with the practiced, rapid ease of an older man in an Italian town.

The S-Rank hunters looked at each other. They looked back at the poor Jin, who was currently monologuing about the darkness in his soul. They realized that their presence in this fight was entirely narrative padding. They weren't getting paid for this.

The tank sighed, unequipped his massive shield, and sat down in a tiny plastic chair. "Deal me in. I haven't played Briscola since I was a C-Rank."

For the next twenty minutes, absolute surreal absurdity reigned in the boss's room.

Jin fought the hardest, most grueling battle of his life. He bled, he screamed, he pushed his edgy limits to the absolute maximum, repeatedly almost dying to the Ant King’s lethal poison.

Meanwhile, twenty yards away, his party was aggressively playing a game of Briscola with two skeleton janitors.

"Ha! Asso di Bastoni!" the fire mage cheered, slamming a card onto the plastic table.

Carry let out a disappointed scrik, tilting her head to the side. Larry did a thumbs up👍, handing the mage another Ravenloft brochure as a prize.

Even two surviving Ant Guards, realizing the battle was above their pay grade, had sat down behind Chai to watch the game, munching on some goblin popcorn Carry had provided.

In that moment, everyone was feeling ‘positive’.

Larry made them discover one of the most beautiful things in the world: the freedom of being someone with a narrative sense.

In reality, he just wanted to cheer them up by playing with them, and he made them feel happy.

Finally, with a massive, dramatic roar, Jin plunged his glowing daggers into the Ant King’s skull. The beast screeched and dissolved into black smoke.

Jin stood there, panting heavily. He was covered in monster blood, toxic slime, and deep gashes. A literal walking biohazard. He slowly sheathed his daggers, his dark aura flaring majestically.

"It is done," Jin rasped, his voice perfectly deepened to sound cool. He turned around, expecting to see his party looking at him with tears of awe and reverence. He expected Chai to blush at his sheer, overpowering masculinity.

Instead, he saw them playing cards with the enemy.

"What... what is this?" Jin stammered, the edgy aesthetic completely shattering.

He marched over, furious. But as he got closer, his eyes locked onto the blue coveralls. He locked onto the yellow rubber gloves.

Jin’s breath caught in his throat. A massive, debilitating wave of PTSD washed over him.

He remembered the [Labyrinth of the Flayed King]. He remembered his invincible shadow army throwing down their weapons, forming a labor union, and demanding proper working conditions. He remembered the humiliation.

"YOU!" Jin shrieked, his voice cracking, losing all its cool depth. "YOU'RE THE JANITOR! YOU RUINED ME!" He added, sounding like a generic, pissed-off anime antagonist side character.

Larry looked up from his hand of cards. He tilted his skull, recognized the boy, and gave him a polite, friendly thumbs-up 👍 and then handed him some cards, inviting him to play with them.

”Oi, Jin. Come play, this is fun.” The tank said, while Chai moved her gaze away from him.

In that moment, the Monarch of the Dark Silhouette felt a shiver of humiliation down all his spine.

"DON'T YOU THUMBS-UP ME!" Jin roared, drawing his daggers again. "I have leveled up! I am the Solo Monarch! I will erase you!"

The King of unpaid overtime lunged forward, moving at Mach 2.

His party immediately dashed away, scared to be injured, while Carry remained there, scratching her skull.

Larry didn't even stand up. He casually reached into his pocket, pulled out a spray bottle of 'Ravenloft Heavy-Duty Surface Cleaner', and squirted Jin directly in the eyes mid-lunge.

Pffft. Pffft.

"GAAAH!" Jin screamed, dropping his daggers and clutching his face as the aggressively lemony, highly alkaline cleaning solution burned his corneas. He crashed into the floor, rolling around in agony.

Larry had hit the only place where no enemy used to hit: the eyes, one of the weakest spots of a human.

The skeleton janitor stood up and walked next to him, scratching his skull for a few seconds before giving him a thumbs-down 👎.

"Bad," Larry's gesture seemed to imply. He then pointed at the mess of blood and slime Jin was leaving on the floor.

The poor Jin scrambled backward, tears streaming down his face.

His pride was in shambles.

He needed a weakness.

He needed to find a way to beat this gag-character.

Up in the corner of his vision, his personalized LitRPG System, which catered specifically to his edgy power fantasy, desperately tried to help him.

[SYSTEM PROMPT: The Skeleton Entity draws its power from the cutlery in its pocket! TOUCH THE SPOONS to short-circuit its magic!]

It was terrible advice. It was the worst advice in the history of the universe.

But Jin, blinded by Lemon Pledge and desperation, believed it. He lunged forward one last time, extending his hand, and slapped the front pocket of Larry's blue coveralls.

He touched the stainless-steel spoons.

Record scratch.

The entire dungeon fell dead silent. The S-Rank hunters felt their souls freezing. The ant guards gasped and took a synchronized step backward.

Carry dropped her Swiffer. She covered her eye sockets with her hands, not wanting to watch the carnage. (She unlocked a new gesture: Custodial Shock)

Larry slowly moved his gaze to the edgy solo player.

The tiny white flames in his eye sockets vanished. For a split second, there was only darkness. And then, the sockets ignited with a blinding, terrifying, laser-red glow.

[CUSTODIAL RAGE ACTIVATED.]

[Condition Triggered: Unauthorized contact with sanitized cutlery.]

It wasn't a fight. To call it a fight would imply that Jin had a chance to defend himself.

It was a forced, non-consensual hygiene procedure.

Larry moved with a speed that defied the laws of physics. He grabbed Jin by the collar of his edgy black trench coat, but he didn't punch him. He pulled out an industrial-grade, abrasive sponge and a bottle of high-concentration bleach.

"Wait! What are you doing?! NO! ARISE! ARISE!" Jin screamed in pure terror.

His shadow army erupted from the ground. Hundreds of elite, dark shadow soldiers, knights, and mages materialized, ready to defend their monarch.

Larry paused. He looked at the shadow army. He let go of Jin for a second, reached into his void-inventory, and pulled out a massive stack of Ravenloft Holdings union enrollment forms and glossy flyers. He handed them to the lead Shadow Knight.

The Shadow Knight looked at the flyer. He looked at the 401k matching program. He looked at the 'Paid Vacation' clause.

The Shadow Knight turned around, looked at Jin, and dropped his sword. He manifested a small, spectral picket sign that read: [FAIR WAGES NOW! NO MORE UNPAID OVERTIME!]

The entire shadow army immediately sat down, crossing their arms, officially going on strike. Again.

"NO! YOU TRAITORS!" Jin sobbed.

Larry turned back to Jin. The red glow in his eyes intensified.

For the next five minutes, the boss cavern was filled with the horrifying sounds of furious scrubbing, the squeaking of wet rubber, and the agonizing screams of an edgelord having his aesthetic forcibly removed.

Carry joined in, using her Swiffer to aggressively dust Jin's hair, while Larry scrubbed the blood, the grime, and the dark aura entirely off the Solo Player's body. They washed behind his ears, polished his boots, and also sprayed him with so much disinfectant that his dark magical aura was completely neutralized, replaced by a blinding, squeaky-clean shine.

When Larry finally stepped back, adjusting his rubber gloves, Jin was unrecognizable.

His edgy black coat was now a vibrant, freshly laundered grey. His messy, cool anime hair was perfectly parted and slicked to the side. And worst of all, he smelled overwhelmingly like pine needles and baby powder. The dark, brooding aura of the Shadow Monarch was gone. He looked like a choir boy ready for Sunday school.

Jin lay on the floor, curled into a fetal position, staring blankly at the wall. His mind was utterly broken. The trauma of being aggressively sanitized by a janitor had completely shattered his protagonist complex.

"My... my power..." Jin whispered, a single tear rolling down his squeaky-clean cheek. "I... I look like an accountant..."

Larry gave him a firm, approving thumbs-up 👍.

He was clean. Most of the dungeon was clean. The job was almost done.

Larry and Carry began to pack up their cleaning supplies and the foldable table. They slung the massive black garbage bags filled with S-Rank loot and monster cores over their shoulders, ready to head to the next dungeon.

Jin slowly sat up, trembling. He looked over at his party, desperate for some validation, some comfort. "Chai... guys... we need to retreat..."

The S-Rank party wasn't even looking at him.

The tank, the fire mage, and the beautiful swordswoman were crowded around Carry. They had conjured a pen and were eagerly signing the Ravenloft Holdings employment contracts on the back of Carry's clipboard.

"So, the dental plan covers magical cavities?" the tank asked eagerly.

Carry just gave a thumbs-up.

"And I don't have just to stand around acting amazed while someone else fights?" the fire mage wept tears of joy. "I can actually contribute to the quarterly goals?"

Larry offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Chai looked back at Jin, who smelled like a walking air freshener, and then back at Larry, who smelled like professional stability and lemon zest. The choice was obvious.

"Sorry, Jin," Chai said, putting the signed contract in her pocket. "But 'leveling up alone' is a terrible retirement plan. I'm going corporate. Tell the guild that we died in battle."

Jin let out a high-pitched, pathetic shriek. Completely abandoned by his shadows, his party, and his edgy aesthetic, the Solo Player scrambled to his feet and ran crying toward the dungeon exit, desperate to find a mud puddle to roll in.

Larry watched him go. He shook his skull slightly, pulling out his Swiffer to mop up the single tear Jin had left on the floor.

[SYSTEM ALERT: 80% OF DUNGEON CLEARED!]

[Threat Level degraded from 'SSSS-Rank' to 'Sterilized Waiting Room'.]

[Title Unlocked: 'Apex Sanitizers' - Grants absolute authority over dirt, grime, and edgy protagonists.]

[IMPORTANT NOTICE: HIDDEN SUB-DUNGEON UNLOCKED, GO]

[VERY IMPORTANT: ESCORT THE NEW INTERNS OUTSIDE BEFORE PROCEEDING]

Larry and Carry turned to each other. They raised their hands, shared a perfect, synchronized high-five, and walked hand in hand like two children leaving school.

Then, flanked by their new S-Rank recruits, a unionized shadow army, and a lot of new monsters, the two skeletons marched out of the dungeon, leaving behind a floor so polished you could eat soup off of it.

High above the surface, in his room in the Sleeping Basilisk Inn, Mordecai was eating a handful of goblin popcorn, watching the live feed through his holographic screen.

Valeria, Nya, and Seraphina were sleeping peacefully in the other room, but Valeria’s snores were too loud.

Nya kept purring randomly while Seraphina was literally talking in her sleep. What a mess.

Luckily, our beloved fake Necromancer was too focused on the show.

He slowly lowered the popcorn—a single, proud smile tear formed in his glowing purple eye.

"Promote them," Mordecai whispered to the empty room. "Promote them to Senior Management immediately."

But just as he settled back into his ergonomic chair, reveling in the absolutely flawless execution of his corporate strategy, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight.

The air immediately changed, and too many system notifications flickered before him like unwanted ads.

In that moment, Mordecai realized that he wasn't alone.

He froze, but he didn’t turn around immediately or summon his magic to defend himself.

"You always did zone out when you watched those ridiculous gaming streams, not even realizing someone sneaking behind you," a soft, trembling voice spoke from the shadows directly behind his chair.

Mordecai’s heart slammed against his ribs. It clearly wasn't the voice of an assassin.

He slowly turned his chair around.

Standing there, her heavy white cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders, the hood pushed back to reveal her messy golden hair and tear-stained blue eyes, was Lucy—the Immaculate Saintess.

She wasn't looking at him with holy fury. She was looking at him with a mixture of profound heartbreak and an almost absolute certainty.

"You never knew how to hide it when you were lying," Lucy whispered, taking a hesitant step forward, tears welling up in her eyes. "Your jaw always twitches when you have to fake an apology..."

She stopped, looking past the dark cloak, past the glowing purple eye, and directly into the soul of the man sitting in the chair.

"...Kaito."

In that moment, the whole world stopped, and for the first time, Mordecai Von Ravenloft was in pure danger.