Janitor of the Superhero League: The Day They Pleaded for My Help

The Super Hero Association's annual rankings were released today.

I stood in the lobby of the headquarters building, mop in hand, looking up at the giant electronic screen on the wall. 987 names scrolled across the screen, each followed by their ability rating, combat contribution points, and annual kill count.

My name is at the very bottom.

Marcus Gray, ranked 987, ability: Cleanse, combat contribution: 0, annual kills: 0.

It dropped one place compared to last year.

The guy named Jack who was ranked after me last year had the ability to "make plants grow faster." Last month, he created a thicket of thorns on a suburban battlefield, trapping three B-grade mutant beasts. The association promoted him. So I became last.

I lowered my head and continued mopping the floor.

The association assigned me a job as a cleaner in this headquarters building. To be precise, it was cleaning the floors in the common areas from the first to the third floor. I worked from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. every day, with weekends off. My monthly salary was $3,500, just enough to rent a single room near the association.

My ability file clearly states: "Able to remove stains from the surface of any object."

The association's assessment report was even more blunt: "No combat value, recommended for logistics positions."

Ten years have passed.

I was twenty-two when I joined the organization, fresh out of the Superpower Academy. Back then, I naively thought that as long as I joined the Superhero Association, I could put on a combat suit, rush into battle, and save the world, just like in the movies. I filled out the combat assessment application form and carefully wrote three hundred words in the "Superpower Description" section, describing in detail my direction for developing my superpower.

The reviewer was a bald, middle-aged man named Thomson. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, sat behind his desk, and glanced down at my application form.

Then he picked up the application form and, right in front of me, threw it into the trash can next to the table.

"clean?"

Are you kidding me?

I said I wasn't.

He said, "Young man, I've been in this business for twenty years. I've seen all sorts of bizarre abilities—things that change hair color, can understand cat language, and there was even a guy who could grow his nose hairs to a meter long. But do you know where those people are now?"

I didn't say anything.

"Either retire, or coast along in the logistics department."

He leaned back in his chair and continued:

"Your superpower is cleaning. To put it bluntly, it's wiping things down. Do you think someone needs to wipe the floor on a battlefield?"

I said, "I can remove the—"

"That's enough."

"Don't waste my time. Go to HR and they'll assign you a suitable position."

I ran into Gwen as I was leaving his office.

Gwen Stone, ranked seventh in the Association, is an S-class hero whose superpower is "gravity manipulation." She can make a building float in mid-air, or crush a person into a pulp under her own weight. She had just returned from the battlefield, her white combat suit splattered with monster acid and blood, and purple fragments of internal organs stuck to the soles of her boots.

She saw me in the hallway and stopped.

"A newcomer?" she asked.

I nodded.

She glanced down at her boots, then at the application form in my hand.

"A cleaning ability? That's perfect."

She lifted her foot and rubbed her boots hard on the freshly mopped floor. Purple slime mixed with black blood, leaving a disgusting stain on the marble floor.

"Newcomer, work hard. After all, your job is much safer than ours."

Then she turned and left.

I stood in the hallway, looking down at the stain.

That was my first day at the company.

Ten years later, Gwen is still saying the same thing.

At nine o'clock in the morning, the S-class hero returned from his mission.

I had just finished mopping the first-floor lobby and was about to go to the second floor. The door was pushed open, and Ares walked in first. He was the number one ranked hero in the association, and his superpower was "God of War Possession"—the longer the battle lasted, the stronger he became. He was 1.95 meters tall, with muscles like a sculpture, and his short blond hair was stained with dust and blood.

Behind him followed Gwen, and three other S-class heroes. All five were covered in blood, their boots splattered with various colored monster fluids.

They walked across the center of the hall, stepping on the floor I had just mopped.

Nobody even glanced at me.

Gwen walked to the elevator door, glanced back at the footprints on the ground, and smiled.

"Marcus, remember to wipe it well."

Ares walked past without stopping. He never looked down. In his eyes, I was probably like a fire hydrant on the wall—just part of the building, not worth paying attention to.

The elevator doors closed.

I stood in the hall, looking down at the footprints.

Purple, black, green, and a pool of deep red blood. The blood was dripping from Gwen's boots; she had just stepped on the neck of a monster. The blood spread across the marble floor like a withered flower.

I put the mop in the bucket, wrung it out, and bent down.

The system panel is flashing in the upper right corner of the view.

[Special Ability: Cleaning]

Current development progress: 78%

[Jurisdiction: Stains on object surfaces / Residual substances in space / Conceptual sources of pollution (unlocked)]

The association's ability detection device can only detect the first level—"stains on the surface of objects." They thought my ability was just wiping tables, mopping floors, and washing clothes, but they didn't know that I had already developed my ability to the second level.

I don't know what the third layer is.

I squatted down and pressed the mop onto the pool of blood.

"clean."

The blood disappeared.

The floor was restored to how it looked five minutes ago—clean, smooth, and reflective.

I stood up, wrung out the mop, and continued walking.

Gwen's footprints, Ares's footprints, and the footprints of the other three S-class heroes disappeared one by one.

Since they think all I can do is mop the floor, then I'll mop the floor.

Anyway, I'm happy to have some free time.

They were so meticulous that the association's headquarters building became the cleanest building in the city. They were so meticulous that whenever foreign guests visited, the supervisor would specifically take them to the lobby on the first floor, point to the floor, and say, "Look, this is our association's standard."

I was so serious that my ability development level increased from 12% to 78%.

I never told them that the "cleaning" ability was not just about removing stains.

It can also clear away other things.

What else can be cleared?

A series of discordant elements...

What if it's a person?

What if someone stands where they shouldn't be, does things they shouldn't be doing, and whose very existence is a form of "pollution"?

I haven't tried it yet.

But I know that I will try someday.

At 3 p.m., the alarm went off.

The piercing alarm blared throughout the building, and red emergency lights began flashing. I was mopping the floor on the third floor when I heard an explosion downstairs.

The supervisor's voice came over the loudspeaker: "All combat personnel, proceed to the underground prison immediately! Repeat, all combat personnel, proceed to the underground prison immediately! An SSS-class villain has broken out!"

I stopped what I was doing.

SSS-level villain.

The association has only ever imprisoned three SSS-class villains. Two of them have been executed, and the remaining one, known as "The Blood Earl," is imprisoned in a special cell at the deepest part of the underground prison. His superpower is "Blood Domination," which allows him to manipulate the blood within any living being. In other words, as long as you have blood in your body, you are his puppet.

I picked up the mop and headed for the stairs.

I want to see how all the S-class heroes will deal with him.