Evelyn Grant: "I can't say much more, and no matter how much I say, it's better for you to experience it yourself."

"To be honest, we are in urgent need of new people, but the job is somewhat confidential, so I have to make things clear to you." Evelyn Grant pushed a stack of contracts in front of her.

Nancy Clark glanced at them. The confidentiality agreement didn't list many specific terms, basically just stating that she must keep everything she sees confidential.

One contract was a probationary contract to protect Nancy Clark's basic rights, and another was a safety agreement. The safety agreement was very long, a full twenty pages, and Nancy Clark read it carefully. A few clauses were particularly noteworthy.

Clause 11: In the event of any injury or death during work, the Federal Cleaning Center will take full responsibility and pay triple compensation according to Appendix 15, Article 3.

Clause 35: For those left with lifelong disabilities, the Federation will provide lifelong support.

This safety agreement included some terms related to injury and death.

"Is it dangerous?" Nancy Clark asked.

"There is some danger, but the probability is low. You basically won't encounter it," Evelyn Grant said. "Generally, by the time the cleaners go in, it's already very clean inside."

After all, they're not the vanguard; the dangerous work is handled by those on the front lines. In summary, it's the most laid-back job among dangerous work, perfect for a laid-back person like Nancy Clark.

Nancy Clark finished reading all the terms and then signed her name decisively.

Anyway, work is work, so she might as well do a high-paying one. She has always liked earning a month's salary in a day and then lying flat for the remaining 29 days.

Evelyn Grant's wristband rang—someone else was looking for her. She said to Nancy Clark, "Your work location today is Sewer A7. Someone will take you there in a bit."

Evelyn Grant operated something on her own screen. "We pay in advance. Today's attendance wage will be transferred to you first. The commission will be settled after you finish your work."

Ding—Nancy Clark's wrist flashed, and 5,000 new dollars were credited to her account. She already got paid? Nancy Clark felt like she was picking up free money.

……

Nancy Clark underwent an hour of basic employee training, commonly known as: "Zero Basics: Learn to Clean Trash in One Hour"

The training time counted as work time, so this training video was especially enjoyable.

Nancy Clark watched the video very attentively. After all, the job was a bit dangerous, so she couldn't be careless.

In the instructional video, the corpses were all just bloody, mangled lumps. From the video, it was almost impossible to tell what kind of monster it was—only that the official term was "contaminant."

Nancy Clark memorized every step. She picked things up quickly. In short, it was just collecting corpses and cleaning up the battlefield—very simple for her.

After watching the video, someone took her to change into her "work uniform." Unexpectedly, changing clothes was the most time-consuming part—it actually took twenty minutes.

The work uniform looked a lot like motorcycle gear: pure black, with a material similar to leather, and she had to wear a pure black helmet. If she went to steal a motorcycle now, it would look perfectly natural.

If she pressed the button on her chest, the suit would inflate inside, providing cushioning against monster impacts and even supplying oxygen for extreme environments. Once inflated, it looked even more like a spacesuit.

Nancy Clark thought of the first rule in the cleaner's code of conduct: No exposed skin.

Nancy Clark held her helmet without putting it on. In front of her were two colleagues. The corpse collection team—no, the cleaning team—was usually made up of three people, and when bringing in a newcomer, one would be assigned to the team.

"Nathan Thompson."

"Megan Carter."

The three exchanged names. Megan Carter handed Nancy Clark a gun. "For self-defense. The permissions aren't activated, but just carry it for good luck."

Nancy Clark examined the gun. The chamber was empty.

"Air bullets," Nathan Thompson explained. "When you fire, it instantly compresses air into a bullet. The stopping power is decent."

Nathan Thompson: "It's fine if you don't know how to shoot. You probably won't need it. Today, you're just here to learn the whole cleaning process."

Nancy Clark didn't bother to argue that she could use a gun. She tucked it into the back of her waistband. Finally, Nathan Thompson handed her a cleaning backpack. Nancy Clark had seen it in the video—it was the tool she needed for cleaning up.

"Let's go," said Megan Carter, the team leader. "I'll take you to clean up some trash."

……

The work location was supposedly a certain sewer.

They were driven there in a special vehicle, with no view of the outside. As a newcomer, Nancy Clark had no idea where they were going. She only knew that about an hour had passed, and at 8 p.m., the vehicle stopped.

It was already dark. Two large floodlights were set up in the wasteland, instantly turning night into day. Staff had set up a cordon, and robots were maintaining order.

As Nancy Clark and her team entered, another team was just coming out.

Their uniforms were different—more like soft armor. If Nancy Clark was wearing motorcycle gear, they were wearing something like Iron Man suits.

Nancy Clark had survived on the edge of life and death in her previous life, so she could tell at a glance that these people were not ordinary. They exuded a menacing aura—this must be the legendary vanguard unit.

Megan Carter led the team and stopped in place when he saw the armored soldiers, giving way to them.

It seemed these armored soldiers outranked them. When the two teams met, the cleaning center staff had to yield. Nancy Clark could only stop as well. Unfortunately, the other side didn't even greet them as they passed by.

One person walked past them and chuckled under his breath, "Weaklings."