"Hello? Nathan Thompson?" A burst of static crackled in the helmet. After the fishman died, the psychic contamination vanished, and communication was finally restored.

Nathan Thompson nearly burst into tears when he heard Megan Carter's voice. "Captain!"

Megan Carter sounded anxious. "Are you alright? What about Nancy Clark?"

Nancy Clark, while collecting contaminated spores, replied, "Alive."

Megan Carter breathed a sigh of relief. God knows it's a miracle that two cleaners could survive after falling into a contaminated zone.

Megan Carter: "The tech center misrated the area. You accidentally entered a D-level contamination zone."

So it really was D-level, Nathan Thompson thought. He hadn't miscalculated.

Megan Carter: "The contaminated area has already split open. I’ll be able to reach you soon. Stay where you are and don’t move. The demon hunters have arrived and will begin the rescue as soon as they land."

A D-level contamination zone isn’t too difficult for demon hunters.

Nathan Thompson said cautiously, "Actually... there's no need for the demon hunters to come."

"Why?" Megan Carter was puzzled. There was always the sound of wind on her end—she was probably rushing over.

Nathan Thompson looked around. All he saw were the corpses of contaminants and spores—no living threats. The area was extremely clean.

He and Nancy Clark had done this. Not a single demon hunter had entered; just two garbage-collecting logistics cleaners had wiped out a D-level contamination zone!

Nathan Thompson said proudly, "We cleaners don’t need demon hunters to rescue us."

Megan Carter: "?"

Is this really the time to be throwing a tantrum?

"Um..." Megan Carter asked carefully, "Are you mentally okay?"

It was the most reasonable guess—she suspected Nathan Thompson had lost his mind.

Nathan Thompson said boldly, "Have the organization send another cleaning team. We might not be able to handle all this ourselves."

Megan Carter: "?"

...

After hanging up, Nathan Thompson let out a long sigh of relief. His work uniform was soaked with sweat.

He felt a wave of exhaustion after surviving a disaster and collapsed to the ground with a thud. Nathan Thompson exhaled, the tension in his mind finally easing. "I think I’m done for."

His mental strength was low, and he’d been contaminated from the start. Now, surrounded by spores, the moment he relaxed, the contamination worsened.

"Get away from me," Nancy Clark glanced at him. If you’re contaminated, just move away.

"No!" Nathan Thompson pressed close to Nancy Clark. He’d realized Nancy Clark was even more reliable than a demon hunter. "I won’t leave you."

Nancy Clark: "..."

Alright, he’s starting to lose it.

The demon hunters would arrive soon, so Nancy Clark wasn’t too worried about Nathan Thompson's mental state. She didn’t want to look at him, focusing on collecting spores. She didn’t want to deal with Nathan Thompson, but couldn’t ignore his antics.

Nancy Clark watched as Nathan Thompson suddenly raised both hands.

Quick as lightning, Nancy Clark knocked his hands away. Nathan Thompson raised his arms again. Now that there was no danger, he wanted to do something bold—take off his helmet!

"Hey!" Nancy Clark pressed down on Nathan Thompson's helmet, stopping him. "What are you doing?"

"I can’t breathe," Nathan Thompson said.

Taking off the helmet would make it easy to get infected and parasitized. Nancy Clark: "Don’t take off your helmet, do you hear me?"

Nathan Thompson mumbled a soft "okay," disappointedly lowering his hands. Then, right in front of Nancy Clark, he slowly drew up his knees and curled up at her feet, hugging them.

Like a little puppy.

Is this moderate psychic contamination? Nancy Clark remembered Megan Carter saying a colleague once thought he was a pink double-headed lotus after being contaminated. She was a little curious what Nathan Thompson thought he was.

Nancy Clark probed, "Who are you?"

Nathan Thompson buried his head in his knees and said, "I’m big sister’s little puppy."

Nancy Clark: "..."

Kid, are you exposing some secret kink here?!

...

103rd District Cleaning Center.

If it was only as messy as a stock exchange when Nancy Clark arrived earlier, now it looked like a war had just been fought.

The head of the tech department, Quentin Baker, was furious. "Miscalculated the rating! How could there be a rating error!"

"Do you know how much trouble this is?"

"There are no demon hunters inside, just two cleaners handling logistics—no weapons, no experience. How many lives do you think they have?"

"...Just garbage collectors..."

Cleaner lives are cheap. Ten cleaners aren’t worth a single demon hunter. If demon hunters arrived but couldn’t enter for the rescue, sacrificing two cleaners was sometimes considered acceptable. From a certain perspective, that wasn’t wrong.

"Screw your ancestors!" Quentin Baker sneered. "If the contamination zone gets out of control and the spores spread, do you know how many people will die in District 103?"

"Do you even want this job? If not, get out!"

The technician in charge of monitoring kept his head down, not daring to say a word.

"The demon hunters are already on their way," someone whispered.

"What good does that do now!" Quentin Baker cursed. "It’s already been fifteen minutes—the best rescue window is gone!"