The Janitor Who Cleans Up After Gods

Chen Wei is a burned-out, middle-aged man who took a night janitor job because it was the only thing left that asked nothing of him. No interviews. No explanations. Just a mop and an empty building and the voicemails from his daughter he never answers. For eight months, that was enough. Then a woman named Director Zhao steps out of an elevator at 3:17 AM and tells him his real contract started tonight. His first assignment: Floor 47. Someone left a god in the breakroom again. The mop, it turns out, is not a mop. It's an RST-7 — a Reality Stabilization Tool — disguised because nobody questions a janitor. And Chen Wei has just been hired by the Cleanup Committee, an organization that has existed since the first god made the first mess. They don't govern. They don't intervene. They just clean. The gods are real. They're also exhausted, forgotten, and prone to flooding office buildings with grief. They don't need someone to fight them. They need someone to sit with them. To witness them. To stay. Chen Wei is very good at staying. He's been staying away from his daughter for eight years. It's the only skill he has left. What follows is not a power fantasy. Chen Wei will never be the strongest. He will never master a forbidden technique or unlock a hidden bloodline. He will level up by losing things — memories, feelings, pieces of himself — one cleanup at a time. But somewhere between a hearth god throwing pots in an empty apartment, a war god fighting a battle that ended before this world began, and an exhausted creator who just needs someone to tell him it's okay to stop — Chen Wei starts to understand something. Presence is harder than power. Staying is harder than winning. And the most dangerous thing in the universe might be a middle-aged man with a mop who has nothing left to lose. His daughter is still calling. One day, he'll answer.