[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-i-m-the-cleanup-crew":3,"chapter-i-m-the-cleanup-crew-i-m-the-cleanup-crew-chapter-162":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","I'm the Cleanup Crew!",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2285998,4472,"Chapter 162: Who Is the Real Winner?","i-m-the-cleanup-crew-chapter-162",162,"\u003Cp>Fool who speaks without restraint!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the solemn front hall and the prince’s unmasked anger, the elder of the Lyon family in the back couldn’t help but curse inwardly, then hurried out to replace the Lyon steward who had just stepped on the landmine, smiling warmly to defuse the tension:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s all the same, all the same, don’t rush.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether Prince Joshua or Princess Veronika, both are children of His Majesty the King, and naturally entitled to represent the Crown. Today, whichever of you two is present is an honor to our Lyon family.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hehe, speaking of which, the last time I saw Prince Joshua, he was only seven or eight years old—now, in the blink of an eye, he’s already representing His Majesty at our Lyon family’s succession ceremony. Time truly flies!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hmph! How could I be like her? You old relic who preaches from your age!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching the white-haired elder burst from the back, forcibly trying to smooth things over, Joshua narrowed his eyes—the irregular freckles on his cheekbones looked like smudges of dirt—and he seemed ready to say more, when someone pinched his waist hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Highness!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the etiquette teacher’s sharp, reproachful whisper and seeing the alarm on his companion’s face, the freckled boy gritted his teeth, swallowed the retort already on his tongue, and snapped impatiently:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine then! When will your new Duke arrive? Get him here as fast as possible—don’t waste our time!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Any moment now! The Duke is coming!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing they’d finally managed to placate the arrogant, temperamental young prince, the two Lyon elders exhaled together, then rose to guide the guests back to their seats, smiling broadly as they engaged the freckled boy in polite chatter—the tense atmosphere in the hall gradually returned to harmony… until a clamor of neighing horses echoed from outside the estate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Grace! You’ve finally… hmm?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Spotting the figure they’d been waiting for, the two Lyon elders rushed forward eagerly, eager to finish the remaining rites.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as they approached, they realized the Duke had changed entirely—he’d wiped off his makeup, removed his elaborate ornaments, swapped his custom-tailored ceremonial robe, and even stained the front with a large, dark blotch!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn it! The Duke looks like he’s fleeing a disaster—how can the ceremony even begin? Was this how old York handled things?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the murmurs of the guests and feeling the piercing stares at his back, the two Lyon elders felt the world spin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Grace!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the stain on Lyon’s chest, the Lyon steward couldn’t help but cry out in shock and fury:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What happened to you? Where’s your makeup? Your clothes? Where’s old York?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uh…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meeting the two elders’ despairing gazes, Lyon—who had almost just blurted out that the old steward was gone—felt a pang of guilt and replied awkwardly:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The steward… he suddenly had a heart attack. I barely managed to save him—he’s lying in the carriage now. This stain on my chest? That’s the foam he spat out during his attack…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Huh? He was perfectly fine when he left—how could he have a heart attack just now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing Lyon’s explanation, the two Lyon elders exchanged a glance, each seeing the same deep helplessness in the other’s eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t panic! There’s still a way!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the growing clamor in the hall, the Lyon elder took a deep breath and ordered the flustered steward:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You stay here and calm the guests. I’ll take the Duke to the back to reapply makeup and change clothes—then we can come out again. That might still…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No need for all that trouble. I’ll just say two words.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He almost added, “Either… or…” but seeing how old these two were, he feared one more shock might send them both to their graves—he bit back the impulse, pulled free from the Lyon steward’s grip, and strode straight toward the hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Duke—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Your Grace? Wait!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait! Where are you going!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’m doing exactly what I want—get rid of this cursed dukedom as fast as possible!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ignoring the frantic pursuit of the two Lyon elders, Lyon pushed through the crowd, stepped onto the main dais, and addressed the assembly below:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I came here to announce one thing: if you still insist I become this Duke, then I intend to offer the entire Lyon family as…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Filth!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A familiar shout cut Lyon off. A notorious nobleman of the capital pushed forward, pointing at the sullen freckled boy in the front row, and sneered:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You dare arrive late to a succession ceremony? You’ve wasted so much time for two honored guests—and you won’t even apologize?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You’re… oh, right. The little worm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Recognizing the speaker by his chest insignia, Lyon didn’t bother replying—but followed his gesture to glance at the man and woman flanking the front row.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The woman in the plain long dress was the Prime Minister’s Lady—he’d seen her photo with the PM in the papers. She seemed in good spirits, and even nodded politely when he looked her way.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The freckled child on the right, whose face looked smudged, must be Prince Joshua—the brat who’d splashed mud all over him and overturned half the carriages on the road. The brat was glaring at him with obvious rage, held back only by those beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t get up—better yet! Saves trouble!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unfortunately, even though Lyon had merely glanced at the “honored guests” and immediately looked away, eager to finish quickly and shed this cursed title,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>eyes are windows to the soul—and his windows were unusually transparent. Even that casual glance had conveyed his inner thoughts with brutal clarity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Impudent!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After locking eyes with Lyon, Prince Joshua—already seething—could no longer contain himself. Lyon’s gaze, laced with three parts contempt, seven parts disgust, and twelve thousand parts utter disdain, had stabbed him like a blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shoved away the woman holding his arm, threw his head back, and roared in fury:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re just a filthy commoner who got lucky and inherited a title—how dare you look at me like that?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“…?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hell are you talking about?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d merely glanced—and got a random, furious tirade thrown at him. Lyon didn’t even feel anger; he just felt genuinely bewildered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Logically, a creature this absurd should’ve vanished from the world twenty years ago—even low-tier web dramas wouldn’t cast such a villain. And yet here he was?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bastard! I’ll blind you with those damned eyes!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching Lyon’s expression shift from contempt to surprise, then to realization, and finally to a pitying look reserved for fools, the freckled prince suffered another crushing blow. The fire in his chest blazed higher.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You filthy—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Prince Joshua!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The outburst startled more than just Lyon. The etiquette teacher, snapping out of shock, immediately shouted to stop him, gripping his arm and scolding sharply:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Control yourself! Don’t shame the Crown and your sister!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Get lost!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shoving the etiquette teacher to the ground, the furious prince stomped and yelled:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“She’s her! I’m me! Don’t drag Veronika’s nonsense onto me! I’m myself—not her copy!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And you!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the man on stage who looked at him with genuine contempt, the wounded pride of the freckled prince surged—he stormed toward the dais, shouting as he came:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like thunder:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You pus-ridden commoner! A rotten fruit growing on a crooked tree! A black-haired bastard crawling in a dog’s den!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How dare a bastard Duke, raised in exile, look down on me? Do you think I can’t strip you of this title and make your whole family of bastards flee the capital tomorrow? I—ah!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Swinging his arm with full force, he delivered a thunderous slap that sent the prince sprawling. Feeling considerably better, Lyon picked him up by the collar in the stunned silence, then spat directly onto the “stain” on his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pulling his sleeve down, he rubbed the spit against the prince’s cheek—only to realize it wasn’t dirt, but natural freckles. He sighed in disappointment, then patted the rapidly swelling left side of the prince’s face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Make me lose this title? Fine. Prove it. If you can’t, you’re my grandson.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now I get why old York suddenly had a heart attack…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching their new Duke—who’d spat in the prince’s face and now claimed to be the King’s father—the Lyon steward felt his heart surge past a hundred and eighty beats per minute, racing toward two hundred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Elder! Elder, think of something!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this dire moment—more like living hell than near-death—the Lyon steward turned desperately to his last hope, praying to hear the elder’s unshakable “Don’t panic.” But…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thud!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he could turn, the eldest of the three Lyon elders—the family’s final anchor—rolled backward onto the carpet, eyes rolling, mouth crooked, limbs twitching, as if his collapse were a prophecy of the Lyon family’s doom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse still, the new Duke who’d dragged the Lyon family into the abyss tossed aside the trembling prince and announced to the stunned guests:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Listen well! If you still insist I become this Duke, then I’ll offer the entire Lyon family as a dowry—to propose to Princess Veronika! If worse comes to worst, I’ll just—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A clear voice came from behind. A woman who absolutely shouldn’t have been here strode into the front hall, meeting the guests’ even more bewildered stares, and replied with radiant delight:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I accept your proposal! From this moment on, you are my Prince of the Blood!”\u003C\u002Fp>",1548,"2026-06-20T03:18:28.556Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","1c3316d236a021ddf9be6bfed578c540640b087bf5eb255ab98f82918694e813","i-m-the-cleanup-crew-chapter-163","i-m-the-cleanup-crew-chapter-161",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fi-m-the-cleanup-crew-cover.jpg"]