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As the NEETs stumbled in, eager for a "mandatory wash," Mark stood nearby, watching through security cameras, a grin spreading across his face. "Finally," he muttered to himself, "this world will be rid of their stench."
But the bathhouses weren’t what they seemed. As the heavy doors slammed shut, the showers above began to release not water, but gas—cyanide. Within moments, the NEETs were gone, their cries silenced by the poison that filled the room. Mark stood, hands folded, watching as the last remnants of the useless class disappeared.
The other council members looked on in horror as the truth dawned on them. The bathhouses weren’t for cleaning—they were for cleansing. And Mark? He laughed. "No more parasites," he said, turning to his shocked audience. "The world is even 'gaaf-er' now."
As the last breath left the bathhouse, Mark’s name echoed through the halls. He was no longer just the world's leader. Now, they whispered his new title in fear: "The Final Cleansing Führer."
