The Janitor Who Was A Killer

Month 1 – The Mop of Destiny

Training with Jenkins (or Killer James, as Vardan now knew) wasn't the action-packed, secret-agent experience Vardan expected. It was… mopping. Lots of mopping.

"Why am I still mopping floors, Jenkins?" Vardan groaned, leaning on the mop handle, barely able to stand. His arms felt like noodles.

"Because you can't even hold the mop right," Jenkins replied, swatting him lightly with a broom. "Balance is everything, kid. If you can't balance six plates while running down the hallway, you'll drop your opponent in a real fight."

"…Why would I be running with six plates during a fight?"

"You'd be surprised."

By the end of the first month, Vardan could balance six plates—on one arm. He even managed to withstand the occasional shove from bullies without toppling over.

Of course, Vardan acted like he was still as weak as before. Jenkins called it "strategic flopping."

Month 2 – Martial Arts and Mysterious Bruises

"50 sit-ups. 50 push-ups. 5 km run. 50 squats," Jenkins announced, tossing Vardan a water bottle.

"That's inhuman!" Vardan protested.

"Good. You're not human anymore. You're a mop ninja."

Vardan's new routine left him sore, bandaged, and ready to collapse by lunch. Sometimes, he'd sneak into the janitor's closet just to hide. Jenkins always found him.

"Sleeping in the closet, huh?" Jenkins grinned, tossing him a mop. "Good. Now, fight it."

"You want me to fight a mop?"

"It's either the mop or me."

Vardan chose the mop. The mop won.

By the end of the second month, Jenkins taught him boxing, kickboxing, karate, and even taekwondo. He also taught him the art of "accidentally" spilling water in front of bullies right before they stepped forward.

It was effective.

Month 3 – Weapons Training

"10 km run. 100 sit-ups. 100 push-ups. 100 squats," Jenkins barked, handing Vardan a broom. "Today, we enter phase three."

"Please tell me phase three isn't just 'mop faster.'"

"It's mop with intent."

Weapons training began. Jenkins handed him everything from broomsticks to doll heads.

"Why am I swinging a doll around?" Vardan asked as he smacked the air with a suspiciously creepy-looking doll.

"It builds unpredictability. Imagine the shock when you knock someone out with Barbie."

Surprisingly, Vardan got good at it. Bullies noticed.

Suddenly, when they sent him for lunch, he'd return in seconds, balancing trays like a ninja waiter.

One afternoon…

"Hey, lunch boy! I didn't say run back!" one bully sneered, grabbing Vardan by the collar.

Uh-oh.

Vardan braced for the hit. The punch landed… and Vardan barely flinched. Compared to Jenkins' brutal training, it felt like a light tap.

"OW! MY HAND!" the bully whined, shaking his fist.

Vardan gasped dramatically and collapsed. "OH NO! I'M DYING! HELP!"

The bully looked around nervously and backed away.

"Strategic flopping," Vardan whispered with a smirk.

Evening – The Truth Comes Out

After training, Vardan asked Jenkins the question that had been bothering him.

"Why were you in that organization, Jenkins?"

Jenkins leaned against his mop. "I was an orphan. The organization took me in, trained me to fight. I became their best. Until I got old. Then they threw me out like last week's trash."

"So… you were a weapon."

"Yep. And now I'm a janitor." Jenkins smirked. "Life's funny that way."

Vardan frowned. "That doesn't seem fair."

"Life isn't fair. But you know what's great?" Jenkins grinned. "Now I get to train you. And you get to clean up the trash."

Vardan stared at the mop in his hand.

"…I am the trash cleaner."

Jenkins clapped him on the back. "See? You're learning."