Alexander spent the rest of that first day keeping his head down. Mopping floors. Wiping down equipment. Emptying trash bins. Cleaning the combat rings after training sessions left them covered in sweat and blood.The manager's words echoed in his head constantly: Don't talk to the trainees. Don't look at them too long. Don't act like you're their equal. Stay invisible.So Alexander stayed invisible. He cleaned around the wealthy trainees like furniture, like he didn't exist. They barely acknowledged him except to sometimes deliberately make more mess—spilling drinks, dropping towels, leaving equipment scattered—just to watch him clean it up."Hey, janitor!" one would call out. "You missed a spot!""Yeah, right there! Oh wait, that's just your reflection! My bad!"Laughter. Always laughter.But Alexander endured. Because somewhere in this massive facility, Viktor Konstantin was training students. And if Alexander could just observe him, could just get close enough to confirm whether h

The moment Alexander spoke, the crowd's reaction was immediate dismissal. Heads turned away. Eyes rolled. Conversations resumed as if he hadn't said anything at all."Did anyone else hear something?" one trainer asked sarcastically."I thought I heard a mouse squeak," another replied with a smirk."Why the fuck is a CLEANER talking to us?" a trainee demanded, looking at Alexander with undisguised contempt. "Know your place, janitor. Your job is to mop floors, not waste our time with your pathetic attempts at attention."Alexander stood there, mop still in hand, surrounded by people who'd decided his words weren't worth hearing simply because of the uniform he wore.But he'd come too far. Endured too much. He wasn't backing down now."I SAID," Alexander repeated, louder this time, his voice cutting through the dismissive chatter, "I KNOW WHO THE THIEF IS!"This time, Coach Dmitri heard him.The Russian turned, his expression shifting from grief over his stolen trophy to confusion at th

Ashford's face went from pale to red in an instant. "That's RIDICULOUS! That's a LIE! I would NEVER steal anything! I don't NEED to steal! Do you have ANY idea how much money my family has? I could BUY this entire facility ten times over!""Then why would he accuse you?" Coach Dmitri asked, his tone measured but skeptical."Because he's a NOBODY trying to drag down his betters!" Ashford exploded. "Because he's jealous! Because he wants attention! Because he's a pathetic janitor who sees successful people and wants to destroy them!"The facility manager stepped forward quickly, his face apologetic. "Mr. Ashford, I am SO sorry about this. This employee has clearly overstepped his boundaries. I assure you, he will be terminated immediately and we'll ensure he never—""How do you know it was him?" Dmitri interrupted, looking at Alexander. "What are you basing this accusation on? Because without evidence, this is just slander. And if you're slandering one of our most prominent members..."

Alexander understood what Dr. Reeves had told him: he needed help from another God of War to unlock physical or mental prowess that had been lost. What exactly that meant—whether it was training, energy transfer, or something else entirely—he didn't fully comprehend.But he knew joining Fit Titans was his best chance. Viktor Konstantin was here. And if Viktor truly was another God of War, then proximity was the first step toward getting the help Alexander desperately needed.The problem was: nobody wanted him there.Coach Dmitri had endorsed him—but only out of obligation for catching the thief. Not out of respect. Not out of belief in Alexander's potential. Just cold transactional gratitude that ended the moment the endorsement was given."Don't expect special treatment," Dmitri had said when finalizing Alexander's trainee status. "You earned entry. That's all. Everything else—respect, advancement, success—you earn on the mat. Or you don't, and you wash out like most people who don't

After three days of deliberately mediocre performance, Alexander had established himself as exactly what the trainees expected: a lucky nobody who didn't belong at Fit Titans. The perfect cover for his true purpose.But not everyone was content to simply mock him. Some wanted him gone.Alexander was in the shower area after a particularly grueling training session—grueling only because he'd had to carefully calibrate his performance to appear exhausted when his body could have continued for hours—when he heard voices from the locker room."You sure about this?" one voice asked nervously."Positive," another replied. "It's perfect. We plant Coach Dmitri's stopwatch in his bag. Everyone knows Dmitri's been looking for it since yesterday. When we 'find' it in the janitor's locker, he's done.""But what if he didn't actually take it?" the first voice asked."Who cares?" a third voice said. "The point is getting him kicked out. Ashford was our friend. This nobody got him expelled. So we re