Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Chapter 671: Camp Shepherd (Part 4)

By the time Don reached the locker room, the heat from the training cell had faded completely.Only exhaustion remained.

The compound felt emptier than usual. Most personnel were either assisting with cleanup efforts aboveground or deployed elsewhere throughout the city.

Eventually he pushed through the locker room entrance.

The familiar space greeted him.

Rows of metal lockers lined the walls.

Benches sat bolted to the floor.

The faint smell of antiseptic mixed with old sweat lingered stubbornly in the air.

Nothing had changed.

Which felt strange considering how much everything else had.

Don crossed the room and stopped in front of his locker.

The combination lock clicked beneath his fingers.

A second later the metal door swung open.

His belongings waited exactly where he'd left them.

Spare clothes. A small phone. A pair of aviator sunglasses.

Ordinary items.

Things he'd shoved inside weeks ago without a second thought.

Back when he assumed life would continue normally.

He began changing immediately.

Bandages caught against fabric. Stitches pulled uncomfortably across his ribs. His injured palm protested every movement.

The plain black shirt felt considerably better.

Soft and worn.

A welcome change.

Then a pair of blue jeans followed.

Then came the boots.

Those took the longest.

Lacing boots with one functional hand proved irritating enough that he briefly considered leaving them untied.

Eventually he finished.

When he stood and checked his reflection in one of the dark locker mirrors, the difference felt immediate.

The soldier was gone.

The bandages remained visible.

The cut on his cheek was still present but it would likely heal anytime soon.

But the uniform had disappeared.

For the first time since entering the city, he looked like himself again.

Don picked up the phone.

Then the aviators.

He turned both over briefly.

Emergency spares.

Nothing more.

The phone remained risky to use with military activity everywhere, but he slipped it into one pocket regardless.

The sunglasses disappeared into the other.

Finally he shut the locker.

The sound echoed through the empty room.

Then he walked out.

The night air felt cooler outside the compound.

Don stepped onto the campus pathway and paused briefly.

Cleanup operations continued throughout the university grounds, though the pace had slowed considerably compared to earlier.

Smoke still lingered in the air alongside chemical disinfectants, but the panic that had dominated the evening had largely burned itself out.

What remained was exhaustion.

And work.

As he started waking toward the exit, he noticed someone waiting near the compound entrance.

Dean Sanchez.

The man stood with his hands clasped behind his back as though he were waiting for a scheduled meeting rather than standing in the middle of a city-wide disaster.

His formal attire had suffered throughout the night. Dirt stained portions of the jacket. Several wrinkles crossed the sleeves.

Yet somehow he still looked like a dean.

Dean Sanchez spotted him almost immediately.

Relief appeared across his face.

The man hurried forward.

Nearly trotting.

"Ah, Mr. Bright."

His voice carried the breathlessness of somebody who'd been waiting longer than intended.

"It's so good to see you in good health."

Don resisted the urge to sigh.

'Even in a crisis. Still Xiao's lapdog.'

"Mr. Xiao has asked me to escort you to your transport."

He gestured vaguely toward the stadium.

Don nodded.

"Lead the way."

Dean Sanchez immediately complied.

Unfortunately, he also started talking.

The entire walk.

Something about the campus response.

Something about resource allocation.

Something about how fortunate they were that the worst appeared to be over.

Don absorbed almost none of it.

Occasionally he responded with a grunt.

Sometimes a short hum.

That seemed sufficient.

His thoughts remained elsewhere.

G-Tech.

By the time they reached the landing zone, Dean Sanchez was still speaking.

A helicopter waited near the edge of the stadium.

Unlike the military aircraft parked nearby, this one looked expensive.

University colors decorated the exterior.

The body appeared sleek and polished despite the circumstances.

Through the windows Don could already see cushioned seating and a noticeably more comfortable interior.

'Of course Xiao has a helicopter like this.'

Several SHU staff members guided him toward the open side door.

Don climbed aboard.

The cabin felt quiet compared to every military transport he'd ridden tonight.

Then Dean Sanchez climbed in after him.

Don paused.

Only slightly.

"I didn't realize you were coming."

Dean Sanchez settled into the opposite seat and offered an apologetic smile.

"Mr. Xiao instructed me to ensure you arrived at your destination."

Don considered that.

Was Xiao trying to learn where he was going?

Was he simply removing Sanchez from his immediate vicinity for a while?

Or was this his way of demonstrating trust?

None of the possibilities mattered enough to pursue.

Instead Don looked out the window as the helicopter lifted off.

The university shrank beneath them.

The helicopter banked away from Camp Shepherd and headed toward the outskirts of Santos City.

Below, emergency lights dotted the darkness like scattered embers. Sections of the city still smoldered where fires had burned earlier.

Military convoys moved through several districts while searchlights swept slowly across rooftops.

As they traveled farther from the city center, buildings became less frequent.

Industrial zones replaced residential blocks.

Then abandoned lots.

Then stretches of dark terrain broken only by occasional roads.

Ahead, the forest emerged as a black silhouette against the horizon.

Don leaned forward.

His eyes narrowed.

Beastshift sharpened his vision enough to cut through much of the darkness below.

He scanned roads.

Buildings.

Tree lines.

Nothing.

No infected.

No ambush.

No movement worth noting.

When they reached the edge of the forest, he stood.

"Just here is fine."

Dean Sanchez's head snapped toward him.

"Here?"

Alarm spread across his face.

"Mr. Bright, this is—we haven't even reached—the area isn't secure—"

Don was already moving.

His hand found the door handle.

The side door slid open.

WHOOOOOSH~

Wind exploded into the cabin.

Dean Sanchez's next words vanished instantly.

His eyes squeezed shut against the blast.

"Wait—"

The rotor noise swallowed the rest.

Don jumped.

The world disappeared beneath him.

Wind tore at his clothes while the ground rushed upward.

Then—

He hit the grass hard.

His knees bent.

Momentum carried him into a roll.

Dirt and dead leaves scraped across his clothes before he rose smoothly into a crouch.

Above him, the helicopter was already climbing away.

For a brief moment Dean Sanchez's silhouette remained visible in the open doorway.

Then the door slid shut.

The aircraft eventually disappeared into the darkness.

Don stood slowly.

Grass clung to his jeans.

He brushed it away.

Ahead, the forest waited.

Beyond it sat the industrial district.

And somewhere beyond that—

Safety.

His expression remained tired.

But settled.

He was almost there .

One more walk.

Then Don started toward the trees.