Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 590: Event Day 1 (Part 5)
Back at SHU—
Nothing had calmed.
If anything—
It had gotten worse.
The sky itself had turned into a battlefield.
Figures clashed high above the complex, moving in violent bursts of motion that left streaks in the air. Some fought with bare fists, their strikes cracking against one another with force strong enough to ripple the air—
BOOM—! WHAM—!
Others hovered at varying heights, rifles braced against their shoulders as they fired in controlled bursts.
These weren't standard rounds.
Each shot carried weight.
When they struck, the impact tore through reinforced surfaces or sent bodies spiraling backward through the air.
The most disturbing part—
They all wore the same uniform.
UPSDF.
One soldier drove his fist into another's guard, the impact forcing both backward mid-air before they stabilized again.
"What are you doing, Chaplin!?" he shouted, voice strained as he raised his weapon again.
The man he faced didn't respond.
His expression remained blank.
Cold.
He fired.
The round tore past the shouting soldier's shoulder, grazing flesh and sending a spray of blood outward.
"Is it a spineworm!?" another voice yelled from nearby.
"Snap out of it!"
But not all of them were unresponsive.
Some hesitated.
One soldier blocked a strike from his comrade, their arms locked for a brief moment mid-air.
"Don't do this—!"
His words were cut short.
A stray round from somewhere else—
TAK—!
It pierced clean through his chest.
His body jerked.
Eyes widening in shock as blood spilled from his mouth.
The soldier in front of him froze for half a second—
Then pushed the lifeless body away.
The corpse fell.
Spinning as it dropped toward the ground below.
Down below—
The fighting was no less brutal.
Vehicles had been overturned or crushed entirely. Some burned, flames rising from ruptured fuel lines as thick smoke curled upward into the air.
FWOOOSH~
A man was thrown across the pavement, his body smashing into the side of a transport vehicle hard enough to dent the metal.
CRASH—!
Nearby, two soldiers moved in coordination.
One crouched behind an overturned armored car, gripping a communicator tightly in one hand while the other pressed against a bleeding wound along his side.
His breathing was uneven.
"Unit Delta-Three reporting," he spoke quickly into the device. "Multiple hostiles confirmed—UPSDF personnel. Engagement is active across all sectors—" 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮
A second soldier stood just ahead of him, rifle raised.
He fired in short, controlled bursts—
Each shot forced approaching enemies to take cover.
"Air units compromised," the man behind the car continued. "Ground defense holding but taking losses—requesting—"
The communicator crackled.
A voice came through.
Calm.
Direct.
"What is the status of Commander Miller?"
The crouched soldier froze for a split second.
"And the Site Director?" the voice added.
He swallowed, then replied quickly.
"Commander Miller is currently inside the weapons storage complex with the Director and—"
He never finished.
A round struck the side of the vehicle they hid behind.
For a fraction of a second—
Nothing.
Then—
BOOOOM—!
The car exploded.
A burst of flame and force tore outward.
The soldier standing in front was thrown violently off his feet, body spinning through the air before crashing into the pavement.
The one behind—
Vanished into the blast.
Debris scattered across the ground.
Burning fragments rained down around the area.
Elsewhere—
Buildings along the perimeter had taken damage.
Sections of walls had collapsed inward.
Windows blown out.
Fragments of concrete littered the ground.
At the main gate of the complex—
A line had formed.
The group of soldiers pushing forward clearly outnumbered those resisting them.
Many of them wore expressions of confusion, anger, desperation.
Some were bleeding.
Others carried injured comrades over their shoulders.
Mixed among them—
SHQ staff.
Unarmed.
Frightened.
Being ushered forward.
"We have to get inside!" one of the soldiers shouted, waving his arm toward the checkpoint.
"They've locked the system down!"
"They're compromised!" another added. "All of them!"
Their advance was relentless.
Step by step they pushed toward the entrance.
The defending side—
Was thinning.
Above them, aerial units from the opposing side began retreating.
Falling back toward the complex.
Those on the ground saw it immediately.
"They're pulling back!" one man shouted, raising his rifle.
"Let's go!"
He gestured forward.
But—
No one moved.
His arm lowered slightly.
A frown formed.
"Why the hell are you hesitating!?" he asked, turning to the nearest group. "Our comrades have clearly been compromised!"
One of the soldiers he addressed didn't look at him.
Instead—
He pointed forward.
"Seargeant…"
The man turned.
His gaze followed the direction.
Toward the checkpoint.
Toward the complex entrance.
His expression changed.
Near the weapons storage checkpoint—
Bodies lay scattered.
SHQ personnel.
Lifeless.
Some slumped against the walls.
Others collapsed near the entrance.
Inside the security booth—
More bodies.
One dressed in UPSDF uniform lay crumpled near the console.
Rodgers.
The same man who had spoken with Director Graham earlier.
His eyes were still open.
Frozen.
Shock etched into his face.
Standing over that
Only two UPSDF soldiers remained.
Inside the booth.
One stood near the glass, rifle held steady as he watched the advancing group outside.
Rounds struck the reinforced barrier repeatedly—
THUD—! THUD—!
Each impact left dents across the surface.
The glass held.
But not perfectly.
Fine cracks had begun to spread.
Spidering outward with each hit.
The soldier didn't flinch.
His expression remained flat.
He turned his head slightly toward the other man in the booth.
"How far?" he asked.
Behind him—
The second soldier leaned against the central console.
His posture was rigid.
Eyes glowing bright blue.
Where pupils should have been—
Lines of binary scrolled endlessly.
Across the surface of the console beneath his fingers—
Blue lines spread outward.
Branching.
Connecting.
Like a network laid bare.
His body trembled slightly.
Veins along his neck stood out under strain.
"Almost there…" he muttered.
Outside—
Another round struck the glass.
THUD—!
A deeper crack formed.
Inside—
The blue lines across the console suddenly retracted.
All at once.
Zzzzzt—
The glow vanished.
The console went dark.
The soldier's eyes flickered once—
Then returned to normal.
He exhaled.
"It's done."
The one holding the rifle gave a small nod.
"Good," he said.
He turned back toward the cracked glass.
"Now we can clear a path."
Outside—
The advancing group tightened formation.
Weapons raised.
Eyes fixed forward.
The sergeant stepped ahead again.
"Move—!"
But again—
They hesitated.
Not out of fear.
Out of confusion.
Because now—
Something else was moving.
From within the complex.
Heavy footsteps echoed from the entrance.
THUD… THUD… THUD…
Then—
They appeared.
Bipedal droids.
One after another.
Metal frames stepping into view.
Their movements were steady.
But heavy.
Where their optics had once been inactive—
A red glow ignited.
One by one.
Until the entire line burned with it.
Weapons mounted along their arms shifted into position.
Aiming forward.
At the approaching soldiers.
The sergeant's jaw tightened.
"…What the hell is this…"
---
Back at SHU—
Movement had already begun.
The viewing deck no longer held any structure of order. People moved in every direction, some trying to help the injured, others simply trying to get away.
Voices overlapped, panic spreading faster than any command could contain.
"Help him—!"
"This way, the stairs—!"
"No, the elevators—!"
Near the center of the deck, Mr. Xiao had taken control of a small group.
He moved with purpose, guiding several shaken guests toward the stairwell entrance. One hand gestured firmly while the other steadied a man whose leg dragged slightly behind him.
"Keep moving," he said, voice low but firm. "Do not stop here."
A few followed immediately.
Others hesitated.
Some had already clustered near the elevators, repeatedly pressing the call button despite the flickering panel.
Ding—
Nothing.
The doors didn't open.
A woman slammed her hand against the panel again.
"Come on—!"
Behind them—
Don and Charles stood a short distance away.
Charles had his phone pressed tightly to his ear, his voice urgent.
"Yes—send the helicopter now," he said, pacing a step forward before stopping again. "And pass my message to Father. This is serious."
A faint voice answered from the other end.
"Understood, sir."
Don heard it clearly.
He didn't react.
His attention remained elsewhere.
On the girls.
Miss Claire stood upright, posture composed, but her eyes betrayed her. They moved constantly, scanning the ruined deck, the injured, the bodies that hadn't moved since the blast.
Every now and then—
Her gaze flicked back toward Sylvia.
Checking.
Making sure she was still there.
Sylvia herself looked shaken.
Her arms hung close to her body, fingers curling slightly as her eyes drifted across the devastation.
She swallowed.
Hard.
Not far from her—
Samantha stood close to Don.
Closer than before.
One hand held onto Summer, almost protectively, while the other remained near her chest as if unsure where to rest.
Her breathing was uneven.
She tried not to look—
But her eyes still caught glimpses.
A body being turned over.
Someone crying beside it.
She turned her head away quickly.
Summer leaned slightly into her, still recovering from the earlier impact. Her breathing had steadied, but her voice carried unease.
"Shouldn't we leave?" she asked, glancing toward the shattered opening. "What if another comes?"
Amanda stood nearby.
She wasn't panicking.
But she wasn't steady either.
Her brows were drawn together as she looked around, trying to process everything at once.
"What the hell…" she muttered again under her breath.
Somewhere behind them—
A man groaned.
Still alive.
Pinned beneath a broken table.
Charles ended the call.
He pulled the phone away and stuffed it into his pocket in one motion before stepping toward Don.
"There's a chopper on the way," he said quickly. "It's probably safest to move via the air right now."
Don nodded once.
"Thanks," he replied. "I owe you."
Charles gave a short breath through his nose and tapped Don lightly on the shoulder.
"So do I," he said. "Now let's go."
Don turned slightly.
His gaze moved across Samantha, Summer, Sylvia, Claire, and Amanda.
He took a step forward.
"I'll take point," he said.
His tone was calm.
Too calm.
"Cover the rear."
Charles nodded immediately.
Don's eyes settled on the group again.
"You stay between us," he added. "Okay?"
They nodded.
Even Samantha, though her hands still trembled slightly.
Don turned toward the stairwell Mr. Xiao had been directing people to.
His mind didn't slow.
Questions pressed at him.
'What the hell is going on…'
But none of it mattered right now.
