Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 127: Let’s go, Doc

Kael slammed the trunk of Clara’s car shut after stowing the machine gun, his movements swift as he pulled out two compact SMGs, their silencers gleaming faintly in the noon light.

He checked their chambers with a practiced flick, slung one across his back, and gripped the other tightly, grabbing extra magazines and stuffing them into his tactical vest.

His hazel eyes scanned the gear, ensuring everything was in place, his expression focused, a predator ready for the hunt.

"Let’s go, Doc," he said, glancing at Clara, who nodded, her green eyes steady.

She stepped to the trunk, folding her doctor’s jacket neatly and setting it inside.

Her loose white hair was swept into a tight ponytail, revealing the sharp lines of her face.

She slipped on a shoulder holster, the straps accentuating her figure, pushing up her breasts, as she loaded it with a pistol, grenades, and spare clips, her movements calm but efficient, and it only made her look more alluring.

"What are you guys doing?" Freya asked, her voice tinged with confusion as she pushed herself up from the wall, her blue eyes narrowing.

Her platinum-cyan hair clung to her sweat-streaked face, her body protesting the effort.

"We’re going to clear the sewers," Kael said, his tone matter-of-fact as he slapped a fresh magazine into his SMG. "That was the entire mission."

"Wait! I’ll come," Freya said, struggling to stand, her legs shaky but her jaw set with determination.

"Can’t we take, like, five more minutes to rest?" Rhea groaned, still sprawled on the asphalt, her crimson hair fanned out, her amber eyes half-closed in exhaustion.

"Don’t worry, you two," Kael said, his grin softening as he looked at them. "We’ve got this."

Clara stepped forward, her voice firm but kind. "You need to rest. Your powers won’t manifest properly for a while—your reserves are tapped out."

Freya opened her mouth to protest, but Kael cut her off, his tone gentle but unyielding. "You’ve done enough, Freya. Rest. Like Rhea."

They glanced at Rhea, who lay relaxed on the street, one arm flung over her eyes.

"What?" she mumbled, sensing their stares, her voice thick with fatigue.

Freya and Kael chuckled softly, the sound a brief reprieve from the tension. "Okay, but take care," Freya said, her blue eyes meeting Kael’s, a flicker of worry breaking through her usual stoicism.

"I will," Kael replied, his smile warm, a rare moment of sincerity in his usually cocky demeanor.

He turned to Rhea, who was still dangerously close to the manhole, faint wisps of poisonous smoke curling upward. "Rhea, go sit with Freya. You’re breathing in the fumes—move."

Rhea grumbled but dragged herself away, collapsing next to Freya against the wall.

Kael and Clara exchanged a nod, pulled on their gas masks, and peered into the manhole.

Freya’s ice pedestal had long since melted, leaving a dark, gaping drop.

Without hesitation, they leaped in, landing with a soft thud on the sewer pavement below.

The tunnel was a graveyard, littered with rat corpses of all sizes, their glowing eyes extinguished, their concrete and furry hides cracked and bloodied.

The air was thick with the stench of death and lingering poison, the faint hum of the blowers circulating the toxic smoke.

Kael raised his SMG, his hazel eyes scanning the shadows, while Clara mirrored him, her pistol steady, her green eyes alert.

"That way," Kael said, nodding toward a branching tunnel, and they moved as a unit, their footsteps muffled, guns ready to fire at anything that twitched.

"Kael," Clara said, her voice low through the mask, her gaze flicking to him briefly.

"Yeah?" Kael replied, his eyes still sweeping the tunnel, his SMG trained on a dark corner where something glinted faintly. freewebnσvel.cøm

"I always thought you were just lucky, or maybe it was my prayers keeping you out of the cemetery and in my hospital bed," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. "Well, my bed, sometimes."

Kael’s lips twitched into a small grin, his focus unbroken. "You prayed for me?"

"You were my favorite patient," Clara said, her tone warm, playful. "And, God!, those massages you give? I had to pray harder."

Kale chuckled and Clara joined him, the sound muffled by their masks, but still echoed in the walls of the tunnel, a fleeting moment of levity in the oppressive dark.

"So, what’s your point?" Kael asked, pausing to kneel by a tiny reflective object.

"But I see you now, and I think I understand why you’ve survived so long as a hero with no real offensive powers."

"Oh, you flatter me," Kael said with a small grin, his focus unbroken as he ignited a torch, illuminating the tiny reflective object.

He knelt, plucking up the creepy, eight-legged spider bot, its lens-like face glinting like a single, unblinking eye.

He turned it over in his hand, his grin widening.

Clara’s mind flashed back to the mission’s setup.

Kael had deployed this spider cam right after Rhea and Freya entered the tunnels, it’s feed streaming to a monitor she and Lightning Lass had watched along with him, monitoring them.

He’d known the cheap earpieces Freya and Rhea wore would fail at the rats’ first shrieks, but he’d planted high-quality, near-invisible mics on them—on Rhea’s shoulder, Freya’s pants—slipped on during casual touches earlier.

The footage by the spider-bot or the mics had captured everything: Freya and Rhea’s struggles, their moment of bonding in the alcove, their seamless teamwork.

Clara had seen Kael’s face as he watched, his smile one of triumph and quiet pride, as if their reconciliation was his true goal.

When they’d started fighting as a unit, covering each other’s backs without clashing, he’d turned to her, his voice smug.

"See that? My training. They actually learned something." That’s when he’d grabbed the big machine gun and jumped in, with Clara guiding the spider bot to track his path, her heart racing as he mowed down the scary rats with ruthless efficiency using the machine gun.

Clara’s thoughts wandered, her gaze lingering on Kael’s broad shoulders, the way his tactical vest hugged his frame.

Is it a bad idea to do it right here? she wondered, a flush creeping up her neck.

A slight push, a small flirt with exposure, and he’d have her pinned against one of these grimy walls, the danger only heightening the thrill.

Her lips parted, ready to say something suggestive, but she blinked, realizing Kael was no longer beside her.

"Kael!" she yelled, her voice echoing as she backtracked, her pistol raised, her heart lurching.

Was she lost?

Where did he even go leaving her alone like that?