Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

A brief hush followed the blow.

Johnny writhed on the floorboards, coughs ripping through him as every gaze locked his way.

Don didn't rush. He stepped forward with his hands still in his pockets, the scrape of his boots steady across the polished floor. Winter kept at his side, like a shadow.

Johnny groaned and rolled onto one knee, spit and froth stringing at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it with the back of his hand, eyes narrowing through the pain.

Valerie had been still until Don neared. Her heel shifted back, body drawing away from his path. Not a word left her, but her eyes betrayed her—tremor running through them as she risked a look over her shoulder at Johnny.

He had managed to plant both feet again, chest heaving under the weight of the hit. His frown twisted hard as Valerie drifted back into his orbit.

Her voice was tight, low enough that only he caught it. "What now?"

Johnny's answer wasn't for her. His glare angled forward as Don stopped a few feet away, expression bored, like the outcome had been logged already.

It was then Lily decided to move.

Her heels clicked softly across the floor as she closed the distance, body tilted in that way she'd practiced for decades. The drink Johnny had dumped earlier had spread dark across her silk, clinging faintly to her chest. The outline beneath showed, modest but perky.

Don's gaze didn't shift once.

She slowed at his side, turning her profile toward him as her voice slipped in, smooth but cautious. "I think he gets the message, sir… if you proceed—"

She didn't finish.

Winter's tone cut across hers with ease. "What she is attempting to convey is that Johnny, or perhaps those who support him, may attempt reprisal should this escalate further. Based on my calculations, however, neither he nor those backing him present a threat to you directly."

The words were delivered like a weather report.

Johnny's face soured further, jaw locking as if each word had ground against him. He spat out a half-formed line, weak. "Like I said… it's just a misunderstanding. You won't hear from me… or my people again."

Don's lips curved slightly. The look was closer to fatigue than amusement. "I don't have an issue with that."

He shifted, turning his attention on Lily for the first time since he'd walked in. "But before that—why aren't the workers here? My understanding was they were scheduled today."

The question landed heavier than the punch. A shallow pause spread across the room. Lily's lashes dipped, hesitation tightening her throat. Johnny, beside her, lost a shade of color.

The answer came from neither.

Ash pushed off from the edge of the worker knot, arms still crossed, her smirk pulling crooked. "That bitch beside Johnny told them all to fuck off."

Her voice rang with open disdain, and every set of eyes followed it to Valerie.

Ash's words landed like a knife thrown across the room.

Johnny's head jerked toward her, face paling into panic. Valerie's reaction was sharper—her eyes snapped to Ash with a glare that could have carved stone.

Trixie, meanwhile, paid no mind. She prowled along the stage edge, paw batting at a dangling chain that caught the light.

Lily's lashes flicked once in Ash's direction. Her painted calm didn't slip, but she clearly disapproved of the provocation. Even so, she didn't have the luxury of lying. Her voice came smooth. "That's true."

Don raised a brow at her confirmation, though his expression hardly shifted otherwise. "Is that so?"

Johnny's frown deepened. He cast a sidelong glance at Valerie, as if searching for a lifeline. But what answer could she give? None that wouldn't sound worse.

Before either of them could scrape together a word, Don's voice cut clean through. He spoke to Lily, tone casual, almost bored. "Well, it's alright. Since this is all a misunderstanding, I'm sure Mr. Black here will compensate me."

The word compensate hit like a gavel. Johnny stiffened. He rushed to speak, anger swallowed under forced civility. "I… of course. I'll be sure to have compensation sent over to M—"

"Now."

The single word dropped like weight.

Johnny froze. His eyes widened. "What?…"

Valerie's brows drew tighter, her body angled but not daring to move forward. Even she didn't have the courage to speak in Don's direction.

A sheen of sweat gathered at Johnny's brow. He forced a laugh, brittle as glass. "I would if I could… hah… but I don't have enough to count as compensation…"

Don's gaze didn't waver, and that was worse than a shout. His Aura pressed down with invisible gravity, making Johnny's throat dry.

The room seemed to hang in wait. Then—

Don scoffed. A faint glow rimmed the outer edges of his pupils—blue light that flashed once before fading. He raised a hand, slow, activating his telekinesis.

Both Johnny and Valerie felt their chests tighten. Her boots shifted half an inch. His breath caught.

But instead of a blow, Johnny's jacket jerked. A phone ripped from his pocket and flew neatly into Don's open palm.

Johnny stared like he'd just swallowed poison. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Don didn't even glance at the device. He extended it toward Winter, eyes still fixed on the pair before him. "Check if there's any money in this."

Winter accepted without fuss. Her finger moved toward the charging port. A small metallic connector slid out with a faint snick~, from the tip of her finger, sliding into the phone's port.

From the side, Lily's eye tracked the motion, though she kept her face forward. Ash leaned a little more weight into her crossed arms, a grin ghosting her lips as the worker girls stood rooted.

Trixie now moved in a circle across the open floor, bored with the humans.

Seconds ticked.

"Done," Winter said flatly.

Johnny's face fell further, sour curdling into grave.

"There are multiple accounts linked to this device," Winter continued. "Of those, three are fully accessible. They hold a combined sum of two million, three hundred forty-six thousand, seven hundred fifty-eight. The rest require multi-step verification I would need additional time to bypass."

Heads turned her way. Surprise cracked through the room, however brief. Lily tried to disguise hers behind a smooth expression.

Johnny's throat clicked as he blurted, voice uneven. "Look, that money… that money doesn't belong to me. Just give me a week—no, four days—and I'll get you compen—"

"Transfer everything," Don said, still staring at him, "into an offshore account under Madam Lily's name."

Lily's eyes widened before she caught herself, lips parting like she meant to intervene.

But she wasn't the first.

Johnny snapped, composure shattered. His voice went ragged with fury. "No!" He spun toward Valerie, pointing like a drowning man grasping at rope. "Grab the phone!"

Valerie's eyes flickered with doubt—then hardened. Her heel ground into the polished floor and—

BOOM!

The slab beneath her split as she launched forward, body blurring. The air snapped against her frame, her eyes locked dead on Winter.

Winter didn't shift. Don didn't either.

The rush carried Valerie across half the distance in a heartbeat. But something caught her periphery—an orange flare.

Her instincts screamed.

She twisted her head just in time to catch the reflection in her own eyes—a torrent of fire streaking across the floor.

"—tch."

She dove, rolling hard. The flames tore through where she would have been, scorching the floorboards in a streak before dissipating in smoke. Valerie came up low, crouched, grit and shards of cracked tile at her boots. Her gaze cut immediately toward the source.

Ash.

The smirk on her lips said it all. One hand extended lazily, smoke still curling from her fingers. The glow hadn't even faded from her palm. She tilted her head, eyes narrow as she locked stares with Valerie across the room.

"You little bi—" Valerie started, but the word cut off.

"Transfer complete," Winter said.

Don extended his hand, palm up. Winter placed the phone neatly in it. Without a glance, he flicked it back underhand—tossing it toward Johnny. The device smacked into his chest and fell against his palm.

"Well," Don said evenly, "I think that amount should just about cover everything. Including the damage your associate just caused. Don't you think?"

His voice was casual, the words too level to be sarcasm.

Johnny looked like a man choking on glass. Veins corded his neck, jaw clenched. "Don't you think that's a bit much… sir?" he ground out. "I already said this was a misunderstanding. I said I'm sorry. If you do this… you're putting all our lives at risk. That money—"

A ripple went through the room. The workers glanced at one another, unease spreading. Even Lily's polished composure slipped a hair, her eyes flicking quick between Don and Johnny.

Don didn't let him finish.

"Your lives."

The words dropped cold.

Johnny blinked, breath catching. "What?"

Don's eyes narrowed slightly, tone cutting colder than steel. "That money. It's so you can leave with your lives."

He rolled his neck until it cracked, exhaled slow.

The weight in the air thickened. Everyone felt it—the invisible pressure his Aura dragged into the room. Shoulders drew tight. Breaths shallowed.

"But if it means that much to you," Don went on, voice low, "tell me who to send the money to. You can even confirm it yourself… before I crush your skulls."