Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

For the next hour, he engaged in a series of exercises designed to push his body just enough to trigger his healing abilities.

He began with deep breathing techniques, focusing on his injuries and willing his body to mend itself. He performed light calisthenics, stretching his muscles to their limits, then moved on to more rigorous tasks like jogging on uneven terrain and performing push-ups on jagged rocks.

Each small cut and scrape that resulted from these activities was a cue for his body to heal, forcing his regenerative powers to work faster and more efficiently. By the end of the hour, his minor wounds had closed up, and the soreness in his muscles had all but disappeared. The training had left him feeling invigorated, his body more responsive and his healing abilities sharper.

Satisfied with his progress, Don made his way back into the city, stopping briefly to buy a change of clothes. He spent some time driving aimlessly through different neighborhoods, getting a feel for the area and mapping out potential routes and locations for future use.

The city felt more familiar with each passing minute, the streets and buildings becoming less foreign to him.

As lunchtime approached, he decided to head back home. Pulling into the driveway, he parked the car and stepped out. When he entered the house, he noticed Samantha walking toward her home office. She paused when she saw him, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"Welcome back," she greeted him, her voice soft.

"Thanks," Don replied, kicking off his shoes and walking over to her. He noticed that she was wearing a formal office outfit, though she had loosened it up for comfort—a skirt, pantyhose, and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was clear she hadn't been home for long.

"How did it go?" he asked, genuinely curious about the outcome of the meeting with Claire.

Samantha's smile widened as she answered, "It went really well. Claire is amazing. You were right about needing a lawyer—she found so many issues with the contract that we would have never noticed on our own."

She began listing some of the problems Claire had discovered: ambiguous clauses that could have bound Don to unfavorable conditions, a lack of clear terms regarding his obligations, and provisions that would have severely limited his ability to leave the program without facing legal repercussions.

Claire had also identified loopholes that could have allowed the organization to exploit Don's powers without proper compensation or protection.

As Don listened, he felt a sense of validation. He had made the right call in insisting on a legal review. Samantha continued speaking as she walked into her office, motioning for Don to follow her.

"You'll need to go with Claire tomorrow for a final review and signing," Samantha explained. "She'll make sure that the changes we agreed upon are included before you sign anything."

Don nodded, appreciating the thoroughness of the process. However, Samantha's tone shifted as she added, "But…"

Don picked up on the hesitation in her voice. "But what?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

Samantha sighed, her expression becoming more somber. "Claire mentioned that the only reason they agreed to change your contract so drastically is that they don't expect you to be a significant part of the program. Going forward, you should probably keep that in mind Donnie, they might treat you differently from the other people in the program."

Don understood the implications immediately. The organization had made the necessary changes to avoid legal trouble, but they didn't see him as a valuable asset. They likely expected him to be someone they could easily overlook.

It was a frustrating realization, but one that Don welcomed. With low expectations, he had the freedom to operate under the radar, to grow at his own pace without undue pressure.

He could see the concern in Samantha's eyes, the way her face tightened as she struggled to find the right words. It wasn't easy for her to relay such news, especially to someone she cared about. But Don smiled, easing her worries with a gentle tone.

"It's fine, really," he reassured her. "As long as I can train in better facilities and keep our family safe, it's worth it."

Samantha's eyes softened, her worry giving way to relief. "Oh, Donnie," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. She pressed his head against her chest, her arms holding him close. "It's their loss. You're going to be an amazing hero."

Don felt a bit of guilt, knowing that his true intentions were far from heroic. But as he held Samantha close, he pushed those thoughts aside. Whether he became a villain or a hero, one thing was certain: he wanted this family to be with him, to be safe and protected no matter what path he chose.

The hug between Don and Samantha lingered for a few seconds, but as the embrace ended, Don quickly shifted the conversation.

"Where's Aunt Amanda?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look at Samantha.

Samantha adjusted her glasses and sighed softly. "She said she had to go into town to deal with some insurance issues. She left right after preparing lunch."

Don immediately knew it had to do with the damage from the mutant attack on her farm. "Okay, got it."

Samantha gave him a reassuring smile before adding, "The food's in the fridge. Help yourself. I'll be in my office getting a little work done."

"Thanks, I'll grab something before I head out again after lunch," Don replied, his tone casual.

Samantha looked at him curiously but didn't press further. "Just don't come back too late. And if you can, pick your sister up from school on your way home."

Don nodded. "No problem. I'll see you later, Mom."

With that, Don made his way to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge and found the lunch Amanda had prepared: grilled chicken breast, brown rice, steamed spinach, and a bowl of fresh fruit. It was a balanced meal.

After finishing his meal, Don cleaned up and headed out. His first stop was the old abandoned steel mills on the outskirts of the city.

The place was a graveyard of rusted machinery, twisted metal, and massive piles of scrap. It was perfect for his [Telekinetic Weight Training].

As he stepped into the mill, Don surveyed the area, his eyes locking onto a particularly large piece of scrap metal. He focused his mind on it, feeling the familiar tingle of his telekinetic powers as they extended toward the object.

Slowly, the scrap metal began to rise off the ground, hovering several feet in the air. The strain was immediate—his mind felt like it was lifting the weight physically, each ounce of pressure translating into a throbbing headache.

He gritted his teeth, pushing through the discomfort as he maneuvered the scrap through the air, weaving it around obstacles and guiding it into a controlled landing. He repeated the process with various objects of different sizes and weights, pushing himself to his limits with each attempt.

By the time he finished, Don's head was pounding, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow. His telekinetic abilities were improving, but they still had a long way to go. He needed to be quicker, more precise, and more controlled if he was going to use the ability in battle.

Next, Don drove to the volcanic fields near the city's outskirts for his [Durability Endurance Routines]. The area was a harsh, unforgiving landscape of jagged rocks, bubbling lava pools, and extreme temperatures. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur, and the heat was almost unbearable, even for someone like Don.

He began his training by climbing up one of the higher volcanic ridges, feeling the sharp edges of the rocks dig into his hands and feet. At the top, he took a deep breath before launching himself off the edge, plummeting toward the rocky ground below.

The impact was brutal, sending shockwaves through his body and testing the limits of his natural durability. Pain shot through his limbs, but he forced himself to get up and repeat the process, each fall pushing his body further.

The heat was relentless, the air dry and scorching as he moved through the fields, enduring the searing temperatures and punishing environment.

His skin felt like it was on fire, but Don knew that this was the only way to toughen up, to become resilient enough to withstand whatever was thrown at him.

After hours of punishing his body, Don finally allowed himself to stop. He was exhausted, his body aching and bruised, but he could feel the gains. His durability had improved.

'All this and no achievement?' Don wondered, but didn't dwell on it. As he began to head back to his car, Don felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He pulled it out and saw a text from Summer: "Hey, can you pick me up?"

Don sighed, but he knew better than to ignore this sister of his, especially after the morning they'd had. He sent a quick reply: "On my way."

With a final glance at the harsh terrain around him, Don climbed into his car and started the drive back into the city.