Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Amanda grabbed a slice of pizza with her eyes still fixed on the TV screen. "I would've taken the money," she said between bites, gesturing at the contestants on the show. "The mystery prize is almost never worth it."

Samantha, lounging next to Don, wiped her fingers on a napkin before chiming in, "Not always. One time, someone won a trip to Bora Bora. That has be worth more than the money, right?"

Amanda shrugged, not convinced. "Chances of that happening are low. I'd rather take the guaranteed cash."

The show's host was building up the tension, his exaggerated enthusiasm filling the hall the show took place in. "Ladies and gentlemen, the mystery prize is…" he trailed off dramatically for the sake of buildup.

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But just before the reveal, the screen flickered, and the show was suddenly interrupted by a news broadcast.

**Click.**

The lively atmosphere of the game-show was replaced by as a serious-faced newswoman sitting at her desk. "We interrupt this program to bring you a breaking news story," she announced, her tone professional. "A major accident occurred earlier today on the Old Santos Road, involving a truck carrying logs and the notorious Hell Riders gang."

Don's body tensed ever so slightly, but he kept his expression neutral, his eyes still on on the screen. Samantha absentmindedly took another bite of pizza, her focus now on the news.

The reporter continued, "Police confirm that there were no survivors. Initial reports suggest the heavy mist in the area may have played a role, along with the reckless driving of the Hell Riders."

The living room fell quiet but no one seemed to shaken by the report, after all in a superhuman world, breaking stories happened every week.

Amanda, still chewing on her pizza, frowned but didn't comment, her attention also fixed on the news.

Don kept watching. 'No survivors, good,' he thought. That part didn't surprise him—he made sure of it. But as the reporter went on, something caught his attention.

"Despite reports from witnesses claiming to have heard gunfire," the reporter added, "the police have dismissed this, stating there is no evidence to support such claims. Commissioner Batemen, when asked about road safety in the outer parts of the city earlier today, commented that he hopes to work on those issues with the next elected mayor.

He added that it's a shame about the innocent truck driver who lost his life, but good riddance to the gang members involved."

Don's brow furrowed slightly. 'Dismissed?' he thought, his mind immediately analyzing the situation. 'Why are they hiding the fact that gunfire was involved?' There was no way the police didn't know—hell, the scene practically had guns and bullets scattered across the road. The mist couldn't have hidden everything.

As he pondered this, Don caught a glance from the corner of his eye—Summer, watching him, her expression unreadable. She quickly looked away, but it was enough to make Don's mind shift gears.

'She has to be a little suspicious,' he realized, remembering the bullet holes in his car. He couldn't let his guard down. If Summer asked about it again, he'd have to stick to his original story and sell it—hard. Or, if it came to it, come clean. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

The news program continued, but Don's thoughts were now elsewhere.

Meanwhile, across town, in one of Santos City's most exclusive neighborhoods, Harold Barclay stood on a terrace overlooking the sprawling cityscape. The glow of the city lights stretched beneath him as he swirled the ice in his whiskey glass, his face set in a deep frown.

In his other hand, a flip phone was pressed to his ear, a call connecting.

**Click.**

"Victoria," Harold began once the call connected, his voice full of frustration. "Care to explain to me why the people you sent out are dead and plastered all over the city news?"

He took a sip from his glass, his frown deepening as he awaited her response.

A calm, sultry voice came through the receiver. "Harold," Victoria purred, her tone as smooth as silk. "Calm down. Either the boy got lucky, or the people we sent underestimated how capable he really is." There was a pause before she added, "For caution's sake, let's assume it's the latter."

Harold's grip tightened on the phone, his patience wearing thin. "There's no underestimation here," he growled. "The boy is a bug that needs squashing. I shouldn't even be wasting my time talking about this."

Victoria remained calm, unbothered by his outburst. But before she could respond, Harold cut her off, his voice colder now. "Do what I pay you to do, and stop trying to act smart with me. There are plenty of others who would be more than happy to take your place, Victoria. Remember that next time you consider failing me."

**Click.**

He hung up before she could reply, the soft clink of the phone closing barely audible as he took another drink of his whiskey. The cool evening air did little to soothe his irritation.

Meanwhile, in a mid-sized, luxurious marble bathroom, Victoria lounged in a bathtub surrounded by scented candles and rose petals floating lazily on the water's surface. A glass of red wine rested in her hand, the steam from the bath rising gently around her.

She let out a soft sigh, placing the flip phone down onto a nearby marble stool with a delicate **clink**. "What an impatient man," she muttered, her voice carrying a note of exasperation. "Does he really think my goal in life is to please a man-child like him?"

A quiet **meow** caught her attention. Victoria glanced over the edge of the tub to see a fluffy white cat padding gracefully across the bathroom floor. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she leaned over to stroke the cat's soft back.

"What do you think, Penelope?" she asked, her voice light as her fingers trailed through the cat's fur. Penelope purred in response, arching her back slightly under Victoria's gentle touch.

Victoria let out a soft chuckle, placing her glass of wine down next to her and picking up a book from the marble stool. The title, *The Midnight Killer's Game*, gleamed in silver letters on the dark cover. She opened it to the bookmarked page, her smile fading slightly as she sighed and muttered, "Impatient men are truly the worst."

———

After the news report ended, the game show flickered back onto the screen, but the excitement had already passed. A woman stood there holding a couple of GoMart coupons, the apparent mystery prize.

Amanda chuckled and leaned forward, grabbing another slice of pizza. "Ha! See? I knew the mystery prize would suck," she said, shaking her head with amusement.

Samantha, more sympathetic, frowned slightly. "I feel bad for her," she said, wiping her hands on a napkin. "She seems like a good person who really deserved to win something better."

Amanda shrugged again, taking a bite of her pizza. "Yeah, but that's the game, right?"

Samantha sighed, then brightened up as she glanced around the room. "Anyway, it's Friday night. How about a movie?" she suggested, her tone casual but hopeful. "We haven't done that in a while as a family."

Amanda immediately perked up. "That's a great idea! I can't even remember the last time we all watched something together."

Don leaned back on the sofa, considering the offer. Normally, he'd be up for a movie, but with everything that was going on, his mind was elsewhere.

The threats to his life, the goons and the delicate balance he was trying to maintain with his new family—it all weighed heavily on him. He knew a movie could help bond them, but right now, he needed to focus on staying ahead of the dangers lurking around him.

He stretched his arms above his head and let out a yawn. "As fun as that sounds, I think I'm gonna call it a night," he said, faking another yawn for effect. "I'll just do a little reading before bed."

Samantha's face fell slightly, her disappointment evident. "Oh, okay…" she said, forcing a small smile. "You've probably had a long day."

She thought back to what Claire had told her about the fight Don had gotten into at the United Hero Management Agency HQ. She suspected he might even be hiding an injury from her. 'Maybe I'll check on him later if he's still awake,' she thought, worry creeping into her mind.

Don stood up and stretched again, this time for real. "Yeah, in case I don't come back out, goodnight," he said, offering a brief wave.

"Aww, Donnie's become such an old man!" Amanda teased, pouting playfully as she looked up at him. "What happened to staying up all night playing games?"

Don chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I guess I value a good night's sleep now," he replied. "But you guys enjoy the movie."

"Alright, goodnight, sweetie," Amanda said, smiling warmly before turning to Summer. "What about you? You leaving too?"

Before Summer could answer, Don cut in with a grin. "Oh, you should all watch that horror series Summer showed me. It's pretty good."

Samantha and Amanda exchanged interested glances. "A horror series, huh?" Samantha said. "That could be fun."

With their attention now focused on the movie choice, Don seized the opportunity to slip away.

He knew Summer might have followed him out to ask questions, but now he had a buffer.