Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

"What a shame," he said, his voice soft yet strangely cheerful. "What a loss."

Sister Rose's face tightened with frustration. "It took years to build this sanctum. Countless fleshy sacrifices to birth more children, to carry on Mother Nature's will."

She folded her arms, staring down at the pit with a cold, calculating gaze.

"But no matter. We have enough seedlings walking around. In a few more years, this city will become the first true haven for us children of Mother Nature." She glanced at the pastor, her voice filled with grim determination. "Look forward to that day, brother."

The pastor's smile widened. "I will," he said, his voice almost giddy.

Without another word, Sister Rose stepped forward, walking to the edge of the hole. She glanced down, the shadows obscuring whatever lay below. Then, without hesitation, she casually let herself fall forward, disappearing into the darkness.

The pastor stood there for a moment longer, his smile unwavering. "I will," he repeated softly before stepping forward and following her into the void.

**Whoosh.**

The room was silent once more.

———

Don and Donald stepped out of the bushes cautiously, checking their surroundings to ensure the coast was clear.

Donald still looked shaken, his eyes darting back toward in the direction of the church every few seconds, as if he expected something to emerge from the darkness. His hands were still trembling slightly, and every noise made him flinch.

Don, ever calm, scanned the area with his heightened senses. Aside from a few joggers in the distance and the occasional passing car, the street was mostly empty. He could feel no immediate threats.

"Let me call Winter and give her our location—" Don started, but before he could finish, the familiar sight of Cassie's G-Wagon barreled around a corner, driving aggressively but with precision. It came to a sudden halt in front of them, the engine humming.

Donald jerked back slightly in surprise, but Don stood his ground, eyeing the vehicle as the window slowly rolled down. Behind the wheel sat Winter, wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses that Don was more than sure belonged to Cassie.

"How did you know we'd come out from this point exactly?" Don asked, raising an eyebrow.

Winter's expression remained emotionless as always. "Initially, I attempted to track your phone. That failed. However, I successfully tracked Donald's phone instead."

Don nodded slightly. He wasn't surprised. In fact, this gave him an unexpected benchmark for the equipment Gary had supplied him. His phone had evaded tracking from an android as advanced as Winter, which was a good sign.

His satisfaction was short-lived, though, as Winter added, "However, my systems are already working to bypass the block, so I may be able to track your phone in the future. Or... did you not want that?"

Don sighed. "No, don't crack it for now."

Winter gave a small nod, unbothered by his request. "Understood. Also, Donald's change of clothes is in the back."

Don filed away the information, slightly disappointed he couldn't use Winter's full capabilities yet. Coming from a technologically modern world himself, Don understood how manufacturers often left vulnerabilities in their tech to obtain user data.

Although Winter was far more advanced than anything from his previous life, the risk still remained. That was why he had decided to have her leave the church earlier while he intervened as Predator. Until he could verify her systems, caution was key.

Don turned to Donald. "The clothes are in the back. Better change quickly."

Donald looked at Don with wide eyes, still pale and shaken from his ordeal. "I'm not good to drive right now… you can do it."

Before Don could respond, Winter chimed in. "If it's acceptable, my generation of android is licensed under United Provinces law to drive and operate most vehicles. It would not be an issue."

Don shrugged. "Well then, let's go."

He climbed into the passenger seat, and Donald crawled into the back, immediately starting to change. As Donald slipped into the new clothes, he was surprised to find they fit him nearly perfectly.

"These fit... weirdly well," Donald muttered. He looked at Winter through the rearview mirror, puzzled. "Where did you get these?"

Without missing a beat, Winter responded, "The 9-10 section of Kids'R'Us."

Don resisted the overwhelming urge to burst into laughter, biting the inside of his cheek. He could see Donald's expression twist with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Winter confirmed matter of factly.

Don chuckled under his breath, then turned to Winter. "Alright, drive us back to the mall."

Donald, still buttoning his shirt, looked confused. "Wait, we're not going home?"

Don shook his head, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his lips. "Nope, there's something else we have to do."

———

Fifteen minutes later, Don, Donald, and Winter were seated at a McDickies restaurant, surrounded by other families and groups of friends who had come for the day's special combo meal.

Winter, as always, was the most eye-catching of the three, choosing to sit in the chair closest to the corner of the table. Don ignored the stares—it couldn't be helped. No matter where they went, a tall, busty maid in sunglasses would attract attention.

Donald, on the other hand, despite having changed into more ordinary attire, still looked nervous. The fear was evident on his face.

Even though they were in a popular establishment during one of the busiest hours, he couldn't help glancing around at the faces of people who reminded him of those he had seen in the church.

In his mind, those churchgoers had seemed like normal people too, only for him to discover there was something far more sinister about them.

At that moment, their waitress arrived with their orders. She had a wild ginger afro, Caucasian freckled skin, and dark green eyes. She wore the standard McDickies uniform: a yellow and white dress, black shoes, white socks, and a hat featuring the McDickies logo.

"Will that be all, darlings?" she asked in a thick Texan accent.

Don smiled politely and replied, "Yes, that'll be all. Thank you."

She eyed them for a moment before smiling back. "Aren't you a polite one," she remarked, then turned away and left. As she walked off, Don couldn't help but notice her well-shaped, full figure.

But he didn't dare stare too long and quickly turned his attention back to Donald, who was still looking anxious.

Seeing that Don was now free, Donald leaned in with a concerned expression and whispered, "Don, seriously, I think we should just go home. What if people like them are here, too?"

Don maintained a calm expression and even gave a small smile as he began to unpack his meal. Casually, he laid out some sauce, took two fries, dipped them, and took a bite before responding.

"Well, for one, if they are here, it's probably not a good idea to act nervous or scared," Don answered calmly.

In truth, Don was a bit surprised that Donald was smart enough to consider that others like the churchgoers might be around. But what Donald didn't know was that Don had come to such a busy place for exactly that reason.

With his superhuman senses, it was fairly easy to monitor nearly everyone in the restaurant. Though he smiled every time he moved his head, his eyes were focused on one or two individuals, trying to read their expressions and body language.

The problem was that relying on expressions and body language alone wasn't enough. Don's superhuman senses had made him realize that normal people could display nervousness or discomfort in the same way suspicious people did.

So, he couldn't count on those factors alone to identify potential threats. What he was really looking for was anyone paying extra attention to them—though that, too, could be explained by the presence of a tall, busty maid like Winter being with them.

Donald, attempting to follow Don's advice, straightened up and tried to act as normal as possible. However, this only made him look stiff, though Don still considered it an improvement.

Testing for outliers in crowds aside, Don had another reason for bringing Donald to McDickies: he needed to get him to relax—at least enough that when he brought him back to Cassie, Donald wouldn't blurt out that they'd been attacked by psychopathic churchgoers.

To ease Donald's nerves, Don decided to tease him a little. "If I'd known you were going to freak out this bad, I would've insisted you stay behind."

The words had the desired effect. Donald, feeling like a coward, sat up a little straighter. It was only natural for him to feel the way he did after what they had been through, but Don's remark made him feel weak.

Don pushed the point further by adding, "Imagine if our neighbors turned out to be like those things and attacked us. If you reacted like this, do you think you'd be able to protect your family?"

Donald gulped at the sickening thought. The idea that such a thing could happen—people like that, hiding among them—worried him deeply. Don's words made him feel as though his fear was unwarranted, but they also sparked his curiosity.

From the way Don was speaking, it sounded like he knew more about these things than he was letting on. Trying to keep his voice low, Donald asked, "What are they, Don? Aliens?"

Considering what they had just seen, it wasn't an unreasonable guess. It had been Don's first thought too, but he couldn't jump to conclusions without accurate evidence. Lack of information could be disastrous.

As calm as he seemed on the surface, Don couldn't help but imagine what might have happened if his family had gone to that church on the wrong day—if they had been attacked, or worse, turned into one of those things.

Still, Don couldn't be sure of anything until he saw the news reports. If the incident was described as something unknown, it might lend credence to the idea that these were aliens—or at least, something inhuman.

But if it turned out that these were once regular people, Don would have to assume the cause was something closer to deep indoctrination. A frightening possibility, especially given the strange vines that had sprouted from the bodies of those he killed.

It would also mean these organisms could already be in his family. The situation was beginning to seem much bigger than Don had anticipated, and he doubted he could handle it alone.

In response to Donald's question, Don said, "I don't know. But this is something we'll need real superheroes to deal with. Before we report it, though, we need to get our story straight. If they find out I was investigating suspicious activity with someone who isn't licensed, I could get my candidacy for the Elite Hero Program canceled."

Don's words were half true, half false. It was true that if Donald told the story exactly as it had happened, Don could lose his position in the program. But it was false that Don cared. He simply needed an excuse to get Donald to follow the narrative he wanted to create.

As long as they sent the general message he wanted, it didn't matter what details they shared.

Conjuring up a story was just extra work to ensure Don didn't have to deal with any unnecessary consequences. And best of all, it would prove whether Donald could be trusted.

If he couldn't, it didn't matter—because no matter the outcome, Don would walk away with a monumental gain as a system prompt currently hovered in front of him.

———

**Quest Reward: x1 Permanent Beastshift**

———