Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

The moment Don's voice echoed across the room, everything froze.

Not dramatically. Not with a gasp or a jolt.

Just... stilled.

T-Back's head turned in slow, suspicious increments, scanning the ceiling like it might peel open and spit a sniper.

Madam Lily, for once, had no witty retort. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced toward the walls, toward the ceiling, toward the places people shouldn't be hiding—but sometimes were.

Viktor blinked dumbly. His posture slouched slightly—part reflex, part pain. His face was still mottled from the burns he hadn't treated properly—blisters scabbing over one cheek, the skin around his jawline still an inflamed red. The remnants of Ash's flame attack weren't just lingering on his skin; they were carved into his pride.

Ash didn't bother with subtlety. She turned on her heel and bolted for the door.

She made it. Sort of.

But the moment her hand reached the handle—**flick**—the lights dropped out again. Not faded. Dropped. As if someone had ripped the power grid out by its spine.

Ash collided with something solid and unmovable just past the doorway. Her face smacked against metal—**THMP**—and she stumbled back, looking up.

Two glowing eyes stared down at her.

She screamed. Loud. Short. Real.

Her legs kicked out as she scrambled backwards across the floor, heels slipping against polished tile.

Behind her, Madam Lily's voice rang out—louder now, and touched with the thing she hated most.

Uncertainty.

"What happened to the lights?!"

Viktor, groping his jacket, said, "I've got a lighter," and flicked it on with a chk-chk-fwoosh. A tiny orange flame trembled in his hand, casting just enough light to make everyone look worse than they already did.

Then something moved behind him.

A draft rushed across the room—not natural. Not from any open door.

**Fffshhk**

The lighter's flame snuffed out.

"What the—"

**SNAP**

"AHHHH!!" Viktor's scream tore through the room as a sickening crunch rang out. His arm bent the wrong way, and he dropped the lighter as pain hit like a spike to the brain.

His already damaged face twisted in a grimace, sweat beading along the edges of his burns. The shadow tendril slithered back into the dark, its job complete.

Predator's voice echoed again—deeper this time, closer.

"You won't be needing that."

Madam Lily spun toward the voice, coat flaring behind her. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, voice rising with genuine heat now. "Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"

His voice came again—but not from one place.

"I do."

Then—he was there.

In front of her.

Not walking in. Not phasing in.

Just there.

Only the eyes visible—white and endless, floating in the dark like judgment incarnate.

Lily didn't move. Couldn't.

Her entire body resisted the impulse. And she hated that.

"Get away from her!" T-Back roared, launching forward with a telegraphed punch that might've worked on anyone else.

Before he could swing though—**shhk-shhk-SHUNK**

Tendrils shot up from the floor—three piercing into both legs and one into the thigh, angled and cruel. Another dropped from the ceiling and wrapped tight around his neck, lifting him slightly off the floor as he choked on his own scream. "ARgh!!"

Lily couldn't see much anymore—the only illumination now came in tiny pulses from emergency LEDs, barely enough to outline furniture. But the sound of tearing muscle and a man's voice gargling on his own air was more than enough to fill in the blanks.

Ash was still on the floor, trembling. Her arms shook as she pressed them against the cold tile, slowly pushing herself upright. Her eyes flicked between Lily, the tendrils, and the door.

She ran again.

This time, she managed to wrench the door open—SLAM-KHHHT—letting light spill inside.

Predator vanished the instant it hit him.

Gone like smoke in wind.

But Ash froze.

Outside—scattered in front of the door like forgotten trash—were bodies.

Six of them. Maybe more.

Hell Riders.

One had been crushed against the wall. Another was face-down with half his spine showing. The rest didn't look much better.

Ash let out a whimper and stumbled back inside.

Lily caught the expression on her face, but didn't need to ask.

A thud near her drew her gaze instead.

T-Back hit the ground—hard. The tendrils that had held him evaporated mid-air. His body flopped like dead weight, legs shredded and leaking red across the floor.

He gasped—once. Then again.

Still breathing.

Barely.

Lily's heart didn't race. Not visibly. But something inside her chest curled cold.

Viktor was crouched now, hunched over his broken arm and already scorched face, the fresh agony compounding what was already raw.

"What the fuck is going on," he muttered, breath ragged, pain warping his voice.

Lily didn't answer.

She was already redoing the mental math. Her usual tricks weren't going to work here.

Not against this.

So she recalculated.

And spoke.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Carefully.

Like someone who finally realized this wasn't a deal room anymore.

This was a warning.

An unsettling chuckle rolled across the room like fog through a graveyard. Not loud. Not amused.

Mocking.

It came from everywhere at once—no mouth, no throat, just a voice the shadows carried.

Then the hallway lights flickered.

**Flick—flick—flick**

**Click**

Out.

Whatever breath was left in the room vanished with it. Ash's shoulders locked. T-Back—still collapsed on the floor—twitched slightly as if bracing for another round. His bloodied legs quivered beneath him. He wasn't standing again tonight.

No one moved. No one dared.

Predator's eyes returned—those two unsettling white circles—floating just above eye level, watching all of them like insects in jars.

He didn't need to shout.

"The Hell Riders owe me a great debt," he said. "A debt that's now extended to you."

Madam Lily took a cautious half-step forward, her heels silent on the tile. Her mouth opened.

"I'm not with them, I—"

**Shhhhkk**

A tendril slithered across the floor and wrapped around her neck—not tight, not yet. Just there. Just enough.

"Interrupt me again," Predator said, "and I'll snap that pretty little neck of yours."

The cold weight pressed against her throat.

"If I say said you're indebted to me," he continued. "You are. The ifs and hows are of little consequence."

Lily's breath hitched. Her fingers hovered near her neck, unsure whether touching the tendril would provoke it.

This wasn't fair.

But that was the beauty in being a villain.

Fairness didn't matter.

Only power. Only control.

And Madam Lily had built her world on those things—collected favors, forged alliances, crushed enemies with elegance. But what good were those things if her head could be popped like a wine cork?

Her lips parted slightly. She swallowed hard.

"I understand."

Predator's voice dipped.

"Good."

A moment passed. Then—

"How much would you say this establishment is worth… minus its criminal elements?"

Lily blinked. That wasn't what she expected.

"What?"

"I said—how much?" he repeated, tone flat.

Confused but not in a position to question, she answered. "Somewhere between six hundred and eight hundred thousand. Give or take. But it pools more than that over time. Give me enough space to maneuver and I can pay you—whatever amount you w—"

"Good."

Predator cut her off with ease. "Put it up for auction. Three days. Local black market. You, the Hell Riders, and your staff included."

**Thud**

The words hit heavier than any tendril could.

Everyone in the room froze again—but this time, the stillness wasn't fear. It was shock. Revulsion. Awareness.

In standard business, "for sale" meant the license, the location, the logo.

In black market terms?

"For sale" meant everyone on payroll became part of the merchandise.

Ash's eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape. She didn't say anything. Couldn't.

T-Back's face twisted with pain and disbelief, blood pooling beneath his legs. He muttered something under his breath that didn't sound like a word.

Even Lily, seasoned in a hundred deals, felt her stomach shift. Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"You can't be serious."

"You wanna sell us?" Viktor said from the corner, still crouched over his broken wrist, his face a ruin of half-healed burns and panic sweat. "What the hell do we even owe y—"

**SNAP**

It was a single sound.

Clean. Loud enough to silence gods.

Viktor's body lurched forward.

His head didn't.

It rolled once across the floor—thup-thup—before settling at an angle that left one wide eye staring at the ceiling.

His body slumped seconds later, blood pouring from the cleanly severed neck, pooling beneath his knees in a slow, syrupy stream.

Predator's voice echoed one last time—lower now. Almost bored.

"Either sell and live… or refuse and die. You can run, but I will find you. And when I do, I'll show you a fate far worse than death."

The voice faded like smoke from a spent fire.

The lights came back with a **click**, one by one, restoring the office to something pretending to be normal.

But the scene it revealed had nothing to do with normal.

T-Back was gasping like a fish, twitching near the wall. Ash was frozen by the door, her arms limp, her expression hollow.

Madam Lily stood still—tendril gone—but not moving.

Her eyes locked on Viktor's body. Her lashes barely flickered.

Her hands twitched once at her sides.

Then she turned her head slowly toward Ash. Her stare was venomous.

Not grief-stricken. Not terrified.

Just... hatred. For getting her involved in this madness.