Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 361: Adjusting To The Unexpected (Part 1)

A week and some days later...

**Ding**

The elevator doors parted with a quiet hiss, revealing the sleek hallway of a penthouse. The floor was polished to a mirrored sheen, the walls a matte obsidian with narrow light strips flowing up like molten silver veins.

The sound of footsteps—three sets—broke the silence as Amanda, Samantha, and Summer stepped out, their silhouettes backlit by the elevator glow.

Amanda whistled low, flipping her flannel off her waist and letting it dangle from her hand.

"Well, this is nice," she said, eyes scanning the open foyer. "We should be in danger more often."

Samantha shot her a sideways glare, her face mask shifting slightly as she adjusted it. "It's not funny," she muttered. "This isn't a vacation. We're in the middle of a crisis."

"Crisis, spa day, new penthouse," Amanda shrugged, padding across the cool floor in flip-flops. "Lines are blurry."

Summer was already pulling her hoodie sleeves down past her palms, fingers fiddling with the cuffs. Her face mask hid most of her expression, but her voice had its usual bratty tone.

"School's a nightmare. Everyone either avoids me or tries to get dirt. Bunch of vultures," she said, dropping her bag onto the nearest couch. "But whatever. Fuck them."

Samantha shook her head, walking toward the window and pulling the shades open slightly to peer out. "I've been put on distance work. Temporarily." Her voice was tight. "They said it was for my safety, but… yeah. Sure."

Amanda flopped onto the couch beside Summer's bag and kicked up her feet. "I'm not affected," she said casually, grabbing the remote and flicking through channels on the massive wall screen. "I mean, I don't work in the city and not many people near my farm know I have a nephew…"

Samantha turned to face them. "Don needs to be proven innocent," she said firmly. "We can't just let this fade."

Amanda didn't look away from the screen. "Good luck getting people to listen."

Samantha's frown deepened. "Even after the Agency released a statement saying Director Graham gave permission, people still act like he and Silverwing just went berserk."

Summer rolled her eyes. "People hear what they want. Not what's said."

Amanda swung her legs down, sitting forward now. "What about proof? That those people were already gone? I mean—it's like rabies, right? But with those vine-things or whatever? If they can't be saved…"

Summer cut in with a sigh, pulling her face mask down to rest at her chin. "Could be months before they reach a definitive conclusion. The research is slow, the process is slower."

Samantha leaned against the wall, arms crossing tightly. "Then all we can do is wait. Wait and support him the best we can."

There was a pause.

Then Summer said quietly, "I think he's handling it well."

Samantha didn't answer immediately. Then— "Or he's just bearing with it. That's not the same thing."

Amanda stood up and stretched. "Deep talk later. I'm picking a room and ordering curtains." She grabbed her phone and started walking toward the hallway. "Oooh, or maybe a chandelier…"

Summer followed after her, waving once. "Yup. Gonna claim my space before the mood gets too broody."

Left alone, Samantha watched them go with a small shake of her head. 'Am I the only one actually worried about this?'

She pulled out her phone and checked the time. "He should be here soon," she murmured, heading toward the main hall again. Her eyes scanned the boxes still stacked neatly near the kitchen.

"Winter better not take long bringing those up…"

She paused by the window again, watching the city beyond.

The world kept moving, even when yours had stopped.

'Still. As long as he's got us—he's not alone.'

And for now, that would have to be enough.

At the same time, the sun was dying behind the skyline, bleeding slow streaks of orange and red across the glass horizon.

From the topmost balcony of Ebon Crest Tower—Charles Monclaire's perch above the world—it almost looked poetic.

Almost.

Don stood beside Charles, both of them near the glass railing, each with a glass of whiskey in hand. The ice clinked with a soft crackle every now and then, too subtle to break the silence but enough to remind them time hadn't stopped.

They said nothing at first.

Charles stared down at the city like it owed him something. Don, meanwhile, had that familiar weight in his chest—a blend of anger and calculation. It was becoming a regular visitor.

**Buzz**

Don raised his phone, thumb already moving before his brain caught up.

Message from Samantha: We've arrived.

Charles didn't look at him, just asked flatly, "Something happen?"

Don gave a slight shake of his head. "Just my family. They're here." He paused, his voice lowering a fraction. "Thanks again for letting us stay here."

Charles took a slow sip of his whiskey before answering. "Like I said," he muttered, "I'm partly at fault for dragging you into this mess. Ensuring your family isn't collateral… is the least I can do."

A tired sigh slipped past his lips. "Few places are safer than this building at least."

Don didn't argue. He just let the statement fade, like vapor off the whiskey glass. Instead, he shifted the topic—his tone more focused now.

"About your brother. What's his goal in all this?"

Charles let the question hang in the air for a moment before answering with a dry shrug.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, eyes never leaving the city. "I'm younger. Yet I'm the heir. His only real goal is my downfall."

"Still," Don said, "better to ask than assume. Motives usually aren't as simple as pride."

Charles gave a faint, tired smirk. "I suppose that's true. Especially in both our cases… wouldn't you agree?"

Don chuckled under his breath. "I suppose."

There it was again—their strange dynamic. They poked, they tested, but never crossed certain lines. It was a careful game neither seemed eager to end. Caution wasn't hidden—it was mutually understood. And strangely respected.

Charles swirled the glass in his hand.

"Barclay didn't win the seat," he said, "but that won't last. The election's at year's end. Dr. Gadget won't stand a chance."

His voice turned more grim.

"And even if Graham clears our names early, the public won't care. People forget reason when they're hurt. And they're still bleeding."

Don gave a short, mirthless laugh. "If Barclay gets that seat, our suspension might become permanent."

Charles's jaw flexed at the thought. "That would mean no public action. No narrative correction. No chance to show we were right."

He exhaled, frustrated. "I already do charity work. Trying more now would look like a cover-up. We can't intervene in any major incidents without violating policy. And our silence in the media is part of the agreement until the trials pass."

He said all of it calmly, but Don could feel the strain behind the words. This wasn't just a setback. It was a blockade.

Don, meanwhile, had ideas forming—but each one came with a cost he didn't have the time or resources to pay. Not yet.

Charles spoke again, voice lower now, resigned. "We might just have to bide our time until this all blows over."

"No," Don said.

Charles looked at him. "Got a better idea?"

Don nodded. "Yeah. We live up to the image they've given us."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "You mean… anti-heroes?" His tone carried skepticism. "They're often hated more than villains in this day and age. What good would that do?"

"We don't have a choice," Don said. "But if we lean into the narrative—unapologetically—but keep within a certain line… we might gain more control than if we just sit back."

Charles went silent, letting the thought breathe.

Don continued, "If your brother could pull off a scandal this big, I don't have much faith he won't influence the trials too. Evidence. Judges. Anything."

Charles's eyes narrowed, a shadow crossing his face.

"Maybe you're right." He paused in contemplation.

"Alright," he said slowly, like he was signing something he hadn't read in full. "How do we start?"

Don turned his gaze forward.

And there it was.

A soft glow in the corner of his vision.

—

**System Update: Status Synchronization Complete: Upgrades Confirmed**

990 Villain Points have been spent. 10 remain.

**Your Aura has increased**

Current Aura: 2734

-You now passively exude low-grade pressure. Most civilians instinctively avoid eye contact. Cats scatter. Coffee goes cold. You've become the human equivalent of bad weather.

**Your Abilities have improved**

**Enhanced Superhuman Senses (Level 4)**

You can now track targets through walls, isolate conversations in crowds, and smell guilt.

(Previously: Basic)

**Advanced Regeneration (Level 4 – CAPPED)**

Partial limb restoration now possible. Non-fatal injuries heal within minutes.

Further upgrades blocked. Evolution required (500 VP/IP).

**Intermediate Telekinesis (Level 2)**

Improved object weight threshold. You can now throw vending machines at people.

(Previously: Basic)

**Reinforced Durability (Level 3)**

You can now endure vehicle collisions, minor explosions, and most backhanded compliments.

**Partial Beastshift (Level 2)**

Partial transformations now allowed. Eyes, claws, and other selective enhancements can be triggered independently.

(Previously: Basic)

**Your Traits have evolved**

**Unfazed (Silver → Gold)**

Fear effects are now nullified. You are immune to intimidation. Emotional manipulation from enemies reduced by 50%.

You have seen too much. Nothing surprises you anymore. Including yourself.

**Manipulator (??? → Evolving)**

Now includes: Situational Leverage – Grants a +15% persuasion boost when under accusation, scrutiny, or direct confrontation.

Next evolution will trigger after a high-stakes manipulation success.

**Your Vanguard Skills have been upgraded**

**Enhanced Shielding (Silver)**

Shield now absorbs up to 300. Duration increased to 8 seconds.

(Previously: Basic)

**Forceful Strike (Silver)**

Now includes area knockback. Minor environmental destruction allowed.

(Previously: Bronze)

**Combat Reflexes (Silver → Gold)**

Reaction time doubled. Dodge and counter moves now trigger automatically under threat.

(Upgrade cost: 200 VP/IP)

**Your Tactician Skills have been upgraded**

**Tactical Advance (Silver)**

Battlefield scanning now lasts 60 seconds. Enemy weaknesses and escape routes highlighted.

(Previously: Bronze – Strategic Maneuver)

**Deceptive Flurry (Silver)**

Creates illusory follow-ups that confuse opponents, increasing chance for critical strikes.

(Previously: Bronze – Feint Attack)

**Precise Strike (Silver → Gold)**

Now delivers +50% damage on weak points with 80% success rate.

(Upgrade cost: 200 VP/IP)

**Your Public Influence Skill Tree is now locked**

Due to current public standing, Idol Influence tree progression is paused.

Fan Appeal, Charismatic Presence, and Media Savvy remain active but are not generating significant benefit at this time.

**Trust Status: Adjusted**

Samantha: 54 → 48 ("Emotionally supportive, publicly cautious.")

Summer: 35 → 32 ("Confused loyalty.")

Gary: 50 → 42 ("Unspoken doubt.")

Tori: 15 → 12 ("Thinks you might have did it.")

Donald: 30 → 25 ("Still rooting, now quieter about it.")

You have gained trust with the following:

Amanda: 43 → 44 ("More amused than alarmed.")

Charles: 83 → 87 ("Alliance reinforced. Tactical loyalty confirmed.")

Claire: 0 → 5 ("Hasn't cut you off. Yet.")

Trust with Elle remains unchanged: 100 ("Unshaken. Possibly not entirely stable.")

Sylvia's trust remains unchanged: 30 ("Watching.")

**Hatred Levels of Known Enemies**

Harold Barclay: 92 ("Wants you erased from history and from Google.")

Andrew Barclay: 85 ("Family tradition: grudge holding.")

Starboy: 87 ("Still dreams about knocking you out live.")

Mr. Xiao: 60 ("Cold vengeance. Coated in legalese.")

SHQ Internal Board (Estimated): 65+ ("They don't hate you. Just what you represent.")

**System Note: Multiple Abilities are now capped**

To evolve the following and access new upgrade tiers, spend Villain Points on evolution:

Advanced Regeneration (Capped – Evolution cost: 500 VP/IP)

Beastshift (Further evolution unlocks full transformation control.)

—

Don smiled quietly to himself, watching the sun dip lower as the prompt faded.

The game was still on.

—

A/N: Alright, Volume 3 has officially begun.

Now that most of the key players and groundwork are out there, we're shifting gears. Volume 3 is where things get a little louder, a little messier, and a lot more personal.

Big thanks for all the support so far—it makes the late nights worth it (well, almost). If you enjoyed this chapter, consider dropping a Power Stone or Golden Ticket. And if you're feeling wild? A Castle. Yes, it costs too much. No, I didn't make the price. But I'll still act surprised if you send one.

Seriously, let me know what you're excited for in the comments. More mind games? More violence? More... "bonding"?