Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 485: A Messy Visit (Part 5)

The dust rolled heavy across the floor—thick, choking, alive with static.

Han squinted through it, body tensed, one hand hovering near the holstered weapon under his shirt. His eyes narrowed, jaw tight. "There's someone there…" he muttered.

Kasanda, crouched over Abraham, shifted his weight and lifted the man to his feet. Despite Abraham's size, the movement was smooth, practiced. Abraham coughed, waving a hand in front of his face as the haze thinned.

"What the hell was that?" he barked, eyes wide.

Kasanda didn't answer. His focus was locked forward—toward the mangled helicopter resting in the wreckage of wall and marble.

The guards who could still stand had formed up again, weapons raised. Barrels aimed at the twisted hulk of metal.

The rotors had stopped spinning. Flames licked quietly from under the cracked engine housing, sending low waves of heat across the ruined hall.

Everyone waited.

The last of the dust settled, falling like faint ash.

Nothing moved.

The helicopter lay motionless, the cabin shrouded in darkness. No sound. No sign of life.

Han's gaze flicked from the cockpit to the shattered tail. His mind moved in mechanical assessment—checking, scanning, measuring. But there was no pattern to this chaos. No logic.

Gerald stood behind them all, brushing dust from his shirt with one motion. He reached for his phone, thumbed the screen. No signal. His brow furrowed, faint irritation breaking through his calm.

Kasanda's ears twitched. He turned his head slightly, scanning the air. His hearing picked up the creak of beams, the groan of concrete, and something else—low, irregular.

"Sir," he said, leaning toward Abraham, "I really think we should leave now. We're not prepared for—"

He froze mid-sentence.

A subtle crack sounded behind them—small, clean, out of place.

Kasanda's head snapped back instantly, eyes narrowing toward the far wall.

Then—

BOOOM~

The entire wall erupted outward.

A massive concussive wave tore through the living area. Stone, plaster, and furniture atomized into flying debris as a burst of white-orange light swallowed the space.

Kasanda was thrown off his feet, body twisting midair as instinct took over. He reached back—caught Abraham—and hauled him close as they both went flying.

"Ahhh—!" Abraham's shout vanished under the roar.

They hit the ground hard several meters away, rolling across the fractured floor as glass and debris rained down around them.

Han dropped to a crouch, forearm raised to shield his head as chunks of marble crashed against the pillars beside him. His teeth clenched as the heat washed past.

Gerald vanished into the storm of dust—his white shirt swallowed by grey and smoke.

The guards scattered for cover, throwing themselves behind what little structure remained. One lost his footing and slid into a toppled column; another fired blindly toward the explosion, his rifle spitting rounds into dust.

The roar of destruction lingered a few seconds longer—then ebbed into a low groan as the room began to settle again.

—

Meanwhile, outside.

The main road leading to Richmond's mansion burned under headlights.

A convoy of black Escalades tore through the night, tires hissing against the pavement as they sped toward the estate. The engines' growl carried across the forest road, merging with the distant echo of alarms.

At the front, the lead Escalade roared ahead, its frame armored and matte under the moonlight.

Gary was at the wheel. His balaclava covered the lower half of his face now, eyes fixed on the mansion gates ahead. The reflection of the fire from the explosion painted the windshield in bursts of orange.

Inside, the cabin was cramped—three minions with him, two pressed to the windows, rifles angled upward; another crouched in the rear seat, cradling something heavier.

Gary's voice was calm, but his hands didn't leave the steering wheel. "Kindly take care of the gate."

The minion in the back grinned behind his visor. "Suii."

He rolled the window down, the cold air hitting him as he leaned out, hefting the launcher onto his shoulder. The weapon wasn't standard military—it pulsed faintly with blue light near the barrel, energy building.

whrrr~ click~

He fired.

The projectile streaked forward, a spiral of compressed energy wrapped around its casing. It struck the gate dead center.

BOOOOMM~

The explosion bloomed outward in a violent shockwave, shredding the wrought iron and ripping chunks of the adjoining stone walls apart.

The ground shook under the impact. Smoke and fire swallowed the gate, metal fragments raining over the approaching vehicles.

Behind the wall, the defenders who had gathered to respond froze mid-step.

Some were just about to exit their vehicles—others were halfway across the courtyard. They all stopped, eyes wide, the sudden light from the explosion painting their faces.

One of the lead guards turned toward the mansion, voice breaking as he yelled into his comm: "The gate's gone! The gate's—"

Another sound drowned him out—more engines, coming fast.

Then—For a few seconds, everything stilled.

Then—

whrrr~

A faint rotary hum began to echo.

Soft at first. Low. Almost mechanical in rhythm.

It came from beyond the dust—steady, unnatural.

One of the guards, a veteran with senses enhanced past basic superhuman range, froze mid-step. His head turned slightly, his pupils contracting. "Down," he breathed, barely audible. Then louder, voice breaking, "Get down! Get the fuck down!"

Some reacted instantly—dropping, crouching, scanning. Others turned toward him, confused.

"What did he say?"

"Who's down—?"

No answer came.

Only the sound.

And then—

TATATATATATATATATATATATATA!!!~

The first wave of gunfire ripped through the haze like a storm.

The bullets hit the parked Defenders first—dense, armored bodies that rang out like sheet metal in a hailstorm.

clang-clang-clang~

But it wasn't normal ammunition.

The rounds didn't stop.

Less than a second after impact, each slug began to hum—a faint vibrato—before punching through the reinforced plating as if it were paper.

The second wave hit flesh.

Guards jerked violently, torsos snapping backward as rounds shredded through them. Arms torn free. Chests burst open. Blood sprayed in arcs across the pavement.

A man screamed beside a burning Defender, his hand igniting in reflex. Fire roared out of his palm, searing across the ground in a wide flare that lit the dust orange.

"AAAHHHHH—!!"

The flame caught two fellow guards running in the smoke—but the bullets didn't stop.

They tore through him mid-scream. His body twisted as the rounds split through bone and viscera, the flame sputtering out as he collapsed face-first into the dirt, hand still twitching.

Another man further back bellowed and let his skin shift, rippling into a dull metallic sheen that crawled over his frame. A few feet beside him, another's body hardened into rough, rock-like texture.

They both stepped forward to cover others—

—but the next volley hit.

TATATATA!!!~

The bullets tore through the metal-skinned man like drills through foil, red mist bursting from his shoulders and throat. The rock-skinned guard managed one grunt before half his head came apart, scattering wet fragments over the dirt. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Screams filled the courtyard.

Electric arcs flashed somewhere deeper in the line, one guard's ability flaring wild as he threw out a surge of blue light that crackled across the wrecked cars. Others answered with their own desperate counterfire—bursts of flame, ice shards cutting through smoke, stray bullets slicing the air.

The result was chaos.

Bodies fell in heaps between flashes of gunfire. Dust shifted again, carried by the concussive rhythm of the assault.

And then—finally—the haze began to clear.

Through the thinning smoke, the defenders saw what they were up against.

Beyond the destroyed gate, the enemy had formed a wall.

Five Escalades, lined up side by side across the ruined entryway, their matte-black frames glinting under the firelight. Each vehicle had its windows rolled down, and from every one protruded long, heavy barrels—modified machine guns, their muzzles glowing faintly from heat.

The weapons fired in sync, tearing through the air in unified percussion. Each burst made the vehicles rock slightly with the recoil, tires squealing against the concrete.

The storm of rounds didn't let up.

Alloy casings fell like rain, piling beneath the cars.

And the guards, crouched behind what little cover remained, realized too late—

They weren't facing a breach.

They were facing a firing squad.