Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 488: A Messy Visit (Part 8)

The ground floor was chaos.

Minions poured in from every breach—the shattered main entrance, the ruined walls, the blown-out windows.

They moved in formation, rifles raised, black visors reflecting the burning light from outside. Their fire was deadly accurate, each burst short, on target.

The guards that had fallen back into the mansion had nowhere to go. Trapped between converging teams, they fired blind into smoke and shifting silhouettes. Muzzle flashes cut through the haze in violent strobe.

Kasanda and Han reached the stairwell landing above it all, Abraham still between them. The sight below stopped them cold.

Kasanda’s eyes flicked over the floor—too many hostiles, too much crossfire. He crouched slightly, scanning for an opening. "Looks like they’re really coming in from all sides," he muttered.

A guard behind them swore under his breath. "Fuck, fuck." He turned to his partner. "Can we try the network? You’re a technomancer too, right? We just need to send out an alert—SHQ, anyone. A class-S threat!"

Kasanda looked back at him, expression hard. "You can do that?"

Abraham grunted, the sound more a groan than speech. Han answered instead, eyes still scanning the stairwell below. "If the systems are still responsive, it might work. Gerald Richmond’s clearance would guarantee response."

The guard brightened, adrenaline replacing fear. "Then let’s go—fast—before they storm this place!"

He started forward, but Kasanda’s arm shot out, stopping him by the chest.

"Wait," Kasanda said, tone edged. "What if it’s just as bad down there? The last thing we need is to run right into whatever hit the sublevels and messed with your comms to begin with."

The guard stared at him, wild-eyed. "You got a better fucking idea?"

Kasanda didn’t answer immediately. His jaw worked once, frustration written across his face.

Abraham spoke up, voice thin but firm. "I think we should give it a try."

Han nodded, glancing at him. "It’s risky, but he’s right. They’re using anti-superhuman rounds—no chance we survive a full barrage in the open."

Kasanda clicked his tongue, low and irritated. "Fine. But if it gets ugly, we move back up—no arguments."

He turned toward the lower hall, the flicker of gunfire below painting the stairwell in flashes of orange and blue. "Stay behind me."

They started down.

~

Far beyond the mansion, the winding forest road glowed faintly under headlights.

Several Land Rover Defenders moved through the dark in formation, engines growling low, tires grinding against gravel. The convoy moved fast, every vehicle packed with men—large, armored, silent.

Inside the lead Defender, four of them sat pressed shoulder to shoulder. The interior lights were dim, their faces hidden behind black balaclavas. Each one carried weight and bulk that made the cabin feel smaller.

Only the hum of the engine and the low static of the comms filled the air—until the dash lit up.

A female voice came through, brisk but strained. "Uh, hey, team one—you’ve got movement twelve clicks ahead. Drone feed shows a full convoy of Escalades, blacked out, heat signatures stacked."

The man in the passenger seat leaned forward, gruff voice cutting in. "And the mansion?"

A pause, then the woman’s voice again. "Not good. External cameras show heavy gunfire around the perimeter, multiple breach points. Fires spreading along the southern wing. I’m counting... five, no—six entry teams already inside. And there’s movement on the roof. Whoever they are, they’ve planned this down to the second."

One of the men in the back let out a low whistle. "Shit. Well, that can’t be good."

The passenger didn’t even look at him. "It’s not." His voice was flat, calm. "But we don’t get paid to worry about good."

Another in the back chuckled dryly. "Still—takes balls to hit someone like Gerald Richmond. These guys are either crazy, strong as hell, or getting paid loads of cash."

The man in the passenger seat adjusted his rifle, eyes forward. "No shit."

He leaned slightly toward the driver, voice low but steady.

"But we’re all three."

The driver’s gloved hands tightened on the wheel. The Defenders accelerated, headlights slicing through the dark as the forest gave way to open road—and the distant glow of Richmond’s burning estate.

———

Meanwhile, the corridor leading to the mansion’s lower levels stank of gunpowder and heat.

Kasanda led the push—Abraham still limping under his arm, Han guarding the rear.

Around them, the last handful of guards fired in staggered bursts, muzzles flashing against the hall’s surfaces as they tried to suppress the shapes darting behind overturned furniture and shattered pillars.

Rounds cracked through the air, chipping stone, punching through plaster.

The defending guards moved fast, shoving fallen debris out of their path as they reached the thick steel doors leading below.

"Open it!" Kasanda yelled.

The technomancer guard pressed both hands to the panel beside the entrance. Binary code flickered through his irises, spreading like frost across the pupils. The lock mechanism lit up, gears shifting as he worked through it mentally. Sparks flared.

"It’s sealed—"

"Then unseal it," Han snapped.

The door groaned, mechanisms whining under the strain. Then a click echoed through the narrow hall—deep, mechanical, final.

The guards closest to the front started moving forward immediately. "I’ll go first—"

Kasanda caught him by the shoulder, pushing him back. "Wait."

Han frowned, head turning slightly. His nostrils flared. "I smell blood."

Kasanda’s eyes narrowed. "Heavy blood."

Abraham, still catching his breath, shifted nervously. "That’s no good... should we maybe try another—"

He didn’t finish. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Kasanda’s head snapped to the left, instinct flaring before reason caught up. His pupils dilated; every muscle in his body tightened.

He didn’t think. He moved.

His hand shot out, grabbing Abraham by the collar and hurling him through the open doorway with a single motion. "Move!!"

Han didn’t hesitate. He spun diving in after them.

The other hesitated—half a second, maybe less.

It was enough.

The technomancer guard turned his head toward where Kasanda had looked, too slow. Down the far end of the corridor, a figure stood in the haze—a minion in full tactical gear, rifle raised, muzzle already glowing from the first round leaving the barrel.

FLASH~

The shot tore down the corridor like a streak of white light.

The bullet hit dead center—just above the technomancer’s left eye. It punched through cleanly, exiting in a burst of red mist that painted the wall behind him.

His body jerked once, the light fading from his eyes as the binary static in them blinked out. He dropped without a sound.

The guard beside him flinched, eyes wide as the next volley came.

Two rounds hit the wall near his shoulder—

the third didn’t miss.

It caught his leg mid-stride, just below the knee.

CRRNNCH~!

The round tore through flesh and bone, severing muscle and nearly taking the leg clean off. The man screamed, collapsing sideways, blood spraying in an arc that splattered across the doorframe.

Kasanda lunged back, grabbed the man by the vest, and dragged him inside as more rounds slammed into the door behind them—clang-clang-clang~—throwing sparks into the air.

Han spun and slammed the control panel with the heel of his palm. The door’s locks reengaged, steel sliding into place with a deep thunk~.

The noise from the upper hall dulled instantly.

Kasanda dropped the wounded guard at the top of the descending stairwell. The man writhed, clutching what was left of his leg, his screams raw and wet. Blood pooled fast, slicking the steps beneath him.

Kasanda’s hands were already streaked in it. His breathing came heavy, half from the sprint, half from the weight of what waited below.

He looked down the dark stairwell, the faint hum of dead servers somewhere deeper below brushing against his hearing.

He wiped his palm on his shirt, turned to Han, and said flatly, "We move."

Han nodded once, eyes cold.