Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 548: A New - (Part 10)

The tattooed man's interest sharpened, eyes lighting up. The man with glasses and the one with dreads both glanced at Johnny without meaning to.

Johnny laughed again. It came out thin. "Wow. That's rough. What happened?"

Normally, Johnny handled pressure better than this. Don could see the strain in his shoulders, the way his hands kept moving without purpose.

Lily was probably right.

"The Deadly Damsels got hit," Don said.

Johnny reacted fast. "That area can get pretty dangerous," he said. "But don't worry, I'll put my people on it and contact Lily—"

"Oh?" the tattooed man cut in. "You own the DD?" He grinned. "Didn't know that. Shit, I used to hang there a lot when I was still… uh." He waved a hand vaguely. "New in town. I hear things changed."

Johnny shot him a hard look. "That's enough, Dominik," he snapped. "I'm sure our friend here is in a rush."

Don shrugged. "Well, I—"

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out just long enough to glance at the screen.

Winter: Systems breached.

I have more than enough usable material. His security is embarrassing.

Some lower-level servers beneath the house require a direct physical link to access or probe further.

Do you want me to attempt it?

Johnny noticed.

The moment Don looked down, Johnny's composure slipped another notch. "Uh—gentlemen," he said quickly, "why don't you help yourselves to the entertainment while I talk with my friend here?"

Don typed a short reply.

Don: No. Let's go.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and smiled. "No need. A very reliable source says they already have the information I need" He stood. "Sorry for interrupting."

He turned to leave.

"Hey," Dominik called after him, amused. "You gonna teach the people responsible a lesson?"

Don paused.

Then he shook his head. "No."

He glanced back over his shoulder.

"A whole syllabus."

And he walked away, tone casual to the end.

As he left the poolside, the music swallowed him again.

Johnny stayed where he was, watching Don's back disappear into the house, concern written plainly across his face.

Don's stride didn't slow.

This encounter had been brief. Unplanned.

But it told him something important.

If he wanted real leverage, real respect, he couldn't save his teeth for when he wore Predator's name. He'd have to become harder as Don Bright too.

Just smarter about it.

----

The following night, just past eleven, Don was out again.

He sat on the edge of a weathered industrial rooftop not far from the port, boots hanging over the side. A black hoodie clung to his frame, hood down, sleeves pushed slightly up at the wrists.

Black jeans. Black boots, a little scuffed from use rather than age. He looked like he belonged to the building—forgotten, hard to notice unless you were looking for him.

Below, the port stayed busy.

Not lively. Not loud. Just active.

Containers slid along tracks. Cranes pivoted in slow arcs. Massive ships rested in their berths like sleeping beasts, lights dotting their hulls as crews moved cargo through the night.

Don wasn't watching any of that.

He rested a digital pad against his thigh, one hand steadying it, the other scrolling through feeds. The image on-screen was grainy, slightly washed from distance and interference, but clear enough.

A private docking section.

Fishing boats and small sailing vessels bobbed against their moorings. On one of them, activity clustered tight—not work, not routine.

Guards in black stood along the dock and on nearby platforms. Some leaned back against railings, scanning outward. Others stood with arms crossed, eyes flicking between access points.

The boat itself had fewer guards.

At the front deck, Johnny stood smiling, posture deferential in a way Don hadn't seen from him before.

Next to him was another man—bald, Hispanic, older than forty. He wore a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled, jeans that fit without effort, and held a glass of amber liquid that caught the dock lights when he lifted it.

Whiskey, most likely.

Johnny laughed at something the man said, nodding along, hands open as he spoke. Even without audio, the hierarchy was obvious.

Gary's voice came through the pad's speaker, low and clean. "Judging by the cargo being unloaded, that should be one of Johnny's suppliers. I'll run his face through the system."

"Can you confirm it's drugs or guns?" Don asked. "I don't want to waste time if it's not. We can't afford to let this chance slip."

"I'm sure, sir," Gary replied.

Don swiped the screen.

The feed shifted.

Another section of the port came into view, closer to the waterfront. Two guards dragged a body bag across the concrete. One kicked at it to adjust his grip, head tilted as he spoke.

"Whose this sorry fucker?"

The other shrugged. "No idea. Heard he let someone dangerous into the boss's place. Dumb fuck."

They laughed as they hauled the bag toward a waiting vehicle.

Don watched for a second only because it had no audio as well, then swiped again.

A container yard appeared. Crates were being lowered, stacked, shifted. Valerie Kross stood near one of the open containers, posture firm as she directed guards with quick gestures. Trucks idled nearby, engines rumbling as they waited to be loaded.

Gary spoke again. "Your visit to his residence caused a noticeable reaction. He's relocating assets from several properties, increasing personal security. He appears to be expecting an attack."

Don didn't look away from the screen. "Good thing it's not us attacking."

He paused, then spoke aloud. "Winter. How far?"

"They should arrive soon," Winter's voice replied through the speaker.

"Good."

He settled back against the edge of the roof, eyes returning to the first feed as it resurfaced.

Down below, Johnny had no idea.

He leaned closer to the older man, smile wide, voice smooth as he spoke, gesturing out toward the ships and the moving cargo.

"Trust me, El Padrino," Johnny said, tone almost eager. "With the Serbs expanding their reach and the BKB stepping in, the whole city's gonna be using your product. You'll have a monopoly."

The older man lifted his glass, considering.

Above them all, unseen, Don kept watching.

----

Author's Note

For the past few chapters, the goal was to widen the lens a bit and start laying groundwork for the city's underbelly.

I wanted to establish just enough structure to make future moves make sense, without committing to a slower, deep-dive arc right now. Going that route at this stage would've meant an avalanche of info-dumping. And yes, I'm aware I already do that but we're not trying to set a new record.

This isn't the point where that side of the story fully takes over yet. Consider this a step in that direction while other pieces continue to come together.

If you're enjoying the story, feel free to toss a Power Stone, Golden Ticket, or—if you're feeling especially reckless—a small gift.

And if you've got questions, theories, or complaints you'd like to voice loudly, drop by the Discord and ask. I'm probably lurking.