Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

**10 minutes later**

The fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead as the doors slid open and Dr. Rajesh walked through, his lab coat flowing with each step. In his hands, he held two keycards that caught the light as he moved toward Don and Donald.

"Here you go," he said, extending the cards. "These being for you both."

Donald's eyes lit up immediately, his fingers anxiously drumming against his thigh as Dr. Rajesh continued, "Would you both like to be doing few matches, yes?"

Though Donald's excitement was obvious as day from the way he bounced slightly on his feet, he held back, glancing sideways at Don. His expression made it clear he was deferring to Don's decision.

Don crossed his arms, a thoughtful look appearing on his face. "It depends on whether or not something came up while I was in the game." He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and swiping it open.

**Bzzt** **bzzt**

His eyebrow arched slightly as he noticed several messages from Tori. Reading through them, his expression remained neutral, though there was a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.

[Hey, no need to apologize, I totally understand. You could have mentioned you were in the Elite Hero program though you know? 🙄]

[I guess we're even for me ditching on our taco date.]

[Not like a "date" date but a friend date, you know what I mean.]

[Anyway just hit me up if you're free before the afternoon, I have an evaluation today, I hope mine won't involve fighting a robot, lol.]

Don's thumbs moved quickly across the screen as he typed out his response: [Lol fair enough. Anyway I'm in school right now, are you free to meet?]

**Click**

The phone slid back into his pocket as Don turned to Dr. Rajesh, who was adjusting his glasses. "I have to meet up with someone so I can't stay," Don explained, gesturing toward Donald, "but you can go ahead with Donald. He's way more knowledgeable on this than me anyway."

Dr. Rajesh's shoulders dropped slightly, a flash of disappointment crossing his features before he straightened up, nodding. "Well, that being fine then." He turned to Donald, his lab coat rustling as he gestured toward a pod. "Come with me then. We will be making proper account for you, yes? Or if already having one, we sync with SHU systems."

"I'll leave you guys to it," Don said, already stepping toward the exit. He raised his hand in a casual wave as he walked away, his footsteps echoing slightly.

Meanwhile, in the industrial district, an eerie silence was broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the docks and the occasional rumble of idling motorcycles.

A collection of leather-clad figures stood at the entrance of a dilapidated warehouse, their chrome-laden Harley Davidsons gleaming under the mid morning sun.

The warehouse itself was one of urban decay - its steel walls mottled with rust patches that crept up like dying vines, while the roof gaped open in several places, exposing rotting support beams to the elements.

Ash stood at the forefront, her black leather pants hugging her curves as she shifted her weight from one boot to another. Her crop top revealed a strip of toned midriff beneath her open leather jacket, which swayed slightly in the morning breeze.

She brought a cigarette to her lips, inhaling deeply before letting out a stream of smoke.

**tap** **tap** **tap**

She tapped her boot impatiently against the cracked concrete while glancing at her watch for the third time in as many minutes. Around her, various Hell Riders members loitered with nonchalance - some straddling their bikes while others leaned against the warehouse fence, their leather cuts adorned with patches.

"Where the fuck is he?" she muttered, flicking ash from her cigarette with an irritated snap of her wrist. The words had barely left her lips when the distant sound of diesel engines caught her attention.

**rumble** **rumble**

Three neat logistics trucks appeared around the corner, their white paint practically glowing against the industrial backdrop of rust and decay. The vehicles looked absurdly out of place, like businessmen who had wandered into a biker bar by mistake.

Ash straightened up, dropping her cigarette and crushing it under her heel. "Finally," she breathed, her eyes narrowing as she watched the trucks approach.

The scattered Hell Riders moved to clear a path for the incoming vehicles. Chains jingled against leather as they repositioned themselves, some mounting their bikes to move them aside while others simply stepped back, arms crossed over their chests as they eyed the approaching trucks with curiosity and suspicion.

**screech**

The lead truck's brakes whined as it came to a stop, sending small pebbles skittering across the ground. The other two trucks lined up behind it, their engines idling with a low rumble.

"Some people really need to learn the value of punctuality," Ash said, loud enough for her voice to be heard by many, her words that of irritation.

She took a few steps forward, her boots clicking against the concrete as she approached the lead truck.

The warehouse's broken windows seemed to watch the scene unfold like hundreds of fractured eyes, while the early rays of sunlight cast short shadows across the compound.

The Hell Riders maintained their positions, creating a loose circle around the trucks. Some lit fresh cigarettes, the flames from their lighters briefly illuminating faces marked by scars and weather-beaten skin.

Their leather cuts bore patches of skulls, flames, and the distinctive Hell Riders insignia - a flaming motorcycle ridden by a skeleton wielding a scythe.

Ash's hand came to rest on her hip as she waited for the truck's driver to emerge, her posture radiating authority and displaying visible annoyance.

"Let's see what excuse you've got for keeping me waiting," she muttered under her breath, watching as the driver's door of the lead truck slowly began to open.

**creak**

At the same time, several gang members emerged from the compound as they took their positions near the gate. They then sealed the entrance behind them, spreading out to maintain a watchful perimeter.

The morning air still carried a little chill, causing a few to pull their jackets tighter around their shoulders.

The driver's door creaked open, and Viktor stepped out with a cigarette already dangling from his lips. The ember at its tip glowed bright orange as he took a long drag, his broad shoulders rising with the inhale.

Ash's boots clicked against the ground as she approached, coming to a stop a few feet from him. She shifted her weight to one hip, crossing her arms across her chest. Her eyes narrowed as she fixed him with a cold stare.

"You're late. We were supposed to start this shit seven minutes ago."

Viktor rolled his eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifted lazily in the air. "Relax, it's just seven minutes."

**tap** **tap**

Ash's finger drummed against her arm as her eyebrows furrowed into a deep scowl. "It's not just seven minutes!" Her voice grew louder. "What the fuck do you think would happen if the next driver said the same thing, and then the next? Everyone just delaying by a few fucking minutes because what does it matter if we miss our fucking window!"

The gathered gang members shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances.

Viktor's jaw clenched, his cigarette crushed slightly between his teeth. He normally let Ash's outbursts slide, but with their core members watching, her words carried more weight than usual.

In their world, respect was currency, and being lectured down like a child wouldn't do.

Taking a deliberate step forward, Viktor pulled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled directly into Ash's face. The mix of smoke and his morning breath made her nose wrinkle in disgust.

"You better watch your tone," he replied, looming over her with his greater stature. "Even your father gave me respect. Don't forget I'm co-leader."

The gathered crowd murmured their approval, some nodding along with Viktor's words. Whether from genuine agreement or simple misogyny, their support was clear in their stance and expressions.

But Ash didn't flinch. Instead, her green eyes blazed brighter with fury as she waved away the smoke cloud. "If you're co-leader then fucking act like it," she answered back. "Me and you agreed on a plan, and on schedule so everyone here got up fucking early to be here. How does it fucking look when the guy who made the plan can't even fucking follow it!"

The watching gang members unconsciously took small steps backward, creating a wider circle around the confrontation. Some hands drifted toward concealed weapons, though none dared draw them… yet.