Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Daniel stood frozen, his body stiff with nerves as Don's words lingered in the air. His mind raced through every possible scenario, every potential demand Don could make.

Money? A favor? That was manageable. But something about the way Don simply stood there, silent, calculating, made him uneasy.

And then Don moved.

A slow, steady motion—his hand extending toward Daniel, palm open.

"Give me your phone," Don said, his tone casual, almost indifferent.

Daniel blinked in confusion, not expecting that request. Of all the things Don could've asked for, this was the last thing on his mind. He hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides, his instincts screaming at him to question why.

Don's patience, however, was thin.

"Now," he added, his voice edged with something that made Daniel's gut twist.

The single word was enough. Daniel scrambled to pull his phone from his pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he held it out, his voice stumbling over itself. "O-okay, okay, here, please just—"

"Shut up."

Don snatched the phone from his grasp, raising it up as his aviators flickered faintly with activity.

Gary Assist Activated

A translucent prompt appeared in Don's field of vision.

———

Unrecognized device in proximity. Do you wish to establish a link?

[Yes] [No]

———

He barely had to think before the system registered his intent.

———

Device possesses high-security measures. Facial and retina scan required.

———

Don lowered the phone slightly and tilted his head, his gaze settling on Daniel, who had his head lowered, trembling like a cornered rat.

"Look at me," Don ordered.

Daniel's breath hitched, his pulse spiking in sheer panic. His stomach felt hollow, like it was collapsing in on itself, but he obeyed, lifting his head with visible reluctance.

Unbeknownst to him, Don's aviators scanned his face, capturing his retina and facial data in a fraction of a second.

———

Acquired facial and retina data. Proceed to link with this data?

[Yes] [No]

———

After another confirmation. A new prompt followed.

———

Link successful. Facial and retina recognition grant access to passwords, photos, contacts, and certain accounts. Do you wish to import the data?

[Yes] [No]

———

Don didn't hesitate.

A percentage meter appeared in the corner of his vision, steadily rising. Below it, a bunch of open tabs unfolded in his display—photos, videos, financial receipts, private messages, digital contracts, even a list of recent locations visited.

Daniel remained oblivious, shifting anxiously on his feet as Don sifted through his life with clinical detachment.

Then Don saw it.

The pictures.

The videos.

His grip on the phone tightened slightly.

The images displayed were far worse than he initially anticipated. It wasn't just one or two instances—it was a collection, an archive of depravity.

Some of the videos featured Daniel and others—men dressed in high-end suits or naked entirely, faces either masked or barely visible. Don could already tell these weren't just ordinary club nights.

Then there were the messages. Conversations with girls barely in their teens, some younger. His most active chats were with girls he had clearly groomed into believing he was their savior, their benefactor.

The orphanage.

Don's expression didn't shift, but internally, he had already decided how this would play out. If it weren't for his own mental discipline, he might've let his disgust show. He might've broken Daniel's face right then and there.

Instead, he let the silence drag on, let Daniel squirm then after a long moment, Don spoke.

"So," Don began, tilting his head slightly as if pondering a casual question. "I wonder… does your family know what you get up to with the children of that orphanage you own?"

Daniel's breath caught in his throat.

His face drained of all color, his pupils shrinking as if the world itself had collapsed around him.

For a moment, he didn't even breathe.

Then his legs gave out.

He stumbled backward, barely catching himself against the armrest of the nearby sofa. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, but no words came out—just the sound of his breath, shallow and rapid, like an animal realizing it had been caught in a hunter's trap.

"I…"

Nothing coherent followed.

Don simply stood there, relaxed, as Daniel remained frozen, his body rigid as if struck by lightning. His wide, unblinking eyes stared at Don, but his mind was blank. No excuses, no justifications—just pure, unfiltered panic.

His lips parted slightly, as though he was about to finally say something, but no words came.

Don finally exhaled lightly and tossed Daniel's phone back to him while asking, "Speechless, huh?" his tone indifferent. "Yeah, me too."

Daniel flinched slightly but caught the phone on instinct. His fingers curled tightly around it, his breath shaky as he tucked it away into his pocket. His hands felt clammy against the smooth surface, his mind screaming at him for not deleting the things he should have, for not putting better security in place.

But it was too late for regrets.

Don watched him carefully. He could already tell Daniel was broken—compliant. That was good. But he needed to test just how obedient he would be.

So, Don went for something relatively small.

"I also saw you recently placed a bid on a one-of-one hypercar," Don said casually, adjusting his sleeves. "Twelve million, right?"

Daniel's stomach twisted.

He felt the faintest flicker of hope. Maybe this was it. Maybe Don just wanted a payout, something he could get over with. His voice rushed out desperately, eager to please.

"If you want it," Daniel said quickly, "I can make sure it gets delivered—"

Don cut him off. "I'm not interested in the car."

Daniel felt his throat dry up.

"You're going to cancel the bid," Don continued smoothly, "then send that money to an account I'll text you."

Daniel blinked, almost not believing what he was hearing. "Twelve million?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Don leaned in slightly, his expression darkening.

"Think of it as a fee," Don said, his tone still light but with a clear edge beneath it, "for ruining my mood and appetite for the rest of the evening."

Daniel felt weak in the knees.

Twelve million. Not to buy silence, not to make a problem disappear, but just because Don was annoyed?

It was a terrifying realization.

Because if this was what Don considered a minor consequence, what would a real punishment look like?

Daniel swallowed thickly, his face pale as he quickly nodded. "S-sure," he stammered. "Whatever you say, I'll do it."

Don's lips curved into a slow, amused smile.

"Yes, you will," he said simply. Then, after a brief pause, he flicked his fingers toward the door. "Now get lost before I also lose my temper."

Daniel didn't need to be told twice.

He snatched up his shirt from the floor, clumsily pulling it over his head as he scrambled for the door. His bare feet barely made a sound against the plush carpet as he stumbled toward escape.

But before he could reach the door, Don's voice called out once more.

"Oh and," Don added, almost like an afterthought.

Daniel's feet skidded to a stop. He turned back stiffly, his face ghostly white.

"Make sure to keep your phone on you at all times," Don said. "Fail to pick up one of my calls and—well, I don't think I need to clarify."

Daniel felt his stomach churn.

Don's words weren't shouted. They weren't even said with explicit malice. But the weight behind them was crushing.

Daniel's throat throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, giving a frantic nod before practically bolting out the door.

The moment it shut behind him with a muffled **thud**, Don exhaled, rolling his shoulders slightly as a system prompt appeared in his vision.

———

Quest Progress Updated.

Allies: 1/3

Pawns: 1/2

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