Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Back inside the church, Donald's heart pounded in his chest, his pulse so loud in his ears that he barely registered the quiet **creak** of the door as the vines behind it fully sealed it.

His body was frozen, but his mind was in overdrive, desperately trying to figure out what to do next. He hadn't expected this. At all.

Turning slowly, he came face to face with something straight out of a nightmare. Every single person in the church, those who had been sitting motionless and eerily quiet just moments ago, now stood, their heads turned toward him.

Their blank expressions changed into ominous smiles as their eyes glinted with something unnatural.

Before he could process the sheer horror of the scene, Sister Rose's voice echoed throughout the space, sending a chill down Donald's spine.

"Leaving so soon?" Her tone was as sweet as honey, but sounded so venomous that it made his skin crawl. The smile she wore was even more chilling.

Donald's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He was sweating, his hands trembling as they fumbled at his sides. "Uh…"

Sister Rose's smile widened. "Bring him to me," she commanded, her voice carrying a strange, almost hypnotic power.

As if they were one body, every person in the church responded in unison, "Yes, Sister Rose."

Donald's face twisted in disbelief. His mind screamed at him, 'they're going to kill me'. But his body refused to move, locked in place by sheer panic.

From the earbud hidden in his pocket, Don and Winter heard the entire exchange.

Winter's cold, analytical voice commented. "That doesn't sound good."

Don sighed, his expression hardening. "No, it doesn't." The plan had definitely taken a sharp turn for the worse, but he wasn't about to abandon it.

Just as he began to think through a solution, a system prompt flashed in front of his eyes.

———

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**Villain Quest Activated**

**Objective: Slaughter At Least 10 People And Drain The Souls Of Five**

**Reward: ??**

———

Don's breath caught, his eyes narrowing at the message. A brief silence stretched between him and Winter before he finally spoke, his voice low. "Winter, disconnect from the call and go back to the car park. Wait near the car."

Winter tilted her head slightly, though her face remained as expressionless as ever. "I'm more than capable of retrieving Donald if you allow me to," she stated, her voice calm.

Don shook his head, a small smirk appearing on his lips. "It'll be fine. Now go."

Winter hesitated, the data running through her mind telling her this wasn't a situation that fit Don's Class D status. In fact, her internal assessments indicated it was closer to Class C. "This situation poses significant risk. You may be making a human error." She warned.

"Just go," Don insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Winter paused only for a moment before finally responding. "Affirmative." She disconnected from the call, turned, and left without another word.

Don leaned back against the tree, slipping into the shadows. He muttered under his breath, "Enshroud." His body shimmered briefly, vanishing from sight as the shadows wrapped around him like a second skin.

———

Inside the church, Donald's panic reached new heights. He watched in horror as the people around him moved, their smiles growing wider, more twisted. They began to charge at him, their footsteps echoing ominously as they did, with their eyes never wavering from him, as if locked in a predator-like focus.

Donald's hands shook, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. 'There's gotta be a way out,' he thought desperately, his green eyes glowing faintly as adrenaline kicked in. His legs began to tap rhythmically, his body reacting before his mind could catch up.

One of the churchgoers reached him first, arms outstretched, a grotesque smile plastered on their face. Donald's eyes widened in terror. "Ahhh!" he screamed, his voice cracking.

But instead of stumbling backward or freezing, his body moved with unnatural speed. In what felt like the blink of an eye, Donald covered the length of the church, crashing into a door near the altar with a resounding **thud**.

The entire church seemed to freeze in place, all eyes turning toward him in unison. Their surprise was immediate, though their expressions remained rather blank and unreadable. All except for Sister Rose, who stood near the center of the room, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I've changed my mind," she said, her voice cold now, devoid of the sweetness it once carried. "Capture him and take him to the pods."

The churchgoers responded as one, "Yes, Sister Rose."

She turned to two particularly tall men who stood at the far end of the room, men who looked like ordinary churchgoers on any other day. But now, their presence seemed far more sinister.

"Check outside in case he didn't come alone," she ordered. "This sanctum may have been compromised."

Donald, still standing in front of the door, stared at Sister Rose in wide-eyed horror. She hadn't moved an inch toward him.

Sister Rose smiled, her voice taunting. "Go on, little lost lamb. Run."

Donald's skin crawled at the sound of her voice. His instincts screamed at him to flee. He turned, fumbling with the handle of the old wooden door behind him. His hands shook violently, making the task feel impossible.

———

High above, concealed in the dark recesses near the ceiling, Don watched the scene unfold, his eyes narrowing as Donald fumbled with the door in a blind panic. The churchgoers moved toward him again, their steps slower this time.

**Creak**. The door finally groaned on its hinges as it slowly swung open under Donald's frantic hands.

Don's shadowy form remained still, his arms crossed as he silently observed, calculating his next move. His gaze followed the two tall men as they began to make their way toward the church's entrance, likely searching for him.

Donald, on the other hand, was nearly paralyzed with fear as he stumbled through the door and ran, his heart pounding in his chest.

Don's eyes followed Donald as he bolted past the door, disappearing into the unknown. For a moment, Don wondered why Sister Rose hadn't pursued.

Was it possible that she didn't possess offensive powers? Maybe. But it was safer to assume she did as underestimating her could be a deadly mistake.

Time was not on his side either, and with Donald in danger, Don decided to act.

From his vantage point above, he surveyed the church. Shadows gathered in every corner—thick, dark pools between the benches, the spaces near the walls cloaked in shadow. The people rushing toward the door Donald had run through passed by perfect spots for him to strike.

His eyes narrowed as he moved silently through the darkness, his figure fading into the void.

Beneath him, the first to pass through the shadows was a woman, her hurried steps taking her right between two benches. Don's fingers twitched, and from the darkness between the wooden benches, a shadowy tendril shot out with lightning speed.

**Snap**. The tendril coiled around her leg and wrenched it backward with brutal force, the bone shattering with an audible crack. She stumbled, her face twisting in pain, but she didn't scream. Instead, she collapsed onto the floor, dragging herself forward with a strange, unnatural determination.

The next was a man, his pace quick and frantic as he followed closely behind. Don waited, his eyes tracking the man's steps, and just as he crossed a shadow cast by the wall, a thin black tendril slithered up and **stabbed** through his foot.

The man crumpled to the ground, his foot pinned by the shadowy spike. He looked down in shock but didn't pause. Instead, he began crawling forward, dragging his wounded body toward the door as if nothing had happened.

Another woman, her eyes wild, passed too close to the walls and … **Thud**. A tendril lashed out, this time snapping both her ankles with a sickening crack. She hit the ground, her legs limp and useless, but like the others, she didn't stop. She clawed at the floor, her hands bloodied as she dragged herself along, inching toward the door Donald had run through.

Don's gaze flickered to the last two nearing shadows, both men, who were rushing side by side.

As they passed through another patch of darkness, tendrils of shadow shot out from the walls like black snakes. One wrapped around the first man's leg and **twisted** hard, breaking his tibia in one swift motion.

He fell, his mouth agape, but not a sound escaped him. The second tendril impaled the other man's ankle, pinning him to the floor, yet he too continued to crawl forward, their movements mechanical and unnerving.

Don watched them writhe and drag themselves across the cold stone floor, like mindless insects, ignoring their broken bodies as they pressed toward the door. 'These people… they're not normal.'

For a brief moment, those who hadn't been attacked looked around in surprise, their confusion evident. Their heads swiveled toward Sister Rose, silently pleading for instruction.

Sister Rose glanced around cautiously, her eyes narrowing in confusion. Don could tell, even from above, that she was worried. But her face remained composed, her expression calm and commanding.

"Only two of you go after him," she ordered. "The rest of you, clear our presence from the church quickly—and burn it."

The remaining individuals responded immediately, their movements mechanical once more as they began to clear the area, rushing toward various objects in the church.

Sister Rose, on the other hand, turned and walked toward a section of the church bathed in light from wall-mounted candles. She moved with eerie grace as she made her way toward the door at the far end.

If Don wanted her, he'd need to follow her. But the darkness there was scarce—too scarce to be of much use. It would be a risk, one that might not pay off. Worse, following her would mean leaving Donald exposed, increasing the likelihood that he'd be caught.

Don's eyes narrowed as he considered his options. 'Let's do the quest first.' Sister Rose disappeared behind the door as Don's figure vanished into the shadows above, the darkness swallowing him whole.