Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Don exited the room and made his way down the creaky staircase, finding Trixie leaning against the bottom rail near the last step with a bored expression.

"What do you think of the room?" she asked, perking up a bit as she saw him.

"It was alright," Don replied, not wanting to say more than that. "Let's go."

He took the key card over to the receptionist, leaving it on the counter. "Thanks," he said casually. The receptionist gave him a nod without looking up from his work. Trixie then energetically waved and said goodbye as she and Don left the hotel.

Outside, the sunlight seemed harsh compared to the dim lobby. Don turned to Trixie and said, "I'm getting picked up soon, and it won't look good if you're here."

Trixie pouted. "Are you telling me to leave?"

"Look," Don said, trying to sound as reasonable as possible, "having to explain who you are and why we're together will be problematic. It's not worth the hassle."

In truth, he didn't want her to ruin the interaction he had planned with her bold and direct nature. Trixie rolled her eyes. "Come on, Don. You're such a downer."

Don decided to take a firm stance. "It's just less of a hassle. Unless you want me to struggle more, it's better if you head back."

Trixie sighed, her shoulders dropping. "Fine. Gary probably needs my help anyway, but I'll be back for a nice thick meal."

Without uttering another word, Trixie ran into a nearby alleyway and disappeared in a puff of pink smoke before Don could ask help it was that Gary needed. Her exit drew the attention of several onlookers. A few men followed her into the alley, with curious or maybe even dangerous intentions.

Meanwhile, Don noticed a group of five individuals approaching from across the street. They walked with a hurried pace, clearly taking advantage of the fact they were less people on the scene.

There were two girls and three guys, each with distinct features.

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One girl, tall and athletic, had short blonde hair and wore a leather jacket. The other girl, petite with curly red hair, sported a punk rock look with multiple piercings. Of the three guys, one was broad-shouldered and muscular, with a buzz cut and tattoos peeking out from his sleeves. Another, slimmer with glasses, was more quiet looking but had this intensity to his look.

The last one, of average build with shaggy brown hair, had a mischievous smile on his face.

As the group approached, the girl with curly red hair stopped near a lamp post and leaned on it, blowing bubblegum and looking around with a bored expression. Don immediately felt this was trouble.

He immediately tried to head back into the hotel, but found the door locked. His face turned sour, and he cursed under his breath, "Fuck."

The footsteps grew louder behind him, his heart pounding faster from anxiety and understandable fear.

One of the male's voices then broke the silence. "Where you going?"

Don gulped, trying to maintain a steady voice. "I just forgot something in the hotel."

He then felt a strong grip on his shoulder, and as he tried to turn, he heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being pulled out.

A sharp point pressed against his back, and the same male voice suggested, "How about you leave your suitcase and bag with us? We'll hold it for you."

Panic surged through Don. He was racking his mind, but he couldn't think of an immediate solution. His heart rate climbed, and his body felt a strange pressure.

Suddenly, the man's words seemed to echo louder in Don's ears, making him wonder if it was a superpower. Then, he noticed his senses sharpening—he could smell the stale beer from the alley, the sweat of his assailants, and even the faint scent of bubblegum.

The knife's position against his back became acutely clear. His muscles tensed reflexively, as if preparing for action. His heightened senses allowed him to detect the exact placement of the threat. He could feel the cold metal through his shirt and the slightest movements of his attacker's hand.

"Don't do anything stupid," the voice warned.

Don's mind was a mess. He needed to buy time and find a way out. "Okay, okay," he said, trying to sound compliant. "Just… don't hurt me."

The grip on his shoulder tightened, and the knife pressed harder against his back. His newly awakened senses screamed at him to act, to do something. He could hear the shallow breaths of his attackers, the quiet rustle of their clothes. Every detail was crystal clear.

The girl with the red hair blew another bubble, the pop loud in his ears. "What's taking so long?" she called out lazily.

"Shut up, Roxy, we got this," one of the guys snapped back.

Don's mind focused on the knife and the grip on his shoulder. His body, now hyper-aware, was ready to react. He just needed to decide whether he was really going to risk it by fighting back or if it was better to just give up.

Don heard that the voice telling the girl called Roxy to shut up came from the person holding his shoulder. This was his best chance to act if he was going to at all.

He worried he might not be able to beat them, but there was no guarantee they'd leave him unharmed if he complied. Most of all, his instincts screamed at him to attack.

Using his superhuman senses, Don focused on the knife and the hand gripping his shoulder. He felt every subtle shift in the attacker's grip, every tiny movement of the knife. His body reacted with heightened reflex. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what came next.

In a swift motion, Don twisted his body, pushing his shoulder into the attacker's chest while simultaneously grabbing the wrist holding the knife. His reflexes mostly guided him, giving him the strength and accuracy he needed.

He first wrenched the knife away, feeling the blade slice across his palm. *Argh* Pain shot through his hand, but he didn't let it slow him down.

The assailant staggered back, surprised by the sudden resistance. But Don didn't stop there. He swung his elbow again, but this time into the man's face, feeling the impact reverberate through his arm. The grip on his shoulder loosened, and Don seized the opportunity to break free.

The other members of the group reacted, but Don's heightened senses kept him one step ahead. He ducked as one of them swung at him, the movement almost instinctual. Another tried to grab him, but Don kicked out, hitting the attacker in the knee and causing them to stumble.

Blood dripped from his wounded hand, but the adrenaline kept him moving without even glancing at it. He could hear Roxy cursing, the sound of her gum popping again as she moved towards him as well. Don turned, brandishing the knife defensively. His senses were on overdrive, making every sound, smell, and sight sharper.

"Stay back!" Don shouted. The group hesitated, thrown off by his sudden and fierce resistance.

Don backed away slowly, keeping the knife between him and his attackers. His hand throbbed with pain, but he ignored it, focusing on maintaining his defensive stance. But his back was already against the entrance of the hotel.

His only option now was to win.