Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Don's screen flickered, the mugshots fading away and being replaced by a set of new images.

The first showed Sister Rose, posed in front of the modest church with her usual cold expression. She wore traditional nun's clothing, her hands clasped delicately in front of her. Beside her were other churchgoers, smiling warmly at the camera.

The next image was a huge contrast—charred remains, barely identifiable as human, scattered across a scorched floor. Blackened walls framed the grisly scene, the destruction evident even in the low-resolution photo.

The third image was even more unsettling. It showed the church's back room and the jagged, gaping hole at the center, where Donald had fallen in previously. Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off the area, and investigators could be seen in the background, their protective suits gleaming under harsh lights.

Don's expression remained unreadable, though his eyes lingered on the image of Sister Rose for a moment longer than the others. Something about her made his skin crawl.

'Who is she really?' he wondered, his fingers tapping idly on the table.

Gary tapped his foot twice against the metallic floor, the subtle **click-click** resonating in the room. His chair slid back smoothly, allowing him to stand with effortless grace. In the same motion, he began walking toward Don, his posture as poised as ever.

"I chose to classify this as urgent," Gary began, his tone calm yet deliberate, "because I had to exhaust many of my contacts to compile some semblance of information on the matter."

As he moved, Gary waved a hand across the table's surface. Additional screens appeared, each displaying fragments of data and images that trailed after him, shifting seamlessly as he walked.

They formed a cluster of visual information surrounding Gary until he finally stopped beside Don's seat, clasping his hands neatly behind his back.

He continued, his voice the same tone. "Even the term 'unidentified entities' is primarily a designation used by Internet conspiracy theorists. Yet, in this case, they've managed to provide some of the better information available."

Don's gaze followed the screens, his eyes taking in the images. Each one depicted a different scene—sites of unexplained incidents, charred ruins, strange symbols carved into stone, and faintly distorted photographs of people and places.

Thin blue lines linked the main screens to smaller ones, creating a network of connections that felt as complicated as it was unsettling.

The global hologram in the center of the table rotated, its surface now marked with flickering red dots scattered across the map. Each dot corresponded to a screen, tying the mysterious cases together in an ominous pattern.

Gary gestured subtly toward the displays. "There have been numerous incidents similar to what you encountered, sir. It's difficult to gather solid information because, from what I've uncovered, the U.P. government is deeply interested in this. In fact, you could say they're heavily invested in ensuring these cases receive as little public attention as possible."

Don leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the table's edge. He nodded, his expression neutral despite the thoughts churning in his head. "I did think it was strange. There's been nothing about it on the major stations, but I assumed it was just because of the many other things happening in the city"

He frowned faintly, his mind circling back to Sister Rose and the eerie unease she radiated. While he knew she was unique, it hadn't occurred to him that her situation might demand government interference.

Gary gave a faint smile, as if sensing Don's thoughts. "It's easy to overlook for those not directly involved. But some of the families who had relatives in that church have… left the town. It was done so cleanly that I couldn't find a single paper trail or any record of their movements. It had to be the government's doing."

Don's eyes narrowed slightly as Gary's words sank in.

"Of course," Gary added, his tone even but edged with caution, "this is speculation. Still, I would advise you to keep a close eye on anyone new who approaches you or your family—especially your friend Donald."

Don's brow lifted slightly at the mention of Donald.

Gary continued, "The only reason you haven't been approached yet, I suspect, is because you didn't pursue the matter like the families who tried to raise awareness. Not to mention, you're far too well-known at the moment to simply… vanish."

Gary's calm delivery understated the troubling nature of his words. Don sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "First it's the crazy nun, now we have to worry about the government?"

Gary suppressed a chuckle, his smile faint but unmistakable. "The young madam thought the exact same thing. Don't worry—she's already been working on a plan for some days now. I can only imagine it will be perfect now that she's truly back."

Don's gaze flicked toward Gary at that. "Elle's already been looking into this?"

Gary met Don's gaze with confidence. "But of course, sir. Even though m'lady was more… reserved due to her split, it didn't change her natural instincts. She would almost certainly want to uncover whomever—or whatever—might try to harm you."

Don sat back in his chair, his expression unreadable. The idea that Elle had been working behind the scenes for his sake left him oddly touched. For a moment, he simply sat there, absorbing the weight of Gary's words.

Before Don could respond, Gary cleared his throat lightly, his expression shifting slightly. "For this particular situation, sir, in light of the attention it might draw, I would suggest focusing on continuing to build your reputation as Don Bright. Making strong connections—or at least leaving lasting impressions—with key figures in the city could prove invaluable."

Don's fingers tapped the table softly, his gaze flicking to Gary. Internally, he acknowledged the sound reasoning. Still, he remained cautious. Navigating elite circles meant facing a minefield of mind games, political maneuvering, and social traps.

He nodded after a brief pause. "I won't have time to get to know people the natural way, so I'll need your help—whether I have someone in mind, or you do. Makes things easier and avoids any surprises."

Gary's lips curved into a faint, approving smile. "Naturally, sir." He inclined his head slightly before adding, "To close, I do have someone in mind who would be an excellent focus for such efforts."

Don raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest showing. "Oh?"

Gary gestured lightly, and one of the holographic screens shifted, displaying the image of a man with aristocratic features. His perfectly styled silver hair was instantly recognizable, and his confident, almost regal smile seemed effortlessly poised.

"Charles Monclaire IV," Gary announced. "Better known as Silverwing."