Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Winter, meanwhile, stayed in the kitchen, tending to the dishes and wiping down counters methodically.

As Ms. Claire picked up her utensils, she cast a glance toward the kitchen, her eyes lingering briefly on Winter's efficient movements. "The android is quite helpful," she remarked lightly, adjusting her fork in her hand. "I might consider getting one when I'm old."

Beside her, Sylvia leaned forward, shaking her head. "You don't need an android, Mom. I'll take care of you."

Ms. Claire's lips curved into a small, amused smile as she began cutting into her food. "I appreciate the sentiment, dear, but you can barely take care of yourself. I'd rather not take my chances."

Sylvia let out an indignant, "Hey!" but quickly broke into laughter, shaking her head. "That isn't true."

Summer, sitting across from Sylvia and next to Amanda, couldn't resist joining in. "It's sort of true, though," she agreed, grinning. "I mean, I've had to help you comb your hair before."

Samantha, who sat directly across from Don, paused mid-chew to glance at Summer, giving her a pointed look. After swallowing, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin and raised an eyebrow. "Well, you aren't any better, young lady. I was doing your laundry until last year."

Summer's cheeks flushed a bright red and she grumbled, "That's not

*completely*

true," though her voice held little conviction. Sylvia burst into louder laughter, glancing at Samantha.

"Is that true, Mrs. Bright?" Sylvia asked, trying to contain her laughter.

Ms. Claire maintained her small, composed smile as she began eating, taking small bites, each movement graceful and poised. Amanda watched Ms. Claire with a look of mild amazement, momentarily forgetting her food.

"I never understood how people can use a fork and knife so beautifully," Amanda thought aloud, sounding genuinely impressed. She then added with a chuckle, "Honestly, I'd probably be using my hands if we didn't have guests."

Samantha turned to her with a slight frown. "Amanda," she said, clearly disapproving.

Amanda just shrugged. "What? Just being honest."

Ms. Claire gave a light chuckle, looking at Amanda with understanding. "Feel free to eat however you like," she said gently. "The only reason I'm so good with a fork and knife is because that's how I was raised."

Amanda grinned. "Don't mind if I do!" With that, she picked up a piece of chicken with her bare hands and took a hearty bite, ignoring Samantha's mortified look.

"Amanda!" Samantha exclaimed, her hand flying to her forehead as Amanda answered with a mouthful of food, her cheeks puffed. "Wvhat?"

Don stifled a chuckle, amused by Amanda's nonchalant attitude, while Ms. Claire's eyes sparkled with a subtle amusement as well.

The easy, playful energy set the tone for the rest of the dinner, with everyone relaxed and smiling. Conversations flowed naturally, from lighthearted banter to inside jokes, though Samantha occasionally intercepted Amanda before she could veer into anything too crude.

As the laughter subsided and the plates began to clear, Sylvia and Summer were the first to excuse themselves, mentioning a project they were working on in Summer's room.

With cheerful goodbyes, they headed back upstairs, leaving the adults to continue their conversation.

Once the girls were gone, the topic gradually shifted to wine. Ms. Claire and Samantha soon found themselves in a deep discussion, exchanging opinions on various brands, vineyards, and pairings.

Samantha's eyes lit up with recognition as Ms. Claire mentioned a particular brand. "I actually have a bottle of that one," she said, smiling. "We should open it and share a glass while you wait for Sylvia to finish up."

Ms. Claire smiled a the offer and nodded before turning to Don and Amanda. "Would either of you like to join us?"

Don shook his head with a small smile. "I've got something I need to take care of," he said, offering Samantha a reassuring nod. He knew this would give her a good opportunity to bond with Ms. Claire.

Amanda also declined, waving her hand. "I'll just be watching some wrestling on TV, wine makes my tummy hurt" she said, already looking forward to it.

With everyone's plans set, Don excused himself, heading upstairs to his room and closed the door behind him.

'This could be good for her,'

he thought.

They didn't seem all that compatible on the surface, but he had noticed they shared a few interests—enough to at least get a friendship started.

———

Deep in the shadowed woods north of the city, near the looming mountain ranges, a man's desperate cries echoed through the air.

"No! No! Please! Someone help me!" His voice, choked with terror, rang out desperately.

From the sky, slender rays of moonlight filtered down through the dense foliage, creating faint patches of light on the forest floor, casting shadows that swayed with the breeze.

The man's body was dragged through the underbrush, his leg clamped in an unbreakable hold.

Each brutal pull sent a jolt of pain through him, his head jolting back as he scrabbled with both hands, trying to slow his captor's relentless pace.

He clawed desperately at the ground, his fingers digging into the hard earth, nails scraping until

**snap**

—one of them broke off, leaving a raw, stinging wound.

He bit down to suppress a scream, but a strangled whimper escaped as he continued to struggle, his nails shredded and his hands now bloodied.

His face skidded over stones, scraping his cheek and jaw, the harsh earth tearing at his skin with each brutal pull forward. He twisted, thrashing, his vision blurring as he struggled to catch a glimpse of whatever monster held him captive.

But each time he tried to turn, he was wrenched harder, slamming into stones and jagged roots.

His mouth soon filled with dirt, and as he coughed, a thick branch thrust sharply into his nose, wedging painfully and causing him to scream again, his cries growing weaker with each painful jerk.

Blood ran down his face, mixing with the dirt and sweat, stinging his eyes.

Then, in one swift motion, he was yanked off the ground and tossed into the air.

He felt weightless for a moment, as if time had slowed, before crashing down hard on his back.

**Thud!**

His body hit the earth, his ribs jolting with a deep, agonizing pain that forced a groan from his lips. "Argh…" he whimpered, shifting, too sore to find a comfortable position.

He squinted, lifting his head to scan his surroundings. The moon's full light fell across a small clearing, illuminating a roughly oval patch where no trees obscured the sky.

For the first time, he could see a bit more clearly, though the dark seemed to linger at the edge of his vision, heavy and almost foreboding.

As he tried to get his bearings, the sound of heavy footsteps reached him, coming from the darkness just beyond the clearing's edge.

He struggled to speak, his mouth dry. "Who's there?!" He tried to move, but his body didn't comply, his muscles seizing from fear and pain.

Then, he heard a voice, smooth and unsettling. "Oh, what a lively catch you are."

Panic surged through him as he whipped his head around, his eyes darting in every direction. "Who said that?!" he asked, his voice cracking with desperation.

From the shadows stepped a woman, her silhouette sharp against the dim light as she crossed into the clearing.

Sister Rose. Her naked body moved gracefully toward the man, while twisting, slithering vines followed her across the ground like snakes.

She stopped a few feet from him, her head tilting with on her face as she watched his horrified expression. Despite her stopping, the vines continued their slow crawl toward the man.

"You can call me Sister Rose, officer," she said, her voice low and carrying a strange amusement. "Now, let's you and I have a chat, shall we?"

Terror flooded his face as he scrambled backward, pushing against the ground with weak, trembling hands. "No! No!" he screamed.

"Stay back!" "Noooo!"