Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 490: A Messy Visit (Part 10)

The rumble hit hard—deep, heavy, and close enough to make the air vibrate.

BOOOMM~

The lower levels of the mansion shook, the sound rolling through the reinforced concrete like distant thunder trapped underground.

Metal beams groaned; loose wiring rattled overhead. A few sparks spat from a broken conduit somewhere deeper in the dark.

No debris fell—but the sound of something giving way echoed faintly in the distance. A cable snapped with a loud twang~ that carried through the silence before fading again.

Then stillness.

For a moment, no one moved.

Kasanda steadied himself against the wall, one hand instinctively reaching for Abraham as the last tremor faded.

His breathing slowed, controlled. The small beam from the phone in his hand flickered across ahead, barely cutting through the black.

The light revealed almost nothing—just cold walls, faint mist, and the machinery. But the air told him plenty.

It smelled wrong.

Not just the burnt metal and dust from above. There was blood here. Fresh, heavy, not from the man groaning behind them. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Kasanda’s jaw tensed.

Behind him, Han was crouched low beside the injured guard. The man was pale, sweat soaking through his uniform as he clutched at what was left of his leg.

Han worked with what little they had—a torn strip of fabric wound tight above the wound, another around the lower thigh, tying off the blood flow with a short metal rod from the guard’s belt.

The guard bit down on his sleeve, teeth grinding as Han pulled the knot. "Ghh—ahh, fuck!"

"Keep pressure on it," Han muttered, his tone clipped, eyes darting between the wound and the dark ahead.

The explosion above had shaken the entire sublevel, making the lights flicker for half a second before dying again. The only source of illumination came from Kasanda’s phone.

Or what had been his phone.

Another tremor followed—a smaller aftershock this time—and Kasanda instinctively turned, throwing his arm out to steady Abraham. The movement was fast, but his grip firm. It kept Abraham upright... at the cost of balance.

The phone slipped from his hand.

It hit the floor with a clack~, spinning once before coming to rest a few meters ahead, its flashlight still on. The beam angled forward, painting a pale cone of light across the floor.

Kasanda cursed under his breath. He took a step forward, reaching for it—then stopped when Abraham suddenly went still beside him.

The older man’s breathing hitched. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, fixed on the floor ahead where the light had landed.

Kasanda followed his gaze.

The beam illuminated the concrete... then something darker.

Blood. A wide smear of it.

It glistened faintly under the light, thick and recent, trailing off toward the deeper dark like something had been dragged.

Han froze mid-motion, still crouched by the wounded guard. "What the hell is that?" he asked, voice low.

No one answered.

Abraham’s eyes stayed fixed forward. He swallowed, his face tight, pale. "Look..." he whispered, pointing.

Kasanda bent slightly, letting his eyes adjust. The beam of the fallen phone shifted again as the vibration from above faded completely.

And there it was.

A body.

Half slumped against the far wall, one arm bent the wrong way, head tilted back at an unnatural angle.

The face—what was left of it—was barely recognizable. The skin had the dull, waxy sheen of blood gone half-dry. The torso had been opened in places where something heavy or fast had torn through it.

Kasanda’s expression didn’t change, but his throat tightened. His hearing stretched outward, searching for any movement beyond the body.

Nothing.

Just the distant hum of the dead power grid and the faint, steady drip of blood hitting concrete.

Han rose slowly, his shadow stretching across the wall. He and Kasanda exchanged a single glance—no words, but the meaning was clear.

Something was down with them.

"Stay behind me," Kasanda muttered.

He stepped ahead, slow, measured, boots making soft clicks against scattered grit. The light from the phone pulsed faintly, its battery dying, each flicker dimming the world a little more. He crouched, fingers reaching for it—

Crunch~

The sound was sudden, loud.

The phone shattered beneath something unseen. A smear of black crushed it flat, then withdrew so fast it left only fragments and a fading spark.

Kasanda jerked back hard, boots skidding as he pulled Abraham with him. His arm shot up in front of the man, body coiled tight.

"What the hell—" his voice dropped, breath shallow. His eyes darted over the walls. Only shadow met him, thick and unmoving.

He kept one hand on Abraham’s shoulder, the other hovering near his weapon. "Hey, Han," he called over, voice low but steady. "You stay here and keep the boss safe. There’s something in here. I need to check it out..."

Han looked down toward the injured guard he’d been patching and then back to Kasanda. "Okay sure, just be care—"

Both their heads turned at once.

A sound slid through the dark. Low. Wet. Not quite a hiss—more like breath caught in a throat that wasn’t human.

Then Abraham yelped. "Ahh—!"

His weight vanished from Kasanda’s grasp. A blur swept low—shffft~—and Abraham was gone, dragged backward into the tunnel. His shoes scraped furrows into the concrete, then nothing. Just the sound of him screaming, fading fast into the black.

Kasanda’s stomach dropped. "Boss!" He reached forward, but the dark ate his reach.

Behind him, another scream tore out—this one higher, rawer.

He spun back to see the injured man thrashing, half-lifted off the floor. A tendril—long, black, the texture wrong, had wrapped around his torso. Han had a grip on the man’s arm, straining against the pull, muscles standing out across his forearms.

"Hold still!" Han shouted, bracing a boot against the floor. He swung his free hand down, slamming his knife into the tendril. The blade cut deep—shhk~—but met no blood, no real resistance. The thing split for a second, then fused again around the steel, tightening.

Han grunted, jerking backward. Another tendril whipped out of the dark, coiling around his leg, dragging him forward a step.

Kasanda’s breath came fast now. His eyes darted between Han’s struggle and the direction Abraham had vanished. He clenched his jaw. Han could handle himself. Abraham couldn’t.

He took one step toward the deeper dark—

Two wet coils snapped around his legs.

"What—!"

The pull came from both sides at once. He hit the floor hard—thud~—air punching out of him. The tendrils yanked, dragging his legs in opposite directions. He dug his fingers into the rough concrete, nails scraping as he tried to anchor himself.

Across the room, Han roared, his voice strangled. Another tendril had wrapped around his free arm, twisting it back as one dragged his leg the other way.

"Han!"

No answer—just the sound of grunting, boots scraping, metal clattering.

Abraham screamed again, deeper in the dark.

It cut through everything.

Kasanda’s body surged with adrenaline. He growled, muscles swelling against the pull, veins pushing against his skin. The tendrils strained—crkk~—and then seemingly... snapped loose.

He staggered to his feet, barely steady, and sprinted forward.

"Hang on, boss!"

The troom stretched ahead, pitch black except for the faint red blink from dying wiring above. The smell of blood grew thicker. His breath rasped in his ears.

Then he saw it.

Two points of light.

Not reflections. Eyes.

Cold and glowing, set in a face that wasn’t there—suspended in the void.

Kasanda’s stride faltered. He froze mid-step, heart hammering.

’What the hell is that?’

It didn’t move. Just watched him.

He swallowed hard, forcing air through his teeth. "Whatever you are... you picked the wrong night."

He lunged forward with a snarl, arm swinging. His strike hit nothing. Passed clean through. The air rippled, and the glowing eyes blinked once, slow.

Kasanda turned, swung again—same result. Empty air.

His breathing went uneven. Sweat rolled down his temple. He didn’t try a third time.

The moment he stopped, Predator countered.

The shadows around Kasanda thickened—alive.

Tendrils shot from the walls, sharper now, the ends forming edges like blades. One pierced through his thigh—thnk~—another through the opposite calf. He cried out, dropping to one knee as his hands flew down on instinct.

A third tendril punched through his palm. The force pinned his hand to the floor with a wet crunch.

"Arghhhhhh~" Kasanda roared in pain, eyes flashing wild. He yanked, tore skin, freed himself just enough to stagger upright—only for a blunt mass to slam into his ribs. The impact threw him sideways into the wall.

He coughed blood, spat, turned back toward those eyes.

Predator didn’t move.

The shadows did.

They came at him in waves—some shaped like fists, others like the curve of hammers. They struck in rhythm—thud~ thnk~ crack~—each blow heavier than the last. Kasanda blocked one, dodged another, then caught one square across the jaw. The hit sent him reeling.

"Ugh—damn you—"

He tried to rise again, but another tendril lashed his back, slamming him flat.

Behind him, flesh tore—rrrppp~—and Han screamed.

The sound drove through him worse than any hit.

Kasanda forced his body up once more, muscles screaming, blood pooling around his knees. He didn’t stop fighting, even when the next blow dropped him again.

Predator stepped closer at last, the faint glow of his eyes the only thing left moving in the dark.