Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 557: A Busy Night (Part 9)

Later that night, a warehouse near the downtown edge lit up with movement.

A police cruiser rolled through the open gate, tires crunching over gravel, its lights off. The compound was busy—men in blue overalls moved between stacks of crates, forklifts idling under corrugated shelters.

At a glance, it looked like late-night loading.

A second look ruined that illusion.

Too many hands rested near waistlines. Too many bulges under fabric. Metal flashed where it shouldn’t.

The cruiser drove all the way to the back, slowing near one of the shelters where a small group waited. Most wore the same overalls. One didn’t.

He stood apart, broad arms bare, white tank top stretched over a thick chest. Tattoos wrapped his biceps and crept up his neck. His head was shaved clean, skin catching the floodlights. A cigarette hung from his mouth, ember bright as he inhaled.

The cruiser stopped.

The driver’s door opened and a uniformed officer stepped out—middle-aged, stocky, face set in boredom. His cap sat low. His eyes didn’t linger on anything for long.

None of them knew they were being watched.

Two blocks away, on a rooftop cluttered with vents and old signage, Ash lay prone behind a low concrete lip. She wore full black leather, reinforced at the shoulders and elbows, a bandana mask pulled up over her face. A datapad rested in her left hand, its feed grainy but usable.

Beside her sat a massive bag.

She glanced at the screen, watching the officer greet the men below, but her thoughts drifted.

’Where the hell did he get all this?’

Don’s voice broke in through her earpiece. "They’re about to make the exchange. Are you ready?"

"Yeah..." she said, not convincing even herself.

She reached for the bag and unzipped it. Inside lay a rifle folded in on itself, angles wrong, profile compact in a way that didn’t make sense. She pulled it free with a grunt.

"Okay," she muttered. "Where’s the damned button..."

Her fingers slid along the frame, brushing over seams and recessed panels until—

CLICK~

The rifle came alive.

Sections shifted with a low mechanical hum—the barrel extending forward, internal rails sliding into place. The stock lengthened and locked. A side panel unfolded, revealing a narrow screen that flickered on with a pale glow.

Ash blinked. "Woah. What kinda gun is this?"

"Focus," Don said. "Line up the shot."

"Okay, but like I said, I don’t know how to fucking snipe," she snapped back. "So don’t blame me if I miss."

"It’s assisted," he replied evenly. "Follow the instructions on the screen until it gives the go-ahead."

She glanced at the display.

CALIBRATION REQUIRED.

STABILIZE PLATFORM.

She shifted her elbows, planting them wider. The screen flashed red.

"Shit—okay, okay."

ADJUST BREATHING RATE.

She held her breath too long. The indicator dipped.

"Fuck."

She tried again, shorter this time.

WIND VECTOR INPUT REQUIRED.

Ash squinted at the rooftop edge, guessed, swiped the wrong direction.

ERROR. RECALCULATING.

"Boss, this thing hates me."

"Just keep going."

She corrected the input.

ALIGN SIGHT WITH TARGET MARKER.

She nudged the rifle, overshot, brought it back.

LOCK CONFIRMED.

The display shifted.

READY TO FIRE.

Ash leaned into the scope.

"...Uh," she said. "It’s not even on them. It’s aimed at the warehouse."

"Fire," Don said.

"Are you sure this thing isn’t broken? That’s way off. Even with wind or whatever."

"Fire."

She sighed. "You’re the boss."

’Never thought I’d miss working behind the bar instead.’

She squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Instead, the barrel began to glow from within, a dull light building along its length. The center of the rifle pulsed faintly. Ash jerked her eye away from the scope and looked at the screen.

ENRICHING BULLET.

"...Enriching bullet?" she started. "What the hell does that mean—"

The rifle answered for itself.

Rod-like struts shot downward from the frame—driving straight into the concrete rooftop. They punched through the surface with brutal force, anchoring the weapon in place.

"Oh shit—"

The rifle fired.

The sound wasn’t a crack. It was a violent release—BOOM!~—that split the air. The recoil slammed into Ash’s chest, throwing her backward as the stock struck hard. The rooftop beneath her fractured, spiderweb cracks racing outward from the anchor points.

She hit the ground, breath ripped from her lungs.

"Fuck—" she gasped, clutching her chest.

She barely had time to look up.

The night exploded.

A rising column of fire and light tore through the warehouse below, swallowing steel and concrete in an instant. The blast ballooned upward, a compact mushroom cloud punching into the sky as the structure vanished beneath it.

The shockwave rolled out fast.

Windows shattered blocks away—glass raining down. The rooftop bucked under Ash as the wave hit her, knocking her flat again. Her ears rang hard, sound collapsing into a high, painful whine.

She lay there, stunned, staring at the fire-lit sky as debris fell like burning snow.

Ash stared at the sky, eyes wide, chest still tight from the impact. The mushroom cloud climbed and thinned, fire folding in on itself as darker smoke took over.

Her gaze dropped to the rifle.

The barrel steamed, faint vapor curling upward. Heat rolled off it in visible waves, the rooftop around the anchor points still cracked and warm enough to shimmer.

The side screen flickered.

COOL-DOWN STATE INITIATED.

With a low mechanical whine, the rifle began to retract. The barrel slid back in sections, plating overlapping as it shortened. The stock collapsed inward. The side screen folded flush and went dark. The rods anchoring it to the rooftop withdrew with a grinding CLACK~, tearing free of the concrete and leaving ragged holes behind.

The weapon settled back into its compact, folded form. Almost harmless-looking now. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Ash swallowed.

Don’s voice cut through her earpiece. "Hey. Do you read me?"

"Huh—yeah. Yeah, I read you." Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. She looked between the gun and the smoke-filled sky. "What the hell is that thing?"

No answer.

"Put it in the bag," Don said instead. "Leave it where you picked it up."

"Wait—hey!" she snapped.

The line went dead.

"...Fuck."

She moved fast after that. Scooped the rifle into the bag, zipped it shut with shaking hands, slung it over her shoulder. Before leaving, she looked back one last time at the rising smoke and the glow still staining the clouds.

Then she was gone.

She took the rear stairwell down two flights at a time, boots hammering, lungs burning. The door at the bottom spilled her into a narrow alley washed in shadow.

A black sedan waited at the curb.

She slowed, wary, then approached. The trunk popped open without a sound. She dropped the bag inside and stepped back as it closed on its own.

The engine turned over.

Ash flinched and took another step back as the car pulled away smoothly, taillights vanishing down the street.

She stood there for a second, breathing hard, eyes lifting again toward the smoke now spreading across the night.

"What the hell did I just fire...?" she muttered.Across the city, Don sat at his desk, the room quiet except for the soft hum of electronics.

Winter stood behind him, posture composed, hands folded neatly at her front.

Don removed the earpiece he wore and placed it on the desk. "How’s the syncing process going with the hidden lab?"

"Sixty-three hours remain," Winter replied. "Potentially longer. The facility operates on a legacy system with limited throughput. To maintain synchronization integrity, I am throttling my data ingestion rate."

She tilted her head slightly. "Simultaneously, I am sandboxing all inbound processes and monitoring packet behavior for anomalous entropy patterns, recursive exploits, or unauthorized heuristic mapping of my core architecture."

Don nodded once, understanding nothing.

Gary’s voice came through Don’s phone. "Miss Ashylnn performed quite well in her task. I had doubts she could withstand the residual pressure and heat from firing the Helios Lance."

Don leaned back slightly. I didn’t expect it to fire a whole nuke either, he thought. She must be just as shocked.

"With this," Gary continued, "local authorities will have no choice but to redirect resources toward the so-called BKB alliance. Another coalition member has been struck. Police fatality confirmed. An enriched bullet well spent, sir."

"It’s just to scatter their focus," Don replied. "Spread fear. We’ll wait a few days before hitting another group tied to them."

"Wonderful," Gary said. "Once the streets are sufficiently disordered—"

"Predator moves in," Don finished. "Claims territory. Territory that Don Bright just happens to own a club in."

Gary sounded pleased. "Indeed."

KNOCK~ KNOCK~

Don frowned slightly.

Who would that be at this hour?

A hushed voice slipped through the door. "Hey, Don. Psst. It’s Sylvia. Open up..."

———

A/N: This mini-arc was my excuse to peel back a few more layers of the city’s underbelly without tearing it wide open yet. I did consider going deeper, but that would’ve dragged in plot threads that aren’t ready yet.

Some details are intentionally light. Not because they don’t exist, but because the characters are still doing the heavy lifting this volume. If the dots connected the way they were supposed to, everything should make sense. If not—well—future me will deal with it.

Characters remain the core focus until the end of this volume, and hopefully by then the groundwork is solid enough that the next major plot point doesn’t feel like it came out of nowhere.

As always, thanks for reading. Power stones and golden tickets are appreciated. Gifts are not required—but they are noticed. Cheers.