Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Chapter 697: Shadows of Sponsorship & Endorsement (Part 1)

The laptop screen flickered once, then settled into a clear connection.An older woman appeared, seated behind a heavy oak desk in what looked like a refined office.

Tall windows behind her framed a misty mountain range under steady rain, the droplets tracing slow paths down the glass.

Don studied the backdrop for a moment, curiosity stirring. The elegance of the space rivaled Miss Claire's own, perhaps even surpassed it in quiet authority.

Miss Claire inclined her head slightly toward the screen. "Good evening, Madam Raven."

The woman's posture remained impeccable, her silver hair drawn back in a severe yet graceful style.

She offered a simple nod, her voice carrying the tone of old and unhurried command. "Ah, Claire, it is a pleasure to see you once more. The hour finds you well, I trust?"

Her gaze shifted then, stern and appraising, settling on Don. "And this must be the candidate you recommended to us. I confess, I was most surprised when your endorsement arrived—particularly for one so young."

Miss Claire's tone stayed even. "I trust his ability."

"I see." Madam Raven turned her full attention to Don, her expression revealing nothing. "We may dispense with further pleasantries, Mr. Bright. You may address me as Madam Raven. I speak for l'Ordre de Valois, and Miss Claire has seen fit to endorse you as one of our Élite Récupérateurs."

She paused, letting the title settle. Her fingers rested lightly on the desk's edge as she continued.

"Our order concerns itself with the location, recovery, and safeguarding of unique, valuable, lost, or stolen items and artifacts of significance. We are not the sole group engaged in such pursuits, yet we number among the foremost."

Miss Claire interjected smoothly, her posture relaxed yet attentive as she leaned slightly toward the screen. "You will operate anonymously. The diplomatic entanglements are theirs to manage as connections ensure it. Your focus remains the work itself."

Madam Raven gave a small, approving tilt of her head. "Precisely. Your primary concerns will be rival organizations, independent collectors, or ambitious individuals who may seek the same prizes. Survival, as ever, rests upon your own shoulders, as do your choice of personal arms and methods. We shall provide transport, safe houses, operating funds, and extraction as required."

She lifted one hand in a gesture, as though outlining terms carved in unseen stone. "Any additional items of value recovered during an operation shall belong to you, provided they fall outside the specific parameters of the commission. This forms the first mark of our contract: clarity in purpose. The second mark is discretion—yours in execution, ours in protection. The third is mutual benefit, wherein success elevates both parties without entanglement. The fourth, and final, is flexibility within bounds; interpretation remains the domain of results, not excuses."

She regarded him steadily. "Do you accept these conditions?"

Don felt the pace pressing forward, the weight of unseen stakes settling across his shoulders. Yet hesitation served little here. He met her gaze. "Yes."

"Very well." Madam Raven indicated the laptop interface. "Sign with your biometrics. Miss Claire shall follow as witness and endorser."

Don placed his finger on the indicated scanner point. A soft chime sounded. Miss Claire did the same moments later.

"Congratulations, Mr. Bright," Madam Raven said, the words carrying no excess warmth. "You will receive your details through Miss Claire until your capabilities are firmly established. Good night to you both. *Que la fortune vous accompagne et vous garde.*"

The feed cut abruptly. The screen went dark.

Miss Claire turned from the laptop, her eyes meeting Don's.

He held the look, questions crowding his thoughts—about the order, the risks, the artifacts.

Before he could voice any, she spoke. "I think some mild celebrations are in order. Care to join me for a drink by the fireplace? You did mention nothing pressing tomorrow."

He considered pressing for more about the organization, but the offer felt like an opening of another kind.

At the very least, he doubted she would steer him into something beyond his handling. "Sure."

They moved across the study. Don settled into one of four comfortable chairs arranged in a gentle semi-circle near the fireplace, the leather cool beneath him.

Miss Claire excused herself briefly and returned with a fine bottle of wine, its label understated yet clearly expensive. She poured a glass for each, then took the seat beside him.

A click of the remote brought the fireplace to life with a soft **~WHOOSH~** of flames catching, warm light spreading across the room.

Hidden speakers activated, filling the space with a gentle violin melody that wove through the air like distant memory.

They sat in shared quiet, sipping the wine as the music played on. The fire crackled softly, casting shifting shadows across polished wood and leather.

After some time, Miss Claire spoke. "I know you must have a great many questions. Feel free to ask whatever you wish."

Don glanced at her, the wine glass resting lightly in his hand. Information about the order would be useful.

Yet another thought rose. He paused, then asked, "Does endorsing me put you at any risk?"

Miss Claire's hand paused midway to her lips, the glass hovering.

Surprise flickered across her features before she lowered the glass and turned toward him fully. She had not expected that question.

After the brief moment passed, she answered in her usual composed manner. "My reputation, perhaps. But I stand to gain far more if you prove yourself capable. As do you."

A faint smile touched her lips. "I thought you would be more curious about your own potential gains rather than my well-being."

Don returned the smile. "Truthfully… so did I."

She stared at him then, deeply, the firelight reflecting in her eyes. After a second, her tone lightened with a raised brow and playful edge. "Care for me now, do you?"

Don replied with mock offense, his voice light. "Oh, you don't care for me?"

Miss Claire's smile widened. She turned away, taking a slow sip and swirling the wine in her glass before murmuring, "I suppose I do." She took another sip, the violin melody continuing its soft path through the room.

———

The following days passed in a quiet rhythm that felt almost foreign after the chaos of recent weeks.

Don threw himself into training each morning, the gym equipment groaning under the weight of his sets while his mind turned over the implications of the late-night meeting with Madam Raven.

Afternoons belonged to the family—shared meals where Samantha fussed over portions, Summer chattered about her latest robotics tweaks, and Amanda offered dry commentary that drew reluctant laughs.

Evenings brought lighter moments, conversations that skirted heavier topics, they reminded him why he fought to keep this fragile normalcy intact.

'Simple days like these... they don't last,' he thought, wiping sweat from his brow after one such session. Yet he savored them while they did.

It was on one of those evenings, as he climbed the stairs toward his room with muscles pleasantly fatigued, that Miss Claire appeared at the landing.

She moved with her usual graceful motions, the soft lighting catching the lines of her attire. "Don. Meet me in my study at midnight. There is something we must discuss."

He paused on the step, meeting her eyes. "I'll be there."