Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Chapter 696: Same City, Different Structure (Part 10)

Don didn't answer immediately. Miss Claire's question lingered in the quiet cabin, her gaze steady on him as the Rolls Royce moved along the road.He considered it for a moment, then trusted his first instinct. "Well, if I had to say, it would be no. You are not a bad person. Yes, you focus on yourself and your own benefits, but to be honest, I think we as a species at an innate level focus on our own survival. The only difference now is we do it on a modern stage."

He left it there, hoping it would suffice. For a moment it did.

Miss Claire leaned slightly toward him, her gaze lingering on his face. "Is that so?"

She pulled back after a second and settled into her seat again, eyes turning toward the road ahead.

Don kept his own gaze forward as he navigated out of a marked construction zone and onto the smoother stretch of highway.

A short silence passed before Miss Claire spoke once more, still looking ahead. "Do you think we may make a stop by that restaurant we went to, close to the pier overlooking the ocean?"

Don took a moment to recall the place, the memory surfacing clearly enough. He switched lanes smoothly. "Sure. No problem."

Miss Claire said nothing more.

---

Several minutes later, they arrived at the familiar restaurant.

They were seated at the balcony arrangement overlooking the sea.

Unlike their previous visit, when a modest number of diners had occupied the space, this time the entire venue stood empty.

Whether people remained too consumed by the crisis or the usual crowd had simply not survived, neither of them brought it up. It felt too heavy for the moment.

Instead, they ate the meal they had ordered as the setting sun cast a dim orange glow across the water and their table.

Their meal proceeded in relative silence. Neither sparked conversation. There were moments when Don felt the urge to say something, yet he always chose to remain quiet, remembering how much Miss Claire seemed to appreciate these stretches of shared stillness.

Quite frankly, he often felt like a spectator in her presence, though he did not mind it. Sometimes it felt like the quiet served reasons beyond the original quest. The food was excellent, the view serene, and the occasion carried on without excitement or negatives.

As they wrapped up, Miss Claire wiped the corners of her mouth neatly with a napkin and looked his way. "Before we leave, do you care to join me for a stroll down the beach?"

Don did not answer monotonously. He had learned that Miss Claire caught tone very carefully, and any hint of disinterest would likely stick with her. "Honestly, I could use it after the long day I've had."

Miss Claire raised an entertained brow. "Yes, I had the pleasure of seeing you on the news this afternoon. Mr. Xiao seemed quite pleased as well."

Don replied without revealing details about the project with Charles. "I'm sure he's happy that his students are contributing to his positive image."

Miss Claire gave a small nod. "That I'm sure he is."

After that, she looked at him with the now-familiar phrasing. "Shall we?"

Don accepted with equal familiarity. "Yes. Let's."

---

A quarter of an hour later, Don and Miss Claire walked the path along the beach.

Their feet were bare, both carrying their shoes in hand as they moved side by side at a relaxed pace near the water's edge.

The cool, salty waves washed gently over their ankles with each step, the flowing water leaving faint trails of foam before retreating.

Miss Claire's footsteps remained graceful, though a subtle sway in her hips extended slightly beyond simple elegance.

Don's gaze shifted toward it more than once. His own pace stayed controlled and unhurried, the result of constant training that had made efficient movement nearly automatic.

It felt comfortable, a rare state of ease after the tension of the past week.

They approached a demarcated section of the beach where a small beach bar and lounge area sat empty. Miss Claire turned lightly. "I think we can head back now."

Don replied simply, "Yes, the walk was nice." He kept his words straightforward, avoiding exaggeration.

Some moments did not need escalation. This felt like one of them. Miss Claire did not press further, instead adding, "Are you still interested in contract work? That is, one that pertains to your superhuman abilities."

Don answered instinctively. "Yes, I am."

Miss Claire studied his expression for a moment, her gaze careful. If it weren't for his unfazed trait, it might have made him uneasy, but he held steady.

A second later she replied, "I see. In that case I may have a potential program of sorts you may be interested in, though as your lawyer I wouldn't recommend it."

Don kept his tone even. "I would need to know the conditions, but yes, overall I am still interested."

Miss Claire nodded once. "I thought as much." She turned and began walking back the way they had come, hands clasped behind her back. Don fell into step beside her. "If you are able, do you think you and I could meet at one in the morning?"

The request caught him slightly off guard—the late hour and the soft tone in which she asked.

Still, he answered naturally. "I should be up. I have a few things I'll be doing then, and since tomorrow I get to rest, it will be fine."

Miss Claire accepted the answer. "Right then. We shall continue this conversation then."

---

From there, they returned to the car and eventually back to the estate.

Once night had settled, a little past ten PM, Don lay in the comfort of his bed, the balcony doors open so moonlight spilled across the room and washed over him.

He held his phone to his ear on a conference call. "So is everyone okay with us carrying it out this way in two weeks' time?"

Elle's voice came through clearly. "As long as you're fine with it… I believe it can work."

Gary followed. "Yes, so long as none of the variables we've overlooked change, it should relatively work in our favor minus a few potential negatives."

Don replied, "I can live with them."

Gary said, "Then there is nothing more to discuss."

Don sat up briefly. He had wanted to ask about the additional matter Gary had mentioned earlier, but with Elle on the line he chose to trust his gut and let it wait. "Then I'll speak to you both later. I should get some rest."

A light shuffling sounded from Elle's side. "Okay Don… see you later."

Gary added more formally, "Good night, sir."

The line cut. Don sighed, placed the phone on the dresser, and lay back down, closing his eyes. Sleep claimed him quickly.

---

Time slipped by until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

His eyes snapped open. Winter stood beside the bed, arm extended, expression blank. The moment his eyes opened she spoke. "It is thirty minutes past midnight."

Don groaned but sat up. He had asked her earlier to wake him thirty minutes before one. He did not want to come across as unreliable to Miss Claire.

He used the time to wash his face and change into pajama pants with a long-sleeve shirt. Better to avoid giving the wrong impression if anyone happened to be around.

Two minutes past one in the morning, a knock sounded on his door.

Don opened it himself. Miss Claire stood outside, wearing a full robe with a thin pair of reading glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. Her hair hung loose, cascading down her shoulders and back. "I hope I didn't wake you."

Don shook his head. "Not at all."

She paused, scanning his features briefly, but made no comment. She turned and started walking down the corridor. "I see. Then please follow me to my private study."

Don followed. They walked to the other side of the floor, where Miss Claire's study occupied an entire wing.

The opposite half held his bedroom and her master bedroom.

He had never been inside before. As they reached the doors, a scan washed over Miss Claire.

She then spoke a code into a wall-mounted device—French, from the sound of it. Hidden mechanisms whirred softly.

The exterior looked like fine wood, but the security was clearly far more advanced. Don stepped inside without remark.

The study felt like a blend of library and private sanctuary, incredibly cozy yet luxurious in a refined Renaissance style.

Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes and carefully organized documents.

Warm, dim lighting from antique lamps cast a gentle glow across rich wood paneling and plush seating areas.

A large desk sat at the far end with an equally imposing chair behind it.

At its center rested a single laptop, a elegant quill pen positioned neatly in one corner. Opposite the desk were two comfortable seats. Everything was impeccably kept, lived-in yet surreal in its order.

Miss Claire pulled out one of the chairs for him. "Feel free to have a seat."

Don did so. She reached for the laptop, opened it, and entered several security passes. No audible clicks or chimes—completely silent.

Don glanced at the reflection in her glasses, but they showed nothing. She had gone to considerable lengths to protect whatever this was.

After a moment she centered the laptop between them. The screen remained black briefly, then lines of code appeared as an encrypted video chat connection initialized.

Don waited, attention fixed on Miss Claire and the secure link she was establishing.