Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Chapter 694: Same City, Different Structure (Part 8)

The process wasn't all that smooth as some delays came from some of the surveys Charles insisted on conducting personally—short conversations with recipients that stretched each stop longer than necessary.Charles did not enjoy being in the thick of it. He had confided to Don earlier, voice low while Ash was occupied elsewhere, that he did not fully trust Mr. Xiao to share the complete survey data.

He suspected the chairman would keep the most promising names for himself. As a result, Charles tried to linger near anyone who seemed even mildly interesting, listening in and asking his own careful questions.

It worked for a time, but they still had a schedule to keep, and the visible frustration built in his posture with each forced departure.

Don understood it. The capable individuals were rarely the ones left out on the streets for long.

Many had connections, family, or enough resourcefulness to find shelter elsewhere. Others had simply left the city or leaned on distant relatives until they could rebuild.

Eventually the convoy reached a residential block known mostly for housing migrants.

Even before the outbreak, this area had carried a reputation for violence—not solely because some newcomers brought trouble with them, though a few did, but largely because the city had never cared enough to invest properly.

The houses and apartment buildings showed their age in cracked walls, sagging roofs, and streets littered with debris that cleanup crews had yet to reach.

Facilities were sparse and poorly maintained, and the general atmosphere spoke of people who had arrived with dreams of making it big in the United Provinces, either for themselves or through superhuman children who might one day shine.

The trucks rolled in with a police escort rather than soldiers, as the latter had little interest in Mr. Xiao and Charles's charity efforts.

Charles took up a microphone with his good hand and began addressing the gathering crowd, his voice carrying clearly across the block as he explained the purpose of the visit and invited people forward for care packages.

For the first twenty minutes everything moved smoothly. Mothers with tired eyes, elderly residents moving slowly, and single men bearing visible injuries or exhaustion came forward.

Don, not particularly inclined toward public interaction, focused on the physical work. He unloaded crates from the truck bed, his telekinesis and strength making light work of the heavier loads while passing them to others closer to the distribution line.

Charles handled the public side, injured arm or not. Ash worked among the distributors alongside two other SHU students.

She moved with surprising patience, handing out packages with a faint smile that seemed almost genuine.

The children especially seemed drawn to her, lingering near her station. Don suspected it came from her own background—someone who had grown up with less—but he did not comment.

She remained sharp with anyone who grew rude or demanding, her expression hardening in ways that suggested she was one wrong word away from burning or punching someone.

Then the mood shifted.

A group of angry-looking men, with a few women mixed in, approached from an opposing street.

They carried signs, clearly having come from the protests near City Hall. The police noticed them first and stepped forward, one officer raising a hand. "Hey! You can't approach the trucks."

The man at the front of the group, tall and broad-shouldered with the build of someone who had spent years in physical labor or perhaps superhuman, shouted back.

His face carried deep lines of exhaustion mixed with simmering rage, clothes rumpled from a long day of marching. "Get the fuck out of here! We don't want you here! We don't want your fake pity!"

The police reacted quickly, trying to push them back. One officer nearly raised his weapon, but Charles lifted his good hand quickly. "Don't." The officer lowered it at once. Few would risk defying a Monclaire.

The group only grew more agitated. The leading man continued yelling, his voice raw.

Among the fearful residents who had been receiving aid stood a woman and her young daughter.

The girl, no older than five or six, clutched her mother's leg tightly, her small frame trembling as she hid behind the woman's skirt.

The mother had been smiling softly moments earlier while accepting a package from Ash, but now her face had fallen into clear worry.

Ash had been handing them supplies with unusual gentleness. She leaned down slightly toward the child, voice steady. "Don't listen to those guys. Take these things and help your family."

The woman's voice came out shaky. "That man… is my husband. I have to—"

A stockier man from the group, shorter but thick with muscle and a gut that spoke of hard living, yelled directly at her. "Angelina! What the hell do you think you're doing!? Get away from that fucking truck!"

The husband stepped up beside the leader. "Don't make me come over there."

Angelina tried to respond, voice small. "Some people aren't well… We need the medicine and the—"

The leader cut her off. "Listen to your fucking husband, Angelina!"

The husband advanced another step. "Do you hear me, you fucking bitch? I'm talking to you! These fuckers are gonna be gone in a little bit. They don't fucking care about you! About any of us! So give them back their shit and go back to doing what I told you to do!"

A police officer moved in, warning the husband with a firm gesture. "Watch it, buddy. Just 'cause the city is a mess doesn't mean we don't have room for you down at the station."

The leader sneered. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," the officer replied, closing the distance.

Without warning, the leader grabbed the officer by the collar, yanked him close, and flung him high into the air.

The officer's body sailed upward with terrifying force, a scream tearing from his throat before he began to descend.

Another officer drew his gun almost instantly, aiming at the group. "He's got a gun!" someone in the crowd yelled.

The leader then rushed the nearest police vehicle, grabbed it by the undercarriage, and flipped it toward the armed officer—and directly at the truck.

The tossed officer crashed to the ground with a sickening crack in that moment .

But all focus was on the vehicle as many expected it to slam into the distribution truck.

Instead, it froze mid-air, surrounded by a faint blue glow. Ash had reacted instinctively, shielding the mother and child behind her. The little girl huddled closer, face buried against Ash's side.

The car hovered for a tense moment, then dropped with a heavy **THUD~** onto the road.

The leader's face twisted with fresh anger. The officer with the gun kept it raised, voice shaky. "Hands up! Hands up right now!"

Don stepped out from the back of the truck where he had been unloading packages. He still wore the sharp suit, looking distinctly out of place amid the crates and supplies.

At first, some in the group did not recognize him. The leader certainly didn't.

"You wanna fucking go!? I'm not fucking scared of you! So you got mind powers or magic or whatever—well let me tell you, I used to be in the fucking army. I've seen shit, I've faced things a spoonfed prick like you can only imagine. So before I get even more angry… get the fuck out of here."

The man spoke boldly, but his stance showed hesitation. Don's frame, even in formal attire, carried an imposing weight.

Don took a slow step forward, hands slipping into his pockets. "You know, despite everything that's happened to the city, the rules still stand. In the presence of any superhuman threat that endangers innocent civilian life, any licensed personnel may intervene as they see fit."

His voice remained calm, almost conversational. The blue glow appeared at the edges of his eyes. "Guess what I am?"

The leader took an involuntary step back. It was too late though.

Don flicked his wrist.

The man lifted off the ground, pulled forward through the air as if caught by invisible wires.

He struggled, limbs flailing, but could not break the hold. One moment he stood with his group, the next he hovered directly in front of Don.

Don then grabbed him by the collar with one hand. The man tensed, preparing to fight, muscles bulging.

But he never got the chance. Don threw him upward with tremendous force.

The shockwave from the throw blasted outward, a powerful gust that rocked the truck and forced Ash to steady the child and mother behind her.

The leader's body shot high into the air, shrinking rapidly against the sky as his screams grew distant.

People below stared upward in horror. Some turned away, expecting the worst. Others froze in place.

"He's gonna kill us!" one man in the group yelled, already bolting. Several others fled with him. A few remained, looking ready to fight, but most simply watched the sky in stunned silence.

The leader's screams grew louder again as he plummeted back toward the ground. The husband of the shielded woman stepped forward instinctively. "He's falling! He's gonna die if he hits the ground!"

A police officer warned him before he could take another step. "Don't move!"

The man hesitated, one foot forward and one back. Everyone's gaze remained locked upward as the figure descended faster and faster, screams raw with genuine terror.

At the last possible moment, Don's telekinesis caught him inches above the pavement. The sudden stop slapped the air against the man's face, turning it red.

His eyes were squeezed shut. When they opened, the cracked road filled his vision.

Don released the hold. The man dropped the final short distance with a faint **thud~**, gasping on the ground.

Don turned to the nearest officer, voice even. "He's all yours. If he tries to resist arrest, let me know. The same goes for him." He nodded toward the husband who had tried to intervene.

No one spoke up in their defense. The crowd remained frozen for another long second. Don turned away as if nothing had happened, climbed back into the truck, lifted another care package, and passed it forward to the student waiting at the door.

The rest of the scene stayed suspended in stunned silence, the weight of what they had just witnessed settling over the block like a heavy blanket.