Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Chapter 693: Same City, Different Structure (Part 7)

Don and Charles returned to the main gathering area, their reappearance drawing a few curious glances from those nearby.No one was bold enough to ask outright what had transpired, but the shift in Bertram's behavior had not gone unnoticed.

The young man now sat quietly in a corner, staring at his phone with unusual focus, no longer slurring words or bothering anyone.

He looked almost sober, fingers moving rapidly as if deleting something with frantic urgency.

Miss Claire was among those who noticed. Her gaze flicked their way for the briefest moment, but her expression remained perfectly composed as she continued networking, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Don wondered how many others had picked up on the change yet chose to play it cool. High society thrived on selective blindness.

Time passed in a steady flow of conversations and shifting groups until the members of the new governing board stepped out for the press briefing.

Soon afterward, the elites began making their way outside for the commemoration ceremony. It was nothing grand or overly elaborate.

A simple stage had been arranged on the steps of City Hall, with a podium and rows of seating for dignitaries.

Don, Charles, Ash, and several other SHU students received their medals from Mr. Xiao himself.

The chairman made sure to highlight their contributions, framing them as shining examples of the institution's role during the crisis.

His words painted a clear picture: while police and soldiers had done their duty, the students of his school had stepped up in numbers that no other group could match. It was a masterful boost to both his personal image and that of SHU.

Despite the occasion honoring those who had actually been useful during the incident, protesters still lingered at the edges of the secured area, their voices rising in occasional shouts and insults.

The strange contrast hung over the entire event, but it concluded without major disruption as the afternoon wore on and people began to disperse.

Don stood on the ground floor inside City Hall with Ash and Pyro. The latter had been recounting his experiences, describing the civilian operations he had joined even after the first chaotic days.

Unlike Ash and Don, Pyro had thrown himself into multiple relief efforts, his tone carrying a mix of exhaustion and quiet pride as he gestured with his hands while speaking.

Charles approached them after saying his goodbyes to several fellow elites. He moved casually, his casted arm held carefully at his side. "Ready to go?"

Don nodded. "Let's go."

He turned to Pyro first. "Later, man." Then to Ash. "Come on."

Ash remained silent throughout, offering no farewell to Pyro as she simply fell into step beside Don.

Sometime during the middle of the ceremony, Charles had pulled him aside with a proposition.

He had prefaced it by saying he doubted Don would want any part of it, which only piqued Don's curiosity.

When pressed, Charles revealed it was a joint project between himself and Mr. Xiao. Don wasn't particularly surprised—the two elites shared overlapping interests, and despite mutual reservations, the advantages clearly outweighed them.

Don accepted the offer to join. Details would come later, once the commemoration wrapped up. Which was now.

The trio stepped out of City Hall and headed toward the designated parking area, where police still maintained a tight perimeter around the elites' vehicles.

Individuals were guided to their cars with the same careful security.

Don had already informed Miss Claire of his plans to leave with Charles for the project.

She had no objections, only asking that he rejoin her at city hall if he finished early, as she would remain behind to represent a client in discussions with members of the new governing board.

They left without fanfare in a dark silver Mercedes Sprinter.

The interior was even more luxurious than the standard model, with plush leather seating, subtle ambient lighting, and finishes that spoke of quiet wealth.

Don, long accustomed to Charles's tastes, settled into his seat without comment. Ash, however, could not stop glancing around.

She pressed her fingers into the cushions experimentally, her expression shifting as she thought, 'It's softer than my fucking bed…'

She tried to play it off, sitting straighter, but the wonder lingered in her eyes.

Charles used his good hand to retrieve a bottle of whiskey from a built-in compartment. He looked at Don first. "Want a glass?"

"Sure."

Charles turned to Ash next. "Would you like some, or do you prefer something else?"

Ash glanced at Don, as if seeking permission. He appreciated the subtle sign of deference.

Without a word, he reached out and took the bottle from Charles. "Let me help you with that." He poured a glass for himself, then one for

Charles, and finally one for Ash. The vehicle rolled away from its parking spot so smoothly they barely felt the motion.

As they moved through the city, Charles began to explain. He glanced at Ash briefly. "Is it okay to talk business around her?"

Don replied without hesitation. "Think of her as my personal assistant. If it's business related, yes. If it's something for our ears only, then no."

Charles gave a nod, followed by a charming smile as he swished the whiskey in his glass and took a casual sip.

He let out a satisfied sigh. "Before… we talked about how there are still so many people out in the streets.

"Despite the new government's initiatives, there is only so much they can pull together and divert toward civilian care."

"As you can imagine, they still have to think about the repair of damaged streets, schools, roads, hospitals—just to name a few."

"This creates a vacuum for the people because in our society, when you lose everything, it means you also lose the ability to help the government."

"Those who are now disabled or have lost their businesses or workplaces can no longer pay the government. And if they can't pay the government, why should the government take care of them? It's cruel, but it's a business."

Don noticed the shift in Ash's expression. As someone from a much lower background, she likely did not enjoy hearing such blunt truths from someone as privileged as Charles. He kept his focus on the conversation.

Charles continued. "And so this is where Mr. Xiao came to me with a proposition. It's nothing grand, but in the current state of the city it certainly will be." He leaned forward slightly. "We'll be doing charity work."

Don raised an eyebrow. "Charity work?"

Charles nodded and chuckled lightly. "Yes, charity work. You and I, along with several other students directed via Mr. Xiao, will distribute care packages across the city while at the same time running a survey."

"As we give them food, clothes, and direct them to places they can sleep instead of the streets, we'll ask them about what they used to do or what their business was. If they're children, we'll ask where their parents are, if they're superhumans, and so on."

Don could see the layers immediately. The public image boost for Charles, Mr. Xiao, and the school would be significant.

Beyond that, it offered a structured way to identify valuable assets—talented orphans, displaced superhumans, or struggling businesses ripe for investment.

It likely ran deeper than Charles was revealing in Ash's presence, but Don did not press. He simply nodded.

"I understand. We don't only give back to the city but also boost our images and that of the school. It definitely sounds like a plan Mr. Xiao would orchestrate."

Charles chuckled and nodded. "Yes, it most certainly is. I think he's trying to make sure he has the most power on the new governing board. As much as he and my brother share similar tastes, they are in no doubt rivals."

"Mr. Xiao got the position as head of the new board due to his seniority, but the fact that my brother is a member makes it known that he likely wants to be the head. Mr. Xiao is wasting no time to ensure he remains in a superior position. My brother will find it very hard to overtake him, especially with us collaborating with him."

Don kept his thoughts to himself. 'Charles and Mr. Xiao are wasting no time making moves to ensure the new order of the city favors them. It's about time I make sure I do the same—both as Don and as Predator.'

The Sprinter continued its smooth journey through the recovering streets, the conversation flowing as the afternoon light shifted across the tinted windows.

——-

About two hours later, Don, Charles, and Ash were no longer in the comfort of the Mercedes Sprinter.

They had traded its quiet luxury for the more utilitarian interior of several trucks moving through the city, distributing care packages to those still struggling in the aftermath.

The process itself carried no special flair. The vehicles would pull up to a street, soldiers and police maintaining a loose perimeter while the team assessed who needed help and handed out supplies where it was clearly required.