Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Their bodies disappeared beneath the heavy wheels with a sickening **crunch**, blood spraying across the road.

Marcus and the man next to him barely dodged in time, diving to the side as the SUV was shoved toward them. They hit the ground hard, rolling onto their backs as they watched the truck plow through the toll gate, shattering the barrier and tearing down the road, heading for the mountains.

Gasping for breath, Marcus pushed himself up onto his knees, his heart hammering in his chest. He glanced down and froze. The hand of one of the crushed men lay limp on the ground nearby, fingers twitching ever so slightly in their final moments.

The other man, who had been smashed from the waist down, was barely conscious, gurgling blood. His eyes were wide with fear, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he weakly stretched out a hand toward Marcus, silently pleading for help.

Marcus's stomach churned at the sight. The blood pooling around the man's body, the way his broken form twitched as life slipped away—it was too much. He felt like he was going to be sick. But he couldn't move. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's desperate, outstretched hand.

"Marcus! Come on!" the man who also managed to dodge the truck shouted, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to his feet. "Shit, we have to move!"

The sound of engines roared to life as the men behind the truck quickly jumped into their cars, tires screeching against the road. One of the SUVs pulled up near Marcus, the door flying open as he and his companion scrambled inside.

Marcus, still in shock, climbed into the back seat. He thought they were about to head back, but his eyes widened in horror as he realized they were going after the truck. "What the fuck are you doing, Cole?" Marcus asked, grabbing the driver by the shoulder. "We need to be going the other way!"

Cole, a burly man with a scar down his left cheek, shrugged off Marcus's grip, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Shut the fuck up. If we lose what's in that truck, we're as good as dead," he snapped, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. "Shit! Shit! Fuck!"

Marcus didn't back down. "How the hell are we supposed to deal with something we don't even know? What if it's one of those freaky things?"

Cole clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together. "Shut up and hold onto your gun," he barked. He glanced at the man who had climbed into the car with Marcus and added, "Whatever that was killed Arnie's friends, we don't let outsiders hurt our brothers and steal our shit. If they were invincible or whatever, they wouldn't be trying to run away, right?

So shut your mouth, Marcus, and just keep it together."

Marcus, unlike the others, was terrified. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to turn back, to get the hell out of there.

He had always been fearful of the arcane, and everything about this felt wrong. But at the same time, many of the men he was with had been part of the gang since they were kids.

They had survived fights with superhumans and mutants. They had faced death and laughed in its face. That sort of bravado gave them confidence, and Marcus could feel it pulling him along, even though he knew better.

The convoy of SUVs sped down the road, chasing after the truck. Before long, they came upon the two SUVs and motorcycles that had been ahead of them. The vehicles were stopped near a dark tunnel, and it was immediately clear why.

The truck they had been chasing was parked in the middle of the tunnel. Its headlights were off, and the trailer loomed like a shadow in the darkness. The men in the lead SUVs had already gotten out, standing by the tunnel's entrance, weapons in hand, staring into the blackness.

Cole pulled their SUV to a stop, and the men quickly gathered around him. One of them glanced at the tunnel and then at Cole. "What now?"

Even with his usual bravado, Cole hesitated. Something about the scene in front of him didn't sit right. His instincts told him to go slow, to be cautious. He wasn't about to rush into the darkness himself.

So he turned to Marcus, his eyes hard. "Go check it out," he said coldly, his words more of an order than a suggestion.

Marcus's heart dropped. "W-What? Why me?"

Cole narrowed his eyes. "'Cause you've been whining this whole time. Now go."

Marcus swallowed hard, his legs trembling beneath him. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn back, but the eyes of the other men were on him.

Slowly, he nodded as he began to walk toward the truck.

Marcus took each step with great caution, his boots scraping lightly against the rough road of the tunnel. The dim glow from the distant light at the entrance cast long, distorted shadows ahead of him.

Every few steps, he glanced back over his shoulder, hoping to catch a reassuring nod or gesture from his comrades. Instead, he was met with their anxious faces. It was clear—they weren't coming to his aid if things went south.

His grip tightened on the shotgun, finger resting nervously on the trigger as he gulped and kept walking.

The further he walked, the more the darkness seemed to swallow him. Marcus soon came to a stop, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned his head back and shouted, "Can you guys turn on the car headlights?"

The group exchanged uncertain glances before looking to Cole for direction. With a curt nod from him, two men scrambled to the nearest SUVs, and another pair rushed to the motorcycles.

Engines rumbled to life and the cars we moved a little closer, with additional headlights flared up, casting wider arcs of light into the tunnel. While it helped illuminate some of the space, large portions remained cloaked in shadows, the old vehicles' lights insufficient to reach the depths.

Marcus swallowed hard. The oppressive darkness ahead seemed almost alive. "Can you drive the cars closer, guys?" he called out, his voice echoing faintly.

Without missing a beat, Cole answered back, "No way! The cars are close enough." His tone left no room for argument. "If you're so scared, you can just come back! But don't expect a ride back to base—the gang's no place for cowards!"

A mix of frustration and dread washed over Marcus. He knew Cole was exploiting the situation, but the harsh reality was that turning back would brand him a coward.

In their world, reputation was everything.

Being ostracized from the gang meant losing not just his livelihood but his family. The weight of that thought pressed heavily on him.

He could only suck it up and press on.