Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

To say he was surprised would've been an understatement. As he was now, he couldn't imagine himself giving up such a valuable item so easily. Yet here Elle was, offering it to him without hesitation.

It only reinforced what he already knew—her devotion to him ran deep.

He looked up at her, showing a warm smile. "Anything you gift me is automatically perfect," he said smoothly.

Elle froze at his words, her face flushing red. "I-I oh… uhm… okay… y-yeah," she stammered, her voice barely audible as she lowered her head, but the big, warm smile that spread across her face was unmistakable.

Trixie, who had been watching the interaction, leaned against the desk with a bored expression. "Oh, get a room, you two," she muttered.

Don shot her a glance, smirking. "Someone's just cranky because she didn't get spanked."

Trixie didn't even deny it. "You bet I'm cranky!" she yelled, throwing her arms up. "Any other horny human guy would've jumped at the opportunity."

Don shrugged, maintaining his casual demeanor. "Where's the fun in that?" He then turned his attention back to Elle, the playful tone fading as he asked, "So, how does this work?"

Elle kept her head lowered, still trying to hide the smile she couldn't control. "The information… it's been uploaded into Gary Assist," she explained softly once more. "But… when you open the casing, it'll bind to the nearest person and form a tattoo. Then, if you say 'Enshroud,' the tattoo will form the suit around you."

Don nodded, pretending to listen intently, though inwardly he was feeling a sense of anxious excitement.

In his message to Gary, he had only requested a suit to help him move stealthily as a super-villain. Something useful, but not this extreme.

But Gary and Elle had gone above and beyond. 'They really overdelivered,' he thought, almost tempted to abandon his idea of building his own resources. Still, he knew better than to rely solely on others.

He set aside his concerns for now.

Steeling himself, Don carefully opened the glass casing. Almost immediately, the black blob shot out, latching onto his right hand with a sudden **slap**.

The slimy texture sent a shiver up his arm, and he grimaced as a burning sensation began to spread from where it had attached. Gritting his teeth, he held his wrist, watching as the blob started to morph, its inky black mass spreading and swirling around his arm.

**Ssshhh…** Thin, black mist emanated from the edges of the blob as it twisted and solidified into a tattoo.

The image that formed was an eerie, otherworldly skull, its dark outlines flickering with an unnatural glow.

As the transformation finished, Don's eyes rolled back, turning pitch black for a moment before returning to normal. He was left gasping for breath, sweat beading on his forehead as the burning subsided.

Elle's expression shifted to one of concern. She instinctively reached out toward him. "D-Don—" she started.

But before she could move any closer, Trixie appeared in a puff of pink smoke beside her. "Hold on," Trixie said, grabbing Elle's arm. "He's fine."

Still catching his breath, Don looked down at his right arm. The tattoo now fully covered his sleeve, and thin wisps of black mist continued to seep from it, curling upward like smoke.

He could feel the dark power coursing through him, an unsettling, almost overwhelming force. His lips parted, and he muttered the command. "Enshroud."

The room was immediately plunged into darkness. **Whooosh**—the lights flickered wildly before cutting out completely. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by a faint, distorted whisper.

When the lights flickered back on, Don was hovering at the center of the room, surrounded by thick, swirling mist.

The dark fog coiled around him like living shadows, gathering above his head to form a massive, skull-like shape. The skull's hollow eyes glowed with an eerie light, and its mouth opened, releasing a chilling echo that reverberated through the room.

"**Tenebris iterum surrexit**…" the skull's voice hissed in an unearthly Latin phrase, its words filled with distant, ghostly screams and screeches.

The misty skull hovered for a moment longer before plunging downward, merging with Don's body and causing the room to go black once more.

When the lights finally returned, Don was standing upright, his feet hovering just above the floor as the mist continued to swirl around him.

The shadows that enveloped him began to take form, shaping themselves into a sleek, armored bodysuit.

The material clung to him like a second skin, dark and textured, sculpted to accentuate his muscular build.

Gold accents ran along the suit's edges, tracing intricate patterns that seemed both arcane and futuristic. On his chest, a golden skull emblem glowed faintly, its eyes piercing as it stared outward.

Then…a skull-like mask formed around Don's head, matching the emblem on his chest. The metallic design was fearsome, leaving only it's glowing white eyes exposed, giving him an almost otherworldly presence.

Finally, a flowing black cape materialized behind him.

Elle and Trixie could only watch in stunned silence as the suit completed its transformation around Don's figure. The dark mist that once filled the room now condensed into the suit itself, creating an aura of shadow that radiated from him.

He stood there, suspended in midair, with his eyes glowing through the mask.

Elle's breath caught in her throat, her wide eyes locked on Don's new form. "D-Don…" she whispered, her voice barely audible but full of concern.

Trixie, on the other hand, crossed her arms and gave a low whistle. "Well, damn. Now *that's* what I'm talking about."

Don slowly lowered to the ground, his feet touching the floor with a soft **thud**.

He glanced down at his right arm, where the tattoo had once been—it was now part of the suit, the mist swirling subtly around it.

He could feel a strange raw power coursing through him, and though he remained calm on the outside, inwardly, he was reeling. 'This… this is incredible.'

With the transformation completed, Don took a moment to examine himself, his eyes trailing down to his hands.

He opened and closed his fists slowly, the movements feeling familiar, yet there was an undeniable difference—something subtle but powerful. It was hard to put into words, but it was as if he was both himself and something more.

Without turning his head, Don could sense exactly where Elle and Trixie were standing. A new awareness had bloomed within him, tied to the shadows beneath their feet.

He could feel their presence through those dark shapes as though the shadows themselves whispered their positions into his mind.

Elle's voice cut through his thoughts, cautious but concerned. "Are you… okay?" she asked, her tone delicate.

Don turned his head in her direction, a faint mist trailing after him as if it were tethered to his movement. His gaze fell on both Elle and Trixie, noting their reactions. Elle's eyes were wide, watching him carefully, waiting for his response.

"I'm fine," Don replied, his voice now a deep, resonant baritone. The sound reverberated with an authoritative echo, so much so that it almost startled him.

Trixie, on the other hand, laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "He sounds like an angry spirit," she teased, her lips curling into a grin as she eyed him up and down. "But I like how the suit showcases your body. Turn around, let me see the back view." She licked her lips as she spoke, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

Don narrowed his eyes at her, though the metallic mask didn't change expression. Still, it was enough to make him look intimidating. He shifted his focus toward the shadow beneath Trixie, feeling an odd pull, like he was connected to it.

As if acting on instinct, he concentrated on that feeling and moved.

Instead of walking, his body dissolved into black mist—**whoosh**—and reappeared directly in front of Trixie in a split second. Trixie jumped back, startled by his sudden appearance.

She quickly recovered, though, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Only I get to do that," she muttered with a pout, crossing her arms.

Don ignored her comment and turned toward Elle. "It's perfect. Thank you," he said, though with his new voice and ominous appearance, the gratitude sounded more frightening than sincere.

Elle, clearly flustered, quickly averted her gaze, trying to hide the smile creeping onto her face. "It's… it's my job as your sidekick," she muttered, her voice shy and soft. "You don't need to thank me… a-and… you're welcome… always."

Don watched her through the glowing white eyes of his mask and he gave her a small nod. But before he could say anything more, he suddenly heard a cold, emotionless version of his own voice inside his mind: **Must feed.**

The words echoed in his skull, and with them came a surge of primal hunger. It wasn't like anything he'd felt before—it was a need, sharp and gnawing, like the hunger for food but far more sinister.

He felt the urge to kill, to drain something, someone. And though he had never experienced it before, he knew exactly how to sate that need.

'What the hell…' Don thought, his grip tightening as he suppressed the urge.

For now, he managed to push it aside, and in an instant, black mist engulfed him once more. **Whoosh**—and when it faded, he was back to his normal self, the suit gone, his regular clothes returned.

Elle watched him closely, concern flickering in her eyes. "How… how does it feel?" she asked.

"Strange," Don replied, running a hand through his hair. "But I'll get used to it."

Elle fidgeted slightly. "Are… are you heading home now?" she asked, though her voice was carried a hint of disappointment.

"No," Don said, his expression unreadable. "I need to feed first."

Elle blinked, caught off guard by his words. "F-Feed?" she repeated, her eyes widening slightly.

Don nodded, "I'll explain later," he said, his voice returning to its usual calmness, "For now, I need information on the routes the Hell Rider's gang uses."