Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

The inspection dragged on for twelve excruciating minutes. Dominic and his father circled the pods like vultures, running their hands along the surfaces, tapping screens, and making exaggerated humming sounds. Finally, they turned toward Dr. Rajesh, who had been standing patiently by his desk.

"Well," Dominic's father drawled, his accent thick as molasses, "pods seem fine enough, but these specs ain't exactly what we're lookin' for."

Dominic crossed his arms, wearing a smug smirk. "Yeah, these are what wannabe pros practice in."

Dr. Rajesh maintained his composure despite the insults, his hands clasped behind his back. "We should be getting started then, yes?" His accent lilted through his careful pronunciation.

"Fine," Dominic's father waved his hand dismissively. "C'mon son, we'll use a guest account." He paused, his boots scuffing against the polished floor as he turned. "Can't risk havin' your account credentials stolen by these dodgy pods."

Donald, who had been leaning against the wall, couldn't contain his irritation any longer. "Only old gen pods have that risk," he muttered under his breath. "Pods these days all have biometric logins. He's just being an ass about this."

Sigh Dr. Rajesh gestured Don toward the nearest pod. "Do not speak bad about them. Let them not unnerve you. Is just tactic to make opponents less focused."

"Makes sense," Don nodded, walking toward the pod. "No point reacting to their bait."

Don began removing his shoes as he prepared to enter the pod.

Though his knowledge of VR-Sports in this world was limited, he'd absorbed enough theory to appear competent.

His movements were fluid and confident, a perfect cover for his inner uncertainty.

His enhanced senses worked overtime, catching every subtle detail on the pod, allowing him to mirror the expected behavior flawlessly.

The pod's hatch opened with a soft hiss as Don settled inside. Across the room, Dominic did the same, his movements equally confident but with an air of superiority.

Dominic's father rested his hand on his son's pod, his boots making hollow thuds against the floor as he shifted his weight. "So what mode? Random?" He showed a condescending smile. "Y'all can pick so you don't complain about bein' outdone."

Donald watched anxiously from the sidelines, hoping Don had studied enough maps to have a strategy. After yesterday's performance, he kept his concerns to himself, choosing to trust in Don's abilities.

"1v1, random map, basic weapons, no attachments," Don responded clearly , enough for everyone to hear.

Chuckle "Fine," Dominic's father's laughter echoed off the walls as he responded with a louder tone as well. "This'll be child's play."

From the lounge area, the mother couldn't help but comment as well. "They must think that'll give him a chance. Hah!"

Elliot sat near her, his expression tight with concern, but his mother either didn't notice or chose to ignore it, continuing to tap away at her phone with manicured nails.

Don's face remained impassive as he adjusted his position in the pod. "I'm ready," he called out to

Dr. Rajesh, his voice calm despite the mounting tension in the room.

Dominic's father frowned at the confidence in Don's voice, his weathered face creasing with contemplation. "Finally," he answered back with his thick accent, arms crossed confidently over his chest. "Been ready a long time ago, son."

Dr. Rajesh nodded subtly, his fingers moving across the external control panel. "Then we shall begin," he announced in his distinct accent. Click The pod's seamless cover descended with a gentle hydraulic hiss.

Don was laid back, watching as darkness enveloped him.

The blackness lasted mere seconds before multiple semi-transparent screens materialized before his eyes, folding out like digital origami.

They displayed various statistics alongside a wireframe diagram of his body, with the words

"SCAN IN PROGRESS"

pulsing steadily at 50%.

The message shifted: "CLOSE EYES AND RELAX - NEURAL-LINK INITIALIZING."

Following the instruction, Don closed his eyes and a peculiar sensation washed over him. It was like thousands of microscopic needles were gently pricking his skin.

Rather than fight it like his instincts said to, he remained still, allowing the feeling to spread across his body.

"Neural-link made," a soft female robotic voice announced. "Please open your eyes and select login method."

Don's eyes fluttered open to find himself suspended in a stark white void. Before him floated a game like holographic interface panel with three options glowing in cool blue text:

——— Read exclusive adventures at mvl

**Guest Login**

**Biometrics Login**

**Email Login (Not recommended on public pods)**

———

The interface tracked his eye movements with precise responsiveness, scrolling through the options according to where he looked and focused.

Despite his natural curiosity about this formless space - where even his own body seemed absent - Don focused on the task at hand, selecting guest login with a quick focused glance.

"Connecting to server," the robotic voice intoned before the white space began to fade. A few seconds followed before it added, "Connection successful."

The fading void then erupted in brilliant white light, causing Don to instinctively shield his nonexistent eyes.

And he slowly reopened them, the sterile whiteness had transformed into a huge military-style lobby.

The space stretched out before him, its gunmetal walls gleaming under flickering atmospheric lighting.

Holographic markers hovered above different stations:

———

"WEAPON LOADOUT" floated above a reinforced titanium locker system, its doors lined with high-tech equipment like guns and tactical items.

"OPTIONS AND MODES" marked a bank of curved holographic displays, their surfaces rippling with data, most of it purely for aesthetics.

"TRAINING GROUNDS" indicated a set of heavy blast doors

"MATCHMAKING" glowed above a circular platform with player statistics floating around its circumference

"CUSTOMIZATION" highlighted a wall of steel lined mirrors and equipment displays

———

The ceiling was overhead, its surface interwoven with glowing circuit patterns that cast a subtle blue tint across the polished floor.

**Whoosh**

A holographic menu materialized at Don's peripheral vision, displaying his current status as "UNRANKED" alongside various gameplay statistics, many of which were marked 0 or unavailable.

'Woah,'

Don thought, taking in the futuristic military aesthetic. Although he couldn't really smell any distinct scents aside from clean air, he could hear the distant sounds of simulated gunfire from the training grounds area and the mechanical whir of the weapon modification stations.

Everything felt tangibly real, from the cool metallic surfaces to the weight of gravity pulling at his now-visible virtual body.