Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Through his scope, Dominic's attention remained laser-focused on the stairs, completely oblivious to his vulnerable position. His finger hovered over the trigger, ready to squeeze at the first sign of movement. Then, out of nowhere…

**BANG BANG BANG**

Thunderous shots pierced the air while Dominic's virtual body trembled as bullets tore through his back, his vision flickering before everything faded to black.

He respawned in the barn's ground floor, right beside the scattered hay he'd tumbled onto earlier. His fists clenched as rage bubbled up inside him.

"Son of a-" Dominic was dumbfounded, his voice full of anger as he kicked the nearby hay bale with all his might. "What in tarnation!"

Pieces of hay scattered across the floor as Dominic began to think about the farmhouse's layout, his teeth grinding as realization hit him. The only way Don could have gotten that shot was by camping beside the door.

"Well fuck me sideways!" Dominic cursed, delivering another savage kick to a clump of hay. "What kind of yellow-bellied coward camps like that in a one-on-one? Ain't got no shame at all!"

As he was complaining, his interface flashed in his peripheral vision - six deaths down, three minutes and fifty-four seconds remaining. Dominic's couldn't help but frown as the harsh reality sank in.

Don had him completely cornered - camping if he camped, waiting in shadows if he rushed, and time slipping away if he moved cautiously.

"This dog won't hunt," Dominic muttered, his fingers tapping across his weapon selection interface. The sniper rifle disappeared, replaced by an assault rifle's familiar weight.

'I'm gonna get that snake-in-the-grass at least once, even if it's the last thing I do!'

Instead of heading for the barn's main exit, Dominic sprinted to the left wall. Once there, he yanked out his army knife, which he proceeded to use in combination with powerful kicks and savage strikes as he began hacking at the wall.

**THUD** **CRACK** **SLASH**

"Come on, you good-for-nothing wall!" he growled, his voice growing thicker with each strike. "Ain't no wall gonna keep this cowboy penned in!"

Splinters flew as he alternated between kicking and slashing, his movements growing more frenzied with each passing second. Sweat would have been pouring down his face if this hadn't been virtual reality.

Before long, the wall began to give way under his assault, small cracks appearing where his knife struck.

"When I get my hands on that camp-happy varmint," Dominic continued his tirade, "he's gonna wish he'd never crossed paths with me!"

Even from the farmhouse Don could hear some of Dominic's distant cursing after the last kill. He was smirking under his virtual attire as he calculated Dominic's likely respawn points - either outside or within the barn.

With that in mind, Don moved away from the entranceway and began to make his way toward the living room. However, he came to a stop at the stairs where Dominic's body had fallen moments ago.

His eyes fell on the sniper rifle lying there, and without hesitation, he scooped up the weapon, swapping it for his assault rifle, which he let clatter to the wooden floor as he dropped it.

The rifle felt natural in his grip as he tested its weight. 'I can't tell if a rifle is supposed to feel like this but, Perfect balance,' he thought, giving it an approving nod.

Sniper rifle now in hand, he turned his attention to the living room, where a window beckoned him, its broken panes offering an ideal exit point. Without a second thought, Don launched himself through, landing with a soft thud in the patchy grass below.

**rustle** **rustle**

The grass rustled around him as he dropped prone, the dampness seeping into his clothes. Through the scope, he carefully swept the barn's perimeter, paying special attention to its roof where he felt Dominic could create a makeshift sniper nest.

"Where could you be," Don muttered under his breath, maintaining his routine despite not catching sight of Dominic yet.

His patience was quickly rewarded when movement finally caught his eye - but not from where he expected. Instead of the roof, Dominic burst through the barn's side wall in a display of raw frustration.

**crash** **bang**

"Dadgum piece of-" Dominic's voice carried across the field as he delivered several more kicks to the splintering boards. "I'm gonna put you six feet under, ya hear me?"

The hole finally gave way, and Dominic emerged, assault rifle clutched tightly. His movements were fast, angry, as he began his advance toward the farmhouse.

His rifle remained trained upward, scanning the second-floor windows with tunnel vision. It was clear he was going all in now, with no regards at all for caution.

Amateur mistake, Don thought, steadying his breath as he watched through the scope. The crosshairs followed Dominic's progress across the open field, the target's attention still fixed on the upper floors.

"Where are you hidin', you yellow-bellied-" Dominic started to lower his aim slightly when something caught his attention - a flash of light from the side of the house.

Don saw the moment of recognition in Dominic's movements, that split-second widening as he realized his fatal error. The scope's reflection had given away Don's position, but it was already too late.

**CRACK**

The shot rang out across the battlefield. Don's aim was true, the bullet finding its mark dead center in Dominic's forehead. His body shook violently, his weapon dropping from lifeless fingers as the virtual world faded to black around him.

"CONSARN IT ALL TO TARNATION!" Dominic's roar of rage echoed through the entire field.

Don allowed himself a small chuckle as he maintained his prone position, already anticipating where his opponent might appear next.

Dominic respawned next to the rusted tractor. His jaw clenched tight, hands gripping his virtual rifle with white-knuckled intensity.

Seven kills down. The score mocked him from the corner of his vision, each digit burning into his retinas like a brand of shame.

"Fuckin-" Dominic grit his teeth as he slammed his fist against the tractor. **CLANG** The hollow metal sound echoing across the field.

Every move he'd made had backfired. Every strategy had been countered. The supposed 'amateur' had been two steps ahead at every turn, and Dominic's blood boiled at the thought. His chest heaved with rapid breaths as rage clouded his vision.

"To hell with this," he waved his hand dismissively, reaching for his menu interface. Without a second thought, his gazed focused on the quit option.

On the other side of the house, Don was still prone when a sudden notification caught him off guard:

[Dominic_TX has left the match]

Before Don could process what happened, a larger message filled his field of view: Enjoy exclusive chapters from M-V-L

[VICTORY]

The virtual world began dissolving around him, pixels scattering like autumn leaves as the sky above replayed the match highlights. Don watched, still trying to understand what had just happened, as his consciousness faded back to reality.

In the physical world, Dominic's pod hissed open with a soft WHOOSH. He then placed his hand on the edge, preparing to exit, his face showing exactly how he felt.

The lounge area behind him erupted with movement.

"DOMINIC TEX!" His father's voice boomed across the room as he shot up from his seat, face turning an alarming shade of red.

Mrs. Tex rose quickly, her hand reaching out toward her husband.

"Charlie, wait-" she called after him, then turned to Elliot who had half-risen from his seat. "Stay here with your sister, honey."

Dominic had barely gotten one foot out of the pod when his father's backhand caught him across the face with a sharp **Pa~**. The force of it sent him stumbling, his shoulder hitting the pod's frame.

"What in tarnation was that?" Mr. Tex's voice thundered, his already had to hear accent thickening even more with rage. He jabbed a finger toward his son's chest. "You tryin' to make us look like a bunch of yellow-bellied cowards in front of everybody? We Tex's do-not-quit!"

Mrs. Tex rushed forward, placing herself between them. "Charlie, please-"

"Don't you 'Charlie' me, Denice!" Mr. Tex's face was practically purple now, veins standing out on his neck. "Our boy just threw away generations of family pride like it was yesterday's newspaper!"

Dominic straightened up, his cheek burning red from the slap. His green eyes blazed with a mixture of shame and defiance. "He was cheatin', Pa! Ain't no way-"

"Cheatin'?" Mr. Tex's laugh was harsh and bitter. "Boy, the only thing I saw was you runnin' away with your tail between your legs! A Tex doesn't quit, you hear me? We don't quit!"

In his seat, Elliot watched the scene unfold, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his shirt while their sister sat frozen beside him, eyes wide with concern.

The match replays continued to play on the overhead screen, each highlight of Don's victories adding salt to the wounds.