[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-supervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander":3,"chapter-supervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander-supervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander-chapter-357":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},713326,952,"Chapter 357: Thickening Alliances (Part 6)","supervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander-chapter-357",357,"\u003Cp>Don didn't need to think long.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His answer was silent—but it was there. Solid. Decided.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After that, the two of them spent the remaining time sharpening their story—cutting the edges, adjusting the angles. It wasn't hard. Both of them knew how to control a narrative. The challenge wasn't shaping the truth. It was deciding which pieces of it to kill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles did most of the talking after that. Details. Names. A few personalities Don might expect at the meeting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't name them like colleagues.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He named them like chess pieces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the time 2 p.m. rolled around, the helicopter was already cutting through the air above Santos City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don sat on one side of the cabin. Charles on the other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Neither of them said a word.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From their view, the city looked even more bruised than usual. Cracked roads. Thin lines of smoke in the distance. Chopper shadows cutting across windows below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The closer they got to SHQ, the more noticeable the protests became.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dozens of people gathered on the streets. Some carried signs, most of which weren't kind. Others just stood there, screaming themselves hoarse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From this height, they looked small. But the anger was loud enough to feel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles leaned forward slightly, staring through the glass with a far-off look in his eye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a long silence, he said, \"It's funny, isn't it? Being a hero.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don looked at him. Charles didn't return it. \"You sacrifice a few to save many—and they demand justice. You leave them to die—and they demand justice again.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave a small shake of his head. \"You bleed either way. But the crowd's never satisfied unless someone's burning.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don turned his gaze back to the window. \"They're driven more by emotion and impulse than logic and reason.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Exactly,\" Charles murmured. \"So why keep risking ourselves to protect people like that?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don didn't answer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because he didn't need to.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles's face remained unreadable. Still. But it was clear—he wasn't happy with how this was unfolding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They touched down on a rooftop landing zone attached to one of SHQ's largest buildings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>**Whrrr—THNK**\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rotors slowed as Don tapped through his phone. Messages. Mostly from Samantha, Summer, Donald… and Elle. He responded to a few, then slipped it back into his pocket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles didn't move. His eyes were still out the window. Watching the protests disappear below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the doors opened, they were greeted by a woman already waiting by the edge of the platform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She looked to be in her fifties—Asian descent, average height, hair tied back in a tight bun. Her grey office suit was clean and crisp, but there was a subtle weight in her eyes. The kind that came from working too long in buildings where trust didn't exist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She gave a quick, professional bow. \"Mr. Monclaire. Mr. Bright. This way, please. Most of the others are already seated in the main assembly hall.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She turned without waiting and led them toward a set of metal doors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don glanced at the time. 'Early.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles caught the look and said without hesitation, \"We're on time. They probably got told to arrive early.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He scoffed after saying it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Gives them time to debate our fates behind closed doors.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The woman flinched slightly at the comment but didn't turn. She kept walking, leading them through a bland hallway lined with reinforced doors and security panels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the elevator, she swiped her card against the scanner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>**Beep**\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The doors opened with a soft chime.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I'll be taking my leave here,\" she said quickly, stepping back to let them through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles didn't even glance at her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he stepped into the elevator, he muttered, \"I find corporate dogs to be really ugly, you know?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His tone was casual—like he was commenting on the weather.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don followed him in, adding, \"I can understand why.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The woman's face paled slightly. She turned and walked off quickly before the doors shut behind them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>**Click**\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silence again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not because there was nothing left to say—but because they both knew they were being watched now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every inch of the elevator felt like it had eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So they waited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still. Quiet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The elevator ride soon ended with a smooth ding, followed by the sound of metal sliding aside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The doors opened into a wide, polished hallway—clean, symmetrical, and decorated in colors that seemed to be trying to appear noble. Blue and white panels lined the walls. Gold-trimmed lighting hummed faintly from overhead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along one side, medium-sized statues of heroic figures stood atop marble pedestals—names engraved into their bases with reverence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don walked silently beside Charles, eyes drifting toward the sculptures.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He passed a figure in a sweeping pose, plated in a stylized armor, one hand extended toward an unseen enemy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Silver Guardian, the plaque read.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don narrowed his eyes slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Charles's father?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The resemblance was hard to miss. Same jawline. Same arrogance cast in bronze. Don wondered—'will he be in the meeting?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Charles had never mentioned much about his family. Not even in passing. Don hadn't cared enough to press the issue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thought didn't linger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ahead, the hallway ended at two large doors—thick, metallic, clean. As they stepped forward, they hissed and parted automatically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>**Pssht**\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They entered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The room on the other side was massive—structured like a modern parliament chamber. Semi-circular rows of sleek seating surrounded a central space, all facing a high-raised podium where the top brass sat elevated, watching like gods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Director Graham sat in the center—stern, with a face carved from habit and hierarchy. Beside him sat Harold Barclay, his expression sharpened by something bordering on smugness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To Graham's other side sat a tall, wiry man in a white coat—Dr. Gadget. There were others—figures Don didn't recognize—but their suits and silence said enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The seats below were crowded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don's eyes swept the chamber.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He picked out faces almost immediately: Starboy, seated with arms crossed and jaw set. Thunderclap, jaw twitching with disdain. Phantom Strike. Frostbite. Andrew Barclay, seated like he owned the air he breathed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dozens more filled the chamber—some curious, others already judging. Many had eyes fixed squarely on Don.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not kindly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd barely been met any any of these people, and yet half the room looked at him like he'd personally insulted their lineage.\u003C\u002Fp>",1041,"2026-06-02T10:21:09.395Z",1,"novelbin.me","ca137c7ce0ed3e1be5dcd708044f4d8d838bd2980b46a14bdeb0245fc59aff76","supervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander-chapter-358","supervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander-chapter-356",647,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fsupervillain-idol-system-my-sidekick-is-a-yander-cover.jpg"]