Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Don and Miss Claire sat on the balcony of *Circe*, an upscale establishment known for its elegant architecture and breathtaking view of the city.

The café was on the highest floor, offering a panoramic look at the vast metropolis below. Skyscrapers stood tall and proud, their windows gleaming as the sun cast a soft afternoon glow over the city.

Farther out, smaller buildings dotted the landscape. Beyond them, the horizon stretched endlessly, the faint line where the sky met the distant ocean barely visible. The hum of traffic and the distant chatter of the city's inhabitants felt far removed from the serene atmosphere on the balcony.

The circular glass table they sat around was simple but stylish, with a modern design that added to the café's refined ambiance. Don sat with a mug of coffee in front of him, while Miss Claire held a delicate cup in her slender hands, taking graceful sips.

She set her cup down gently on its holder, the soft **clink** of the porcelain filling the quiet space between them. "Are you fine with just coffee?" she asked, her voice calm but curious.

Don nodded, holding his mug in one hand. "Yeah, I don't like eating outside of my diet if I can help it."

Miss Claire raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I see, you're very dedicated, it seems."

Don smiled. "I try to be."

A short silence followed, filled only by the distant sounds of the city. But, in the next moment, Miss Claire's phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up with an unknown caller ID.

She glanced at it, her face showing no sign of urgency, just mild interest. Her perfectly manicured fingers lifted the phone, and she studied the number for a moment.

"Is it still the Dean?" Don asked, his tone casual.

Miss Claire nodded her head slightly. "I don't pass around my number wantonly, and few people would try to call me as much as this man is trying. Well, it didn't take long for him to find out the truth." She pressed the side button, ignoring the call, and placed her phone back down with a soft **tap** of disinterest.

"There's no point in answering," she said, her voice smooth as ever, "not until you and I come to a personal understanding as well."

Don tilted his head slightly. "Sure. In what regard, though?"

Miss Claire leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other with practiced elegance. "That's a good question." She paused, studying him intently before continuing. "Well, to start, you should understand that I'm not the best lawyer someone of your potential could acquire.

I'd call myself great at what I do, but definitely not the best—especially when it comes to dealing with popular clients."

Don looked at her with curiosity. "You don't represent people who are famous?"

Miss Claire nodded, a soft smile appearing on her lips. "I avoid it as much as I can. It's why most of my firm's clientele are well-off but lesser-known. Fame can be a double-edged sword, especially when the client is young and more likely to make… mistakes."

Don couldn't help but nod in agreement. Her words rang true. "You've got a point. Most lawyers who represent famous people are pretty cutthroat."

Miss Claire's eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. "You think I'm not?"

Don chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You definitely look like you are. But not in the sense that you'd do so without morals."

Her smile deepened, her gaze sharp but curious. "Is that what you think? Interesting." She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "What else do I look like?"

Don hesitated for a moment. 'I don't even know if what I've said so far is right. I can't read her at all. Her heartbeat's steady, her breathing calm, and those eyes... they never waver.' He shook his head lightly. "I'd rather not make any more assumptions without seeing if the ones I've made are true or false."

Suddenly, Miss Claire giggled. The sound was soft and unexpectedly melodic, almost like a cold symphony. It was brief but genuine, and for a moment, Don was caught off guard. If it weren't for what was now becoming his naturally unfazed demeanor, he might have widened his eyes in shock.

'She can laugh?' he thought, surprised by the thought.

The giggle faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind a delicate smile on Miss Claire's face. She sat back, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "You're quite the amusing young man," she said, her voice returning to its usual calm. "I see now why Sylvia seems so… curious about you."

Don smiled faintly at the mention of Sylvia, though he didn't comment.

Miss Claire's smile lingered as she added, "But we're getting off-topic. I'm glad you think highly of me. I won't say I feel the same just yet, but you're beginning to convince me otherwise." Her tone was playful but with a serious undercurrent. "Anyway, if I am to represent you, let me share some of my… work principles."

Miss Claire gently placed her cup back on its holder, the soft **clink** punctuating the pause before she began speaking again. Her fingers traced the edge of the cup idly as she looked across the table at Don, her expression calm but calculating.

"If you're to work with me, Don, you should understand the principles by which I operate." She sat up a little straighter, folding her hands neatly in her lap again as if ready to recite a well-rehearsed speech.

"First, I don't deal with extremes—no saints and no devils. My clients must be... complex. Neither purely virtuous nor irredeemably vile. Gray areas are where I thrive."

Don nodded slightly but kept his expression neutral, listening intently.

"Second, discretion is paramount," she continued. "I don't ask questions that don't need to be asked, and I expect the same from my clients. If I don't know something, it's because I'm not supposed to. And if I do know something, you can trust that I'll never speak of it outside the confines of our work."

Her voice was as smooth as the soft breeze that swept through the balcony, but there was a subtle edge to her words—an unspoken warning.

Don's gaze didn't waver, still and focused as he absorbed each word.

"The third principle," she said, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, "is loyalty. But not blind loyalty. I am loyal to my clients, but that loyalty is earned and can be broken if betrayed. It's a simple exchange—if you play by the rules, I'll go to the ends of the earth for you. But if you cross me, you'll find my services are suddenly very... unavailable."

Miss Claire continued, her tone growing slightly cooler. "Fourth, I work with efficiency. I don't waste time, and I don't tolerate indecisiveness. If I take on your case, I expect you to be clear and concise about your goals. There's no room for ambiguity."

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze still fixed on him, watching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. There was none.

"The fifth and perhaps most important principle," she said, her voice lowering, "is that I deal in reality, not morality. I'm not concerned with what's right or wrong in the eyes of others, only with what can be done within the law—or, if need be, around it." Her smile was small but knowing, as if she had navigated countless situations that most people would shy away from.

Don remained still, his face showing no emotion, but he was impressed by her candor. 'It's clear she's walked this line many times. Just what type of people are her clients?'

Miss Claire's eyes flickered with curiosity as she studied Don. "Funny," she remarked, "for someone so young, you have a sharp and unmoving gaze after hearing how I conduct my work. Tell me, had you already assumed I operate in such… ways?"

Don smiled softly and shook his head. "No, not at all. I just tend not to be too shocked by what I see or hear after my time in Colombia."

He delivered the line smoothly, but inwardly, he knew it was a lie. The truth was, nothing in his past could explain his calm demeanor—it was simply part of who he was now thanks to a combination of the system and his new double life. 'It's the best excuse I can give,' he thought, mentally noting the lie he'd spun.

Miss Claire seemed to accept it without question, nodding in understanding. "Sylvia mentioned that, actually, when she first told me Summer had a brother. I'm curious about your time there, but according to my principles, I won't ask."

Her gray eyes sparkled with interest, but true to her word, she didn't press for details. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting. "But for you, specifically, I have one more additional principle."

Don raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And that is?"

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