Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Chapter 285 - 285: Sabotage X Heroics (Part 14)

Meanwhile Elsewhere…

The rundown stash house behind the abandoned apartment complex on Prominila Road reeked of smoke, sweat, and stale booze. It was practically a forgotten place where only the desperate or dangerous dared linger.

The cheap lounge inside was a pit of worn-out furniture, stained rugs, and old, patched-together walls. The large glass windows and doors were painted black, with sections haphazardly plastered with old newspapers, adding a layer of grimy secrecy.

The early morning light barely managed to pierce through the shoddy coverings, leaving the room dimly lit by a flickering overhead bulb.

Scattered throughout the space were members of the Hell Riders gang—grimy, restless, and simmering with quiet rage. Some sat on busted-up couches, their boots tapping against the floor, while others leaned against stained walls, idly smoking cheap cigarettes or picking at scruffy beards.

The silence was thick, heavy with unease.

**BAM!**

Suddenly, the two glass doors slammed open, crashing against the walls with a loud **clang**. Every head snapped toward the entrance, their eyes flashing with alertness as their hands drifted toward hidden weapons.

But it wasn't a threat—not an external one, anyway.

It was Ash.

She stormed into the room with a face like a brewing storm, her eyes blazing with fury barely held in check. Her thick black boots with spiked heels hit the floor with heavy **thuds**, her long legs encased in tight leather pants that clung to her wide hips.

A cropped black shirt bearing a cracked skull emblem stretched across her chest, partially hidden beneath her worn Hell Riders denim jacket.

Ash's gaze swept the room, her expression daring someone to give her an excuse to explode.

"Good," she muttered, her voice rough and sharp like broken glass. "You're alert. Since that's the case…" She took a threatening step forward, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Can someone explain to me how five of our brothers got iced… and we didn't hear shit 'til hours later?! From a dirty fuckin' cop, no less!"

Her words sliced through the room like a knife. No one flinched—they were too hardened for that—but a grim, shared understanding settled over them. Five dead meant more than a loss. It meant failure.

Sitting on a stained couch with torn cushions on the armrest, a member called Cutter idly flipped a worn silver coin between his fingers, its edges worn smooth from years of use. His heavy boots tapped against the cracked linoleum floor in a steady, repetitive rhythm.

He turned his dark, calculating eyes toward Ash and spoke, his voice low but steady.

"That's right." The coin moved across his knuckles before disappearing into his clenched fist. "I know my little brother Rusty. He'd've sent an alert the second somethin' went sideways."

Ash's jaw tightened, but before she could respond, another voice echoed through the haze of smoke.

Leaning against the wall, another member called Black Pete exhaled a long stream of smoke from his cigarette. His scruffy jaw and weather-beaten face spoke of long years spent surviving the streets. He flicked ash onto the ground without looking up.

"We should've known somethin' was off when they missed the hourly check-in," he added, his tone heavy with accusation. "How come no one was sent to check it out?"

Ash's frown deepened as her sharp gaze swept over the room like a

His metallic knuckles rested casually on a knife-studded belt.

"You might wanna come see this," T-Back said evenly, his voice low and rough as gravel.

Viktor felt his stomach sink, the cigarette dangling precariously from his lips.

This wasn't going to be good.