Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 52: The Death of Lynn (Part 2)

“Miss Milanie,” Lynn muttered, sprawled face-down on a medical bed, “how do you make a woman remember you so deeply that she can’t forget you?”  

The petite brown-haired woman paused mid-examination, her hand frozen in place. She glanced at him, then raised an eyebrow with a hint of concern.  

“I know my body might be tempting to you,” she said, feigning seriousness, “but isn’t it a little too early for such thoughts?”  

“No one’s tempted by your body,” Lynn retorted with a groan.  

“Rude brat,” Milanie shot back, rolling her eyes before resuming her usual laid-back demeanor.  

Picking up a nearby instrument, she began measuring something near his head.  

“By the way,” she said absently, “it’s strange. After you, I tried hypnosis on fifteen more test subjects, but none of them succeeded.”  

“Could it be that your case is… unrepeatable?”  

She wasn’t wrong.  

None of those doomed prisoners had the Lie Eater, a god-tier skill beyond comprehension.  

The casual conversation continued as Milanie conducted her examination. Lynn remained still and cooperative throughout.  

Halfway through, Milanie seemed to remember something. She reached for a small bottle on a nearby table and tossed it to him.  

Lynn caught it, inspecting the contents. Inside was a glowing green speck, faintly resembling a firefly.  

“What’s this?”  

“Exactly what you think,” Milanie said with a nod.  

“It’s the latest result from Research Facility No. 8—a Divine Factor stripped of its original imprint.”  

Lynn fell silent, staring at the bottle in his hand.  

He recognized it all too well.  

After all, his fall from grace as a forsaken one had been orchestrated by none other than the Mosgra family.  

He could still vividly recall the Archbishop of the Divine Order Church, the one who had personally extracted his Divine Factor. That man was undoubtedly one of the key conspirators.  

Even now, Lynn remained perplexed. What about the Bartleon family had been so desirable that it drew such a relentless, wolf-like onslaught?  

Perhaps only on the day he exacted his revenge would the truth be revealed.  

“Her Highness spent considerable resources to procure this,” Milanie said earnestly. “You may think her methods are heavy-handed, but she does value you deeply.”  

I’d rather she didn’t, Lynn thought dryly.  

Seeing his silence, Milanie decided not to press the matter. Instead, she added, “This Divine Factor belongs to the Sacred Insight faith. For now, it’s the most compatible option for you.”  

“It’s distinct from the three major churches of the Empire, being popular only in the Silensstat Republic of the southern continent. Its followers are mostly scholars who value knowledge and academia.  

“While it won’t make you a powerful combatant, it will grant you heightened perception and exceptional memory—a good fit for research and technical pursuits.”  

“Got it,” Lynn replied absently.  

To him, it didn’t matter. He had no intention of using it.  

A real man needed raw power, not just clever tricks.  

His goal remained unchanged: to acquire the strongest Divine Factor and take on the entire world, bending it to his will.  

To achieve that, he had to ensure the Witch of the End would remember him forever and willingly make him her follower.  

But time was running short. If he failed to become Extraordinary soon, suspicion would arise.  

With a sigh, Lynn mused aloud, “Milanie, in your opinion, what’s the most profound emotion?”  

“Anger? Despair?”  

Milanie paused thoughtfully before shaking her head with a smile.  

“Neither,” she said.  

“What, then?” Lynn asked, puzzled.  

“Anger and despair are intense, but they fade with time,” she explained. “The most enduring emotion is one that lingers, undiminished, over years and decades.”  

“For example… regret.”  

Her answer struck him like lightning.  

A sudden realization lit up his mind. He knew now how to make the Witch of the End remember him for eternity.  

“Milanie,” he asked, a sly grin forming, “how skilled are you in alchemy?”  

“Are you underestimating me?”  

Later that evening…  

“Come in,” said a soft voice.  

At the sound of the knock, Yveste answered from her chair by the window.  

The day’s work had left her visibly fatigued. She reclined in a velvet chair, her legs crossed, a glass of wine delicately held in her fingers.  

The deep red liquid swirled under the moonlight as her wrist moved gently.  

Stripped of her cold, public persona, Yveste seemed softer in the privacy of her quarters. She had changed into a thin, white, laced gown, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. She radiated a serene, intellectual beauty.  

But the moment Lynn entered, her expression shifted.  

The elegance vanished, replaced by a familiar mischievous smirk.  

Her inherent wickedness bubbled to the surface.  

Seeing Lynn obediently step inside, Yveste was pleased.  

Good. He’s becoming more docile.  

Obedient dogs are the most adorable.  

She activated her Eye of the Mind Sigil, preparing to hypnotize him once he got close enough.  

She wanted to uncover what he’d been hiding earlier and extract any strategies he might have for dealing with Duke Tyrius.  

But just as she prepared to act, Lynn stopped in his tracks.  

“Your Highness,” he said abruptly, “I have an unusual request.”  

Surprised, Yveste paused, lowering her hand slightly.  

“What is it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.  

“You once had a ring that could detect lies, didn’t you? The one you wore when the Divine Order envoys visited.”  

Yveste raised an eyebrow but made no effort to deny it.  

“I do,” she said coolly. “Why?”  

“I want you to wear it,” Lynn said with a bow. “I’m about to say some things, and I want you to judge their truth for yourself.”  

Intrigued, Yveste retrieved the ring and slid it onto her finger.  

“Go on.”  

Lynn nodded, taking a deep breath.  

“First,” he began, “if I fully support you, there’s at least a 70% chance you’ll win the Succession Ceremony.”  

The statement made Yveste’s hand tremble slightly.  

She sat upright, staring at the boy before her.  

The ring… remained silent.  

The absence of a reaction meant his words were entirely truthful.  

Though she had no way to verify the 70% figure, Yveste trusted his extraordinary competence and insight. Even if the real odds were lower, it was still a significant improvement over her near-zero chances before.  

Her excitement mingled with confusion. Why is he saying this now?  

Lynn offered no explanation, continuing with his second statement:  

“From the day I was captured, I have never stopped longing for freedom.”  

This time, Yveste’s good mood soured.  

The ring’s silence confirmed his honesty, leaving her displeased.  

“You—” she began.  

But Lynn interrupted with a smile.  

“Two truths so far, Your Highness. As an exchange, I want you to say something to the ring.”  

“What is it?” she asked, her tone sharp.  

“I want you to say, ‘In my eyes, Lynn Bartleon is a human being with dignity, not a plaything.’”  

Her gaze turned icy as an oppressive aura filled the room.  

“You dare threaten me?” she asked coldly.  

Lynn met her glare, unfazed.  

“I have a third truth to share,” he said calmly.  

“Yveste, I’m tired of your games. Let’s end this today.”  

From his pocket, he produced a test tube containing a clear, viscous liquid.  

“This is Water Ghost Toxin, highly refined,” he explained.  

“One dose stops the heart within a minute.”  

The ring remained silent, and Yveste’s unease grew.  

“What are you doing?” she demanded as her Thorns began to surge forward.  

But she was too late.  

Lynn smiled faintly as he raised the tube to his lips.  

“I’m doing this.”  

And he drank.  

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