Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 106: If You Don’t Show Off, What’s the Point of Living?

One hour earlier...

"Are you insane?!"

Milanie’s voice cracked as she stared at Lynn, seated atop Sealed Artifact 3-0098. Her hands clenched tightly into fists, and her modest chest heaved with anxiety. Whether it was from fear or dread of his next reckless act, she couldn’t tell.

Sealed Artifact 3-0098, the Chair of Torment.

Anyone who sat on it and donned the helmet affixed to its back would instantly experience unbearable pain. It was typically used by Her Highness, the Princess, to break the wills of the most stubborn prisoners.

So far, no matter how tough or defiant the victim claimed to be, no one had lasted without breaking into screams or sobs. Insanity was a common result, and most didn’t survive more than ten seconds.

The chair didn’t employ slow, drawn-out torture—it delivered hundreds or even thousands of times the usual pain threshold to a person's psyche in an instant.

The record for endurance belonged to the Creationist Sect’s High Priest, Askin. But even that turned out to be merely one of his avatars.

Lynn, busy adjusting the Sealed Artifact, replied casually, “This is my contingency plan for dealing with the Sealed Artifact outbreak. If all goes well, after this step, the crisis should end. Only the final cleanup will remain.”

“And how does this relate to what you’re doing now?!” Milanie lunged forward, trying to pull him off the chair.

She desperately wanted Afia and the others to return alive. She also hoped someone would rescue Her Highness, who was always so isolated. But she didn’t want Lynn to get hurt in the process.

Even though she endured daily pestering from this annoyingly cheeky guy, Milanie had grown accustomed to it over the past month. As someone engrossed in research, she found herself, against all odds, thinking of Lynn as an indispensable companion.

She couldn’t stand idly by and watch him throw his life away.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Miss Milanie.” Lynn raised a finger to his lips. “Promise me you’ll keep it confidential.”

“I have an ability that lets me absorb unlimited amounts of pain and store it as energy, which I can release later when needed.”

“You’re not part of the Saint Perception faith...”

“Which is why you need to keep it a secret.”

As he spoke, Lynn patted her on the head. Milanie started crying again. “Anyone who’s ever gotten off that chair either died in agony or went mad! Even the strongest minds couldn’t handle it—”

“Maybe I’ll be the first?”

Lynn removed the helmet from the chair and calmly placed it on his head.

In an instant, it felt like a powerful electric current surged through his entire body, combined with the sensation of being subjected to dozens of executions in mere seconds.

“F***, f***, f***, f***, f***!!!”

Nonhuman levels of agony swept through him. For the first time, he regretted his earlier bravado and wished he could beg the Sealed Artifact for mercy.

It was that painful.

Compared to this, being thrown into a meat grinder might as well have been a soothing massage.

How much time passed? He couldn’t tell. When Lynn’s vision cleared, he realized he was drenched in sweat.

Milanie was sobbing uncontrollably in front of him, clutching his hand and gently caressing it, as if trying to soothe his suffering.

“Enough… please, that’s enough,” she pleaded.

Looking at Lynn’s pale face, Milanie felt a sharp ache in her chest. He was just a boy, not even eighteen, whose family had recently suffered a major tragedy. Once stripped of his original strength, he was exiled to this remote outpost of Orne City.

He was the youngest of all of them.

And yet here he was, carrying the heaviest burden without a single complaint.

“How long… did I last just now?” Lynn’s voice was hoarse. His body felt like it had been torn apart, his muscles twitching uncontrollably. His brain felt ready to burst, as if he could pass out from the pain at any moment.

“T-Twenty seconds… Please, stop. That’s enough.” Milanie looked at him with teary eyes. “You’ve already lasted longer than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Miss Milanie.” Lynn took a few deep breaths, trying to recover his composure. “If the pain from a single execution equates to one point of pain energy, how much did I accumulate just now?”

“Twenty-six points,” Milanie answered immediately, her knowledge of Sealed Artifacts coming in handy.

In other words, Lynn had endured the equivalent of twenty-six executions’ worth of pain in twenty seconds—roughly one point per second.

Lynn slumped back into the chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. After a moment of silence, he asked, “If… hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically, how much pain energy would it take to deal significant mental damage to a demon who once held divine status but is currently weakened, around Sixth Rank?”

Milanie froze, her face pale as she seemed to grasp his intent. “I… I don’t know.”

“You’re lying, Miss.” Lynn slowly sat up, his expression calm. “Tell me the truth. I’m ready.”

“You’ll die. You’ll absolutely die!” Milanie bit her lip stubbornly, unwilling to answer.

Lynn met her gaze for a long time and saw the determination in her eyes. With a sigh, he said, “Miss Milanie, aren’t you curious why I’m going to such lengths?”

Her confusion deepened. After all, Lynn had only been at the estate for less than a month. He hadn’t formed deep bonds with anyone. As for Her Highness, the Princess? She had detained him, even using mental hypnosis on him. Who wouldn’t resent that?

If anything, his actions contradicted his supposed impulses. Joining Kesha and the others in returning to the Imperial Capital would have been the logical choice.

So why had he jumped off the carriage?

Sensing her scrutiny, Lynn lowered his head, trembling slightly as he clenched his right fist.

“Because it’s about my life philosophy.”

“If you don’t show off, what’s the point of living?”

Milanie had been expecting a profound, heartfelt explanation from Lynn, one that reflected wisdom or deep-seated ideals. What she got instead left her stunned.

"That’s your reason?" she blurted out, her teary eyes widening in disbelief. Yet her expression—half exasperation, half amusement—was undeniably endearing. "You’re joking, right?"

"What else did you think?" Lynn chuckled. "Why do you think I jumped off the carriage?"

He leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "To put on a proper show, you need a good setup, dramatic twists, and, of course, the right audience. You, Afia, Duke Tyrius, even Her Highness—the Princess—all of you are my perfect audience."

"I don’t want to see you cry anymore. I want to see the joy of a miracle in Afia’s eyes. I want Greya to kneel down and shout, ‘Father, you’re amazing!’ I want Duke Tyrius to be so shocked he gives me a thumbs-up."

"But most of all, I want to see Her Highness with an expression that says, ‘Ah, I’ve finally been saved.’ After all, she always looks so self-pitying, as if the world will never come to her rescue. If that’s the case, I’ll be the first to save her."

"And if she could shed a tear for me, that would be even better," he added, smirking.

Oh, and if that icy, world-weary witch could show just a hint of confusion or amazement, Lynn thought, his satisfaction might reach an entirely new level.

With that, Lynn reached for the helmet again.

Milanie stood frozen, processing his words and weighing their meaning. After a long pause, she lowered her head. "...1000 points," she said softly. "If you want to harm a demon who once held divine status, you’ll need at least 1000 pain points."

"Got it."

Lynn drew a deep breath, his determination unshaken.

Those who wish to wear the crown must bear its weight.

Milanie watched as he donned the helmet once more. His face twisted in excruciating pain, but he didn’t cry out this time. She felt a sudden impulse. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a Recording Stone, wanting to capture every moment of the young man’s sacrifice.

It wasn’t right for only her to remember this. Everyone needed to see how much he endured to save them—including Her Highness.

A sharp snap of his fingers sent waves of energy radiating across his mental realm. The pain Lynn had stored within his Sea of Consciousness, like countless Thorns and Wailing Shadows, erupted in an unstoppable surge.

The massive figure of Kushustain sneered coldly. "A mere ant like you thinks such cheap tricks can—"

Before the demon could finish, the crimson wave of agony tore through its mental defenses, striking directly at its core consciousness.

“ROARRRRRR!!!”

Kushustain’s expression twisted as if struck by lightning. Its previously domineering and cruel face contorted in agony, its enormous claws clutching its head as its mountainous body collapsed.

The Demon of Creation, ever perceptive, had sensed something was wrong. Yet within Lynn’s mental domain, there was no escape. The second wave of pain dissolved the demon’s sludge-like form, scattering it like a trembling pile of broken slime.

"You... what have you done?!" the Demon of Creation howled in anguish.

"Nothing much," Lynn said with a shrug. "I just returned all the pain I’ve ever endured—doubled."

Turning his gaze toward Kushustain, now writhing in agony, he added mockingly, "By the way, I wasn’t lying earlier. The damage you inflicted on me? It honestly didn’t hurt that much—it felt more like you were throwing a tantrum."

That insult was the final straw. Kushustain roared in fury, its teeth grinding audibly as its translucent form flickered. Its once-terrifying aura receded like a tide, signaling the end of its Divine Descent.

The realization of its dwindling power drove Kushustain into a frenzy. Its colossal claws pounded the ground, and its enraged howls echoed throughout Lynn’s mindscape.

The demon, once an embodiment of malice, was now filled with regret. If only it hadn’t recklessly descended into this human’s domain...

"Damn you, human!!!"

In its final moments, Kushustain loomed over Lynn’s consciousness, its enormous shadow blotting out the sky. With one last guttural roar, it unleashed a vicious curse:

"Human!!! You are doomed to die!!!"

"I curse you!!!"

"I will see your filthy body torn apart, shredded, and smashed to pieces!!!"

"I will see the darkness choke you, and my claws forever clutch your throat!!!"

"I will see every one of your kin writhing in agony, their hearts gnawed upon by a thousand ants!!!"

"I will see the innocent suffer for your sins, devoured by beasts, limb by limb!!!"

"Even if it takes a thousand years, I will hunt you across time and space!!!"

With its hateful words echoing through his mind, Lynn felt a searing brand etch itself into his Sea of Consciousness. A demonic curse had been placed upon him—a snarling, bloodthirsty sigil of malice.

As the last traces of Kushustain’s presence vanished, leaving behind only the demonic brand, Lynn let out a long sigh.

He glanced at the writhing remnants of black sludge scattered across his consciousness—the fading presence of the Demon of Creation. Though severely weakened, it still posed a lurking threat.

"You think you’ve won?!" the demon snarled, trembling with rage.

"Think?" Lynn said calmly. "I don’t think—I know. I’ve won. Twice over. A huge win."

"You’re just First Rank!" the Demon of Creation hissed. "Your victory is meaningless! Once I recover—"

Lynn cut it off with a sigh. "Yvelia, I’m sorry to say... I lied to you."

"Everything I said before? It was all fake."

He gazed down at the demon, his expression cold. "I came here to kill you with no intention of holding back. But from the start, I never planned to approach this equally."

"I won’t die. The one destined to perish... is you."

"YOU!!!"

The Demon of Creation, writhing in agony, struggled to reconstruct its consciousness while attempting to reclaim dominance over Lynn’s mental space. Its piercing screams reverberated with venomous hatred.

Yet, Lynn offered no resistance.

He simply canceled his flight ability, letting his body plummet freely.

As the familiar sight of the underground palace grew closer, his expression remained calm.

The first and second steps of his plan were complete. Only the final step remained to bring this absurd and chaotic Level 0 Sealed Artifact outbreak to an end.

But before that, he had unfinished business to settle.

At some point during the descent, Lynn felt the surrounding space grow sluggish, as though something was slowing his fall.

Then, without warning, he fell into a cold yet soft embrace, his face brushing against something that carried the familiar fragrance of roses.

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