Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 31: The True Weakness of the Greed Box

“Y-Your Highness, something terrible has happened!” Morris stammered, his tone laced with urgency.

Emerging from the shadows, he solidified his form inside Yveste’s study.

Yveste frowned, visibly displeased by her subordinate’s breach of protocol. She didn’t put down her teacup, instead asking calmly, “What is it?”

“Lynn... Lynn is in the cellar, and he’s preparing to release that thing!”

“What thing?”

Her brow furrowed further, and Afia, who had been dozing on the desk, rubbed her sleepy eyes awake.

“The Greed Box,” Morris replied, swallowing nervously. “Lynn’s discovered some of its rules and seems to be... doing something risky.”

Even he didn’t fully grasp the implications of Lynn’s actions. But Milanie’s grave expression earlier had been enough to unsettle him.

Yveste set down her teacup with a clink, rising from her chair. An invisible aura of authority filled the room, making even the air feel heavy.

“Who allowed you to take him there? Is he unharmed?”

Lynn wasn’t just any subordinate—he was the only successful subject of the hypnosis experiments and someone she regarded as the future head of the Bartleon family. There was no room for error, especially with something as trivial and reckless as this.

The mere thought that Rhine had dared to bring him near the Greed Box enraged her.

During its initial testing, the manor had sacrificed over a hundred death row inmates to gauge the box’s abilities. Any slight misstep could result in the box endlessly extracting its victim’s life force until nothing remained.

“He’s fine,” Morris assured her, though his voice wavered. “To be honest, he seems to be thriving down there... If anything, I’d be more worried about Rhine.”

Morris couldn’t help but think Rhine had brought this upon himself.

“Your Highness, I think it’s best if you intervene.”

Yveste closed her eyes, considering his suggestion. Moments later, her icy expression softened, and she returned to her chair as though nothing had happened.

“There’s no need. Let him do as he pleases,” she said coolly. “But tell him this: I’m indulging him this time. He’d better make it worth my while by completing that task for me.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” Morris saluted, though he couldn’t help but pity Rhine.

Does this mean she’d forgive Lynn even if he killed Rhine in the cellar? Morris thought, utterly shocked.

After Morris left, Yveste sighed softly, pinching the bridge of her nose to relieve the monotony of paperwork.

“He’s such a troublesome one,” she murmured.

“Your Highness, aren’t you worried he might do something irreversible?” Afia asked, her curiosity evident.

Yveste’s expression remained calm. “Don’t worry. He’s clever. He won’t stir up trouble at a time like this.”

That unspoken understanding was why she had chosen to let him be.

Noticing Afia’s eyes sparkling with excitement, Yveste could guess what she was thinking. The hyperactive Afia could never resist joining the fun.

“Go on, keep an eye on him for me,” Yveste said casually, resuming her work.

Afia nodded eagerly before dashing out of the study.

---

“Made it?”

In the containment room, Lynn lounged in his chair, legs crossed. He greeted the breathless Rhine with a smirk.

Casually tossing a crumpled paper ball in one hand, Lynn enjoyed the puppet’s obedient leg massage with the other. Occasionally, he mimed basketball shots, as if ready to throw the paper into the Greed Box at any moment.

Seeing this, Rhine’s anger boiled over.

“What... what do you want?” he demanded, his tone wary.

His fear stemmed from the message scrawled on the paper:

“Give me a coin, and I’ll give you a promise: Rhine Augusta will set you free.”

The meaning was clear. If the transaction went through, Rhine would be compelled to release whatever entity was trapped inside the box. Violating the deal would mean death, while complying would incur his father’s wrath—not to mention the ire of Her Highness.

This was a no-win situation.

Of course, that assumed Lynn would actually toss the paper into the box.

Lynn chuckled. “You’re asking the wrong question. Shouldn’t it be what you want?”

“You brought me here. You left me to fend for myself. Even now, I can feel your barely concealed rage,” Lynn said, his voice dripping with mockery. “So tell me, Rhine. What do you want?”

Gritting his teeth, Rhine tried to suppress his frustration. “You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

“Don’t assume you’ve uncovered all the Greed Box’s rules in just a few hours. As far as I know, any trade with it requires the person making the promise to be physically present. If you throw that paper in, the box will only recognize you as the participant. You’ll be the one paying the price.”

Despite his words, Rhine didn’t dare risk it. The stakes were too high.

Lynn’s smirk deepened. “I called you an idiot, and you’re still proving me right.”

“Do you really think I’d show my hand without being absolutely certain I could kill you?”

Rhine froze.

“You’re correct about one thing,” Lynn continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “The trade must involve the person making the deal. So why not just... bring that person here?”

He refused to elaborate, dismissing Rhine as beneath his notice.

Next to him, the puppet redoubled its massage efforts, clearly hoping to avoid being Lynn’s next target.

---

Lynn’s confidence stemmed from his earlier experiments.

During one test, he wrote:

“Give me a coin, and I’ll give you a drop of my blood.”

This time, he substituted "Lynn Bartleon’s blood" with "my blood."

Activating the Swallower of Lies, Lynn lied to himself:

“I am Rhine Augusta, eldest son of Baron Augusta and heir to the estate.”

What happened next was fascinating. The paper hesitated, its text glitching before resetting entirely.

Lynn realized that while the box could identify a participant’s consciousness, it relied on surface-level thoughts. As long as he "believed" he was someone else, the box accepted it.

This loophole—accessible only through his unique abilities—was the Greed Box’s greatest weakness.

---

Sweat dripped down Rhine’s face as he observed Lynn’s unshakable confidence.

“Don’t be so tense,” Lynn said with a grin. “We’re colleagues, after all. Out of respect for Her Highness, I wouldn’t really kill you.”

“But death is off the table. Punishment? That’s another story.”

“Rhine, Rhine... You handed yourself over to me. Now, how shall I deal with you?”

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