Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 173: Among 80,000 Words in the World, "Guilt" Kills the Most

From the moment he received the Witch's Trial, Lynn had been pondering one question:

How could he make the female characters in the original novel, who were so devoted to Xiya, open their hearts and give him the opportunity to use the Mark of Corruption?

Now, he had finally found the answer.

Pestering them endlessly or resorting to brute force would never work. These women had arcs that shone brightly, their characters far from the type to be easily coerced like ordinary, shallow caricatures.

The more Lynn employed such tactics, the more Tiya would despise him.

Thus, even though his current persona was that of a childhood friend turned lovestruck underdog, Lynn had never once actively sought her out.

In fact, it was always the opposite—Tiya was the one who took the initiative.

One crucial point, however, held the key to breaking the stalemate.

As the Silent Saintess and one of the original novel's morally upright heroines, Tiya possessed an exceptionally high sense of morality and conscience.

Though she often appeared cold and indifferent, her heart was softer than anyone else's.

What sort of method, then, could make such a person compromise and yield, leaving an impression on her no less profound—if not more so—than Xiya's?

The answer was simple: guilt.

Only by making her feel guilty could Lynn exploit the deeply ingrained moral standards that defined her character, ensuring she would feel indebted to him.

No matter how hard her words might be, her inner response would never lie.

So, the moment Lynn heard from Xiya that the Silent Church would also be sending an interrogator, he almost immediately guessed it would be Tiya.

Because she cared about Xiya.

The more she cared, the less she would want the events of last night to reach his ears.

Thus, Lynn chose not to resist, allowing Xiya to become the high-and-mighty aggressor, leaving behind brutal and miserable wounds on his body.

Just imagine:

To everyone, Captain Xiya, the celebrated hero and embodiment of justice and morality, had for personal reasons ruthlessly beaten a truly innocent man, nearly to death.

How would Tiya feel upon witnessing and realizing this?

Lynn was curious.

Of course, this method would only work on someone like Tiya.

After all, the reason he had been framed by such shameless tactics in the first place was entirely due to the scar she had left on his chest before leaving.

Fate was truly fascinating—a perfectly constructed cycle where everything fell into place with flawless logic.

As for the injuries Xiya inflicted on him?

Lynn was a man who had accumulated over a thousand points of pain energy on the Chair of Torment. These wounds? They were nothing more than a tickle.

"Honestly, your punches are weak," Lynn wanted to say to Xiya.

Tiya, of course, had no idea what Lynn was thinking as she stood in the doorway of the interrogation room.

Watching the boy’s miserable and pained expression, she suddenly felt as though a heavy stone was pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Not only that, but a faint dizziness began to cloud her mind.

Why? Why did she feel like this?

She subconsciously murmured the question to herself.

If the elderly Enforcer hadn’t been lying, then the person who had just finished the interrogation was her brother, Xiya.

But what sort of interrogation could leave someone beaten to this extent?

Moreover, it was common knowledge that Lynn was not the Grafting Butcher, Borchumann.

The only reason he had been brought to the prison was to sully his name and weaken Yveste’s faction.

The military was surely aware of this as well.

And yet, her brother Xiya had still acted with violence.

How much of it was official duty, and how much was personal vendetta?

Tiya didn’t know, nor did she dare to think about it.

She feared that if she delved too deeply, she would uncover answers that would shatter her.

The Xiya she admired, the perfect brother who stood tall in her heart, also possessed such a violent and cruel side, especially toward someone innocent.

At this thought, Tiya instinctively moved toward Lynn.

The strong smell of blood filled her senses.

He... he was beaten and interrogated by Xiya because of me.

He shouldn’t have ended up in such a state.

Looking back, she realized just how despicable she was.

From beginning to end, all she had thought about was herself.

All she wanted was to escape public scrutiny and criticism, to bury the events of last night and preserve her image as the "pure and untainted" Saintess.

But in doing so, she had pushed all the pressure onto the other party—the one who had been directly involved.

No.

Had she really forgotten?

Or was it because of her cowardice and selfish desires that she refused to confront the truth?

Tiya slowly knelt down beside Lynn.

Even now, she still couldn’t recall the "past" that this boy spoke of.

Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t shake the unprecedented feeling that maybe—just maybe—what he said was true.

The reason was simple.

If he were lying, why would he hold out to this extent?

Tiya couldn’t make sense of it.

Her face was pale, her teeth clenched against her lower lip. She tentatively raised her hand, wanting to check Lynn’s injuries, forgetting entirely about the curse on her body.

But as her hand hovered over his bruised and battered skin, his sunken bones, it began to tremble.

The injuries were simply too severe.

Up close, Tiya realized just how heavy Xiya’s blows had been.

This wasn’t just interrogation—it was as though he had aimed to beat Lynn to death.

The pain must have been unimaginable.

And yet, even in this state, Lynn hadn’t revealed what had happened last night.

Anyone else would have bragged and exposed the ambiguous events between themselves and the Silent Saintess to gain a psychological upper hand against Xiya.

But Lynn had remained silent.

Tiya took a deep breath.

Since extraordinary abilities were suppressed in the interrogation room, she couldn’t heal Lynn.

For now, she decided to set aside her original plan to hypnotize him for questioning.

His survival was the most urgent matter.

Without hesitation, Tiya stood up, ready to call for someone to treat his injuries.

But just then, her gaze unintentionally caught sight of something unexpected.

It was a small bottle of pale silver Moonlight Elixir, hanging around his neck like a pendant—an arrangement that spoke volumes of how much the owner treasured it.

Judging by the bottle’s design and the fact that its contents were untouched, this was the very same bottle she had given him last night.

In that instant, a wave of intense confusion and unease surged within her.

“You... why haven’t you drunk it?”

After a moment of silence, Tiya asked softly.

Even if he hadn’t used the Moonlight Elixir last night, drinking it now would instantly heal all his injuries.

And yet, he hadn’t.

Was it because his injuries were so severe that he couldn’t raise his hand?

No, that couldn’t be the reason.

But beyond that, Tiya couldn’t think of any other explanation.

Just as she was about to delve deeper into her thoughts, the boy, his eyes shut tight and his breath faint, spoke slowly in a voice that seemed to waver on the edge of life and death.

“Because... this is the first gift... you gave me... after you lost your memory... cough, cough...

“I want to treasure it... for the rest of my life... and never use it.”