Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 33: Second-Tier Ability—Crown of Thorns

“Do you wish to spend 10 system points to draw an ability?”

Staring at the roulette-like wheel adorned with over thirty carved segments, Lynn swallowed nervously. The jostling of the carriage beneath him made his heart race.

Greya sat nearby, chattering incessantly, but Lynn paid no attention. His mind was entirely consumed with the decision to draw a new ability.

The Lie Eater, his first-tier ability from the previous draw, had proven invaluable despite its initially unimpressive description. It had played a crucial role in navigating the recent dangers, earning Lynn’s trust as a surprisingly powerful skill.

However, he was sorely lacking a direct offensive capability. Guns were his only weapon, and they had serious limitations.

The memory of that night in the tavern, where he had barely survived a life-or-death gamble, still haunted him. He had only triumphed because Morris had hesitated to kill him.

This can’t keep happening. I need to get stronger.

Recently, Lynn had managed to deviate Yveste’s storyline by 0.13%, earning him 12 system points. He decided to use them now, resisting the temptation to upgrade Lie Eater.

Taking a deep breath, Lynn pressed the confirmation button.

The roulette wheel spun, and the tension gripped him. The pointer jittered before settling on a peculiar symbol: a twisted face formed by the amalgamation of countless grieving souls, faintly glowing with blood-red light.

Another original addition not in the source material. Lynn sighed.

Then came the system’s notification:

“Congratulations! You have acquired the second-tier ability—Crown of Thorns!”

Lynn perked up. The name sounded promising. He quickly opened the ability’s description:

- Name: Crown of Thorns

- Tier: Second

- Effect: The pain you experience is amplified twofold. However, you can store this pain and release it all at once as an attack.

- Activation Requirement: Must possess 3 or more Divine Factors.

- Upgrade Cost: 50 points.

“...”

Lynn groaned internally.

While undeniably powerful as a stacking active skill, its price was steep: he’d have to endure pain firsthand to weaponize it.

Kill 800 enemies while losing 1,000 of your own? No thanks.

Lynn wasn’t the masochistic type. In fact, he hated pain. He’d only feigned composure during the earlier torture to maintain appearances.

And with this ability, his pain would double.

Couldn’t I just get a normal offensive skill? A fireball, maybe a waterball? Something straightforward!

With a resigned sigh, Lynn closed the system interface.

---

“Were you even listening to me?” Greya’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Of course,” Lynn replied absentmindedly.

Greya’s nerves, already frayed, were further rattled by Lynn’s casual demeanor.

The Princess must have made a mistake entrusting this mission to us, he thought, forcing himself to stay composed.

“We’ll be arriving at the slums soon,” Greya reiterated. “Don’t make a scene and provoke public outrage.”

“Our job is simple: have all 312 displaced civilians sign these contracts.” He handed Lynn half a stack of thick papers. “The contracts are enchanted to ensure compliance, preventing the spread of Creationist Sect beliefs within the city.”

“Each individual must sign. It’s the minimum condition set by the City Council and the Security Bureau before allowing them entry.”

Lynn skimmed the contract, written in ancient Saint Roland script. It stipulated that the signatory would refrain from promoting Creationist Sect doctrines within Orne City, with a penalty of magical backlash for violations.

“I understand,” Lynn said, shaking his head. “Still, it’s ironic. These people aren’t under Her Highness’s jurisdiction. This problem belongs to the City Council, yet they’ve dumped it on us.”

Greya sighed. The nobles were exploiting Yveste’s weakened position, mocking her exile to this frontier region.

The princess had been deliberately sidelined by Saint Roland VI, and some princes might even be pulling strings to worsen her situation.

---

As the carriage stopped, Lynn looked toward Afia, still biting the back of his head.

“How much longer are you going to hang onto me?” he asked.

Huffing indignantly, the black cat finally let go and gracefully landed inside the carriage.

“You deserved it!” she snapped, turning away.

The carriage door opened, and Lynn and Greya stepped down, with Afia trailing behind.

Bright midday sunlight illuminated the sprawling shantytown before them.

A patchwork of makeshift shelters, some roofed with straw, stretched across the empty field outside the city. The squalor was undeniable.

A sea of displaced civilians filled the area, many in tattered clothes with eyes dull from despair.

Some knelt in fervent prayer to the Goddess of Creation, hands clasped before their ramshackle homes.

Noticing the newcomers—well-dressed and clearly privileged—suspicious eyes turned toward Lynn and Greya.

Two uniformed officers approached, resting hands on their gun holsters.

“Master Greya? Surprised to see you here,” one officer said with a sycophantic smile.

The Augusta family’s influence was well-known, though the officers clearly enjoyed the opportunity to foist responsibility onto others.

“This is the situation,” Greya demanded.

The officer bowed slightly. “A group tried forcing their way into the city earlier. We injured two to restore order.”

“We were told you’re in charge, so we’ll follow your lead. No interference from us.”

The officer’s cunning smile betrayed his relief. Clearly, the Security Bureau wanted no part in this mess.

Now fully burdened with responsibility, Greya found himself at a loss.

Just as he tried formulating a plan, Lynn spoke:

“You’ll do whatever we say?”

The officer hesitated before nodding. “Of course, young master. Your wish is our command.”

“Then kill them all,” Lynn said matter-of-factly, gesturing at the civilians.

“Wha—?!” Greya froze, his back drenched in cold sweat.

Solve the problem, not eliminate the people causing it!

Killing civilians would ignite a political firestorm, dragging Yveste to the gallows and shaking the Saint Roland Empire to its core.

“S-surely you’re joking...?” the officer stammered, unsure if Lynn was serious.

Lynn laughed softly but gave no clear answer. Instead, he turned to Afia.

“Hey, what’s for dinner at the manor tonight?”

“Braised stew and beef... Wait, why are you asking?” Afia replied, eyeing him warily.

“Getting hungry,” Lynn said, patting his stomach. “It’s midday now, so if we wrap this up quickly, we’ll make it back in time for dinner.”

“You’re not making sense. What are you planning?” Greya demanded, his patience wearing thin.

Lynn ignored him, striding purposefully toward the gathered crowd.

Time for some quick work.

He activated Lie Eater, spreading his arms dramatically.

“Attention, everyone! Eyes on me!”

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