Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 1 : I don’t want to live anymore!

"Hey, beautiful, want a drink?"

Carola felt a tap on her shoulder.

She frowned and turned around.

Under the dim tavern lights, she saw a scruffy, bearded middle-aged mercenary eyeing her greedily.

She sighed, raised her middle finger, and replied without looking back, "Go home and have a drink with your mother… And by the way, I’m not for sale."

With laughter erupting around them, the mercenary left with a dark expression.

After dealing with the pest, Carola turned her gaze back to the distance.

She didn't mind being hit on; it just depended on who was doing it.

Like the young man at the bar.

Calling him a young man was fair; from his slender frame and the glimpses of his side profile, he couldn’t be that old—probably still a rookie.

There were several empty bottles on the table beside him. He was already tipsy, yet kept drinking, as if something was weighing heavily on his mind.

More importantly, he had jet-black hair.

Despite its slight messiness and waviness, it was a mark of noble lineage in the Saint Roland Empire.

Although she didn’t know which family he belonged to, judging by the fine leather boots on his feet, he was clearly from a well-off household.

The perfect "prey."

In fact, today marked the young man’s third day at this tavern.

From her observations over the past few days, Carola had pieced together the likely story.

The boy probably had a falling out with his family, stormed off in anger, only to find the outside world unforgiving. Yet he wouldn’t swallow his pride, leaving him in a bind and drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

To her, this inexperienced noble boy was practically a succulent lamb.

With that thought, Carola couldn’t contain her excitement any longer.

She downed her wine in one gulp, then stood up and gracefully approached the bar.

"Won’t you buy me a drink?"

She sat down casually beside the black-haired young man.

The young man didn’t seem too surprised. He snapped his fingers to the bartender. "An Amber for the lady."

Amber was the most expensive drink in the bar, costing ten silver coins a glass—only a fool would order it.

Carola smiled charmingly. "My name is Carola, and yours?"

"Does it matter?"

He wasn’t cold, but he also wasn’t as easy to lure in as she’d imagined. Was it the pride of nobility?

Taking the glass from the bartender, Carola took a delicate sip, letting her tongue lightly sweep over her lip. Her knee brushed against his leg.

The after-hours were ripe for romance.

As she prepared to say something, he spoke first.

"Since you accepted the drink, I have a question for you." He set down his glass. "Miss, this is the third day I’ve seen you watching me from the corner."

"If possible, I’d like a reasonable explanation."

He noticed?

The slight smugness in Carola’s heart gave way to caution.

But there was no way she’d blow her cover over a casual question.

She tilted her head playfully, letting her brown hair cascade down, and half-jokingly replied, "Because... you're good-looking?"

It was true.

To be fair, the young man in front of her was the kind of person you liked at first glance.

Handsome, with a noble bearing, blue eyes that gleamed, and a tear mole at the end of his long eyelid—a feature that added a soft touch to his otherwise striking face.

The only flaw was the dark circles under his eyes; he likely partied too hard with women, leaving him weak.

Perfect for her purposes.

Hearing Carola’s response, the young man gave her a look that screamed, "Typical woman," and looked away.

Brat… Reading his expression, Carola’s mouth twitched.

She quickly put on a fragile expression. "You… You don’t think I’m here for money, do you?"

Her pitiful look could melt the coldest hearts.

But this young man… was clearly no ordinary person.

"Aren’t you?"

Carola’s face darkened.

Only she knew that, in this border town slum, she’d scraped by all these years without a single man laying a finger on her.

Before she could say anything, he continued.

"Actually, we’re all here for money," he said slowly. "It’s just that we all sell different things."

The fire in Carola’s chest suddenly vanished.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

This guy…

Feeling as if he was teasing her, Carola felt a pang of irritation. She pressed down on her skirt, her cheeks flushed as she whispered, "Since you put it that way, aren’t you going to ‘buy’ me?"

The black-haired boy gave her a wary look. "Human trafficking is illegal."

Carola was so frustrated she could’ve screamed.

Is he pretending, or is he really this dense?

For the sake of her plan tonight, she bit her lip and decided to be blunt. "I mean, buy me, for the night."

He clutched his pocket. "I don’t have money."

"It won’t be expensive."

"Miss, I’m not the kind of man who brings strangers home on the first night. Don’t insult my character."

"For… free."

"Well, now that you mention it…"

...

Of course, all men are the same.

Once inside the room upstairs, Carola quietly took in the simple furnishings and decor, while drawing her own conclusions.

The boy’s clumsy excuses filled her with contempt.

Feigning a smile, she said, "Weren’t you saying something about a cat that can do backflips?"

She expected him to give her an awkward smile, then reveal his true colors.

Unexpectedly, he pointed to the bed, where a small black figure lay curled up.

"Over there."

Following his finger, Carola was stunned.

A small black cat, yawning, slowly rose from the head of the bed, stretched gracefully, and fixed its emerald eyes on them.

The young man snapped his fingers. "Little Black, show the lady a backflip."

Lady... Carola’s face darkened, just as she was about to speak, the cat meowed as if responding.

Then, before her eyes, the cat did a backflip, defying all logic.

Carola was dumbfounded.

No way, it can actually do that???

She’d thought "the cat at home can backflip" was just a lame excuse to get women into bed.

She never expected it to be real.

Had the world gone mad?

Her temples throbbed; everything tonight seemed off.

No, she couldn’t keep wasting time with this kid, or her blood pressure might spike.

Taking advantage of the young man’s distraction, Carola stepped forward and pushed him onto the bed.

For the first time that night, the black-haired boy looked genuinely surprised.

Carola’s lips curved in satisfaction at his reaction.

Pretending to stumble, she let out a soft "Oh no!" and fell into his arms.

The situation had quickly turned.

Ha, you’re so easy.

Carola had confidence in her charm.

She looked down; they were so close she could feel his breath.

Staring into his deep, ocean-blue eyes, Carola felt her heart skip a beat, though she quickly dismissed it.

Focus, Carola. Focus!

Finally regaining her composure, she heard him say in a slightly awkward tone, "Um… Is this really okay?"

"Why wouldn’t it be?"

"I haven’t showered yet."

"That’s fine, I don’t mind."

He shook his head. "I meant, *you* haven’t showered yet."

Carola: "..."

She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath to calm the pounding in her head.

Never mind. Don’t take it seriously.

In the next second, Carola let out a well-timed scream.

"Ahhh!!!"

"Bam—"

Almost instantly, the door burst open.

A burly man stormed in, holding a revolver.

He helped the "trembling" Carola to one side and then turned to the boy on the bed.

His expression betrayed a hint of guilt; he was clearly a novice at this.

But he put on a menacing face, pressed the boy down, and pointed the gun at him.

"Don’t move!"

Carola dabbed at her fake tears. "I-I didn’t expect it to turn out this way… I’m so sorry…"

In these situations, the typical response was panic, followed by a quick settlement.

Especially for nobles, who valued their reputation.

But the boy didn’t look flustered. He sized up the man calmly. "You’re her husband?"

"Of course!" the man said, feigning confidence. "You slept with my… my wife. Give me a reason not to shoot you!"

The boy didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a sigh.

"I can’t think of one."

The man paused. "What?"

"I can’t think of a reason you shouldn’t shoot me." He looked sincere. "If you’re really her husband, to be honest, I think you should."

The man was silent.

He looked at Carola, clearly lost.

Idiot… Carola cursed inwardly, but kept up her tearful act. "Th-this is my husband, Andre. He’s killed before… Don’t cross him, he will pull the trigger."

"Yes, I will!"

The man gulped, gripping the revolver.

"Then you'd be doing me a huge favor," the boy said, looking delighted. "Go on. I’ve been wanting this for a long time."

The next moment, he grabbed the barrel, pressing it to his forehead.

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