I Am The Villainess Who Will Tame Every Yandere Heroine!-Chapter 46: The Man Who Wouldn’t Shut Up

Captain Smugface's eyebrow twitched. Just the tiniest bit. A normal person might not have noticed, but Clara had been shackled in this damp excuse of a prison long enough to consider making a hobby out of watching his face slowly lose composure. It was delightful.

"You think this is funny?" he asked, voice a careful balance of restrained fury and a man who desperately needed to win something today.

Clara tilted her head, pretending to think. "I think you trying so hard is funny. I mean, the whole 'intimidating villain' thing? It's cute. Like a puppy trying to be a wolf."

His jaw clenched. Oh, this was too easy.

"I could have you tortured."

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't enjoy a little excitement in this dreadfully boring cell," she sighed, glancing at the cracked stone walls with a look of pure indifference. "Seriously, do you even have a window? This is borderline inhumane."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, probably reconsidering his entire career. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

"Oh, on the contrary," Clara mused, shifting her wrists slightly, the chains rattling. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with. A man who's on the verge of an existential crisis because he can't get a single reaction out of me." She flashed him a grin, all teeth. "Am I close?"

His eye twitched again. Ah, victory.

A vein twitched in his temple. "I don't think you understand the position you're in."

Clara gasped, eyes widening in mock horror. "Oh no, am I—" she glanced down at her chains, then back up at him with a slow smirk. "—a prisoner? How ever will I cope?"

Captain Smugface let out a long, suffering sigh and cracked his knuckles. "You think this is a joke?"

"No, I think you're a joke," Clara corrected. "This? This is just tragic."

And so began the war of attrition.

The first method he employed was the classic 'scare them with violence' approach. Unfortunately for him, Clara had grown up scrapping with people twice her size, and a few punches to the ribs weren't about to make her suddenly spill her secrets.

If anything, it only made her more determined to ruin his day.

"Oof, that one almost hurt," she mused after a particularly strong hit. "But I think you're leading with the wrong foot. Here, let me give you some pointers—"

His fist slammed into the wall next to her head. "Shut up."

Clara gave a dramatic yawn. "Oh, my apologies. Was this supposed to be intimidating? I thought we were just warming up."

His patience frayed further when he tried the 'psychological torture' route.

He blasted an ear-piercing, looping track of what had to be the worst song in existence, off-key bagpipes mixed with screaming goats. A normal person would've cracked within an hour.

Clara? Clara started humming along.

By the time hour three rolled around, she was making up lyrics.

"Oh, Smugface thinks he's clever, But I will break him, never! He's got a tiny brain, And he smells like shame—"

He shut off the music with a growl. "You are the most infuriating prisoner I have ever had."

"Awww," Clara cooed, tilting her head. "Is that a compliment? Are we bonding? Is this my villain arc?"

He ignored her, opting instead to shove a plate of something in front of her. "Eat."

Clara eyed the sludge-like meal with a critical gaze. "What is this?"

"Food," he snapped.

She poked at it with a spoon, watching the entire thing jiggle ominously. "I think it just moved."

"It did not."

"I swear it blinked at me."

"Eat it."

Clara sighed, taking a slow bite, then immediately gagged. "You know, for someone who clearly enjoys torturing people, you really need to work on your methods. This is just sad."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could kill you, you know."

"And yet, you don't," Clara pointed out, swirling the spoon in the gruel with an almost casual air. "Because you need me. Which means you're stuck with me."

His fingers twitched, as though resisting the urge to strangle her. "I need information on Seraphine."

Clara's smirk vanished. "Then you're wasting your time."

For the first time since this ridiculous interrogation had started, there was no humor in her voice.

No teasing, no goading. Just a cold, unshakable resolve that even Captain Smugface couldn't ignore.

He studied her for a long moment, then scoffed. "You act like you're so strong. Like nothing can get to you."

Clara rolled her shoulders, letting her chains rattle. "That's because you can't get to me."

"We'll see about that."

The next few hours were more of the same. Smugface tried different angles—manipulation, threats, mock sympathy, but Clara met him at every turn with unwavering stubbornness. She could see the frustration bubbling just beneath his carefully crafted exterior, and oh, how she relished it.

At one point, he pulled a chair closer, leaning in with an expression that might've been unsettling if she weren't already beyond caring. "You think Seraphine's coming for you?" he mused. "She's probably already forgotten about you."

Clara snorted. "You clearly don't know Seraphine."

"Oh, but I do," he countered, smirking. "And I know she doesn't have the power to stop what's coming."

Something in his tone made Clara's stomach twist, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she let out an exaggerated sigh. "You keep saying all these ominous things, but you never actually get to the point. Do you practice being cryptic, or does it just come naturally?"

He was so close to snapping, she could feel it.

"I could break you," he said, voice dark. "I could make this so much worse."

Clara tilted her head, pretending to think. "You could try. But see, here's the thing—you haven't, because deep down, you know I'm not going to talk. So really, this whole thing? Just you wasting both of our time."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

Then, to Clara's immense satisfaction, Captain Smugface stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. "You're impossible."

Clara flashed him a bright, obnoxious grin. "Thanks, I try."

With a sharp glare, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the cell, slamming the door shut behind him.

Alone again, Clara let out a breath, rolling her shoulders. She knew this game wouldn't last forever. Eventually, he would stop playing. And when that happened… she needed to be ready.

But for now? For now, she'd take the small victory of knowing she had completely, utterly ruined that man's day.

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