Arthur stood before Solivair, meeting his gaze head-on. His back was straight, his posture relaxed, his expression composed. There was not a single trace of fear in his eyes, as if he wasn’t even remotely concerned about his own safety. In reality, Arthur knew that worrying wouldn’t do him any good. Rather than panicking, it was better to stay calm and think clearly. Keeping a level head was the best way to strategize. He casually spread his hands. "Coming here myself is better than being dragged here by force, don’t you think?" Technically, the way he arrived wasn’t much different from being kidnapped. But at least this way, he was prepared—he wasn’t completely at their mercy. Solivair suddenly burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Smart kid, you’re quick to figure things out." Such an interesting young man. He almost felt reluctant to kill him. Solivair walked to the luxurious sofa and gestured lazily. "Sit wherever you like." His tone was so casual, as if he were welcoming an old friend rather than confronting someone he could have easily disposed of. Arthur didn’t hesitate. He sat down at a comfortable distance—not too close, not too far. Just enough to show that he was neither intimidated nor foolishly overconfident. Solivair picked up a porcelain teapot and poured Arthur a cup of steaming hot tea. "Try this. It’s a rare blend I’ve kept for years." Arthur accepted the cup and lifted it to his nose, inhaling the rich aroma. With a genuine nod of appreciation, he said, "This is truly high-quality tea." Then, without hesitation, he took a sip.Solivair chuckled, watching him with interest. "You’re not even the slightest bit worried that I might have poisoned it?" Arthur didn’t pause. He simply smiled and continued drinking. "If you really wanted me dead, you wouldn’t need poison." Solivair let out another hearty laugh. "Hahaha! Not bad. If you were just some clueless kid, I might’ve considered bringing you under my wing." But unfortunately… Solivair didn’t finish his sentence. There was no need—Arthur already understood what he meant. Arthur didn’t react. He had zero interest in working under Solivair. There was no point in entertaining the idea. Setting his teacup down, Arthur got straight to the point. "I have information on Lynn." The air in the room shifted instantly. The entire villa fell into silence. Solivair narrowed his eyes. He had been waiting for Arthur to speak. But instead of responding, he simply waited, letting Arthur continue. Arthur wasn’t in a rush either. After a short pause, he added, "But I have a condition." At this, Solivair almost laughed out loud again. He smirked, leaning back against the couch. "Arthur, do you really think you’re in any position to negotiate with me?"His tone was condescending, his gaze filled with undisguised amusement. He was looking at Arthur the way a hunter looked at trapped prey. Arthur was nothing more than a young upstart—bold, sure, but ultimately powerless in Solivair’s world. Arthur expected this response. He chuckled softly and shrugged. "Either way, I’m dead. Whether I tell you or not, you could kill me just the same. So why shouldn’t I try to make the most of the situation?" His voice was casual, as if they were discussing the weather rather than a matter of life and death. Solivair studied him carefully. Gone was the earlier amusement. Arthur’s words had wiped the smirk off his face. Solivair’s voice lowered. "A worthless life?" Then, his lips curled into something more sinister. "Even if you don’t care about yourself… What about your fiancée? What about the Gibson family? Are their lives just as worthless?" His tone was light, but his eyes gleamed with cruel intent. Arthur knew exactly what he was doing. Solivair had done his research. He knew about Arthur’s relationship with Ashley. He knew about the Gibson family’s kindness toward Arthur. He was baiting him. Solivair wanted to see Arthur crack. He wanted to see the moment Arthur panicked, the moment he showed fear. That would be fun. Arthur’s hand clenched under the table.But outwardly, he remained perfectly calm. He had expected this. From the moment he stepped out of his university’s gates, he had known what he was walking into. He forced himself to breathe evenly, to keep his expression neutral. He couldn’t afford to show even the slightest weakness. If he did—he would lose this game before it even began.