Ashley and the Gibson family were the people Arthur cared about most. He could throw away his own life, but he could not let anything happen to them. Hearing their names from Solivair’s mouth—it took everything in him to suppress his emotions. He leaned back against the couch, using the motion to disguise the faint tremor in his hands. Then, he smiled—light, casual, as if they were simply discussing everyday matters. "They are indeed people I care about." Solivair’s lips curled. Of course. Everyone had a weakness. And Arthur’s was painfully obvious. What was the point in pretending to be calm? But before he could say anything, Arthur continued. "But people die eventually. Whether it’s sooner or later, death comes for us all. There’s no point in obsessing over it. As long as we cherish the time we have while we’re alive, that’s enough. You just have to learn to accept it." Arthur even leaned forward slightly and patted Solivair’s hand, as if he was the one comforting him. Solivair was momentarily speechless. This brat… Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "So you don’t care whether they live or die?" Arthur’s expression didn’t waver. His tone remained calm, as if he were having a casual chat. "Of course I care. They’ve treated me well. But I’ve learned to see things clearly. The Gibson family sees it the same way." Silence. Solivair studied Arthur, searching for any trace of weakness. Any flicker of hesitation, any crack in the mask. But there was nothing.Not a single sign of fear. Finally, Solivair scoffed. "You’re good at putting on an act, I’ll give you that." Under the table, Arthur’s hands clenched. Did he see through me? His mind raced. He glanced at Solivair—just for a fraction of a second. And in that moment, he caught it. The briefest flicker in Solivair’s gaze. A flash of probing curiosity. Arthur steadied himself. No. He wasn’t completely exposed yet. Solivair was testing him. He couldn’t afford to slip up now. Keeping his tone light, Arthur shrugged. "What’s there to act about? I came here fully prepared to die." Solivair’s gaze darkened. "You’re not afraid of death?" The air in the room grew heavier, but Arthur forced himself to exhale slowly. Then, as if lost in thought, he let out a long sigh. His face turned pensive, as though he were simply sharing a deep personal reflection. "Mr. Solivair, maybe you don’t know this, but I grew up facing constant abuse. Even after I escaped, I had to fight tooth and nail just to survive. Every day, I had to push myself. Every decision had to be perfect. I couldn’t afford a single mistake—because one wrong step, and I’d be crushed beneath my enemies." Arthur turned to look directly at Solivair. "You must understand that feeling." Solivair’s pupils shrank.That feeling… Yes. He understood it all too well. From the moment he could remember, his life had been a brutal competition. One moment of carelessness, one lapse in judgment, and he would be eliminated. When he was seven, he had made that mistake. A single misstep—he had fallen into a trap his older cousin had laid for him. That one mistake had nearly cost him everything. His family’s trust. His place in the household. If he had been cast out back then, he wouldn’t be standing here today. The memory burned in his mind. After that, he had vowed—he would never let his guard down again. Not even in sleep. Even now, after all these years, he still couldn’t truly rest. Every night, he lay awake, eyes open, alert for threats. He never allowed himself the luxury of deep sleep. He had been forced to rely on medication before—but even that had its risks. And because of it, his body had suffered. He had long since developed chronic health issues. Arthur’s words had struck a nerve. His grip on the armrest tightened. Arthur had been watching closely. And he saw it. He saw the faint flicker of something in Solivair’s expression. A moment of unease.Arthur had gambled. And he had won. Suppressing the relief surging through him, Arthur kept his tone solemn. "Tell me, Mr. Solivair. Why do we live like this? Why must we endure this kind of suffering? I’ve often wondered… Why do we even bother living? If death means peace, then maybe it’s better that way. We’re all going to die anyway. Isn’t that right?" Arthur’s voice carried a hint of melancholy. But only he knew the truth. He had no intention of dying. He had Ashley. He had people who loved him. He would survive. And he would find a way to walk out of this alive.