For the guardian of Lioran, granting a favor like this was nothing more than a trivial gesture. Arthur sat at the head of the room, and Finley was tossed before him like a piece of trash. Without wasting words, Arthur spoke coldly. “Talk. Where are the Gibson family, Mr. Hugo, and the principal?” Finley still didn’t understand the full extent of Arthur’s backing. In his mind, his father Solivair was still the most powerful man in all of Lioran. He forced a crooked smile and raised one finger, aiming it right at Arthur with a mocking sneer. “Arthur, just wait until my dad gets back. Let’s see if you can still act this arrogant then.” Arthur’s eyes ignited with fury. In the blink of an eye, a small knife shot from his side. A flash of silver, and blood sprayed into the air. Finley’s raised finger dropped to the floor, cleanly severed. “Aaaaagh!!!” His scream tore through the air. Clutching his bleeding hand, Finley howled in agony as blood gushed from the stump. He could hardly believe it—Arthur had actually cut off his finger without hesitation! The scene stunned not only Finley, but Taylor and Ashley as well. In a world ruled by law, seeing someone’s finger chopped off like this, without warning, was beyond jarring. But once they remembered that this man had kidnapped the Gibson family, Mr. Hugo, and the principal, it no longer felt like Arthur had overreacted. Wind, on the other hand, watched with a flicker of admiration in his eyes. Decisive and ruthless—just like the grandson of the chairman should be. With that kind of resolve, Heaven’s Cult would only grow stronger under his leadership. Arthur gave Finley no time to breathe. His voice turned colder. “Where are they?”Finley was already on the edge of madness. He’d had his teeth knocked out earlier, been thrown around like a ragdoll, and now—his finger was gone. Blinded by rage, he snapped. He lunged at Arthur like a wild animal, ready to fight to the death. But before he could even get close, Wind stepped in. With a single, brutal kick, he sent Finley flying. He hit the ground hard and coughed up several mouthfuls of blood. Still, Arthur showed no mercy. He signaled for Finley to be dragged back in front of him. His voice, now icy and hollow, echoed through the room. Arthur drew a large, gleaming blade and walked toward Finley. He laid the blade across Finley’s other hand, ready to strike. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where are they?” Finley was dazed, barely conscious. But he could see the blade, inches from his skin, glinting under the light. His instincts screamed. He tried to pull his hand away, but Arthur stomped it down without hesitation. A cry tore from Finley’s throat. The pain cleared his mind instantly. He was terrified. Spoiled and pampered his whole life, he had never faced anything like this. He had always been the one dishing out pain—not the one on the receiving end. His body shook. Everything hurt. But none of that mattered now. Arthur was insane. And in Arthur’s eyes, he saw it clearly—killing intent.Terrified and broken, Finley stammered, “I... I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” Only then did Arthur lift his foot. Finley scrambled to pull his hand back. It was numb. The fingers were limp. Only his palm still throbbed with pain. But he didn’t dare hesitate. Through trembling lips, he gave the address. Though he had caved on the outside, his eyes still burned with hatred. Once his father returned, he would make Arthur pay—no matter what. Wind took down the address immediately and began dispatching his men. Before leaving, he turned and delivered a final warning. “If I find out you lied, the Tremo family will disappear from this world.” Finley froze. There was no doubt in his mind—Wind wasn’t bluffing. He was suddenly grateful he’d told the truth. Because if he hadn’t, he knew what would’ve followed wouldn’t be pain. It would be annihilation. The only reason Finley gave up the location was because Arthur had returned. Otherwise, he never would have spoken.