Ethan was greeting today's guests in his sanctuary.

For Ethan, the Kingdom Art Center was his sanctuary today, his Art Sanctuary.

The first floor of the art center had been completely cleared, displaying Ethan's works.

Outside was a crowd of eager spectators.

The journey to the art center could truly be described as treacherous.

If it hadn't been for the police clearing the way in advance, Ethan wouldn't have been able to get in.

Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of Ethan's face, to see what the young man who recently stirred up a storm in the Royal Capital actually looked like.

But Ethan ultimately didn't give them this opportunity.

By the time he arrived at the art center, it was already past nine. He tidied up his attire, and everything was ready.

The first wave of guests were naturally the most heavyweight, including Andy, the president of the Kingdom Art Association, along with a group of bigwigs in the circle.

Most of them were people Ethan had seen in the Mirror Corridor before, so today wasn't all that unfamiliar.

After a brief greeting with them, naturally, the waiters led them to the adjacent café where there were simple refreshments, fruits, and grape juice.

For such large exhibitions, the amenities are certainly top-notch.

The next arrivals were some high-ranking dignitaries; Ethan didn't know many of them, but Jackson was familiar and introduced them to Ethan one by one.

In fact, if you carefully observe the atmosphere on site, you'll find that everyone seems a bit absent-minded.

Even for the nobles of this class, their greater interest today wasn't Ethan's paintings.

The public quarrel over the past two days had turned so heated that no one wasn't eagerly anticipating the outcome.

Even those who live in privilege can't resist a bit of gossip.

Or perhaps, the more privileged someone is, the more they enjoy such things.

After welcoming a few more waves of guests, some commotion and noise finally arose outside, and the people in the art center were instantly excited.

Is it about to start?

Rubins?

The result was slightly disappointing; the person who arrived was Pupol.

Pupol certainly counted as a national idol—his fame extended beyond the art circle, and many in the public adored him.

As Pupol walked into the art center and saw everyone's slightly disappointed expression, he couldn't help but joke, "Looks like I'm not very welcome here, huh?"

Indeed, he understood well enough what the main attraction of today was.

Therefore, before Rubins arrived, everyone seemed to lose the desire to even preview the artworks.

Time moved to ten o'clock.

The noise outside suddenly grew louder, almost becoming a roar.

Rubins had finally arrived.

Rubins wasn't so famous before; he was more popular within the circle, but not as well-known outside it.

So, one could say that he gained fame through this public quarrel.

Therefore, today, a winner must be decided.

Rubins enjoyed this feeling, being the center of attention. For a fleeting moment, he felt like he had Pupol's kind of influence.

For a painter, not to envy Pupol is impossible.

So Rubins walked slowly, greeting the public outside as he went, even having time to sign autographs.

It wasn't until ten-thirty that he finally arrived at the art center.

Of course, he wasn't alone.

He brought a very luxurious team with him.

Half of the Royal Capital's art critique circle came, including many well-known artists, some even traveling from other places.

They all followed behind Rubins, looking almost like an army.

This scene was undoubtedly captured on camera.

And Ethan stood alone inside the door to greet them, seeming rather solitary with a hint of one man against the world.

In any case, the showdown officially began.

——————————————

Meanwhile.

In the dark sanctuary.

Vasini was already seated in his assigned main seat at the end of the long table, overlooking everyone who arrived.

Almost everyone was present today.

Saying "almost everyone" meant that someone still hadn't come.

The absentee was the leader of the Hoffman Clan. The Hoffman Clan belonged to the New Continent Mafia and wasn't part of the pure Fengcui Green Mafia domain.

Years ago, they joined and rose in the Mafia's wave.

Over the years, they've been striving to clean their reputation and do business.

Recently, the South District became chaotic, and upon seeing the Mafia's continued retreat, the Hoffman Clan quickly had a change of heart, skipping previous meetings under excuses.

This time, they didn't even bother pretending—they've defected. The leader of the Hoffman Clan probably surrendered to Uttahan days ago.

Everyone present was already aware of this.

So the atmosphere seemed exceptionally oppressive.

Because Vasini had already made harsh remarks, the Hoffman Clan's choice equated to slapping him in the face.

This meant they didn't trust Vasini's capability.

Even though he had already driven back and severely injured Luca once.

They still thought he couldn't do it.

Even though most of them today chose to attend this meeting.

In essence, it was a compromise, giving Vasini face, lest he goes insane again.

But they absolutely couldn't fathom what Vasini would do next?

"What will he do?"

Luca asked behind the bar counter of a pub.

This was Uttahan's headquarters, a pub located deep in a dark alley that emitted a strong damp stench on rainy days.

But Luca liked it.

Because this was his first lodging point after arriving in the Royal Capital.

And it's dark enough.

He certainly knew Vasini was holding a family meeting today because Henry, the leader of the Hoffman Clan, was sitting directly opposite him.

Henry appeared somewhat uncomfortable, mainly because the smell here was too unpleasant. He could hardly imagine how people drank in such places, let alone lived.

He wanted to use a handkerchief to cover his nose but feared angering Luca on the opposite side, so he could only endure it, forcing a hard smile and saying, "Don't worry about what he'll do. He won't do anything. Vasini, that guy, I watched him grow up. He's not someone with real guts. Last time was the end of his courage; he won't take any more action."

"Really?"

Luca glanced at his empty left hand; his left hand had forever been left in the gutter that day.

"Of course. Otherwise, they wouldn't be in this situation today. By the way, Luca, about the business you mentioned earlier..."

Henry came today not only to fully defect but also for the business.

Who knows where this alley's rat linked up with upper-class connections. He even had contacts with the commerce department. If the Hoffman Clan could latch onto this line, they could truly clean up their act in the future.

"Don't worry, what I've promised you, I'll definitely do."

Luca still felt uneasy. He had to do something, so he stood up.

"I told you not to worry about him," Henry muttered, indifferent.

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