The Poet's System

Chapter 23: Every Struggle

Chapter 23 - Every StruggleDaylan had nearly read all the books in the library in just five days, but his sleep schedule had never been more erratic.

The day before, his mother and Zira had come to visit, just as he'd hoped. They enjoyed some rare family time together, but his mother seemed more enthusiastic than usual. Daylan could tell she was simply relieved that their debt had been paid off, but her unprovoked laughter and constant patting of his shoulder felt a little odd. He shrugged it off for the moment, considering it a side of his mother he hadn't seen before.

Upon their arrival, Daylan learned that Zira would be taking her Luck Trial soon. Not wanting his sister to end up like he did, he decided to make a note of everything he had learned about the Luck Trial, summarize it in simpler terms for her twelve-year-old mind, and trim down the details to help her prepare for what she might face in her trial.

The afternoon felt warmer than usual. Daylan sat in his seat at the library, relaxing his muscles after all the workouts he'd been doing, as he wrote what he could to help Zira prepare for her trial.

Astara and Medora walked in and took their seats. With just one glance, Daylan could tell they had something important to say.

"Is there anything you want me to know?" He glanced at their faces.

Medora turned to him. "Yeah... I think I've found something about the men in black."

Daylan's interest was piqued. He leaned forward. "Okay, what's it?"

"Well, I spoke to a few adventurers yesterday. I described the men in black and their cloaks. If one of them was right, then these men might be the same as the Anti-Diviners—just under different leadership and jurisdiction."

Daylan listened attentively.

She continued. "The man told me about a place called The Coffee Shop, a centuries-old café located in the center of the city. According to him, there are certain catchphrases you can use there that'll get you directed to a secret room."

Medora folded her arms across her chest, her tone edged with caution. "He didn't have any solid evidence, but he claimed a friend of his once went there for potions that supposedly boosted strength—like the one Enyo used that turned him into a ghoul. Now, his friend is missing, and he says they forced him into their cult..."

She shrugged her shoulders. "But honestly, it's hard to trust that story. He was drunk when he told it."

Daylan repeatedly tapped his chin with a finger. "A café and a catchphrase, huh? And Enzo and Enyo... Anti-Diviners too."

Astara cleared her throat, her hands resting on the desk. "But there's more—and it might be devastating for you to hear."

Daylan turned to Astara as Medora clenched her fists.

"Go on... what's it?"

She took a deep breath. "When Medora told me about it, I decided to use The Coffee Shop as the focus of my questions instead of the men in black. It didn't take long before I found someone who knew something. I actually got this information yesterday, but I didn't bring it up since your family was around."

Daylan could see it clearly—her expression made it obvious. Whatever she was about to say felt too heavy to put into words.

She steadied her tone. "The Coffee Shop has earned quite a reputation deep within the city—the northern district. People around there are afraid of it—they say it doesn't serve coffee to ordinary customers, and those who go in and don't belong... never come back. Medora confirmed it too."

Medora gave a gentle nod.

"They've had several cases reported by people whose loved ones went missing after entering the shop. But with no solid evidence to link the place to the disappearances, those cases remain unsolved to this day."

She sighed, and Daylan's eyes locked onto hers. "The Coffee Shop was owned by your grandfather, Albert Rhys. That's where your father worked—until he met your mother and decided to move to this part of the city."

Daylan's expression darkened. "Are you saying my own family wants me dead?"

Medora quickly shook her hands. "That's where things get complicated." She began rubbing one hand against the other. "You see...Your grandfather died five years before your father did. The shop was actually owned by your father, though he never ran it himself.

And when he passed, that's when you inherited his debts—debts tied to The Coffee Shop."

Astara seized the moment as Daylan turned to her, his heart pounding harder with each passing second.

"The worst part is how they died... Your grandfather passed from old age at 85. A funeral was held, and there are certificates confirming both his death and burial.

But your father... there's nothing. No records, no confirmed cause of death. People just believe he died—and everyone's been going along with it ever since."

Daylan rose to his feet, massaging his head as he paced back and forth. He didn't remember much about his father's death—but he knew it had always been a sensitive topic for his mother.

He shook his head, trying to steady his thoughts. If his father were alive—and wanted him dead—then he wasn't someone worth caring about.

He took a deep breath, calming his senses with a quick exercise before sitting back down—ready for a clearer conversation.

"So now The Coffee Shop can't be ignored, can it? ...And just like I felt before—the person who wanted me dead knew me too well. It had to be someone close."

His gaze narrowed. "My father could be alive—and might actually want me dead. If that's true, then he abandoned us for his own gain... and maybe even wants me gone for some twisted ritual. Humans never change, do they?"

"What must we do now?" Astara leaned into her seat, taking a relaxed posture.

"To be honest, this really hurts, and I can't think straight right now. But one thing's certain—we need to observe from a distance, at least for now."

His voice turned sharp, precise. "I think I can get us the catchphrase to access the secret room. But like you said—they have potions like the one Enyo used, which means they could have demonic strength. That's not something I can handle right now... and I don't think you can either."

They gave him a firm nod.

Without a word, Daylan rose to his feet, grabbed a book, and headed to his room.

As soon as he reached his room, he threw himself onto the bed. He was hurt—he knew that much—but he barely knew enough about his father to justify the pain. In truth, he couldn't even remember what the man looked like.

His mind raced from thought to thought,

"The Illusion Training Hall."