Novels by Day Lily

Inside his coat pocket, Ethan's fingers unconsciously brushed against the hard edge of the object he had found last night. The metal piece felt cold, a stark contrast to his increasingly sweaty palm.The police were looking for him. The man in the gray suit was hunting him. And the man in the fedora—that stranger who had suddenly appeared in the café—seemed to know everything about a past he couldn't even remember.He was trapped in a circle that was rapidly closing in.Ethan took a deep breath, trying to banish the rising panic creeping into his chest. He turned around, letting the crowd behind him slowly be swallowed by distance. Tonight, he wouldn't go home via the main road.His steps led him through narrower, darker alleys, avoiding the buzzing, faint streetlights. His own shadow stretched out long against the wet pavement.His mind kept looping back to the last sentence the fedora-wearing man had said.*Tomorrow morning, at seven. Blackridge Old Library.*The place had been aban

Ethan stood his ground. The sentence hung in the air, brief but enough to make his entire body tense up. He tried to remember if he had ever met the man in the gray suit before, but the face was completely foreign. What unsettled him wasn't his appearance, but the conviction in his gaze. The man looked at Ethan like someone who had finally succeeded in finding an item long lost.The man in the fedora folded his hands on the table. His face remained calm, but his eyes grew significantly sharper."You shouldn't have come here," he said.The man in the gray suit smiled thinly. "And let you take him away?""I'm not taking anyone.""You know what I mean."Their conversation sounded like a riddle. No names were mentioned, no clear explanations given. Yet, every sentence made Ethan increasingly certain that he was the reason this meeting was taking place.Another waiter passed by, carrying a tray with three cups of hot coffee. He excused himself with a friendly smile toward the two men. Ther

Ethan’s heart hammered against his ribs. By reflex, he looked up. The man beside the black sedan was still standing in the same spot. Their gazes met for a few seconds before the man got into the car and drove away calmly, as if nothing had happened.Ethan kept watching the street, which was beginning to bustle with activity. Once the car disappeared around the corner, he pressed the call button for that sender’s number.The call was disconnected instantly.He tried once more. The result was the same."The number is unavailable."The automated voice made the knot of anxiety in his chest tighten further."What are you doing?"A voice from behind made Ethan nearly drop his phone. He turned quickly. Professor Harrison was standing there, carrying several folders. "You look quite pale.""It's nothing, Prof," Ethan answered softly.The professor looked at him suspiciously but didn't press further. He just gave Ethan’s shoulder a brief pat before walking toward the administration building.

The alarm on the table rang at exactly six o’clock. Ethan turned it off before the sound could wake anyone else. His head felt heavy; he had barely slept all night. The words from the mysterious letter kept spinning in his mind, mixed with the image of the old man cornered in the narrow alley and the four men in black who had pursued him.He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed his face, and glanced at his study desk. The iron box was still there.For a moment, he hesitated. He had a strange feeling that once he opened the box again, his life would never be the same. Yet, curiosity won out. He pulled the drawer open and opened the box.The old childhood photo was still there. The metal disc was there, too.But... the letter was gone.Ethan froze. He took out everything in the box, one by one. Nothing. He checked the entire contents of the drawer, even tearing through his college bag and the jacket hanging behind the door. Still, it was nowhere to be found."Impossible..." he muttered.H

Ethan had never liked trouble, especially trouble involving strangers. During his years in Blackridge, he had learned one fundamental rule: the less you meddle in other people's affairs, the greater your chances of returning home with your life intact. This city was not as pretty as a postcard. Behind the facade of Victorian-era buildings and dim streetlights, there were always dark alleys where dirty business was settled without witnesses.That was the reason why, upon seeing four men in black suits cornering the old man he had met at campus earlier, his first instinct was to turn around and walk quickly in the opposite direction.But his feet felt as if they were nailed to the wet sidewalk.The old man was still standing, one hand pressed against his stomach. His breathing was short, labored. The rain pouring from the sky drenched his black coat, making the red stain seeping through his shirt look even more contrasting and dark. The man's gaze was no longer fixed on his pursuers; he

The sheets of paper danced in the air before scattering in all directions. Some fell helplessly onto the faculty courtyard, a few snagged in the bushes, while the rest were chased by the wind toward the path connecting the lecture hall to the campus garden. Students passing by merely glanced at them, indifferent, before returning to their own busy lives. Not one stopped to offer a hand.Ethan stared at his notebook, now left with only a few stray pages in its binding. He recognized every one of those flying sheets. Over the last semester, he had hand-written every single one. He had compiled every formula, analysis, and thought that the professors had failed to explain in class—the result of hours spent in the library. To Ethan, it wasn't just a summary; it was the roadmap to his future.Kevin patted his shoulder lightly, a gesture that felt more like an insult than an apology. "If you were quick enough, maybe you could still catch them."Laughter from Kevin and his two friends erupte