“The Erasers,” Charlie began, his tone dark and deliberate. “As their name implies, they ‘erase.’ They eliminate, delete, and undo—completely and without trace. To some people here, they’re more of a legend because no one who’s encountered them has ever lived to share the story. Unlike the R.I.s, who are identifiable by the gemstones they wear, the Erasers are entirely anonymous. They could be anyone—maybe even someone standing right next to you.”

A shiver ran down my spine at his words. “That’s... unsettling,” I murmured, glancing around nervously for any suspicious faces. All I saw was Charlie, his smile calm yet cryptic. It left me questioning whether he was being serious or just playing with me.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Yes, Aria, I’m serious,” he replied, his expression unwavering.

Still uneasy, I pressed further. “Then how can someone recognize an R.I.?”

Charlie’s demeanor shifted slightly as he leaned forward. “R.I.s are ranked based on their abilities and skills to enforce the rules. They’re easy to identify if you know what to look for—the gemstones they wear. But not just any gemstone. Specifically, Blue Topaz, Turquoise, and Aquamarine. Blue Topaz is a deep, dark blue. Turquoise has a greenish-blue hue. And Aquamarine is a light, almost transparent blue.”

He paused, his gaze steady. “Here’s what you need to remember: the lighter the gemstone, the higher the R.I.’s rank and skill level. The paler the stone, the more dangerous they are.”

His explanation felt both meticulous and foreboding, leaving me to wonder how many such gemstones I might unknowingly pass by on this island.

“Do Erasers and R.I.s kill and torture as part of their job?” I asked, my voice tinged with apprehension.

“Yeah, they do,” Charlie replied casually, as though discussing something as mundane as the weather.

The nonchalance in his tone made me shudder. “Then what’s the difference between them?” I pressed.

Charlie leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “R.I.s only take action when someone breaks the rules. They’re enforcers, ensuring order. But Erasers…” He paused, glancing around cautiously before continuing. “Erasers are a different story. They’re hired by people who can afford their services, and their methods? Far more brutal than anything the R.I.s would ever do.”

I was so engrossed in his words that I nearly jumped out of my skin when Charlie suddenly clapped his hands.

“Charlie, stop it!” I snapped, my heart racing.

He laughed, clearly amused. “Hahaha, your face was priceless! Sorry, sorry,” he said, still grinning.

Rolling my eyes, I decided to seek clarity. “In all seriousness, Charlie, can anyone become an Eraser?”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Not just anyone. Erasers belong to a clan—like professional assassins for hire. But don’t mistake them for honorable warriors or anything. People say they’re more like monsters, insane and cruel.”

I frowned, trying to piece it all together. “So, people know about them?”

Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe people in Zone 1 or Zone 2 have more idea. But here? You won’t find any concrete information. No one sees them, and no one dares to cross the red border line. If I had to guess, though, they’re likely hiding somewhere in the uncharted areas—deep in the forests or mountains between the zones.”

His words painted a chilling picture, leaving me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

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Something Charlie had said earlier nagged at me, and I decided to voice my thoughts. “Hey, Charlie, you mentioned earlier that Erasers could be anyone here. Does that mean they can also cross the borders, like the Characters?”

“Yep, they can,” Charlie replied without hesitation. “How else could they carry out their missions?”

The idea unsettled me. “So, how can a resident protect themselves from an Eraser?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

“Through the R.I.s,” Charlie answered curtly.

That answer didn’t sit right with me. It seemed to contradict what he’d said earlier about the R.I.s’ roles. “But you said the R.I.s don’t protect residents. How does that work?”

Charlie leaned back, considering his response. “You’re right—they don’t actively protect residents in the way you’re thinking. R.I.s act solely based on the rules. But here’s the catch: the rules explicitly state that an R.I. can take action against an Eraser if they identify someone as one. So, while their primary job isn’t protection, the system indirectly offers residents some security. The Erasers may be able to cross borders, but they’re not above the rules. If they’re exposed, the R.I.s will act.”

I nodded, still piecing it all together. “So, the R.I.s are essentially a deterrent for the Erasers, like a built-in defense mechanism?”

“Exactly,” Charlie said, a glint in his eye. “It’s a bit of a game, isn’t it? The R.I.s are trained to sniff out Erasers, and while Erasers are dangerous, they’d be foolish to underestimate the R.I.s. As they are trained to find them, to root them out. And when they do... let’s just say it doesn’t end well for the Erasers. It’s like a fight between two well-trained dogs—brutal, but neither side is invincible.”

Charlie’s grin widened, almost as if he found the entire scenario thrilling. It left me wondering just what kind of twisted dynamics this is.

“Then is it the same for the R.I.s? Can they cross borders like the Erasers?” I asked, another question flashing through my mind.

“Oh no, Aria,” Charlie replied with a shake of his head. “Unfortunately, they can’t. That’s where the Erasers have a significant advantage. I think the Rule Makers designed it that way to limit movement between zones. It’s all about maintaining control.”

Another thought struck me, and I couldn’t resist asking, though I tried to sound casual. "Charlie, earlier you mentioned the basic rules for foreigners like me—how we’re restricted to one designated zone. So, if someone were to disobey that rule, who gets to... you know... handle the situation? Just curious, not that I’m planning anything, of course," I added with an awkward chuckle.

Charlie’s gaze sharpened slightly, and his smile shifted to something more serious—almost warning. “Well, that depends. If you’re caught just about to cross the border but haven’t actually done it yet, an R.I. might step in. Whether they act or not depends on their judgment at the time. But if you’ve crossed the border and are outside the allowed zone... that’s when it gets dangerous. An Eraser might take the opportunity to kill the rule-breaker, sometimes just for sport. I really hope you’re not planning to test those limits, Aria.”

His tone carried a weight that made the warning unmistakable, and the intensity in his eyes made my stomach churn. It was clear this wasn’t something to joke about.

I immediately responded, "Of course not! I have plans for my future, you know. I want to marry a handsome, hardworking man like my father, make love with him every day, have a lot of babies, and..." My words trailed off as I noticed Charlie blinking at me, his expression somewhere between amused and surprised.

My face burned as I realized what I’d just blurted out. Oh no, I’m insane, I thought, quickly I slapped a hand over my mouth. What did I just say?! I thought, cringing internally. I’d meant to defend myself, but instead, I’d managed to spill my most personal dreams in the most awkward way possible.

Charlie, of course, found my embarrassment hilarious. He chuckled, his laughter threatening to turn into a full-blown fit, drawing a few curious glances from others in the library. Mortified, I motioned for him to lower his voice. "Charlie, shush! We’re in the library!" I whispered urgently, bowing my head apologetically to the people now glancing our way.

"Aria, Aria," Charlie said, shaking his head, his grin wide and mischievous. "I never imagined you were this... passionate. It’s wild, you know? But I have to admit—it’s kind of adorable. Sharing all that must mean we’re getting pretty close, huh?" His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of something genuine in his expression.

I felt my cheeks flush, my heart racing against my will. No, Aria, snap out of it, I scolded myself. Sure, Charlie is charming and undeniably handsome, but you’ve already got Jared, remember? Jared. Focus on Jared. Jared, Jared, Jared.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to regain some composure. Glancing at my wristwatch, I noted the time—10:15 a.m. Then I checked my phone, only to confirm once again that there was no signal.

Another question surfaced in my mind, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to upset Charlie, especially when the topic might be sensitive. Still, my curiosity gets me, so I decided to proceed with caution.

"Charlie," I began carefully, my voice low, "I don’t mean to be rude or disrespectful or hurt your feelings, but I need to ask you something."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression patient. "What is it, Aria?"

Taking a deep breath, I asked, "If there are R.I.s and Erasers who enforce the rules so strictly, how were others besides your mom able to cross the borders back then?"

Charlie's smile disappeared, replaced by a more serious expression. He didn’t seem angry, just solemn—like he was stepping into a memory he didn’t often revisit. "It’s because, aside from my mom being a Character," he began, "she also had something unique—a map handed down from her father. When he was alive, he was a Character, which meant he had the privilege of crossing zones. During his time, he meticulously mapped out areas that were unknown or rarely traveled."

He paused, his gaze distant. "That map gave my mom an edge, a way to move undetected. She used it to sneak out my father and the first batch of Zone 2 residents. But when others discovered she was using it, the route was no longer a secret. And that’s one of the reasons the tragedy happened."

Charlie’s voice softened as he gave me a sad smile, trying to show he’d come to terms with the past. Yet, the pain in his eyes was unmistakable—some wounds never truly heal.

“Do you still have the map?” I asked, unable to hold back.

“It was burned, along with our house, before the Inn was built,” Charlie replied. “The soldiers made sure it wouldn’t be used again.”

As I listened to Charlie, my eyes drifted to the table, but the word "soldiers" lingered in my thoughts. An island with no government, yet it had soldiers? The thought didn’t sit well—it felt strange and out of place.