Chapter 03 (Healer)

James managed to ignore his annoying party members for the remaining time, instead focusing his frustration on the alien creatures that kept zapping him. Each painful jolt provided an opportunity to heal himself, allowing him to refine his skill. He hadn’t learned anything particularly new, but it was a good way to pass the time. Besides, practice was always beneficial—especially when it came to training his pain resistance. Better to hone it in a controlled environment than in the dangerous depths of the Tower, where a single wrong decision could mean death.

Despite his efforts, he hadn't yet unlocked the first upgrade for his healing ability. Still, casting the spell felt increasingly natural, and maintaining it required less effort. The biggest drawback, however, was that he couldn’t move while using it. That single weakness could prove fatal. For now, it wasn’t an issue—early-stage assassins wouldn’t have movement abilities that allowed them to close the gap instantly—but he knew that would change in the later levels. He’d have to be cautious.

Another pressing concern was his team. He needed to find a way to cooperate with them, but they were painfully incompetent. They had been abducted and forced into a life-or-death situation, yet they were wasting precious time sleeping instead of training. How could they be so relaxed? The thought made his blood boil. His mind wandered to his family—his mother, sister, and brother. He could only hope they had been placed in a more competent team than his own.

Would these fools even share loot fairly? Probably not. They were undoubtedly some of the dumbest people on Earth. The only thing worse would be getting stuck in a party with newborns. That thought made him pause. What had happened to infants or toddlers under two years old? Surely, the aliens wouldn’t throw defenseless children into a survival trial... right?

He shook his head, pushing the distraction aside. The time limit had run out, and the mechanical voice filled the air.

You will be sent to Floor Zero shortly

Please select your outfit and weapon

A new screen materialized before him, displaying various outfit options. He had hoped to trick others into thinking he belonged to a different class by equipping a warrior’s armor or a light vest typically worn by scouts, but the system didn’t allow such customization. Instead, all available robes screamed mage or healer. Worse still, none were practical for stealth. Every design looked like something straight out of Merlin’s wardrobe—flowing garments better suited for an old-world wizard than for a contestant in a high-tech survival game orchestrated by an advanced alien civilization.

He hesitated before selecting a dark green robe with brown patches, the closest thing he could find to military camouflage. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than standing out like a beacon.

From the corner of his eye, he observed his teammates making their choices. Sara, predictably, went for a bright red robe—completely disregarding any sense of tactical advantage. The vivid fabric clashed horribly with her blue hair, making her even more of a walking target. At least she would be drawing attention away from him. She had also selected a wand, which, in his opinion, looked utterly ridiculous—something straight out of Harry Potter. He couldn’t fathom why she would choose such a flimsy weapon when sturdier staffs were available. A full-length staff, at the very least, could double as a melee weapon in close combat.

Rupert, on the other hand, had picked a set of chainmail armor, along with a broad metal shield. The shield was large, though not quite enough to fully obscure his bulky frame. When he held it up, he looked like a character from a cartoon—one of those oversized guys desperately trying to hide behind a comically small object. For a weapon, he had chosen a short axe, which James actually approved of. Axes were versatile—effective in melee combat and throwable if necessary.

Now, it was his turn.

He browsed through the available weapons: short wands, long staffs, short swords, and daggers. He had assumed that, like with the robes, his selection would be limited strictly to magic-related gear. Yet, surprisingly, the system allowed him to pick blades as well. That was interesting.

Before making a decision, he took a moment to analyze the wands’ benefits. Both the small and long variants provided the same bonuses: an increase in mana regeneration and spell power. At their highest tier, they granted a 10% boost to both stats. Not bad, but was it worth sacrificing a weapon he could use in direct combat?

James tapped his fingers against his arm, deep in thought. Every choice here could impact his survival, and he wasn’t about to make the same idiotic mistakes as his teammates.

James wasn’t impressed. Mana consumption wasn’t his main concern right now, considering he only had one skill. He doubted it would become a pressing issue anytime soon. He moved on to analyzing the short swords. Their abilities varied—some could release small gusts of wind to knock enemies back, while others increased their sharpness or even extended in length. The wind ability immediately caught his interest; it was already far more appealing than the passive mana regeneration provided by the wands.
Finally, he skimmed through the available daggers, though he had little intention of picking one.

Assassins would likely favor daggers, and they would almost certainly be faster and stronger than him. Going up against an enemy with better stats in a mirror match-up was a losing battle. However, he still wanted to be informed—knowing what his future attackers might wield was crucial. As he scanned the list, his eyes widened. Some daggers had the same abilities as short swords, increasing their lethality or launching weak gusts of wind. But daggers had far more variety than he had expected.

One dagger could charge itself with lightning, while others were laced with minor poisons. But the one that truly caught his attention was an old, rusted dagger—one so worn down it hardly looked capable of cutting anything. The tip was still sharp, but the rest of the weapon seemed fragile. Its appearance was unimpressive, almost pitiful, yet its effects were extraordinary.

Rustfang Dagger

— Stamina consumption reduced by 10%

— Stamina recovery increased by 10%

Those two perks alone were already fantastic in his eyes, but the true game-changer was its unique ability.

Shadow Step (Uncommon)

While holding or carrying the dagger, the user can momentarily flicker a short distance, moving with an unnatural burst of speed. This movement is not true teleportation but rather an enhanced step that allows the user to evade attacks or reposition quickly. When activated, the user dashes up to 2 meters in any direction, leaving behind a faint afterimage. The movement happens in a blink, making it difficult for enemies to react, though those with sharp eyes can still track the motion.

Compared to the other weapons, this was completely overpowered. Not only did it improve his recovery, but it also granted him a movement ability early on—something invaluable for survival. His decision was immediate. Without hesitation, he selected Rustfang Dagger. A moment later, the weapon materialized on his belt, resting in a timeworn, withered leather scabbard.

His status screen updated, listing Shadow Step under his abilities. Excitement surged through him as he immediately tested it, dashing sideways in an instant. The motion felt exhilarating—one second, he was standing still, and the next, he had blinked across the room.

Meanwhile, his so-called teammates were still chatting, gushing over their choices. Sara was rambling about how much she liked the color of her robe and how pretty her wand was—because that’s exactly what you should be worrying about right now, James thought, rolling his eyes.

They were so caught up in their conversation that they failed to notice their healer rapidly flickering from one side of the room to the other, testing his newfound ability. James smirked. The dagger itself might be useless in direct combat—it wasn’t sharp, and the blade looked fragile enough to snap—but for him, it was already worth it for the movement ability alone.

Even better, Shadow Step wasn’t a one-time-use skill. He could trigger it repeatedly, and with each activation, his next step would be empowered, propelling him forward almost like teleportation. Moving this quickly felt incredible.

Of course, there were limits. The ability consumed mana, which could become a problem in prolonged fights, as he wouldn’t be able to heal as much. Then again, if he was forced to rely on the dagger to escape, he probably wouldn’t have the luxury of healing anyway. The mana cost wasn’t too severe—each activation required seven mana. While he didn’t have an exact timer, he estimated his mana pool could recover fast enough for frequent use.

The only contradiction he noticed was that the dagger boosted stamina, yet its ability only consumed mana. Still, the trade-off was beyond worth it. He had lucked out—far more than he had expected. With Shadow Step, he now had a tool to survive even in the toughest battles. His so-called teammates were unlikely to come to his aid if he got into trouble, so he had to rely on himself.

Even if the blade was dull, it still had a pointed tip. If necessary, he could stab someone in a vital spot—the neck, the eyes. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

More importantly, this weapon could serve another purpose—it could make him more valuable in his teammates’ eyes. Before, they viewed him as dead weight, a healer who would sit in the back and do nothing. But now? Now he could at least pretend to fight alongside them. Maybe, just maybe, they’d start taking him more seriously.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere. He looked up—and sure enough, the two idiots were staring at him. Or rather, at the dagger on his belt.

There was no way they had seen him dashing around just now—he was sure of it. So what was it this time? Were they going to complain about something else? Should he lie and claim he wasn’t actually a healer? No, that wouldn’t work. Everyone could see each other’s roles on the party screen.
"Ey, just how dumb are you?" Ruppert scoffed, his voice laced with both amusement and irritation. "First, you pick healer, and then you don’t even take a staff to boost your abilities. You don’t even grab a decent weapon. No, you go and buy a rusty dagger. Just how useless do you want to be?" He let out a condescending laugh, but there was a seriousness beneath it that James didn’t like.

James barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had already decided he wasn’t a fan of Ruppert, but there was something off about him. Sure, James wasn’t exactly the most social person—probably labeled an outcast by some, given the sheer amount of time he had sunk into video games—but this guy was on a whole different level.

"Everyone knows mages use staffs—or even better, wands," Sara chimed in, her shrill voice grating against his ears. "I’m not letting you drag our party down even more. Give back the dagger and get a staff. Now."

James instinctively checked his status screen, half-wondering if he had just been hit by a mental attack. Nope—his health was full. To his relief, it wasn’t even possible to return the dagger. Not that he would have considered it.

He glanced down at himself, studying the way the outfit fit. He had to admit, it looked a lot better on him than it had on the display. The dark green robe, accented with earthy brown tones, was snug but flexible, allowing him a full range of motion. It blended well with the worn look of Rustfang Dagger, making the weapon seem almost invisible against the fabric. A good choice.

But now, he had a more pressing issue—how to deal with these two morons.

Earlier, he had already decided that trying to reason with them was pointless. But back then, he hadn't possessed Shadow Step. Now, things were different. They only had a few minutes before being thrown onto Floor Zero, and if they really tried something, he was confident he could evade both of them with his new movement skill—even in this small room.

"I can’t give it back," James said calmly, keeping his tone neutral. "And it’s actually a solid choice. Why don’t we share our skills. I’ve got a healing ability—it gradually restores small wounds over time. What about you two?"

It was a diplomatic approach, one he wasn’t particularly hopeful about, but gathering information was crucial. Not for teamwork—he had already written off any real cooperation—but for his own survival. Knowing their abilities would be valuable if he ever had to fight someone similar, whether it be a heavily armored warrior or a fire-wielding mage.

"Of course he can’t give it back," Ruppert muttered, shaking his head. "Next time, you wait until one of us tells you what to pick so something like this doesn’t happen again. Got it?" His tone was filled with irritation, as if James had committed some great offense.

James resisted the urge to laugh. Right. Like I’d let either of you make any decisions for me.
At least the conversation was heading in a somewhat better direction, even if it was still infuriating. He wasn’t about to let these idiots dictate his choices, but they had confirmed something—if they wanted to control his decisions now, they’d try again later. He’d have to be careful.

So far, he felt confident that he had made the best decision possible. Logically, everything checked out. The only real mistake he had made was assuming his teammates wouldn’t be complete morons. He had picked healer because he thought it would be a useful class, one that could fit well in a team. He had chosen based on what should have worked in a proper party setup.

What he hadn’t accounted for was being stuck with these two.

A hard lesson learned. And from the looks of it, the learning experience wasn’t over yet.