Chapter 02 (Healer)

James carefully examined his status screen, a sense of cautious optimism settling over him. His agility and vitality were nearly on par with his other stats, which was exactly what he had hoped for. These were the attributes he intended to prioritize, as they directly impacted his survivability. Toughness, on the other hand, was a stat he planned to ignore entirely.

Why waste points on toughness when he could acquire armor later? The key would be finding armor that didn’t restrict his movement, ensuring his agility remained a valuable asset. Speaking of agility, it might just be his most critical stat at the moment. Every decision from this point forward had to be calculated—this wasn’t just a game anymore; it was life or death.

He settled on a clear plan: agility first, then vitality, and finally intelligence. Intelligence would boost his mana pool and regeneration, which would be invaluable later when he had more spells at his disposal. For now, though, his mana reserves seemed sufficient to keep his teammates alive. His current skill, Heal (Common), was the only ability that consumed mana, so he decided to inspect it more closely. Tapping on the skill, a small description appeared before him.

Heal (Common)

Heal is a foundational healing skill, a staple for any healer. When activated, the user channels a soft, green light that emanates from their hands, warm and soothing to the touch. The light swirls gently around the target, seeping into their injuries like liquid sunlight. Cuts close, bruises fade, and fractured bones knit together with a faint, almost musical hum. The skill is particularly effective for minor to moderate injuries, restoring vitality and easing pain. However, Heal is not instantaneous. It requires focus and a steady hand, making it less effective in the heat of battle unless the healer is well-protected. The skill also drains a moderate amount of mana, so it must be used judiciously. Advanced healers can enhance its effects by combining it with other abilities, such as mana regeneration or protective barriers, to ensure their allies stay in the fight.

James frowned. The skill’s limitations were concerning. Staying calm and focused to heal someone mid-battle would be a challenge, especially if their enemies had ranged attackers like archers. Without any barriers or movement skills, he’d be an easy target. Ideally, he’d acquire a movement skill before anything else—something like flight or an illusion ability to conceal himself during combat. That would give him the flexibility he needed to stay alive while supporting his team.

His thoughts drifted to the Common Human designation next to his race. Did rarity improve with training or knowledge? Was intelligence tied to education, or was it purely a numerical stat? He needed answers quickly if he wanted to optimize his build. If skills and weapons scaled with specific stats, like strength or agility, he couldn’t afford to spread his points too thin. In Elden Ring, for example, weapons had stat thresholds that dictated their usability. If this system worked similarly, he’d need to specialize rather than diversify.

The rarity of his skill also intrigued him. If Heal (Common) could be upgraded, how would he achieve that? Did it require repeated use, or was there another method? With no one to heal and time to kill in his cramped cell, James decided to experiment. He needed every advantage he could get.

"I think you aliens are just a piece of tra—" he began, but before he could finish, a searing pain shot through his body, slamming him against the metal wall. He groaned, clutching his side as he struggled to stand. The pain was excruciating, a stark reminder of the consequences of defiance. Checking his status screen, he saw his health had dropped to seventy. His health regeneration kicked in almost immediately, restoring three points every five seconds.

Curious, he activated Heal. A soft green glow enveloped his right hand, spreading warmth throughout his body. The pain subsided as his health steadily climbed. It took roughly three seconds for the skill to fully restore him, costing about fifteen mana. His mana pool regenerated even faster than his health, likely due to his higher intelligence stat. Still, maintaining the spell required intense concentration, a detail that didn’t escape his notice.

As the green light faded, James leaned back against the wall, his mind racing. This was just the beginning. If he wanted to survive—if he wanted to thrive—he’d need to master every aspect of his abilities. And he would. No matter what it took.

James sat in his cell, his mind racing as he contemplated the intricacies of his healing skill. He needed to understand its limits and potential. Could he heal faster? Could he use his left hand instead of his right? Determined to find answers, he decided to push the boundaries, even if it meant enduring more pain.
"Hey, you aliens, I think you suck!" James shouted at the ceiling, bracing himself for the inevitable.

A sharp, electric jolt coursed through his body, leaving him gasping for breath. Over the next few hours, he subjected himself to repeated shocks, each one more agonizing than the last. Through this self-imposed torture, he discovered that he could indeed increase the speed of his healing, though it came at the cost of higher mana consumption. He also found that he could cast the skill with either hand or both simultaneously, though it didn’t affect the healing speed. These were small but crucial insights, and James noted them carefully.

He tried to test his stamina by running in place, only to find that it cost him nothing. It seemed stamina wasn’t a factor here—or at least not in this confined space. Frustrated but determined, he turned his attention to the mechanical voice. "How long will it take until I see my team or get my task or mission?" he asked, hoping he hadn’t angered the voice too much. To his surprise, it responded promptly.

In one hour, you will be teleported to your teammates

You have sixteen hours to prepare until you are released on Floor Number Zero

The answer was more detailed than he had expected, and James felt a flicker of relief. At least he had some time to prepare. The next hour dragged on painfully as James continued to test his limits, enduring shocks to build his pain resistance. He had never experienced much physical pain in his life—the worst had been a bad toothache—but he knew that in this new reality, pain tolerance could mean the difference between life and death. If he could function through the agony of a stab wound or a broken bone, he might just survive long enough to turn the tide.

When the hour finally passed, a blinding white light enveloped him, and he was transported to a larger room. The walls were the same cold metal, but this space was more furnished, with a few beds tucked into one corner. Before he could take in his surroundings, two other figures materialized in the room.
The first was a burly man whose muscular frame was hidden beneath layers of fat. He had a thick neck—or rather, the absence of one—a stubby nose, and a short black beard that seemed to merge with his chest. His presence was imposing, but not in a way that inspired confidence.

The second was a woman with bright blue hair, half of which was shaved on the left side. Her ears were adorned with an excessive number of black piercings, and her face was caked with layers of makeup, her lips unnaturally inflated. James would bet a lot of money that she was not able to open her mouth with those lips even if she wanted to. She wore tall black boots and an all-black outfit that completed her gothic aesthetic. James couldn’t help but feel a pang of unease. These were his teammates?

"So, you’re the idiot who picked healer," the man barked, his voice dripping with disdain. "What were you thinking? Everyone knows healers are the most useless class. Oh, I get it—you just want to sit back while we do all the work."

James bit his tongue, resisting the urge to retort. Says the guy who’s probably never worked a day in his life, he thought silently.

"Yes, how dumb are you, please?" the woman chimed in, her voice shrill and mocking. She rolled the "e" in "please" in a way that sent chills down James’s spine. "I already don’t like you. You’re not a real man. I’m a high-value woman, and I refuse to speak with an incel like you."

James felt a wave of despair wash over him. In the confines of his cell, he had imagined strategizing with his team, discussing tactics, and planning their survival. Instead, he was stuck with two individuals who seemed determined to make everything harder.

"Okay, woman, listen up," the man—presumably Ruppert—said, turning to the woman, who must have been Sara. "We need to be strong and exchange the healer at the first possible location."

James walked over to one of the beds and lay down, trying to clear his head. This was a nightmare. He had chosen healer because it was the logical, responsible choice. But how had he failed to consider the possibility that his teammates would be complete idiots?

As he stared at the ceiling, a single thought echoed in his mind: Why didn’t I pick archer? God, I’m such an idiot. Healer had seemed like the best decision at the time, but now he was trapped with two people who seemed determined to sabotage their own survival.

The challenges ahead weren’t just about fighting monsters or navigating dangerous terrain. If they were thrown into a labyrinth or an escape room scenario, it would be game over. James closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He needed a plan—and fast.

James lay on the bed, his mind racing as he tried to formulate a plan. The metallic walls of the room seemed to close in around him, the cold, sterile environment doing little to ease his growing anxiety. He needed information—anything that could give him an edge in the trials to come. Summoning his resolve, he directed his thoughts toward the mechanical voice.

"Hey, mechanical voice. What will the first trial be, or what challenges await us on Floor Zero?" he asked, his voice steady despite the tension in the room.

Before the voice could respond, Ruppert’s booming voice cut through the air like a thunderclap. "Ey, shut up over there! I don’t want to hear another word from you. You’re lucky we can’t throw you out of the group right now!" The large man’s face was red with anger, his stubby nose flaring as he glared at James. He then turned back to Sara, whispering furiously, their heads bent together like conspirators plotting his downfall.

James ignored the outburst, though his jaw tightened as he read the mechanical voice’s response. It was clear the voice had a sense of humor—or perhaps a sense of vengeance.

Everything will be revealed before you are sent there

The answer was vague, but it was something. James had expected as much. What followed, however, sent a chill down his spine.

Take your time to prepare for everything

Your life will depend on it

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. James clenched his fists, his mind racing. Preparation was key, but how could he possibly prepare with Ruppert and Sara in the room? Their voices rose in a cacophony of complaints, each blaming the other—and him—for their predicament.

"It’s all his fault!" Sara screeched, her inflated lips twisting into a sneer. "If he hadn’t picked healer, we’d be in a better position!"

"Yeah, useless brat," Ruppert growled, his beady eyes narrowing. "You’re dead weight, and we’re stuck with you."

James tuned them out, focusing instead on the small advantages he could glean. He discovered that he could communicate with the mechanical voice silently, through thought alone. This was a revelation—one he intended to exploit. Over the next few hours, he tested the limits of this ability, enduring the sharp, electric punishments that followed each insult to the aliens. The pain was excruciating, but it served a purpose. Each shock allowed him to practice his healing skill, honing his ability to recover quickly and efficiently.

The hours passed in a blur of pain and progress. James remained silent, refusing to give Ruppert and Sara the satisfaction of seeing him struggle. He moved to the far side of the room, putting as much distance between himself and his teammates as possible. Their volatile behavior was a liability, and he couldn’t afford to provoke them.

Ruppert’s strength and Sara’s potential fire skills made them dangerous, and in this confined space, there was no escape. No doors, no windows—just cold, unyielding metal.

James kept his head down, his movements deliberate and unobtrusive. He had no illusions about his teammates. They weren’t just pulling him down; they were actively working against him, their incompetence and hostility a constant threat. The best he could do was stay invisible, avoid drawing their attention, and focus on his own survival.

As he sat in the corner, his body still tingling from the latest shock, James allowed himself a moment of grim determination. The trials ahead would be brutal, and his teammates were more of a hindrance than a help. But he had his skills, his wits, and a burning desire to survive. That would have to be enough.


<author note>

Okay thats it for today with this story.

Hope you enjoyed it and share your thoughts.

Cheers

<author note>