Tank, DPS, and Heal

"We have to go down?"

"Yeah."

Valencia, the Hero Association president, was fighting the Demon Baron even further below where I was now.

"Hmm."

There were no elevators around, and taking the stairs would mean a long way down.

"What are you guys, moles? Why build something like this underground?"

"..."

Dark Lady clamped her mouth shut, refusing to spill any info. Whatever. I wasn't planning to interrogate her right now anyway. Once this job was done and we got home, she'd spill everything amid moans of pleasure. Look forward to it!

"Shall we go, then?"

"Let me go!"

"Behave yourself. Unless you want a hole in your neck."

"..."

Threats backed by life-or-death stakes always worked. With Dark Lady tucked under my arm like luggage, I gave a light hop in place.

No elevator? Fine, I'd make one.

Thud!

"What the—?!"

I'd jumped lightly, but the impact was anything but. Cracks spiderwebbed out from my landing spot, sending massive vibrations through the floor.

"Hm. Pretty sturdy. But keep pounding, and it'll break eventually."

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

I started jumping in place like a kid on a trampoline. Each bounce widened the fissures until, before I'd even hit ten, the floor caved in.

Gravity Dominator!

As we plummeted, I activated Gravity Dominator. The fall accelerated, letting me punch straight through the floors without jumping.

"Hey! Where do we stop?!"

"Stop! Here!"

"Got it!"

Thud!

At Dark Lady's shout, I hastily cut the superpower. A split-second too late—my ankle sank into the floor.

Oof. Feels like I turned into a tree. Should I rename myself Tree Armor starting today?

Thinking about name changes reminded me of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my own. I'd decided to ditch my embarrassingly lame name, but forgot all about it. Right after this job, I'd ask Uncle Chris to handle the paperwork.

Yanking my leg free like pulling a weed, I bolted in the direction Dark Lady pointed.

There, I spotted Valencia pinned to the wall, bleeding out, surrounded by villains.

"You're no longer needed. Gut ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠punch!"

"Guh!"

I slammed my fist into Dark Lady's stomach again, tossed her aside, and unleashed Gravity Dominator.

"Hey! Ugly fuck over there! Freeze!"

*****

Thanks to the surprise superpower burst, I got a good look at Demon Baron and his villain crew.

Holy shit... Wing theme down here? Every damn one has wings.

Demon Baron included, all the villains had bat-like wings sprouting from their backs—tattered, torn, and hole-riddled.

Wings made me think of the succubus. Later, I'd visit her, grab those wings, and go doggy-style. Sigh... My post-job to-do list is piling up.

"You're... Steel Armor, right? Dark Lady should've gone your way?"

Demon Baron dropped from the ceiling like nothing happened and addressed me. Pretty brazen. His voice was deep and gravelly, mismatched with his pretty-boy face that looked late teens. Fine, I'd match his mature tone. (Though under a microscope, I could pass for late teens too.)

"She did. But they can't touch me."

"Stronger than we anticipated, Steel Armor."

"Stronger than you anticipated—and then some."

"..."

"Not getting it? In other words..."

"Die!"

One wall-stuck villain charged me in two steps, swinging his arm. His nails were dagger-long and sharp, reeking of poison.

"Interrupting while I'm talking to your boss? No manners."

He was fast—most superpowered folks would've eaten shit without countering. Too bad I wasn't most.

His moves were crystal clear to me.

"Grahk?!"

I snatched his throat mid-lunge. Squeezed until he couldn't breathe.

"Guh!"

Caught, he still swung wildly to claw me. Like I'd let that slide.

Crunch!

"Keurgh...!"

I snapped his neck. Tongue lolling, he dropped dead.

I dangled the corpse toward Demon Baron.

"How do you train your dogs? Raising them without manners. Teach 'em better next time—'Manners maketh man,' right?"

"..."

Demon Baron showed zero reaction to his minion's death. Just stared like, So what? Figures—no decent personalities among villains except me. That's why they're villains. Good ones become heroes.

I tossed the body aside and addressed Demon Baron.

"I've got business with that dying old geezer behind you. How about it? Hand him over nicely?"

"Do you even know who he is?"

"Of course. Why ask otherwise?"

"What do I get for handing the Association president to you?"

"Plenty. Something very precious."

Straightening my slouch, I declared:

"Your life."

"..."

"P.S., Dark Lady and her crew rejected my offer. Guess what happened? Me being here answers that."

"..."

No response to my mercy. Just those hollow eyes staring. Valencia looked seconds from croaking... Fight time? Could I kill 'em all before he died?

No chance.

Even simulations said impossible. Key point: I wanted to kill them. Masters hide thirty percent of their power—time to unleash it all. Even at full throttle, they'd outlast Valencia. Wounds too grave.

Oh, right!

"By the way, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠since you're pondering... White Knight's here too. About thirty minutes ago, entered the base."

"..."

"Wh-White Knight? That white punk?"

"Fuck... He's a pain."

Demon Baron stayed stone-faced, but his minions flinched. After a minute, he spoke.

"You mean it? You'll let me live?"

"Of course."

"Deal. Let's go."

"..."

Whoa! Demon Baron was ice-cool. No collateral or hostage, yet he trusted me, turned, and headed for a door. His villains followed—including the one I'd just killed, rising and rubbing his neck.

"Ugh... Feels like death... Ow! Bones'll take time to knit."

"?????"

I gawked as he strolled after Demon Baron.

Wait, what? Why's that fucker alive? I killed him. Felt it snap.

They vanished. Cool and baffling.

"...Should've backstabbed."

Tempted, since he trusted me too much. But my temp boss Cutie Armor's orders were to rescue Valencia. Thanks to you, Rachel—no, Cutie Armor— they're breathing!

With them gone, I rushed to Valencia.

"Fucking punks. No respect for elders—attacking one? Hey, you okay? Can you move?"

"Ugh... Uuugh..."

"Hey! Shit... He's legit dying."

Valencia tried lifting his head but flopped back, strength gone. Not dead yet—but soon.

"Gonna use it here, huh."

My current powers couldn't save him. Not yet.

It'd been ages since I commanded the system last—superpower list sprawled out. My body was too tough to need it sooner, but I'd planned to grab Healer eventually. Didn't expect now.

With Healer in pocket, my already perfect setup hit god-tier. Tank, DPS, heal harmony achieved.

Burned 10 level-up tickets to max it at Lv.10, picked traits fast. Results:

"Lemme see... Ready for a test run?"

Right now, I wasn't Cutie Armor's sidekick, Cutie Sexy Steel Armor. I was a divine physician ascended—Heo Jun Armor!

Aaah... He's coming! Master Heo Jun approaches!

"Bwoorurururururu!"

Possession complete, I loomed over Valencia and extended a hand.

"Hong Cheon-ee!"

Fuck? Wrong spirit?! Why comedian Im Hyun-sik?!

"Jokes over."

Time to get serious and save Valencia.

"Rapid Heal should do it."

On death's doorstep, I fired Rapid Heal.

Drip!Crack!

Deep gashes knit shut fast; shattered bones realigned.

"Cough!"

Valencia hacked up black blood—poison and rot purged.

"Damn... Miracle he lasted this long."

My 1000 heal points drained quick. Halfway recovered, already down 500.

"Gonna need blood... Fuck, feeding a dude my blood."

Sliced my palm, dripped into his mouth. Tapped his throat—he gulped greedily, unconscious.

Heal points hit 300—recovery complete.