Healing by Touch
I'm experiencing my first rift. It's obvious—no one but a lunatic suicidal bastard would dive into a rift without a status window. But here I am, a total contradiction: a complete noob with tons of experience.
Everyone says it: If you're scared of rifts, grind experience in Real World. Sure, the game has a ton of gamey elements, but the rift mechanics are implemented so faithfully they're practically identical to reality. Studies proved that experience there translates directly to the real world. And me? I've sunk over six years into Real World—I'm basically a worn-out dishrag, just without the real-world mileage.
So yeah, I was tense, but I scanned my surroundings, stuck to the safest spots, and moved carefully.
"Lucky the healer and porter roles overlap a bit."
Both are useless on their own in a rift. A hunter's one job? Slaughter monsters. Healers and porters do the exact opposite: survive. Dodge, endure, support the hunters however you can.
"Left! Two on the left!"
"Three on the right too!"
"Block 'em! We're finishing the center ones!!"
"Kyaa! What the hell is this?!"
Those skills shone brightest in situations like this.
Thanks, Seora.
My fixed DPS partner. When we duoed rifts, she'd charge headfirst into monster swarms without a glance back at her trailing healer. A total bitch who only yelled "Heal!" or "Shield!" when she needed it, rampaging like a tyrant across the battlefield. Didn't give a shit if I lived or died.
The ridiculous part? She never actually died doing it. Sure, she'd wipe once or twice, but Real World is a game. She'd rez on my revive, we'd clear the rift, and then she'd hit me with some bullshit like, "I died on purpose—factoring in the rez."
With skills like that, clearing S-rank rifts as a duo? No arguments there. Still, I always wanted to ask why my survival never factored into her calculations.
Thanks to grinding with that psycho, dodging the stray mobs leaking through an eight-man party's lines was child's play for me.
"Today's a bitch. Sigh."
"What can ya do."
"Eight-man party and it's this rough?"
"I wanna porter for an experienced rift crew."
The porters griping behind me as they dumped their loads on me. Their grim faces made it clear why they were offloading on the new guy.
These eight hunters weren't great. D-rank rift—right in that awkward "not too low, not too high" sweet spot for rookies challenging it. They tried coordinating, but it was sloppy, and the monsters were wearing them down bit by bit.
Made sense: a big crew and porters for a D-rank, plus tons of gear for a two-night trip. These porters had probably partied with them before, so they colluded to lighten their load by dumping on the newbie—me—while I handled the stragglers safely.
"Yawn."
Whatever. The ultimate loner, I secured my safe spot and kept my eyes glued to the hunters in combat.
HP bars floating over the hunters' heads. With the quest requiring me to heal someone under 10%, I had to watch like a hawk.
"10% is cutting it close."
Why the quest felt easy in Real World? Simple. Right after awakening and clearing my tutorial, I begged a random player partying with me to tank down to under 10% HP. Then I healed 'em with my Recovery skill. One and done. But looking back, even then it was pretty dicey.
"Everyone's HP is low—3-4% hits could one-shot 'em."
In a game, rez and move on. Reality? No resses. Asking hunters to tank to near-death for my quest? Yeah, no. They'd probably beat me to death first. Plus, it'd out me as a healer.
Tutorial with all those handicaps? Trickier than expected. But I wasn't worried.
"Accident incoming soon."
I'm no greenhouse flower raised in Seora's arms. If anything, our solo rift dates were wilder—more like thorny weeds.
Before Seora, I'd grinded countless rifts to level my 5-star Recovery, partying with pub groups to clear quests. I could read parties like a book. One look at their fights, and I knew how it'd play out. Could they clear? For a solo-support class like healer, who needs a "bus," that instinct was survival.
Who to keep alive so I get out alive? Price it right, or die.
"Kyaa!"
"Sumi!"
My big data from experience nailed it. No long wait—a scream from the backline mage girl, blood spraying from her nape like a fountain.
HP that was 11 ten seconds ago plummeted. I watched it tick to 8 right before my eyes.
Chance.
"No!"
"Staunch the bleeding first!"
"Fuck, her carotid's ripped—how the hell?!"
"Kit! First aid kit, now!"
"Hey! Kill the monsters first! Line's breaking!"
And crisis. Party collapses in rifts start small: a moment's lapse, one tiny hole. When that hits a smoothly rolling group, it crumbles fast. Especially rookies in a first D-rank, can't even perform at usual levels.
Combat not even over, some focus on the injured Sumi. Others hold the line, but one more breach and the whole party ends up like her.
What a shitshow.
Honestly, baffling. Even if Real World mirrors reality, hunters here have no extra lives. F/E-ranks? Sure. But D-rankers panicking like this?
Smart to bring eight, accounting for that.
"Almost done! Keep 'em off Sumi!"
"Clear the back!"
"Porter! Porter! First aid kit, hurry!"
One injury wouldn't wipe them. A few snapped to it, holding monsters and killing the one that bit Sumi.
Left was Sumi, arterial spray turning her into a HP countdown.
I waited.
At 2, it'll do.
Drop speeding up—had to focus. 10% of 22 is 2.2—hit 2, heal, tutorial done.
Prep time. Didn't wanna watch her die.
"Ah!"
Mid-MP finger-flick, a buried memory surfaced. Countless cleared quests. Innumerable achievements. None easy, especially the special ones—vivid even now.
"Move!"
Eyes locked on me. Planned to snipe from afar.
Changed my mind. Grabbed nearby leaves, crushed 'em, bolted to the downed girl.
"What the—?!"
Shoved past hunters, batted away their useless hands on her mangled neck. Slammed crushed leaves on, pressed hard.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
The shoved hunter yelled. No way an F-rank strength scrub like me budges them—unless panic and surprise hit hard.
Rage natural. Palm or leaves, that gushing carotid wouldn't stop. Even with my palm over mushy leaves? Same deal.
Sssshhh—
But add Recovery, and...
"Huh?"
"W-what?!"
Wait. Timing's here, but not yet. Split-second. HP, accelerating past the 10-to-9 drop, hit 2—then straight to 1.
Blood-red highlight. That instant, prepped Recovery seeped in.
"That's it!"
Torn flesh knit shut, blood staunched.
"H-healer?"
Shocked voices followed, as expected.