Sumi's Panties: A Healer's Rank is Determined by Recovery Amount

Of course, healers were nobility, but not every healer got treated like royalty floating in the sky. Sure, just awakening as one meant people said your life was made, but in high-rank rifts, a healer's own rank mattered big time.

Even in the real world where you couldn't check HP, a healer's recovery restored HP. In that contradictory mess, hunters had figured out their own formula.

In the end, even nobility couldn't join parties that didn't match their specs unless they were gods. Healers dove into rifts to make money too. To conquer higher-rank rifts, you needed a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠healer—and healers needed dealers.

In that sense, my Recovery was straight-up busted. Just head to the Hunter Association, and I'd snag an A-rank license no problem.

And on top of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that, a 5% chance for Critical Heal to double it.

"40% HP recovery? That'd save most shit-tier dealers' asses."

I was dying to bolt to the Hunter Association right now and get crowned the king of healers. Didn't even need A-rank. A C-rank healer cert alone would have hunters kissing my feet in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠C-rank rifts, shoveling cash my way no cap.

"Hah. MP's the fucking problem."

What good's god-tier recovery if I could only cast it once every 100 minutes? When my MP finally filled up? Premature ejaculation healer right here.

That was the one downside of 5-star Recovery: slow early growth. With MP regen at 10% every 10 minutes and max MP at a measly 1, it took a full 100 minutes to hit 100% for one cast.

So in low levels, bus rides were the only way to grow. Would the Hunter Association hand a C-rank cert to a healer like that?

"My pride wouldn't allow it."

5-star Recovery was so OP they might, but I couldn't stomach it. By my standards, I was barely a healer's assistant right now—not even worthy of the title. I planned to grind until I could pull my weight and get treated like a real healer.

No real issues there. Hunters grew by eating rift stones, but I had the system on my side.

Clearing that D-rank rift bumped my level to 2. Just for tagging along without doing shit. Even in Real World, bus rides didn't count as contribution unless you actually helped raid. I got my share from healing Lee Sumi.

Nothing changed. No new unlocks in the skill or achievement shops at level 2.

But knowing I could grow my way without guild sponsorship or official registration was comforting.

"400k a pop plus quest clears? Honey pot."

The growth path was pure newbie welfare—game-style gifts to hook players. Stuff to nudge you toward whaling when you hit a wall instead of quitting. Having it in reality felt like cheat mode enabled.

"Next up, which party needs a porter?"

Humming, I scrolled porter job boards. Competition was fierce, but like yesterday, scout smart and invest time, and safe gigs with good pay weren't hard to snag.

Mid-chicken order and scroll, a text popped on my phone.

"Huh?"

My phone barely got spam or ads—this felt off. Wrong number? Spam bot?

"She actually gave me her real number?"

Honestly, after my panty bullshit, I figured it'd be her bro's, boyfriend's, or a fellow hunter's—to fuck me up if I got creepy. So yeah, I had to doubt it. I'd written it off as fake anyway.

"Nah, probably not."

What if it was revenge for my rudeness? Lure me to a dark alley, harvest organs, dump in a rift—headlines had that scam for years. Not Seora-level, but Lee Sumi was pretty cute.

A cute chick emoji, peeking nervously, fingers bumping. Adorable.

"Heh."

Doubts faded fast. My head was already pink with date fantasies.

Hell, even the line I'd tossed to shake her off might come true. Hope sparked.

"No way this is organ-harvest bait?"

Of course, cold water doused my pink dreams. Sure, I was a total solo dude, but not a retard. Lifesavers got thanks, but girls didn't grant crazy demands from dudes they barely liked—not sexual ones, anyway.

I didn't think she liked me that way. Some people gotta resolve awkwardness or they can't live with it. She was repaying to clear her conscience, so I could take it easy.

But actually show panties? Knowing it wasn't just "look"—while fully aware? My loner radar blared warnings.

"Hah, figures."

What was her angle? No clue, but best bet: ignore and forget. If she pushed despite "no thanks," it'd be weirder. End it grateful, she stays a quest-rewarding lifesaver. Clean cut.

I wasn't some chump chugging kimchi soup dreaming she'd do anything for saving her.

That's what I should've sent. But my fingers typed different. Curiosity won.

"Is this chick faking it like Seora?"

Didn't rage at the panty ask—instead, regret and apology to her lifesaver. Didn't buy it wholesale—Seora pulled that shit. Had to check if other girls were like my world's only woman, Seora.

Pointless, nutrient-free waste of time. Especially for a 5-star awakener like me.

"Can't put dating over a 5-star healer."

Love I'd never tasted at 30. Could be my first step—meaningful choice.

Downtown, even hunters were safe from funny business.

I didn't regret it. Hell, patted myself on the back.

Bustling barbecue joint, chatter and sizzling meat. Back to the door, flushed face buried low, she hiked her knee-length skirt.

My first time witnessing that in life.

"...Thank you for saving me. I'll never forget and repay you forever!"

Her trembling voice hit, and I thought: Just accept the reward and roll with it.

Snapped to: awkwardly following Lee Sumi into a motel room.