Chapter 1: The Healer
Hey. I'm Marcus Lee—your typical stuck-in-support-forever kind of student.
I always wanted to be on top. To be the one people look up to. But how am I supposed to do that when I can't even attack?
I'm a support.
I can only help attackers shine brighter.
And the worst part? My classmates don't want someone like me. In their eyes, healers are unnecessary. Why need healing if you never get hurt? Just get stronger, hit harder—problem solved.
Today was the day we'd all been waiting for: Buddy Assignment Day.
The system is kind of like the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter, except instead of a hat, it's a small, talking machine—more like a metal box—that assigns compatible partners. It was designed by a famous alumnus of this university, an attacker-mechanic type genius who could build and control any technology he imagined. Rumor has it his son enrolled here this year too.
I secretly hoped I'd get paired with someone like that.
The entire hall buzzed with excitement as the school director explained the process.
First, the system analyzes your type:
Attacker – relies on pure offensive power
Defender – excels in endurance and resilience
Support – enhances, amplifies, or sustains the team
I already knew where I belonged.
My family has always been support-type.
My mom is a Barb—she uses music to amplify her partner's stats.
My dad… was a healer too.
He's missing.
According to my mom, he was abducted by an unknown organization. The authorities never found a single lead. He was a special kind of healer—a defender-healer hybrid. He couldn't heal others. Only himself. He'd throw his body in front of danger, regenerate, and do it all over again.
Painful.
But undeniably cool.
Support types like me amplify the team. We're essential—but overlooked. Replaceable. Forgotten.
If I could choose, I'd be an attacker. If I were strong enough, maybe I could climb to the top. Maybe I could find my dad.
If there were any way for a support to attack… I'd take it without hesitation.
Eventually, my name was called.
My heart pounded as I stepped forward and placed my hands on the system. It felt warm. Tingly. Almost alive.
The machine buzzed.
Crackled.
Made noises it definitely shouldn't.
Why is this taking so long?
Everyone else finished in seconds.
Then a voice echoed through the hall:
"From a well-known clan of healing ability…"
Static.
"Defender?… Attacker?… aaaaah!"
My breath caught.
"Support Type Healer with Advanced Skills — Class A."
Whispers erupted around me. I didn't need to hear them. I already knew what they were saying.
Of course.
A healer.
I clenched my fists. All I wanted now was a strong buddy. Someone with ambition. Someone who wouldn't look down on me.
The system continued.
"A perfect match will be…
Searching…
Searching…"
The pause stretched painfully long.
"No match in the database.
Try again after every student is recorded."
…What?
My chest tightened.
How does someone have no match?
The system was never wrong. That's what everyone said.
I stepped down from the stage, head spinning—
—and slammed straight into someone.
"Oof—"
He didn't apologize.
He looked carefree, almost lazy, wearing a ripped jacket and carrying a massive bag slung over his shoulder. Rugged. Sharp-eyed. Completely unapologetic.
Before I could say anything, the director called the next name.
"Next… Kent Salvador."
Kent?
So this was the rude guy.
The system activated again.
"Class D… Attacker…"
I frowned.
Then—
"…to be paired with Marcus Lee."
Silence.
My mind went blank.
What?
What?!
A Class D attacker.
Paired with me—the support with no match?
I looked up just in time to see Kent grin.
And for the first time that day, I had a strange feeling—
That something had gone terribly wrong.
Or maybe…
terribly right....