[Three Weeks Later]
The nightly hunts had become routine.
Walk the streets. Look vulnerable. Wait for new victims.
Eliminate them.
Collect karma.
Repeat.
[System: Nut Cracker Streak: 47 targets neutralized!]
[System: Current Karma: -9,999,999,999,999,998,875,749]
[System: Total Karma Gained from Vigilante Work: 940,000!]
The rumors had spread quickly.
"The Nut Devastator, confiscator of family Jewels." they called her by many names. A demon woman who haunted the streets at night, targeting men who preyed on the vulnerable. Men whispered warnings to each other. Criminal elements avoided certain districts entirely.
"You've made an impact," Masayuki said approvingly.
"The streets are safer," Vincent added. "That's... actually good?"
"She's still enjoying the violence too much," Klaus pointed out.
"Meh," Boris agreed.
The new tavern had opened a week ago bigger, nicer, with actual structural integrity. Agatha had spared no expense.
Which meant the debt had increased to 650 gold.
"She's pure evil," Vincent had said when we saw the new total.
"Genius," Masayuki corrected. "Evil genius."
But the work was manageable. Sarah cooked. Amelia handled inventory. I served tables. We'd fallen into a rhythm.
Almost peaceful.
Almost.
One evening
I was in the shower when the screaming started.
Not the usual tavern noise—drunk adventurers or rowdy celebrations.
Genuine screaming. Terror... Pain.
"What's happening?" Vincent asked.
I looked out the small bathroom window, soap still in my hair, basically naked.
The street outside was chaos.
A figure stood in the middle of the main square. Young, maybe early twenties, with the kind of pretty-boy face that belonged on a magazine cover. Long white hair. Ornate robes that glowed faintly. A staff in his hand that pulsed with healing magic.
And bodies.
So many bodies.
"EXPERIENCE!" he shouted, his voice carrying. "I NEED MORE EXPERIENCE!"
He pointed his staff at a fleeing civilian. A bolt of pure white energy shot out.
The man's head exploded.
"What the—" I started.
"This world is just a GAME!" the healer laughed. "And I'm going to LEVEL UP!"
"That's an otherworlder," Masayuki said immediately. "And he's gone completely insane."
More people ran. More died. Each death accompanied by a notification only the healer and Hitomi could see.
+47 EXP
+52 EXP
+61 EXP
"Humans give better experience than low-level monsters!" he announced to nobody. "Why waste time on goblins when I can just...."
A sword flashed.
Kazuto appeared, dual-wielding, his expression furious.
"STOP THIS!" he roared.
The healer turned, his pretty face splitting into a grin. "Oh! Another player! Are you here to party up? I'm grinding these NPC's. Its much more efficient than going out to hunt monsters"
"You're MURDERING people!"
"They're just NPCs! They respawn!"
"THEY'RE REAL PEOPLE!"
"Sure they are." The healer rolled his eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Kazuto attacked.
His movements were fast almost super sonic speed, perfect form. Both swords struck in a blur of steel.
Kazuto did the anime swordsman thing where they slash their opponent but for some strange reason are behind them
The healer raised his staff.
"HEAL."
A pulse of white light.
Kazuto's strikes healed the instant they landed. Cuts sealed. Blood reversed. Damage undone.
"That's the thing about being a healer," the pretty boy said cheerfully. "I'm basically immortal!"
He swung his staff like a club. It connected with Kazuto's ribs with a sickening crack.
Kazuto flew backward, crashed into a wall.
"Healers in this world work differently than traditional RPGs," Masayuki explained quickly. "They can heal themselves infinitely as long as they have mana. And if they focus on offense..."
"They're tanks," Klaus finished. "Unkillable tanks with support abilities."
Kazuto struggled to his feet, coughing blood. "You... male healers shouldn't exist, that's kind of...."
"Of course not! I'm a COMBAT healer! Level 67! Just fought one of the Twelve Demon Kings—well, lost, technically—but I learned SO MUCH!" He pointed his staff at the sky. "And now I'm here to grind back my losses! These NPCs are only giving me 50-60 EXP each, but there are SO MANY of them!"
Kazuto's harem arrived the tsundere mage, the deredere healer, the yandere.... I mean Sarah, her dagger drawn.
"Oh no," Vincent said. "Sarah's there."
"Stand down!" the tsundere shouted at the healer. "You're under citizen's arrest for—"
"Blah blah blah." The healer yawned. "Are you going to fight or talk?"
The tsundere fired a spell. Lightning arced toward him.
"HEAL."
The lightning dissipated, absorbed into healing energy that patched a scratch on his cheek.
"Seriously? Lightning? How original." He grinned wider. "You know what's fun about being a male healer?"
Kazuto's face went pale. "Everyone... RUN. NOW."
"What?" Sarah asked.
"HE'S A MALE HEALER. RUN!"
"What does that even..."
The healer's grin became manic. "Guess what? JOKES ON YOU..."
He raised his staff high.
"I'M A HEALER!"
A pulse of sickly green light exploded outward.
"Oh no," Masayuki said. "Oh NO."
"What's happening?" I asked.
"Hitomi, don't look!"
The green light washed over every woman in the square.
Including Sarah. Including Kazuto's harem. Including a dozen female adventurers who'd gathered to help.
Their clothes vanished.
Not torn. Not burned.
Vanished.
Every woman collapsed to the ground, naked, unable to move. Paralyzed by the healing magic that had inverted its purpose.
"WHAT—" I started.
"Healing magic works by manipulating the body's natural state," Masayuki said quickly, his voice tight. "In certain fantasy ummm literature, male healers have developed... techniques. Ways to use healing magic for combat. The 'HEAL' spell he just used—it returns the body to a 'natural state.' No clothes, no defensive magic, no ability to resist."
"That's—that's—"
"Evil. Yes. Very evil."
"But why are they paralyzed?!"
"The spell also 'heals' away their ability to move. Temporarily. It's..." Masayuki struggled for words. "Imagine Pokémon types. Water beats fire. Electric beats water. In certain fantasy settings, male healers beat female fighters. It's a type advantage built into reality itself."
"THAT'S HORRIBLE!"
"Yes. Which is why we need to STOP HIM."
In the square, the healer walked among the paralyzed women, his staff tapping the ground.
"See? THIS is why I love this build! Combat healer is SO broken!" He looked at Kazuto, who was trying to get up despite his injuries. "You should've run when you had the chance."
Sarah lay on the ground, naked and paralyzed, her eyes full of rage and humiliation.
The healer picked up his staff, spinning it like a showman.
"Now then," he said, his voice dripping with false cheer. "Time for the fun part. This rod—"
I was moving before I realized it.
Out the bathroom window. Down the side of the building. Into the street.
My towel barely stayed wrapped around me. Soap foam slid down from my hair into my eyes.
I didn't care.
"Hitomi, WAIT!" Vincent started.
"No," I said aloud.
The healer turned, saw me approaching. His eyes lit up with interest.
"Oh! Another woman! Did you come to—" He paused, looking at my towel, the soap in my hair. "—did you come from the bath?"
"—or my rod!" I shouted, completing his sentence before he could.
He blinked. "What?"
"You were about to make a staff joke. 'This rod or my rod.' Very original. I've seen Redo of Healer."
"How do you know about Redo of Healer?!" Klaus demanded.
"I watched anime in my truck! I had a lot of time to kill!"
"Pun intended?"
"NOT NOW, KLAUS."
The healer's expression shifted from confusion to delight. "You KNOW that show? You're an otherworlder too!"
"Yeah."
"And you recognized my build! That's—that's actually amazing!" He laughed. "Finally! Someone who gets it! This world is just a game, right? These NPCs—"
"Are real people."
His smile faded slightly. "...What?"
"Real people. With real lives. Real families." I stepped closer, my towel threatening to fall, soap dripping onto the cobblestones. "You're not playing a game. You're committing murder."
"They're NPCs—"
"THEY'RE REAL!" I shouted. "Look I get killing people to get stronger, and I have no right to lecture you..... but" Her expression shifts to that look of a child justifying stealing candy from another child "I had to follow the anime script and murder a bunch of teenagers and send them to fantasy worlds."
He studied me. "You killed people?"
"I was a truck."
"...What?"
"Long story. Point is—you need to stop. Now."
He laughed. "Or what? You'll fight me? You're a woman. I'm a HEALER. You know how this goes."
"I'm also a force of nature."
His laugh stopped. "Eh?"
"Oh," Vincent said. "Oh, she's going to do it."
"She's going to Nut Cracker a healer," Klaus said. "This is either brilliant or suicidal."
"Both," Masayuki said. "Definitely both."
"Meh," Boris contributed.
"Last chance," I said. "Leave. Now. Or I make you leave."
"You're in a TOWEL."
"I don't need clothes to kick your ass."
He raised his staff. "You know what? Fine. I'll strip you, change your face and erase your memories, then add you to my party! After I use HEAL on you, you'll be much more... compliant."
Green light began to gather around his staff.
"Hitomi, he's going to cast—" Masayuki warned.
I moved.
Faster than before. Faster than I'd moved against the criminals.
My Yōki flared. It became a blue aura around me.
Three weeks of becoming dangerous.
The healer's eyes widened. "Wait—you're FAST—"
My fist connected with his face before he could finish the spell.
Concussive Strike.
He flew backward, crashed through a merchant stall, and tumbled across the square.
Blood streamed from his nose.
"HEAL," he gasped.
The blood reversed. His nose straightened. In seconds, he looked perfect again.
He stood up, shocked. "You... you HIT me."
"I'm going to do it again."
"I'M A HEALER! I counter women! It's a TYPE ADVANTAGE!"
"I don't care about your type advantage."
"But—but the rules—"
"I make my own rules."
He stared at me. At my towel. At the soap still dripping from my hair.
At the absolute lack of fear in my eyes.
"Who ARE you?" he whispered.
I smiled.
Not friendly.
Not nice.
The same smile I used on the predators in the alleys.
"I'm Hitomi," I said. "Back in Japan they called me Truck-kun."
I cracked my knuckles.
"And I'm about to teach you why you should've stayed in whatever dungeon you crawled out of."
My towel slipped slightly.
I didn't bother adjusting it.
"She's terrifying," Vincent said, awed.
"She's magnificent," Klaus breathed.
"She's going to fight a healer in a towel," Masayuki said. "This is either the most badass thing ever or the most ridiculous thing ever."
"Meh," Boris said, which meant "both."
The healer's staff glowed green.
My fists glowed with Yōki.
The square went silent.
Even the paralyzed women stopped struggling to watch.
Kazuto, bleeding and broken, could only stare.
"This is insane," the healer said.
"Yeah," I agreed.
"You're going to fight me. In a towel. With soap in your hair."
"Yep."
"And you think you can WIN?"
I grinned wider.
"I know I can."
The healer's expression shifted. From confusion to anger to something else.
Respect? Fear?
Whatever it was, he raised his staff.
"Fine then. Let's see what you've got."
Green light exploded from his staff.
White light exploded from my fists.
And in that moment, in a city square, surrounded by destruction and paralyzed women and a bleeding S-rank hero—
A waitress in a towel faced down a psychotic healer.
This is my life now, I thought distantly.
And then there was no more time for thinking.
Only fighting.
[TO BE CONTINUED]