Niji was sitting in the Blue Cat bar and kicking the other barstool, while she observed a clumsy beauty behind the counter. That day Mirabel, one of Beckz’s assistants, was tasked to serve drinks. Her maiden dress didn’t exactly suit the pub’s setting, though guests seemed to like it a lot.

She was younger than Niji—of age, hopefully—and looked like an innocent elf girl from a generic fantasy book: not of a great height, blond waist-length hair, big grayish blue eyes, thin lips in a permanent smile. Mirabel was an ‘extra’ healer in M.A.G.E., and usually it was she who helped Niji after her gruesome training sessions.

Mirabel handed her non-alcoholic blackberry daiquiri; she liked to mix cocktails based on the guest’s color of spectrum cells.

“Poor thing, I am so sorry for you,” she babbled. “Your fights with Dasnor are so cruel.”

“Sometimes I just hate him,” Niji confessed.

“Maybe, it’s not obvious that much, but he does care about his team.”

“My bruises gave me a second opinion.”

Mirabel giggled.

“Anyway, lovers’ quarrels are swift to heal.”

“Silly,” Niji mumbled and hurried to change the topic. “Mira, I wonder… how did you end up here?”

The elf-like girl’s character matched her appearance, thus making her completely out of place. This healer was a true image of a charming, but not entirely competent creature. Sunny’s battle skills were extraordinary at least, but Mirabel was a synonym of clumsiness mixed with forgetfulness. To Niji’s opinion, such characteristics in her CV should have crossed her out from a list of potential enforcers once and for all.

“Me? ... uh…” Mirabel touched her lips childishly. “I once worked as a waiter at Rebecca’s… yeah, I still do… she noticed me and decided I could be useful.”

“Have you thought about finishing the Academy first, for instance?”

“Uh well… honestly, they told me I was hopeless. But I do my best! Real best!” she slammed the counter, and the glasses shook in the urge to fall down. “Someday, I will be allowed to replace Dammit during raids! Maybe…” the medic smiled awkwardly like she was trying to excuse her obtuseness. “You too think I am no use, right?”

“I didn’t…”

“Oh Miri, you are such a sweet child that if it were just me, I’d give in just for a single beautiful smile of yours.”

Dammit joined the girls. Niji laughed out loud when she saw the text on his shirt—10k heal, 100k rez.

“C’mon, Dammit, you play VRMMOs?”

“But of course! Now I grind World of Magic Online. An old-school fantasy world with free PvP, mmmmm, perfection!”

“Really? I play it too! Which server?”

“Darkwood.”

“Me too! And your nickname is...?”

“INeedHealing; Paladin, at your service.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Huuuuuh?! Man, the Internet is a small place. I am Vittoria, Caster.”

“Whoa, I remember you too! Once we went in a random group to Gregor the Horrible raid, right?”

“Yeah, and there was that dark elf, Aruiel. Such a prick!”

“Huh, I’ll never get over that traumatic experience. It was a funny wipe though. The healer sucked so hard.”

“I would never take you for a tank player.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect.”

They both burst into laughter.

“Actually, for me to play healer is… well, you know, you can resurrect in MMOs. But not in real life. You just… die and that’s it. No magic can help you,” Dammit put his hands in his pockets. “Ah, that reminds me why I am here in the first place. Dasnor is calling an urgent raid on some Violets downtown. He and Viktor are on their tail. We need to assemble everyone in the district. It means you, me and Yu-chan. Let’s go. Mira, you’re in charge here.”

“Roger!” she saluted and knocked off a bottle of 12 y.o. whiskey. Dammit was just in time to catch the sacred booze before it hit the ground.

Niji felt nervous. Okay, time for her first raid!

~~~

“So, what’s in there that two robust men can’t handle?” Dammit clasped his hands behind his head.

“One Violet, one Elementalist, and a bunch of magicless or Lackluster sidekicks,” said Dasnor. “We tracked them to their base.”

Niji swallowed. The battle with Sisters demonstrated her inability to fight skilled Crimsons. How lucky she was.

“This shithole is their base?”

“A flat on the second floor.”

They were in one of the strange districts which were still considered a city center, but in reality there was not a single soul around. The reason was a railroad to New Tokyo central station, so the locals preferred not to reside too closely. All that was left were small shabby houses built a century ago, with its gross atmosphere of fading graffiti and broken glass.

Niji felt that Sunny began shaking, even the tips of her pigtails were trembling ferociously. The girl breathed heavily and clenched her fists.

“Sunny, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“The music.”

It was there indeed, some indigestible club beats from the window. The melody was a bastard child of chainsaw roar and bulldozer rumble.

“Eh, yeah. Music,” Niji shrugged. “So what?”

“Ah, I got that,” Dammit smirked. “Wait for it…”

Blood veil covered Sunny’s eyes, and the orange aura was burning over her whole body.

“FUCK. THIS. SHIT. ARRRRGHHHH!”

She unleashed both chakrams in a swift movement and came crashing through to a building with a loud battle cry. Niji would have rushed after, but Dasnor placed his heavy hand on her shoulder. The mage girl blinked in disbelief and stepped back to her place. The squad’s leader removed his palm and began searching for his cigarettes. Dammit was giggling uncontrollably while Viktor pointed at the road behind him with his thumb and pronounced a somewhat unexpected statement, “Okay, can I go now? My garage needs me.”

“V-V-V-Viktor?!” Niji’s eyes went wide, but the Amber just moved down the street.

“Guess I’ll log off too,” Dammit released his hands, spun on his heels and paced in the opposite direction. “See ya.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Niji was extremely frustrated. “Sunny is alone there!”

“Berserk mode,” Dasnor commented, still rummaging his pockets.

“What?”

“Berserk mode. Do you have a lighter? No idea where mine is.”

“Yeah… sure…”

In a total bewilderment, Niji helped him to light a cigarette, and the mage guy took a phlegmatic drag. The music from the house they were supposed to attack was supplemented with crackling, screams and other sounds of struggle. The melody didn’t get any worse though. Niji cleared her throat.

“So...?”

Dasnor sighed in his usual reluctance to explain things.

“When Sunny is wounded and short of health, she switches to a berserker mode. In such a state, her power, speed and endurance are increased three times. Ah, and she can also regenerate health during the brawl. The more hits she scores, the better she gets. That’s that.”

“But… it was nothing but music!”

“Ah, it works out with club music too. She hates drum ’n’ bass. Sometimes we even bring speakers and play it out loud to enrage her quickly.”

The concert stopped. Sunny left the house, clapping her hands to shake off the blood, “Yosh, five jerks unconscious and two dead bodies. Nothing to do here.”

“Wait, we must check if there’s anything valuable,” Dasnor strolled to the entrance. “Let’s go.”

So, enjoy your first Violet raid, Niji, she thought. She could have imagined anything for the occasion. Like, she would heroically save somebody in the latest second or do a killing blow to the most dangerous of the cursed. Or maybe, on the contrary, she would fail so much Dammit would be cackling for the rest of their lives.

But that she would just stay still with a stupid face—no, this wasn’t an option.