I woke up early in the morning, and then, I headed downstairs to fetch the free breakfast that Eleanor offered. It wasn’t bad, in my opinion, just a simple toast, bacon, and eggs.
The guild building was still as quiet as usual, the faint hum of machinery in the background and a few murmurs from scattered mercenaries the only sounds. I quickly finished my meal, placed the plate on the counter, and made my way to the quest terminal.
As I scrolled through the available jobs, Eleanor glanced over from where she was wiping down a table. “Hey, Ain,” she called out, her tone casual, “why don’t you try filtering the terminal for healer-related tasks?”
I paused, turning to her with a raised eyebrow. “Healer-related tasks?”
She smirked slightly, her rag moving in steady circles on the tabletop. “Yeah. So far, I haven’t suggested them to you, have I? But it might be worth a shot. Those types of jobs tend to be more specialized, and you might find something better suited to your skill set.”
I nodded, intrigued by the idea. “Fair point. Guess it’s time to put these skills to more focused use.”
Eleanor gave a small shrug, still focused on cleaning. “Just a suggestion. But from what I’ve seen, you’re more than capable of handling them. Could even earn you a good reputation among the guild members. Maybe they’ll recruit you to their party.”
I turned back to the terminal, narrowing the filters as Eleanor had suggested. My curiosity was piqued—what kind of healer-specific tasks would show up?
Before applying the filter, the tasks had been overwhelmingly generic—straightforward objectives like delivering medical supplies, assisting with triage, or patching up injured mercenaries. Nothing particularly special or challenging, and most of them could easily be handled with standard medicine and basic first-aid skills.
[Do You Have Medical Qualifications?]
[Yes] [No]
I pressed the yes button.
[Scanning… Medical-Qualification Related Memory Found. Adjusting tasks according to available skillsets and tools]
[Skillset: Anesthesiologist + Novice Potion Maker]
[Displaying Job]
The terminal screen flickered briefly before populating with a fresh set of tasks. My eyes scanned the list, intrigued to see what opportunities matched my qualifications. These weren’t the generic “patch up a soldier” jobs I’d seen earlier.
[Develop, Deliver, and Administer a Potion to Nullify a Rampaging Psionic Warlord: 350,000 UC]
[Provide Emergency Sedation and Pain Management for Survivors Trapped in a Reality-Warping Anomaly: 1,000,000 UC]
[Assist in the Capture and Sedation of an Elemental: 280,000 UC]
[Potion Needed For Dragon’s Headache: 260,000 UC]
[Certified Healer Needed For Dungeon Infiltration: 240,000 UC]
[Need Healer+Sedation Serums: 230,000 UC]
[Provide Anesthesiologist Medical Support For Task Force 404: 800,000 UC]
One thing caught my attention—the pay for providing medical support to the task force had gone up significantly. I frowned at the terminal, trying to make sense of it. The last time I’d seen this contract, the reward was nowhere near this high. Now, it was almost suspiciously generous.
I didn’t understand why. Maybe the situation had escalated? Maybe they were desperate? Either way, it wasn’t a great sign. If the pay had increased, it probably meant the task itself had become far more difficult—and far more dangerous.
Great, I thought, shaking my head. More danger, more risk. But the pay… well, that’s tempting. What could go really wrong?
You know what, fuck it, we ball.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I accepted the job to provide medical support for the task force. As soon as I confirmed it, the screen updated, displaying a detailed checklist of objectives that needed to be completed—and within strict time durations.
[Provide Anesthesiologist Medical Support For Task Force 404 | 60:00]
* Bring Two Medical Bags Filled With Supplies For 8 Emergency Casualties and a Field Hospital [0/1]
* Bring Enough Supply For Yourself
* You Have a C-17 Standing By For A Jump (Parachute Provided)
“Well,” I muttered, taking a deep breath and checking my inventory, “looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
Before heading to the airfield, I made a quick stop at Wilhelm’s depot. If anyone could get me the supplies I needed in a pinch, it was him. Besides, there was no other supply store inside of this small village. I got out of the guild building as quickly as possible.
The morning was still early, yet, the sound of clinking metal and muttered curses filled the air as I approached his counter. Wilhelm glanced up, his eyes narrowing in that familiar mix of annoyance and curiosity.
"Back again, angel?" he said, leaning on the counter. "What do you need this time?"
"Medical supplies," I replied, placing a list on the counter. "Enough to fill two bags for eight emergency casualties. And I need it now."
He wasn’t sure what he needed to provide, but he had a general idea, "Two bags, huh? Trauma kits, healing potions, sedatives… are you planning to patch up a war zone or start one? Anyway, can you be more specific on what you need?"
"I need advanced hemorrhage control—arterial tourniquets, hemostats, and combat gauze impregnated with clotting agents. I’m not sure I can rely entirely on my healing spell. Also, include a few vials of high-grade healing potions for rapid tissue regeneration and, if it exists, combat stims for psionic regeneration."
Wilhelm nodded, jotting it down. "How about painkillers?"
"Fentanyl, ketamine, and midazolam, all in prefilled syringes. Add dexamethasone for systemic inflammation control and vasopressors like epinephrine or norepinephrine for shock management. I’ll need fast-acting stimulants too, preferably injectables, for sustained combat performance."
"Anything else?" he asked, his pen poised.
"Portable vital signs monitor—ruggedized, capable of tracking BP, ECG, SpO2, and respiratory rate. Throw in airway management tools: endotracheal tubes, bag-valve masks, and nasopharyngeal airways, just in case of severe trauma. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m walking into, so I want to be ready."
Wilhelm smirked. "Sounds like you’re gearing up for hell. Give me five minutes." He disappeared into the back, leaving me to mentally double-check my needs.
It sounded about right. I still had more than enough ammunition, 2,000 ish rounds from the loot I gathered previously were still there, I doubted I needed more than that amount of rounds to survive the onslaught of whatever was thrown against the task force.
Still, why does it require me to jump from a moving airplane? That smelled like trouble, if I have to be honest.
Wilhelm emerged from the back, hefting two duffel bags onto the counter. They were the military kind, rugged and durable, with large red-cross patches stitched on top for easy identification.
“These should do the trick,” he said, patting one of the bags. “Everything you asked for, packed and ready. Hemorrhage control, anesthetics, stims, and all the other goodies. I even threw in a couple of extra healing potions and syringes—on the house. Right, the total is 12,000 UC.”
I nodded, inspecting the bags briefly. The weight of them told me they were loaded to the brim, but I trusted Wilhelm’s attention to detail. “Thanks. This should cover it.”
I put the two duffle bags into my inventory.
[Inventory - 140/225 kg] [254,947 UC]
* 3,000x 5.56x45 NATO [2,400x M885A1; 480x FMJ, 120x M995]
* 1,200x 7.62x51 NATO [1,200x M80]
* 500x .338 Norma Magnum [500x FMJ]
* 90x 9x19 [60x HP; 30x FMJ]
* 8x Bar of Snickers
* Leatherman Multitool
* 5x MREs
* 30x Gelatinous Substance
* 2x Medic Bags
* Eleanor’s Pudding Recipe
[Weapons][Vehicles][Armor/Equipment]
“You sure you’ve got everything?” he asked again.
“I think I have all of them,” I answered.
“Good luck, angel,” Wilhelm said.
I rushed out of the depot and sprinted toward the airfield. The C-17 was already lined up, its turbojets roaring in anticipation of takeoff. I rushed towards the airfield gate and ran towards the back ramp of the C-17.
To my surprise, three people were already inside the cargo hold of the aircraft. One was a masked man, another was an elf, and the third... was someone I recognized—David. He was fully outfitted in high-tech tactical gear that covered his entire body, with a helmet that obscured his face. The only way I could tell it was him was by the identification tag I spotted and the unmistakable horns protruding from his head.
[David - Demonic Necromancer - Level 75]
[Case - ??? - Level 120]
[Jane - Elf Assault Engineer - Level 90]
“Wait, you are our fellow contractor? This is kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” the elf commented the moment I stepped my feet in the aircraft.
“We can try our luck, I bet, hope in, Ain,” David said, commanding me.
I stepped deeper into the aircraft. The cargo ramp slowly closed and the aircraft began to move into the runway. I strapped myself into the nearest seat. Inside the cargo airplane, there was one single cargo palette, containing weapons and other supplies.
David sat down right next to me while Case and Jane sat down on the opposite side of the airplane. Jane gave me a skeptical look. I was merely a level 10 while Jane was way higher than me. Still, at the very least, the man right next to me didn’t complain a thing.
“By the way, Ain, we’re dropping in a hot zone, so, make sure you’re ready. Have you ever jumped before?” David asked.
I shook my head.
"Ah, well, you should’ve already built up the muscle memory from the moment you were reincarnated into this world anyway," David shrugged.
It was a moment too late to question it, but still—what had I gotten myself into?