UHNA 05

Chapter 05

 Surviving as an F-Rank Healer

“Alright, everyone, take a seat.”

Just as everyone started gathering and introducing themselves one by one, the homeroom teacher—a well-looking man wearing silver-rimmed glasses—entered the room.

Once everyone was seated, the teacher spoke.

“Since it’s the first day, I’ll just go over the announcements, then we’ll do self-introductions and dismiss.”

“Ooooh!”

“Welcome to Hunter Academy. You all should have your Awakener Certificates, but as you know, you must graduate from the academy and receive a Hunter License to operate properly as a Hunter. You also know that you need at least a D-rank to get the license. This has been the rule since the day of the apocalypse when the S-rank dungeon appeared. It’s based on a global agreement that if your rank is too low, you’re practically no different from a civilian in a dungeon.”

He glanced at me for a moment.

Then he continued nonchalantly.

“Even if you become a Hunter, you really need to be at least C-rank for your survival rate to be meaningful. The graduation requirements at Narin Academy also specify that you need to have achieved C-rank or equivalent performance. So, put in the effort. That’s the only way your future will be promising.”

It was exactly what had been said in the original story.

“This class… currently the highest rank is C. There are also useless F-ranks.”

The homeroom teacher’s gaze, checking the attendance sheet, flicked toward me again.

Then, pretending not to notice, he quietly muttered as if speaking to himself.

“They’ll die soon.”

He must have noticed the photo too, right?

Since this world is reorganized around abilities rather than human rights, he seems completely unbothered saying something like that.

I saw the others glance around at the mention of F-rank.

I maintained a faint smile while casually watching the protagonist’s reaction.

They muttered something in disbelief—probably “Was there really an F-rank?”—and then sighed, shaking their heads.

It was kind of funny.

After reciting a few more announcements with a neutral face, the teacher slammed the attendance book shut and said:

“Now, let’s do introductions. I’ll go first. I’m Choi Ji-hyung, a B-rank gardener.”

The “Ooooh” from B-rank was replaced by a disappointed sound when he said gardener.

‘Honest reactions.’

But those reactions were from people who didn’t know better.

That teacher would later join the protagonist’s party.

After the fourth apocalypse dungeon, when almost all the students died.

“Ability to freely manipulate plants. Also hid the rank.”

That person is probably A-rank.

Adult Awakeners often hide part of their rank.

Hiding 30% of your ability is advantageous for survival.

Considering that, it means he’s currently at least an A-rank support dealer specializing in plants, which…

“Introduce yourselves from the front left. Go.”

Meaning, don’t mess around.

I tidied my expression carefully to look polite.

Then I waited for my turn.

“My name is Lee Si-hyun! I’m a C-rank psychokinetic, but I prefer moving my body around! Nice to meet you all!”

A student, after saying “Nice to meet you,” lifted their desk using psychokinesis and set it back down with a grin.

I squinted at the youthful audacity.

Do I have to do introductions like that?

Ah, Eva.

“Hello. I’m Lee Sang-hee… my, my ability is a D-rank barrier. I’m still a bit clumsy, so I get trapped between barriers more often than not… but I also have things I’m good at… uh… yes…”

Sang-hee demonstrated getting stuck between barriers while speaking.

Are they all doing this?

Was it like this in the original too?

I was slightly flustered, almost letting my expression slip, but I held it together.

Finally, it was the protagonist’s turn.

“Yoo Han-seong. D-rank dark attribute mage.”

I refocused and examined him carefully.

He let black magic flow briefly through his hands, then extinguished it, speaking in a casual tone:

“I dislike bothersome tasks and like valuable people.”

Already afflicted by the protagonist disease, huh?

Nope, just classic maxed-out aggro passive protagonist behavior.

And he was handsome enough that it didn’t even bother me.

Hair black as night due to an attribute buff, eyes silver-gray shining like stars, a body rebuilt perfectly after regression, skin white and translucent like jade, and perfectly balanced facial features.

His slightly upturned eyes had a corner that subtly affected your mood if you stared too long.

‘I wonder what his charm stat is.’

Right now, he’s only D-rank, and his stats are probably only half of what they were pre-regression, yet he still looks that way.

I don’t remember the exact numbers, but he was close to max level before regression.

“So don’t touch me.”

Ah, still…

…But look at Lee Sang-hee’s eyes lighting up.

That was clearly the kind of line that melts the heart of a typical yandere female character.

Within moments, the protagonist drew everyone’s attention and sat down.

I diverted my gaze and chose my words carefully to make a good first impression.

The second rule for achieving my goals here: Don’t be intimidated.

Then I won’t be a sucker, bait, or shield; instead, I’ll be remembered in the protagonist’s reflection as “There was this F-rank friend who did their best back then.”

“I’m Jin Ha-ri. F-rank, healer.”

Of course, moderately, just the right amount.

“I’m glad to be in the same class. Please take care of me this year.”

In a calm but very clear and audible tone.

I didn’t get to demonstrate a skill, so I might stand out a bit.

With a subtle awkwardness lingering, I quietly took my seat.

A week passed after that.

And I thought:

‘Aren’t they supposed to be Hunters? They’re way tamer than in the original story.’

Moreover, each of them carried a streak of justice; it’s fresh, admirable, and cute.

‘…How can I watch them get hurt?’

Even though I cursed sometimes, I was a devoted fan of the original story.

It was natural that I had a basic affection for this world and its people.

After observing underage Hunters who couldn’t even think of doing anything cruel for about a week, I couldn’t help but feel protective.

Because, you know, most of them die in the story.

‘I really hope they don’t die.’

Not as a fan of the original, but because I can’t be indifferent to kids about to die.

Of course, I couldn’t do anything actively.

The best I could think of was to seriously, extremely, work on improving my potion-making skills.

‘Fortunately, Awakeners in this world can grow.’

F-rank has growth limitations even if miracles happen, which is a problem.

But since everyone is fighting with their lives to protect the world, and in the long run, I’d benefit too, my motivation soared even higher.

‘It’s something I was going to do anyway, so let’s do it properly.’

There are some top-grade potions necessary to prevent the apocalypse, and I’m going to make them!

I was wondering how to acquire and deliver them at the right time. Making them myself seemed best.

‘Not sure if I can manage that yet.’

No harm in trying.

Even if something goes wrong while honing my crafting skills, it’s better than getting exposed as bait in a dungeon.

Once I decided, the guilt I had felt as a bystander lessened slightly.

‘Healing is too low-rank to be meaningful, but potions will be rewarding if I practice.’

No choice. I have to work hard.

Also, making them myself seemed more feasible than trying to obtain rare special potions. Buying the potions the protagonists need would require a lot of money.

‘Well, it’s not meddling anyway. Improving my skills will help my shop later.’

But.

There’s something I need to handle before rolling:

One is creating a situation where it’s not strange to give healing or share potions.

Even without any special relationship, it’s easier to give potions to the protagonists if people believe you distribute potions well.

The other issue is insufficient magic power.

I have a solution for that.

Today, I’m just waiting for the right situation to form to build that image.

‘Someone better come and provoke me.’

If they knew I was F-rank, passing Awakeners might come back to test me.

Is it because points are at stake?

Or are other classes just as docile as Class 8?

For some reason, no one comes to make a fuss about an F-rank.

I remember Jin Ha-ri went through a lot of rough experiences before entering the academy.

Just as I was feeling a little disappointed,

“Wahaha, I heard there’s an F-rank here?”

The door creaked open, and a group of delinquents entered.

I forced myself to hide my excitement and turned to look at them.

“Hey, I’ve never seen an F-rank healer in my life. Who are you?”