SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP!

’No time to waste. This wet smell of grass… there should be dense vegetation nearby. If that’s the case, then it makes sense the beasts aren’t roaming the open plains.’

Moving in the direction of the wind, Bruce spoke calmly. “More info.”

The smart bracelet responded immediately, projecting another hologram from its pinhole. Lines of blue light hovered in the air before him.

[Ranks Attainable in This Test: F — C]

[To attain these ranks, you must reach the following total points by the end of all three trials. Each rank comes with its own license bonus.]

[Rank F] — 1,000 Points]

[Rank E] — 1,500 Points]

[Rank D] — 2,000 Points]

[Rank C] — 2,500 Points]

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the projection. Then a faint smile crept across his lips.

“Points, huh…” he murmured.

He was glad. Points meant rewards, and in this system, rewards meant money.

As much as he wanted to hunt beasts for experience, his mind was already working on a far darker strategy.

His main goal wasn’t just to hunt.

It was to kill.

Every participant here was a walking treasure chest of points. Killing them meant taking everything they’d gathered. But there was no need to rush. Not yet.

He decided the fourth day would be perfect. By then, everyone would’ve had enough time to accumulate points—at least a thousand each.

That would make the hunt worthwhile.

’Let’s say there are a hundred recruits, and each manages to collect around a thousand points,’ Bruce thought, calculating quickly. ’That’s a hundred thousand points total. Not bad… but still not enough.’

He sighed softly, thinking it through.

’Even if someone reaches Rank C, that’s only twenty-five hundred points… at most, two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins. It’s good, but not good enough.’

His eyes gleamed faintly.

’If I want to truly maximize my earnings, I need to find and hunt S-ranked beasts. Their value will be far greater. Even if I only kill a few, the boost will be massive.’

The thought made him chuckle under his breath, a low, dangerous sound that faded into the wind.

’The fourth day will be… interesting,’ he mused, his tone cold but almost amused. ’By then, my name will spread across the trial grounds as the villain of this test.’

A faint, crooked smile formed on his face.

“That day,” he muttered, “will be my human hunting day.”

His grin widened slightly before he waved his wrist and dismissed the hologram. The light faded, vanishing into the air.

Then he raised his wrist again. “Ranking.”

The hologram returned instantly, displaying a list of names and numbers.

[Rankings…]

[Sophie Reign — Points: 5]

[Ozai Thorne — Points: 4]

[Aria Stormheart — Points: 2]

[Duke Hughes — Points: 2]

[Dominic Savior — Points: 1]

[Luke Drot — Points: 1]

[Bale Las — Points: 0]

Bruce’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Five minutes…” he whispered. “Not even five minutes have passed, and they’re already gathering points?”

A brief flash of shock crossed his expression before it hardened into focus.

“Here I am… lazing around.”

He clenched his fist, letting out a low exhale before suddenly blurring into motion. The ground beneath his feet cracked lightly from the force of his acceleration as he shot forward, the wind whipping past his face.

He followed the direction of the wind—the faint, wet scent of rich vegetation growing stronger with every step.

Minutes later, the landscape shifted before him.

Ahead lay a patch of greener land, a rare oasis of life amid the dry expanse.

And there, moving slowly between the tall grasses, he spotted them.

A small herd of herbivore mutants.

Bronze-Horned Goats.

Their sleek bodies glimmered faintly under the sun, bronze-tinted horns catching the light. Each movement radiated a quiet strength; they were cautious, alert, but unaware of the predator now approaching.

Bruce’s hand moved slowly to his weapon. The faint shimmer of his dagger caught the sunlight.

His heartbeat steadied. His mind sharpened. He was ready.

The goats were massive, each one standing over two meters tall, taller than Bruce by a few centimeters.

They looked like hulking buffaloes, their bodies broad and muscular, their bronze-tinted horns gleaming under the sunlight. This was why they were called mutants—beasts that had evolved far beyond their natural counterparts.

These were not ordinary animals. They were creatures reshaped by mana.

Mutant beasts were versions of normal species whose physical strength, speed, and durability had multiplied severalfold depending on their level. Some even possessed elemental affinities; those were called Awakened mutants, far more dangerous than their unawakened kin.

Yes, beasts awakened too.

Some were natives of this world, evolving naturally as they adapted to the mana-saturated environment. Others were born from dungeon outbreaks, when neglected dungeons collapsed and their creatures spilled into the wild. These variants often carried unstable mutations, stronger, faster, and far more feral.

Bruce crouched low behind the dry grass, his gaze locked on the grazing herd ahead. The faint smell of warm air and vegetation filled his lungs as he exhaled slowly, steadying his heartbeat.

He made as little noise as possible while planning his ambush.

Then, without hesitation, he moved.

The wind shifted with his motion.

His dagger flashed, slicing through the air in clean arcs. Though he wasn’t an expert in weapon mastery, Bruce wasn’t inexperienced either. Against beasts that relied purely on brute strength and instinct, technique was secondary to precision.

The Bronze-Horned Goats were powerful, but simple-minded. Their only tactics were ramming and stampedes, relying on their size and momentum.

A fatal weakness.

Bruce sidestepped their linear charges with ease, his movements fluid and efficient. His dagger hummed faintly as mana flowed through the blade, turning each strike into a cutting beam of power.

He twisted aside as one goat lunged, the ground shaking beneath its hooves. In a blur, his blade found its neck, clean, sharp, final.

SPURT-!

Blood sprayed across the grass, the copper scent mixing with the hot air.

Another beast fell. Then another.

The herd’s strength became its downfall—their lack of intelligence made them easy prey. Bruce moved like a shadow between their chaotic movements, slashing, dodging, and cutting until several lay lifeless at his feet.

Just as he was finishing off the last of the pack, a sound echoed through the savannah.

A deep, wild laugh that didn’t belong to any human.

Bruce froze for half a heartbeat, lifting his head toward the horizon.

In the vast distance, where the golden plains met the pale blue sky, he spotted a moving silhouette.

It was moving toward him, a guttural laughing sound echoing from its maw, tongue lolling to the side as thick saliva dripped from its fangs.