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

Holding the line against them stood a single man.

He was bulky, red haired and broad-shouldered, muscles packed densely beneath battered armor that bore the scars of countless clashes. In his hands rested a gigantic greatsword, the blade alone taller than most men.

CLANG!

Steel met chitin head-on as the greatsword slammed into a mantis’ scythe-like foreleg. Sparks exploded outward, metal screaming as shockwaves rippled across the ground, cracking stone beneath their feet.

The man gritted his teeth and held his ground, boots digging into fractured earth as he endured the impact through sheer force of will.

Bruce, knowing the guy would need some help with that, released his SS Aura, then something changed.

The mantis the man had just clashed with trembled violently. Its bladed limbs shook, mandibles clicking erratically as raw fear flooded its instincts.

The man frowned instantly.

“…What?”

However, he didn’t hesitate. Mana surged through his body and poured into the greatsword, the weapon igniting with a roaring red aura that crawled along its edge like living flame.

With a powerful roar, he swung. The blade cleaved cleanly through the mantis’ neck, its head flying free as the body collapsed.

Before it even hit the ground, the man followed through, releasing a massive crescent of red mana that tore forward, ripping through a cluster of mantises frozen in terror and slicing them apart in a single, brutal sweep.

Bodies fell.

Limbs scattered.

The battlefield went eerily still.

Calm footsteps echoed behind him.

Bruce walked past the man without slowing, his expression indifferent as he headed straight for the dungeon portal a few meters ahead. Every remaining beast froze completely, not one daring to move, not one daring to breathe as their instincts screamed a single truth.

Death had arrived.

“I’m going in,” Bruce said casually, his voice calm, almost bored.

The bulky man turned sharply, eyes widening as he finally got a clear look at him.

“…You’re Bruce?” he asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.

Bruce didn’t stop walking.

“Yes,” he replied simply.

He stepped forward and entered the portal, his figure swallowed by distorted space as the pressure vanished instantly.

The man stared at the portal for a long moment before exhaling slowly.

“So he’s already ranked up…” Gunther muttered under his breath, gripping his greatsword tighter. “He’s even more monstrous than Bale said he is.”

His gaze hardened as he turned back toward the remaining breakout creatures.

“Anomaly indeed…”

A quiet sigh escaped him.

’…I really am unworthy of that title, compared to someone with such terrifying progression speed.’

Gunther knew it.

He had just met the current holder of the Anomaly title, Bruce. The one Bale spoke so much about as of recent.

And Bruce.

Had unknowingly met the previous one.

Meanwhile, as Bruce passed through the dungeon portal, he let out a slow, controlled breath.

Even with the strength he possessed now, this was still a new dungeon, one whose rank hadn’t even been appraised yet. Under normal circumstances, the optimal course of action, even for someone like him, would have been to hold the line outside alongside that man and wait for reinforcements to arrive.

But Bruce couldn’t do that.

Not when something inside the dungeon was releasing an aura so oppressive it made his instincts scream in warning. It was unmistakably SSS-Ranked, but at the same time, it felt wrong. Heavier. Sharper. More malignant. Far more terrifying than a normal SSS-Ranked presence should be. It dwarfed the pressure Bane had once released back then, when Bruce and Sophie had confronted him, surpassing it several times over.

And while the thought itself was baseless, pure instinct with no concrete evidence, Bruce couldn’t shake the feeling that this presence was tied to the consecutive dungeon breakouts that had erupted across the surrounding area.

Which meant one thing.

Someone had to go in.

And that someone was him.

The moment he fully entered the dungeon, the weight of the world slammed down on him.

One hundred thousand tons of gravity crashed onto his body without warning.

The ground beneath his feet cratered instantly, stone collapsing inward as spiderweb cracks tore outward in every direction. The crushing pressure tried to force him to his knees, to grind him into the earth, but Bruce’s body, tempered, reinforced, and pushed far beyond normal limits, held firm. The weight barely registered beyond a slight reduction in speed, as though he were moving through denser air rather than being subjected to cataclysmic force.

The portal shimmered faintly behind him.

Then his eyes widened.

In front of him, the dungeon erupted.

Gigantic praying mantis mutants surged forward all at once, attacking en masse with terrifying coordination. Their towering bodies blurred as they moved, speed completely disproportionate to their size. Serrated forelegs scythed through the air, slicing toward him from every angle, each strike precise, lethal, and perfectly timed.

And what truly set Bruce on edge,

There were no weak ones.

Unlike every dungeon he had encountered so far, this place held no A-Ranked beasts. No cannon fodder. No lesser variants meant to be culled.

Every single one of them was S-Ranked.

Even the ones at the very front, the so-called foot soldiers.

Bruce’s expression sharpened instantly.

’…This is going to be rough, this dungeon is definitely higher than S-Rank.’

He didn’t waste even a fraction of a second.

His aura surged as Red manifested in his hand in its dagger form, the crimson edge flashing sharply as Bruce moved. He stepped forward and slashed, the blade carving through the mantises closest to him with ruthless precision. Bodies split apart mid-charge, green blood and viscous ichor spraying through the air as their momentum carried them past him in broken, collapsing pieces.

In the same breath, Red shifted.

The dagger elongated and thickened, metal unfolding and locking into place with a heavy mechanical resonance as it transformed into its bazooka form.

Bruce planted his feet.

Mana flooded the weapon.

Dense, violent, compressed mana poured into the barrel, condensing further and further until the air itself screamed under the pressure. A spiraling mass of pure mana took shape, stabilizing violently as its glow intensified, warping the surrounding space as if reality itself were buckling beneath its presence.

The mantises didn’t slow.

They charged straight at him.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed.

And he fired.