Samsara Space: They're all begging me to heal them one more time.

After the Iron Wall Squad left, Ah Qiang watched Lao Xiong and the others walk away, and couldn't help but click his tongue, his face full of admiration and envy.

"Boss, you're awesome."

Ah Qiang gave a thumbs up, "Just by hiding in the back and adding buffs, they can rake in a whopping 30% of the profits? That's an incredible advantage... It's unbelievable. It makes me want to change careers."

Zhang Yuan put down his teacup, looking at him with a half-smile: "So, you want me to play support? Will you play?"

"I'm not playing! I'd rather die than play!"

Ah Qiang shook his head vigorously, answering without hesitation, "It's more reassuring to have your life in your own hands. Entrusting your back to someone else? I'm afraid of having a heart attack."

This is actually a very real "auxiliary paradox" in the Train of the Gods:

Why is it that despite the support class's superior status, we still see very few healers? It's as if everyone is struggling in the damage-dealing arena and unwilling to explore new markets.

There are three main reasons.

First, there is the developmental gap caused by the "contribution trap".

The system's scoring mechanism is extremely realistic: if you kill the BOSS with one strike, that's a real "destruction" rating.

You give your teammate 5 strength points, and your teammate kills the BOSS. In the system's judgment algorithm, the support often only gets an awkward "friendship assistance score". The reward points are very few. They can only get the leftovers from their teammates. The final task settlement evaluation is far inferior to that of the DPS class.

Low returns mean no money to upgrade skills, no money to upgrade skills means low skill levels, insufficient healing means no one will team up with you, and no one will easily die in quests.

This results in the vast majority of newcomers who want to take the support role dying in the early stages of the game before they can even develop their skills.

Secondly, there is the crisis of trust under the "Dark Forest Theory".

This is an infinite world full of betrayal and killing, not like playing League of Legends where you can pick a Yuumi and attach her to a teammate. If the teammate isn't good enough, you can always play the next game.

Here, turning your back to someone else is not just a tactical choice, but a huge gamble.

As a healer with no ability to protect yourself, you can only pray that your teammates are kind-hearted people who won't push you out as bait when encountering a zombie horde.

Similarly, damage dealers don't dare to easily entrust their lives to wild supports—what if, at a crucial moment, the support deliberately doesn't heal you in order to reduce the number of people sharing the loot, or even applies a weakness effect on you? Who can you complain to then?

Unless they are inseparable best friends in real life, such a "life-or-death" contract is simply impossible to establish.

Even if you find trustworthy teammates along the way, everyone's upgrade path is basically set. You can't just reset your skill points and switch to being a healer halfway through, right?

Finally, and most cruelly, is the "poverty threshold."

This is what is often said in the real world: the poor have no room for error.

D-rank Reincarnators are essentially a group of gamblers struggling on the brink of death; one wrong move and they could be "killed" by the Train of the Heavens.

A decent blue weapon, a bulletproof vest that can withstand stray bullets, a bottle of life-saving medical spray—each of these costs money, and you have to save every penny you have.

For them, every reward point must be converted into immediate, visible combat power—either armor that can withstand one more blow or a bullet that can kill an enemy with one shot.

Investment assistance? That's a game for the rich, a trap for the middle class.

A high-level support skill book can easily cost several thousand points, which can drain an entire team. Not to mention that the effects of Lv.1 support skills are mediocre, and you still have to deal with the bottomless pit of level enhancement.

Once you invest your limited resources in the "support" role, which is a money-devouring beast, it means your front line loses a bulletproof vest and your damage dealers lose a magazine of high-explosive shells.

When facing aliens, zombies, or monsters like Lu Bu, that tiny difference in stats often means the difference between life and death.

Whether your defense is strong enough will determine whether you survive with a sliver of health or die instantly when Lu Bu strikes with his halberd.

If it's the former, a wet nurse can save you; if it's the latter, no matter how much milk you produce, you can only nurse a dead body.

Who would dare to gamble the entire team's lives on a promising dream?

For this reason, true professional support roles may only appear on high-level trains with overflowing resources in the future.

At least for now, in the D-tier where the "poverty kill threshold" is crushing, it's no exaggeration to say that a support character who can tank, deal damage, and provide strong healing is extremely rare.

This is why a veteran team like "Iron Wall" would rather accept Zhang Yuan's opportunistic exploitation than find a reliable healer, forcing them to reluctantly accept the 30% "unequal treaty."

After the casual conversation, the tent finally fell completely quiet.

But this silence carried a chilling undertone.

"Boss, that old bear is right." Lin Qingyue's fingers lightly rested on the hilt of the knife, a cold smile playing on her lips. "There are rats outside...."

Zhang Yuan didn't speak, but simply took a sip of tea, his expression calm.

Just then, something unexpected happened!

In the once peaceful shadows of the tent, a pitch-black figure appeared silently behind Tao Tao, as if peeled from ink.

A dagger gleaming with green light silently slashed towards Tao Tao's throat!

Swift, accurate, and ruthless—this is definitely the work of a professional D-level assassin!

However, the seemingly unsuspecting little girl suddenly looked up and revealed a sweet smile.

"Got you~"

Pfft!

Underneath the carpet, several thick, dark green vines, as thick as pythons, suddenly burst forth from the ground!

New Skill: Summon Ironwood Vine!

The assassin was terrified and tried to retreat, only to find that his feet were instantly entangled by vines covered in barbs that pierced his flesh, paralyzing him and injecting toxins.

But he reacted extremely quickly, a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes, and black mist surged from his body.

"Substitution Jutsu!"

Bang!

The vines tightened suddenly, but all they shredded was a tattered piece of leather armor.

The real assassin had already transformed into a wisp of black smoke and appeared in mid-air three meters away.

He was covered in cold sweat, staring at the shattered armor on the ground with lingering fear: "Damn it! It was a trap! The intelligence was wrong, retreat!"

This group of people aren't lambs to the slaughter at all; they're Tyrannosaurus Rex in sheep's clothing! That little girl is a summoner, the woman wiping her knife next to her has an unfathomable aura, and that man who keeps drinking tea... It's all too eerie!

Without any hesitation, he lightly touched the air with his toes and shot towards the ventilation opening at the top of the tent like an arrow, so fast that he was left as a blur.

"Come and go as you please?"

A mocking snort exploded in his ear.

The assassin looked up in terror and saw a massive, all-encompassing mechanical hand slamming down with despairing wind pressure, like swatting a fly!

"Bang!"

The assassin was slapped from mid-air by A-Qiang and slammed heavily onto the floor, leaving him dazed and confused.

Before he could even get up, the hydraulically reinforced mechanical hand had already grabbed his neck and lifted him into the air like a chick.

"Dude, remember to use the front door next time."

Ah Qiang grinned, revealing his white teeth, as he looked at the prey thrashing about in his hand.

"Snap!"

With a sharp crack, the assassin's neck twisted at an eerie ninety-degree angle, and the corpse went limp like a rag doll.

Zhang Yuan didn't even turn his head, continuing to slowly sip his tea.

"Search them, then throw them out."

Zhang Yuan put down his teacup, stood up, and looked through the gap in the tent flap at the majestic Hulao Pass in the darkness in the distance, a hint of anticipation flashing in his eyes.

"Tell Cao Cao tomorrow that a demonic sorcerer from Dong Zhuo's army attacked the Imperial Preceptor at night, but he has been killed by the Guardian Vajra."

"As for now..."

He yawned and stretched.

"Go to sleep. Get plenty of rest, because tomorrow... I still have to teach that 'Number One in the World' a lesson."