A Hospital in Another World? C.229

Garrett worked hard for a full two months. From the refreshing breeze of late August to the chilly nights of late October, working twelve hours a day, he still hadn’t produced penicillin.

Of course, his achievements in other areas were quite abundant:

Various dyes, mixed with acid, alkali, heated back and forth, were thoroughly experimented with, yielding a batch of new substances. If he were willing to sell them to the Alchemy Guild, he could probably fetch a good price—unfortunately, Garrett was too lazy to organize them for sale, considering it a waste of time;

He had fulfilled his promise regarding the ten pathogenic bacteria from the Black Crow Swamp, isolating, purifying, and cultivating them. Animal experiments and experimental records were all completed, ready to be submitted for completion;

The barbarians had gained weight—a circle. With only so many materials left for making culture media every day, most of the remaining beef, lamb, seaweed, and sea anemones were consumed by the barbarians...

The only worry was that there had been no progress on penicillin.

Therefore, Garrett hesitated to conclude the project. What a joke! What if those folks from the Black Crow Swamp got too excited during the experiments, haphazardly breeding and spreading these infectious bacteria, and actually caused an epidemic? Relying on divine magic for treatment was clearly futile. The outbreak of bacterial dysentery in Hartland City made that abundantly clear. By then, having a bottle of antibiotics on hand would be the confidence to suppress the plague!

"Bernard—go farther tomorrow and see if there are any specks or patches of green mold. Whether it grows on the ground, on books, or on various fruit peels, scrape some back for me!"

"Yes, boss!"

"Buy another pile of fruits and let them decay! "

"No... no problem, boss."

"Put another brazier in the room where the fruits are placed, make it warmer, otherwise the mold won’t grow. Oh, and don’t stay in that room for too long, it’s not good to stay in the moldy room for too long! Go to another room to warm up!"

"Is that really necessary, boss? I’m very strong! I don’t need to warm up on a day like this!"

"Don’t worry about saving money for me. We’re not short of a few pieces of charcoal..."

"Boss! Someone’s knocking at the door outside! I’ll go see!" frёeωebɳovel.com

The barbarian ran off. After a moment, he returned, moving his tall figure aside, and Mage Worton smiled and stepped forward, holding an envelope:

"Boss!"

"Why are you here?"

Garrett lifted his head from the notebook, surprised: "Didn’t I tell you not to come often? Didn’t I already receive the disinfectant today?"

Yes, since Garrett started the bacterial cultivation project, his second follower, Level 5 Mage Aurora Worton, had been kicked out of the lab... In Garrett’s words:

"Your research direction is not biomedical! You’re a plastic mage. Spending so much time on this is no good for you! Besides, working here is troublesome, wearing gloves and taking them off, wearing protective clothing and taking them off, a bunch of rules! Come on, go back to the mage tower!"

Plastic mages have no concept of aseptic operation, and their skills in biomedicine... judging by their attempts to make chlorine gas and then poisoning themselves, they’re probably not even as good as undergraduates. If they accidentally spill a few culture dishes or Erlenmeyer flasks, well, Emma, it wouldn’t be enough trouble for them.

So, Mage Worton’s only responsibility was to deliver newly prepared disinfectant to the laboratory.

Two large barrels. One for showering, one for mopping the floor.

Aurora stood in front of the table with a piece of paper, looking dejected, her golden hair dimmed by two points. Garrett thought for a moment, took out a notebook from the right drawer, flipped to the bookmarked page, glanced at it, and asked:

"Since you’re here today—how are the various iodine compounds coming along? How about researching flame magic using various combustible gases as spell materials? How’s your research on alumina going?"

"...Boss, I’m here to deliver an invitation..."

He handed over the envelope. The envelope was made of smooth dark blue cardboard, nearly black, with scattered silver dust shimmering on it. At first glance, it looked like the night sky about to fall.

There were no words on the outside of the envelope, only a solitary emblem shining in the center. However, even this emblem was impossible for anyone to ignore.

Outer double-circle ring. Inner hexagram. Inside the space cut by the hexagram, there were symbols of various times, materials, elements, and metals. In the center of the hexagram, there was a black-and-white eye, alert and sleepless day and night.

The emblem of the "Arcane" journal.

On the back of the envelope, the deep red wax seal was also embossed with the same emblem. Garrett broke the wax seal, poured out the letter, and on the pure white paper, beautiful cursive letters appeared line by line, like vines:

"Mr. Garrett Nordmark:

Due to your publication in the ’Arcane’ journal in the past year, and your important research achievements in the field of plastic magic,

You are invited to attend the Annual Academic Conference of the Bridge Magic Academy on November 5th at 9 a.m., and the Annual Young Mage Award Ceremony.

Arcane Editorial Office"

Huh?

Attend the academic conference?

Garrett subconsciously looked at the calendar. November 5th... what day is it today? Without regular work hours, no weekends, naturally no festive holidays and triple pay. Except for writing the date when recording experiments, the date meant nothing to him...

His question was quickly answered. Aurora leaned over, quickly read through the invitation on his hand, and exclaimed with admiration:

"Wow, boss, it’s an invitation to the Arcane annual conference! Even the teachers only attend twice! Boss, can you take me with you? By the way, boss, do you have formal wear? If not, let’s go out together. There are still 5 days before the conference. We can make clothes now! And there’s also the award ceremony! You’ll definitely get an award if you’re invited!"

Garrett covered his ears with his head in his hands.

Who is following who?... Even if there’s one person who should play the role of Tang Seng, it should be me!

Of course, attending the academic conference was necessary, strolling around the streets was also necessary, and formal wear—was also necessary. After all, the "Arcane" journal had a much higher status than publications like "Gold Rush". According to Aurora’s explanation, magicians who receive invitations to the Arcane annual conference, unless they are legends, generally attend as invited guests...

And the schedule of the Arcane Academic Conference was much more serious than that of the Gold Rush conference. The Gold Rush would start at 10 a.m., and everyone would arrive at the venue at seven or eight in the morning, setting up stalls in the empty hall for two hours. The lively and bustling scene was still vivid in Garrett’s memory.

However, the Arcane

Academic Conference required everyone to check-in a day in advance due to magicians coming from various places. After check-in, if there were magicians from out of town who needed accommodation, the conference organizer—actually, they borrowed the administrative structure of the academy—would also make arrangements.

So, in the afternoon of November 4th, the Bridge Magic Academy was bustling with the arrival of many young magicians.

"Garrett! —Is that Garrett?"

Garrett put down the pen, straightened up from the check-in table, and heard someone shouting his name from a distance. He turned his head in the direction of the voice, and a brown-haired magician was already excitedly approaching through the crowd:

"Long time no see! Are you still in Nevis? What are you doing there?"

"... Miles."

Garrett shook his head, trying hard to match the face with the person. The person who came was his classmate from the training class. Later, he joined the Illusion School. At the beginning of the year, when he just developed ultrasound magic, Garrett had dinner with him.

That time everyone complained that the foie gras wasn’t fat enough, Miles went to the goose cage himself, and even gave the white goose a peck... It’s no wonder he didn’t recognize him. Miles had grown much taller since the beginning of the year, and Garrett didn’t dare to recognize him!

"Long time no see, you’ve grown so tall!" Garrett smiled with surprise, comparing their heights with his hand. After such a long time of seclusion, it was rare to meet an acquaintance, and he was still a little happy:

"Shall we go eat together?"

"Let’s go, let’s go! So many people are coming to tomorrow’s conference!" Miles led him out: "Everyone is at the back door of that shop. Let’s go, let’s get together!"

At the entrance of each college—or the back entrance, mostly the back entrance—there were almost always a row of restaurants. The magical academies in the other world were no exception. When students were tired of the cafeteria food or wanted to have a meal together, these convenient, inexpensive, and rich-tasting restaurants became their first choice.

Because they were for magicians, even if they were apprentice magicians or low-level magicians, the consumption level of this restaurant street was acceptable. At the very least, there was meat at every meal. But when it came to "that shop at the back door," it was the default only one in the mouths of students and training class members:

On the right side of the back door, the third storefront, with the sign "Magician’s Home" attached to the back wall of the academy.

The owner of this shop was a smiling old man from the north who had lived in the local area for twenty years and his accent had become almost indistinguishable from that of the locals. However, in terms of cuisine, he still retained some northern characteristics—generous portions, students coming to eat, and always giving more meat. So at meal times, both upstairs and downstairs were full, and you could even sit all the way down to the corner of the stairs.

Following behind Miles, Garrett squeezed through a long stretch of the road before finally squeezing into a seat by the window on the second floor. By this time, the table was already full of people, all of whom were outstanding students from the training class who were able to stay in Nevis. Seeing Garrett arrive, everyone waved their hands and greeted him enthusiastically:

"Garrett, you’re here! Sit inside!"

"Long time no see! I heard you joined the Thunder Horn, which great mage’s apprentice are you under? I specifically went to the peak last time but didn’t hear about you..."

"I heard you went to the Gold Rush annual meeting..."

"The food is here! Make some room to the side! Chris, don’t stand up first—"

"Watch out!!!"