A Hospital in Another World? C.221

A tailored magical equipment that matches the level?

The old man spoke generously, but as he spoke, he discreetly glanced at Garrett’s badge. Heavens, he better not make an outrageous demand...

"Matching the level" had two meanings: one was matching the mage’s level, meaning equipment the mage could currently use; the other was matching the arcane level, which usually wasn’t a big deal, but now it meant equipment of at least level 7 or 8.

Considering Garrett was only a second-level mage, it would be best if he could use this equipment immediately...

This also meant sealing a portion of magical power, following the mage’s growth in power, gradually unlocking it. The manufacturing difficulty was higher than that of ordinary level 7 or 8 magical items.

However, Garrett didn’t grasp the old man’s inner thoughts at all. After a brief hesitation, he took the feather pen the old man handed him and began to sketch:

"What I want is a large disc, one meter in diameter, embedded with silver rods that emit constant ’Everlasting Flames,’ or any other light source..."

"The embedding must be even. If possible, there should be a concave mirror behind the light source to reflect the light forward, so it won’t be wasted..."

"The number of light sources, their distance, the direction of embedding— all must be focused in multiple points to ensure that when the disc is suspended, there won’t be any shadows even if someone is operating underneath..."

"The light color must be pure white, and the brightness of the light source should be equivalent to the sunlight at noon..."

"Even if it’s not ’Everlasting Flames,’ it must be a cold light source that doesn’t emit heat, or else it will be very uncomfortable for people standing underneath..."

"The brightness of the light source should be adjustable, and which light sources are illuminated and which are not should also be adjustable. The size of the light spot can be adjusted to the size of a teacup, a bowl, or a basin, to meet the needs of different occasions..."

"There should be a large cover outside; otherwise, if blood splashes, it’s hard to clean..."

He spoke confidently, leaving no detail untouched. At first, the old man listened with a smile, but as he continued, circles of question marks seemed to appear in his eyes. Clearly, he couldn’t figure out what it was or what it could be used for. It wasn’t until he heard "blood splashes" that he finally exclaimed:

"What are you trying to create?! What is it for?! Why would blood splash?!"

"A shadowless lamp..." Garrett looked at him with an expectant gaze, tinged with accusation, as if blaming him for being so surprised, interrupting his speech:

"It’s used for surgeries, you know, to cut people open, and during the healing process and animal dissections, this thing comes in handy. Otherwise, there would be shadows under the hand and the knife, and nothing would be visible!"

At this point, Garrett became excited and turned the large sheet of paper "swish" in another direction. He pulled over another corner of the paper and quickly sketched a diagram of the light path:

"See this. The shadowless lamp is above, and the hand is here—no matter how you move, there are always a few rays of light shining below. Convenient, isn’t it? But the premise is that the direction of each light source must be subtly adjusted to achieve this effect..."

"Hmm..."

The old man rubbed his chin, lost in thought. The more he thought about it, the brighter his eyes became. "Makes sense, makes sense. It’ll be good when assembling magic puppets or making magical jewelry. If there’s such a big lamp shining, you won’t be blocked by shadows no matter how you work."

Those little needles, hammers, tweezers, they won’t poke or hit your hands anymore! No need to sneakily cast illumination spells in every nook and cranny!

This thing is useful. The old man looked eagerly at Garrett:

"Can this design be licensed to us? Can we sell it?"

"Sell—"

Garrett was momentarily taken aback. He looked at the old man with some annoyance:

"Wait, I’m not done yet! There are still many requirements!—This lamp, it needs to have a suspension arm that can adjust the height, can rotate horizontally, vertically, 360 degrees, and then maintain a fixed position;

The suspension arm must be supported on the base and not topple over;

There should preferably be wheels under the base, for easy dragging around;

Right! The entire base, suspension arm, and lamp must be easy to disinfect! It has to be made of metal! Smooth surface! I’ll give you a bucket of liquid later, pour it on top, and the metal shouldn’t corrode!"

The old man was about to collapse. As an alchemist, he had seen many strange requests along the way, but not many were as troublesome as this. Just the 360-degree rotating arm... it’s so troublesome, let me think, who is good at designing such things...

"This thing is so troublesome... The constant magic isn’t difficult, but these strange requests... Even if we don’t need a mage to do it, we need to hire a master craftsman, which is expensive..."

Garrett looked at him with a plaintive glance. It’s just a shadowless lamp; his requirements weren’t high, just a regular operating room shadowless lamp! In his previous life, they were sold online; a few thousand dollars each, installation included...

Single-headed, double-headed, petal-shaped, single-reflector, multi-hole, multi-focus, halogen light source, LED light source, take your pick.

Ah, the powerful industrial strength of the past, really lowered the cost of industrial products to a comfortable level...

But regardless, after weighing the options, the old man still accepted the custom task and negotiated the licensing agreement with Garrett. Considering the technical complexity of the shadowless lamp wasn’t high, and its application scenarios were limited, Garrett only asked for a 15% commission on the sales amount and a sample lamp. After the negotiation, both parties looked at each other and were suddenly stunned:

"Oh... the magical equipment we promised you... seems like we need to rethink it?"

"Yes!"

Garrett scratched his head. The old man stroked his beard. In the corner of the meeting room, a string of strange laughter emerged, with Aurora Worton covering her mouth with both hands, crouching at the table, laughing uncontrollably...

Garrett sighed and tapped the feather pen in frustration. With a snap, the pen snapped in half. Garrett threw the broken pen handle:

"So annoying! This feather pen is so useless!—Hey, can I order some pencils from you?"

"Pencils?... What’s that? Using lead to write? Lead can’t write!"

What? Even the Magic Council doesn’t have pencils? Garrett felt resentful. How poor is your scientific knowledge, even pencils haven’t been figured out? You’re supposed to change the world as a time-traveler, yet all you managed was a KPI assessment?

"Pencils... are made by mixing graphite powder and clay to form a pencil core shape, then hardened by firing in a fire. Then you can use it to write...

By the way, for convenience, it

’s best to use softwood to make a pencil holder, with a semi-circular groove on each side to clamp the pencil core!"

Garrett gestured. The old man continued to inquire, and he started to evade, constantly deflecting:

"The ratio of graphite powder to clay? I don’t know!

How high should the fire temperature be? How long to burn? I don’t know!

Which kind of softwood to use? Uh... maybe birch? Or lime? Just try one by one, use a knife to see if the wood can be carved!"

The old man’s face turned darker and darker. After repeatedly questioning and confirming that he couldn’t squeeze out any other information from Garrett, he finally pretended to be angry and slammed the table:

"You only have one idea, no specific formula, you can’t get a high commission! Such a simple thing! Even fools can make it!"

Garrett silently stared at him. Fools? Did you mean muggles can make it?

In summary, the authorization for pencils was negotiated at an exceptionally low commission—1 copper coin per pencil. In addition, Garrett would receive 100 pencils per month and a pencil sharpener.

Oh, and the conical-blade, square-boxed pencil sharpener was also designed by Garrett himself, using his magical tricks to temporarily shape it...

"So think of another magical equipment! Anything is fine, attacking, defending, moving... just don’t come up with something sellable again!"

Ugh, so tired! He’s a level 15 grand mage! Negotiating business deals with children himself!

If it weren’t for the interesting things Garrett came up with, with legendary mages lurking behind the scenes, would he bother? Dealing with business matters like this is usually handled by his students, or his students’ students!

Garrett smiled awkwardly. He checked his equipment:

"Well... I don’t currently lack anything... but, I have a follower who damaged his weapon during the battle with the Radiant Church. Could you help repair it?"

"A trivial matter! It’s settled then!"

The old man readily agreed. The battle with the Radiant Church was in September last year, when Garrett was still a level 1 mage, in a small rural area. What kind of follower could he have? At most, a level 5 knight. Repairing a level 5 knight’s weapon, let alone repairing it, wouldn’t cost much!

He generously handed over a badge:

"Take this, go to the first-floor task hall, and hand in the weapon to be repaired. The Alchemist Guild will naturally have someone responsible for the repairs. Remember to come back to collect it!"

Garrett thanked him profusely. He couldn’t wait until the next day; that afternoon, he descended from Igor Peak with Bernard again and headed straight for the vice tower belonging to the Transmutation School...

That evening, at the Alchemist Guild, the head of the weapon manufacturing branch led a small cart, dragging the big bone club dripping with blood into the workshop area where the old man was located.

"Look at what you’ve got us into! What kind of task did you accept for us?! The special weapon of the barbarian from the Northern Glacier, the intermediate berserker! The ancient beast’s bone, still sealed with its soul, now its body has cracked, and the soul is injured!

How do I mend this bone? Wrap it with gold wires? And what about the soul? How do I revive it? Should I ask for help from the Black Crow Swamp? Or do you go catch one for me!"

The old man’s expression was extremely ugly. He looked at the big bone club, then at the badge he had given out, and finally remembered it was the reward for Garrett—damn it, he thought 1000 contribution points would be enough, but now it seems that even 5000 contribution points won’t cover it...

Someone has to bear this loss!

In a fit of anger, the old man copied two copies of the manuscript about the microscope and headed straight to the neighboring Magic Review Department, to the office of the divination school’s duty mage:

"Old bastard! Get out here! Who let you randomly evaluate such a good paper!!!"