A Hospital in Another World?
Chapter 87

"Elders? Bishops? What are they here for?"

Mage Gelman Klaus was puzzled. A thought naturally crossed his mind: Could it be that these two are not looking for him but for young Garrett instead?

"Call... Garrett, and welcome our guests!"

With a command given, Garrett hastily received the message and rushed downstairs. As soon as he entered the hall, he heard laughter coming from the reception room, where two individuals were teasing each other. The bald bishop exuded confidence, while Elder Elwin Wilkinson spoke with a moderate tone. Their banter was clear and struck right to the heart:

"Why are you here?"

"Aren't you here too?"

"I came to find my disciple! What about you?"

"Need to run to the village to find your disciple and then sneak back?"

"You did the same, entering the city with the High Priest and then sneaking back!"

"—If not, how can I outpace that old man?"

"You're not trying to outpace that old man but me! Forget it, Garrett is my disciple!"

Garrett glanced at Mage Gelman Klaus and silently lowered his head. Teachers, bishops, can't you stop arguing in the mage tower? It's embarrassing in front of Mage Gelman Klaus!

Mage Gelman Klaus was also somewhat surprised. They really came for Garrett? This young man, a newly promoted level one priest and a mage apprentice, was actually being treated differently by the two leaders of the church. It even seemed like they considered him a collaborator! In that case, the treatment he received in the mage tower shouldn't be too low...

He discreetly took two steps back, coughed, and then led Garrett inside. The reception room immediately fell silent, and the two healers sat opposite each other with cheerful smiles. It seemed like they hadn't been arguing at all.

"Mage, I apologize for disturbing you again," the bald bishop said, though his face showed no signs of remorse as he boldly took a seat on the sofa. His legs stretched out, occupying the space for two people. "We've come to discuss the matter from yesterday... Garrett, about the plan for cleaning up the city, continue!"

Garrett's eyes lit up. He had indeed stayed up all night to complete the plan, but he hadn't figured out when to approach his teacher and how to convince him. Who would have thought that the opportunity would present itself without him actively seeking it!

"Bishop, Elder," he stopped in his tracks, slightly bowing, "please wait a moment, and I'll fetch the plan for you to review."

"You've actually written it down? Hurry up!"

Garrett hurriedly ascended the stairs, then descended with a rolled-up parchment in his hand. He handed it forward, left, right, front – three hands simultaneously grabbed the corners of the paper.

Garrett: "..." Oh no, who do I give this to?

There's no copier in this darn realm.

Mage Gelman Klaus immediately relieved him of his embarrassment. The mage squeezed the paper, gave Garrett a stern look, then gestured outside.

"Go get two more sheets! Copying spell!"

Oh, right, the copying spell... or you can call it the duplication spell. How could I forget about this magic! Mage, you're really something, willingly serving as a human copier!

Garrett ran off, and in a moment, he returned with a stack of papers from the nearby library. Mage Gelman Klaus waved his hand, and the plan sheet multiplied – one became two, two became four, instantly providing everyone in the not-so-large reception room with a copy.

Mage Gelman Klaus took care to ensure Garrett didn't miss out on his copy. Each of the big shots focused on reading, and Garrett sat upright, adopting a posture ready to defend his thesis, prepared to answer questions at any moment.

"Huh?" The first to exclaim in surprise was the bald bishop. "You can make money doing this?"

"You're only thinking about spending money, aren't you?" Elder Elwin Wilkinson mocked him. Then he turned to Garrett and explained, "When this guy was a child, his whole family died in a plague, leaving only him adopted by the temple. When it comes to cleaning the streets and preventing plagues, others may not care, but he cares the most."

Garrett nodded in agreement. Beside the elder, Mage Gelman Klaus turned another page of the plan, contemplating:

"Composting? Decomposition? You have to handle it like this before fertilizing? No wonder they said not to use manure before... So, how big should the composting pit be? Ventilation is also needed below, how do you do that? And when to fertilize, how much per acre? Garrett, why did you write this so ambiguously?" S~ᴇaʀᴄh the NʘvᴇlFire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

"Because I only knew this much..." Garrett felt helpless. He studied medicine, not agriculture, and this stuff was only from novels. Seniors, historians, why didn't you write more details?

"Alright, let's give these things a try," Elder Elwin Wilkinson chimed in. The priests of the Radiant Church regularly roamed the countryside, often teaching farmers how to cultivate. Now, they had an additional subject. Even if the input and output just balanced, the power of faith gained in the process was a net gain for the church.

"Regardless, the logic of increasing yields with manure is correct. This business can make money," he continued.

"Then let's do it together!" Bishop Lord Joane and Mage Gelman Klaus exclaimed simultaneously. They exchanged smiles, about to discuss specific shares, when an inharmonious voice hastily interrupted.

"We can't be in such a rush!" Garrett Nordmark leaned forward, hands on his knees, speaking with urgency.

"How to dig the pits, how to compost, when to fertilize, and how much fertilizer to apply for the best yield increase – all of these need to be experimented with to find the best methods to teach the farmers. Otherwise, they won't listen, and forcing them might lead to trouble!"

As he spoke, his expression darkened slightly, and he seemed a bit uneasy. Elder Wilkinson nodded, "That's right. It'll take at least a year to figure out the best methods."

"But cleaning the streets sooner would be better..." Garrett's speech sped up again. His right hand, firmly clutching a money pouch at his waist, was moist:

"Teachers, Mage Excellency, Bishop, can't we find a way to start the cleanup work first?"

The more Garrett spoke, the more uneasy he became. A project requiring several hundred gold coins to start, probably exceeding a thousand, with returns visible only after a year, and who knows how many years to recover costs, or if they could recover at all – pitching such a project to investors would likely be a tough sell. The sincerity he could offer and the upfront investment he could provide were only—

"If you need money..."

Garrett extended his right hand forward. With a clang, the money pouch gifted by Viscount Joane yesterday landed on the table.

"Hey—how can we use your kid's money?" Mage Gelman immediately objected. Elder Wilkinson, however, raised a hand to stop him:

"No, let him contribute."

"What?"

"This business counts as his share." Bishop Lord Joane also caught on and interjected without hesitation. He took the money pouch and casually placed it on the table:

"Besides young Garrett, the three of us will contribute equally, and profits will be divided equally."

"Equal distribution isn't suitable," Elder Wilkinson shook his head. "Experimenting with composting methods and teaching farmers is something only we can do, and those farmers only trust us."

"We'll handle convincing the Lord!" Bishop Joane asserted without showing weakness. "As for the street cleaning, I'll contact the City Guards to handle it, and they should get their share too!"

"The Mage Tower can provide land," Mage Gelman quickly added. Bishop Joane snorted, "Land? Tenant farmers? We have those too!"

"We can also convince the Lord!"

"Just the City Guards, who can't we handle?"

"The Mage Tower gets thirty percent!"

"At most, twenty-five percent! Otherwise, look for someone else!"

The harmonious and friendly academic discussion turned into a bickering marketplace scene in the blink of an eye. Moreover, it lacked any technical content, resembling the bargaining of street vendors.

Garrett was dumbfounded.

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