A Hospital in Another World?
Chapter 94-95

Dozens of eyes were fixed on Garrett Nordmark.

A father, thin and hunched, carrying his daughter on his back, struggling to spread his not-so-wide shoulders to make his little girl more comfortable.

A mother holding her son, lips cracked, eyes deeply set, leaning against the wall, gently patting her son in her arms.

A daughter supporting her mother, using her tender shoulders to bear the weight, preventing the woman from falling to the ground...

One patient after another, one family member after another.

Children, young adults, middle-aged, those with white hair.

This room belonged to Elder Elwin in the city, also the frequent gathering place of the Nature God's cult. At this moment, there were at least five people busy in the cult. However, the priest's healing arts were limited, no matter how busy or hardworking, they couldn't cope with the overwhelming number of patients.

Moreover, because Elder Elwin stopped treating and talked to Garrett, the commotion in the crowd, starting nearby and spreading, surged like ocean waves.

"Elder, save me!"

"Please... save my mother..."

"My son is dying... please take a look at him... look at him..."

The crowd pressed forward. Desperate hands, thin and wrinkled, tattered clothes, swayed and reached almost to Garrett's face. Elder Elwin instinctively pulled Garrett, placing him behind himself.

"Little Garrett, we can't leave them and walk away like this..."

"But staying is not an option!" Garrett pulled him forcefully. "Teacher, with such a massive epidemic, the lord has fled the city. We must rely on ourselves! Relying solely on healers is not enough, relying solely on us is not enough!"

His eyes were ablaze, his arms trembled, and his breath was rapid. He had witnessed this scene before, and in his previous life, not long before his transmigration.

Family members desperately pushing and shoving, vying for a bed or at least a chance for treatment; exhausted doctors shouting with tears in their eyes, "We can't do anything..."

What was even more terrifying was that at that time, they faced not a gastrointestinal infectious disease but a respiratory system illness. The virus spread through droplets, and their only protection on the frontline against patients was thin medical masks...

That time, before reinforcements arrived, they filled in with their own flesh and blood. Batch after batch, they stepped forward.

"Teacher! I've seen such a pandemic! I know what to do! Teacher, trust me!"

He had seen it, experienced it, and fought against it.

Nearly twenty years ago, he was still a student, protected by his seniors, standing behind them, blocking the school gates.

During the great earthquake, he had just become a resident doctor, ineligible to be mobilized. After the teachers were called away, he gritted his teeth and held the fort.

Not long ago, he found the protective suits used by predecessors, white robes like armor, charging forward...

But without the support of the entire society, without everyone uniting to fight the epidemic, each time would ultimately end in hopeless sacrifice, with no exceptions. Sᴇaʀᴄh the NøvᴇlFirᴇ(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Elder Elwin straightened his body. He had been busy with the compost project outside the city, designing the location, shape, depth, and composting method for days. Finally returning to the city with people the previous day, he was immediately blocked at home by a multitude of patients, thanks to Garrett's information about the lord leaving the city.

Even if years of experience made him realize something was wrong, faced with so many desperate patients, he couldn't bring himself to leave. Besides, wasn't there still the lord's mansion?—Until just now when little Garrett ran over and told him about the lord leaving the city.

Elder Elwin looked at the trembling arms in front of him, the crowd stretching from the doorway to the end of the alley, and his fellow cult members—Anthony's pale face, Evan's sweat beads on his forehead, Joanna's dim red marks on her cheeks...

They were all exhausted.

They were all nearing their limits.

He turned to Garrett:

"I'll go with you. Whom to find, what to do, you say, and I'll do it!"

Elder Elwin's shout from the high ground was indeed effective. As an 8th-level priest, he was essentially at the pinnacle of the magical practitioners in Hartland City—the High Priestess of the Temple of the Water Goddess was level 7, and the bald Bishop was also level 7. As for the Master of the Mage Tower, Mage Gelman, he was a pitiful 5th level...

About an hour later, the Bishop of the Temple of the War God, the captain of the city guards, Baron Vaughn, the knight Sir Levi, and a few wealthy merchants still in the city, including the food merchant, the dyer, the head of the construction guild, the jeweler, and the like, gathered at the city guard's camp. Garrett mentioned them by name, and they all nervously sat at the long table, shivering.

"...What about the Temple of the Water Goddess?" Garrett waited for a long time but didn't see anyone from the temple. He whispered to Elder Elwin, who had inquired around. The elder lowered his voice:

"Shh, they closed their doors the day before yesterday... It's said that from the high priest to the guards, everyone fell ill..."

"So why did they call us here!" Baron Vaughn, with the highest status here and an impatient temper, was the first to question. "Your Excellency Bishop, can't you go to our house and see—there are several people not feeling well..."

"Yeah! Our house too!"

"Our house—"

Chaos ensued. Seeing this, Elder Elwin took a step forward, raised his oak staff high, and struck the ground heavily:

A "boom" sound, the entire hall tilted and swayed, like a small earthquake had occurred.

"Because this is a plague! A great plague!" The old man shouted with full vigor, the entire hall buzzing, and Garrett barely resisted covering his ears:

"Without gathering everyone's strength, at least a third of the city will die! Garrett, you say!"

He stepped aside, revealing Garrett. Dozens of eyes looked over, seeing a young man standing behind the elder, dressed quite strangely: holding the iconic oak staff of the Nature God's cult, wearing a robe with a wand embroidered diagonally—just looking at the robe, he was a standard 1st-level mage.

Who was this person?

Those well-informed naturally knew that a few days ago, a mage apprentice appeared in the city and was accepted as a disciple by the elder of the Nature God's cult. Those less informed were still gossiping and trying to find out. Garrett had moved two steps to the side, standing in front of a wooden board brought in earlier, and spoke loudly:

"Because following the current treatment methods, the number of patients will only increase, and the power of the healers can never catch up! Teacher, how many people can our cult treat in a day?"

"It depends on the severity of the patients—"

"If they've been bedridden for a day or two?"

Elder Elwin calculated silently. "For second-level priests, at least one can be cured in a day. Considering you and me, there are a total of fourteen people

 in the cult, with different levels... um, 30 to 35 people, not exceeding 40."

"Your Excellency Bishop, what about the Temple of the War God?"

"About the same."

"So, how many patients were there the day before yesterday? How many yesterday? Gentlemen, do you know how many patients there are in the city just today?!"

Garrett's voice suddenly soared. The hall fell silent, only the calm voice of Elder Elwin, as if making a note for his disciple:

"The day before yesterday, we treated a total of nine patients. Yesterday, twenty-eight. Today, just the ones I've seen are over a hundred—"

"The day before yesterday, five. Yesterday, nineteen." The bald bishop added in a low voice, "Today, over a hundred."

As they spoke, Garrett waved his hands, using magical tricks to draw a line graph on a whiteboard. All eyes were drawn to that line: on the first day, fourteen people; on the second day, forty-seven; on the third day, two hundred! Following this trend, what about the fourth day? The fifth day, the sixth day?

Garrett was also thinking about this. What was the r0 of the dysentery? What was the formula for calculating the number of infections? What was the mortality rate? How many people would get sick tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and the day after that?

Whatever, just fill in randomly! No one here understands anyway—

He waved his hand again. On the chart with a black line as the base, the bright red line soared high. On the fourth day, six hundred; on the fifth day, fifteen hundred; on the sixth day, five thousand! The line was steep, shocking, far surpassing the green line representing life, which was just a hundred people!

"We can't treat so many people! If left unchecked, no one can save so many people! Gentlemen, if you don't want yourself, your family, your friends to fall ill and die, we must take action immediately!"

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