A Hospital in Another World?

"How did it go?"

Garrett had just descended from the mountain when his companions swarmed around him, eagerly asking. Garrett hung his head, feeling somewhat disheartened.

"Gelman, the mage, said I should start by observing..."

He recounted the negotiation process to his friends. Unexpectedly, each of them was thrilled, especially Captain Karen and the young priest, John. Karen, with her extensive experience, was the first to reassure him:

"This treatment is already quite good. Little Garrett, you don't know how many noble children in the city aren't even eligible to observe at the Mage Tower!"

"And it's tuition-free!"

The young priest valued this aspect even more. He even brought up experiences from his companions to comfort Garrett:

"Even in our temple, there are many noble descendants and knights who, unable to afford magic education, can only come to the temple for training!"

Unable to afford... magic?

Garrett forced a smile. While the tuition for observers was waived, he had to provide his own materials for transcribing spells. Attending Gelman's lectures didn't require extra payment, but whether Gelman's disciples would help him without payment was uncertain.

He could tighten his belt and survive on plain black bread, shuttle back and forth between the city and the mage tower daily, but could he rely on just his two legs?

Everything required money.

His original salary was only 5 silver coins. After filling his stomach, he could barely afford coarse cloth for clothing.

Worried and without showing it, Garrett didn't want Uncle Karen and the others to worry too. Riding along with the team towards the city, he observed the streets inside, growing increasingly concerned.

The barracks of the city guards were near the north gate, but they entered through the west gate, passing streets that weren't the busiest, but still quite troubled. Yet, as far as Garrett could see, both sides of the street were lined with dilapidated wooden houses, windows and doors askew, leaking air.

Patches upon patches adorned women's skirts. Garrett spotted a little girl of six or seven peeking shyly from a doorframe; as soon as she saw him looking, she shrank back, then timidly peeped out again. Her dress was in tatters, barely covering her thighs, and a younger boy was playing half-naked in a corner...

At the bakery around the corner, almost all that was displayed were loaves of dark bread.

No cobblestones on the streets, no drainage on the sides, no public sanitation facilities. Trash piled up, sewage flowed, and with every horse hoof, there was a mud puddle.

Muddy splashes of black and yellow dotted the streets incessantly. Garrett didn't want to contemplate what lay within those mud patches.

One word: poverty.

In such a destitute city, how much could he possibly earn to support himself? Garrett had no idea.

He hoped the barracks would be a bit more supportive... No, even if they were, what did it matter to him? Could it lead to a promotion and a raise?

Just being able to stay in the Mage Tower every day without being dismissed by the city guard was enough.

Full of apprehension, Garrett followed Captain Karen into the barracks. The appearance of the barracks was still somewhat in his memory from the original owner, but upon entering, he was slightly shocked:

The city guard in Hartland City wasn't that large; only about two hundred people, not even comparable to a county police station from his previous life. Of course, whether the population of this small city could even match that of a county in his previous life was also anyone's guess.

Small as it was, with about two hundred people constantly gathering, training, and fighting on this ground. As for how skilled the knights were, Garrett had already seen it with Roman, the knight. In such a small place, they truly didn't have much to do...

Like now. On the training ground nearly a size larger than a schoolyard, two knights were in a fierce battle, the thunderous clash of weapons audible even from half the training ground away. Captain Karen immediately halted:

"The Captain and Sir Westlow are sparring! Our Lieutenant is there too, let's go over..."

With a total of 200 city guards, there was one Captain, Stephen Nolan, a 7th-level knight, and four Lieutenants, all with knight-level strength, roughly 5th level or above in terms of warrior ranks. Garrett vaguely remembered that his original father was also a Lieutenant in the city guard.

As for individuals like Uncle Karen, who couldn't break through to become a knight, aging and starting to decline in health, they could only remain Lieutenants indefinitely...

The Lieutenant in charge of Karen's team, Lieutenant Flynn, looked to be around thirty-five or six, at the peak of his physical prowess. Upon hearing Captain Karen's report, he glanced in the direction of the Spring Goddess's temple and sneered:

"They think whatever they say goes? Do they think the city guard is here to be bullied?"

Garrett felt a wave of relief. Lieutenant Flynn motioned for him to come closer, smiling as he asked:

"You've mastered healing arts? Planning to study magic too? How many times a month?"

"Master Gelman allows me to go every day," Garrett replied honestly. After speaking, he hesitated for a moment, looking embarrassed:

"Captain Flynn, could I... could I ask you to...?"

"What?"

Captain Flynn asked with interest. Garrett struggled not to blush:

"It's just, these days I need to study at the Mage Tower and can't join the patrols. Could you... not deduct my salary temporarily...?"

Not working for an extended period without pay while expecting to receive wages was something Garrett had never experienced in his previous life. Feeling awkward, he finally managed to get the words out, only to hear Captain Flynn burst into laughter:

"You, Garrett... you!"

Garrett was puzzled. Captain Flynn burst into hearty laughter, tears streaming down his face, as he wiped them away:

"You're worrying about your salary! You, you... hahaha!"

The laughter echoed loudly. Even the two knights fighting on the field momentarily paused, and Sir Westlow, unable to block properly, was sent flying with a thud!

"Ah!!!"

Soldiers watching nearby screamed in shock. A group of them dashed inside, and Garrett had only taken a few steps when he heard someone urgently shout:

"Priest! Get the priest quickly!"

Urgent and mournful in tone. It sounded just like families shouting "doctor" in an emergency room in his previous life.

Garrett quickened his pace even more. He dashed into the crowd, peering through the gaps, and his breath caught.

The injured person was curled up on the ground, lips turning blue, hands desperately reaching toward his chest. His eyes bulged like goldfish, gasping for air as if on the verge of suffocation. The veins on his neck bulged like earthworms, drenched in sweat, struggling hard.

This was...

"Take off his clothes! Quickly!"

Even without him saying anything, the nearby soldiers were already tearing off the man's clothes. For an injured person, the consensus among soldiers was to remove clothing promptly to facilitate the priest's treatment. As the clothes were removed, the wound came into view, and Garrett immediately furrowed his brow.

The man's chest was unnaturally contorted. Ribs were broken, the chest wall collapsed, and jagged bone edges pressed against the skin. What was more dangerous was the abnormal fullness on the right side of the chest cavity.

The distance between several ribs was noticeably wider. With each breath, the part of the right chest that had sunken would suddenly collapse or rise.

Combined with the earlier signs of blue lips, bulging neck veins, and difficulty breathing, Garrett immediately thought of one term:

Tension pneumothorax!

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