Chapter 223

Name:A Hospital in Another World? Author:
Chapter 223

Watching Grand Mage Carlisle turn red with a thick neck and blood rushing to his head, Garrett couldn’t help but feel a bit... sympathetic.

After all, Grand Mage Carlisle had once saved him. Back then, when he was cornered by the Radiant Lord’s pursuers on the battlefield, it was this mage who descended from the sky, drove away the enemies, and protected him. It was also him who made the decision to stuff Garrett into the flying ship and bring him back to the training camp...

At that time, Grand Mage Carlisle, at first glance, seemed like a charming middle-aged man, gentle, noble, and modest. Except for the fact that his golden robe was a bit dazzling, his speech and attitude were impeccable. When asked about his experience in battle, there was no hint of disdain. In fact, there was even a hint of curiosity.

But now? Clothes wrinkled, eyes red, hair messy, with a few strands of silver-white hair sticking out of the mess. Looking at him, Garrett couldn’t help but think of those coders who had been fired at the age of 37 and could only deliver takeout...

Garrett even felt a bit sorry for him. However, sympathy aside, principles had to be upheld. He waved his hand, asking Aurora to close the office door, shutting out the footsteps in the corridor and the prying eyes of junior mages. Then, he looked into Grand Mage Carlisle’s eyes and explained earnestly:

"Master, I respect your decision, and I can afford the cost of seclusion. But everyone’s path to advancement is different. I don’t advance through meditation... Besides, I’m not ready yet!"

"What do you mean you’re not ready? What else do you need? Tell me, and I’ll help you prepare!"

"...I still haven’t finished shaping my smooth muscles..."

But Garrett couldn’t bring himself to say this out loud...

On one hand, it was because it involved the secret of his meditation. It’s not that the Magic Council might force him to reveal his meditation rules— if they did, he would comply; there was nothing he couldn’t share, and the Magic Council genuinely cared about him, serving as his umbrella of protection. Giving it to them wouldn’t be a bad thing.

But due to their concern for him, Garrett was genuinely afraid that they would take away his meditation rules, dissect and study them over and over again, and forbid him from practicing until they understood them fully.

Furthermore, handing them over was a huge project in itself, one that could delay progress by a couple of months— it wasn’t something that could be done simply by explaining his rules of focus and relaxation!

Garrett struggled for a moment before saying, "I need to explore more, broaden my horizons... To do things properly, I need to have a clear mind and not be preoccupied with other matters... For example, the mithril smelting project, that has to be completed first!"

"Will you advance once the project is successful?"

Grand Mage Carlisle looked at Garrett skeptically. This electrolytic smelting project, involving dozens of mages including his own apprentices, had consumed countless resources. After a couple of months, using up two large boxes of graphite and hundreds of kilograms of intermediate products of mithril smelting, the outcome was... nothing.

It wasn’t that he was concerned about the manpower and resources wasted. In fact, over the years, the Magic Council’s investment in mithril smelting far exceeded Garrett’s project by thousands or even millions of times. The problem was, how long would it take to complete the project?

Are you procrastinating, or do you want me not to urge you?

"How long do you think it will take for this project to succeed?"

"Well... um..."

Garrett looked up, scanning the ceiling of the room, avoiding eye contact with the other party...

Material science had always been a pitfall. How many large enterprises, research institutes, and thousands of people had poured their lifelong efforts into it, only to produce a few results in the end? It was half due to investment and half due to luck. If luck wasn’t on their side, they wouldn’t produce anything for three to five years.

And the Magic Council? With only three laboratories and dozens of people working, they expected results in a month?

Their luck was just too good!

"Enough, let’s not talk about whether the project will succeed or not." Grand Mage Carlisle took a deep breath, trying to suppress his frustration and spoke calmly, "Go meditate for a few days first. Even if you can’t advance immediately, it’s good to strengthen your mental strength. After meditation, if you have time, you can go to the laboratory..."

"Don’t focus on strange things! Even doing magic experiments is better than measuring the body temperature of dwarves one by one!!!"

"No, please!"

Garrett screamed. He still had so much to do! He had only drawn X-ray images for about ten people! He hadn’t even started drawing B-ultrasound images! And there were different levels of physical combat effectiveness, the impact on physiological indicators... Such a big project, he had only just begun!

"Feeling better now? Can you advance?"

Uh... luck was really not on his side... Or rather, the Magic Council’s luck was just too good. They had made a breakthrough in such a troublesome project in just a month. But his personal luck wasn’t that great. It just so happened that he had postponed his advancement to the success of the project...

But he couldn’t back down! Garrett tried to straighten his magic robe, held his head high, and said confidently:

"...How did you know this is the end of the project?"

"What do you mean?"

The Grand Mage frowned. Standing two meters apart, Garrett stared straight into his eyes, confidently asking:

"Even if the electrolytic smelting method of mithril is successful, how much production capacity will there be? Previously, the bottleneck was between semi-finished products and finished products. Now, it’s between ore and semi-finished products, right? I asked a few days ago, and even if we’re lucky, we can only produce a few pounds of semi-finished products per day—"

"So what do you want to do?"

"I have ways!" Garrett raised his head, turned around, looking completely confident:

"There are several nodes that this project needs to break through. I’ll say it’s over when it’s over!"

He strode out of the room. When he reached the door, he pushed and pushed again...

"Open the door!"

Garrett’s prediction soon became reality. The Magic Council’s thirst for mithril was almost infinite. Once the electrolytic smelting method was successful, all the semi-finished products were immediately taken over by the council and transported to the Tower of Heaven. One day, two days...

Then, the speed at which the dwarves refined the semi-finished products couldn’t keep up with the council’s smelting speed.

How could manpower compare with magic? Inside the Tower of Magic, mages adjusted the parameters, heated up, and supplied power, waiting to collect mithril powder. If one crucible wasn’t enough, they used several, or added more power sources;

But in the forging area, there was only one old Siegn who could fish out suitable semi-finished products from the pool...

"Can we go faster?"

"Can we fish out more?"

"Can the output double?"

Day and night, Siegn, who had been guarding the pool for three days, almost fell into it.

It was at this moment that Garrett stepped into the smelting area. Flames were raging by the poolside, and it was a forbidden zone for outsiders. He had no intention of getting close. Wrapped in three layers inside and out, he wore a shield, and even added a [Heat and Cold Resistance], as he carried a bottle of chilled saltwater. Fully armed, he stood far away from the door, asking the braided dwarf who had brought him in:

"Why can’t we fish out more? Is it because there aren’t enough people? If it’s because the miners aren’t strong enough, I can ask the mages to cast shields for everyone and help them out, can’t I?"

"...No, mainly because this pool isn’t good enough." Once the dwarves approved of someone, they would speak frankly and honestly. Right now, the braided dwarf was trying hard to explain to Garrett, pointing at the pool from a distance:

"You see this pool, most of the time it’s golden yellow, sometimes it’s white. But white isn’t good enough, only when it’s dazzling white can it melt the ore and produce good stuff—look, it’s bubbling! It’s about to explode... Explode! Good! It’s happening now."

Several steps away, the old dwarf stretched out his arm, skillfully scooping out something sparkling and hot from the center of the explosion. A handful of crystal-clear, steaming objects emerged from the magma.

Garrett: "...So it’s really because the temperature isn’t high enough! Why didn’t you say so earlier? Here I come!!!"

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