Chapter 279

Chapter 279

The merchants made a complete 180-degree turn in an instant.

Just a moment ago, they were dragging their feet, but now they were scrambling to donate eagerly. "You donate 1000, he 800, and him 1500." If it weren’t for being in the council chamber, wallets, pouches, and the jingling of coins would likely rain down like drops.

Garrett, however, didn’t feel a bit triumphant. With years of experience as an emergency physician, he was quite adept at reading people’s expressions. Although the merchants were spending money readily, occasionally a hint of anger and gloom would escape from the corners of their eyes and mouths.

—It’s obvious.

Who would be happy being forced to spend money?

Even he himself, when the review committee demanded compensation, when building a high-level mage tower required extra money, including when entering data required tower spirits, he resisted in every way possible, refusing to spend a single penny.

It’s fine to just resent him. But the real fear was that the wool was pulled over their eyes. Forcing the merchants to pay up might lead them to cut workers’ wages or even lay off a few...

In the end, before the public health construction even began, it would have already implicated a large number of workers, leading to more social problems.

It’s still necessary to give them a sweet date. Of course, before handing out the sweet date, the necessary stick must be wielded as much as possible.

Garrett pondered. Amidst the clamor, he silently lowered his head, beginning to flip through the documents in his hand.

One page, two pages...

As he moved, the clamor in the council chamber gradually subsided, replaced by an accumulating tense silence.

Garrett flipped to the pages he needed, then lifted his head. He saw about twenty or thirty people across from him craning their necks, their eyes fixed on his manuscript.

This...

Whether you look or not, I’m still going to say these things... It’s not useful to see them ahead of time...

Garrett inwardly complained as he turned to the podium. Ahem, although it’s a bit tricky, the demands that need to be made must still be made.

"Apart from using clean water sources in production, shops seeking certification should also follow some regulations. First, they cannot casually discard garbage, and wastewater must be uniformly discharged..."

"Why?"

"On what grounds?"

Several voices shouted from the opposite side. The fattest and burliest one shouted particularly loudly:

"Our slaughterhouse has so many entrails every day. If we don’t toss them into the river, what are we supposed to do?!"

Oh, so it’s about slaughtering pigs and sheep. No wonder he’s so fat. His coat was already made as large as possible, but it couldn’t conceal the bulging muscles on his arms. Garrett looked at him with pity:

"...If you don’t want them, can you give them to me? Shall I send someone to pick them up?"

"Understood." Ah, that’s a smooth transition. Garrett felt pleased as he cleared his throat and glanced at the merchants opposite him. "We establish public health initiatives to improve the health of citizens and enhance their well-being.

Therefore, we cannot allow the costs borne by businesses to be transferred through wage deductions, layoffs, or inflated prices of daily necessities. Such practices are completely contrary to the council’s intentions and must be strictly prohibited!"

Another commotion erupted on the opposite side. However, this time, Garrett didn’t allow them to voice their protests but raised his voice:

"Is anyone here from the Winemakers Association?"

"Here, here, here!" An elderly man in the second-to-last row stood up, his face waxen, his belly protruding, and one hand intentionally or unintentionally pressing against his right ribs. Garrett took one look at him and felt the urge to check his eyelids:

Old man, do you have cirrhosis?

Suppressing his doctor’s instincts, Garrett raised his face and looked directly at the man. His voice was calm and unhurried, with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth:

"Do you make wine yourself? Grow grapes? Do you know how to prevent grape diseases? Would you like to know how to prevent wine from souring and how to control the temperature and time of malting for brewing beer?"

He asked a question, and the old man nodded. He asked another question, and the old man nodded again. After a string of questions, the old man’s back was bent at a 45-degree angle, almost ready to kneel down.

Garrett turned his head slightly to the left. After taking two steps forward and then turning back to look at him:

"By the way, you’d better find a high-level healer—check your liver."

The winemaker nodded eagerly. Garrett smiled at him and scanned the seats opposite him once again:

"Are there any salt merchants here who want to know how to efficiently refine crude salt and what to do with the impurities refined out?

Blacksmiths’ guild, if there’s one, do you want to know how to mass-produce iron and ensure that the iron produced is usable?

General goods merchants—let’s call them that for now—anyone interested in methods for large-scale production of sulfuric acid?"

He spoke casually, and heavy breathing became increasingly audible from the seats opposite him. Merchants looked at each other, their eyeballs turning red. If they didn’t belong to different industries, they would have started fighting on the spot.

That’s it. These advanced technologies are profits, but they are also weapons. Whoever controls them can stand out among peers. And the Magic Council is precisely the representative of advanced technology in this world, holding the most powerful weapon—

Garrett turned around to face the chairman’s podium once more, slightly bowing again:

"Providing employment, offering fair prices, providing suitable products, and protecting the environment are all indispensable social responsibilities for a shop or workshop.

I believe that the Magic Council should select those establishments that excel in fulfilling social responsibilities, prioritize cooperation with them, or—provide technical guidance."

The last few words were drawn out and heavy. There was a moment of silence, then, clap, clap, clap, the transmutation grand mage, smiling, began to applaud.

The other committee members joined in. Soon, the applause echoed throughout the chamber. Garrett smiled as he bowed to all sides. After waiting patiently for about half a minute, he raised his hands lightly and gently pressed them down. The meeting room returned to silence. Garrett turned to face the table opposite, hands behind his back, his smile calm:

"Now, is there any guild or workshop that is unwilling to comply with the council’s rules?"

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