Chapter 313

James Lowe spent the entire night on the beam without finding a single opportunity to strike.

That young mage—or should I say, young priest?—wrote through most of the night, accompanied by the War God Priest for just as long. After completing the medical records, he repeatedly went in to check on the patient, monitoring his breathing, heartbeat, strength, fever, and even urinary output, recording all this information in his notebook.

During this process, the War God Bishop—James deduced he should be level 7 from his robe—not only did not show any annoyance, but he also didn’t sneak off to the next room to catch some sleep!

"There’s so much you need to record," the War God Bishop remarked as he flipped through the notebook. Names, ages, injuries, various treatments, all meticulously recorded across three pages of paper, accompanied by three diagrams. While not detailed to the finest hair, it was clear enough to show the path of the iron bar through the body and the internal damage.

"This is just the tip of the iceberg," Garrett smiled wearily. This was just a part of the surgical record, or more accurately, just the procedural part of it...

Including the post-surgery inventory of dressings and instruments (there were no dressings or instruments, everything was done with healing spells and Mage Hands);

The situation with sent specimens for lab testing (samples were taken from within the abdomen before closing up, but bacterial culture had not been done yet, Garrett was curious if tetanus bacilli would still be present after being cleansed with holy water);

The patient’s tolerance during surgery (blood transfusions, medication used during surgery, special treatments, and emergency measures were not recorded, only the estimated blood loss was noted);

The anesthesia during surgery (no anesthetic drugs were used, only divine magic for anesthesia, and the effect was satisfactory)...

All these essential parts of the surgical record were still missing.

Not to mention the initial progress notes, senior doctor’s ward rounds, resuscitation records...

Thinking about all these, Garrett felt overwhelmed. When he was studying "Diagnostics," his teacher encouraged them, "At the Union Medical Hospital, medical records from a hundred years ago are still available for doctors to study. If we want to become top-notch doctors, we must start by writing a medical record that will still stand up to scrutiny a hundred years from now!"

Such ambition inspired everyone. However, this lofty aspiration quickly faded when they actually entered clinical practice. From 8 AM to 9 PM, exhaustedly starting to fill out progress notes, it swiftly became:

Write a medical record that meets medical standards... A record that would pass inspections by the province, the city, and the hospital... A record that wouldn’t result in deductions by the medical records department... A record that could win a medical malpractice lawsuit...

Ah, such memories are too painful to revisit.

Miraculously, after being transported to another world, Garrett began diligently filling out medical records again, more diligently than if someone from the medical records department were breathing down his neck. —That’s the ladder of medical advancement, the basis for judging whether each new diagnostic and treatment method is effective, how could he not write it?!

Of course, while he diligently filled out records, Mr. Assassin grew increasingly desperate. Curling up on the beam until the next morning, watching Garrett being sent off by the War God Bishop and handing over to Bernard, James Lowe flipped down from the beam, jumped out the window, and headed straight for Baron Hopman’s domain.

No more assassinations!

He was done with this damned mission!

One failure could be bad luck, a second might be carelessness, but a third failure was a warning from the gods!

Following this principle, James had lived safely until the age of 40, and this time was no exception.

As an assassin, he had a skill set that allowed him to sneak back home unnoticed by gods or ghosts. When Baron Hopman came to his senses and found several people missing from his castle, James Lowe had already taken his family hundreds of miles away, boarding a ship bound for the New World...

"Dear sister..."

The Baroness had more than one sister. Some married knights or squires, some devoted themselves to the temple, some often visited her for conversation, flattery, and benefits, and some broke off relations with her upon marriage. However, the sister she sought help from at this moment was one who took an unusual path, joining the Black Crow Swamp from her youth.

Slynn, removing the letter from the crow’s leg, skimmed through it. Still cries for help, still pleading, this was already the fifth letter, she thought, her sister truly harbored hatred, determined to seek vengeance against that little mage—

So, should she help her with this?

Slynn’s grotesque face twisted into a sinister smile, causing the apprentice to instinctively step back.

She had been ugly since childhood, bullied at home, even the housekeeper and cook dared to show disdain. Fortunately, this sister had always been kind to her, allowing her to eat well, dress warmly, and even learn to read with her...

Because of literacy, she had the chance to meet a mage from Black Crow Swamp, embarking on the path of magic study. After becoming a mage, she lived alone in the mountains, rarely venturing out. This sister, who married into the baron’s family, she hadn’t seen for over a decade, but always remembered her kindness.

Slynn pondered for a moment, pulling out the previous letters from a desk drawer, reading them line by line, carefully. This time, she indeed noticed something she hadn’t before, laughing loudly as she read:

"Ha ha ha ha... Lynn! Lynn! You’ve actually become someone else’s follower! Following a third-level mage!"

Her fingers, wrinkled from potions, clenched, crumpling the thick parchment.

Thinking of Lynn, Slynn’s heart ignited with rage: she had been stuck at the threshold of advancing to level 5 for many years, seeking a magical pet to help her break through, desperately asking her mentor for help. Eventually, her mentor found a cat-shaped magical pet, and with friends, went to capture it, intending to give it to her, but it was allocated to Lynn by the school...

And at that time, Lynn was merely a third-level mage!

He didn’t lack a

magical pet! He wasn’t stuck unable to advance! Just because his mentor was strong, because his faction was powerful, the magical pet that should have been hers was taken by Lynn, who was of a lower level than her!

This vengeance, she must seek one day!

She stepped out of the mage tower, palms upward, letting the crow in her palm take flight. Half a day later, the Baroness received a reply:

"Dear sister..."

A carriage fetched Mage Slynn from the mountains into the baron’s domain, then to Nevis City. Within a week, Mage Slynn visited five or six friends in the school, as well as some nobles familiar to the Baroness. Then, she returned to her mountain mage tower, as if nothing had happened.

Two weeks later, Garrett received news from both the treatment center and the temple:

In several city blocks, mainly inhabited by lower-middle-class craftsmen, artisans, and clerks, there was a noticeable increase in the number of patients.

The conditions showed striking similarities.

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