A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 509: Packaging Garrett as the Healing New Star?

Mrs. Alva was asked to describe what Lord Ostend looked like, his personality, what he liked to eat and drink, his unique hobbies, and who his best friend was—no problem.

As a master of the Control School, she was best at manipulating the human heart. Based on the scattered intelligence in the council, combined with everything Mr. Viper had learned while undercover for half a month, she could piece together a vivid portrayal of a person and devise an action plan—this was her specialty.

But what illness did that child, abandoned by Lord Ostend in the countryside, actually have?

She looked at Garrett.

Garrett looked at her.

Through the wafting tea smoke, across the round tea table with a gold-rimmed, white porcelain three-tiered dessert tray filled with small, exquisite assorted sweets—God have mercy, these afternoon tea pastries were the only things done right in the Kingdom of Kent—both stared at each other, the same phrase rising in their minds:

Talking to a brick wall.

After a while, Mrs. Alva chuckled and took a sip of her tea:

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"Taking this city, or at least swaying its lord to our side, is crucial for the council. —Mage Nordmark, do you know how many people die in the Holsea Strait every year?"

"How many?"

"Mages, more than ten. Last year, twenty-eight mages who tried to flee here and failed to smuggle across the strait, died at the hands of the Radiant Church."

Garrett was solemn. The training of mages was exceedingly difficult, and even those who awakened naturally under the Radiant Church’s rule without formal training were not to be underestimated in battle power.

If the local lord could be swayed to support the council, even if only half of those people could set foot on the kingdom’s soil...

"But this requires military assurance." Garrett pondered for a moment, then looked up from his teacup, fixing his gaze on her:

"Can the council actually take over that city? Even if we do, can we hold it? Can we station several level 15 and above archmages there? Or even a legendary mage?"

That was unthinkable. Capturing a city across the strait—that would be the start of a full-blown war. The Radiant Church would likely mobilize all its forces, even if it meant negotiating with the Orc Kingdom, to fiercely uproot that thorn.

"How could that be possible." Mrs. Alva gave him a reproachful glance:

"Just making the lord lean towards us is enough. Some things, some people, you turn a blind eye to, don’t investigate too deeply, just that can save many lives. —What do you think, Mage Nordmark, would you like to lend a hand?"

"But without seeing the person, I really can’t say." Garrett grimaced and spread his hands:

"Otherwise, I could write up a list, and you could send someone to follow it and get a rough idea first?"

Even that rough idea wasn’t reliable. Garrett fretted: A medical student who hadn’t interned, even if they scored high in "Diagnostics," would still need close supervision when they actually began clinical practice.

Moreover, the likelihood of the council’s operatives having received medical education was virtually zero. The medical histories they brought back would probably be wildly inaccurate, and if even thirty percent of that information was usable, that would be a miracle...

But as for him crossing the strait to the territory ruled by the Radiant Church, that was absolutely out of the question. What a joke, not until his combat power exceeded that of a legendary mage would he ever consider entering enemy territory!

Seeing his guarded expression, almost ready to jump off the couch and sprint back to the Thunder Tower at any moment, Mrs. Alva couldn’t help but smile. She reassuringly raised her hand and pressed down:

"Alright. —Pulling this off will take back and forth, at least six months to a year. First, we need to prove that his youngest son was harmed, and someone is already working on that; next, we need to ensure his eldest son doesn’t fall into the same trap."

Don’t look so eager to flee!

You have the Lord of Thunder backing you, and if you really were to land in danger, your teacher would dismantle the "Tower of Roaming Song"!

Garrett turned this over in his mind and accepted the explanation. Then, regarding "not falling into the same trap," he expressed confusion:

"Do you plan to use ’Remove Disease’ on him?"

"No, we plan to convince him—to use a vaccine."

Mrs. Alva narrowed her eyes and smiled slightly. Once bitten by a snake, one fears a well rope for ten years. Although Remove Disease potions were standard for healers, the lord probably wouldn’t dare use them.

Especially since his youngest son died from this divine magic

. Even if he dared, Mrs. Alva was confident that the people she sent could dissuade him. Could you still trust the Radiant Church?

Instead, vaccines could be shipped in bulk, sampled randomly, and gain trust. There were so many male and female servants in the lord’s mansion, so many paupers on the streets, just grab a few to try.

Listening to her well-considered plan, Garrett had to admire her. The only problem was—

"This takes time! My cowpox preservation experiment isn’t finished yet! I need at least three months to ensure it won’t degrade before I can confidently ship it across!"

Mrs. Alva looked at him speechlessly. Up, down, left, right, horizontally, vertically. She kept looking until Garrett felt restless, then she picked up her teacup and stirred the milk tea inside with a small silver spoon, softly saying:

"We can wait that long. Respected Mage Nordmark, perhaps you should consider how to make Lord Ostend believe in you, willing to let you treat his son."

A level five mage, and a level five priest.

Even if he had published a few articles in "Arcana" and "Magic," for a lord under the Radiant Church, he was still an unknown.

Why would they seek him out instead of those well-known high-level healers? Because he’s young? Or because his fees are low?

Garrett simply spread his hands.

"Shouldn’t that be something for you to consider?"

I’m just a doctor, a doctor!

I don’t lack patients! If I really wanted to perform surgeries, I could walk through a charity hospital and work from dawn till dusk every day of the year!

Mrs. Alva laughed again. The crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes gently curved, her voice gentle, her demeanor serene:

"Yes, we’ve considered that. So we wanted to ask you—Mage Nordmark, would you be willing to cooperate with our plan?"

"What plan?"

Of course, a publicity plan. Garrett was now a level five priest, and immediate advancement to level ten was impossible; they had to find another way. Fortunately, Garrett had recently demonstrated a "cure for the incurable," and Mrs. Alva’s idea was to boost his reputation as much as possible:

"First, write a few substantial articles, better yet, create a few powerful spells. Secure a place among high-level healers, so that when they encounter complex diseases, you’re not the first they think of, but at least they think of you."

This was already his goal, always accumulating material. Of course, having someone willing to help publish his articles, even sponsor his research, was ideal. Garrett smiled:

"And then?"

"Then, of course, we get you some patients, really boost your reputation!"

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