It’s been proven time and again that anything may seem of little value when no one is vying for it. Buyers can be picky, taking it or leaving it as they please. However, once two people start competing for it, the value of the item skyrockets. And if there are three or four contenders, even trash can suddenly seem like it’s lined with gold, shining brightly and emanating auspiciousness. This was especially true for the items Garrett Nordmark offered; they were genuinely of high quality.
Garrett Nordmark’s two papers on dysentery had been thoroughly studied in Black Crow Swamp, turned over and over countless times. Even those not specializing in plague studies couldn’t help but purchase a few microscopes upon their release, tinkering day and night. Yet, unfortunately, after more than half a year of effort, the results were...
"Nothing’s grown at all!"
"What exactly is growing here... Why are there yellow, green, and even white substances in a glass bottle? This doesn’t match the paper’s description!"
"The glass tube is growing hair!"
"The colors won’t stick!"
"I can’t see anything under the microscope..."
To say that Garrett was fabricating data in his papers would be incorrect. During the lab leak incident, Garrett, along with ten priests from the Church of Nature and ten Necromancers, went through the processes of cultivation, sampling, staining, and microscopic examination, teaching each step by hand.
After being taught by him for a few days, the Necromancers had become proficient, at least in identifying cholera bacteria...
Returning to their own labs to isolate and culture other bacteria, they continued to face catastrophic failures.Therefore, Black Crow Swamp closely monitored every move Garrett made, eagerly seizing any training opportunities he offered. Their actions were as swift as ticket scalpers at a top-tier hospital vying for specialist appointments, or fans trying to snap up concert tickets for their favorite idols.
Face?
What is face?
Is face more important than knowledge?
It’s only right and natural for a student to eagerly learn from their master.
Thus, when Archmage Edgar spoke up, he directly offered to send twelve people. Following him, four from the Church of Nature and eight from the Temple of the War God. The Spring Water Temple hesitated for a moment, and by then, the training slots were overbooked by 200%—they couldn’t grab anything...
The Necromancers sat on one side of the long table near the door, while the three temple dignitaries sat on the window side, glaring daggers at each other. The bishop from the War God’s Temple, being the most impatient, failed to intimidate the others with his glares and immediately started banging on the table:
"You bone tamperers are too much! There are only twelve slots, do you plan to swallow them all? At most, you’ll get a third!"
"Quarter!" interjected the priest from the Spring Water Temple. Though still unclear about the specifics of what was being fought over—he hadn’t attended the meeting a few days ago and thus didn’t know about the papers—he knew if many were vying for it, it had to be valuable.
The Spring Water Temple had also contributed to the establishment of the public health institution, so why shouldn’t they get a share?
"A quarter is too much!" the meeting’s chairperson, a judge, said with a smile, leaning towards the Necromancers:
"Old Edgar, you can’t just because you’re here today, hog all the slots for the council!
The Transmutation School doesn’t want any slots?
The Abjuration School’s medical branch doesn’t want any slots?
The little guy is from the Evocation School! If you hog their slots, do you believe if the Lord of Thunder finds out, he’d strike you with lightning on the spot?"
Ahem—
Aurora Worton coughed boldly. Although her school hadn’t reserved any slots, if the Lord of Thunder heard such talk, the lightning might just strike her instead...
"The real issue is the lack of slots." Elder Donald calmly added:
"Ah, young Garrett, can’t you train a few more? To monitor the city’s drinking water and to run a hospital, twelve people won’t be enough, right?"
He remembered clearly, during the last outbreak, Garrett had single-handedly enlisted twenty people!
"But..." Garrett hesitated, "my Mage Tower..."
"It’s just twelve rooms, right?" Elder Donald waved his hand dismissively:
"Let my people share. Two to a room is fine. If that’s not enough, bring a blanket and sleep on the floor in the hall. The followers of the Nature God aren’t so delicate. Out in the wild, in a barn, anywhere is fine for overnight."
This opened the floodgates. The bishop from the War God’s Temple immediately followed up:
"The priests of the War God have no issue. Mage Nordmark, can you double the slots?"
"I can too!" Archmage Edgar boasted, thumping his chest:
"When I was just starting, not even an apprentice mage yet, didn’t I sleep on the floor in the hall? If I could do it, why can’t they?"
Garrett looked at the dignitaries with astonishment. Apprentices sharing rooms? Sleeping on the floor wrapped in blankets? Were the dignitaries serious?
In his previous life, he had lived in an eight-person dorm—on the bottom floor, facing north, unbearably hot in summer and so cold in winter they had to tape the windows. But since becoming a mage apprentice, Garrett had never lived in less than 161 square feet. He had always believed that spellcasters deserved better living conditions than ordinary people.
Apprentice rooms had only a single bed, a desk, a chair, a cabinet, and shared bathrooms. Could spellcasters really tolerate sharing such rooms?
He looked around. The mages and clergy nodded in agreement. Garrett thought for a moment:
"Those coming for training must follow my instructions!"
"No problem! If they don’t listen, beat them senseless. If that’s not enough, Black Crow Swamp will give them another beating!"
"After successful training, you must serve in the Public Health Office for at least a year!"
"Will you be training newcomers within a year? ...Yes? Then no problem!"
"In case of an infectious disease outbreak, each major temple must send high-ranking priests to assist! No fewer than five people, and the support duration must not be less than thirty days per year!"
"This..." The three clergy members fell silent for a moment. At the crucial moment, the Transmutation Archmage coughed lightly:
"No problem. According to the council and temple agreement, in the event of an outbreak, temples are obligated to provide support. If such a situation arises, the council will definitely coordinate on your behalf."
"I have no more concerns." Garrett sighed in relief. "Twenty-four it is, no more, the lab can’t fit anymore—give me a few days to get the Mage Tower in order, and then we can start the training!"
"Why wait? Let them come tomorrow!" Archmage Edgar interjected. Garrett was stunned:
"But, the lab hasn’t been moved over yet..." My bacterial cultures! My petri dishes! My shadowless lamp! They’re still at the old place!
"We’ll send people to help you move!"
"But I need time to purchase supplies! I have nothing there; the Mage Tower was just finished yesterday!"
"List what you need! You don’t have to worry about anything else!"
Was this... were they planning to provide everything from bed sheets and pillowcases, to pots and pans, and even all the lab equipment and animals, in one go?
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