A Hospital in Another World?

"What has young Garrett concocted this time?"

The Lord of Thunder casually disposed of a failed coffee art attempt. He glanced at Carlisle’s hands, noting the absence of notebooks or scrolls—meaning no papers, no research summaries, just a weird, seemingly handmade object presented before him?

Archmage Carlisle, silent, pushed the hand-cranked generator forward onto the desk. The Lord of Thunder, without a look, turned away to grind coffee beans, boil water, brew coffee, and froth milk, multitasking with several low-level magics that required exquisite control.

Muttering to himself while managing the magics, he pondered:

"Carlisle, have we been too lenient with this lad? What has he been up to these past months? No advancement, no seclusion, and all his outcomes seem unrelated to the Evocation School.

—At this rate, he’s practically from the Curse Magic School!"

"Uh... Teacher, this device the lad has made is indeed related to the Evocation School..."

"Oh?"

The Lord of Thunder turned around. Archmage Carlisle, bending slightly, grasped the generator’s handle and began cranking it like an apprentice mage.

As the current flowed, the Lord of Thunder immediately stepped forward. His coffee grinding setup was several steps away from the desk, yet he bridged the distance in one stride.

The legendary mage leaned forward, fixated on the generator. After a while, he abruptly pulled the wires wrapped around the wooden board.

Archmage Carlisle was startled. Sparks flew from the Lord of Thunder’s hands as he reflexively released the wires, yet remained undisturbed, wrapping one end of the wire around his fingertips and commanded:

"Continue."

"Yes—yes."

Carlisle complied softly, cranking faster and faster. The Lord of Thunder closed his eyes, savoring the fluctuating current’s sensation through his body, motionless and silent.

After a moment, a layer of silver-white electric light began to surface on the Lord of Thunder’s body, connecting with the current on his monocle. The electric aura gently fluctuated, silent and rhythmic, occasionally sparking, seemingly ready to explode at any moment.

Archmage Carlisle watched in awe but couldn’t miss this rare opportunity for close observation, despite the risk. He kept cranking vigorously, focused on the fluctuating electric aura. After several dozen more cranks, he heard his teacher’s hoarse command:

"Leave!"

The voice was stern and slightly unstable, as if suppressing something. Meanwhile, the electric aura grew more intense, with visible patterns forming, as if about to break free. An explosion from a legendary master, even if not an internal core meditation explosion but an external protective spell explosion, was not something Carlisle could withstand. A lucky outcome would be severe injury; an unlucky one, death.

Archmage Carlisle fled immediately. Glancing back before closing the door, he saw the generator’s handle spinning on its own rapidly, and the Lord of Thunder’s electric aura already emitting the first arc...

Suddenly, a thunderous surge of electricity whitened the view. Carlisle instinctively closed his eyes, reopening them to find the office empty, both teacher and generator gone.

Only in the clouds above the Mage Tower, thunder rumbled continuously, climbing higher.

Leaning against the outer wall, Carlisle was drenched in sweat. It took him a while to calm his breathing and listen for any sounds from the room. The Lord of Thunder’s office was on the 376th floor, close to the tower’s top. The thunderous rumbling seemed almost directly overhead.

What was the teacher doing? What had he discerned from that strange current? What experiment was so urgent it couldn’t wait for the meditation chamber, driving him to the sky?

...Could the teacher be in danger?!

The longer Carlisle worried, the longer time seemed to stretch. His back was wet with sweat, drying and re-wetting several times. Finally, a "click" sounded from the office door, opening a crack, and the Lord of Thunder’s voice faintly invited:

"Come in."

Carlisle entered with a heavy heart. Upon stepping in, the scene transformed. No longer were there desks, bookshelves, coffee pots, or milk jugs, but a semi-transparent ground, clumps of dark clouds, and joyously rolling ball lightning...

Carlisle knew this was the materialized mental landscape of a legendary mage, now externalized by the master’s will, visible to others. However, making one’s mental landscape interact with the physical world was troublesome and exposed one to external harm. Even legendary mages rarely employed such a powerful technique.

As the Lord of Thunder’s disciple, Carlisle had rarely seen his teacher’s mental landscape, perhaps once or twice a year. He cautiously proceeded inside, observing carefully. Soon, he noticed something unusual:

The ground, sky

, and clouds were filled with countless silver-white electric rings, fluctuating and lighting up intermittently. Occasionally, a branched lightning would strike an electric ring, which would brighten as if absorbing the lightning, continuing its cycle.

"Do you understand?"

Asked the Lord of Thunder. Carlisle pondered before replying:

"I sort of understand... but..."

"Then take your time thinking about it."

The Lord of Thunder responded nonchalantly. The vast array of electric lights suddenly retracted, and Carlisle felt a sudden drop, his feet touching the ground, as the office returned to its normal state.

The Lord of Thunder, standing by the wide desk, twirled the generator’s handle, making it circle:

"This device is quite good; I’ll keep it for a few days. —By the way, what does the young lad want?"

Carlisle recounted Garrett’s request. "The lad said he needs electrolysis—whether it’s electrolyzing saltwater, mithril, or anything else, it must use ordinary lightning, not this fluctuating direction type..."

The Lord of Thunder hummed noncommittally, pondering for a moment, then paced between the window and the desk several times. Finally, facing the large floor-to-ceiling window, he pulled his hands apart, and a finger-thick electric arc leaped out, dancing between his index fingers.

The Lord of Thunder stared at the arc before him. The electric current on his monocle flickered continuously. After a moment, he moved his right hand away from the arc’s end, approaching his left hand, and made a gentle straightening gesture—

Carlisle, standing behind his teacher, saw countless blue-white fluorescences burst in his teacher’s palm. Tiny, incessant bursts. Simultaneously, similar fluorescences exploded on the monocle, gathering inward as if squeezed by an invisible hand.

After a few straightening gestures and observations, the electric arc seemed to thin. But to Carlisle’s senses, the teacher’s electric arc had been combed through, obediently flowing in one direction, no longer cycling or changing direction.

"It can be done." The Lord of Thunder nodded, organizing his thoughts to explain to his student:

"Add a stopper, or something similar, to the electric current. Let the lightning flow only in one direction, blocking any coming from the opposite direction. That’s the principle. To create such a device, it’s up to you to figure out.

—By the way, have the young lad submit a paper on what this device is, how it was made, and why it generates electricity. Then contact ’Arcane’ to publish it, and under my name, issue a reward seeking this device. The reward amount..."

He paused, considering. Too little would not fit a legendary mage’s status, too much was unnecessary. A reasonable amount would do, as his school’s magicians couldn’t ignore his needs:

"Let’s say 5000 contribution points! —And first, spread the word in Thunder Horn, urging our own to put in more effort!"

"Yes!"

Carlisle hurriedly left. That very night, Garrett received the news: the Lord of Thunder himself had requested a paper from him.

"What? 5000 contribution points?!"

Garrett’s pen dropped to the floor. He quickly picked it up, checking and blowing on it—the Endless Ink Pen was a level 9 magical item! If it were to break, the loss would be tremendous!

Though high-level magical items weren’t easily damaged, what if?

"Aurora, should we earn those 5000 contribution points ourselves?"

Just a rectifier, and such a high price! Garrett, though not an electronic engineering major in his previous life, remembered that, perhaps, supposedly, a few diodes might do the trick?

...But how are diodes made? He knew they could be bought on the market, but as for how, something about silicon, quartz... Was it melted down? But then it would just turn into glass... Crystallization, crystal phases, he was clueless...

"Do you have any ideas?"

"None..."

"Then let’s forget it!" Aurora, thinking of yesterday’s peculiar device, which Garrett assembled with difficulty, was skeptical of Garrett’s craftsmanship:

"Boss, let’s just write the paper first. A paper specifically requested by the Lord of Thunder, to be published in ’Arcane’, is bound to come with a hefty reward! Think about the last time, with the Essence paper, this reward surely won’t be less!"

"Ah—don’t talk to me about papers!"

Garrett flopped onto the desk, listless.

Papers, papers... Coils cutting magnetic fields generate electricity... So why does it generate electricity? How detailed does he need to prove it? In this peculiar world, where the microscopic hasn’t reached the atomic level, was he supposed to introduce electrons?

He couldn’t do that!

He could only copy from books for the theory part, asking him to explain further was like asking him to die!

"Aurora—you write the paper!"

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