A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 602: Get the healing potion, do a carotid angiography first!

Garrett moved the X-ray light source downward, quickly assessing the victim’s condition. When the scan reached the chest cavity, he frowned deeply:

Beneath the chest wall, there was a clear striated image, the lung tissue was being severely compressed! Although the compression hadn’t exceeded 50% yet, it was already very dangerous!

Pneumothorax!

In addition to the head, the assailant had also stabbed the victim in the chest, unfortunately causing a tension pneumothorax!

This condition kills quickly, only slightly slower than a major artery rupture... Immediate action was necessary to save the victim, or it would be too late!

"Make way! All of you, make way! Let me save him!"

He shouted loudly. At the same time, he slapped his space bag, and the surgical toolbox fell to the ground, automatically opening.

Scalpel, tissue forceps, hooks... various bottles and containers...

Garrett grabbed a glass bottle and quickly stepped forward. His left hand extended, with emerald vines swaying in the wind, they burrowed into the victim’s chest wound.

"What are you doing—"

People around, uneven in their queries, a couple with particularly hoarse voices, sounded like they were scraping knives with sandpaper, clearly necromancers—oh, the injured was one too.

Thank goodness, no one intervened. Garrett had no time to speak. His left hand pressed against the victim’s chest, his right hand pointing:

Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh! The Water Creation Spell activated, and water instantly filled a glass bottle. The vine on the other end rose on its own, drilling into the bottom of the bottle.

Soon, bubbles gurgled, forming a small string at the bottom of the water.

"Closed thoracic drainage." Seeing the bubbles, Garrett finally breathed a sigh of relief. He intently watched the X-ray image, observing the lung lobes gradually expand, quickly responding:

"He’s got a pneumothorax... Without closed drainage to vent the air, the lungs are pressed tightly, unable to breathe..."

While speaking, the victim exhaled a breath, his chest beginning to rise and fall slightly, groaning softly. His eyelids fluttered, and his eyes started to move slightly.

Sighs of relief rose and fell around, someone quietly asked:

"Who is he?"

"Who is this savior?"

"Garrett Nordmark..."

Garrett ignored the questions. After addressing the most urgent open pneumothorax, he continued checking:

Thank goodness, no major bleeding, no arteries punctured. Breathing had been restored, and an ECG showed basically normal; the victim was not in immediate life danger.

Consciousness was slightly returning, but the extent of damage to his left eye was still unknown. Blood was flowing from the left nostril, its condition unclear.

As for the stab wound on the head, that would have to be dealt with slowly.

So—

How many stabs did the assailant make?

Besides the one in the eye, where else did he stab?

What was this knife usually used for, was it rusty, was it poisoned?

Apart from using a knife, did the assailant do anything else, like casting spells, throwing poison?

Garrett looked around, planning to find someone to ask. The room’s atmosphere was tense:

A female mage of the charm control school collapsed on the sofa, with two female companions sitting closely by her side, listening to her sob continuously:

"It’s all my fault... I shouldn’t have been afraid of them fighting, suggesting coming to this room to talk... Who would have thought they’d use knives..."

Across from the female mage, a young, somewhat handsome mage, blood-stained, was pinned to the ground by several skeletons. The skeletons, hands and feet intercrossed tightly around his ribs.

Clearly, the necromancers who acted did not intend to give the restrained person any chance to struggle. They stood shoulder to shoulder, glaring at the opposing mages from the Tower of Songs, faces full of alert.

Garrett cautiously approached them. As he walked, he raised both hands to chest level, palms outward, signaling he did not intend any mischief:

"Uh... could you step aside for a moment, let me ask him a few questions... I won’t touch him, I just need to save someone, need to know about the knife..."

Before he could continue, the necromancers exchanged glances, stepping aside to make way. Garrett breathed a sigh of relief:

Thank goodness, his reputation in the Black Crow Swamp was still decent, enough to smooth things over...

He squatted in front of the assailant, lowering his voice, quickly inquiring. Thank goodness, the knife was not deliberately poisoned nor was it rusty. The assailant, besides passionately stabbing with the knife, had not cast any spells.

Then... it was

time to examine the head wound, the X-ray was not very clear...

Garrett stood up, intending to request the area be cleared. As he turned his head, he realized the surrounding area was bustling, already crowded with people:

Screams had alerted the entire floor. Garrett finished examining the X-ray film, and dozens of mages had already arrived at the door, peering and whispering:

"What’s going on?"

"Why suddenly use a knife?"

"Where did it stab?... Sss, must have stabbed into the brain!"

"Did someone call a medical mage? Who went to call?"

"Shush... isn’t there one here already?"

"But someone has already gone to call! Should we stop them?"

"Don’t! What level is this one now?... Only level six? Can level six handle it? I see he doesn’t dare to pull out the knife..."

As they spoke, a huge commotion arose outside. A crowd of people ran and shouted, getting closer:

"They’re here, they’re here!"

"The healer has arrived!"

"A level ten medical archmage!"

"There’s hope!"

The footsteps were chaotic. Garrett slightly turned his head, catching a glimpse in his peripheral vision, a figure in a white robe sprinting and halting beside the victim.

The newcomer squatted down, extended a hand, fingertips radiating white light, and stopped immediately as he got close:

"Uh..."

Who the hell called him here! Who the hell! The explanation was unclear, saying he was stabbed, why not say it was poked into his eye!

In such a situation, how could he dare to casually operate!

"I..." He extended his hand, then retracted it, extended it again, then retracted. A mage nearby, who had invited him over, urged anxiously:

"Archmage Bennett, please save him! He’s dying!"

But the knife was stabbed too deeply! Bennett’s forehead was covered with beads of sweat. Now, if he pulled out the knife, would his healing magic be fast enough to stop the bleeding?

Would it be too slow, causing the victim’s brain to bleed out, ending it all?

Or would the healing magic be applied too quickly, effectively embedding in the brain, making it even harder to remove?

"Wait a moment! Let me think... let me think... this knife has stabbed into the brain..."

"It didn’t reach the brain."

A clear, resonant voice suddenly countered quietly nearby.

Bennett turned his head, only to see a young man, almost a teenager, kneeling on his left side, his expression serious, brimming with confidence:

"This knife, entered from the lower part of the left eye socket, pierced through the cheekbone, nasopharynx, upper jaw, reaching the carotid artery. From what we can see, the carotid artery doesn’t appear to be ruptured yet, but how much damage to other vessels and nerves has occurred is hard to say..."

While speaking, he casually summoned a Silent Phantom. In the void, light and shadows spread out, instantly sketching a skull.

He continued to depict the organs and tissues, and nearby necromancers gestured, causing a skeleton to jump up from the ground. It took off its head, respectfully offering it with both hands.

Garrett: "......"

Explaining anatomical structures using a skull, or a plastic skull, I’ve done that; explaining using a skull offered up like this, I...

Alright, I’ve done that too. The first time I met Lynn, his golden skeleton was just as obedient...

He casually wanted to grab a pen, or something else, to replace a sharp knife. With a snap, the skeleton had already broken off a rib and offered it up. Garrett frowned:

"I need a straight one."

The rib fell to the ground, and without hesitation, the skeleton flipped its hand, breaking off its own ulna...

It would be a bit of a letdown not to accept such goodwill. Garrett took the ulna, inserted it into the skull’s eye socket, lifting it to show everyone:

"Look, it’s inserted obliquely downwards like this, entering from the left eye socket to near the neck. There’s indeed some distance from the brain, but there are too many vessels here, really too many..."

Not just vessels, but nerves as well. The path of the knife blade was fraught with dense nerve plexuses, especially the posterior cranial nerves being the most troublesome. Garrett was extremely worried:

The victim’s consciousness had not fully returned, perhaps not only due to shock-induced self-protection but also possibly due to nerve damage. If it was merely compression, it would be somewhat manageable, but if the nerves were severed...

"What are you going to do?"

The crowd parted, and Archmage Grom arrived, panting. He nodded to Lady Alva, too rushed for pleasantries, and asked directly. Garrett steadied himself:

"I need to take a look first."

"How will you look?"

"Bring a bottle—"Garrett paused for a moment:

"Actually, make it two bottles of heavy injury healing potion. I need to perform a carotid angiography to examine the condition of the neck and brain vessels!"

"What?"

Archmage Grom, who hadn’t been keeping up with Garrett’s research recently, was momentarily baffled. Lady Alva immediately responded:

"Alright! What else do you need?"

Whatever it was, she was ready to provide. The assailant was from the Tower of Songs; if the victim died, she would be in the most difficult position. If little Garrett could increase the chances of saving the victim by even a fraction,

"Clear the area! Find a non-magical item to stabilize the victim! Find a power source from the Mage Tower, I need to power this device..."

He pulled a golden box from his space bag. Lady Alva saw it and laughed, extending her hands:

"I can power it! What else do you need?"

"Something else that can allow the victim to rotate in place, so I can observe the situation from 360 degrees..."

"No problem! All of you, move! Don’t just stand here watching!"

The majority of the onlookers dispersed like birds and beasts. Two skeletons and four 【Greater Mage Hands】 came forward to help.

In a moment, the unconscious victim was strapped to an armchair, his head secured. The four legs of the chair were placed on a floating disc, steady and ready for even rotation.

Garrett held a syringe, drawing up exactly 30 milliliters of 【heavy injury healing potion】, and instructed Archmage Grom:

"When I say ’start’, you activate 【Detect Magic】! One hand on the gold box, envisioning the scene in your mind’s eye, which the box will record! Are you ready?"

"Wait wait wait!" Master Bennett clung to the doorframe, eager to stay:

"Can I stay to watch? I can help turn the floating disc!"

"Alright! You stay! Three, two, one!"

The potion was injected into the artery, and as the heart pumped, it flowed swiftly into the brain.

In a moment, the spell was complete, and Garrett activated the crystal chip, staring at the convoluted and intertwined blood vessels near the knife tip, frowning:

"This is going to be tricky..."

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