A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 816: Kind Mage, Please Don’t Treat Me

While the Temple of the God of War was in discussion, Mrs. Alva of the Enchantment School was also gathering her subordinates to discuss.

The topic of discussion naturally had only one: Should they send a few cases over first to let Mage Nordmark try his hand?

"Is that necessary?" Beatrice, Mrs. Alva's most beloved female disciple, frowned and said:

"That Count Ostend will definitely send patients over. If we gather our own, and if any child has a bad outcome, wouldn't we be harming our own people for nothing?"

"Then let's send a few patients over first," a necromancy mage immediately refuted:

"Looking at the paper, there will always be problems of one kind or another with the first batch of surgeries. Who knows if problems that don't appear in animals will appear in humans?"

Pity these necromancers, they had plenty of surgical experience. Often experiments that went well on animals would dare to die on you when done on humans; experiments that went well on ordinary people would continue to die on you when done on extraordinary individuals...

In the intelligence team, a conjuration mage stared blankly into space, his ten fingers fluttering as if constantly weaving something. He said as if in a trance:

"If we wait for the Count to send patients over, and five out of ten patients die, or even if one out of ten patients dies, there's no hope for this cooperation."

This was true. In the conference room, a group of mages doing secret work nodded slightly:

Everyone cares about their own children. Even if one out of ten patients sent over dies, the Count definitely wouldn't dare to gamble with his own child's success rate. Send over ten hunchback children, and ten healthy children jumping around need to be returned.

So, the only option was to find a batch of cases from this side to do clinical trials...

"Let's do this, regarding the medical... oh, clinical trial application, let's go run it first, in the name of relevant diplomatic needs," Mrs. Alva concluded after a moment of silence:

"Beatrice, you go run this. First communicate with Mage Nordmark, see what content he definitely needs to be reflected in the experimental application."

"Yes!" The female disciple bowed to accept the order. She silently lowered her head, hiding a trace of bitterness on her beautiful face:

Having to run errands again, having to stay up late writing reports again. And what's more painful is that Mage Nordmark always has many inexplicable requirements for experimental applications...

The council's requirements for medical experiment applications were still relatively lenient, basically as long as someone submitted an application and someone volunteered to participate, it was fine. Paying to hire patients? No problem!

Letting indebted patients pay off their debts with their bodies? Normal!

Buying slaves directly? As long as you can buy them!

The patient dies during treatment? So what if they die, it's not a big deal, as long as your previous experimental application and the contract signed with the patient both mentioned that the patient would have a risk of death. If they really die, the council absolutely won't intervene.

The only taboo was to forcibly bind and conduct research without the patient's permission. Even this was only reached after repeated negotiations and tug-of-war between the council and various factions, nobles, wealthy merchants, various group forces, and the city hall.

But Mage Nordmark's requirements were much more. First, the patient must be voluntary, voluntarily by themselves, not voluntarily by the seller who sold them, or even voluntarily by the parents of children who benefited from it;

Secondly, all patients must be fully informed of the research purpose, methods, expected benefits and potential risks, discomfort that the research may cause, must be informed that they have the right to refuse to participate in the research, or withdraw their previous consent at any time;

Third, the report must repeatedly evaluate and prove that the intervention measures used in the experiment, the related risks of the research have been fully evaluated and can be satisfactorily controlled, and will not be greater than the potential benefits...

When helping to write the report before, Mage Nordmark threw her a whole book of outlines, saying "just write according to this". She studied it painfully for three days, understanding every word, but not understanding anything when put together.

Facing every sentence in it, she wanted to shout "Speak human language!"

Beatrice tearfully accepted her teacher's order. Mrs. Alva's gaze swept around, looking at the necromancy mage on her right:

"Then, you'll be responsible for finding relevant cases? The first batch... find ten first?"

The necromancy mage confidently accepted the task. It's just finding a few little hunchbacks, easy. Take a turn in the poorhouse, then take a turn in the slums where people eat relief grain regularly. Can't they find ten hunchback children?

Then, reality gave him a head-on blow.

He went to the poorhouse and turned around among the people kept by the necromancy school, there were none.

He went to the slums and turned around again, there were none either.

He casually asked a few managers of the poorhouse, and a few poor farm women, and got the same answer:

"How can children born with disabilities survive?"

"This kind of child, when they grow up they can't work, who can afford to feed such a mouth?"

"Most likely they were abandoned at birth?"

"I seem to have heard of some being sold. But for families like us, it's definitely impossible to raise them."

"Maybe rich and noble families can afford it?"

The necromancy mage looked around in bewilderment. Seeing that five days had passed, he could only go to see Archmage Edgar to report the situation and ask for instructions:

"Should we change the way we provide cases?"

"What do you mean?" Archmage Edgar was lying in front of a skull, looking intently at the patterns inside the skull with great interest. In his eyes, those patterns intertwined into runes were much more interesting than how to find a few patients:

"How do you want to change it?"

"Advertise in the newspaper to seek cases? Ask the divination mages to help find where there are such patients? Or, should we make a few ourselves?"

He suggested one method, and Archmage Edgar shook his head. At the end, Archmage Edgar pushed away the skull in front of him and shook his head vigorously:

"Forget about making a few ourselves. With Garrett's personality, if you dare to make a few, he'll dare to come straight to Black Crow Swamp. Forget it, I'll go ask Mrs. Alva..."

Since she said she would provide patients, she should know some relevant channels?

Mrs. Alva indeed knew. Enchantment mages often go deep into the civilian world, performing in some small taverns, theaters, big tents and other places, so they know more about some things. She very definitely pointed out a clear path:

"Go to the circus to find them."

"What?"

"Don't circuses always have some dwarfs? Don't they always have some people who are born deformed? And the children they buy, training them to crawl into wine jars, or keeping them in jars? Oh, and there are other gangs that buy children..."

Archmage Edgar floated out without a word. This kind of thing really makes people uncomfortable just hearing about it.

Although their Black Crow Swamp deals more with the dead than the living, except for a few psychologically twisted and dark perverts who enjoy killing, the vast majority of people would not do such things to innocent people!

He went straight to the city hall and asked for a list of circuses, mobile big tents, etc. that had performed in Nevis in the past month or were currently performing. There was no need for earlier ones, as they didn't know where they had gone, making it troublesome to find them.

Then, Archmage Edgar sent out his disciples and grandisciples. Still not enough, he ran to the emergency management department, then ran to the city guard, asking for help to find people—

A week later, eleven dwarfs of varying heights stood crookedly in a line in front of Garrett. The necromancy mage who brought them eagerly pointed to the front:

"These are all cases that meet your needs, Mage Nordmark! We checked them using your method, every one of them! Their spines are all crooked!"

Garrett slowly lowered his gaze. Of the eleven patients, some had childish faces, some were weathered; some looked like children, some were already adults.

The tallest didn't reach his shoulder, the shortest could only sit cross-legged, with thin and weak limbs. Seeing his gaze fixed, the necromancy mage bowed slightly:

"This is a 'jar person', they kidnap children and raise them in jars, and when performing to the public they say he was born like this. Very vicious, yes, very vicious, the circus leader has already been sent to prison by us."

But sending them to prison can't compensate for the damage done to a child's entire life. Garrett looked at them one by one, and crouched down in front of a seven or eight-year-old girl wearing a bright red dress:

"What's your name?"

"Lia." The little girl timidly curtsied, "Respected Mage, they call me Lia."

"This hunchback of yours... were you born like this, or did it become like this later?"

"I don't know, respected Mage."

Lia shook her head hard, her messy golden hair swinging from left to right, splattering a string of water droplets that fell on Garrett's shoes. Obviously, she had just been hurriedly washed before coming to the hospital, and her hair hadn't had time to dry.

Lia let out a soft cry of fear and immediately prostrated herself to wipe Garrett's shoes. Garrett lightly raised his hand, and two mage hands flew out left and right, gently lifting her up:

"Lia, if I say I can cure your hunchback, are you willing? — There may be some danger in the process, and there's a possibility of not being cured, or becoming paralyzed, but I'm willing to try my best to treat..."

"I'm willing! Sir, I'm willing!" Before he could finish, Lia eagerly answered. Her voice was shrill and high-pitched, trembling slightly, as if suppressing some fear. At the same time, several other hunchbacks rushed to speak:

"We're willing!"

"We're willing!"

"Mage, please try your best! It doesn't matter if there's danger!"

Garrett slowly frowned. This is not normal, he thought, this is not normal.

The patients he had seen in his previous life would hesitate again and again about treatment methods that might be dangerous. Even in this life, patients who could make decisions for themselves would always have tension and fear.

He took a deep breath, smiled and nodded at the necromancy mage who brought the people, calling someone to entertain him to rest. He himself held Lia's hand, led her to sit down next door, and poured her a cup of honey water.

After the little girl held the cup and sipped the entire cup of honey water, Garrett slowly asked:

"Lia, can you go home? Do you have parents?"

"No, Mage. — As far as I can remember, I grew up in the circus."

"What happened to the circus now?"

"They went on to the next place, sir. That gentleman in the black robe bought me."

Garrett frowned slightly. The circus left, what could a little girl do in the future? No home, should she be sent to an orphanage?

"Then, if I can cure you, are you willing?"

"...Mage, after you cure me, will you take me in and give me work?"

Garrett was silent. How could such a young child work? Wash dishes, do laundry, mop floors in the hospital?

His moment of silence had already given the little girl an answer. Lia carefully put the honey water back in its place, jumped off the chair, and bowed deeply:

"Thank you for your kindness, kind Mage. But if you can't take me in, can't give me a job, then please don't treat me. — This way, I can still find another circus and survive on my own performances..."