A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 848: Cirilla: Oh, is someone a level-three warrior?

Since some of the poor were sent to Nevis to join the workers, there must be ships transporting people. Garrett easily found one, booked two cabins, and embarked on the journey home with Cirilla and Bernard.

Traveling with Cirilla, Garrett naturally sought the best conditions. As an eighth-level mage, he understandably secured a VIP cabin on the ship, right next to the captain’s room. The cabin was not large, only five square meters, with a bed, a bedside table, and a washbasin stand. As a distinguished guest, Garrett had two brass basins, polished so bright they reflected his face.

The carved bedside table had two layers. Opening the top drawer revealed two rare white porcelain teacups nestled in specially carved slots. Opening the lower cabinet door...

"Ew~~~! Pah, pah, pah, pah!"

Garrett regretted not using a mage’s hand to open the cabinet. Inside the wardrobe was a lidded chamber pot! Although it was presumably cleaned before they boarded, with no smell, it was still a chamber pot!

"Honorable Mage, this chamber pot will be emptied daily." The first mate respectfully pointed to the bell cord by the door:

"If you need anything, pull this bell cord, and someone will be at your service immediately. You can enjoy your meals in the captain's dining room or have them delivered to your cabin, as you wish."

For a merchant ship of this class, these conditions were excellent. Garrett smiled, nodded, and sent him out, then knocked on Cirilla’s door next door.

Cirilla had her own cabin, twice the size of Garrett’s if they didn’t count Appa. For the silver dragon girl used to the mage tower, even transforming into her original form at the tower’s peak, this single cabin felt very cramped. However, for just a few days, she didn’t mind staying with Garrett...

And she could explore the ship! From the high mast to the lowest cargo hold, she could venture anywhere to see interesting things!

No one would refuse her! Of course not, who would refuse an elven beauty?

Except...

"Cirilla, don’t go down to the lower deck! It’s filthy down there!"

"If it’s filthy, why are you going? I’m coming too!"

"…"

I’m going to check the conditions of the lower-deck laborers, to see how their health might be affected and if there’s a risk of disease. Why are you going down there?

Such a filthy, possibly stinky place, I can handle it alone!

I even waited a whole day, until the ship was at sea for a day, to see the most authentic conditions! I don’t even know what it’s like down there now...

But Cirilla ignored him. The silver dragon girl playfully flicked her fingers, a breeze encircling Garrett, and raised several light orbs:

"Hurry up! If you don’t go, I’ll kick you~~~"

"Cirilla! Remove the wind barrier! I can’t study with it there!"

The breeze whooshed away from his ears so fast it created a small vacuum, causing a buzzing sound. Garrett rubbed his ears, helplessly descending the dark, narrow stairs.

Down one flight, then another. Suddenly, a pungent stench assaulted him, making him stagger back, almost slipping.

"Cough... Cough, cough... Cough, cough!"

He barely grabbed the handrail with one hand, covering his nose with the other, eyes watering from the smell. What is this stench!

What is this stench!

If Garrett had to describe it, it was like the emergency room at night with ten drunks, five diarrhea patients, and three diabetic foot cases, all in a ten-seat waiting room, locked in overnight...

"Serves you right for rejecting my wind barrier... hehe..."

Behind him, Cirilla’s teasing voice was low. Garrett, too busy to argue, waved his hand and cautiously continued down.

At the end of the stairs, by the light of his spell, he quickly cast more spells:

【Resistance Boost】!

【Cat’s Grace】!

And two more 【Unseen Servants】 with orders to catch him if he slipped...

This mixed passenger-cargo ship had its bottom deck packed with people! People sitting, lying, squatting, each with less than a square meter of space...

Or exactly one square meter?

Anyway, if Garrett wanted to walk around the lower deck, he’d have to either fly over their heads or carefully step around the limbs...

And be careful not to trip.

"Someone seems to be a level-three warrior."

Cirilla muttered behind him.

Garrett pretended not to hear. If I didn’t hear, I won’t be embarrassed... And the lower deck is so dark, with me in front, you won’t see me blush!

Not seeing, not seeing, not seeing...

Fortunately, Garrett quickly realized he didn’t need to worry about tripping. As the light orbs rose, the people in front of him scuttled away, trying to curl up.

Those sitting or lying down wriggled to make themselves smaller. Some even pushed others to get out of his way...

Soon, a two-meter-wide path opened straight to the opposite cabin door.

Given the lower deck’s ten-meter width, they were practically piled on top of each other.

Garrett wanted to reassure them, but more urgent investigations took precedence. Lifting his trousers, he walked and took a deep breath of the air:

The long-fermented stench of sweat.

The sour stench of vomit.

Fishy odor.

Strong ammonia smell.

In short, from a doctor’s perspective, he didn’t smell anything that immediately signaled danger.

As for the vomit, it was clear these farmers, suddenly thrown to sea, were seasick. If only 50% were seasick, that would be lucky.

"What do you eat on this trip?"

He bent down, asking the nearest farmer. The man instinctively shrank back, lowering his head:

"The ship provides meals, sir. A bowl of porridge and half a bread each."

That’s not enough nutrition. Calories, protein, fat, vegetables all need to be increased. Garrett thought quickly. He wanted to ask more, but the ship suddenly lurched, triggering a wave of vomiting around him.

"Do you vomit here?"

"Sorry, sir." The farmer tried to wipe his vomit with his already filthy rags:

"We have no choice... only here, sir..."

"Where do you use the bathroom?"

"In the corners..."

Garrett looked where he pointed. On the left and right corners were large barrels, about half a person high. The area around them was slightly less crowded, presumably the makeshift toilets.

"How often are these emptied?"

"Don’t know, sir... No one tells us..."

Overcrowding.

Insufficient food.

Malnutrition.

Frequent vomiting, foul air, unemptied waste barrels.

As for medicine, judging by their appearance, certainly none.

Each condition was a breeding ground for disease.

Garrett’s frown deepened. He quickly surveyed and turned to leave:

"Cirilla, we’re going back!"

For short trips, this might not cause deaths; but for crossing the turbulent sea to the New World...

This won’t do!