A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 870: Where Do We Kill Garrett?
"How many people have contracted typhoid?"
Seeing that the other party's attitude softened a bit and at least didn't cause trouble directly, Garrett also softened his tone slightly. He half-turned his face and asked the healer, who had breathed a sigh of relief and taken two steps forward:
"Who are the ones contracting typhoid? Are there any knights? Any mid-level or higher professionals? Have they been isolated?"
"Most of them are sailors." The healer was trying to maneuver—first bypassing Bernard, attempting to get closer, but retreated reflexively when Appa's tail swept, then tried another side. The circle he made had a radius of at least two meters.
There was no way; even though the master was sitting on its back, he didn't dare gamble that a high-level magical beast would suddenly get upset and kick him in the face...
Garrett simply jumped off the deer's back, patted Appa's front leg, letting it go play by itself. Then he listened to the healer's report:
"Three ships in total, 281 people, five fell ill as soon as they disembarked, four of whom were sailors, one knight—who was seriously injured. According to regulations, I isolated the healthy ones, but another seven have since fallen ill..."
This infection rate was quite high. Garrett quickly calculated: hmm, the incubation period for typhoid is usually 7 to 14 days, with a range of 3 to 60 days.
If there are no typhoid carriers like Typhoid Mary, who excrete the bacteria for life without getting sick themselves, then generally, closing off for half a month should identify the incubating patients.
As he was thinking, the other side couldn't wait to interject with more information. The knight, who claimed to be from some branch of an earl's family, was particularly agitated:
"Those are all sailors!"
"Yes, they're all sailors! None of us knights have typhoid!"
"A knight's physique, unless seriously ill or injured, how could such a small thing take us down!"
Hmm... there's some truth to that. Whether a person falls ill after ingesting typhoid bacteria depends largely on their defenses. Strong defenses mean the bacteria can't break through the gastrointestinal barrier, hence no illness.
But... this defense refers to the stomach acid barrier, not just the body. Garrett scanned the circle and raised his voice:
"So, you mean sailors should be isolated, but you knights don't need to be?"
His words, amplified by a voice amplification spell, spread far. The knights at the back had strange expressions, and from the village came distant noises—
It was clear that knights were a small proportion of the total population. If knights only spoke for themselves and not for the common sailors, then how would they lead people?
Even knights can't do everything themselves; they need sailors to run errands and do work! Especially on a ship, no matter how strong a knight is, he can't control all the sails or man seven or eight cannons alone...
Garrett smiled. He clapped his hands to attract everyone's attention and said loudly:
"First, let's confirm one thing: ordinary sailors can't withstand typhoid; only through quarantine can we minimize the chances of infection. Isn't that right?"
"But..."
Someone wanted to argue. Garrett interrupted:
"No buts. If you want everyone to live together and roam freely every day, we're not opposed. But you need to know that this will quickly increase the number of patients. Moreover, if you don't follow the council's management, we won't cover treatment costs!"
He counted on his fingers:
"Treatment fees, care fees, burial fees if anyone dies... Please settle these, and you can leave."
The knights' faces turned dark. A ship with over a hundred people might have three or four fall ill if quarantined, but without quarantine, there could be eight or nine, even ten or more, collapsing in groups.
More patients mean multiplying treatment costs, and they'd have to pay out of pocket? What a joke!
"Then..." someone tried to argue softly:
"Patients need to be isolated? Even healthy ones? Do we knights also need to be isolated like criminals? We want to go to the tavern! We want to go to town!"
"Shut up! The elven lady is here!" Someone pulled the would-be protester, who immediately quieted down. Garrett silently rolled his eyes:
Great, judging by this, they still want to visit the city's brothels? Close contact there would easily spread diseases! Good thing he's restrained, otherwise...
Without thinking, he answered:
"First, typhoid has an incubation period, meaning you're already infected but haven't shown symptoms yet."
"Second, in the early stages of typhoid, when symptoms are mild, you might just have a headache, fever, and dry cough. If you're not a professional healer, many will think it's just a cold."
"We don't even have colds..." someone muttered in the crowd. Garrett glanced at them:
"Again, you knights lived with the sailors on the same ship for a long time. Even if you're strong and suppress the illness, you might carry the germs—if we don't isolate you for a few days to ensure everyone's healthy, should we let you spread it in the city?"
There were murmurs and grumbles in the crowd, clearly, some were still unconvinced. Garrett ignored them and turned to the healer in charge of the quarantine site:
"Of course, knights and nobles deserve their due treatment. In terms of diet, furnishings, and bedding, adjustments can be made as appropriate. Walking dogs can also be handled by villagers, provided the dogs don't bite—"
"They don't bite! Philip is very obedient!" The knight with the dog hurriedly said, "Whoever helps walk my dog, I'll give a reward! One silver coin a day, is that enough?"
Judging by the villagers' and soldiers' faces around, it was more than enough. Garrett nodded in satisfaction:
"A knight's physique is indeed stronger, so the likelihood of infection is lower. If ordinary soldiers need to be isolated for seven days, knights can do it in five—"
There were restrained cheers from the crowd. Garrett's expression hardened, and he faced the crowd:
"Starting from the beginning of quarantine. If you sneak out, the count restarts from tomorrow."
"Of course, if the ship can leave within five days, you can depart with it as usual."
With reprimands, threats, and small benefits, he finally subdued this group. After a few more days, the ships were repaired, and all crew members, except the seriously ill, boarded and left.
Garrett watched the three ships sail away, then breathed a sigh of relief. He returned to his residence to continue writing his summary:
"During quarantine, the resistance of knights and professionals to diseases should be considered, and quarantine policies should be adjusted accordingly... Need to check relevant illness and treatment records back at headquarters..."
After a half-month inspection, he submitted his report to Nevis and was quickly summoned back for the next phase of research.
Meanwhile, his related information also traveled with the returning ships to Nevis, then reached the kingdom's army and the Nederland Inquisition.
"Garrett Nordmark?" The Grand Inquisitor Gravira in Nederland flipped through the new intelligence from his subordinates, his eyes indifferent, neither happy nor angry:
"He is indeed an important target, and he is on our list... Unfortunately, he is unrelated to our current task. Pass on the information, saying that this blasphemer has finally left Nevis; now is a good time to kill him."
"If anyone from the rear is coming, we can facilitate their efforts."
The information was sent post-haste to the rear. Within half a month, a special assassination team boarded a ship and quietly crossed the sea to the Kingdom of Kent.
By this time, Garrett had finished one round of research and returned to the coastal quarantine site for a second inspection—
"It's definitely him! The one visiting the village, it's definitely him! Such a conspicuous white deer, there's no way we could be wrong!"
The church's spy lay on the ridge, overlooking the village below, and whispered to the newcomers. Five operatives stood beside him, following his direction to look down:
A slender figure, hooded, trying to shrink into himself even while standing. He was the closest to the spy; the others instinctively kept a distance from them.
The second was burly and strong, standing there with chest muscles almost bursting his leather armor. He half-turned, speaking to the elder behind him, slightly bending to make it easier for the elder to hear.
The third, similarly burly, had particularly long arms and broad shoulders. He carried a long staff taller than himself on his back, with a grayish pouch at his waist, eyes sharp as lightning.
The fourth, seemingly the leader, was an elder with a kind face, eyes lowered, holding a long string of beads. Even while listening to the target directions, he kept moving the beads one by one.
The fifth, standing farthest from everyone else, was in a black robe from head to toe, almost hiding his eyes. A gust of wind brought a cold, decaying aura from him, making people nauseous.
"The target has been running between nearby villages, usually for two or three days." The spy's voice was urgent, excited:
"By my calculations, he should be moving tomorrow. You arrived just in time; there's only one road out of this village, and you'll have to pass the mountain pass below to find a fork..."
"Should we act in the village or wait for him to leave?"
"Wait outside the village? We could set traps first..."
The hooded figure quickly suggested. As he spoke, his fingers moved rapidly, clearly skilled at trap-setting. The long-armed man nodded in agreement:
"Yes, trap him first, then shoot. Too many people and obstacles in
the village make aiming difficult."
"I have no objections," the burly man said calmly, touching the long sword on his back—a heavy sword capable of shattering anything, making no difference where they fought.
With two votes in favor and one abstention, the decision was almost made. All eyes turned to the elder leader, waiting for his command. Unexpectedly, the black-robed man suddenly spoke:
"Fools!"
