A Hospital in Another World?

"What's this?"

Garrett glanced at the palm of the old mage. Unfortunately, he had no idea.

It was a spindle-shaped stone, tiny, less than half a finger's breadth. Pale yellow, translucent, not shining like a gem.

He looked at Gelman, wanting an explanation—or at least permission to take it. But before he could speak, two voices erupted simultaneously:

"The Aen Stone? Master, that's too valuable!"

"This is mine! Mine!"

Gelman, the mage, and the old mage's grandson, the brat George, were the voices. Garrett's gaze shifted, catching the brat lunging and snatching the stone.

"Grandpa said it's mine! He promised!"

"Who said it's for you!" The old mage roared, giving chase. The brat wailed as he zigzagged from east to west, then west to east. Despite his age, the old mage struggled to catch up. After a couple of rounds, he stopped, panting heavily, shouting, "I said I'd give it to you once you reached level 1 as a mage! You haven't, so it's not yours! Stop! Hand it over!"

"You!"

Then came a string of spells. Garrett couldn't discern what they were, only seeing the brat stumble and fall. The old mage lunged, but the brat, agitated, shoved the object into his mouth:

"I won't give it to you! Uh, uh... cough, cough, cough!"

Angry shouts and chaos filled the air. Garrett didn't intervene, silently watching from the sidelines.

If they didn't want to give him the Aen Stone, so be it. His upbringing taught him that what he earned was his, no matter how good someone else's stuff might be—it was theirs. Besides, he had no clue what this stone even was...

So, what exactly was it?

Garrett wracked his brain. In his past life, in novels and games, it seemed, vaguely, that he'd heard this name. It was something that flew around a mage's head? An equipment that added attributes to a mage?

Seemed quite flashy...

Just thinking about it made Garrett grimace. The old mage and the brat, one escaping, the other chasing and yelling—it meant nothing to him, merely entertainment. If only he had a phone or internet, he'd have loved to record it and post a video titled: "The Brat and His Bearish Grandpa"...

But then, a cough sounded, and Garrett's expression changed.

That cough was severe! The brat was rolling on the ground moments ago, shoving the stone into his mouth—what if he'd swallowed it?

Choking!

Foreign object in the windpipe!

Foreign object in the esophagus!

A series of bold, highlighted dangerous symptoms flooded his mind. Garrett spread his stride, rushing over, shouting as he ran:

"Don't fight! Be careful! Don't choke on it!"

Midway, his feet slipped. The ground was perfectly even, yet Garrett slipped, falling flat on his back.

"..." Ouch, that hurts!

Garrett propped himself up with one hand, massaging his tailbone with the other, wincing in pain. Only then did he hear Elliot's warning nearby:

"Watch out for the Grease Spell!"

Next time, could you warn me sooner, big brother? Garrett thought, frustrated.

He groaned as he got up. Not far away, the old mage was also helping the brat up, both looking grim.

"Where's the Aen Stone? Spit it out!"

"He swallowed it..." The ten-year-old boy sobbed. The old man furrowed his brow, and Gelman, the mage, hurriedly tried to comfort them:

"He swallowed it, so be it. As long as the child's fine. The Aen Stone isn't big, it'll come out intact in a few days, still usable."

Hopefully, he did swallow it. The Aen Stone wasn't large, its tip not sharp. The probability of it scratching the esophagus was low. As long as it went down the esophagus and luck was on his side, it'd most likely come out normally in a few days.

The old mage looked displeased. He wanted to scold but couldn't bring himself to. He pressed the kid's forehead fiercely:

"Really swallowed it? You... you!"

The boy bowed his head, not daring to fuss anymore. The old mage intended to explain to Garrett but found himself speechless. After a moment's hesitation, he muttered, "Made you witness a farce," then pulled the kid and left.

"Garrett, you've had a tough day," Gelman, the mage, sighed, watching the old man disappear. He reassured Garrett:

"We've seen your efforts. Don't worry, for the whole next year, your contributions won't go unnoticed in the Mage Tower."

"Thank you, Master... Then, may I take my leave?"

Gelman nodded, preoccupied. Garrett seized the chance to slip away. Back in his second-floor dorm, he couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning, he eventually got up, lit a lamp, and began writing and drawing.

The plan to clean up the city during the day was shut down midway, and he couldn't swallow that—

He'd write the plan clearly, in detail, outlining the operations and profit models, and discuss it with the teacher!

And the Mage Tower, only today did he realize it also had profit demands—bet they were interested!

Hmph!

Garrett wrote until late into the night before finally dozing off. In his dreams, a diamond-shaped stone kept swirling around him, uncatchable. Twice he attempted to grab it, nearly startling himself awake...

The next morning, after his early meditation, Garrett was heading upstairs for breakfast. As he opened the door, he saw a servant outside, wiping away. Upon seeing him, the servant hurriedly approached, offering a small basket of dew-covered berries.

Garrett glanced at him oddly. This servant usually took care of the daily needs of the mages, disappearing after tidying up the living room or setting down a pitcher of water. If Garrett ever wanted a late-night snack, he had to forage in the kitchen himself...

What was happening now? Heard about the old mage praising him last night? Word spreads fast!

He took the basket absentmindedly, planning to snack on it during his morning reading break. The servant immediately bent down, half-smiling, half-worried:

"Master Mage, I heard... our Mage Tower's assessment... isn't going smoothly?"

Whether it went smoothly or not, what did that have to do with him? Garrett nodded vaguely and proceeded towards the stairs. The servant followed suit, stooping lower:

"I heard the Mage Tower might cut resources? Cut salaries? Will they lower our pay? Will they kick us out?"

"...Is that really necessary?" Garrett paused, finding it a bit funny. "Even if they cut resources, would it affect your pay that much?"

He waved it off, climbing the stairs. Halfway up, he slapped his forehead in realization:

Why would they worry about a few coins?

These Mage Tower servants, although they bowed and scraped in the tower, representing it outside, at least they were village heads of sorts. Their demeanor and income put them in the middle class.

What they truly feared was a change in leadership at the Mage Tower, losing their secure jobs, right?

Even a mere servant seemed more anxious than him...

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