Garrett thus embarked on a routine of sleeping on the wagon, taking photos—ah no, conducting animal experiments on the wagon, treating locals off it, and earning a happy life for the experimental animals.
On the first day, only he, Bernard, and Mage Simond were on the wagon, plus that half-tormented deer. Upon reaching their destination, they slaughtered the deer, dissected it, invited everyone to a meat feast, delightfully content.
The second day saw Master Talbert joining them on the wagon, keenly observing their experiments. When he learned that this treatment method might help with miner’s lung disease, Master Talbert eagerly inquired:
"May I give it a try?"
"Uh... no..."
Garrett was sweating profusely. Master, you’re too old! You’re over 350 years old! Even if dwarves can live up to 400 years, your age is equivalent to over 80 years in human terms!
Generally, the target patients for whole lung lavage therapy are those below 65 years old...
Moreover, the old master’s cardiopulmonary function is very poor, often needing to sit up and use low-flow oxygen to sleep at night. Garrett even identified tuberculosis bacilli in his sputum.
Active pulmonary tuberculosis, severe pulmonary dysfunction, major organ diseases or dysfunctions such as the heart, brain, liver, kidneys...
One by one, all these are contraindications for the surgery!"Ah... oh..." Master Talbert was deeply disappointed:
"You’re so young, don’t be so timid! I’m willing to try! There’s divine magic to back it up!—You magicians are always bold!"
Garrett straightforwardly rolled his eyes.
That’s what magicians do. I’m a doctor, thank you.
And also a deputy chief physician, with a senior professional title! Only chief physicians with a full professional title can preside over new technologies, new project surgeries, or high-risk scientific research project surgeries approved by the authorities! I’m still one level short!
Unless absolutely necessary, I would not violate contraindication rules and rashly perform surgery on patients!
Master Talbert left in disappointment. Then, on the third day, he brought his apprentice, Vigran, squeezing onto Garrett’s wagon...
"Master Nordmark, could you take a look, would it be okay to let him try?"
Garrett:
"..."
"..."
"Enough already! I haven’t even finished my animal experiments! I killed two rabbits today! Human trials are absolutely out of the question right now! Get out! My wagon can’t fit any more!"
It always seemed like the failures were due to blood oxygen saturation... Even if he had the cheapest oximeter!
A clip-on type would do!
Back in my previous life, it only cost a bit over a hundred on Taobao!
Now, trying to rig one up myself, I realize it’s as tough as climbing to heaven. First, I need two light-emitting diodes, one emitting 660 nanometers of infrared light, the other, 905~910 or 940 nanometers!
Just this requirement alone makes Garrett want to die—
If he knew how to make diodes, would he still not be able to produce a rectifier, having to use the most ancient mercury arc rectifier?
That’s not the end of it. After making the light-emitting diodes, there’s the chip to make, memory to construct, programming in the microprocessor...
Taking the photoelectric signal provided to the microprocessor, processing it with the formula, and displaying it on the LCD screen...
Right, and an LCD screen to make!
—Better think about how to replace it with magic.
"Let’s try this again... Bernard, cover that rabbit’s mouth and nose, don’t smother it, I’ll try a new spell..."
Hmm, the divination series has a first-level magic called Bloodline Identification, which can discern the race of a target with just a drop of blood;
The necromancy series also has a first-level magic called Life Detection, capable of discerning whether a creature is dead, weak, severely injured but desperately wanting to live, or completely healthy.
Garrett intended to test whether these two spells could discern blood oxygen saturation, or if not, could their characteristics be combined to create a new, useful spell?
—After all, if a creature is weak or severely injured, its blood oxygen saturation is likely to be problematic!
Garrett cast spells swiftly. Now a fourth-level mage, full of spiritual energy, casting dozens of first-level spells a day was no problem at all. Besides, researching magic isn’t about quantity—
Each spell cast required calculation, research, and comparison. Draft papers piled up in front of Garrett, stacking up rapidly...
"Ah! Bernard! Bernard! Don’t let the rabbit eat my drafts!!"
See, this is the pain of researching on a wagon. If only he was in his own mage
tower, at least he’d have a table, and the drafts wouldn’t be on the floor of the wagon...
Garrett silently resented. However, three days later, he lost even this condition for research:
The wagon reached the end of its road. The next journey involved climbing mountains, crawling through caves, scaling peaks, and more cave traversing...
Garrett slowly looked up, surveying the distance. The mountain path before him was steep and rugged, seemingly endless at a glance. Turning left, then right, the ascent angle was at least over 15 degrees.
This mountain path, magic horses won’t do, right? Should he borrow someone’s Shadowsteed? Or should he climb on foot for several days straight?
Suddenly regretting this trip, how to break it!
"Don’t worry, little mage." Master Talbert came over with a laugh, leading two goats. The one he guided towards Garrett was snowy in fur, steel in horns, with an old saddle on its back, clearly a local daily mount:
"These creatures are nimble on mountain paths, far better than horses. How about it? Want to give it a try?"
Garrett observed closely. Goats are known climbers, having watched videos in his previous life of them scaling cliffs, reservoirs, and nearly 90-degree steep slopes with ease. Such 15, 20-degree mountain paths should pose no problem. As for carrying capacity...
The goat led by the old dwarf was robust, with a broad back and solid legs, not appearing to struggle under his weight.
In fact, Garrett saw from afar a group of dwarf cavalry approaching. With armor and weapons, their combined weight probably 1.5 times his, they sat securely on goat backs—
Garrett was somewhat satisfied. Moreover, the goat’s fur was clean, and its large horns stretched from its head to its shoulders, easily graspable when seated on the saddle. Its height was not too tall, allowing one’s toes to touch the ground with a slight stretch.
Security feeling +1, +1, +1...
"This goat is fantastic! May I ride it?"
He tentatively reached out his hand. Unexpectedly, the goat snorted disdainfully, turning its head away, presenting its back to him. Master Talbert chuckled by the side:
"Hahaha, it doesn’t like you! Little mage, have you slaughtered too many goats along the way, and it dislikes your scent?"
Nonsense!
I bathe every day!
And use cleansing spells!
I’m not covered in formalin!
After thinking, Garrett took out some seeds, held them in his palm, and gently activated a spell. The goat suddenly turned back, its long tongue scooping up the tender green grass from his hand.
Garrett mounted the goat through bribery. On the goat’s back, after enduring backaches, numb legs, and delayed research progress, he climbed for two days and crawled through a cave for another, successfully arriving at the dwarf court.
On the fourth day, sore all over, Garrett listlessly sat down at the negotiation table.
—Taking a back seat.
Not having to negotiate with the dwarf elders was a relief... he wanted to catch up on sleep...
"The price of ore is too low! At this rate, there’s no point in doing business next year!"
Garrett was instantly jolted awake.
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