A Hospital in Another World? C.277

Garrett, the senior healer of the Spring Goddess Temple, now acknowledged as the High Priest, stood with a stern face, silent. Instead, a nobleman from the back row stood up, bowed to the podium, and respectfully addressed:

"Esteemed Archmages, I mean no offense, but out of deep religious reverence, I must ask: For ages, it has been the noble Spring Goddess who nourishes her people with pure water sources. Why then, shouldn’t the task of providing drinking water be entrusted to her servants?"

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Of course, that’s because—we’re not on good terms with them!

Garrett stood rigidly in place, maintaining a calm demeanor, resolutely keeping silent. freewebnσvel.cøm

Indeed, Garrett wasn’t familiar with the Spring Goddess Temple at all. The Nature God Sect was his home, and the Temple of War had always cooperated well. But as for the Spring Goddess Temple?

If it weren’t for the favorable impression Donald, the priest, had left him, the temple would be a complete mess for Garrett.

Moreover, the faith in the Spring Goddess was the kingdom’s state religion, with every monarch needing the Pope’s coronation. The royal family and nobility naturally fell under the temple’s influence, with noble children, especially second and younger sons and daughters, sent to the Spring Goddess Temple for education unless there were special reasons.

But a place can only have one ruler. Relying on the royal family’s Spring Temple, they were marginalized in the City of Mages, attracting little attention.

Garrett had traversed Nevis City, only to find a small temple tucked away in the garden district. The plaza at the entrance was only slightly larger than that of the Spring Goddess Temple in Hartland City. What’s more important, in the poor districts, he hardly found any drinking water facilities set up by the temple...

Hand it over to them?

Humph!

In the water supply plan, Garrett deliberately avoided considering the Spring Goddess Temple, feeling no psychological pressure.

The members of the evaluation committee cooperated well with him. The protective mage coughed pretentiously, gesturing downward:

"Viscount Breau, thank you for your input. Mage Nordmark’s plan is still in its preliminary stages. If we decide to implement it, the council will deploy more high-level mages to refine it.

—Of course, we welcome the participation of the Spring Goddess clergy in this sanitation plan."

He nodded politely to the High Priest. The High Priest could only nod in return, unmoved, as if he hadn’t heard Garrett’s intention to exclude them. The mages smiled amiably, nodding at Garrett:

"Besides the clean drinking water plan, what other initiatives do you think should be implemented in public health?"

Ah, public health, a comprehensive system indeed. Garrett wished he could recite everything he had learned in his previous life or at least throw over the version he had submitted to the council. But for now, he had to pick out the most important ones:

"Increase public toilets."

"Prohibit public defecation and littering."

"Establish specialized infectious disease hospitals..."

Every time he mentioned one, the face of the official from the budget committee opposite him would darken by a shade. Behind the officials, a group of people who looked like civilian affairs officials and merchants sighed and lamented. It seemed like every project Garrett mentioned was cutting into their flesh.

Perhaps... that was the reality...

The evaluation committee member from the Transmutation School noted down a few key points happily and knocked on the table. In an instant, Garrett’s hackles rose:

Why are you smiling like that?

Your smile, it’s so sly!

Someone’s up to no good!

He subconsciously tightened his grip on the manuscript in his hand, even hiding it beside him. The Grand Mage, however, smiled warmly, waving for him to take his seat, then beckoned to the other side of the council:

"Ladies and gentlemen, do you have any suggestions regarding the funding for public health construction and organization operation?"

The head of the budget committee stood up first. His face was filled with sorrow, but his tone was firm, not giving an inch:

"Esteemed Grand Mage, we admire the foresight of the evaluation committee and appreciate Mage Nordmark’s deep concern for the residents of Nevis City.

However, according to the budget arrangement of the City Hall, there are simply no extra funds available for expenditure.

If the evaluation committee decides to establish public health facilities, either additional taxes must be levied, or alternative sources of funding must be found."

He bowed deeply and resumed his seat. Beside him, a slender man stood up, closest to the table’s end, closest to the secretary’s position.

As soon as the man rose, he instinctively reached for the table, gripping a plain black cane in his hand.

What’s this?

Garrett couldn’t help but take notice. The man seemed to realize something was off and quickly returned the cane to its place. Aurora Worton seized the opportunity to whisper disdainfully in his ear:

"Pah, tax dog."

Tax... oh, a tax officer.

Garrett realized.

Aurora had mentioned once that her family was in the wine business and had probably been at odds with tax officials before.

I wonder if there are tax farmers in this era; if so, getting into trouble with them would be even worse...

But now Aurora was a Level 5 mage and had been accepted by the Grand Mage. Things should be better now?

The tax officer bowed to the podium and began to speak. As soon as he opened his mouth, Garrett frowned:

Contrary to what the Grand Mage had informed him, the man did not oppose Garrett’s ideas. On the contrary, he launched into a fervent praise of the importance of the public health cause.

Gesturing wildly, cheeks flushed, eyes almost shining, Garrett felt somewhat uncomfortable witnessing the scene.

As the tax officer spoke, he suddenly shifted the topic:

"As the Chief Tax Officer of the City Hall, I believe that acquiring more funds is quite easy. The hearth tax in Nevis City is now so low that it’s almost non-existent. Just adding a copper coin per person would be enough to cover these expenses."

"What’s a hearth tax?"

Garrett whispered to Aurora. Worton shrugged:

"Oh, it’s like a head tax. Two silver coins per household per year, or if the population is particularly small, two copper coins per person."

What?

A head tax?

Garrett frowned. Two silver coins might not seem like much, but considering it was already the end of the year—demanding taxes suddenly might disrupt the financial flow of households. He raised his hand immediately:

"Excuse me, Mr. Tax Officer, which income class of residents would primarily have difficulty paying the hearth tax?"

"Mostly the poor, of course!" The tax officer answered without hesitation. After blurting it out, he realized something was off and smiled at Garrett:

"Mage Nordmark, please don’t worry. These commoners are just naturally cunning, lacking respect for the council and the kingdom. Whenever you go to collect taxes, they’ll claim to be poor, have no money, only a worthless life. They’ll hide bread, salted fish, even hide money under the floorboards or in the ceiling rafters, making it impossible for you to confiscate anything.

But our young fellows are great! As long as we get serious, we can definitely collect

it—besides, this money is also spent on them!"

"That won’t do." Garrett shook his head immediately. His mind raced, trying to think of ways to convince the other party, finally turning to the podium and bowing deeply:

"Members of the committee, I oppose the imposition of a hearth tax.

As Mr. Budget Committee previously mentioned, a water deliveryman can only earn five silver coins a month, and a washerwoman earns three and a half silver coins per month.

Averaged out per day, that’s only a copper coin or a coin and a half—a day’s worth of sustenance!

A copper coin is insignificant to the wealthy, but to the poor, it’s equivalent to going hungry for a day. It might mean they can’t survive an illness one day, or can’t dodge a speeding carriage.

We’re undertaking public health initiatives to help the poorest citizens, and we mustn’t drive them to their deaths before we even start!"

The hall erupted into murmurs once more. Some nodded, some shook their heads, some showed approval, some frowned. The Level 8 mage from the medical branch even smiled and gave Garrett a thumbs-up.

Behind the tax officer, in four rows of seats from low to high, a voice suddenly rose, deliberately changed, as if disguised:

"Then who should pay? We don’t need these things anyway, so we won’t pay!"

Not even daring to show their faces? Garrett glanced up. He didn’t see the speaker, only a group of people clapping and giving thumbs-ups. Some even dared to shout:

"Exactly! We don’t drink that water anyway!"

"We don’t need toilets where we live!"

"Why should we pay!"

Garrett raised an eyebrow. Garrett glanced at Elder Wood, but he remained steadfast, clenching his fists and then making a slashing motion downwards!

That moment, Garrett heard the sigh of the Elder a few days ago:

"Young Garrett... if you want to accomplish this, you can’t be soft, you know! Some people, you have to show them who’s boss!"

Should I take action against this person? Or at least confront him?

Forget it, being too cowardly to show his face is too spineless, and it’s not interesting to confront him directly. Garrett didn’t directly drag the person out, but instead turned to the podium, raising his voice:

"Members of the committee, do I have a say in the funding sources for the organization?"

"If this organization is indeed established, you will be the first person in charge, so of course, you have a say." The Grand Mage smiled kindly:

"Not only do you have a say, but for projects related to your duties, you can even collect money directly at the door—of course, provided you can collect it."

Do they really want me to take action? Elder Wood, you were right!

Garrett took a deep breath, his aura fully unleashed. Though a doctor, he was used to arguing with students, junior doctors, patients, and their families. Stepping outside the council chamber now, he opened his mouth, and silence fell across the room:

"Who pollutes, who governs. Who takes water, who pays. All those workshops along the river, dumping garbage into the river while drawing water, they all have to pay up. Anyone object?!"