A Hospital in Another World?

Chapter 915: Mr. Guide: So, Ive Hired a Super Tycoon?

Archmage Edgar arrived in a rush. His sallow, skeletal face was unusually covered in a thin layer of sweat. His deep black robe was wrinkled, looking as if it had just been pulled out of a pickle jar.

Behind the archmage, a middle-aged warrior slowly stumbled down. His deep chestnut hair, streaked with silver, and his slightly worn leather armor were pushed up by his belly, indicating a period of leisure.

The middle-aged warrior had two swords at his waist and a large, bulging leather bag on his back. As soon as he came down, he leaned against the side of the carriage, in a lazy manner that suggested he could lie down at any moment.

Sweat...

Garrett was speechless for a moment. He silently looked up at Archmage Edgar:

This guy?

This guy?

Is this the guide you want to introduce to me?

Archmage Edgar was also at a loss for a moment. However, this guide was indeed the best and most suitable person he could find and persuade in the short term. He could only brace himself and introduce Garrett:

"This is Baronsimo, a level 12 warrior who has traveled in the New World for a long time...""Bard." The warrior interrupted. He neither greeted nor introduced himself, only lazily lifting his eyelids and giving Garrett a glance. That look made Garrett automatically imagine:

"So, this is the kid I have to take care of?"

Fortunately, the warrior didn't say it out loud. To prove his profession, he reached into the leather bag on his back and pulled out an instrument that looked like a cross between a guitar and a ukulele. He played a short tune casually.

While playing, he hummed softly, tilting his head slightly, seeming quite pleased with himself. If Garrett wasn't mistaken, there was a half lipstick mark on the inside of his leather armor's collar, with the other half on his neck.

If Archmage Edgar had dragged him out of such a place, Garrett could understand why this man was so reluctant.

After finishing the tune, Baronsimo swept his fingers across the strings, producing a series of cheerful notes. Garrett's eyebrows twitched:

A warm aura enveloped him, its effect roughly equivalent to half a cheer spell—like a small dose of adrenaline? This self-proclaimed bard had some real skills...

However, in this world, bards didn't seem as powerful as mages or warriors. As a profession that could use limited elemental power, this bard didn't seem to be a level 12 warrior.

He glanced at Old Morgan, who nodded slightly with a serious expression. His lips moved, and a sound drifted to Garrett's ear:

"I've heard of him. A level 12 warrior, indeed, has stayed in the New World for a long time and is quite experienced. Moreover, his reputation is quite good."

Garrett breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced at Archmage Edgar again, who gave a bitter smile and handed Garrett a metal piece:

"He has traveled in the New World for nearly 20 years, repeatedly venturing deep into its interior, and is very familiar with the local customs and conditions. Mage Nordmark, if you are going to the New World, hiring him as a guide can greatly enhance your safety."

Garrett looked down at the metal piece in his hand. It was a semi-circular fragment, less than half a palm in size, with twisted and broken edges. Judging by the front patterns, it might be a family crest or something—

Although he didn't know what it represented, Archmage Edgar's attitude suggested it was some kind of promise? A token that could request the guide's service or fulfill a specific task?

He didn't know what price Archmage Edgar had paid to obtain this item. After all, Archmage Edgar was currently level 13, and hiring a level 12 warrior with specific expertise wasn't easy...

Garrett nodded solemnly. Then, handing his black cat to Cirilla, he walked slowly towards the warrior named Baronsimo, holding the metal piece:

"Mr. Baronsimo, hello, I am Garrett Nordmark, a level 9 mage. My friend Lynn is in danger in the New World, and I need to rescue him as soon as possible..."

Without waiting for a response, Garrett gently waved his hand, casting a silence spell. Seeing the warrior's mouth open without making a sound, and then closing after a few syllables, Garrett canceled the spell and spoke solemnly:

"However, I cannot entrust my and my friend's lives to a reluctant guide. Mr. Baronsimo, if you do not wish to go, please take back this token, and I will consider your promise fulfilled."

The middle-aged warrior's eyes flickered slightly. Then, with a very straightforward wave of his hand, his tone still lazy but resolute:

"Alright, you don't need to say that. Since I owe a favor—" he pointed at the metal piece in Garrett's hand, "I will keep my promise. I'll take you there and back, as long as you listen, don't act recklessly, and don't wander off. I, Baronsimo, will stay with you from the east coast to the west coast of the New World, from the northernmost to the southernmost point."

"Hey!"

Cirilla was displeased. What kind of talk was that? With her around, Garrett wouldn't be safe? Did he need this guy to point out the obvious and make Garrett behave?

Garrett, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile. This guy's tone was bad, but his reminders were indeed important for newcomers going to unfamiliar and especially wild places.

He remembered similar instructions from his team leader during an aid mission in Africa:

Listen, don't act recklessly, stay with the group, and don't touch everything you see... something that looks like a bump could be a nest of army ants!

He smiled back at Cirilla, winking. After calming the Silver Dragon, he turned to Baronsimo, solemnly extending his hand and gesturing towards the Mage Tower:

"Rest assured, I will respect the wisdom and experience of professionals. Now, could you please check our preparations for the journey and point out any missing items? Time is tight, and if we find a suitable ship, we may leave in two or three days—"

Baronsimo grunted in response, following Garrett inside. Soon, the Mage Tower echoed with his hissing intake of breath:

"500 pounds of flour, 500 pounds of jerky, 500 pounds of powdered milk? 200 pounds of butter seasoning blocks, 100 pounds of glucose... what is this... 200 pounds of sugar cubes? How many space bags do you have?"

I only have one that holds 150 pounds! More items would need to be carried in backpacks! Even for a mage, a space bag that holds 1500 pounds would be considered very wealthy!

"500 pounds of freeze-dried vegetable packs, 10 pounds of sodium ascorbate to prevent scurvy, three sets of spare leather armor, three sets of spare mage robes, clothes... underwear... socks... shoes... are you moving? These supplies would last five years!"

"One set of alchemy equipment, two sets of spare alchemy equipment, one penicillin production line, one streptomycin production line, 5000 doses of penicillin, 5000 doses of streptomycin, 5000 doses of cowpox vaccine..."

Baronsimo silently closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again, and opened them. Even though he had accepted the idea that his new employer might be a super tycoon, he still couldn't help but complain:

"Do you want to take the Mage Tower to the New World?"

"Sorry, the Mage Tower can't float yet."

Garrett spread his hands innocently. When would he be able to make the Mage Tower float... The myth of the Mithril Core from his previous life, he wondered if there was a substitute in this world...

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