Opening a Hospital in Another World Isn't That Hard, Right?
Chapter 42

All Right, Healing Magic Really Could Be Traded for Money

1,864 words•6 min read•3 views
14d ago•

"Henry!"

The old man frowned. As he scolded the young man, he couldn't help shifting his gaze and covertly sizing Gret up.

Gret's hand paused as he untied his money pouch. Looks like the old man suspects me...

It was no wonder he was suspicious. Gret's clothes didn't look like a noble's, a servant's, or an employee's, and he'd said he was paying out of his own pocket to buy the goods for himself. His status didn't match his income. That would arouse suspicion anywhere.

He could withstand scrutiny, but there was no need to invite trouble.

Gret said nothing and continued taking coins from his pouch. One Gold Coin, two Gold Coins... The old man's eyes flickered, and he immediately put on a smile.

"You're joking, sir. We're a small business. If we lower the price too much, we'll take a loss... If money's tight, you could start with two small bottles instead?"

As he spoke, he picked up a Gold Coin, looked it over from both sides, blew on it and held it to his ear, then even bit it. Gret's eyes twitched. At your age, you're still biting coins? Aren't you afraid you'll break a tooth?

Besides, these Gold Coins had been sealed in a box and buried underground for years. After touching this thing, I wouldn't dare eat anything without washing my hands. And you just put it straight in your mouth!

Intestinal infection, diarrhea, vomiting, fever...

Gret's thoughts went all over the place. He stared at the Gold Coin, his expression growing stranger by the second. The old man's face grew just as strange. He bent forward, spread his arms, and instinctively took up a defensive stance.

The sudden tension and exertion somehow made him gasp. The Gold Coin rolled right into the back of his throat!

The old man's face twisted at once. He made a few strangled sounds, clutched his throat, and his eyes bulged like a frog's.

Was it stuck?

The Gold Coin was stuck?

He was choking?!

Gret was startled. The young clerk beside him panicked too, frantically slapping the old man on the back.

"Sir! Mr. Hogan!"

The slaps had no effect. The old man's plump body pitched back and forth. He bent over and retched a few times, and soon his face turned purple. The young clerk held him with one arm and tried to pry open his mouth and dig at his throat with the other. At the same time, he shouted outside:

"Quick! Go get the alchemist!"

"Got it!" The doorman answered from outside the shop and took off running. When someone was sick or injured, they were supposed to call a priest, but... wasn't there an alchemist right next door?

Besides, when people couldn't afford a priest or the priests were too busy, they made do with an alchemist to save the patient. The treatment did work, more or less. It just took a little longer, what with having to pour in potions and all...

After shouting, the young clerk continued trying to save the old man. Suddenly, Gret braced one hand on the counter and vaulted over it!

"What are you doing!" the young clerk shouted. He wanted to help the old man and drive Gret away at the same time, and wound up flailing about in confusion. With his hands occupied, all he could do was yell:

"What are you doing! Get out! Get out!"

Gret ignored him, rushed forward, shoved the young clerk aside, and wrapped both arms around the old man from behind.

He was at least a first-level warrior. Compared to the knights, he was weak as a kitten, but he could still take a shop clerk one-on-one without breaking a sweat. The young clerk slammed into the cabinet behind him, pain burning through his body. He could only curl up and shout:

"Help! He's robbing us!"

"Who!"

"Who!"

Heavy footsteps thundered as a middle-aged man came rushing in, a glass bottle in his left hand and a wooden spoon in his right. Gret guessed he was probably the alchemist. Right behind him, the doorman ran in and searched the floor for a club, all the while yelling at Gret:

"What are you doing! Let go of Mr. Hogan!"

Gret had no time to deal with them. He planted his feet in a forward stance and wrapped both arms around the fat old man. With a slight pull, the old man sank down. His plump body slid straight onto Gret's right thigh, his upper body pressed forward.

"What are you doing!" the alchemist shouted. He was no longer young and didn't dare vault over the counter like Gret, so he hurried along, trying to get to the old man and give him medicine. He ran with a wheezing gasp and kept shouting, "Let him go! Let him go! He's choking, why are you squeezing his waist!"

By the time he had made it halfway around, Gret had already positioned himself and begun the rescue. He wrapped his arms beneath the old man's armpits, made a fist with his left hand, and clasped his left wrist from the front with his right. He pressed the web between his left thumb and index finger against the old man's upper abdomen, then pulled inward and upward with both arms!

Scrape!

Too fat! My hands slipped!

I hate dealing with fat people! You need an extra person just to lift them into bed. It's hard to get your hands in the right place for chest compressions. When you operate on their abdomen, one cut through the skin and you're already looking into the abdominal cavity; with him, one cut and all you'd see is fat! Even the anesthetic dose has to be recalculated, and the anesthesiologist has to be twelve times more careful!

And look at this. Even the Heimlich Maneuver slipped right off!

The clerk and the alchemist were still shouting. Gret, annoyed beyond measure, roared, "Shut up!"

"Get him!"

The doorman looked around and finally grabbed a door bolt, ducking under the counter. Gret shouted, "I'm saving him!" He moved his left fist higher and followed it with his right hand, placing them just below the old man's breastbone. He took a deep breath, tightened his arms again, and pulled!

Once!

Twice!

Bang!

The door bolt came crashing down. Gret had no time to dodge, so he just turned his head slightly and took the blow on his left shoulder. The pain unleashed a surge of strength in his arms. He drove them hard into the old man's chest for the third thrust!

"Cough!... Cough-cough-cough-cough-cough-cough!"

The old man suddenly began to cough. After a series of earth-shaking coughs, he opened his mouth and spat something out. It landed on the table with a clink, spun around a few times in the lamplight, and gleamed gold.

Gret relaxed all over. He released his arms and raised his right hand to rub his left shoulder, shooting the doorman a resentful look. The doorman had just begun his second swing. He stood frozen, right hand raised, eyes wide.

"That actually worked?!" The alchemist froze in place. His right hand went slack, and the glass bottle fell to the floor, shattering with a crack.

"Cough-cough-cough-cough... Hah, hah, hah..."

The old man coughed for a while before finally catching his breath. He turned his head and saw the doorman standing there with his club raised and Gret rubbing his shoulder, gasping. His gaze sharpened, and he froze on the spot. The alchemist rushed forward without a second thought.

"How did that work? Someone's choking, and holding his chest can save him? Please, please tell me! I'll pay you! I'll give you everything!"

He hurriedly began rummaging through his pockets. His money pouch, his gold chain—he even tried to rip the buttons off his coat, but they wouldn't budge. Gret broke out in a sweat. His right hand was busy casting a healing spell on his left shoulder, so he could only reach out with his left and try to calm the man.

"You don't have to do that... It's just a little trick. It's very simple..."

Damn it! I pressed against his diaphragm. Who said anything about holding his chest? If I don't explain this properly, people will get hurt!

The blow to his shoulder finally stopped hurting. Gret freed up his hand and began gesturing as he lectured the alchemist. Under the lamplight, the middle-aged alchemist nodded repeatedly. His back, initially bent forward at five degrees, gradually curved to ten, then slowly to fifteen.

The fat old man opened his mouth. Sweat immediately beaded across his plump forehead.

Why had he suspected that Gret didn't have any money? Why had he doubted the Gold Coins' legitimacy? Now he'd offended a genuine healer! Even the alchemist next door was listening to him respectfully!

And now Gret wasn't even looking at him. He was busy chatting with the alchemist...

The old man reacted quickly. As soon as Gret paused, he immediately bowed deeply in respect. The fat on his belly compressed into two folds.

"Honored healer! Thank you for saving my life, and please forgive my shop's rudeness..."

Gret hurriedly stopped his lecture and helped him up. The old man followed his pull and straightened, one hand on his lower back, then immediately began shouting orders at the young clerk.

"Rogue! Bring the things the healer asked for! Frank! Get a ream of the finest white paper—no, two reams! And ten Feather Pens, plus two large bottles of ink! Hurry!"

The doorman and the clerk scurried back and forth at his orders, their feet barely touching the ground. This time, Gret was the one trying to stop the commotion.

"No need... I can't afford all this..."

"How could I make you pay!" The old man laughed, puffed out his chest again, and thumped it loudly. "Honored healer, you saved my life. Even if I can't repay you, I have to cover the treatment fee, don't I?"

"But..." The Heimlich Maneuver, the fee for treatment... All right, in a situation like this, there usually wasn't time to wait until after registration and payment before treating the patient. Still, for such a simple procedure, could he really charge for it? At most, it'd be a few dozen bucks, right?

"No buts! This shop belongs to me. Surely this old man's life is worth more than a few sheets of paper?"

"...At least make it regular paper... Magic paper is too expensive..."

"Then add two more reams of regular paper! Rogue! Pack everything up and deliver it to the healer's home!"

The Heimlich Maneuver.

It is used for acute airway obstruction by a foreign object. Gret used a slightly modified version, which is suitable for patients who are obese or pregnant.

I recommend looking it up and memorizing it. It's very useful...

Only 23 people voted for the story yesterday, for a total of 103 votes, but 41 people left comments (possibly including likes). Is my writing getting worse?

Please keep voting for the story!

Please add it to your collection! Please vote! Please leave a review! Please vote for the monthly ticket!

I'll take anything!

End of Chapter
Prev
NovelSummaries
Next
How was this translation?

Like what you read?

Upgrade to the full novel to keep reading beyond the preview chapters.

Explore the wiki