A Hospital in Another World?

Chapter 170

The teleportation box closed slowly, alternating between light and darkness. Within the black outer walls adorned with silver threads, a radiant glow swiftly circulated, flickering like breath.

Upon reopening, a pure white sheet lay inside the box, half the size of an A4 paper. It bore the title of the thesis, abstract, keywords, Garrett Nordmark’s name, and a series of alphanumeric codes. The mechanical voice unemotionally announced:

"Please keep your receipt. After 24 hours, use the receipt to check the feedback on your thesis."

Having not seen the box move just now, Garrett wondered if his thesis had been... sent away? Sent to whom? Who was responsible for accurate distribution? Who would be the judge?

Garrett stared fixedly at the teleportation box, wanting to scrutinize it into revealing answers. However, the box remained motionless, devoid of human service in the room, with only the mechanical voice repeating:

"Please keep your receipt. After 24 hours, use the receipt to check the feedback on your thesis."

Garrett: "…"

Silently, he retrieved the paper and left the room. Behind him, the teleportation box descended, and the cover slid back into place. The mechanical voice bid farewell without any sentiment, "Welcome again..."

...Didn’t quite feel the welcome, but thanks.

Turning towards the adjacent area for mage management, following the receptionist’s advice, Garrett proceeded to register and acquire a mage badge. Upon entering, he paused for a moment, almost thinking he had entered the wrong place.

The overall style of the mage management area was much sturdier than the magic review area. The ceiling had straight lines, and the walls, from the ceiling to the window frames and below, were covered in square blocks of sky-blue. The seats in the hall were not sofas but rather rows of hard single chairs, creating a neat grid.

Even the reception personnel in the hall were not young ladies in long skirts with sweet smiles. Instead, they were young men in crisp shirts, fitted vests, and neatly tailored trousers. The one guiding Garrett in his affairs did not glance sideways but briskly walked, creating a breeze:

"Here for registration and mage badge? Follow me!"

The mage management area was divided into four sections: identity verification, household registration management, job introduction, and educational benefits. At the identity verification window, a mage was conducting business, and Garrett sat in the waiting area. Immediately, another mage approached:

"Here for certification? Where are you from?"

Garrett glanced at him. The mage’s attire lacked the embroidered staff pattern on the hem and cuffs; instead, a pure black badge with two antique bronze stars shimmered on his chest. Seeing Garrett’s curious gaze, he casually lifted the badge and presented it:

"This is my mage badge, a Level 2 mage. Badges are much more convenient than mage robes—every time you level up, you either have to find someone to embroider or buy a new robe. It’s annoying."

Garrett, the Artisan, Nordmark, expressed his inability to comprehend such troubles. Just embroidery, any surgeon could do that, right? Although he had healing arts after transmigrating, the ancestral skills still needed constant practice and couldn’t be easily abandoned.

"Yeah, here for certification," Garrett replied with a smile. Then, he curiously inquired, "Why do you ask?"

"You don’t have a mage badge! Of course, it’s okay not to have one; many mages from outside don’t bother." The mage, a man in his thirties with brown hair dotted with water droplets, gestured towards the hall. "But in the headquarters, it’s more convenient to register and get a badge. Look over there, mages with badges can do everything directly, and the Council’s subsidies are transferred directly. No need to queue every month to collect..."

Can this badge also be used as a bank card?

Seeing Garrett’s interest, the mage explained in more detail. Garrett, the type of mage who just arrived from the countryside, not part of a batch enrolled during the Magic Academy’s admission season, was clearly a dreamer. Such mages, unfamiliar with the situation in Nevis City, were easily hired for adventures or jobs at a low cost:

"Oh, by the way, the Council’s subsidy is just a bit. Like you, a Level 1 mage, only gets one contribution point per month, enough to exchange for a gold coin. Everything is expensive here in Nevis, so if you want to stay, you’ll need to find a job soon. The Council just issued a batch of tasks recently to collect magic crystals in the Duoyi Mountain Mine. Are you interested?"

Garrett: "…" Not really, thanks.

Just as he was about to decline, the mage who had been conducting business in front of him received his badge and left. At the identity verification window, the clerk tapped on the table and raised his voice:

"Next!"

Garrett greeted the brown-haired mage and walked up. As soon as he sat down, the clerk pulled out a form and pushed it towards him:

"Here for identity verification? Fill out the form."

Garrett lowered his head, glanced at the paper, and couldn’t help but purse his lips. The paper before him was crisp and white, seemingly of better quality than the scroll he bought at the stationery store when he first transmigrated. The Magic Council was indeed wealthy...

He picked up the quill on the side. The form was not extensive, only asking for name, age, place of origin, magical inclination, and level. It seemed the Magic Council wasn’t too concerned about other details.

Garrett couldn’t help but look up. The mage in his thirties across from him sipped a hot drink slowly, and upon catching Garrett’s gaze, he tossed two more sheets of paper over, speaking casually:

"For other details, you can write on other paper. For example, where you studied magic before, what tasks you’ve completed, or what property you own. Here at headquarters, you can entrust the Magic Council for management, making it convenient for future disputes."

Oh? Does that mean I can register my hospital and estate together? Can I also entrust the magic tower to manage the estate? Fantastic, finally some wealth!

Garrett’s lips curled slightly, and he began to write. The clerk didn’t wait for him to finish; when the form was filled, he took it and walked it over, placing it on a large translucent crystal. With a "drip," a blue light descended from above, scanning across the paper line by line.

Not bothering to watch, Garrett slipped to the next window and spoke to a female clerk, teasing her until she blushed, offering him a lipstick-painted cheek to be playfully patted.

Having completed the form, Garrett rested his chin on his arm, peering inside. After a while, a flip board opened above the crystal, and with a "ding," a badge dropped onto the form. The clerk, oblivious, picked up the form and badge, swaying back towards Garrett and slapped them in front of him:

"Impress your spiritual power onto it!"

Garrett glanced at him but remained silent, following the instruction to imprint his spiritual power. The clerk embedded the badge into a magical array on the edge of the table, pressed something, and the lines on the magical array suddenly brightened, connecting with the

light flowing on the table, floor, and even the walls. In silence, a copper star in the center of the pitch-black badge lit up.

"Level 1 Mage." The clerk glanced indifferently, bent down, and pulled out another sheet of paper from under the desk:

"This mage badge will record your personal information and the imprinted spiritual power. Relevant notes and usage instructions are on this paper. Go back and read it carefully. Remember to come here for re-recording if your magical level changes or you can do it at the mage tower in the county."

"Okay, thank you." Garrett reached out to take it. "What about the badge?"

"Wait a moment! What’s the hurry!" The clerk finally let go of his water cup but glared at Garrett. "We also need to record your arcane research level! —Really, wasting time. What arcane level can a Level 1 mage have? Probably not even half a point..."

The last sentence was spoken in an extremely low voice, eyes fixed on the desktop, as if talking to himself. As he spoke, the pace slowed, and the voice became lower—

On the edge of the pitch-black badge, a circular ring slowly but firmly appeared. Under the lonesome copper star’s reflection, that silver ring became more radiant.

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