Chapter 682: Does Your Hospital Have No Compassion?!

"So, I will have a Tower Spirit?"

Garrett was initially delighted, then shocked. Of course, he couldn’t show this shock in front of the Baroness.

So, I took out a loan of 20,000 gold coins?—And these 20,000 gold coins can’t be repaid with the Queen’s treatment fees, the maternity hospital’s major client treatment fees, or the training fees from the Spring Temple?

—The Council even forced me to buy it!

Sigh, let’s not dwell on it. The Council didn’t specify when to repay the 20,000 gold coins—or the 5,000 contribution points—nor did they set an interest rate, so I can shamelessly treat it as an interest-free loan. If they try to enforce it, I’ll...

I’ll go to my teacher for support!

Of course, there were other things for Garrett to worry about, mainly financial pressure:

The salaries of the newly hired midwives, nurses, and logistics personnel had to be paid, right?

The wages of the spellcasters weren’t an issue—Garrett could shamelessly say, "Those learning the craft don’t need wages"—but daily expenses, such as lunch and afternoon tea, couldn’t be expected to be self-provided by the hospital, right?

Not to mention, with the increase in the number of surgeries, logistics expenses like firewood, clean water, bed sheets, and blankets were also increasing...

And this money could only be earned by himself. The Queen had already paid 20,000 gold coins. Regardless of the payment method, it was unrealistic to expect her to increase the hospital’s funding.

Garrett had no choice but to seek out the former Dean, Lord Graf. Although Garrett had theoretically gained control of the maternity hospital, he wasn’t very hands-on. The hospital’s operation still relied on the diligent support of this lord—

"An advertisement in the newspaper?"

"Yes." Garrett spread his hands:

"We plan to start a new medical experiment comparing labor pain relief and natural childbirth without pain relief."

Hmm, if pain relief was only required during the second stage of labor, the most intense and painful time, the casting cost could be as low as 10 gold coins. If pain relief was needed throughout the process, the cost would be 100 gold coins.

"And for mothers participating in this plan, if a C-section becomes necessary, the hospital will waive the surgery fee."

Lord Graf took notes. Upon hearing this, he paused, looked at Garrett, and hesitated. Well, since you are performing the surgery and casting the healing spells, you can waive the fee if you wish...

"So, what do you need?"

"I need precise targeting." Garrett’s understanding of advertising was limited to this:

"The target group is families willing to pay 10 to 100 gold coins for childbirth. I don’t know which newspapers or other channels can precisely reach these people, so I’ll leave that to you."

And improving the hospital’s financial situation also depends on you!

Lord Graf took on the task. It had to be said that this lord was deeply rooted in the capital, with connections everywhere. From the third day after he released the news, middle-class and upper-middle-class pregnant women started coming to the hospital.

Padma Stout, supported by her sister’s hand, walked slowly into the small white building, frowning slightly. The exterior of the small building looked clean and tidy, giving a good impression, but inside, there was a strange smell. Cold, hard, and even a bit pungent—

"Madam, this is the smell of disinfectant." The nurse in charge of reception immediately explained, observing her expression:

"Nordmark Mage’s research results show that regular disinfection with this solution can reduce infections and puerperal fever. All rooms, corridors, and even equipment in the hospital are regularly sprayed and wiped with it."

Alright. For her own safety, Padma decided to let the smell of disinfectant replace the familiar and beloved floral fragrance...

Padma slowly walked into Ward No. 3, lay down on the bed, and decided to rest while the contractions were not too intense. Just as she closed her eyes, a scream startled her awake:

"Ah—"

!!!

Scared to death!

Her heartbeat doubled in speed!

Padma clutched her wildly beating heart and sat up straight. Her sister Lizzy had already jumped up from the sofa by the bed and rushed to the door. As soon as she opened the door, the sharp scream immediately poured in through the crack:

"Ah—it hurts so much—please, just give me a C-section, please—"

"Madam, your current condition does not meet the indications for a C-section." A young woman’s voice responded. It was calm and unhurried, as if it were routine:

"Please endure a little longer. Don’t waste your strength at this stage. Your cervix has already dilated to seven centimeters, and you can give birth in a few more hours."

"I don’t want to...please give me a C-section—or at least give me some pain relief, please—"

"Madam, when you were admitted, your family only paid for one hour of pain relief, which has already been used according to your request. Would you like to continue paying?"

"This..."

Curious, Padma walked slowly out of her room and leaned against the door frame to observe. Looking around, several doors were open, and not just one pregnant woman or family member was peeking out.

In the corridor, a disheveled pregnant woman, with her hair in disarray, was clinging to an older woman, gasping for breath, her body almost collapsing to the floor:

"Please! Please give me pain relief, I can’t take it anymore! Please—"

"The money has already been spent!" The older woman, her face showing a trace of disgust, forcefully shook her off:

"You used it up because you couldn’t bear the pain! Now endure it yourself. Do you know how hard my son works at sea to earn money? Do you think it’s easy for the family to come up with ten gold coins?"

"I..." The pregnant woman was cut off after saying one word. The intense pain made it impossible for her to support her own body, and she slowly knelt to the ground:

"I have a dowry... After giving birth, I’ll go back to my parents’ home to borrow money... Please, give me pain relief, I can’t stand it anymore... I really can’t..."

Even the hardest of hearts would soften seeing her kneeling and begging like this. At least Padma felt this way. If she weren’t about to give birth herself, she would have wanted to help the woman up and comfort her, saying, "Come inside and sit down; the floor is too cold and will hurt your body."

"Your dowry is still part of the family! If you borrow money, the family still has to repay it!"

But the older woman remained unmoved, hands on her hips, her tone firm:

"Women have been giving birth in pain for generations. Why do you think you’re special and need pain relief? If it weren’t for this hospital guaranteeing safety, who would spend so much money to send you here!"

Padma closed her eyes slightly. Women without their own property and income were bullied like this. As she thought about this, someone from the next room rushed out and pointed at the young woman arranging pain relief for the pregnant woman:

"Does your hospital have no compassion? Seeing her in so much pain, why don’t you give her pain relief?!"