A Hospital in Another World?

"What's this sketch for?" 

"Is it not considered theft if it's just a sketch? Or is it an outright theft?" 

Garrett opened his mouth but decided not to argue with the bishop. He continued to roar at the Baron Knights, "And even if I cut it open, how do I sew your muscles back together? With my hands?!"

"Why can't you use your hands?" 

Garrett was speechless. He plopped back into his seat, took a few deep breaths, and couldn't help but question his life choices. "Have I lost my ability to educate patients? In my past life, anyone would've understood at this point! And the bald bishop seemed to get it... Why are these knights still..."

Forget it. A roughneck's comprehension shouldn't be compared to a spellcaster's. How do I explain this... Should I perform surgery on the spot?

Great idea! 

Garrett's eyes lit up. He composed himself, stood up calmly, and smiled at the Baron Knight, "How about this? I'll find a pig's leg—or a lamb's leg—and cut it here. Then you'll understand how the treatment is done. Your Grace, could you wait for me a moment?"

"Where will you find a pig's leg at this hour?" The bald bishop furrowed his brow. After a brief thought, he took charge and grabbed Garrett, saying, "Never mind, come with me!"

The bald bishop strode ahead swiftly. Garrett was dragged along, panting and breathless. He swung the surgical instruments in one hand, and finally, Sir Flynn Knight, unable to stand it, rushed forward and took the surgery kit from him.

As they followed the bishop, the surroundings grew brighter and livelier. Eventually, they arrived at a brightly lit, smoke-filled tavern with dozens of men laughing and shouting inside. The bald bishop barged in and shouted, "Old man, do you have a pig's leg?"

"There's half a leg left!" a distant voice replied from behind the counter. "Roast it for you?"

"I want it raw! Take me to the kitchen!"

The bishop bellowed. He marched through the crowd, followed by the three knights, and the drinkers in the bar parted like the Red Sea. Garrett, a young lad, found himself smoothly mingling in, not stopped at the kitchen door.

The kitchen was bustling. A head chef and a few assistants were rushing around like they had speed boosts. The bald bishop made a beeline for the meat counter, grabbed a pig's leg, inspected it, then turned to Garrett, asking, "Can we use this?"

"Put down my leg!" 

A furious roar came from the other side. The head chef lunged forward with a knife but stopped just in time, "Y-Your Grace!"

The bald bishop nodded absentmindedly, still staring at Garrett. Garrett extended his neck to examine the pig's leg and found both ends of the big bone joints already cut off. He shook his head immediately. The bald bishop promptly put down the pig's leg, "Do you have a lamb's leg?"

"No..."

The bald bishop frowned. The head chef peeked, then snatched the pig's leg and dashed away as if afraid it would be snatched. The bald bishop, ignoring the commotion, pondered for a moment, "Can we use a live one?"

"Will a live one do?"

Garrett hadn't caught on yet and instinctively replied. The bald bishop nodded, stood up, and within moments, to Garrett's astonished gaze, he brought in a bleating live lamb and tossed it onto the counter. "Can we use this?"

Your Grace!

You're really getting it live!

Garrett was dumbfounded. Seeing his lack of response, the bald bishop coughed and asked again, "Can we use this?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Garrett snapped back to reality and hurriedly answered, "But..."

"But what?"

Garrett reached out, and the panicked lamb almost kicked his hand. He immediately pulled back, turned to the bishop, and shrugged helplessly.

That's it. You bring in a live thing, don't even sedate it, how am I supposed to operate? Even local anesthesia would do!

The bald bishop chuckled. He bowed his head in a prayer for a moment and snapped his fingers. In an instant, white beams of light bound the live lamb to the counter. Its legs were up, clearly in distress but unable to make a sound.

Ah... Operating like this feels more comfortable... Garrett sighed contentedly, positioned in front of the counter. Looking around, he said, "Uncle Flynn, please pass me the box. Uncle Silo, you stand on the left for a clearer view, no need to tiptoe... Your Grace, it's a bit dark here, could you please cast an illuminating spell?"

At this point, the tavern owner sneaked in with the head chef, both peeking at the bald bishop and the lamb he brought. However, to their surprise, the bald bishop merely stood aside, and it was Garrett who stood steadily at the counter, opening a wooden box and picking up the surgical knife.

As soon as the knife was in hand, Garrett exuded an air of decisiveness. Just like the hundreds of surgeries he'd performed and supervised as a doctor in his past life, he swiftly began, giving orders, "Before the treatment, shave the surrounding fur... Baron, don't laugh, when the time comes, if we need to shave, you'd better find a razor yourself... Then, make an incision on the skin, not too deep..."

As he spoke, the tip of the knife had already pierced the skin of the lamb's leg, effortlessly making a cut. The skin parted, the blood seemed to freeze for a moment, and only a thin line of blood appeared.

"Wow..."

A low murmur echoed in the kitchen. The bar owner and the assisting chef, mouths agape, watched as the bald bishop commanded every action, tying the lamb and casting spells. The bar owner even nudged the chef, "Hey, who's this young guy?"

"Don't speak!"

The chef snapped back without hesitation, fixated on Garrett's knife movements, "His knife skills are amazing... He cuts without harming the flesh, and there's hardly any bleeding. Impressive!"

Garrett, however, wasn't entirely satisfied. Truthfully, he was more familiar with human skin. A single cut, in his expertise, would only graze the skin without injuring the underlying tissue. He'd dissected rats and rabbits in his past, not much experience with lambs. He looked at the bloodstains on the knife and sighed softly, "This knife isn't fast enough... Baron, if the knife were a bit faster, when I cut your wrist, the bleeding could've been halved..."

"I'll go find a knife!" Baron Knight replied promptly. Garrett sighed, "Not just any knife will do, it needs to be the shape I want... Next, pull the skin to the sides to minimize damage. Your Grace, could you please hold this hook?"

He gave the order, and the bald bishop obediently took the hook and pulled backward. Garrett kept his eyes partly on the hook, never stopping his hands, "Pull back, pull back a bit more, put some more strength into it... Good, just like that, hold steady!"

The head chef and the bar owner were speechless. The bald bishop remained silent, focusing on pulling the hook...

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