Chapter 43
A heap of goods lay before Garrett. His square table at home was brimming with items, leaving almost no space.
Two reams of paperofficial documents, perhaps. Without a reference, Garrett couldn't distinguish between them, but he could tell the quality was much better than the hemp paper he had brought with him that day.
Two rolls of magical parchment paper. Soft, pristine, and smooth. Though it didn't match the A4 paper from his previous life, compared to the pages he had seen during the day, it was quite impressive.
Ten feather quills, finely sharpened at the tip, with straight and long shafts. Accompanied by a small penknife, Garrett tested its edge and found it quite sharp.
Two bottles of ink. Each a five-ounce bottle, about three times the size of the hero's ink from his past life. They seemed like they'd last for at least half a year.
Garrett took stock of his haul. If the cheaper paper was the official one, priced at one gold coin per sheet, that would be 20 gold coins. The two rolls of magical paper, one at 20 dollars and the other at 25 dollars for 25 sheets, totaling... 400 gold coins.
Refined goose quills at 4 silver coins each, the large ink bottles at 8 silver coins each, together totaling 5 gold coins and 6 silver coins. Adding it all up, the cost of this treatment came to 425 gold coins...
He wondered about the profit margin of that stationery shop. Even if it was cost-price, the old man had just spent over two hundred gold coins.
...But then again, how much would a spell like "healing lethal wounds" be priced at in this world?
Scratching his head, Garrett pondered. He wasn't entirely clear on the answer to this question, but in the web novels he'd read before, "healing lethal wounds" seemed to be a fourth, fifth, or sixth-level divine magic? Anyway, it definitely started at over a thousand gold coins. Commoners, even the ordinary middle class, couldn't afford it...
He realized it was much the same in his previous life. If throwing money could save a life, most people would go all out. When faced with life-threatening illnesses, a family spending hundreds of thousands in the ICU wasn't uncommon
If one choked on gold coins, luck might let them swallow them; if not, an esophageal obstruction could lead to instant death. Previously, his immediate aid might not have saved an entire life, but it certainly salvaged half of one.
So, a shopkeeper thanking him with a few items from their shop was... acceptable, right?
After much mental reassurance, Garrett finally felt at ease. He looked at the stacks of white paper on the table, his smile growing wider bit by bit, and suddenly, he clenched his fists up high:
"Yahoo!"
Money, no, paper and quills!
No worries about transcribing books anymore!
That much?!
Seemed like the savings left by the original owner were about this much... Wasn't the original owner's father also a captain?
Garrett slowly opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then quickly shut it. From his memory, the original owner's father came from elsewhere, with no roots in Hartland City. Houses, armor, weaponseverything cost money. Even this box of books was exorbitantly priced, enough to drain someone's savings for years...
In any case, ten gold coins was a lot!
A whole lot!
He shook his head repeatedly, pushing back hard, "Healing the sick and saving lives is just something one should do! Besides, yesterday, the temple called me for questioning, and Uncle Westlow, you went along?That was worth much more than any money!"
The two knights exchanged glances and smiled. Finally, Knight Flynn stepped forward, thrusting the money pouch into Garrett's hand, grasping his fist tightly. While squeezing it, he said:
"If you don't take it, we won't dare to come to you for treatment in the future, no matter what happens."
"Patients?"
Garrett's spirits lifted. Knight Flynn pondered for a moment:
"You mentioned yesterday, that treatment for Sir Roman's wrist shouldn't have been that way... Following your method, can it be healed?"
Garrett's face fell instantly. Knight Flynn shook his head vigorously, "Not him, not him. Do you remember Sir Barren? The city's best archer, three years ago, got a cut on his wrist here..."
Knight Flynn gestured at his wrist: "During a fierce battle, he could only bandage his wrist and fight with a sword. The next day, he couldn't exert force or draw his bow. Could... that kind of injury be healed with your method?"
It sounded like a tendon injury... but not necessarily
, maybe a nerve or vascular injury. Garrett pondered:
"I need to examine it. If it's what I think, it might require a bunch of equipment."
"No problem! I'll have him come see you tomorrow!"
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