A Hospital in Another World?

Chapter 266

Garrett only flipped through a few pages and realized that this statistical work was far from something he could complete alone. Even with Aurora’s help, it was practically the same as not having any help at all...

January 1st, death toll: 42.

February 8th, death toll: 53.

March 15th, death toll: 47.

...July 6th, death toll: 59.

Roughly sampling the results, the daily death toll fluctuated between 40 to 60 people, meaning the annual death toll ranged from approximately 14,000 to 20,000. If he expanded the statistical scope to 20 years, he would have to input data for a minimum of 280,000 people, and a maximum of 400,000 people.

If each person’s death was recorded with their year of death, month, gender, age range, income range, residential area, and cause of death, then a total of 1.4 to 2 million values would need to be processed...

If Garrett were a statistician or a social scientist, he could take his time and spend a year, two years, or even more organizing this data. But he didn’t have that luxury. From now until mid-December, when he requested a hearing, he had only a little over two weeks.

And Garrett set himself a deadline of 5 days for this population census work.

Each death information would include gender (male or female), age range (0-6 years as one interval, and every 10 years thereafter),

Income would be categorized into four ranges: low income, low-middle, middle-high, wealthy.

Residential areas would be categorized into four ranges: slums, small artisans, middle-class areas, wealthy areas.

There were many causes of death, divided into several major categories such as epidemic, acute illness, chronic illness, accidents, suicides, difficult childbirth, etc., with several subcategories under each major category...

In the dimly lit database, Garrett sweated profusely as he made the table. After finishing it, he started inputting the data himself, timing himself as he went. After inputting one page, he calculated that he could only input information for 6 people per minute on average.

In other words, if he diligently and without error maintained his attention for 8 hours a day...

It would take approximately 100 to 140 days to complete?

...Well, that’s fine. It meant that to complete it within five days, he needed 20 to 28 clerks... and that didn’t even account for the manpower needed for verification, supervision, and statistics...

So where could he hire, or rather, exploit a group of people?

Garrett pondered for a moment with his chin resting on his hand. He spread out a new piece of parchment and took out the Endless Ink Pen, starting to write a letter:

"Respected Master Edgar..."

Hmm, he could recruit a batch from Black Crow Swamp and another from the Nature God Cult. Anyway, this job wasn’t difficult, as long as they could read and write neatly on the form and count properly. Oh right, they also needed to be patient and careful. Those who could become aspiring spellcasters should possess these qualities, right?

Aurora would go to the School of Necromancy to run errands, while Bernard would go to Oak Ridge. That afternoon, the two of them gradually returned, bringing back replies from the two schools:

Elder Wood stated that it was winter now, and many diseases were rampant among the poor. The cult couldn’t spare many hands. Sending him 10 priest apprentices to work for five days was already the limit. They would arrive tomorrow and would leave after working for five days. Adding one more person or one more day was not allowed!

As for Black Crow Swamp, Master Edgar generously expressed his willingness to help him with this favor. It was no problem to send over 20 newly recruited apprentices to work. Just remember to find some time to teach the children anatomy.

"30 people huh..."

Garrett sighed deeply.

It still wasn’t enough, it would be even better to have 10 more—20 would be even better.

His eyes wandered over to Aurora, considering whether to go find Archmage Carlisle himself or send Aurora to make another trip and recruit a few more people from the Archmage’s place. After some thought, he rummaged through his spatial bag and pulled out a handwritten scroll.

"Bernard! Come with me! We’re going to the Fleet Camp!"

Garrett successfully caught up with Bishop Hampton at the military camp. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Garrett bluntly made his request: to ask Bishop Hampton to introduce him to the person in charge of the local temple and borrow ten, preferably twenty, priest apprentices to come and work for him for five days.

"This..."

Bishop Hampton hesitated. As a bishop of the Temple of War, his path was different from that of his peers. After reaching level 5, he could have presided over a diocese, even a small temple under a baron’s territory would suffice. However, due to various twists of fate, he was sent to cooperate with the Magic Council, and since then, he had been thrown into the fleet, sailing on the waves and sleeping on the sea.

For ten years, the priest’s rank had advanced from level 5 to level 7, and the ship he followed had changed from a coastal patrol team to a long-distance fleet shuttling back and forth between the New Continent. However, apart from occasionally visiting the temple for prayer when the fleet returned, and returning to study after advancing, he barely knew anyone...

To brush shoulders and borrow people, and even to be at the beck and call of the Magic Council, Bishop Hampton considered, he really didn’t have that much face.

"It’s not without benefits to borrow people."

Garrett smiled and pushed over a copy of the handwritten manual:

"Take a look at this ’Battlefield First Aid Manual,’ does it have any use for the Temple of War?"

Battlefield first aid? Bishop Hampton was moved. He eagerly grabbed it and opened it up, battlefield hemostasis, battlefield bandaging, moving the wounded, burn first aid, drowning first aid, snake and insect bite first aid...

Which one was not useful? Which one couldn’t save a few dozen or even hundreds of lives on the battlefield? Rarely was there such a systematic approach that could be used for priest training!

The more Bishop Hampton read, the brighter his eyes became. Finally, he closed the manual and stood up abruptly:

"Don’t worry! With this manual, not only can I bring over 20 people to work for you for five days, even if I bring the entire temple, and help you for one or two months, it won’t be a problem!"

The next morning at 8 o’clock, Garrett stood in the specially cleared conference room of the City Hall, facing below. On the left was Aurora, on the right was Bernard, and facing the punctually assembled 50 spellcasters, he threw two sacks of blank forms.

"Pair up, each group is responsible for one year’s record book, one reads aloud, the other fills in the form.

Draw ten

more people—two from the Nature God Cult, four from Black Crow Swamp, and four from the Temple of War—to supervise and verify that the entered data is correct. Supervisors should not supervise people from their own organizations.

Write the year and month at the beginning of each form, and tick the corresponding boxes for other items—

Any questions?"

A group of apprentice mages, ranging from at least ten to nearly twenty years old, gathered in three clusters, eyeing each other. Although there was no direct conflict between the Nature God Cult and the Temple of War, there existed a competitive relationship. The clergy instinctively detested the aura of death, while to the necromancers...

Relying on one’s own power to unravel mysteries, clinging to divine beings’ coattails, what was that all about?

The Death Triangle, viewing each other with disdain.

Absolutely cannot allow the priests of the Nature God (War God priests/necromancers) to find any flaws!

We must work faster than them!

And better!

"No problem!"

The three groups of apprentice mages echoed in unison, their voices rising and falling.

Garrett sat contentedly on the platform. Below the platform, there were 20 tables, with two people per group, bustling with activity:

"Anita, female, 24 years old, tailor. Address: 382 Bronte Street. Cause of death: smallpox."

"Brad, male, 18 years old, sailor. No address. Cause of death: drowning at sea."

"Julia, female, 22 years old. Address: Foulitt Street. Cause of death: ulcer."

One person read aloud while the other wrote, the reader not needing to divert attention, the writer not needing to look up. Garrett saw with satisfaction that the efficiency of this data entry was more than double what he could achieve alone.

He mentally commended himself, took a sip of water, and pulled out a book of magic to read. However, before long, the harmonious atmosphere below began to collapse, with the young men and women chattering noisily:

"You filled in the wrong box! The age of 35 goes in the box on the right!"

"You missed a line! Go back and reread!"

"She’s not wealthy! Cross it out and move two boxes to the left!"

"What are you doing? She lives on Foulitt Street, how could she not be wealthy?"

"Are you crazy? Female, lives on Foulitt Street, died of an ulcer—clearly she’s a flower seller! How could she be wealthy?!"

"Mr. Nordmark, what do we check if there’s no address?"

"Mr. Nordmark—"

"Master Nordmark?"

Garrett: "Stop! Everyone stand up, move one table to the left, the table on the far left moves to the far right! Start over, one reads aloud, one verifies, and let’s see how many mistakes there are!"

Another round of chaos ensued. Garrett stepped down from the platform, pacing between the tables, occasionally peering over. In less than ten minutes, in front of the recorders responsible for verification, there were dozens of "correct" marks on the large sheets of paper...

This error rate simply won’t do!

I was wrong, manually inputting data, the possibility of errors is just too high, it’s completely unusable as a statistical basis...

John Grant, how did you manage to write "Natural and Political Observations Made upon the Bills of Mortality" purely based on manual statistics from London for decades, back in 1662? Forget about statistics, just inputting data correctly is so incredibly difficult!

Garrett struggled to contain his worries, watching the apprentice mages read, record, and check diligently. From 8 a.m. to noon, with a one-hour lunch break, then from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. After dinner, he sent everyone home, and Garrett sat alone in front of the table full of record books, his brow furrowed.

"Garrett, what’s wrong?" Aurora Worton sat down beside him. Garrett sighed, "There are too many mistakes... it’s completely unusable..."

"Well... why not call in more people and double-check multiple times?... Have them work more slowly?"

Garrett just shook his head. As the questions kept coming, he clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back:

"If only there were an automatic scanning and input system..."

"That... isn’t impossible..."

Aurora Worton suggested cautiously. Garrett jumped up suddenly, "What can we do? What magic can accomplish that?!"

"Um, it’s not magic. The Tower Spirits sort papers automatically, scanning and assigning them. I mean, you could ask if Tower Spirits could do this?"

"That’s great!" Garrett lit up. He grabbed Aurora, bombarding her with questions:

"Who should I apply to? What are the requirements?—Ah, you should have mentioned Tower Spirits earlier!"

"The Tower of Heaven has dedicated calculation rooms, which Archmages can apply for—I can use my teacher’s authority—" Aurora was being shaken so vigorously that her voice was breaking. When it came to the last question, she suddenly faltered:

"Well, um, it’s just that... using Tower Spirits might be too expensive..."

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