"That's natural."

"Okay, just 7 crowns."

...

Ignatz's office is on the third floor of the main administrative building of the hospital, but Kawei, who had previously agreed to report to the office first, went to the ward next door first.

If the temporary medical station established by Who on the African savannah is compared to a hospital ward, then the so-called ward here can only be called a vegetable market.

The room was packed with beds, the sounds of family members and nurses communicating with each other were endless, and the floor was filled with food remnants and garbage left over from daily life.

The theory of airborne cholera is still prevalent, and the closed windows fill the air with an indescribable putrid smell. Those bacteria, invisible to the naked eye, are trampling on the wounds of the patients and having a carnival in front of everyone's eyes.

Kawei can't believe that the wards looked like this more than a hundred years ago. Hospital wards probably need reform more than surgical operations.

At this time, a young nurse ran towards him: "Can I help you?"

"Is this the surgical ward?"

"Yes." The nurse continued to ask, "Who are you looking for?"
Chapter completed!