Chapter 225 Fighting for the Health of the Dwarves!

The news that mithril production began to increase spread along the forging area to the Alchemy Guild, and then to the top leaders of the School of Change. And another way is to complete the research and development work... At least the great magicians of the plasticity system who have completed part of the research and development work also uploaded the news all the way to the legendary masters of Thunder Horn.

Therefore, at the regular review meeting this week, the matter of Grete was inevitably discussed.

"The magic smelting of mithril... no, the electrolytic smelting is completed?"

"Yes, Mithril has been successfully produced."

"It is said that the production of semi-finished products is no longer a problem?"

"Yes, the dwarves are working day and night now. It is said that the output of semi-finished products alone has increased five times compared to before."

"Gret Nordmark, is this project finished? Should we discuss rewards?"

"Uh, this..."

"What's the matter? You were very generous when you announced the project, but you feel unhappy when you calculate the rewards? Let me tell you, even if you give him a proportion of the increased mithril production, that's what he should do! Well, give it a hundred Is one part enough?”

"...It's not that...it's mainly because Gretel Nordmark hasn't submitted the final report yet..."

"Why is he still dawdling? Can't write a report? Find someone to help him write it!"

Grete was almost dying of grief.

Since the completion of electrolytic smelting, the dwarves' work pressure has suddenly increased, and their working hours have also suddenly lengthened. The result is that instead of working for two hours, taking a drink and taking a break, it has become a process of working for four hours, going out for lunch, taking a break, and then continuing to work...

"Why did another one faint! I said this is not okay! - Wait! Don't give him beer! Don't!"

Another dwarf came out with his face flushed and dizzy. He rushed to the bar with S-shaped steps and took a glass of cold beer. Tons, tons, tons, tons...

"Hey! It's fallen again! Bernard! Help me drag him! Drag him to the back and fill him with sugar and salt water! Oro, blow some air!"

The dwarves are indeed physically strong, but no matter how strong they are, they can't stand up to this. Gretel glanced at the notebook in his hand... In three days, the number of people suffering from heat stroke surged from two per day to 20 per day!

What about another day? ...What about two more days?

As a doctor, even if he is a clinician rather than a labor security officer in an industrial enterprise, Grete also said that he cannot tolerate such poor working conditions and the environment where workers are dying in large numbers!

The important thing is that now he has a voice!

Grete found Master Tarbot with a sullen face. Freed from the work of producing five high-level magic spells every day and trying his best to produce mithril, Master Talbot's complexion improved a lot. Although his hair and beard are still white, his face has become more rosy, and the skin on his arms is no longer dry and shriveled, and looks like it is tightly wrapped around the bones.

When Gretel came over, Master Talbot had just finished a healing spell. The treated dwarf got up wet, poured a bucket of stream water on his forehead, turned around and rushed back to the forging area. Master Tarbot hesitated to speak, and in the end he just sighed slightly and watched the dwarf go away.

Grete sat down beside him. He and the old dwarf looked at the gate of the forging area together. It wasn't until the dwarf with heatstroke disappeared inside the door that he coughed and spoke softly:

"Master, we can't go on like this. - More and more people are suffering from heat stroke. If this continues, everyone will fall ill in batches!"

"Do you think I don't know? But we are running out of money!"

"how come?"

The old dwarf sighed. He let go of his hand, and a few broken white beards flew up from his hand. A look of pity flashed across the old man's face. He looked at his fingertips and frowned:

"The price of Mithril has dropped... The processing fee has dropped from 500 gold coins per pound to 200 gold coins... Although semi-finished products can be sold for money, they are only 20 gold coins per pound - the gap can only be filled by everyone's hard work. Fill."

"You have to know that most of the food and ale that the compatriots in the settlements eat and drink are bought back by those of us who work outside."

The Magic Council has mastered the core technology - the prices of high-end industrial products dropped instantly - the dwarves' income decreased - and they had to produce more raw materials and low-end industrial products. Grete immediately understood the ins and outs of this, and his whole body collapsed. He felt like two big words stood up on his forehead:

accomplice!

It's still red and black in color... everyone can legally PK, and the explosion rate is very high...

"But can't the semi-finished products be sold more expensively? Only dwarves can smelt semi-finished products!"

The old dwarf continued to smile bitterly. If the original method of the dwarves is used, a fire pool can produce up to five or six pounds of semi-finished products in a day. Now I can sell more than 50 pounds a day, but because I use the gas provided by the Magic Council, the selling price cannot go up at all. In the words of Parliament:

"This kind of gas requires three great magicians to work together -"

Gretel was silent. However, the electrolytic smelting technology has been developed, and it is obviously impossible to stuff it back now. All he can do is improve the welfare of the dwarves and strengthen labor protection. For example, go talk to the Wizard of Dumfries...

"Supply them with ice water?" Master Dumfries shook his head when he heard this. "Gretel, I know you care about those dwarves, but...if you have to supply ice water to so many dwarves, a fifth-level mage like me can't do anything else for a day without just losing the freeze ray!"

"Then... what about supplying them with salt soda?"

"What is salt soda?"

Gretel was silent. Fortunately, he still remembered the recipe of salt soda, which was nothing more than water, sugar, salt, citric acid, baking soda and so on. Everything else is easy. I can't make citric acid for a while, so I just use vinegar instead. After tinkering in the laboratory for a long time, he finally made a satisfactory salt soda, and then went to find Master Dumfries——

"It's a good idea, but where does the money come from? According to your calculation, a dwarf needs 4 bottles of salt soda a day. Okay, let's fold it in half and count it as 2 bottles! The dwarves in the entire forging area need 4 pounds of salt a day. 4 pounds of baking soda, 2 pounds of sugar!

Even if the water is fetched from the stream at the door and the firewood is cut directly on the mountain, the labor is not counted as money. If you add it all up, you will still need at least 1 gold coin a day. The parliament does not have this extra budget. Will you pay for it or should I? "

1 gold coin each, 30 gold coins a month. This amount of money is not a lot of money, and it is definitely not a small amount of money. Gretel is now a level 2 magician and a level 4 arcanist. His monthly fixed income, which is the monthly allowance given to him by the Magic Council, is less than 30 gold coins...

It would be easier if you have a fixed budget. There is no fixed budget. If you take money out of your personal pocket, you can only do it occasionally - for example, to get a small amount of funding for the Magic Council's research project. Spending money year after year is not the way to do things.

"Well……"

Gretel was stumped. In the end, it was Master Tarbert who solved this problem. With the prestige of the master, he solved it in a simple and crude way:

"Just let them drink less! One by one, they will know how to drink! Deduct two cups of ale from each person's daily salary, and give it all to the tavern owner, let him be responsible for hiring people - it's not like there are no women in the forging area - —Make salt soda and deliver it every 2 hours! It will be steamy!"

You are not allowed to drink alcohol in the forging area, but you can drink salt soda. Sip a large bottle, burp, and exhale a lot of gas, making your whole body feel comfortable. The number of heat strokes dropped from 20 per day to 2 per day.

Everyone is happy. The tavern owner has solved the work of several cooks, the dwarves have solved the problem of heatstroke, the production efficiency of the forging area has improved, and the Dumfries mage has added a bright spot to his resume. Only Grete gained nothing——

The soda business is not profitable at all. The price at which the tavern owner supplies soda water is based on the cost line, and there is not even a copper penny in profit...

From beginning to end, Grete paid for the research and development expenses, and not even a penny fell into his own pocket.

Oh, if I can say that there is a gain, it is that the title of "Friend of the Dwarves" has been painted with a thick stroke of gold. If friendship could be quantified, his reputation would probably have gone from "friendly" to "respected" in one go...

But Gretel doesn't care about making money. With the problem of heatstroke resolved, he returned to the laboratory and resumed his research work. The next goal is to remove the penicillin - well, the Mycobacterium tuberculosis is not particularly sensitive to penicillin, he may also need to remove the streptomycin...

"Ah - why is bacterial culture so slow -"

Gretel stood among the petri dishes in the laboratory, holding his head and wailing.

At this moment, he missed his teacher very much: during the dysentery epidemic that year, Elder Erwin once released magical magic to induce the targeted growth of various bacteria. If there are elders around, this magical technique can speed up the experiment process 100 times!

But Gretel doesn't. Not only does he not know how to do it, not even Pastor Matthew, who has advanced to the fifth level, can't do it. As for Elder Wood, he is far away in Oak Ridge, dozens of miles away from here. Grete was too embarrassed to conduct an experiment for himself, so he dragged him here all the way...

"Birth, birth, birth..."

Grete held the oak staff and muttered feebly.

More than half a year has passed, and the two green leaves on the top of the oak stick have become exactly the same, dark green in color and hard in texture. Judging from the green leaf form alone, Gretel has almost reached the peak of his level 2 priest and can find a way to upgrade.

However, upgrading may not be useful. Grete stretched out his hand, a light green light fell, and several small mushrooms suddenly grew in the petri dish. Seven or eight light yellow and shiny little umbrella caps are spread all over the petri dish, which is particularly pleasing to the eye.

Gretel's face darkened. It's like this again, it's like this again!

Ever since he learned to use vines to grow straws, he no longer had any barriers to growing plants. As long as he held the seeds in his hand, he could always produce a pipe or a wooden pole. As for the failure to grow into a complete plant, Grete said that is not a problem and he is not surprised anyway.

However, promoting the growth of bacteria will not work. If you throw a magical spell, the whole petri dish will be filled with growth. If you are unlucky, it will also spread to the next door. How to separate and purify this?

All crowded together!

With such a fast growth rate, penicillin... won't crush them to death...

Gretel began to pull his hair out in frustration. I haven't cut my hair for more than half a year, and the short hair that was originally close to a board size has already covered my ears, and it feels a bit tactile when pulled. Grete pulled one off and twisted it around his fingertips. With a distracted look, he passed it through the gaps between his fingers.

This shooting caliber is a bit too big... It would be nice if it could be smaller... If the impact point could be controlled to the size of a pinhead, the size of a hair...

"Eh!"

Grete suddenly jumped up. He hurriedly flipped through the space bag and found the silver bell given by the master of the transformation department. He shook it twice and recited the incantation:

“Time is money my friend!”

"Oh, it's not easy. You finally remembered me?"

A strange questioning voice came out, and the bells came out together with the blue smoke.

Thanks to x-on:Dark Mercenary from Another World-Janad for the 999 book coins.

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