Chapter 747 Gretel: I Developed a New Advancement Method for Barbarians (10,000 Rewards Plus One Update)
Gretel was going to visit the Alchemy Guild, and of course Bernard gave him a command and an action. To his surprise, the deliveryman from Black Crow Swamp also shamelessly posted:
"Master Nordmark, what are you looking for? How to dispose of corpses? Shall we go together? If there are products that Black Crow Swamp has purchased for a long time, we can negotiate and get a lower price..."
Huh?
Is there such a good thing?
Grete was a little happy and a little embarrassed. He is not the kind of character who can accept other people's good intentions calmly. Once he accepts, he must be rewarded.
It would be better if this magician from Black Crow Swamp is cooperating on behalf of the school, but if it is on behalf of himself...
"Will it delay your business?"
A magician's time is so precious. For even one second, he can't wait to spend it on meditation and research. How boring is it to go shopping with someone?
If someone is polite to others, he should still pay attention to his own sense of propriety.
"No, no." The Necromancer shook his hands wildly:
"I was appointed here to see what needs you have and try to meet them if I can. Besides, Olivier and I are students of the same teacher. You saved his life. We are all very grateful to you... …”
Olivier? who? Necromancer? When did I save his life? Where is the location?
I have treated so many people that I can’t even remember just one name...
He wore a polite smile, but his eyes were straight and his pupils were slightly dilated. It doesn't take a magic control mage. Anyone who knows a little bit about social interaction will know that he is completely confused now.
"Olivier! Olivier Brin!"
The Necromancer emphasized his tone a little more. Seeing that Gretel hadn't thought of it yet, he had to raise his right hand, turn his index finger, and make a "poke into the eye socket" motion...
"Oh oh oh!"
Gretel suddenly realized.
He was the guy who had a sharp knife stabbed into his eye socket, reaching the base of his skull, and the Webster's ring was still underdeveloped!
Sure enough, when I mentioned the medical records, I immediately thought of it!
Since he is a fellow student of his patient, Grete is no longer polite. He and the Necromancer walked side by side to the Alchemy Guild, chatting as they walked:
"By the way, why do you have so many corpses in Black Crow Swamp? I remember getting dozens of them from you before and after... Where did your corpses come from?"
"It comes from a wide range of sources!"
Speaking of other topics, the Necromancer may be socially anxious, unsociable, and unable to say a word with three sticks. When it comes to corpses, there is endless talk:
"There are three large almshouses in Nevis, one of which is opened by us. The people in it eat, we use ours, and it will definitely belong to us when they die."
Okay, this theory is watertight. Gretel is curious:
"How many can there be?"
"From this source, there can always be more than 100 a year." The necromancer bent his second finger:
"In and around Nevis, we are responsible for collecting all the hungry, fallen, orphans, and old people who have died without anyone burying them. We also buy corpses all the year round..."
Having said this, he puffed up his chest proudly:
"Instead of spending a fortune on funeral expenses, those poor people might as well sell the body to us. They can make a fortune, just think of it as a final contribution to the family."
What a great world where corpses can be bought and sold. Although he knew that such behavior would lead to various problems, Grete, as a medical student, still felt sincere envy.
In general, teachers have freedom and so on. This kind of world is the perfect world in the minds of medical students!
"Is there anything else?" he asked curiously:
"From this source, we can only collect the corpses of some poor people. As you said before, corpses from all levels and professions-"
"Well, we are the executioners of the Parliament." The Necromancer winked slyly:
"Unless a sufficient price is paid for all professionals who have been executed for crimes, the bodies will belong to Black Crow Swamp. Then, we acquire all kinds of corpses for a long time, and our colleagues who work hard in various places will also bring some back appropriately..."
You guys are really "working hard". Literally. Gretel suddenly thought of Linn. How many corpses did he bring back from the war when the Shining Gods invaded?
When I go to the New World this time, will I go to the dividing line between the two colonies and get back a bunch of corpses?
The two of them chatted and soon arrived at the Alchemy Guild. Grete stepped in and immediately asked the receptionist:
"Is there a colorless gas that is a little heavier than air, easily soluble in water and alcohol, and irritating to the eyes and nose? Or its solution can also be used, is there any?"
"Is there a white or light yellow translucent solid that is lighter than water, will soften when heated, and will melt at about 40 or 50 degrees? Is it soluble in various fats and oils, but insoluble in water or alcohol?"
This range is really too vague. The staff looked sad and tried to smile:
"Here, there seem to be several kinds of liquids and solids that meet your requirements... Please wait for us to look for it, wait a moment! - John, John! Why are you in a daze? Hurry up and find what your guest wants!"
A flurry of excitement...
There were seventy or eighty bottles in front of Grete, thirty or forty kinds of "white and light yellow solids".
...No, so many?
The names are colorful and weird, but none of them are marked with a molecular formula. Next to it, half of it is for illustration,
He started simple and looked around for solids, and sure enough he found something similar to paraffin oil.
Weigh.
heating.
Dissolve...
Fortunately, he found what looked like paraffin. But it was not that easy to find the liquid next. Gretel carefully opened the bottle caps one by one, fanned them with his palms and took a quick sniff:
……no.
……no.
...Nor is it.
The smell of formalin, even if he had a cold, stuffy nose, and stuffy nose, he could still accurately identify this smell from a pile of liquid!
The experience of fishing for an anatomy teacher in a pool will never be forgotten by any medical student who has done it!
But it didn't. Grete asked the staff to search again and again to make sure they didn't have formalin, so he had to put all his efforts into Black Crow Swamp:
"Hey, how do you usually preserve corpses? - More medicine, or more magic?"
"They are all there. The higher-level corpses use the [Corruption Embalming Technique]. There is an entire layer of the Tower of Sleeplessness engraved with this spell." The Necromancer said everything he knew:
"Ordinary corpses can be preserved for a relatively long time if buried in a cemetery treated with negative energy. They can also be quickly frozen or preserved with [Thirst Touch]. Otherwise, they can simply be buried in lime..."
Either way, this is a good idea. Grete secretly made a note, planning to go back and try them one by one to see which one was cheaper and could be used to make tissue slices that could be preserved to the maximum extent.
But, of course, all this presupposes that there is a knife and a person who makes the slices:
"Bernard!" he called over his shoulder:
"What kind of weapon do you need to cut a corpse - or a specimen into uniform thin slices? It can't reach 0.5 millimeters, one millimeter will do, or a little thicker will do!"
"Boss, do you want me to cut it?"
The barbarian's face immediately turned bitter. Grete had never seen his face look like this——
Even when he was running away on the battlefield together, being blocked on a cliff, and facing a desperate situation, he was still fearless. He struggled to pick up the big bone stick and tried to block it in front of him.
But now, Bernard's big face was wrinkled. The left cheek says embarrassment, the right cheek says grievance. He has a messy beard and a dark complexion, which is what he looks like in the late stage of liver cancer:
"Boss, do you really want me to cut it? I have always used a bone stick. This kind of delicate weapon is really not useful..."
It looks really pitiful. Letting barbarians do this kind of thing feels like forcing Zhang Fei to do embroidery. Did I squeeze him too much?
Is it right that professional matters should be left to professionals instead of barbarians doing this kind of work?
"Uh... how about we order a guillotine?" He waved to the receptionist:
"As thin as possible and as sharp as possible, the blade and back of the blade should be as consistent in thickness as possible to avoid crushing the tissue. It is mounted on a vertical guide rail and can be slid up and down. As long as it is pressed down, it can be sliced..."
The receptionist finished brushing the records. Just as he was about to check with Gretel, a tall magician suddenly walked out of the room and smiled at Gretel:
"This mage, with all due respect. You... follower? If you want to advance quickly, it might be better to cut it yourself."
Huh? Gretel turned to look at him. The magician who spoke spread his hands, revealing a thick layer of calluses on his hands:
"We have customized weapons or enchanted weapons for many followers of magicians. The warrior next to you should be at level eight, right?"
Guess. Grete gave him a thumbs up. The magician smiled and said:
"Generally speaking, the professional level of a follower will be a little higher than that of a magician. You have reached level 7. Judging from the pace and breathing of this warrior, he should not have reached level 9 yet."
Well, although the conclusion is right, the process is completely wrong. In fact, when I was a level 1 mage, Bernard was already level 7; when I reached level 7, Bernard was only level 8...
Grete tried hard to keep his smile from freezing. The other party may have felt something, so he kept smiling and continued:
"This warrior, judging by his size, generally uses heavy weapons and has a wide range of fighting styles. When he reaches the level eight to level nine, it is best to strengthen his fine control. Cutting thin slices with your own hands is a better Training methods.”
Grete was greatly moved. He turned to look at the barbarian:
"Bernard, what do you think? Do you want to practice? - Don't think about weapons. We can still afford a weapon..."
In the end, Gretel took Bernard back with him and brought back a long sword from the alchemy workshop. The blade is three feet long and the sword body is as thin as a stream of autumn water. Of course, when held in Bernard's hand, it looks more like a child's toy...
"Come on Bernard!" Under the eternal bright flame, Gretel squatted next to the experimental table, encouraging the barbarian:
"Don't be in a hurry, cut slowly, one piece at a time! Don't cut it thin at first, you can make it thicker!"
"Boss, otherwise, let's cut up a larger animal..."
Bernard's forehead was covered with oil and sweat. He squatted down slightly, held the sword in both hands, and pressed it down bit by bit. In the thick palm, the thin long sword shook gently:
"It's really uncomfortable to use such a big sword to cut a mouse..."
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3200 words!
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