A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 847: Garrett: Where Should These Refugees Go?

"Rosscon County, should be 5,018 people, actually arrived..."

At the harbor reception point, the council's dedicated reception staff flipped open the subordinate's record book, glanced at the registration numbers, and immediately raised his voice:

"5,018 people?!"

He pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, focused his eyes, and carefully read it again. Then he looked at Garrett standing beside him, with the mage badge on his chest and the oak staff in his hand, and nodded knowingly:

An 8th-level mage, oh, and an 8th-level priest of the God of Nature too, personally following along the way, with plenty of healing spells supplied. So, this is the secret to everyone arriving on time without any absentees?

No wonder he was surprised. They've been doing this for over half a month now, and the expected number and the actual number of arrivals always had some discrepancies:

Injured halfway, sick halfway, scattered halfway, lost halfway...

In general, if a team has a shortage rate of less than 1%, it's considered stable; within 5%, it's still acceptable.

Of course, the later counties' transfer personnel had much more experience. They would use ropes to tie the poor together, ensuring no one was missing.

If there weren't any necromancers accompanying them, maybe they'd even drag the dead up, running along with the team to the end?

Of course, some teams had more people than expected. For instance, picking up people lost by the previous team and counting them in their own team.

In short, the council's assessment of transfer personnel is closely related to how many people they transferred and the percentage of the original expected number. The person in charge of this team really earned the highest level rating for nothing.

"Master Mage, you are amazing! Five thousand people! You brought them all safely, not a single one missing!"

The person in charge blurted out, sincerely praising. Garrett smiled shyly:

"I didn't do much... Eating, living, guiding, and handling various emergencies were all arranged by the council along the way. I just followed along, taking care of places that needed healing..."

"Your presence is a great help! With a high-level mage like you around, these refugees have hope and are willing to follow!" The person in charge praised again, then turned his head and raised his voice:

"What are you standing there for! Check! Count people! Register the list!—I'm talking to you!"

Beside him, a dozen teenagers holding thick record books quickly ran out. The person in charge smiled apologetically:

"These are new students from the Magic Academy, young and inexperienced, making you laugh..."

Garrett waved his hand and curiously leaned over to watch. At the front of the long queue, a set of tables and chairs were set up. A twelve or thirteen-year-old boy with a stern face was holding a record book, asking one by one:

"Name?"

"John."

"John... What's your surname?"

"No surname, sir, we peasants don't have surnames."

"Age?... How old are you?"

"25."

"Can you read?"

"No, sir."

"What did you do before?"

"Farming, raising pigs, sir."

"What crops did you grow? Wheat? Potatoes? Corn? Anything else?"

"What skills do you have?"

"How many family members came with you?"

While asking, he was constantly checking and recording in the form. After finishing everything, he threw over a white wooden plaque:

"Hold it. Go that way, follow the person holding the big white sign!"

Garrett squatted beside and watched for a long time. In general, those who were good for nothing but farming received white plaques;

Craftsmen, such as carpenters, masons, veterinarians, and one or two blacksmiths, received green plaques;

There was even a rare literate person, whose whole family received red plaques...

Different plaques were led by different people, divided into different directions. Garrett followed a group of people with white plaques for a while, arriving at a campsite where dedicated personnel arranged accommodation, meals, and simple physical examinations.

Garrett stood beside, watching the person in charge of the campsite shouting at a group of soldiers to work busily, and curiously asked:

"Where will these people be sent?"

The person in charge paused. To be honest, he was already so busy that he wished he had three heads and six arms, plus twelve Mage's Hands—the last one wouldn't work, as he wasn't a mage...

However, the question came from an eighth-level mage. The person in charge could only stop what he was doing, turn around, and bow:

"Your Excellency, they will be assigned to different places according to their age and profession. Nevis will take some to work in factories, and most of the farmers will be sent to the New World—"

Anyway, farming on Aeolan Island or in the New World is still farming. Garrett listened, hearing someone on a high platform shouting loudly:

"Everyone, don't be afraid! In the New World, each person will have land! Everyone!"

"For just 10 gold coins, you can get 150 acres of land! If you can't afford it, it's okay. The council will lend it to you first, interest-free for three years, starting from next year! Pay it back with taxes within three years!"

"No farm tools or cattle? Don't worry! The council will lend them to you too! Pay it back with taxes later!"

"After farming for five years, paying taxes for five years, and repaying the debt, the land will be yours!"

"The council will also transfer a batch of knights, warriors, mages, and healers! The whole team will go together, forming a small town! Don't be afraid of attacks from natives and monsters, there will be people to protect your safety!"

"People from the same village or nearby villages can form a group! It's easier to open up together, and you can share the 10 gold coins debt!"

Is it a resettlement and development plan for the New World...

Garrett slowly exhaled. To develop any place, the population, especially the native population, needs to reach a certain number. Only then can they assimilate and integrate with the local natives and absorb their labor force.

For many years, the council has been doing this, sending idealistic adventurers, wealth-seeking merchants, and debt-ridden poor people... ship after ship to the New World.

Naturally, the second, third, and youngest sons of nobles, knights with strength but no land on the mainland, some were willing to respond to the council's call and venture to the New World. Acquiring land and establishing manors.

Mages also had a regular rotation system. Those in debt, those who made mistakes, those needing more space for adventure, the council encouraged them to travel or even station in the New World.

But even so, the population was still insufficient. Now, taking advantage of breaking the Radiant Church's navy at sea, and the great famine of the Year Without Summer, the council plans to migrate a large number of people?

He suddenly walked quickly into the campsite. Looking around, the refugees' living conditions, how many people per room, what they ate, whether there were bathing facilities, where the toilets were, and whether there was medical care for the sick...

"The camp's living conditions need improvement. In the current situation, it's easy to spread epidemics..."

"It's best to have separate toilets..."

"With healers caring, even if it's just boiling some herbs, and giving them one by one; if any signs of infectious disease are found, there should be an isolation area..."

"They need to be fed well. Improved health conditions will help them survive the sea voyage..."

"At the destination, there should be a dedicated quarantine system..."

Write letters! Write letters! Write letters, letters, letters!

Write to the council!

Since so much money has been spent on transferring refugees, it would be even worse to let them die halfway!