It's not that hard to open a hospital in another world, right?

Chapter 205 Fully armed, go deep into the Mithril District!

Gretel wanted to touch a mask to put on himself on the spot.

Forge, miner, spit, gray-black thick phlegm.When these few keywords were put together, a word immediately popped up in Gretel's mind:

pneumoconiosis.

Pneumoconiosis is a collective term for a group of occupational lung diseases mainly caused by diffuse fibrosis of lung tissue caused by long-term inhalation of different pathogenic productive dusts and retention in the lungs during occupational activities.Pneumoconiosis alone is not terrible, what is terrible is that pneumoconiosis is often accompanied by a series of complications:
Respiratory infection, pneumothorax, tuberculosis, COPD...

Imagine a person with tuberculosis coughing and spitting in front of you, it is decisive to wear a mask for yourself!By the way, it seems that the physique of dwarves is much stronger than that of humans. In the eyes of dwarves, it is a minor ailment that can bring down humans anytime, anywhere!
I don't want to wear it and die of tuberculosis!
I need to wear a mask!
Preferably an N95...

Sorry, no.Gretel tried his best, but he only prepared a batch of Lien-Teh Wu masks, plus bubble technique hoods.However, because the other party spat at you, he took out his mask and put it on on the spot. Gretel felt that if he did this, he would never even think about entering the forging area.

Will be collectively rejected by the dwarves to death!

Gretel silently dragged the accompanying mage back two steps.Seeing him like this, the old dwarf snorted and muttered a few words, the volume was too low, and the [Language Proficient] headband didn't work, but Gretel could probably guess from the look on his brows and eyes that he was saying "weak chicken!" ", "coward" and the like.

Gretel wasn't angry either.If this level of contempt could make him angry, he would have already developed a tension pneumothorax after more than ten years in the emergency department.Instead, he squatted down slightly, looked at the old dwarf at the same level, and seriously persuaded:

"Old sir, if your throat feels uncomfortable, you'd better not drink."

Alcohol can increase the burden on the heart and lungs, stimulate the gastrointestinal tract, and impair liver function.Whether it's pneumoconiosis, tuberculosis, or simple respiratory infection that causes spitting, it's best not to drink alcohol...

The old dwarf choked.He instinctively wanted to say something again, but seeing Gretel's serious face and caring expression, he swallowed it back.Turning around and returning to the tavern, he shrugged under his beard, still muttering something.

Seeing his stocky back disappearing into the tavern, Gretel could not help shrugging and giving a slight wry smile as he toasted while walking.Only then did he use a healing spell on himself - although he didn't know if it could prevent tuberculosis infection, but it was better than nothing.

The fifth-level mage next to him gave him a tug:
"Hey, you offended him."

"how?"

"Dwarves hate it when you don't let him drink..."

"But he's still coughing. It's really best not to drink."

"Then what does it matter to you?"

"I'm a healer. It's fine if you can't see it, but if you see it, you have to remind me."

After all, they didn't enter the forging area immediately, but settled down in the wooden house outside.After chatting with each other, Gretel realized that the fifth-level mage was named Taylor Dumfries, 38 years old, a native of Nevis, and specialized in the School of Change.Because a laboratory was blown up before, he had to sell himself to pay off the debt, so he took over the task and stationed here for two years.

"Those dwarves are difficult to deal with..." Speaking of his mission, Mage Dumfries complained:
"Everyone is stubborn, stubborn, and loves to drink. Except for working hours, they are noisy in the tavern every day. If they want them to work more, they won't listen to anyone unless the old man in the lead speaks. That old man and cunning...

The last time he asked them to pay an extra ten pounds of mithril, he extorted 10 barrels of spirits from me! 10 barrels! "

Gretel: "...Not to mention whether this deal is worthwhile, don't those dwarves want to work even more when they're drunk?"

"That's not enough. There are two to three hundred dwarves in this forging area, and 10 barrels of spirits are enough to moisten their throats...By the way, what are you doing?"

Gretel spread out a large thick canvas and was cutting it out, and then connected it together with prosthetics to make clothes for himself... He came in a hurry, and he didn't have time to buy the refractory work clothes that entered the forging area, so he had to make them himself ...

Early the next morning, Gretel and Master Dumfries, led by the old dwarf, walked all the way to the depths of the forging area.The forging area is deep inside the mountainside, through two steel gates inside and outside, on both sides of the road inside, there are forging rooms connected to each other.Master Dumfries walked beside Gretel, muttering all the way:

"Why are you dressed like this? You're so ugly... afraid of being burned? Don't you have mage armor?"

Gretel looked at him helplessly.Mage Dumfries's robes were fluttering, and the three-piece set of [Mage Armor], [Resistance Energy], and [Protecting Arrows] was complete - the last spell, Gretel guessed, was mainly to guard against splashing iron flowers.All three spells are invisible and don't seem to affect his appearance at all.

"But, you are a fifth-level mage, and I am only a second-level..."

"You don't know this spell, I will bless it for you!"

However, Grete would never have the guts to hand over his life to others.He and Bernard were exactly the same, both wearing thick canvas flame-retardant suits, long-sleeved trousers, and cuffs tightened.There was no ready-made gluing button, so Gretel specially found a piece of cocklebur, peeled it off and glued it to the edge of the clothes with magic...

Clothes, coats, hats, and shoe covers are all made of thick canvas.Wearing a Wu Lien-teh mask on the face, putting on the air bubble technique on the outside, and being fully armed, only then did he have the courage to enter the forging area.As for how Master Dumfries muttered and laughed at him, Gretel said that he couldn't care less...

In the forging area, there are not furnaces, but flowing pools of fire. Gretel walked a few steps closer and saw bright red magma gurgling and gurgling in the pools.A smell of sulfur came over his face, Gretel secretly thought that he had miscalculated, he should have come in wearing a gas mask...

"Trash! The iron ingot is not soft yet!"

Suddenly there was a loud roar in the room.

The whole forging room was buzzing, Gretel was taken aback and almost took a step back.I saw a dwarf in front of the fire pool with his head down, sending the iron ingot that was about to be clamped forward again, and dipped into the magma again.

Gretel looked carefully, and saw that the skin of the dwarf who was being scolded was a little smoother, and his beard was not so long, while the face of the dwarf who scolded him was wrinkled, and his beard hung down to his chest even though it was braided.Swinging a hammer the size of a beer mug in his hand, jingling, jingling, hitting the anvil so that sparks flew.

Why don't they shave their beards?Isn't this kind of smashing method afraid of burning the beard?
Gretel didn't want to comment on the level of labor protection of the dwarves.He followed Master Dumfries all the way in. No dwarf greeted him, and no dwarf even looked at him.Wanting to get someone to do an introduction or something, Gretel looked around, and put out this thought neatly.

The further you go in, the brighter the magma in the fire pool is. When you reach the last forging room, even though Grete is wearing the magic effect of [cold and heat resistance], he is still forced to breathe.

"This is the place where Mithril is smelted..."

Magister Dumfries told him aloud.No matter how loud it is, no matter how much the mages want to maintain their demeanor, they can't stand the sound of pinging, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, deafening.

Gretel stretched his neck to look in, and saw a particularly magnificent fire pool in the center of the room, about half a person's height, five or six meters in diameter, the edge of the pool was shining brightly, inlaid with a row of magic symbols.Three or four rows of steps were built on the edge of the fire pool, and a dwarf with a beard so long that it dragged the floor was busy by the pool alone.

The dwarves next to him were at least three meters away from him.This fire pool was also extremely active, with magma gushing up from below with steam, the color was translucent and white, and there was an explosion from time to time.

Is this place safe?

Can I go in?

Gretel hesitated.Before making a decision, a middle-aged dwarf walked out of the room, with a white braid and beard hanging down to his waist, and swaggered in front of them:
"You guys! Don't go in!"

　On working days, the traffic is really small...

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(End of this chapter)