Right now, I'm standing in a large shop packed with shelves overflowing with drugs and herbs, their strong, distinct aromas mingling in the air. Most of the items here are purchased by immigrants since we vampires rarely get sick.
Still, there are occasions where even we require medicines or herbs.
The physician is an elderly man with a long, white beard, currently inspecting the pill I handed him through a microscopic lens. He jots down notes meticulously, muttering to himself.
"Mhhm…" He groans softly, stretching his back with a series of audible pops.
"This... this is just a fertility drug. A very effective one," the old man finally says, glancing up at me. "And expensive," he adds, a sly twinkle in his eye. He pretends to toss the pill back to me but suddenly hesitates.
"Do you mind if I keep it?" he asks, giving me a pleading look that immediately kills the mood. Cringe.
