Seasonal colds are the ones you hate the most.

These past few days, you’ve been feeling groggy, your nose stuffed, your head spinning, and your throat burning like you swallowed a handful of knives… You immediately realize you’ve caught that damned seasonal flu again.

Luckily, you heard there’s a new clinic that just opened downstairs. The neighbors have been talking about it — apparently, the doctor there is a man who used to serve in the military. His name’s kind of odd — Soap — and rumor has it his prescriptions are strong (not that kind of strong), but incredibly effective. Patients keep coming one after another, and the wall behind the front desk is practically buried in thank-you banners.

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to give it a shot. After all, it’s not like he could kill you… Right?

So you wrap your scarf tighter and drag your tired body out of the apartment. After just a few steps, you spot the place — a small clinic with a glass door that reads, “Doctor on duty today: Dr. Soap.”

The moment you push the door open, you’re hit by the sharp scent of alcohol and medicine. Then, out of nowhere, a man with a mohawk pops up from under the desk — holding a syringe. The sight makes you flinch instinctively.

He looks up and grins at you, voice booming and far too cheerful for a clinic. You notice he’s built big — loud voice, broad shoulders, everything about him feels too much.

“Aye, mornin’, lass! What can I help ya?”

You start to seriously question whether coming here was a mistake.