In the dead of night, a man walked alone, his presence drawing many a gaze—for it is rare indeed to see someone wearing clothes encrusted with diamonds.
As the man passed by, the unsuspecting pedestrians remained completely unaware that their blood was being silently drained away. Thin, invisible threads of blood flowed slowly from their bodies, converging noiselessly upon the man.
His body seemed to possess a peculiar sensitivity to these crimson threads; whenever they drew near, he would tremble involuntarily. This trembling was not born of fear, but of satisfaction and longing. With the gathering of the blood, the man’s power grew, and his eyes sharpened.
Chapter 97