Like discovering a treasure, Cang Qingsen's eyes were full of delight.
He carefully touched the needle tip with his tongue, savoring the lingering taste.
Almost immediately, he concluded: "Indeed, the faint metallic tang mixed with a hint of rustiness, this is the taste of blood."
Cang Qingsen looked at the cloth doll, his hand steady and ruthless, the needle pierced into the doll's abdomen like a sharp sword, piercing through to the other side.
The silver needle was instantly stained red with fresh blood upon penetration, the bright crimson color appearing particularly striking under the light, yet inexplicably possessing a breathtaking beauty.
Cang Qingsen engulfed the needle tip completely with his tongue, greedily absorbing the taste of the blood, as if tasting some forbidden nectar.
His eyes became even more luminous, almost glowing: "This rich scent of blood is not from an animal, it's the true taste of human blood."
