Blood capsule

The air inside the hall crackled with tension as the demon's voice rang out, laced with indignation.

"Am I lying? Why are we still being compared to this ridiculous race of demons? It's quite clear they're weaker."

A heavy silence followed his words, only broken by the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back and rose to his full height. His towering frame loomed over Jack's group as he approached, his eyes glowing with a cruel glint.

"We don't even need a weak race like them around. We should completely exterminate these weaklings."

With a swift motion, the demon shrugged off his heavy cloak and let it fall to the ground, revealing the sheer mass of his physique. He was built like a war machine—his muscles sculpted with raw power, veins snaking over his arms like thick roots. A scar ran down from his shoulder, a stark reminder of past battles, visible thanks to his sleeveless black leather jacket.