"Stupid! There is indeed no difference in taste, but the blood of men or ugly women is not qualified to be my food."
Duke Dracula sneered and looked at Michael and Clover. He was like an elegant nobleman, looking down on the two country bumpkins. There was a hint of complacency in his voice.
"It's a wonderful thing to eat, and it's so wonderful that it's affected by the people who provide the blood. The other party must not only be a beautiful woman but also a virgin. It's best to come from a famous family. And..."
"Stop, stop, stop! You don't have to say, I understand. There is no difference in taste, but the feelings in the heart are different, right? In the end, you are very particular."
"But in my opinion, if I starve you half to death, you will never dislike pig's blood, let alone the blood of men!"
Michael rolled his eyes.