American comic book: Transmigrated into Dior and adopted by the Wayne family

"By the way, Master Dior."

"Starting today, I will arrange courses for you. You can tell me anything you want to learn."

Alfred said this.

Upon hearing this, Dior fell into deep thought.

This was the first time he truly realized the breadth of Alfred's knowledge.

Perhaps this is the difference between a male servant and a butler.

Similarly, after this incident, Dior began to reflect on himself.

Although he managed to gain the trust of the Wayne family through a different approach, it was only a very basic level of trust.

There are several levels of trust, and basic trust alone is far from enough.

And Alfred is right, emotions can affect judgment, which is my weakness and I need to change it.

I still have a long way to go before I achieve perfection.

The wind blowing in through the car window gently ruffled Dior's hair.

The blond boy sat quietly in the passenger seat, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes filled with turbulent thoughts.

Alfred rolled up the car window, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of this scene, his eyes momentarily glazed over.

Is it because... there's too much to learn?

But it seems...it really seems so.

My lord, the way young Dior thinks really reminds me of you.

until...

"Alfred, I want to learn close combat, knowledge, and etiquette."

Alfred snapped back to reality, his hands instinctively tightening around the steering wheel.

"Close combat? Young Master Bruce has also proposed the same learning plan."

"It seems this trip to Gotham has helped you both grow a lot, which is good news."

Alfred smiled with satisfaction.

Thomas Wayne's will clearly states: without interfering with their choices, he will assist them in becoming the people they want to be.

There's still a long time to go.

The housekeeper's job is to guide the two people away from going astray at crucial moments.

Even though Dio was very good at hiding himself, Alfred firmly believed that time would change everything.

He also believes that the boy who helped raise horses and take care of his mother on the farm, even after experiencing a lot, would not have become too bad.

Alfred was very confident about this.

"By the way, Master Dior, what would you like to have for dinner?"

"How's the pizza?"

Dio looked at Alfred and made a suggestion.

"Pizza?"

Alfred nodded approvingly.

"I think this is a good idea."

Soon after.

The black Bentley broke through the fog and slowly drove into Wayne Manor.

Soon after.

Inside the manor.

A warm fire burned in the fireplace. Bruce sat before the fireplace, gazing quietly at the flames.

Suddenly, his ears twitched.

There were footsteps, even though they were being made very quiet, but they still couldn't hide from him.

Bruce turned his head with a helpless expression when he caught a whiff of shower gel.

"Dio, is there anything I can help you with?"

Dio, caught red-handed, didn't care at all and simply sat down next to him:

"Bruce, how do you manage to walk so silently?"

"I don't know either."

Bruce shook his head, his gaze returning to the fire, showing no desire to talk.

Dio stared at Bruce's profile, the firelight dancing on his face, illuminating his bewildered eyes clearly.

confused.

Guilt.

There was still a lingering attachment.

Thinking back to Bruce's beating of those two thugs in Crime Alley today, and what Alfred said in the car.

Dior clenched his fist, a "I knew it" smile appearing on his lips.

It's so familiar, so incredibly familiar.

Because he had been there before!

I know what you're confused about!!!

It was that morbid feeling that surged through your body when you were beating those two thugs.

The pleasure of hurting others.

You are afraid of it, but at the same time, you are also attached to it!

Dior's eyebrows shot up sharply, then stopped mid-air, and his lips slowly returned to their former shape.

Could this be your weakness?

Then let me tell you the answer, an answer that will shake your resolve!

"Bruce, do you hate that feeling?"

Bruce's shoulders tensed for a moment, and his fists clenched silently on his knees, but he did not answer.

Dior saw that moment.

There is a play.

"You know, I was thinking about this very question when I shot that person today."

Bruce finally turned his head and looked at Dio beside him.

Dior's expression turned serious. He raised a finger, and the smooth lines of his face hardened considerably at that moment.

"But the truth is, I wasn't affected at all."

"After all, I, Dio Brando, have done many things in my life that you can't even imagine."

"I've lied for a few pieces of bread, and I've smiled at my enemies to survive."

"But even so, I can distinguish what truly constitutes disgusting evil!"

"Um?"

Bruce uttered a question.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're so stupid."

Dio shook his head, let out a long sigh, and placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"What I'm trying to say is that I know these kinds of guys are evil, so I won't feel guilty about killing them."

"The important thing is how to distinguish these disgusting evils, understand? Like the person who killed your parents."

"When the law fails to bring justice to the parties involved, private revenge becomes just and noble from that point on."

Dio quoted Holmes in a grand and dignified manner, while carefully observing Bruce's reaction.

"Of course, none of that matters."

He moved closer, until they were almost touching.

"The important thing is that I know how to calm the emotions in your heart that are driving you crazy."

Upon hearing this, Bruce gritted his teeth and squeezed out three words.

"What is it?"

"revenge."

Dior whispered in his ear.

Bruce's eyes glazed over for a moment.

He thought of himself, helplessly watching his parents fall in front of him.

If only I had a gun back then...

Dio, seeing the slight wavering in that gaze, withdrew his hand with satisfaction.

He has achieved his goal.

If Batman changed his no-kill policy and stopped playing house with those supervillains, Gotham would definitely become the best city in the world.

However-----

Bruce's wavering gaze gradually hardened as he looked at Dio and uttered a sentence that caused the latter's expression to change slightly:

"No, I will not become an executioner, nor will I kill anyone."

He stood up, looked at Dior who was trying his best to maintain that perfect smile, and patted the ashes off his trousers.

"I just want to find that guy and bring him to justice."

"Thank you for coming to comfort me today. I used to think we were alike, the same kind of people."

"However, it seems that we are still somewhat different today."

"And everyone has secrets, don't they?"

"Let's not delve any deeper into what's going on in the alley. Goodnight, Dior."

Watching Bruce leave, Dio showed no sign of defeat; instead, he seemed lost in thought.

If Bruce Wayne's will were so easily changed, he wouldn't have become Batman.

But that's part of the fun.

Dior stood up with a playful expression, wrapped his bathrobe tighter around himself, and headed towards his room.

After all, there is still a long time to go, and no one can predict what the future holds.

This is just one possibility.