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

Chapter 124 The Root of a Disastrous Life (Foreshadowing)

Early in the morning, Reggie was already warming up.

He still felt somewhat guilty about using camaraderie to steal intelligence.

But there was only a little bit of guilt.

After all, what's the use of feeling guilty when you can't even survive?

He silently moved his body, ravaged by the drugs, slowly loosening his stiff joints.

Soon, footsteps sounded.

Two teenagers who had finished breakfast walked over.

"Did you sleep well, Reggie?"

Bruce continued playing the role he had played yesterday, with a smile on his face.

Dior crossed his arms, glancing at people out of the corner of his eye, and occasionally rolling his eyes.

"Of course, to be honest, I'm not used to it. I haven't slept in such a soft bed in a long time."

Reggie rubbed his lower back; he usually slept in the poisonous den with a blanket on it.

"Enough with the nonsense, let's begin. Let me see what you're capable of."

"you?"

Dior spoke, but his tone remained devoid of any kindness.

"Wait, you mean, you guys?"

"Of course, both of you come at me, let me see your skills."

Reggie draped his jacket over the steps, revealing his fairly well-defined muscles underneath.

"I heard Alfred can no longer teach you, but I'm different from him."

"Back in the army, I often beat him up because of his ugly face!"

A hint of displeasure flashed in Bruce's eyes, but he remained silent.

"Come on, boys!"

Reggie yelled, putting his fists in front of his face in a standard boxing stance.

Dior and Bruce exchanged a glance, both seeing a strange look in each other's eyes.

Is that even a requirement?

Is it okay to take a beating willingly?

"Okay, you said it yourself."

The two took off their coats, stood side by side, assumed the same stance, and exchanged a glance.

"Then..."

Reggie had just taken a deep breath and hadn't even had a chance to shout "Start!" when Bruce threw the first punch.

Dio followed closely behind, taking advantage of Reggie's momentary dodge to attack his lower body.

The two cooperated perfectly, one feinting while the other focused on the bottom lane.

"What?! This kind of teamwork?!"

Is this the kind of teamwork a teenager should have?

This kind of cooperation is probably not common even in the military!

Reggie had no choice but to take two steps back and throw a punch while he was at it!

However, the blond boy who attacked his lower body seemed to have anticipated this, dodging to the side and grabbing his arm in the next second.

Grappling, using leverage, and wrestling are techniques Batman frequently employs, and they are especially effective against targets with a significant size difference.

Reggie's pupils contracted sharply.

That was too fast!

The force of the grab landed precisely on the soft tendons of his elbow joint.

"Ugh!!!"

Before Reggie could even regain his balance, the whole world suddenly flipped over.

The lawn, the steps, and the flowers of the manor spun wildly in his field of vision before he slammed hard onto the ground.

A sharp pain struck.

Bruce quickly closed in!

Reggie grunted, forced to watch helplessly as a foot wearing a training shoe rapidly enlarged in his field of vision.

Bruce's face passed by upside down at the edge of his vision, expressionless.

How can he be so strong!

Is this still a child?!

"etc!"

The next second, everything went black for Reggie, and he completely passed out.

"Dio, you went too far."

A hint of boredom flashed in Bruce's eyes.

Reggie is a very strong fighter, but his body can't keep up anymore.

Long-term drug abuse had already destroyed a top fighting master.

"You still say I went too far? Humph!"

"That clean, decisive kick of yours, you didn't hold back, did you?"

Dio rolled his eyes and subconsciously glanced at Reggie lying on the ground.

A person in a coma reveals a lot of information, showing whether they have been in a dangerous environment for a long time.

Reggie's posture suggested extreme insecurity, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

"I just wanted to create an environment for conversation."

Bruce said calmly.

"Bruce, wait a minute, something's wrong with him."

Dio frowned, squatted down, and began searching his opponent's body for something.

Finally, he lifted Reggie's shirt and found a tattoo on the inside of the man's arm.

"An assassin, he's a hired assassin."

"Like 'Matchstick' Marlon, Reggie is in the same line of work."

The reason I'm so sure is because there are plenty of people like that in Gotham.

People who are short of money either accept commissions from gangs or intermediaries, or sell their blood for drug trials.

A veteran, able-bodied but unable to adapt to society and desiring medication, is driven to murder.

"Hey Bruce, I've suddenly become a little interested."

Dior astutely discovered the connection between the two.

Reggie is a hired assassin who came to steal information.

But the people who hire are the court of owls.

But then another question arises: Does Reggie know that he is being employed by them?

Dior believed that Reggie was unaware of this.

The court will use a different identity to impersonate someone, such as a director of Wayne Enterprises.

In other words.

Once they find out who hired him, they can expose the mole planted in Wayne Enterprises by the court.

Bruce only wanted to pass on false information through Reggie and hadn't yet figured out the bigger picture.

This is my victory, Dio!

"What did you discover?"

Bruce said in a deep voice.

"It depends on what price you're willing to pay."

A glint of greed flashed in Dior's eyes.

Through Reggie, he could at least uncover a mid-level director with ties to the court, and also find out about the court's underground network operated through the hitman boss "Madam".

When Gotham descends into chaos again, these will be readily available trump cards.

"So, Bruce, what price are you willing to pay?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes, glanced at Reggie on the ground, and, making sure he wouldn't wake up anytime soon, slowly said, "I've found out something about your father, something interesting."

Upon hearing this, a hint of disgust flashed in Dior's eyes, and he snorted coldly.

"That scumbag?"

Clearly, he had no interest in that scumbag father.

Bruce nodded to himself.

Dior's reaction was exactly what he expected.

He knew that if he wanted to pry his ideas out of Dior, the price he would have to pay would be absolutely unacceptable.

Because Dior was the kind of person who viewed "letting you see through my thoughts" as a way for superiors to bestow favors upon subordinates.

"To be precise, I found some connections between your father and that organization."

Dio paused, staring intently into Bruce's eyes:

Say it again.

"Dio, I understand that you want to make a trade, right?"

Bruce didn't avoid Dio's fiery gaze and said softly.

"I've made progress on this matter."

Damn it, you think you can control me like this!

Bruce!

Upon hearing this, Dior's fingers trembled slightly at his sides, but his face remained expressionless.

After several seconds, he managed to squeeze out a sentence from his throat:

"...I can find it myself."

He stepped over Reggie and headed toward the garage.

Actually, Dio didn't want to say much about that scumbag father.

I heard my mother say a long time ago that the Brando family used to be quite wealthy, and his grandfather was a very famous tailor.

Dalio Brando inherited the family business and was also very ambitious after getting married.

But not long after, domestic violence, alcoholism, and drug abuse—his true nature seemed to be revealed.

"What a scumbag!"

Dior spat and continued walking forward, his mind involuntarily turning.

Bruce said Dalio has ties to the Owl Court.

That makes sense. The fact that I was chosen by the owl and adopted by the Wayne family was all orchestrated by the same person.

It seems that besides good luck, there were other reasons why I was chosen.

It all started with you.

Dior took out his phone and looked at the number pinned to the top of the screen.

【contact person】

What exactly is your connection to my family?

Dalio became such a scumbag, even if it was his nature, wasn't it also your doing?

Dior clenched his fist.

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