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

A few hours later.

At the scene of the Balloon Man's murder, Harvey arrives with a team of police officers.

The Irish detective with a beer belly stylishly opened the car door, stepped on it, and froze on the spot.

Because the scene was directly in his direction.

"Oh my God!"

Harvey kept swallowing, taking deep breaths, and trying his best to keep the churning contents of his stomach from rising up.

After a long while, he managed to suppress his nausea, turned his back, and complained to Gordon in a low voice:

"Fuck! I'm about to throw up the tacos I ate for breakfast."

"Why didn't you tell me the scene was so disgusting, ugh!"

Harvey quickly covered his mouth.

He made a special effort to tidy himself up before coming, not wanting to lose face in front of his nephew.

When he saw that puddle of...human mud? Human sauce? In short, a bunch of sticky stuff that he couldn't quite identify, he almost threw up on the spot.

Having been a detective for so many years, I've seen all sorts of disgusting scenes, from the Sheep God case to the congressman's death case, but at least those people were still human.

This scene isn't a person, it's sauce, sauce that looks like a person.

Heaven knows why balloonists would use weather balloons to tie to people's feet.

They clearly had guns.

Why go through all that trouble!

"I can't hold on much longer, I drank half the night last night."

Gordon looked at his partner with amusement, or rather, at the hickeys on Harvey's neck, and immediately understood everything.

"Tina from the archives? Thank you for your hard work."

He paused, then continued, "By the way, have you spread the story I asked you to?"

"Don't even mention it," Harvey said, unable to express his frustration. "I shouldn't have agreed to your request a few hours ago. And that Dio kid, ugh—"

A few days ago, he almost lost his life trying to get the Wayne couple's files for Dio.

Tina, the archives clerk, is, to be fair, a really good girl, provided you ignore her 300-pound belly.

Afterwards, Harvey had barely recovered when he had to help Gordon spread rumors, which really took his life.

"Let's hurry up and call it a day."

Harvey looked left and right to make sure no one was around, then leaned close to Gordon's ear and whispered.

"The police commissioner said the focus is on the balloon man; this time it was the police inspector who died, and the higher-ups want us to arrest him quickly."

He pointed intently at Gordon's chest, his feigned fierceness masking his deep concern for his partner.

"Listen to me, stop investigating the Wayne case. Wayne is the king of Gotham, and you? You're just an ordinary detective."

"You think you can get away with anything just because you have Wayne backing you up?"

"Fuck, that's all bullshit! You're an idiot! The Wayne case is closed!"

Gordon waited until he finished cursing before wiping the spittle from his face and speaking calmly:

"This time is different."

Harvey opened his mouth, but his anger was swallowed back by those words.

He pointed at the stubborn Gordon and finally sighed.

"Fine, whatever you want, but before that, let's settle this matter first."

"The police inspector told us to take the body and leave immediately."

"Okay, let's call it a day."

Gordon quickly organized his colleagues to return to base.

The police arrived quickly and left quickly.

Carrying that "police inspector sauce" with him, he disappeared into the night without stopping.

Dior stood by the study window, watching the police car's taillights disappear into the distance.

Was the Gotham Police Department's hasty departure ordered by an insider, or was it just a coincidence?

Is it really such a coincidence?

As is well known, Wayne Manor is located in the suburbs.

After the police left, only a middle-aged butler and three young children remained in the entire manor.

If something bad happens, you'll be left helpless, with no one to turn to for help.

This is a good opportunity.

A great opportunity that even a 12-year-old like me can understand.

Dio rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.

Given the nature of the mastermind behind this, their target this time is definitely not just Selena.

After all, there should be more than one witness. Having finally emerged from underground, it would be logical for them to completely eliminate all clues.

Then have Gordon investigate who else is connected to Wayne Enterprises and happens to be dead...

This is a bloody clue!

The sky gradually darkened.

Dior gazed at the forest surrounding the manor, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

"The Gotham police have all left?"

Selena sat on the sofa, legs crossed, happily munching on bread.

"This bread is delicious; there are no sawdust particles in it."

"So you've decided to stay?" Dio turned around.

"Of course, it's a waste not to stay here."

Selena stopped pretending altogether; the blond boy in front of her had seen right through her anyway.

She originally planned to use her pretty face to charm Bruce Wayne, the Gotham prince, but who knew that the two Wayne boys were such freaks.

One of them, with his handsome face that made him even more aristocratic than a young nobleman, seduced her and tricked her into revealing information.

The other plan was to first build a good relationship with her, lower her guard, and then try to get information out of her.

Are these two boys monks from the East?

Isn't twelve years old the age when one's heart begins to flutter with love?

This is not normal!

Selena munched on her bread angrily, determined to get her revenge for the humiliation she suffered at Wayne's house that day.

"Speaking of which, you two are really alike," she said vaguely. "I was just trying to be friendly, but you two always try to trick me into saying things."

Dio glanced at the book "Introduction to Psychology" on the table and immediately understood.

This book was an assignment given by Alfred, and both he and Bruce had read it.

In summary, the most useful techniques in this book are only two clichés:

One is to invade another person's private space to gain a psychological advantage, and the other is to pretend to establish a friendly relationship to make the other person lower their guard.

It seems Bruce has also used it.

"Hmph." Dio closed the book and walked to the window. "Who looks like him?"

-----------------

A police car was parked on the side of the road in front of the courthouse.

Gordon opened the car door, glanced around, quickly locked onto his target, and strode over.

"You're Harvey Dent?"

A man in a beige trench coat with his hands in his pockets turned around on the steps.

"I'm Jim Gordon, GCPD. You're Harvey? I mean the other Harvey, the one you introduced?"

Gordon extended his hand.

"Jim Gordon? GCPD? I've heard so much about him."

Dante sized up the newcomer, exchanged polite words, and casually glanced at the sky.

"Brock mentioned you to me and said many good things about you."

Gordon also noticed that the sky was getting dark and decisively suggested:

"Let's go somewhere else."

The two quickly walked into the alley next door.

"To put it simply, your witnesses are of no use whatsoever, but I happen to suspect someone else."

Harvey took the lead, pulling a photograph from his pocket; it was a document from the investigation that Detective Brock had commissioned him to handle.

It wasn't just Gordon investigating the Wayne couple's case; his partner Harvey Block was also secretly investigating, though he didn't say it out loud.

"Dick Lovecraft".

Harvey Dent handed the photo to Gordon.

"A billionaire, involved in real estate, chemicals, and construction; extremely corrupt."

"Falcone, Maroni, and even the Wayne Group have all done business with him."

"Lovecraft and Thomas Wayne have long disagreed on business and political issues."

"Do you understand what I mean, Detective Gordon?"

Gordon took the photo, his gaze darkening.

"I understand, I will go find him."