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

"I've decided to hand over the original formula to GCPD."

Bruce gripped the document in his hand, his gaze growing increasingly resolute.

This time, he chose to trust the GCPD and trust Gordon.

"Gordon again?"

Dior chuckled and crossed his arms.

He wasn't so optimistic about Gordon's current situation.

Not long ago, Gordon was summoned to the office by the police superintendent and the mayor.

The fact that a junior detective was personally summoned by the mayor couldn't be clearer.

Lovecraft's affair needs a scapegoat.

Gordon, who is the least popular person in the Gotham Police Department, is the best candidate.

Sure enough, Bruce had just contacted Gordon using a public phone when he learned that Gordon had been transferred to Arkham.

Gordon was reassigned to Arkham.

Bruce gripped the formula tightly in his hand, his expression gradually darkening.

What is Arkham?

That's a gathering place for lunatics!

He was afraid that Gordon would get trapped and never be able to get out.

"This worry is unnecessary."

Although Dio mocked Gordon as an idiot, the guy was an idiot with perseverance.

It's just Arkham, consider it an opportunity to study for a while.

"Our biggest concern right now is, what exactly is wrong with Wayne Group?"

Wayne Enterprises is one of the world's leading multinational corporations, and its snake venom products are just the tip of the iceberg.

The Court of Owls wields considerable power within Wayne Enterprises, and the interests of both sides are likely intertwined.

If he wants to take over the Wayne family, he must get past the Court of Owls; otherwise, he'll be a puppet for life.

There's a saying that goes, "To defeat your enemy, you must first understand him."

Just as you need to understand the temperament of each horse to ride it, you need to find the purpose of the Court of Owls in order to find their weaknesses.

The problem is, the clues have completely dried up, and he's not good at investigating cases...

Dio glanced reluctantly at the guy next to him who would one day become the world's best detective, then quickly looked away.

"It seems that in a short time, our interests have become one again."

Bruce glanced at his reluctant expression and smiled gently.

With his intelligence, he could naturally see through Dio's insincere expression and what he was really thinking.

Considering what happened with Alfred earlier, Bruce felt he could raise his level of trust in Dio a little.

Of course, this is on the premise that the interests of the two parties are aligned.

"Hmph, you should have a clue by now, right?"

Bruce nodded, and under Dior's somewhat expectant gaze, he confessed:

"To be honest... no."

"That's fantastic."

Dior rubbed his temples.

He lost his direction.

The Court of Owls is a long-term enemy, and there will be no direct conflict in the short term.

The problem is that those people like to "reboot Gotham" all the time.

Who could stand this?

Dio strongly suspects that the Viper Potion is their first step in restarting Gotham.

After all, Gotham is already in such a terrible state—corruption, malfeasance, crime rate, which is the highest in the United States.

Given that group treats Gotham like their own backyard, it's understandable that they would use a drug to carry out a major purge.

"I have a feeling that there must be something wrong with Vizan Pharmaceuticals."

Bruce thought about it for a long time and finally chose to believe his father.

"It's definitely not my father's problem, but it's definitely related to him."

Dior nodded.

Wayne Enterprises is like Pandora's box; the deeper you dig, the more terrifying the contents become.

Bruce continued:

"There's a banquet in a couple of days, and the top executives of Wayne Group will be attending. We can test the waters there."

"Moreover, my father always locks the study door when he works, so there must be something wrong inside."

Dio followed Bruce's train of thought and found that it really was a path, so he decisively spoke up:

"Then let's split up. You go check on Alfred, and I'll search the study."

"good!"

Not long after, the taxi stopped in front of Wayne Manor.

Dior got out of the car, flipping through Thomas Wayne's autobiography as he walked.

The book details Thomas's inner journey—going to the battlefield to become a doctor and provide aid to the poor in Gotham.

One by one, item by item, there isn't a single word of self-praise in the entire piece, but Thomas must have thought he was a good person.

"It's hard to imagine that someone like him would restart the venom drug project."

Dior pushed open the door and went straight to the study without stopping.

According to Bruce, Thomas would lock his study while he worked, and play classical music inside; nobody knew what he was doing.

But to be honest, even after Dio and Bruce had been in the study for so long, they still couldn't see anything unusual about it.

"Sex Pistols!"

Six tiny, pointy-headed figures flew happily around Dio.

"Dio, Dio."

"Hungry, hungry."

"Dio, No. 3 is bullying me again!"

"It's so noisy! Shut up!"

Dio frowned, took out the ham he had prepared beforehand, and fed it to his stand-in.

The sexy pistol is great, but it has one drawback: it's too noisy. Six mouths, six voices, six consciousnesses.

Dio, Dio, it's like the Calabash Brothers calling for their grandfather.

"Alright, after you finish eating, help me look for clues in the room!"

Dior began searching the study, looking behind bookshelves, under the sofa, and in every corner.

Half an hour later, he smashed the photo frame on the table and collapsed wearily onto the sofa.

All the books were moved down and piled up everywhere—on the sofa, chairs, and tables.

"Damn bat brat!"

Dio is now beginning to suspect that Bruce is lying to him.

There were no clues in the study at all!

But his intuition told him that the clue was right there, he just hadn't found it yet.

"Damn, Arkham has locked up a bunch of crazy people with great intuition."

"At this rate, I'll go blind before I find any clues."

Dior sighed wearily and reached for the Coke on the table, but his eyes kept glancing at the autobiography of Thomas.

His outstretched hand froze in mid-air, and as if possessed, he picked up the book he had already read several times.

"What my father left me was not a company, but a city that could swallow me up at any moment."

"That's when I realized that the Wayne family's mission was not to run a business, but to manage Gotham."

"I'm Thomas Wayne, an entrepreneur whose dream was to become a doctor..."

The book details his dreams, his wife's depression, and even his funding of masked street fighters against gangs.

"The Stoic school—I was captivated by it the first time I learned about it."

Dior continued reading,

"It emphasizes reason, virtue, and following nature, which can calm the mind."

"Marcus Aurelius is my favorite emperor; he, like me, was a Stoic."

Dior's voice suddenly stopped.

"Stoic?"

He suddenly jumped up from the sofa and frantically searched through the pile of books.

Finally, an old book with a brown cover was pulled out by a slightly trembling hand.

As the pages of the book turned, a fair hand reached into a compartment and pulled out a remote control.

Dior held the black remote control, his mouth slightly open, his expression complex.

The answer has always been right beside me.