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

three days later.

Dior changed into a sharp suit and stood in front of the mirror, while the stylist behind him meticulously styled his hair.

The shockwave from the Flash's time travel may seem terrifying, but its power is actually limited; after resting for forty-eight hours, he'll be fine.

However, this encounter did refresh the lottery pool with many abilities related to The Flash, which is undoubtedly a good thing.

Dior glanced at Bruce beside him, whose hair was still being repeatedly styled by the stylist, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

Compared to himself, Bruce's hairstyle, like his temper, was obviously more difficult to manage, and any slight flaw would require a complete overhaul.

But this is understandable, after all, tonight is a charity dinner attended by Wayne's top executives, so it's normal to pay more attention to it.

"Alfred, we're ready."

Dior picked up his phone, his gaze sweeping over Bruce.

"You can go and rest now, don't worry."

"Of course, I believe in you."

"By the way, there's news about what you asked me to look into."

Alfred's slightly weak voice came from the other end of the phone.

"Louise Lane, General Lane's daughter, is ten years old, two years younger than you."

"However, young master Dior, if I may be so bold, it seems premature for you to be considering such matters now."

"You've misunderstood. Get some rest," Dior replied coldly, then hung up the phone.

These days, as news focus shifts, the availability of snake venom solutions on the streets has noticeably decreased.

Dior speculated that it might be due to the high number of homeless deaths, or it might be due to a decrease in news coverage.

Whatever the answer is, there must be some connection between the news, the homeless, and the snakebite solution.

Moreover, the investigation revealed that Stan Potolsky was not only the developer of the drug, but also very likely its distributor.

He probably wanted to draw public attention by creating deaths, forcing Vezan Pharmaceuticals to abandon the development of this poison.

However, it backfired.

The powerful elites kept their doors tightly shut, while the police relentlessly crammed people into prison.

Those gentlemen completely ignored these guys.

In just one day, the uproar that swept through Gotham's East End almost disappeared.

God knows what other stupid things that guy might do.

Dior put the newspaper aside and got up to walk towards the banquet hall.

"Okay, stop now."

Bruce was finally satisfied with his new look and stood up from his chair.

The two boys walked side by side into the brightly lit banquet hall.

As heirs and adopted sons of the Wayne family, they naturally became the focus of everyone's conversation.

Dior wore an impeccable smile as he shook hands and interacted with one complete stranger after another.

Look at these people's fawning attitude... Bruce, it's disgusting.

But I'll be even more pretentious than you! In the end, I'll be above them!

A fleeting, almost imperceptible look of disgust crossed Dior's eyes, but it was quickly masked by his perfect smile.

Bruce, standing beside him, had a rather gloomy expression.

It was supposed to be a charity gala for the Wayne Corporation, and he, as the heir, was supposed to be attending, but not a single member of the board of directors showed up.

He pretended to be calm as he looked around at the diverse guests in the hall, but a surge of anger welled up inside him.

Today, he had hoped to use the snake venom and evidence of irregularities in the Arkham Project as bargaining chips, but it seems that all of that was in vain.

The board of directors didn't care about the dinner party at all, nor did they care about him as the heir.

"Excuse me for a moment." Bruce smiled coldly and placed the juice on the table.

Dior, who had just finished a round of handshakes, took it all in and sneered inwardly.

It's been so long, and even though no one from the board of directors has come, neither have Thomas's former confidants.

The Owl Court has really made a brilliant move.

Dior's gaze shifted, and he turned to a Black woman in front of him, speaking naturally.

"Excuse me, do you know where the people at Vizan Pharmaceuticals are located?"

"Well...."

The woman named Mathis looked troubled, glanced around, and shook her head helplessly.

"They... are probably very busy too."

"After all, the Wayne family has built a multi-billion dollar business empire, which is truly remarkable."

"Yes, that's really impressive."

Dior feigned agreement, but felt a bit annoyed by the clichéd lines playing on a loop on the big screen behind him.

At that moment, he actually began to understand Bruce a little.

Talking to this group is pointless; it's much more fun to go back to Wayne Manor and play those games of wits with Bruce.

Sizzle sizzle.

The big screen flickered twice.

This is incredibly boring.

Dior simply put the juice on the table and turned to walk towards the door.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Suddenly, a disheveled man with a full beard but meticulously groomed hair appeared on the big screen.

"This is an environmental message that represents all living beings."

Dio stopped abruptly and turned to look.

"Stan?"

He recognized the man on the screen, and his gaze swept across the surroundings, a series of thoughts flashing through his mind:

A closed banquet hall, middle and senior management of Wayne Group, a charity dinner, and a ventilation vent not far away.

The fragmented clues were instantly pieced together.

This guy is trying to poison Wayne Enterprises executives to gain public attention!

madman!!

[Mission: Self-Defense Counterattack]

[A deranged member of an environmental organization is trying to murder you and make today's events headline news. Fight back bravely!]

[Reward: 200 points]

"So that's what you were planning!"

Dio gave a low shout, ignoring the astonished looks of those around him, kicked open the door, and rushed toward the rooftop.

Bruce, who had just come out of the restroom, witnessed Dio's actions and heard the sounds coming from the banquet hall. His expression changed drastically, and he immediately followed.

"How did you manage to catch up???"

Hearing footsteps behind him, Dio turned around and asked sharply.

"That's Stan, right? I need to talk to him!"

Bruce speaks rapidly and keeps moving:

"If he can testify, proving that Vegan Pharmaceuticals violated regulations, I can order them to stop developing that drug!"

"You're so naive!" Dio snapped without turning around.

As they spoke, the two rushed to the rooftop.

This is the best spot for the view and also the core of the building's ventilation system.

Dior quickly scanned the area and his gaze immediately locked onto a figure crouching next to the air conditioner unit.

He instinctively reached for his waist, but then remembered that he had already handed over his gun when he attended the banquet.

Damn!

"Bruce".

Dior gave him a look.

Bruce understood immediately and flanked from the other side.

"Hey! You over there! Turn off the device!"

Dio shouted loudly, trying to get Stan's attention.

Stan paused, turned around, and upon seeing it was just a child, a contemptuous smile appeared on his face:

"Kids shouldn't get involved in this kind of thing."

However, due to the distance and the strong wind on the rooftop, by the time the sound reached us, it was barely distinguishable from the buzzing of a mosquito.

Dior frowned and immediately raised his voice to mock:

As the old saying goes, the quieter the voice, the greater the impact!

"Did you forget your vocal cords at home?!"

Stan ignored him and continued pressurizing the sealed canister, preparing to spray the agent into the ventilation system all at once.

"It's okay, child. I know you're angry, but you don't need to be angry anymore."

"As long as I kill the Gotham Prince, this matter will definitely attract attention, and Vezan Pharmaceuticals will..."

Snap! Bruce, who had reached behind Stan, didn't hesitate and cleanly slammed a brick into the back of his head, while simultaneously turning off the valve.

"Well!"

Stan groaned, clutching his head, staring incredulously at Bruce before him.

"You you you you you you..."

Finally, he saw stars and then collapsed to the ground with a thud.

"You've come at just the right time."

Dior walked over in an annoyed manner.

"There was no other way. If we had been any later, the entire banquet hall would have been engulfed in poison gas."

Bruce explained, panting.

Seeing Stan unconscious on the ground, Dio stopped Bruce from calling the police.

His gaze fell on the nearby garbage chute, a cold smile curling at the corner of his lips:

"I have a suggestion."

"I think we should ask him first."

"About Vezan, about Wayne, about that damn potion..."

"Really? Okay."

Bruce also saw the passage, and a knowing smile appeared on his face.

"I just wonder if this gentleman is ready to spread his wings and fly high."