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

"Let me teach you what it means to be unable to get up again!"

boom!

Claws barely managed to parry the tricky punch, and his body instinctively retaliated.

Using his height advantage, Dio nimbly bent down to dodge and then punched his opponent in the ribs with a backhand.

The two exchanged blows for several rounds, but neither could gain the upper hand.

But Claw knew very well that the blond boy in front of him was clearly better at fighting than he was, only he was not as strong.

He had undergone organizational reinforcement and was frozen for many years, and had carried out numerous missions, so his combat experience far surpassed that of ordinary people.

But today, a child who looks only twelve years old was able to fight him to a standstill, and even subtly suppressed him.

A ripple finally appeared in Claw's calm and composed mind.

He doesn't understand.

Why can a child possess such outrageous fighting abilities?

This move, this style, might even rival that of Lord Lei Xiao Augu of the Shadow Dancer Alliance. How is that possible!

Why is God so unfair!

But just as he was thinking, his throat was struck hard again, and the tendons in his abdomen were targeted, causing a strong sense of dizziness to surge up uncontrollably.

The claws struggled to fight back, but the more they fought, the more terrified they became.

Little did they know, Dior on the other side was equally surprised.

He was amazed by every punch and kick he delivered effortlessly, and by his almost instinctive control over his body.

The force of each punch is perfectly controlled; which spot to strike and how much force to use have all become instinctive.

Thomas Wayne's fighting skills have earned him the title of "Master of Close Combat," but this is completely different from the style of other Batmen.

If Bruce Wayne's fighting style is a restrained and beautiful art, then Thomas Wayne's fighting style is violence, a violence fueled by rage.

The claws' supposedly superior regenerative abilities offered no help at this moment, instead becoming a punching bag for Dior's forging techniques.

Dio was so engrossed in beating the indestructible punching bag that he didn't notice something.

With each punch he landed, powder began to disperse from the cloth bag at the waist of the mysterious black-clad pervert.

"Is this all you've got?!"

Dior constantly adjusted his breathing rhythm to conserve his energy, but his strikes became increasingly cunning.

Sudden---

Bang, bang.

Dior's movements slowed down, and everything around him slowed down as well, like a slow-motion scene in a movie.

My heartbeat was unusually loud, but faster than usual.

He frowned, listening to his increasingly loud heartbeat, and realized something was wrong.

Time has slowed down? I've awakened the World Stand?

The ever-growing fist in front of him told him----

You're mistaken.

Damn it! Something's wrong with my body!

In the middle of the move!

Dio's pupils contracted sharply as a fist drew ever closer.

"Kid, you're still too young."

Claw couldn't help but sneer, his suppressed emotions finally finding release.

A hint of smugness flickered in his cold eyes, as if he had already foreseen the scene of his target being knocked unconscious.

That punch should swell that handsome face up like a pig's head, right?

The world in Claw's vision was actually slowing down, but due to his frequent training, he had long since developed a tolerance to the drugs.

The fist came down from above, and Dio was prepared to take the hit.

But the body acted on its own.

A clean and crisp screen deflected the fist aside, and he used the momentum to turn around, instantly getting behind the claw.

He pulled the revolver out from behind his waist.

Click.

The sound of a gun being cocked echoed behind Claw's head.

"What?!!"

Claw's eyes widened, and its body stiffened.

boom!

The gun barrel spewed forth a torrent of flames, and the bullet, burning hot, pierced into the claw's head.

The sound of the skull shattering was exceptionally clear in the silence.

The tall body fell to the ground with a thud.

A flicker of excitement flashed in Dior's eyes, but his pupils dilated uncontrollably.

"You... huh?"

The next second, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, powerless.

"Is this a hallucinogen? You're carrying hallucinogens with you?"

No one answered him.

The battle ended in Dio's victory.

But where no one was watching, the bloody hole on Claw's head was slowly healing.

The entire Wayne Manor was silent.

Less than a minute later, the door was suddenly opened!

Bruce, gun in hand, rushed in through the door without making a sound.

"I am Bruce Wayne! The heir to the Wayne family! You've come to the wrong place!"

No one answered.

He paced back and forth until he found the switch and turned on the light.

The moment the lights came on, Bruce saw Dio slumped on the ground and a man in black lying on the ground covered in blood.

"Dio!"

He rushed over, reached out and felt for the pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it was still beating.

"Watch out...that freak."

Dio felt his head was in a mess, and he couldn't concentrate at all, so he couldn't use his Stand.

"A freak?"

Bruce frowned, and just as he was about to turn around, a sharp pain shot through the back of his neck.

He instinctively reached out to touch it, but his vision kept turning black.

With a thud, Bruce was knocked unconscious.

Claw barely managed to heal the wound on his forehead, dug out the bullet and threw it on the ground, then staggered toward the blond boy, took a cloth bag from his waistband, and couldn't help but reveal a playful smile on his face.

In front of the blond boy, he slowly took out a slender steel needle from his cloth bag.

Dio stared wide-eyed as the needle tip grew larger in his field of vision. He tried to resist, but he had no strength at all.

A slight stinging sensation came from between my eyebrows.

"Kid, let me see what's hidden in your heart."

Claw took a deep sniff of the medicine on the stamp at the end of the long needle, and his body went limp.

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

The world of the mind.

Claw opened its eyes again and found itself in a small town in a hot desert.

The highway, the barbed wire, and the bustling tavern in the distance—all these things demonstrate the strength of the world's master's heart.

After all, the inner world of an ordinary person cannot be so perfect.

Where is Dior?

A strong sense of vigilance rose in Claw's heart. Ignoring the numb people around him, he looked around.

Soon, a blond man with a distinctive expression and unique demeanor came into view.

"Is that Dio Brando? The grown-up Dio Brando?"

At that moment, Dior was chatting and laughing with a simply dressed woman.

Seemingly sensing the gaze of the scoundrel, he stood up.

"Dio, what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Mother. Please wait for me a moment, okay?"

Dior smiled genuinely.

The moment he turned around, his expression instantly darkened.

Just as Claw was about to rush over,

Suddenly, countless throwing knives appeared in his line of sight, surrounding him tightly.

In the distance, Dior's figure vanished from the spot as if erased by an eraser.

"What! This-----!"

*Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!*

Claw had no time to react and could only watch as the throwing knives that suddenly appeared in front of him pierced his body.

Thanks to the physical modifications, he felt no pain and managed to pull out the throwing knives one by one.

"Huff... Huff... Huff..."

He was panting heavily, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his forehead.

His martial arts instincts told him that something terrifying was behind him.

He was just about to turn his head---

"The world! This is my time all to myself!!"

The whole world came to a standstill.

Claw's movements and consciousness, along with the entire world, were all put on pause.

Dio, his face contorted with murderous intent, had already appeared behind him, his body ablaze with golden flames. The golden giant behind him raised a deadly hand chop with an expressionless face.

It is Dior's true substitute—The World.

The World!

"Farewell forever!!!!"

The sound of wind breaking through the air crashed down.

Pfft!!!

Limbs were scattered everywhere.