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

"Waaah, poor Tommy."

Dior straightened his collar slightly, a pitying smile playing on his lips, and turned his gaze to the rest of the people.

"By the way, I have some tips for dating girls, and I can make an exception and teach them to you—only for people here."

"Really?"

In the crowd, a chubby boy suddenly straightened up and couldn't help but swallow.

"You need more skills? Your face needs more skills?"

Tommy's younger brother was still somewhat skeptical, but what teenager could resist such a temptation?

"Of course."

Dior tilted his head slightly, golden hair falling from his temples, and the condescending smile on his lips deepened.

"But you can't tell Bruce that guy is a playboy who loves other people's girlfriends."

"Yeah?"

"I never imagined Bruce Wayne would be this kind of person."

Whispers spread like ripples through the crowd.

Tommy heard Dior's words too, his eyes red as he glared at Bruce, his voice low as he managed to squeeze out:

"Did you hear that, Bu? You're an orphan, a freak who likes to hit other people's girlfriends."

"My name is Bruce, not some 'Little Bruce,' thank you."

Bruce turned a page of his physics book, his eyes never leaving the page.

"Listen! You have no parents, so I can call you whatever I want!"

Bruce's fingertips paused for a moment on the edge of the page, his eyes darkened for a second, and then he continued to slide down.

"Okay. Please don't bother me anymore."

"Also, Dior's assessment of you is correct; you are a mediocre talent."

He glanced at Tommy indifferently:

"In any era, someone like you would be manipulated by others to take the blame."

Tommy's face turned pale and then flushed.

He opened his mouth, wanting to curse back, but somehow he wanted to reopen that most painful wound.

He had heard about the Wayne couple long ago, knew the alley, and knew the photos of the pearls scattered on the ground.

All of Gotham knows.

The newspaper photos were so clear, portraying the Wayne family heir as weak and helpless.

Thinking of this, Tommy took a deep breath and a vicious smile appeared on his lips.

"You're pretty arrogant, you freak. Your father definitely didn't raise you properly."

He didn't notice Bruce's slightly darkening gaze and continued his mocking remarks.

"I heard your mother is outside—"

Before he could finish speaking...

A dark shadow flashed by.

A sharp pain, as if I had been violently beaten, instantly shot through my ribs.

Tommy's eyes widened suddenly, and he tried to open his mouth, but it was tightly covered, and he could only let out a distorted wail.

Teenagers at this age value their reputation the most.

If I shouted it out in the classroom, I would definitely be laughed at.

"Ugh~~~~!"

He bent over, covered his ribs with his hands, and pressed his forehead against the edge of the desk.

The world seemed to quiet down, and all the sounds around us could be heard clearly.

Some people gasped, some whispered, some moved their chairs back, and some laughed.

Tommy wanted to lift his head, to prove he was alright, to force a nonchalant smile.

But his ribs hurt so much that his eyes stung, and he couldn't even pretend to be in pain.

Bruce withdrew his fist and slowly stood up straight.

His face showed no anger, no pleasure, not even any expression.

"Don't mention my mother."

"Well...."

Tommy gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up straight, his lips trembling as he stubbornly held his neck.

Everyone in the classroom could see his stubborn pride and the resulting suffering, except for himself.

Bruce looked at him like this, and a flicker of emotion finally appeared in his eyes.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on Tommy's shoulder.

The force wasn't strong, it was even quite gentle, but Tommy's shoulders still instinctively shrank back.

Bruce leaned close to his ear, speaking in a voice so low that only the two of them could hear.

"Your father's name is Robert Thompson, and he is the workshop director of Chemical Plant No. 4, which is owned by Wayne Group."

"Your mother's name is Catherine Thompson. She works in the finance department of Wayne Enterprises, auditing accounts."

You also have a younger sister who just started elementary school this year.

Tommy's pupils contracted slightly.

"After school, I'll invite your father's department manager for tea."

Bruce straightened up and patted non-existent dust off Tommy's shoulder.

"I'd also like to speak with your mother's CFO. I heard they've been restructuring their personnel recently, and I think—"

He turned his head, looked at Tommy's eyes that finally showed fear, and smiled softly.

"Your parents probably also want to spend more time with their family."

After saying that, Bruce, with a gloomy face, opened the classroom door and walked out.

Tommy stood there dumbfounded, his hand still clutching his ribs, but he could no longer feel the pain.

[You used your wicked wisdom to transfer a trouble that should have happened to you to someone else. Points +100]

[Your charisma inspired your classmates to use passive-aggressive tactics against Batman, successfully tempering Batman's will. Points +100]

This is what anger feels like, Bruce.

Dior glanced at the panel and smiled with satisfaction.

This is the desired result. After these days, he has also figured out how to use the two systems.

You can easily step on your right foot with your left foot to get a lot of points.

If we can comfort Bruce now and calm him down, we'll probably get another wave of points.

"Could everyone please move aside?"

Dior stood up, his voice neither loud nor soft, but the entire classroom instantly fell silent.

The crowd automatically parted to the sides, making way for a path.

He squeezed through the crowd and finally stopped in front of the Tommy Noodles.

The two were only half a step apart.

Dio reached out and gently placed his hand on Tommy's shoulder, just like Bruce had done earlier.

Tommy felt a scald on his shoulder and instinctively shrank back, but Dio's fingers tightened, rendering him unable to move.

The blond boy leaned close to his ear and whispered:

"Does it hurt? If it does, that's good. Just like Bruce said, you're a mediocre person."

Tommy's breath hitched.

"You hate Bruce? You hate that he's rich? You hate that he's handsome? You hate that girls flock to him without him even saying a word?"

Dior lowered his voice, so low that only the two of them could hear him.

"You're hating the wrong person. You should hate yourself, hate yourself for not choosing the right womb when you were born."

"People like you are cannon fodder no matter the era. No offense intended, I'm just stating the facts."

He turned around and walked towards the door without looking back.

"Dio!" Tommy's voice came from behind, "Stop right there!"

The door opened.

Bruce walked ahead, his steps slow, but a low-pressure atmosphere surrounded him.

Dio's lips curled slightly, and he immediately quickened his pace to walk alongside him.

"Alfred is very worried about you; today is the day he's supposed to be discharged from the hospital."

He said, "Given that you haven't been very sociable lately, I'd like you to consider inviting some classmates over for a party."

Bruce didn't say anything.

"He said he would prepare some game consoles, iced cola, barbecue grills, and things like that."

Dio turned his head to look at Bruce's profile.

"Of course, you can also invite Miss Selena to come along."

Seemingly sensing the amused gaze of the person beside him, Bruce turned his head away somewhat angrily.

"Is it fun? Hmm? Did you come to school just to mess with those people?"

"Teasing?"

Dior repeated the word, then shook his head.

"I'm just helping them face reality."

"And let me help you face reality too. Anger doesn't feel good, does it?"