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

After returning home,

Alfred took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, then turned and went into the kitchen.

He tied on an apron, opened the refrigerator, and rummaged through the ingredients inside by the light.

"There are quite a lot of ingredients."

He nodded in satisfaction, strode into the living room, and asked the two of them.

"Young Master Dior, Young Master Bruce, what would you like to eat tonight?"

"Grilled chicken breast and avocado salad."

Bruce sat on the living room sofa, opened a physics book, and didn't even look up.

"Foie gras, figs, and a cream of mushroom soup, please."

Dior folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table, then leaned back in his chair, looking languid.

But both of them were keeping an eye on Alfred's movements.

The sharp claws in the cold storage haven't been dealt with yet!

Alfred nodded, a long-lost smile playing on his lips.

During his hospital stay, he missed the separate kitchen terribly.

I miss the sound of the spatula hitting the wok, the aroma of butter wafting from the oven, and the two boys sitting at the table, one elegant and the other quiet, eating the food he cooked.

Perhaps this is what it means to feel like you've lived through another world.

"Okay. It will take about forty minutes."

Alfred's lips curled slightly as he turned and walked into the kitchen, his footsteps fading into the distance down the hallway.

Patiently waiting for the footsteps to fade away, Dio and Bruce exchanged a glance. There was no conversation, just a look; their tacit understanding over the past few days required no further words.

it's time.

Proceed according to plan.

The two nodded silently, put down what they were holding, and rushed into the study like arrows, locking the door behind them.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

Dior lowered his voice, opened his desk drawer, and stuffed stacks of documents into a briefcase he had prepared beforehand.

Those are records of Wayne Group’s illegal activities collected over the past few months, the formula for Vizan’s venomous snake potion, and some documents decoded from Thomas Wayne’s computer.

Alfred must not see any of these things, or he will go crazy.

The clock in the living room ticked away, and time seemed to slow down.

Bruce quickly brushed away the dust on the floor, walked to the wall, and removed the chain of evidence that covered the wall.

Meanwhile, Dior had already stuffed the suitcase into a hidden compartment on the top shelf of the bookshelf, and then placed several thick medical books in front of it.

He glanced around the study, making sure all the suspicious items were hidden, before straightening up and adjusting his cuffs.

"alright."

The two quickly returned to the living room and waited quietly for a while.

Three minutes, four minutes, five minutes.

Then-----

"Oh my god!!!"

Alfred's exclamation came from the direction of the cold storage, his voice trembling with near collapse.

"OH! NO!!!"

"Go to the cold storage now."

Dior took the lead, and the two of them walked out of the study one after the other, quickly crossed the corridor, and headed towards the cold storage.

The cold storage door was wide open, and the chill crept up the floor. Luckily, the two of them had gotten used to it over the past few days, otherwise they might have really caught a cold.

Dio looked ahead.

At this moment, Alfred was standing in the center of the cold storage, with his back to the door.

In front of him was a huge freezer, the door open, and the old butler just stared blankly at the inside of the freezer without saying a word.

Dior paused for a moment at the door, took a deep breath, and then stepped inside.

Bruce followed behind him.

The cold storage is more than ten degrees colder than the outside temperature. This is to keep the food fresh. Of course, the claws lying inside are also fresh.

"Alfred."

Dior's voice, neither too loud nor too soft, was just enough to wake the old butler from his daze.

Alfred slowly turned around, his face showing an indescribable bewilderment.

That was the expression of someone whose worldview had been shattered and hadn't yet had time to piece it back together.

Simply put, he was stunned, completely stunned, and even started to have inappropriate thoughts.

"I've only neglected you for a few months, and you've already..."

His gaze swept over the strangely shaped machines in the room, and his expression turned troubled.

"Young Master Dior, torturing corpses is not a good hobby. You don't need to design these machines."

Alfred carefully considered his words, trying to persuade the two young masters in a tactful way without hurting their pride.

"While I'm glad you don't like to tormenting the living anymore, I think we should respect every dead person."

[Alfred, the butler, is so shocked by your evil that he is completely speechless. Points +100]

You're getting the wrong idea.

Dio glanced at Alfred's sullen expression, grabbed his hand, and walked over to Claw.

"You'll know once you touch it."

"Touch it? No, I don't want to touch it at all-----"

Before Alfred could finish refusing, his right hand was placed on the pulse of the claw.

Beneath the cool skin, an extremely faint pulse traveled to my fingertips.

"Waaaaaah....."

Alfred was completely dumbfounded.

A person was frozen in a freezer and still had a pulse?

Science no longer exists!

Physics no longer exists!

Medicine no longer exists!

This is fucking illogical!

He had been a housekeeper for half his life, and he had seen knife wounds, gunshot wounds, and explosion wounds. He had also seen people die in front of him and then be brought back to life.

But I've never seen anyone frozen in a freezer and still alive.

Could it be that humans secretly evolved while he was hospitalized?

"As you can see, he is indeed still alive."

Dior withdrew his hand and wiped the chill from his fingertips on his trouser leg.

"Strictly speaking, he was in a state of hibernation, with his body temperature dropping below ten degrees Celsius and his metabolism almost stopping, but his vital signs were still present."

"By the way, he's an assassin. He was the one who broke into the manor that night a few months ago."

"I fought with him and shot him in the head, but he didn't die, and the wound healed."

"That's right."

Bruce nodded in agreement, testifying to Dio's words.

Alfred opened his mouth, his lips trembling slightly.

Such an outrageous thing is really too shocking for someone who is almost fifty years old.

"Oh my god... what's wrong with this world? For a moment just now, I even thought about quitting my job."

"He seems to have recovered," Alfred joked.

Bruce looked at him and gently shook his head:

"If you leave, who will cook for us? I never want to eat stewed beef with vegetables again in my life."

"Bruce is right, I don't want to eat anymore either."

Dio stepped forward and patted Alfred's arm.

"As the butler, you need to quickly accept all of this."

After saying that, he walked out of the cold storage and made a phone call.

"Harvey, it's me, Dio."

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

The Gotham Police Department was filled with laughter and cheers.

For the first time ever, all the police officers were not out on patrol or investigating cases.

This is unusual, but if you focus your attention on the person in the very center, it doesn't seem so unusual anymore.

Protective custody.

This is a special clause established by the police to protect witnesses who may face retaliation.

Today, this clause applies to Salvatore Maroni.

Today, he is not only the boss of the Maroney family, but also the target of the Electrocutor.

"You guys seem to really enjoy hearing jokes."

Maroni held a cup of coffee with double the sugar, and all eyes in the police station were on him.

"Ha ha ha ha."

When he smiled, almost all the police officers had to laugh along with him, even if they didn't understand the Italian jokes.

"How do you guys have fun here? Okay, okay, remember that joke?"

"Two policemen followed the funeral director onto a fishing boat, hahahahahahahahaha!"

"Hahahahahahahahahaha." The other police officers quickly smiled ingratiatingly.

Not far away, Harvey and Gordon stood with their arms crossed, watching coldly.

"If you're using a sheep as bait, shouldn't you let it out into the forest?"

Harvey's implication was that he wanted to leave Maroni out in the open, leaving his fate to chance.

Just then, the phone rang.

Harvey took out his phone and glanced at it, then immediately felt a headache coming on.

"Ah, it's that kid Dior. I'll go answer this call."