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

The roller shutter door of the Owen Electronics store was half-closed, and the inside was dimly lit.

It's supposed to be a specialty store for selling electronics, but it looks dilapidated and like it can't even afford to pay its electricity bill.

"What the hell is this smell? Is it barbecue inside? Fuck!"

The homeless man passing by adjusted the collar of his coat, frowned, and quickly walked past the gate.

Inside the store, shelves were overturned and electronic components were scattered all over the floor.

In the innermost corner, on a dilapidated iron-framed bed, the shop owner, Owen, had his limbs tightly bound with leather belts and a rag stuffed in his mouth.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh!!!!"

He struggled incessantly, his eyes reflecting the demonic figure.

"Mr. Irving."

The voice was slow and strange, like that of an actor in a Broadway musical.

The person speaking stood by the bed, nearly 1.9 meters tall, with a long, thin neck, round-framed black glasses perched on his nose, and a very eerie smile.

Irving stared at the pervert in the black leather jacket in front of him and struggled even more fiercely.

Jack Buczynski, the electrocutioner, leaned slightly closer to Irving's face, the copper discharge device in his hand crackling.

"The days in Arkham gave me freedom."

He lightly touched his temples with both hands, feeling the tingling electric current, and looked quite comfortable.

"I mean, freedom of thought!!! I've come to understand the world!!!"

"The whole world is a broken-down machine factory, but don't worry, Irving, I'll fix it."

"Of course, only the majority."

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle.

The blue arc light on the discharge device grew brighter and brighter, and the crackling sounds became more and more frequent, illuminating the dimly lit room.

A subordinate removed the rag from Owen's mouth.

"Please! I beg you! Let me go!!!"

Irving shouted loudly.

"Shh!"

The man being electrocuted raised a finger, his eyes filled with threat:

"Now repeat after me: I will not betray my friends."

A flash of blue light.

"I don't... Ahh ...

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

The sound of the Kawasaki Ninja 400 engine faded away at the street corner.

Dior took off his helmet, hung it on the handlebars, and glanced at the Irving Electronics store not far away.

A pungent smell of burnt wires immediately filled my nostrils.

"Looks like this is the place."

The spider senses did not produce a very strong stinging sensation.

Dior frowned, bent down and slipped under the roller shutter, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light.

His most frequently used revolver was already firmly gripped in his right hand, and a Batman-made smoke grenade was hanging from his waist.

The shelves inside the store were askew, and a chubby man in a green knit sweater stood there with a whiteboard in front of him.

He lowered his head, holding a marker in his right hand, writing something stroke by stroke.

Dior approached silently, carefully avoiding any objects on the ground that might make a sound.

The whiteboard was covered with the same sentence.

"I will not betray my friends, I will not betray my friends, I will not betray my friends, I will not betray my friends..."

Betrayal of a friend? Just like I remember, the man who was electrocuted was imprisoned because he was betrayed by his friend.

Dior bypassed the fat man who smelled strange and scanned the depths of the shop.

There was a half-open iron door, and a faint buzzing sound could be heard from inside. At the same time, the spider senses also sent a slight stinging sensation through them.

He walked over, placed his hand on the doorknob, and gently pushed it open.

Behind the door was a small warehouse.

The shelves were pushed against the wall, making room for the shelves.

A man, 1.9 meters tall, stood in the center of the open space. He was wearing a black insulating leather jacket and carrying an electrical box and a copper discharge device on his back.

Electric torture.

He seemed to hear the door open, paused, and slowly raised his head.

The two people looked at each other.

Dior stood with his hands in his pockets, a slight smile playing on his lips. The smile was handsome, but there was no warmth in his eyes.

The man being electrocuted narrowed his eyes.

He looked the blond boy up and down.

An expensive yellow jacket, refined features, and an innate sense of superiority.

"Little one, you seem unusual. What's your name?"

"Dio Brando".

The man being electrocuted twitched his eyebrows slightly.

Give your real name? Interesting.

"You have guts."

He adjusted his glasses, his smile deepening.

"However, people who are too daring usually die quickly."

Dior did not respond.

He turned his head, his gaze passing over the shoulder of the person being electrocuted, and landing on the iron-framed bed in the corner.

The bed was empty except for a few loose belts, but the lingering smell of burning in the air and the words on Irving's whiteboard were enough for him to piece together the whole story.

That's enough with the greetings.

Dior straightened up, grasped the doorknob, and made a gesture as if to close the door.

His gaze swept across the warehouse, where four burly men in black stood, their muscles bulging and their eyes vacant.

It's like four machines; is this what electrical brainwashing is?

I definitely made the right choice!

"Is anyone else going out now?"

No one answered, and Dio slammed the door shut!

The electrician sneered and gave a wink to a burly man beside him.

The burly man disappeared silently behind the shelves, preparing to flank them.

The other three slowly surrounded them as well.

Dio's spider senses began to sting.

"Sex Pistols!"

The next second, he raised his gun and pointed the muzzle at the man being electrocuted between the eyebrows.

The person being electrocuted simultaneously raised their hand.

A flash of blue light.

An electric current was ejected from the discharge device in the palm of the hand.

An electric current was emitted? Is that scientifically possible?

Dio's pupils contracted, and he quickly dodged to the side, his spider-like senses making him a step faster than electricity.

But the pistol was made of metal, and the current, once attracted, shot up the gun barrel directly to his right hand.

A piercing numbness shot through my fingertips, and the revolver slipped from my hand.

Dio looked down at his slightly trembling right hand, frowned for a moment, then quickly relaxed.

"Metals conduct electricity, middle school physics."

The man who had been electrocuted withdrew his hand, a hint of pity in his smile.

"Little friend, you should read more books."

"But it doesn't matter. Let me think about what I should make you into later."

"How about we call him Frog Man? You'll imagine there's a frog inside your stomach, croaking all over you, hahaha!"

"Yeah?"

Dio pulled a round metal ball from behind his waist with his left hand; it was a smoke bomb specially made for Batman.

"Your current talisman is the knowledge in your mind."

"But in a moment, I'll make you look at me with the same despair as a rat drowning in a cesspool."

Pressing the button with my thumb, a gust of wind came from behind, and a burly man opened his arms and gave me a bear hug.

Dior bent down and squatted, using his height advantage to nimbly dodge.

The smoke grenade exploded.

Thick white fog instantly engulfed the entire warehouse.

Visibility was less than half a meter; you couldn't even see the shelves that were right next to you.

A series of wails rang out.

Although Dio lost his sight in the fog, his spider senses became his eyes.

Every strong man's position and movement transformed into a faint stinging sensation, creeping up his spine.

He sidestepped a wildly swung fist and slammed his right elbow into the other man's temple.

A silver chariot briefly appeared behind him, and the hilt of a sword struck the back of another burly man's neck with a dull thud.

One, two, three, four.

In less than ten seconds, all four burly men in black, whose strength had been enhanced to the limits of ordinary people by electric current, were knocked to the ground.

Dio emerged from the mist and gently shook his right hand, which had regained sensation.

Damn it!

The person being electrocuted covered their mouth and nose and backed away, a layer of white fog covering their round-framed glasses, and said in despair:

"You—what did you do? What is this smoke—"

"I think I smell it, the smell of annoyance."

Dio interrupted him, licking his lips and giving him a sweet yet venomous smile.

"Mmm...it's wonderful, isn't it?"

The sound of wind breaking rang out.

The silver-white knight pointed his rapier at the electric monster in the black leather bodysuit opposite him.

(The showdown is next Tuesday, brothers, please be sure to read on! I'm begging you!)