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

"Are you threatening me, Dior? Someone from the East End—"

"I'm negotiating, ma'am."

Dior interrupted her without hesitation, his face instantly darkening.

The surrounding claws seemed to sense some kind of pressure, and they all took a step back, their bodies tense, staring at him warily.

But Dio ignored them, not even bothering to look at them, his tone indifferent:

"Look, I've kept an eye on Bruce for you, and I've dealt with the Wayne family for you. I've done so much, but you haven't given me anything in return."

"That's not fair, is it?"

He lifted his foot and stepped on the metal box of the electric torturer, grinding it lightly.

"I'll take this technology; consider it the first debt you owe me."

"You have no right to negotiate with me. If I want, I can send you to prison anytime."

"Don't forget how your father died, and who paid for your mother's burial!"

"Things are different now."

Dior's voice deepened, becoming so quiet that only two people could hear it.

"One of the claws you sent has become a vegetable and is frozen in a cold storage."

"The four of them standing over there didn't move an inch, but do you think they could hold out for more than a few seconds if they did move?"

Do you still think of me as the little boy you used to be, someone you could manipulate at will?

silence.

A silence longer than before.

What do you want?

The contact woman finally spoke, her voice carrying a hint of anger, but also a hint of compromise.

Dior could tell; after all, compromise was one of the favorite tricks of the upper class.

"I told you, this technology."

Dio crouched down to examine the electrocution device and stated his conditions:

"Also, I'd like to know, what has Vizan Pharmaceuticals been up to lately?"

"How did you know—" the contact woman asked in astonishment.

"Don't ask me how I know."

Dior interrupted her, his tone tinged with impatience.

"You said I'm a smart kid, so it's normal that I know some things I shouldn't know."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

The contact woman managed to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth:

"Vizan Pharmaceuticals is about to go public."

Dior's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Going public? They want to break free from Wayne Enterprises' control?"

"You don't need to know too much, just know that this is an opportunity, and if you're smart, you can reap considerable benefits from it."

Dior smiled, a very subtle smile.

"You've reaped quite a bit of benefits, haven't you?"

Getting the benefits isn't enough; you're underestimating me.

He quickly lowered his head, a shadow falling above him, obscuring the excitement in his eyes.

Going public, simply put, is when a company puts its shares on the market for sale.

Previously, Vezan Pharmaceuticals was held hostage by the Wayne Enterprises, with the lion's share of the profits going to the group, and decisions had to be made according to the group's wishes.

Once listed on the stock exchange, the shares are distributed, and whoever pays to buy them becomes a shareholder.

Whoever buys the most gets the final say.

The Wayne family has no shortage of money.

Dior tapped the edge of his phone lightly with the ring finger of his left hand.

Over the past few months, he has figured out the Wayne family's asset structure.

He discovered that the Wayne family had many trust funds and charitable foundations.

Over the years, Wayne Group’s assets have been dispersed across dozens of different accounts through various legal channels.

They usually lie quietly, like hibernating snakes, motionless.

But with just a gentle poke, they would wake up, open their mouths, and swallow Vizan Pharmaceuticals' shares one bite at a time.

At that time, the board of directors of Vezan Pharmaceuticals will no longer be filled with puppets of the Court of Owls, but with his own people, Dio Brando's men.

Dior took a deep breath, suppressing the excitement in his eyes, and put the phone back to his ear.

"Thank you, Ms. Contact Person. I knew you still cared about me."

Seeing that the atmosphere had eased a bit, the four claws relaxed their tense stance, but their eyes remained extremely wary.

Don't get too cocky.

The contact woman's voice turned cold.

"We located that claw a long time ago, but I didn't expect you to not move it."

Dior did not deny it, nor did he show any surprise.

"Yes, he's right here with me, sleeping soundly."

"Hand him over."

"Hand it over?"

Dio tilted his head.

"Are you sure? He's in a vegetative state right now, he doesn't even know his own name. What good will it do you to go back?"

"That's our business."

"Okay, I'll go back and ask him for his opinion."

Dio readily agreed, since he had no intention of keeping his promise anyway.

In Gotham, aren't agreements meant to be broken?

"We'll take over the Dior Electrocutor too."

Upon hearing this, Dio looked down at the electrocuted man on the ground, his face showing disgust:

"Let me finish dismantling it first."

"Dio, you still want to negotiate with me? Aren't you afraid we'll expose the truth?"

Tsk tsk tsk, what a feeble threat.

A hint of mockery flashed in his eyes.

"Maybe."

Dior switched the phone to his left hand and took a handkerchief out of his pocket with his right hand to wipe his fingers.

Goodbye, Ms. Contact Person.

He hung up the phone and tossed it back to the leader of the claws in the darkness.

"You can leave now. Tell that lady I'll contact her once everything is unpacked."

The four claws stood silently in place, not leaving without permission.

"Aren't you leaving yet?"

Dio tilted his head, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Are you waiting for me to treat you to a late-night snack?"

The claws noticed the chill in the tone and immediately took a step back, silently retreating into the shadows.

Dio bent down and began to disassemble the metal box on the back of the electrocutioner, while pondering something.

Songlin Farm.

He saw the name on the computer in the secret room.

It was put on the schedule on the day Thomas Wayne died.

Dior had initially speculated that this plan might be the real reason for the Wayne couple's deaths.

And today, the contact woman's reaction confirms this.

Dior looked at the panel and uploaded the chain of evidence he had collected one by one.

[Long-Term Mission: The Shadow of Crime Alley]

Phase Two: Find out the cause of the Wayne couple's deaths

【completed】

[Points +2000, Perfect Aja Redstone x1, Ripple Breathing Technique x1, Batman's Detective Vision]

Phase Three: The Owl's Feast

[Mission Brief: Project Indian Hill has begun. They're not content with manipulating the pieces; they want to reshape the entire chessboard. The homeless, the Arkham Patients, Gotham's missing persons are their targets. Next, the entire city.]

[Mission Objective: Infiltrate the Indian Mountains, obtain complete data on DNA implantation technology, and destroy the core experimental facility.]

[Reward: Unknown]

[PS: They thought they were hosting a grand feast, but little did they know there was an extra guest at the table.]

Indian Mountain Project? Never heard of it.

Forget it, let's look at something else first.

next second.

A flawless red gemstone with a faint cross symbol at its center appeared in Dior's hand.

"The perfect Aja Redstone?"

Dio held the Aja red stone and examined it carefully.

"So the reward for the next stage is the Stone Mask?"

"If the ultimate life form possesses the DNA of the entire Earth, then could we create one artificially using DNA implantation technology?"

He murmured, glancing at the remaining two rewards.

【Ripple Breathing Method】

[An ancient technique that stimulates life energy through a special breathing rhythm]

Cultivators can strengthen their bodies, heal wounds, slow down aging, and even inflict fatal damage on certain sunlight-sensitive creatures.

[PS: Ripple? Ugh, just as annoying as that pesky Jonathan Joestar!]

[Batman's Detective Perspective]

[The insightful patterns Bruce Wayne from a parallel universe gleaned from countless encounters with the Court of Owls]

[Ability: Quickly scans the environment for unusual traces, hidden clues, and the enemy's fatal weaknesses]

[PS: It's not a superpower, but it's something far more terrifying than a superpower.]

Dior sighed and thought:

Ms. Contact Person, every time you show up, you threaten me first, then give in, and finally let me get away with it for free.

He touched the three black moles on his ears that symbolized good fortune.

This is because the world chose me.

Wryyyyyyyyyyy!