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

Arkham Asylum, Indian Hill Underground Laboratory.

The lights were stark white, the corridor was white, and the air was thick with the smell of disinfectant.

Dr. Hugo Strange stood in front of a transparent cryogenic chamber, his cold eyes behind red-rimmed glasses.

Inside the freezer, rows of cylindrical culture tanks were neatly arranged, with various shapes suspended in the pale green nutrient solution.

Some had six arms, some had unnatural bluish-purple skin, and some were not even human-shaped.

"interesting."

Hugo murmured to himself, a slow smile curving his lips, his eyes filled with kindness.

"It's so interesting that someone is investigating me."

He turned around and looked at the silent Black woman behind him:

"Who is that brave young man, Ms. Peabody?"

Ms. Peabody stood in the shadows, dressed in a sharp black women's suit, her hair neatly styled in a bun.

"Peter Parker, a flea market guy, sixteen years old, with a prior theft record."

Her voice was flat, but the murderous intent in her words was undisguised.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

No, of course not.

Hugo shook his head, his smile still kind, even tinged with a hint of regret.

"It's such a pity that such a brave person died like this."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a sound of glass being struck came from deep within the freezer.

He turned his head and looked at the third to last culture tank, where the contents were frantically pounding against the glass wall.

"Oh? Number 35 is awake."

Hugo walked over and smiled kindly.

"Don't rush, it's not time for you to leave the warehouse yet."

The contents of the culture tank were knocked even harder, and the entire tank was vibrating.

Peabody instinctively took a half step back.

Hugo simply tapped the glass gently, reassuringly saying:

"Quiet, quiet, you don't want to become a failure, do you?"

After a while.

"He should join us."

Hugo's voice lowered, carrying a fervent quality, yet his eyes remained utterly cold.

"To be part of helping humanity break free from the shackles of death, what do you say, Ms. Peabody?"

Peabody did not answer.

Her gaze fell on the four-finger hand, and after a moment of silence, she spoke, her tone still icy:

"Doctor, with the technology of the electrocutioner, we are one step closer to our goal, but so far—we have failed forty-four times."

Forty-four times.

Hugo's smile remained unchanged, but his eyes darkened for a moment.

"So what? Failure is the best teacher, Ms. Peabody. We are getting closer and closer to success."

"As for that little guy hiding behind the scenes... Dio Brando, no rush, we have plenty of time."

"Let's first greet Director Luo. He owes us more than one favor. Let that brave boy stay under our 'protection'."

Dr. Hugo laughed wildly, "I have a feeling he will be our best test subject."

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

At the flea market, Dior introduced the two to each other.

"Selena, this is Peter. Peter, this is Selena."

"Hello, handsome young man."

Selena looked Peter up and down, a playful smile playing on her lips.

"You too, miss."

Peter gave a dry reply, but his eyes kept glancing at Selena with obvious wariness.

"She's the helper I found," Dio explained.

Peter frowned. "An accomplice? Is she reliable?"

Selena's smile turned cold: "More reliable than you, you little lackey."

"What did you say?"

I said---

Selena took a step forward, forcing Peter to take half a step back.

"When I was stealing in the East District, you were still wearing open-crotch pants."

"Enough, shut up!"

Dio, his face grim, stopped the two, then took out a sophisticated device from his pocket.

"Do you remember what I promised you? It's this."

Peter looked down—it was a round, blue and red device with a button in the middle and an LED light to indicate the battery level.

"This, this is..."

He vaguely guessed what was going on, and his voice trembled slightly.

"The one I'm thinking of?"

"Spider web launcher".

Dio shoved the first-generation launcher into Peter's hand and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't get excited, let's get down to business."

Peter held the launcher, his eyes practically glued to it, but he suppressed his excitement and listened as Dio continued.

"Be careful these days, and it's best not to investigate Hugo anymore."

Peter paused for a moment, and was about to retort, but Dio had already continued speaking.

"What did you find by investigating Theo Gallup?"

Dior felt like he'd heard the name somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it, so he asked Peter to look it up.

Peter took a deep breath, carefully put the transmitter into his pocket, and then spoke:

"Found it. There are dozens of people with the surname Gallagher across Europe, and a few in Gotham, but in total there are only a few hundred."

"There is no family in the world with the surname Galervin, nor is there any record of this family having a deep-rooted wealth."

Dior frowned slightly.

They were not from a prominent family, nor did they have a foundation of wealth.

How did Theo Geller manage to rise to the position of Chairman of Development at the Gotham Chamber of Commerce?

How can someone possess assets worth hundreds of millions?

This is wealth that cannot be obtained through one's own hard work.

Every penny in Gotham is stained with blood, and behind every building stands a ruthless family that devours people without spitting out the bones.

Dior recalled Theo Gallagher's appearance on television: impeccably dressed, with a polite smile, and speaking with perfect tact.

He was just like those Wayne Group executives who shook hands with him at the banquet; they were all polite, but none of them were good people.

"unless...."

Dio muttered to himself, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

"Is his money not his own, or did he change his surname?"

"What?" Peter didn't hear clearly.

"It's nothing."

Dior shook his head, suppressing his thoughts.

A tycoon who appears out of nowhere must have some powerful force behind him.

The Court of Owls? Or some other organization? But they're definitely up to no good.

"Keep an eye on Theo Gallerwin, but don't get too close; only check publicly available information."

Dio paused, then looked at Peter.

"Stop completely with Hugo. He probably already knows about what you found out about him."

Peter's face paled for a moment.

Selena stood to the side, arms crossed, her gaze sweeping back and forth between the two, before finally speaking up:

"You're talking about Hugo Strange? I know a little about him."

She looked at Dior:

"Do you remember the time I was kidnapped? It was the case of the missing homeless children. He was working as a psychologist in the northern part of the state at the time."

"Wait? Selena, you mean...?" Dio's pupils contracted.

If that's the case, then the size of Indian Mountain is enormous.

The project continued several months after Thomas Wayne's death, and it resumed even after it had been halted.

There's a lot more to this than meets the eye.

What exactly does the Court of Owls want to do?

Dior now discovers that this seemingly simple third phase of the task is actually the most difficult.

Obtaining DNA implantation technology is easy, but how you survive after you get it is the most important thing.

The first two stages of the mission were mainly about solving cases, but the third stage of the mission suddenly became much more difficult.

"The plan is on hold for now, don't rush it."

As soon as Dior finished speaking, a dirty-looking street kid squeezed through the crowd, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

He shoved the card into Dio's hand and ran off without saying a word.

Dior looked down.

It was an expired circus ticket, with a line of text written on the back in crooked handwriting:

"Hey smart Wayne kid, if you don't come, the consequences will be severe. See you at the Gotham Police Department. Don't tell anyone else."

Circus tickets, a crazy, nonsensical tone, and the location is the Gotham Police Department? There are serious consequences if you don't come?

His eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze growing increasingly cold.

Why would anyone notice him, this adopted son?

Logically, no one should have noticed.

Would anyone really care about an adopted son who is not yet an adult and has no right to inherit?

"Was that an invitation? Who gave it to you?" Selena asked.

Upon hearing this, Dior did not answer directly, but suddenly asked:

We started running at the same time, but only one of us was destined to reach the finish line first. I am not your shadow, yet you are always by my side. So, what am I?

Selena was taken aback: "Huh? What?"

Dior folded the ticket, stuffed it into his pocket, and a dangerous smile slowly crept onto his lips as he said in a deep voice:

"Competitors."