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

In the alley of crime.

Dior stood on the wet street, looking up at a fire escape staircase not far away, lost in thought.

If someone had happened to be standing there at the time, would they have seen the whole thing?

Dio stared at the fire escape for a very long time.

until...

"Hey kid."

Harvey's voice came from behind, but Dio didn't turn around, letting the hand rest on his shoulder.

"No need."

Dio slapped his hand away, his tone calm and even.

"I am now living the life I wanted."

"Furthermore, the judge does not believe you are capable of supporting me, and you have too many girlfriends."

"yes."

Harvey thought of his girlfriend, who weighed over 300 pounds and worked in the archives, and a faint phantom pain shot through his neck.

There was a few seconds of silence.

"Do you remember Gotham's famous quote?" Harvey asked.

"Don't be a hero."

Dio finally turned his head and looked at his loved ones in front of him.

Harvey's beard had turned white, his eye bags drooped, and all the energy in his eyes had vanished.

This seems to be the ultimate fate of every righteous police officer in Gotham City.

"I remember it very clearly," Dio said.

"Yes, that's enough."

Harvey nodded, withdrew his hand, opened the car door, and took one last look at Dio before getting in.

That glance was very long.

Then he closed the door and drove away.

A righteous policeman? Will there be justice in Gotham?

Dior stared in that direction, his face showing obvious disgust for the first time.

Bruce emerged from the alley, carrying a file in his arms:

"Dio, didn't you say that Gotham's police are all untrustworthy?"

"They're all the same." Dio didn't look at him. "They take bribes, rob drug dealers, and act as protectors."

"Is Detective Harvey like that too?"

"He was a maverick who once thought of himself as a knight of light who stood up for others."

Dior looked at the car that was getting further and further away on the street, his voice laced with sarcasm:

"Like an idiot in a movie, this kind of person in Gotham will either die or..."

"What do you want?"

Dio finally turned his head and looked at Bruce.

Those eyes were calm, but Dio knew what was hidden within them.

It was something that, like him, had to be hidden and could not be exposed to the light.

"As I just said, he once thought of himself as a knight of light."

Bruce was silent for a few seconds.

"So he's nothing now? He's been changed?"

Dior did not answer.

"Okay, what's our next step? There are no more clues here."

"yes."

It rains frequently in Gotham, so no one preserves crime scenes, since crime scenes are everywhere here.

It's perfectly normal for someone to die on the street; soon, homeless people will steal all the valuables from the deceased.

Dio's brow furrowed. He remembered many versions of Batman, but the causes of his parents' deaths were different.

Sometimes it's Joe Gill, sometimes it's some nobody, and sometimes nobody even knows who it is.

But which version is it now? God knows!

It's even possible that, in the vast multiverse, every single day, a poor Batman loses his parents.

But none of that matters.

Importantly, the organization tasked him with monitoring Bruce, who was investigating his parents' deaths.

If these two things are unrelated, that would be too much of a coincidence.

Dior narrowed his eyes slightly.

He had a feeling that if he dug deeper, he would soon find the contact person.

Just as Dio was pondering how to find another way to break through the blockade by the police and gangsters in order to find clues, a voice suddenly came from the fog.

"Hello, gentlemen, is there anything you need?"

"I have delicious lemonade here, and it's economical and affordable."

Dio turned his head in surprise.

A stall made from an old wooden crate, with a street kid of about fifteen or sixteen standing behind it.

The stall was filled with lemonade, old comic books, and handmade slingshots—all things nobody would buy.

Lemonade? In Crime Alley? Are you kidding me?

Dio looked him up and down, his suspicion no longer concealed.

Because in Gotham, anyone who calls out to you always has their own agenda.

Dior sized up the street kid's attire; his clothes were worn but clean, and he had that deliberately mysterious smile...

Did he escape from Arkham? Was he a mental patient? Or...?

"Don't hesitate any longer, it's exactly what you want."

Upon hearing this, Dior and Bruce exchanged a glance and walked over together.

There's only one person on the other side, but there are two of us! What's there to be afraid of!

Seeing the two approaching, the street urchin immediately stepped forward and whispered furtively:

"I heard everything. You're also asking about that incident from a while ago, right?"

"Don't make that face yet. This is exclusive information; nobody else knows this, I promise."

Damn Harvey! He's got such a loud voice!

Dio snorted and looked at Bruce.

"So, you were here that day?" Bruce stared at him. "You witnessed everything?"

Upon hearing this, the street kid stopped talking and instead reached out his hand to the two of them, his meaning quite clear.

I need money!

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Dio asked.

"How can you be sure I'm telling the truth if you don't pay me?"

"Hey, that makes sense, give him the money."

Dior nodded as a matter of course, only to find that the latter, unusually, did not respond.

He turned his head to look.

Wait a minute? Is that embarrassment?

Bruce Wayne looked embarrassed? Or was it about the money?

A bad feeling crept into my mind.

Dio stared wide-eyed at Bruce with disbelief.

No way? Are you kidding me?

Meeting Dior's questioning gaze, Bruce nodded with a hint of shame and even a heavy heart.

"Okay, we need to discuss this."

Without a word, Dio grabbed Bruce's arm, and the two took a few steps and began to talk in hushed tones.

"Seriously? You didn't bring any money?"

"Alfred usually pays in these situations; I never carry any money with me!"

"But we have to accept his offer! If we don't, someone else will!"

"Okay, the watch on my wrist is probably worth $2000, but I'm not sure if it'll satisfy his appetite!"

"After all, this is just one; there are many more to come." Bruce glanced at the street kid who was laughing happily, quite certain of it.

Dior nodded, understanding. After all, with the butler paying, who would carry the money themselves?

"So you're going to try and bargain? Have you ever bargained before?"

"I can give it a try."

Bruce, with a confident expression, took off his watch and walked straight toward the street kid.

"You've reached an agreement? Okay, I just want..."

"I'll give you a watch worth two thousand."

Snapped.

Dior covered his face tightly.

You're a real bargaining master, Bruce.

"ah??"

The street kid stood there, stunned, blinking, even wondering if he was dreaming.

"Yes, I'll give you a watch worth two thousand, but..."

You have to tell me the truth.

Bruce looked extremely confident, and the way he spent money like water was incredibly cool.

"Okay, it's a deal."

The street urchin took the watch, hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke:

"Even though I wasn't here that day, I know who was."

"Who is it?"

Dior stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the street kid.

"Kitty, that's what we all call her. She stole a wallet about two blocks from here."

"After stealing..." the street urchin shrugged, "judging by the time, she should have run here."

"You mean, this is her escape route?"

Dio paused, then instinctively looked up at the fire escape staircase above him.

Someone actually witnessed the whole thing.

The killer's appearance, the killer's face, the direction the killer left in!

"So, she was here all along! She witnessed everything!"

Dio stared at the street kid, and after confirming that he wasn't lying, he clenched his fist!

marvelous

I need to find her!

I have to find her!