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

"You seem to know something, Dior?"

Bruce looked over thoughtfully and said in a deep voice.

"Yes, I need to go and check if what I'm thinking is correct."

Dior stood up cleanly and deftly, waving the flip phone in front of the three of them.

Now he doesn't make phone calls in secret anymore; everyone knows it's an open secret anyway.

Sometimes, when he was giving a daily report, Alfred would come in and pour him tea.

"Be careful, young master Dior."

Alfred looked somewhat worried.

"Hmph, it's nothing."

Dior waved his hand and walked out of the living room.

As he walked, he pulled out the unmarked number and dialed it.

The phone rang three times before being answered.

"Dio".

The voice coming from the other end, processed with a voice changer, still didn't reveal the age.

"Making a call at this time is not your style."

"I just wanted to give you an update on my recent situation."

Dior leaned against the corridor wall, his tone casual, and began to probe.

"Bruce is currently investigating someone."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Who?"

"Karen Jennings".

Dior deliberately slowed down his speech, taking the opportunity to observe the other person's reaction.

Another silence followed.

".....knew."

The contact woman's voice remained unchanged, but Dior detected a hint of tension.

"Anything else?"

Dior's lips curled up slightly.

Sure enough, the Owl Court was also interested in the name Karen.

After all, she was one of the few successful cases ten years ago when the technology was not mature.

"And also—"

Dior then changed the subject, his tone now carrying just the right amount of concern.

"Has your cold still not gotten better after all this time? You always sound a little weak when we talk on the phone."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

When faced with a difficult question, they fall silent.

Dior looked disdainful and kept hiding; no wonder he was so afraid of death.

Three seconds later.

"Don't worry about it."

The contact woman's voice turned several degrees colder.

"Since you've taken the initiative to call, there's something I need you to do."

Dio narrowed his eyes: "Please speak."

"You still have that slow-acting poison, don't you?"

Dior's pupils contracted slightly, and his breathing became erratic for a moment.

That slow-acting poison was purchased a year ago by his father through a mysterious merchant, when the father was still alive.

It is colorless and odorless. Ingesting even small amounts will only cause lethargy and decreased physical strength. Only long-term accumulation will damage internal organs.

After this incident, the Owl Court began tentatively contacting him, and only established contact a few months ago.

Could it be that……

Dior quickly composed himself and said calmly:

"I still have some."

"Give some to Bruce Wayne."

The contact woman spoke in a flat tone, without the slightest fluctuation.

Dior frowned slightly, then quickly relaxed, a hint of amusement in his expression:

"Are you planning to let me inherit the Wayne family business?"

"How is that possible?"

A soft chuckle came from the other end of the phone, seemingly mocking his overestimation of his abilities.

"We are not prepared for the impact of public opinion; the upper class has already begun to spread rumors."

"The news that Wayne's adopted son is plotting to murder the heir is bad for us, and this script is too ugly."

"Give him a little dose to calm him down and stop him from investigating things he shouldn't be investigating. If he continues, the police will investigate your father's cause of death, understand?"

"I understand." The call ended.

"Threatening me?"

Dior glanced at the screen, chuckled, and put his phone in his pocket.

The more anxious you are, the more likely I am to be right.

He's been reading constantly lately, especially psychology books.

The contact woman's behavior is called a psychological defense mechanism in psychology.

"Looks like I really hit a nerve with her, that old woman."

Just then, my phone rang again, the one I had just put in my pocket.

Dior, annoyed at being interrupted, answered the phone anyway.

"What? Peter's been arrested? How is that possible?"

He remembered giving Harvey a lot of money to bribe officials, so how could he still be arrested?

Peter has nothing to offer, so what would they want from him?

Is he poor?

Or is it because you're after his butt?

"I can't get involved over there."

Harvey's voice was very low.

"The other party bypassed the branch office directly when issuing the order, and I can't even find out who signed it."

"You need to find a lawyer quickly, otherwise you'll be in trouble if you get into Blackgate Prison, which is Falcone's territory."

"Black Gate Prison?" Dio's eyes narrowed slightly. "I understand."

"Harvey, please contact a lawyer for me, the one with the same name as you, Dante."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone before the person finally agreed.

Dio hung up the phone, stood by the window, and looked at the gray sky over Gotham with an unreadable expression.

What a coincidence!

But he knew there was no use in rushing things; Harvey couldn't do anything about Peter's situation, so he could only wait for the lawyer.

We can't exactly hijack the prison van, can we?

In the end, Dior chose to suppress his frustration and pushed open the door to his study.

He planned to go and collect the reward first.

In the study, Dio held a Bible from the Order of Saint Dumas, but his attention was entirely focused on the control panel.

[Points: 3280, one lottery draw for the substitute]

Three thousand points can do a lot of things, so he decided to use the substitute lottery first.

Let's see if we can draw a powerful Stand, then strengthen it to increase our strength.

Dior washed his face, placed the Buddha statue he had bought from Chinatown on the table, and took a deep breath.

Jesus bless, please don't let it be a cheap trick!!

Don't!

After praying, Dio had a thought!

Let's draw!

The wheel of substitutes began to spin, and after being pulled by fate, the pointer stopped on a substitute.

It has insect compound eyes as pure as gemstones, a golden body, and a lifelike little wing on each shoulder, with a slender and elegant figure.

It's the Stand—Gold Experience!

"Gold Experience?"

Dio never expected that he would draw Giorno Giovanna's Stand.

Is this fate?

[Golden Experience]

Destructive power: C

Speed: A

Range: C

Endurance: D

Precision: C

Growth potential: A

Ability: Can bring inanimate objects to life through punches or touches, transforming them into beings with biological characteristics.

Destructive power, range, sustained firepower, and precision are its weaknesses.

Looking at the panel, Dior made his choice after only a moment's hesitation.

The three enhancements respectively improve endurance and range.

Points quickly disappeared, and moments later, the Gold Experience panel changed.

Duration D→C-.

Range C→C+.

Strength C is more than enough; the main issues are stamina and the short range of close-range Stand attacks.

Dio gazed at the shimmering golden stand-in before him, a slow smile playing on his lips.

He touched the three black moles on his ears:

"Gioruno Giovanna... Fate is such a cruel joker."

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

Indian Hills.

"Doctor, someone from Wayne Enterprises has investigated Karen Jennings."

Hugo raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked at Ms. Peabody with considerable astonishment.

Do you think she's been found?

"Yes, although we haven't found her yet, someone must have gotten there first."

"She was our first patient."

A hint of seriousness flashed across Hugo's feigned compassionate face, but he quickly regained his composure.

He turned to look at the incubation chamber, his eyes dark and gloomy.

"A starting point with countless possibilities, so promising, what a pity."

"Let number 34 and number 38 go."

Peabody looked at Dr. Hugo in disbelief and asked:

"Numbers 34 and 38? Are they a crocodile and a frog? Are you sure?"

Hugo didn't answer, but instead held Karen's photo with a regretful expression and lowered his head.

"What a pity."