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

"For the next performance, I would like to invite the distinguished Deputy Mayor."

Jerome completely took control of the situation with just two simple magic tricks.

"Please welcome Harrison Kane."

applause.

All eyes turned to Deputy Mayor Harrison, who was sitting in a chair.

Dior also applauded sincerely.

After all, the more exciting the stage performance, the harder Gallup would fall, and he was happy to see that happen.

"Thanks."

Harrison stood up triumphantly.

He has been the mayor since the mayor disappeared.

He knew the banquet was a publicity stunt, but he still accepted it without hesitation.

Why?

Because he's shameless!

Harrison loosely grasped Barbara's hand and walked step by step onto the stage.

The applause then subsided.

Jerome walked expressionlessly to a table covered with a black cloth and forcefully lifted it!

The black cloth was flung away, revealing the sharp throwing knife underneath.

Dior narrowed his eyes, and his smile immediately became subtle.

It's important to know that the throwing knives in ordinary magic tricks all follow a set pattern.

Some are scalable, some have preset trajectories, and some only open the tip of the blade.

But today's throwing knives are all fully sharpened, gleaming coldly, perfectly balanced, and capable of easily taking lives.

"Today, no one can leave here."

Jerome spread his arms and grinned at the audience.

There was a moment of silence in the audience, followed by a few awkward laughs.

At this point, everyone thought it was just a line from a script, including Deputy Mayor Harrison on stage, who was also forcing a smile with his stern face.

"Ha ha ha ha--"

The next second, Jerome flicked his wrist, and a throwing knife flew out, accurately piercing the deputy mayor's neck.

puff!

"Haha—uh!!"

Harrison's eyes widened, his face contorted in pain as he clutched his neck and collapsed to the ground with a thud.

The laughter in the room vanished instantly.

Bruce's pupils contracted sharply, and all the color drained from his face.

Murder?

Murder!

"Finally, they've made their move?"

Dior's eyes flickered several times, and he subtly moved a little closer to Galerwin.

"ah--!!!"

The banquet hall erupted in chaos.

The next second, several men in black wielding submachine guns rushed out from all around and surrounded everyone.

Panic spread like a plague—chairs overturned, glasses shattered, and screams and roars mingled together.

"Young Master Bruce! Young Master Dior!"

Alfred tackled Bruce from behind and reached out to Dio.

"Let's go!"

Dior ignored him.

Alfred gritted his teeth, forcefully dragged the wide-eyed Bruce, and pulled him towards the door.

Bruce was dragged outside, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the cold smile on Dio's lips.

His heart sank – could it be that you orchestrated all of this?

Bruce struggled fiercely but couldn't break free, and could only watch helplessly as he was dragged away.

Have they finally left?

Unfortunately, you can only learn about Bruce from television.

Dio glanced indifferently at the backs of the old man and the young man, and silently shielded the adult in front of him.

It seems Galervin is about to make his heroic debut.

Dior calmly pondered to himself:

The more embarrassed Gallevin became, the more eager he was to salvage the situation.

But when a person is in a hurry, they are more likely to make mistakes.

At that time, I won't even need to lift a finger; he will expose the true nature of the St. Dumas Order on his own.

"Point all your cameras at me!"

Jerome screamed wildly; he had completely taken control of the situation.

"I'm going to let all of Gotham see me! Don't worry, I won't hurt you—at least not now. After all, the show's just getting started! Hahahaha!"

"That's enough!"

A loud shout silenced all other sounds.

"Stop your pathetic performance and get out of here!"

Gallagher stood up from the crowd, head held high, eyes blazing.

Facing the barrage of machine guns, he strode forward, his face filled with fearlessness.

At that moment, all eyes were on him, and hope ignited in pairs of fearful eyes.

Finally, someone stepped forward!

Gallagher felt the admiring gazes of those in the upper class and tried his best to suppress the upward curve of his lips.

No, I can't laugh yet, at least not now!

I want to show the greatness of the Gotham heroes!

At this moment, the cameras all turned away from Jerome's face and focused on Gellervin's imposing figure.

"Really?" Jerome raised an eyebrow, amused. "You're quite bold, aren't you?"

"That's because we've had enough of you! I may not represent all the people of Gotham, but..."

Gallagher took a deep breath, spoke righteously, and stepped forward—

Suddenly, he felt as if he had tripped over something.

The figure of the Golden Experience quietly disappeared into the air.

He instantly lost his balance and fell towards the center of the stage.

Gallagher's eyes widened, and the radiance on his face gradually turned into despair.

No!!!!

boom!

Just moments ago, Gallagher was shining brightly, but he suddenly collapsed at the edge of the stage, looking like a flattened frog, falling at Jerome's feet.

Jerome stared at Gallevan sprawled on the ground for a moment, then burst into ear-piercing laughter:

"Hahaha! You actually crawled to my feet like a dead dog? Hahahahahaha!"

A few suppressed laughs also came from the crowd.

Galervin scrambled to his feet, covered in dust, his face alternating between pale and flushed.

He wanted to say something, but after hearing those snickers, his lips trembled for a long time, but he couldn't utter a single word.

And today all of this—falling down, getting up, being embarrassed, and being ridiculous.

All of this was recorded by reporters' cameras and broadcast live to the entire city of Gotham.

"No...no! No, no!"

He meticulously planned for months, spent countless sums of money cultivating relationships, invited these high-society figures, and rehearsed countless times.

Today should have been the day he ascended to godhood, the starting point for him to become a hero of Gotham.

But now, it's all over.

The reporters' cameras didn't capture Jerome's atrocities; instead, they were all focused on him.

Those upper-class people didn't see his courage in standing up; they all mocked his pathetic state.

Gallagher clenched his fists, his nails digging into his flesh, and he breathed rapidly.

We can't give up! There's still a chance! There's still a chance!!!

But when he saw all the reporters' cameras pointed at his face, his last shred of hope shattered.

His face was frozen in a hopeless gray-brown.

Galerwin opened his mouth as if to say something, but no one cared about the clown today.

Dior stood in the corner, watching this scene, a slow smirk creeping onto his lips, followed by a cold laugh.

Compared to Jerome, you are the real clown at this moment.

You are Gotham's "nightmare".

But he did not let his guard down.

Gallevan is finished, but the guy hiding in the shadows hasn't shown up yet.

Let's calculate the time...

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck out of nowhere.

Dior's smile froze at the corner of his mouth.

The next second, bang bang bang bang!

Countless smoke bombs exploded in the banquet hall, and thick white smoke instantly engulfed everything.

A figure in red and white swept through the crowd and grabbed Dio's collar before he could react.

"What—"

Dio's pupils contracted slightly, but his body reacted faster than his mind.

A silver chariot appeared behind him, and a rapier thrust straight at the wrist that was gripping his collar.

However, the opponent seemed to have anticipated this, and with a flick of his wrist, a tremendous force struck—Dior was flung towards the window.

Click!

The window shattered, and two figures disappeared into the Gotham night, one after the other!