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

Early morning, Wayne Manor.

Alfred searched the entire estate thoroughly.

There is no study, no kitchen, and no garden.

Last night, young master Dior went missing. My informant said he was probably rescued.

As a result, Bruce also disappeared this morning.

Alfred stood in the middle of the corridor, took a deep breath, and looked up at the study at the end of the corridor.

That's the only place.

Countless times late at night, as he carried hot cocoa through this corridor, he could hear music leaking from under the door.

Who plays music in their study in the middle of the night?

Alfred pushed open the study door, found the remote control, and pressed the button.

Click.

The hidden door slid open silently.

The lights in the secret room came on, and a letter lay on the table with the words "To Alfred" written on the envelope.

Alfred unfolded the letter, which bore Bruce's earnest handwriting.

Alfred, I knew you would find this letter.

Don't worry, I'm going to be away from home for a while, living on the streets for a period of time.

Please calm down and let me finish.

You don't need to worry about me being in danger or going crazy.

My parents' case is about to be solved, but this will bring unexpected danger to you and Dio.

I can't involve you all; that would be too selfish.

This is a private matter for me, and I've thought about it for a very long time. You know, the choices I've made have almost always been correct.

After what's happened these past few days, I've realized that what I really want to understand is why there is murder and crime in this city.

I want to find a real way to fight it. So I'm going to Gotham.

"I must find a way to help the people of Gotham. Bruce—staying behind."

Alfred gripped the letter tightly, his breathing rapid.

He opened his mouth, but after a long pause, he could only manage to squeeze out one sentence:

"He's really crazy."

Just then, the phone in the study rang.

Alfred quickly answered the call.

"Hey? Master Dior? Is that you? Are you alright?"

"Yes, young master Bruce has run away from home."

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

Meanwhile, inside a safe house somewhere in Wayne's household.

"I understand, Alfred. I'll help you find him."

Dior hung up the phone, but a playful smile appeared on his face.

"This is going to be a non-stop grind."

but.....

It's good that Bruce left; at least it can divert the owls' attention.

As for finding someone? Selena still owes him a favor, so it's a good opportunity to have her run errands.

It doesn't matter if we can't find him; Bruce isn't that easy to kill.

Moreover, he himself still had a huge problem to solve.

"I have to go, Rachel."

"Was it something that happened very suddenly?"

Rachel stopped what she was doing, looking somewhat worried.

"Well, it's not a very important thing."

Dior nodded, picked up the keys from the table, and prepared to leave.

"Oh, right."

Only when he reached the door did he suddenly remember something, and turned back to add:

"Remember to use your abilities sparingly, and if you encounter someone named Bruce, run away immediately."

"understood."

Rachel nodded, and just as she opened the bedroom door, she suddenly pouted.

You almost got away with it.

She snorted, strode over, and smiled as she extended her hand to Dior.

Where are my tarot cards?

"I had forgotten about it if you hadn't mentioned it."

Dio seemed to have just remembered, so he took out the stack of tarot cards from his pocket and handed them over.

"I'm really leaving this time."

He waved his hand.

The engine started, the headlights flashed briefly, and then the car slowly drove out of the alley.

Rachel stood at the doorway, watching the red taillight recede into the distance until it was swallowed up by the traffic.

She looked down at the tarot cards in her hand, smiled gently, and casually picked one from the deck, turning it over.

world.

"It's the world?"

Rachel clutched the card, standing at the door for a very long time.

You have gained Raven Rachel Ross's basic trust, +100 points.

Oh?

Dior glanced at the panel when he had a moment.

Is there an unexpected surprise?

Shortly after, Dior parked his car on the side of the road and looked up at the bar's name above him—

My alibi

This is the bar where Harvey works now.

Because of what happened a few days ago, he specifically resigned and came here to avoid the limelight.

Lob, that scoundrel, did indeed destroy Harvey's dirt as promised, but he did it right in front of him.

In front of all the police officers.

This forced Harvey to resign.

After all, without any dirt on Loeb, he wouldn't be able to stay in the GCPD.

Either you create a scandal for the other party to control, or you investigate a case that will backfire and get you sacked and thrown into the Gotham River.

Therefore, he had no choice but to resign.

My alibi was issued by one of Harvey's girlfriends.

Dior pushed open the door and immediately heard a familiar voice.

"To hell with Penguins! To hell with GCPD! To hell with Lob! Let this city go to hell!"

Gordon, his face flushed from drinking, gripped his glass, glared, and kept swearing.

He was almost completely drunk.

"Wow, who messed with Detective Gordon?"

As soon as Dior sat down, Gordon next to him slumped onto the table and started snoring.

"Hey Harvey, how's retirement going?"

"Not bad. I once thought I'd be willing to serve sandwiches to the devil, but..."

Harvey snorted coldly at the thought of Lob's sour face.

"I feel like I still can't adapt to that kind of life."

Dio breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw that Xavi didn't seem to blame him at all.

"By the way, have any notorious people gone missing in Gotham lately?"

"If we're talking about notoriety, no one in Gotham has a worse reputation than Jim, but..."

Harvey looked troubled.

Although he did frequently sell information to his nephew, this time...

It's not an easy job for him.

After all, so many people have gone missing in Gotham, why should they be infamous?

Harvey thought that this kind of person had most likely offended someone and been taken out by the mob.

"I heard you're looking for someone who's gone missing?"

A drunk man staggered over, his smell of alcohol reaching you before his voice could be heard.

He squinted at Dior's coat, then glanced at the watch on his wrist, a mocking smile creeping onto his lips.

"I happen to know one, the eldest young master."

"Oh?"

Dio turned his head and finally looked at him directly.

"You know?"

"Of course, of course."

The drunkard dragged out his words, glanced at Dior's outfit with disgust, and slammed an empty glass on the table!

boom!

"But young master, you should at least have a drink with me first, shouldn't you?"

With a gurgling sound, a glass of whiskey was pushed in front of Dior.

"Do you know how many times I have to wash cups every day? It's all because of people like you!"

The drunkard let out a burp, his eyes glazed over for a moment, then refocused, filled with the resentment that had accumulated over half a lifetime.

"Sit here and finish this glass. Not a drop left."

Harvey's expression changed, and he reached out to stop him: "Hey, listen to me—"

Harvey.

Dio raised his hand to stop him.

With his other hand, he had already picked up the glass of whiskey and gently swirled it.

"Do you believe in gravity?"

He already had a premonition that the drunkard in front of him might be the clue that had been pulled here by [gravity].

The drunkard was stunned.

gravitational?

What the hell is gravity?

Listen carefully.

Dio stared into the man's eyes, his voice turning deep and threatening:

"If you don't tell the truth, I'll pull out your teeth one by one and make you swallow them. That way you won't need to open your mouth when you brush your teeth."

"Do you understand?"

Harvey jumped up in a panic: "Dio—"

"I said it,"

Dio didn't look at him; his eyes never left the drunkard.

"Don't interfere."

Harvey opened his mouth, took a step back, and sighed heavily.

The drunkard sobered up considerably, and his mouth began to tremble.

Dior tilted his head back, downed the glass of whiskey in one gulp, slammed the glass upside down on the table, and stared intently at the other man.

Tell me about the person you know.

"Now!"