American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 189 Could it be that Dio is Bruce Wayne?! [Bonus Chapter for 7k views, please vote!]

Selena Kyle.

This professional catwoman is known for her agility and captivating charm at the Iceberg Club.

At this moment, however, she had shed her signature icy attire, wearing only a slightly oversized dark gray hooded sweatshirt, which cleverly concealed her usually striking slender figure.

Her lower body was just a simple pair of jeans, which looked a bit faded from washing.

Her thick, long brown hair wasn't styled carefully; it was simply gathered at the back of her head and tied into a loose ponytail, with only a few unruly strands falling down her beautifully shaped neck.

The usual slyness and playfulness were gone from his face; in its place was only a certain...
Focus and tranquility.

She was half-squatting down, handing a basket full of fruit and simple toys to a skinny little girl. Several other children were lined up nearby, their eyes fixed on the cardboard boxes full of food at her feet.

It looks like they're distributing Christmas gifts to these children forgotten in the corners of Gotham...

This scene, in stark contrast to the dilapidated surroundings and the ornate cage filled with intrigue and death that Dio had just left, created an incredibly powerful contrast.

The Harley unconsciously slowed down a little.

Watching the soft lines of her profile as she bent over, watching her occasionally raise her hand to ruffle the hair of the little girl who pounced on her legs and hugged her legs, there was an almost clumsy tenderness in that movement that Dior rarely saw in this cat.

...A pointless act of kindness.

A cold voice echoed in Dio's mind.

In this filthy place, utterly abandoned by God and luck, what can this impulsive act of charity change?
It's nothing more than a performance for self-gratification.

Meaningless and foolish.

Can.
Another, more subtle thought, however, surfaced uncontrollably.
He thought of Smallwell, and of his father who would occasionally take them to help families in town who were truly in need.

He recalled the unreserved warmth in his aunt's eyes when she looked at him as a child, a gaze that was exactly the same as the woman before him.

This association made him feel a strange sense of unease.

Just as Dio was about to turn the accelerator and leave this filthy place behind Selena, his gaze inadvertently fell upon the empty Christmas gift boxes behind her.

Christmas boxes...

This reminded him.

"The gifts are all given out, little ones. See you next year!"

Selena was focused on handing the last apple to a timid little girl, her face showing a gentleness she herself was unaware of.

Completely unaware of the figure that silently descended from not far away, like a predator.

"Can't you be flexible?"

"Make an exception my ass." She retorted almost reflexively, tidying up as she said without looking up, "We've given out all the gifts. If you want more, wait until next year... Come and line up early."

She suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

This sound…

That cold, unique tone...

A strange jolt ran down her spine, causing Selena to jerkly lift her head. Her hood slipped down, revealing a delicate face filled with disbelief.

"boss?!"

She almost gasped, instinctively glancing around at the dilapidated surroundings, then at the blond man who seemed so out of place in the slums:
"Shouldn't you be at your high-society luncheons right now, socializing with those upper-class people?"

"ended."

Dior answered calmly, as if the murder was nothing more than a trivial matter.

He paused, his red eyes sweeping over the empty gift box at her feet, and spoke in an emotionless tone, "'Christmas Catman's' quota for this year is used up?"

Selena was taken aback at first, then realized he was referring to her. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she pouted somewhat irritably, instinctively replying in her usual teasing tone:

"So it seems you also slipped out of that 'golden cage' ahead of time? What's wrong? Was the air inside too stuffy, or did the food not suit your taste, Lord Dio?"

"Yes."

Dio raised an eyebrow slightly and retorted, "After all, even the most dutiful 'cage watcher' has to allow the cat in the cage to occasionally sneak out and bask in... Gotham's rare sunshine, doesn't he?"

His gaze swept meaningfully over her casual clothes and the children around her.

"."

She avoided Dior's probing gaze with a flicker of her eye, and looked down uncomfortably at her dusty hoodie and faded jeans.

Selena instinctively raised her hand to pull down her hood, trying to cover her face, but when she caught a glimpse of the innocent and curious eyes of the children around her...
Filled with the shame and annoyance of having her secret exposed, she said in a defiant manner:

"Think what you want, laugh if you want." Shrugging, Selena simply raised her head to meet Dio's gaze. "After all, she's a female thief who's all smiles and pleasantries to guests at the club, then 'borrows' their treasures at night, and then plays the saint here during the day, handing out apples to poor children."

"It does sound pretty ridiculous, hahaha..."

The self-deprecating laughter sounded somewhat lonely on the empty street.

It even carried a hint of vulnerability that she herself was unaware of.

Can.
She laughed a few times, but found that Dior did not show the mocking smile or say anything harsh as she had expected.

He simply watched her quietly, his red eyes devoid of any emotion, as if he were appreciating a performance that had nothing to do with him, or as if he were waiting for the clamor of wild cats howling outside his window to naturally subside at night.

Only when her laughter gradually subsided, eventually turning into an awkward lingering sound that dissipated into the stale air of Gotham's East Side, did Dio speak softly, breaking the delicate silence:
"Are you done laughing?"

His voice was steady, revealing no emotion.

Selena paused for a moment, then nodded subconsciously, still pondering his unusual calmness.

"it is good."

Dior continued, in a matter-of-fact tone, "Now that you're done laughing, lend me two empty boxes."

He gestured with his chin to the cardboard boxes with Santa Claus printed on them at her feet.

"what?"

Selena was taken aback again, completely unprepared for his request.

Empty boxes? What does he want these tattered cardboard boxes that the children have emptied out?
She blinked, a mischievous glint reappearing in her azure eyes, and habitually put on that playful expression again. She took a step closer and pressed herself against Dio's side.

She raised her face, which was still radiant and beautiful even without makeup, and deliberately spoke in a seductive tone:

"Lend it to you? Of course, boss~ But..." she drawled, gently twirling a strand of her hair with her fingers, "What 'benefits' would I get?"

Deep down...
She expected to see Dior leave impatiently or with a cold expression.
After all, he has always hated this kind of meaningless haggling.

This is perfect; it allows me to quickly escape this awkward and helpless situation.

She could almost mentally rehearse the scene after he left, where she could finally breathe a sigh of relief and continue cleaning up the mess.

However.
Dior's reaction, however, was unexpected.

He didn't immediately refute or leave, seemingly amused by this overly arrogant attitude, or perhaps simply found it troublesome.

The next second, he launched a fierce attack!

Selena felt a blur before her eyes as an irresistible force instantly seized her wrist, pulling her backward!
Her back bumped gently against the mottled outer wall of the orphanage, making a slight thud.

The cool touch seeped through the thin fabric of her sweatshirt, making her shiver involuntarily.

Dior braced himself against the wall beside her ear, his tall figure casting her into shadow.

He looked down at her, his red eyes locked onto her gaze at close range, their breaths mingling on each other's faces.

Selena was initially stunned, her mind went blank for a moment, but then...
His face showed no fear whatsoever; instead, a flame of defiance ignited in his eyes.

Hey, you've pulled this stunt on me?
Her muscles tensed instantly, her back arched, and the smooth lines of her body were faintly visible beneath her loose sweatshirt. She prepared to step forward, to show her boss what it meant to play with fire and get burned, and what her unique charm as Selena Kyle truly meant.
But just as her leg muscles tightened, preparing to unleash a counterattack...

But his gaze suddenly met Dior's red eyes, which were so close to his.

There was no desire, no aggression, only a bottomless tranquility.

Simultaneously
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse behind him. The children who had been playing had stopped what they were doing, their big, curious eyes blinking as they stared at them with bewildered expressions.

What are those two doing?

The audience she subconsciously noticed made her freeze in her prepared counterattack.

A sudden surge of heat rushed to my cheeks, and my heart skipped a few beats.

The power she had been holding in dissipated like a punctured balloon, causing her to unconsciously close her eyes in a self-destructive manner, her long eyelashes trembling slightly as if waiting for something.

Is it mockery? Or...?

However.
None of the anticipated contact occurred.

She only felt a warm breath near her ear, accompanied by Dior's lowered, teasing voice:

"Thank you for the box."

Before the words were even finished, the oppressive feeling vanished abruptly.

Selena opened her eyes abruptly, only to find that Dio had already stepped back, and was now holding two empty gift boxes that had been placed at her feet.

He was looking at her slightly flushed and bewildered face with a look that seemed to ask, "What are you waiting for?" and casually waved the hand holding the box.

Then he turned around nimbly, mounted the silver Harley, let the engine roar with a joyful sound, and sped away without a trace of lingering.

Selena was left alone, leaning against the cold wall, her face still flushed, her chest rising and falling slightly from the inexplicable tension she had just felt.

Watching the silver light disappear around the street corner.
for a while
She gritted her teeth, stamped her foot in embarrassment and anger, and muttered a curse under her breath:
"……asshole!"

But in her tone, besides annoyance, there seemed to be a hint of lingering resentment that even she herself couldn't quite understand.

With a sigh, she turned around and continued bending down to tidy up the empty cardboard boxes.

Only the corners of her mouth, without her even realizing it, defied her will and quietly curved into a very subtle, soft arc.

"Sister Selena."

A childish voice rang out beside her; it was the little girl who had taken the last apple from her earlier.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Selena stopped what she was doing, squatted down, and lowered herself to the girl's eye level.

But then the little girl timidly handed over a neatly folded piece of paper.

"That older brother asked me to give this to you. He said..."

"Charitable donations must be used for charitable causes."

"A check? How could he be so kind?"

Selena took the note with some doubt, unfolding it while muttering to herself, wondering what Dio was up to this time.

But when she saw what was written on the note, her voice stopped abruptly.
It was as if I had seen something incredible.

One million dollars?!

She gasped, almost unable to believe her eyes.

"Just the name."

Selena frowned in confusion as she scanned the signature area below the check.

"How come it's Bruce Wayne?"

Could it be that.
Dior is Bruce Wayne?!
-
The living room at Kent Farm was even more lively and bustling than on Christmas Eve.

Unlike the warm, saccharine atmosphere of the previous night with family members, this was a true Christmas party, with all the guests being close relatives and friends of the Kent family.

Magician Zatanna, old shepherd Henry Sullivan and his granddaughter Chloe, Lana Long with a sweet smile, and several familiar faces from the town, including Anthony and Cebrelo.

The air was filled with the aroma of roasted gingerbread, the fragrance of blueberry pie, and cheerful laughter.

The party's final little climax was naturally Locke holding the two silver-haired babies and introducing the new family members to everyone.

"Cough cough."

Locke cleared his throat, a mixture of helplessness and humor on his face. "Gentlemen, let me introduce Virgil and Dante, the newest members of our family."

Under the curious gazes of the crowd, he remained calm and stated in a tone as if stating a fact: "It was delivered by a stork."

After a brief silence, a burst of good-natured laughter erupted in the living room.

Old Hunter slapped his thigh, Zatanna covered her mouth and chuckled, and Lana couldn't help but laugh too.

They had long been accustomed to the occasional 'little miracles' at the Kent family's home and had tacitly accepted this unique ecological logic belonging to this farm.

"Oh—it's a stork!"

Chloe drawled out her words, laughing as she echoed her sentiment, eliciting another round of laughter from the crowd. This seemingly absurd reason, in the warm atmosphere of the moment, became the most natural and easily accepted explanation.

"boom--!"

Amidst the laughter and chatter, the farmhouse door was gently pushed open, and Dio walked in, bringing with him the chill of a Gotham night.

His sophisticated black suit clashed with the rustic charm of the farmhouse.

His face showed a hint of fatigue, though he was still trying to maintain his usual arrogance.

His keen eyes immediately caught the deep weariness in his son. Locke walked over with two cups of hot cocoa, handed one to Dio, and said in a casual tone:

"Did you have fun in Gotham today?"

Taking the warm cup, the warmth from it slightly dispelled the chill.

Avoiding his father's overly sharp gaze, Dior lowered his head and took a sip of his sweet drink, responding in an extremely nonchalant tone, as if he had merely gone to see a boring movie:

"Fortunately."

These two words blocked all possible follow-up inquiries and buried all the conspiracies and deaths that occurred in the Iceberg Club.

Locke looked at him, not asking any questions, but simply reached out and patted Dio's shoulder firmly. The warmth and strength of his hand, transmitted through the expensive suit fabric, carried a silent understanding and support.

Dior's body stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment, then relaxed.

He didn't say anything more, just held the cup of hot cocoa that was so different from his usual demeanor.
She quietly walked to the corner by the fireplace and sat down, watching the lively scene in the living room.
Watching Uncle Jonathan fly around in the sky with the expressionless Virgil, Aunt Martha humming softly while holding Dante, watching Clark, Lana, and Chloe chatting and laughing, watching Salafir try to put the Santa hat on the reluctant God's head...

He leaned back slightly, closed his eyes, and felt the warmth from the fireplace flames, completely relaxing his body.

Seeing Dio's reaction, Locke breathed a sigh of relief.

He thought the guy had been dumped.
"So you can smell it? He smells like a woman's perfume."

A faint, sweet scent of violets drifted closer. Zatanna had appeared beside Locke without him noticing, nudged him gently with her elbow, and whispered:

"This perfume is quite high-end; it's the kind of perfume I usually can't bear to use."

"She's undoubtedly a very tasteful, and... quite wealthy lady." She made a quick judgment based on her scent, her tone certain. "She's probably the young lady we met last time, right?"

Why do you care so much?

Locke's face darkened, and he said in a low voice, annoyed, "What's wrong with young people falling in love?"

"Hum..."

Zatanna crossed her arms, her tone unusually serious:

"In a place like Gotham, you need to be careful about getting involved with those rich heiresses, Dior. They're not Smallwell; one wrong step could lead to disaster."

"."

Although he knew she meant well, Locke was still left speechless, both amused and exasperated by her words.

He raised his hand and flicked Zatanna's smooth forehead lightly.

"Ouch!"

Zatanna covered her forehead and glared at him with displeasure.

Locke ignored her protests and scanned the living room, where he saw Salafir still persistently trying to put a reindeer antler headband on the head of the disgusted Shen Du.

He beckoned.

“Sarafil”.

Hearing his father's call, Salafir immediately stopped tormenting his younger brother, ran over on his short legs, and looked up:
"?"

Crouching down, Locke pointed to Dio, who was resting with his eyes closed by the fireplace, winked at him, and whispered, "Go and see how your brother Dio is doing. Tell him not to sit alone."

Blinking her large, bright blue eyes, Salafir immediately understood and nodded vigorously.

He ran up to Dio and asked directly in a clear voice:
"Brother Dior! Where's my Christmas present?"

"..."

As soon as he finished speaking, the little guy felt a helpless gaze coming from his father's direction.

He suddenly realized what he had said, quickly covered his mouth, gave an embarrassed smile, and hurriedly changed his words, trying to salvage the situation: "I was wrong, I was wrong! It was... Brother Dio, would you like to see the Christmas present that Sister Zatanna prepared for you?"

Dio, who was closing his eyes to dispel his fatigue, slowly opened them upon hearing this.

Salafir's slightly nervous and expectant face was reflected in her red eyes.

He was somewhat intrigued, leaning forward slightly and even adopting a tone that unusually matched Salafir's.

"Oh? You prepared a gift?" A smile played on his lips. "Then... how about we take it out together and open it to see?"

Salafir immediately jumped for joy: "Great!"

The two seemed to have reached some kind of mysterious agreement, and simultaneously opened the gift boxes they were holding.

Then, both of them froze.
In the box that Salafir was holding lay a small pumpkin head carved with a comical smiling face, with a slightly Gothic style.

In the box in Dior's hand was also a pumpkin head, only slightly larger and darker in color, exuding a more antique feel.

"......."

"......."

The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

Salafir was the first to react. He blinked, trying to break the awkward silence, and held up his small pumpkin head, his tone slightly smug, as he forced an explanation:

"Ha, ha... My pumpkin head is different from yours! Mine can dance!"

As he spoke, he imitated Zatanna and snapped his fingers crisply.

"Snapped!"

A crisp sound,

But the next moment, it was both laughable and lamentable.

Not only the pumpkin head in Salafir's hand, but also the large pumpkin head that Dio had taken from Selena, had its eye sockets and mouth emitting a ghostly green light.

They swayed left and right together, clumsily yet in sync, performing that bizarre and comical dance.

Dio: “…”

Salafir: "..."

The two brothers fell silent again, looking at each other in bewilderment.

A moment later, Dior's expression became subtle.

He didn't say anything, but silently handed over the large pumpkin head he was holding.

Salafir understood perfectly and without hesitation stuffed his little pumpkin head into Dio's hands.

Exchange complete.

The whole process was smooth and natural, without a single unnecessary word of communication, as if it were perfectly natural.

After completing all this, Dio's gaze finally fell on the figure not far away, who had been crossing his arms and turning his head to the side as if watching the fireplace flames, but in reality, his ears were slightly perked up, paying close attention to the commotion.

Seeing that awkward look of "I don't care" yet unable to resist his curiosity, Dior's eyes flashed with a very faint smile, mixed with a bit of brotherly teasing.

He didn't say anything sentimental; he simply pulled another gift box from the inside pocket of his suit, and without even looking at it, tossed it precisely to Shen Du.

He subconsciously reached out and caught it, glancing at the box with his golden eyes, his face still showing undisguised disgust.

"If it's a pumpkin, I don't want it."

However, that's true.
But he didn't slow down at all, deftly opening the packaging.

Inside the box lay a beautifully crafted gold pen inlaid with several gemstones.

The pen gleamed with a luxurious sheen in the fireplace light.

It looks extremely vulgar.
But Shen Du really likes this kind of thing.

A fleeting, undisguised fervor flashed in those golden eyes that always held a mocking glint.

That's an instinctive possessiveness towards something beautiful and precious!
"Cough cough."

He composed himself, maintaining a dismissive expression on his face.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Shen Du tore open a tiny spatial rift.

He threw the pen and box in together, and deliberately whistled off-key, as if he didn't care at all.

Having witnessed all of this, Dio ignored his hypocritical brother.

He simply leaned back in his chair and stretched.

until
"Dior. Mine"

Clark rubbed his hands together and chuckled, "A Christmas present."

"Three thousand US dollars."

Dior said coldly, "Remember to stuff my stockings full of dollars tonight too."

"?!"

Clark was shocked, "How could you..."

"What's wrong, Clark?" Martha, who was comforting Dante and Virgil, looked at Clark. "What happened?"

"Cough cough. It's alright, Mom."

Meeting Dior's mocking eyes, Clark, knowing full well that he would be reported if he didn't do as he was told, could only utter those three words through tears:
"nothing."

The noise of the Christmas party gradually faded away.

Friends and family left one after another, filled with laughter and best wishes. The living room of Kent Farm returned to its usual tranquility, leaving only the lingering warmth of the festival and the dishes to be cleaned up.

Locke was helping Jonathan tidy up the sofa when he noticed that Salafir wasn't bothering God or fiddling with his music box as usual, but was sitting alone on the rug by the fireplace.

She was resting her chin on her little hand, staring blankly at the leaping flames, her little face full of sullenness.

Locke put down his work, walked over to Salafir, squatted down, gently ruffled his soft hair, and asked softly, "What's wrong? Weren't you happy just now? Don't you like the pumpkin head Dior gave you?"

“No,” Salafir looked up, shook his head, and said in a low voice, “Dad…it’s Sister Kayla…”

"Sister Kayla?" Locke was taken aback for a moment, then realized, "Is that the... guardian girl who can turn into a white wolf that you were talking about?"

"Ah."

Salafir nodded vigorously, her little mouth pouting, looking even more upset:
"I just went to check on her, Sister Kayla...she's still not awake..."

Locke looked surprised upon hearing this.

After all, they are different from the small animals on the farm who can only live on the farm temporarily because their habitats have been destroyed.

He learned from Salafir that the Native American girl named Kayla was a guardian of the kryptonite mines that had sealed the Doomsday for generations.

After being banished to the end of time by them on Doomsday, he thought that since this dutiful guardian had completed his mission, he should have already awakened and left.

But unexpectedly, it was still asleep?

"Not awake yet?"

Locke was somewhat amused and exasperated. He looked at his youngest son, his tone carrying a strange, teasing tone:

"Sarafil, how much strength did you use to 'gently' put Sister Kayla to sleep so she wouldn't be affected by the battle?"

He remembered that the situation was urgent, and that Salafir put Kayla into a deep sleep to protect her in order to save her from the roar of Doomsday.

“I just want him/her to get a good night’s sleep.” Salafir was a little embarrassed by her father’s question and muttered softly, “Don’t be impulsive. Don’t get hurt…”

Seeing his son's aggrieved little face, Locke's heart softened. He smiled, reached out and picked up Salafir, letting him sit in his arms.

"Okay, Daddy thinks Kayla won't blame you."

Locke gently touched his son's forehead with his own. "You protected your friend. You did the right thing."

"Come on, since you're worried about Sister Kayla, Daddy will take you to see her now, okay?"

"Maybe she's just sleeping soundly."

Salafir's eyes lit up, and she hugged Locke's neck tightly, nodding vigorously:
"it is good!"
-
P.S.: The concepts of Hell and demons in DC Comics, as well as the Sparda twins from Devil May Cry, are listed in the works-related section. You can check them out if you're interested.

(End of this chapter)