Hulk continued his advance, but no police or soldiers dared to block his path. They had tried shooting, but after seeing bullets of all calibers bounce off his green skin, they abandoned conventional tactics.
For anyone with a brain, who would choose to engage in hand-to-hand combat with an enemy who was impervious to gunfire? Just looking at his muscles and his sheer bulk was enough to make anyone back down. The surrounding crowd was no exception. As Hulk approached, they could only quietly retreat.
As for the superiors' orders? Don't make me laugh. Their superiors hadn't ordered them to fight to the death. This was just a tactical withdrawal.
Hulk didn't care if these annoying little bugs were executing some new tactical retreat. If it weren't for Betty in his arms, his temper would have flared long ago, and he'd have charged forward to teach these pests a lesson about the power of the Hulk's iron fist. But because of Betty's presence, he refrained from any excessive actions. At most, he'd send the cars blocking his path flying with a massive kick.
Seeing the car utterly transformed into an unidentified flying object under Hulk's foot, Peter finally identified the culprit that had exposed him. But should he really go after it? Looking at Hulk's massive frame and the superhuman strength he'd displayed, Little Spider felt his resolve waver. If he went up there and took a single punch from that guy, he'd probably end up flattened like a sandwich.
Despite his fear, Peter's body betrayed his hesitation. He swung from a web, silently approaching Hulk from behind.
"What's that?" A retreating soldier spotted him. The policeman beside him quickly responded in a hushed tone.
"Keep quiet. That's a New York specialty. Soon, we might not have to deal with this anymore."
"Huh?" The East Coast soldier seemed to have no idea what New York's "specialty" was. Before he could even voice his confused question, Spider-Man had silently landed on Hulk's body and unleashed his full strength in a flying kick aimed at the giant's head.
It's important to remember that Little Spider, enhanced by mutated spider DNA, was no ordinary human. When he unleashed his full muscular power, he could generate force equivalent to over ten tons. For a normal person, this would be monstrous. But for Hulk...
Little Spider's foot connected with Hulk's skull. He swore he had put every ounce of strength into the kick, but it only caused Hulk's head to jerk forward slightly, and nothing more. The mountain of flesh that was Hulk's body didn't move an inch. The only change was that Hulk slowly turned his head, fixing his oppressive gaze on Little Spider, who had already leaped back to the ground.
"Uh, hey, big guy. I was just trying to say hi!" Seeing Hulk's intimidating stare, Little Spider forced a sycophantic grin. "Seriously, your muscles are amazing! Can you tell me which gym you train at? I'd love to check it out!"
Habitually blabbering was one of Little Spider's favorite pastimes. Perhaps it was because Peter Parker lived such a repressed life. Ever since becoming Spider-Man, he had mastered one skill: trash talk. He could spout endless nonsense at anyone, anytime, anywhere. This included mockery, teasing, relentless interrogation, and endless speculation.
Many who had clashed with Spider-Man knew that, more than his agility, it was his infuriating mouth that truly set him apart. He could drive living people to madness and make the dead want to kill themselves again—assuming, of course, that the dead could understand him.
In short, while Little Spider might not be the strongest superhero in the world, he was undoubtedly one of the most talkative. And now, he was using this unique talent to communicate with the Hulk.
However, the Hulk failed to grasp the goodwill Little Spider was trying to convey. To him, the guy who had just kicked him was nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing in his ear. And his solution for such nuisances had always been direct.
Hulk, without hesitation, raised his massive thigh—so large it would take two men to embrace—and brought it down in a crushing stomp toward Little Spider.
As the colossal foot descended, Little Spider felt like he was watching a nature documentary about African elephants fighting. He swore this foot was even more terrifying than an elephant's. He didn't dare test its weight, nor was he foolish enough to even consider it.
With fifteen times the average human reaction speed and the enhancement of his Spider-Sense, Little Spider executed a spectacular backflip the instant Hulk's foot touched down, dodging the attack. Seeing the ground shake violently before him, he couldn't resist a sarcastic remark:
"Nice footwork, buddy. Interested in joining the World Cup? I bet you could help America win the Hercules Cup. With that physique, you'd be a perfect goalpost. Just one big kick and... boom! The Hercules Cup is ours. We'll be superstars."
Listening to Little Spider's chatter, even the soldiers nearby looked utterly bewildered, let alone Hulk.
"Is this what you New Yorkers are known for?" the East Coast soldier asked the police officer beside him.
The officer nodded rhythmically in response.
"Don't you find this little web-slinger fascinating? I love listening to his nonsensical ramblings. And sometimes, they actually work!"
"Work? I don't see it. All I see is him being chased like a rabbit." The East Coast soldier shrugged.
"I agree, but don't you think that guy's become nothing more than a hound obsessed with chasing that rabbit?"
*Chasing a rabbit* was indeed the perfect description of Hulk's current actions. After missing Little Spider with his first stomp, Hulk stubbornly tried again with a second, then a third. Each time, Little Spider dodged with spectacular rolls, but Hulk refused to give up, continuing to stomp relentlessly.
The entire avenue trembled with each impact, and the ground near Hulk began to sink. This meant the concrete covering the sewer system was starting to buckle under the strain, and the once-bustling avenue was about to bid this city a final farewell.
Little Spider had no time to worry about the destruction Hulk was wreaking on the city streets; he was too busy running for his life. Hulk's attack power was far beyond his expectations. He hadn't anticipated such immense destructive force from the green behemoth, nor such a volatile temper.
"You should really take some medication, man. Seriously, something's not right with you!" he quipped, dodging a massive foot while once again deploying his verbal skills. This only earned him an even more furious kick from Hulk.
"Even if you don't want to take meds, could you at least stop chasing me? I'm not into guys, I've got a girlfriend. And, uh, you're a bit too... big for me."
Low emotional intelligence didn't mean low intelligence. Hulk quickly understood Little Spider's teasing, which only fueled his rage. Gritting his teeth, he finally spat out the words burning in his mind:
"Hulk hate little bug."
"Hey, I'm not a bug. Spiders aren't insects. Did your gym teacher teach you biology? And, buddy, weren't you supposed to be mute? So you *can* talk—why not shout out your dreams like me?"
No one could tolerate such repeated provocation, especially not someone as hot-tempered as the Hulk. He freed one hand and cradled Betty in his arm. His five massive fingers splayed open like Buddha's Five-Finger Mountain and slammed down toward Little Spider.
The sheer force of the incoming palm strike felt like being hit by an industrial-grade fan. Little Spider could easily imagine the consequences of being struck. He'd heard of the two-dimensional foil—he suspected this blow would flatten him into a two-dimensional smear on the ground.
Naturally, Little Spider began to demonstrate his evasive skills. But this time was different. He deployed his spider silk and launched his first counterattack yet.
A large mass of Spider-Silk was plastered across Hulk's face. This artificial silk, created by Little Spider himself, was known for its exceptional strength, toughness, and, most importantly, its extreme stickiness. The moment the silk hit Hulk's face, it clung there, completely covering his mouth and nose and blinding him, turning him into a frantic, headless fly.
This was Little Spider's long-planned strategy. He narrowly dodged Hulk's massive hand, braced himself against the giant's arm, and lunged toward his chest.
He wasn't trying to embrace Hulk; he was trying to rescue the hostage clutched in his arms. In his view, it was illogical for the military to be so restrained, afraid to counterattack or even deploy their advanced weaponry. He guessed this must be because Hulk was holding a hostage. Though he couldn't understand why the military would care about such a hostage, he knew that rescuing them was the priority.
Blinded by the silk, Hulk had no idea what was happening. This gave Little Spider his chance. He grabbed Betty's hand, shot a strand of Spider-Silk onto a nearby building, and pulled her along as he swung across the gap.
His movements were as fluid and effortless as flowing clouds and water, and in less than two seconds, he had snatched Betty from Hulk's arms. The crowd was stunned, and some even cheered.
Even the guy who loved to imitate Little Spider's catchphrases couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
"See? He's amazing! This is the surprise I was talking about."
But when he saw Little Spider swing Betty towards them before landing with a thud, the surprise felt a little... excessive.
"Hey, what are you guys waiting for? Get moving! I've got the hostage here!"
"Move what?" The police and soldiers stared dumbfounded. They hadn't expected Little Spider to bring the hostage directly to them.
"Stop messing around! I know you have ways to deal with him. Hurry up! My Spider-Silk can't hold out much longer!" Little Spider said smugly, but he quickly realized the two figures had bolted without looking back. Heavy footsteps began pounding behind them—the sound of the Hulk charging. It sounded like a herd of rhinos on the move.
"Oh, oh, this is bad," Little Spider finally realized. He'd apparently been too optimistic.
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