Hulk continued his advance, but no police or soldiers dared to block his path any longer. They had tried shooting, but after seeing bullets of all calibers bounce off his green skin, they abandoned conventional tactics.
Any sensible person would know not to engage in hand-to-hand combat with an enemy who was impervious to firearms. His sheer muscle mass was enough to make anyone back down. The cordon of enforcers was no exception. They watched Hulk approach, but could only retreat quietly.
As for their superiors' orders? Don't make me laugh. Their commanders hadn't ordered them to fight to the death, so this was merely a tactical withdrawal.
The Hulk didn't care whether these annoying little bugs were retreating tactically or not. If it weren't for Betty in his arms, his temper would have long since flared, and he would have charged forward to show these pests the might of the Hulk's iron fist. But because of Betty's presence, he restrained himself from any excessive actions. At most, he kicked the car blocking his path into the air like a UFO.
Seeing the car become an unidentified flying object under the Hulk's foot, Peter finally identified the culprit that had exposed him earlier. But should he really go after him? Staring at the Hulk's massive frame and superhuman combat prowess, Little Spider felt a pang of doubt. If he charged in, one punch from the Hulk would probably turn him into a sandwich filling.
Despite his fear, Peter's body betrayed his hesitation. He swung from his web, silently swooping down behind the Hulk.
"What's that?" A soldier in retreat spotted his figure. The officer beside him quietly replied, "Don't make a sound. That's a New York specialty. Soon, we might not have to worry about this anymore."
"Huh?" The East Coast soldier seemed to have no idea what New York's specialty was. The moment he voiced his puzzled question, Spider-Man had already silently landed on the Hulk's body and unleashed his full strength in a flying kick to the giant's head.
It's important to remember that the 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—a monstrous level of strength for any normal person. But for the Hulk...
The Little Spider's foot struck the Hulk's head. He swore he'd put everything into the kick, but the only effect was a slight forward jerk of the Hulk's head, which immediately stopped. The mountain of flesh didn't budge an inch. The only change was that the Hulk slowly turned his head, fixing his gaze on the Little Spider, who had already leaped back to the ground.
"Uh, big guy... I was just trying to say hello!" Seeing the Hulk's intimidating stare, the Little Spider forced a grin. "Seriously, your muscles are amazing! Can you tell me which gym you train at? I want to check it out!"
It was Little Spider's habit to chatter incessantly, a pastime he indulged in perhaps because Peter Parker lived such a repressed life. Since becoming Spider-Man, he had mastered one thing: trash talk. He could spout endless nonsense at anyone, anytime, including mockery, teasing, relentless questioning, and wild speculation.
Many of Spider-Man's opponents knew that, more than his agility, it was his incessant mouth that drove them mad. He could drive living people to the brink of madness or make dead men want to kill themselves a second time—assuming, of course, that the dead could understand him.
In short, Little Spider might not be the strongest superhero, but he was certainly one of the most talkative. And now, he was using his unique talent to communicate with the Hulk.
However, the Hulk saw none of Little Spider's good intentions. He simply found the guy who had just kicked him to be as annoying as a buzzing fly. And his solution for such pests was always the most direct method.
Hulk raised his massive leg, which would have required two people to embrace, and without hesitation, stomped down on Little Spider.
As the colossal foot descended toward him, Little Spider felt like he was watching a nature documentary about African elephants fighting. He could swear this foot was even more terrifying than an elephant's. Little Spider had no intention of testing the weight of this foot—of course, he wasn't stupid enough to even consider such a thing.
With fifteen times the normal human reaction speed and the enhancement of his Spider-Sense, Little Spider executed a spectacular backflip the instant Hulk's foot landed, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow. Seeing everything around him shaking from the impact, he couldn't resist a sarcastic remark:
"Nice footwork, buddy. Interested in joining me in the World Cup? I bet you could help the US win the World Cup. Look at you—you'd be the perfect goalpost. Just one big kick, and boom! The World Cup is ours. We'll be superstars!"
Listening to Little Spider's incessant 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 policeman beside him.
The policeman nodded rhythmically in response.
"Don't you find this little grid-head fascinating? I love listening to his nonsensical ramblings. And sometimes, they even have surprising effects!"
"Surprising effects? I don't see any. All I see is him chasing that guy like a rabbit." The East Coast soldier shrugged.
"I agree. But don't you think that guy's become like a hound focused solely on chasing the rabbit?"
*A hound chasing a rabbit*—that was indeed the perfect description of Hulk's current actions. Having missed his first stomp on Little Spider, Hulk stubbornly stomped again and again. Though Little Spider dodged each attempt with spectacular rolls, Hulk persisted relentlessly.
The entire avenue trembled with each impact, and the ground near Hulk began to sink. This meant the concrete slabs covering the sewers couldn't withstand the onslaught, and the once-thriving avenue was bidding farewell to the city.
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, nor had he expected the giant to be so volatile.
"You really should take some medication, man. Seriously, something's wrong with you!" he shouted, dodging a massive kick while once again deploying his silver tongue. His reward was usually another enraged stomp from Hulk.
"Even if you don't want to take meds, can you at least stop chasing me? I'm not into guys, I have a girlfriend. And, frankly, you're just too big for me."
Hulk's low emotional intelligence didn't mean his intelligence was equally lacking. He quickly understood Little Spider's teasing, which only fueled his rage. Gritting his teeth, he finally voiced the thought burning in his mind:
"Hulk... hate little bug."
"Hey, I'm no insect. Spiders aren't insects—did your gym teacher teach you biology? And, buddy, aren'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 someone as hot-tempered as the Hulk. He freed one arm, cradling Betty with the other. His five massive fingers spread wide like the Five-Finger Mountain of the Buddha, and he slammed them down on Little Spider.
The mere force of the wind from his palm felt like being blasted by an industrial-grade hairdryer. Little Spider could easily imagine the consequences of being hit. He'd heard of the two-dimensional foil—he suspected being struck by that hand would flatten him into a two-dimensional pancake, stuck to the ground.
Naturally, Little Spider began to showcase his evasive skills. But this time was different. He deployed his spider silk and launched his first counterattack.
A large mass of Spider-Silk was plastered onto Hulk's face. This artificial silk, manufactured by Little Spider himself, was known for its high strength, toughness, and, most importantly, its extreme stickiness. The moment the silk hit Hulk's face, it clung there, completely covering his nose and mouth 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, used his arm as a spring, and charged straight into the green giant's embrace.
He wasn't trying to embrace Hulk; he was trying to rescue the hostage clutched in the giant's arms. To him, it was unscientific that the military was so restrained, afraid to counterattack and not even deploying their advanced weaponry. He guessed this must be because Hulk was holding a hostage. Though he couldn't understand why the military would hesitate to act over such a hostage, he knew that rescuing the person was the priority. Once the hostage was safe, the rest would be up to the military.
Blinded by the silk on his face, Hulk had no idea what was happening. This gave Little Spider his opportunity. He grabbed Betty's hand, shot a strand of Spider-Silk onto a nearby building, and, with a tug on the silk, swung himself and Betty through the air.
His movements were as fluid as flowing clouds and water, and in less than two seconds, he had snatched Betty from Hulk's grasp. 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 swinging Betty towards them before landing with a thud, the surprise was a bit overwhelming.
"Hey, guys! What are you waiting for? Make your move! I've got the hostage safe and sound."
"Make what move?" The police and soldiers stared, dumbfounded. They hadn't expected Little Spider to bring the hostage right to them.
"Stop messing around! I know you have ways to deal with him. Hurry up! My Spider-Silk won't hold for long!" Little Spider said arrogantly, but he quickly realized the two had turned and fled without looking back. Heavy footsteps began to pound behind them—the sound of Hulk charging at full speed, like a herd of rhinos on the move.
"Oh oh, this isn't good." Little Spider finally realized the situation was dire. He'd apparently been too optimistic.
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