The instant he finished speaking, Batman squeezed the Flame Blowtorch's trigger all the way down. Orange-red flames gushed from the nozzle, searing the pink starfish on Superman's face with pinpoint accuracy.
The starfish's arms curled violently in the heat, its pink surface rapidly turning charred black.
It worked, but only to a point. This starfish seemed slightly different from the spores in Gotham that had crumbled at the slightest touch of fire. It looked bigger and thicker. Although it seemed to writhe in agony under the blowtorch's flames, it was like a piece of beef that refused to cook through-the damage never reached its underside.
The flames weren't intense enough.
Batman withdrew the blowtorch and watched for several seconds. Superman's groans were gradually weakening as the effects of the kryptonite faded, and he struggled to get up.
But that posed no problem for Batman. He drew a silver pressurized canister from the side of his belt and sprayed Superman in the face.
Kryptonite aerosol spray. Five times the concentration of the dust bomb, with a small effective range but exceptional penetration, designed specifically for use at extremely close quarters.
Hiss!
A pale green mist sprayed from the canister, its color as eerie as molten jade. The instant it met the air, the mist condensed into tiny crystals that clung to the starfish's surface and Superman's skin.
Superman's half-raised arm suddenly froze.
This time, his scream didn't even come from his throat. It was an almost suffocating sound forced out of his lungs. His entire body arched, then slammed back into the ground, each muscular spasm sending spiderweb cracks through the concrete.
To a Kryptonian, kryptonite was a radioactive poison. Absorbing the highly concentrated aerosol through both the skin and respiratory tract was comparable to soaking a person in concentrated nuclear