All the cold storage doors behind the long table opened, and white mist poured out. Aside from the cannon fodder Black Mask had sent, there were two figures worth introducing.
The one on the left was tall and thin, wearing a ragged burlap coat and a coarse sack over his head, with just two holes cut out for his eyes.
Scarecrow.
The one on the right stood over two meters tall. His scales reflected a wet, dark green sheen under the cold storage lights, his lower jaw jutted forward, and his teeth overlapped. His looks left a great deal to be desired.
Killer Croc.
Chen Mo had just cut through the first hostage's chains when his Spider-Sense suddenly spiked. He flipped backward with the hostage in his arms, and Scarecrow's scythe swept through the spot he had just occupied. Its tip scraped the pillar with a teeth-grating metallic shriek.
The webbing on the pillar was sliced clean through.
Pretty sharp. Worthy of a villain with an actual name in Gotham.
Chen Mo landed behind a stack of crates with the hostage, pushed them toward a safe corner, then looked up.
Killer Croc was striding over from the cold storage doorway, every step cracking the concrete floor.
Chen Mo blinked.
"Hold on."
He looked at Killer Croc, then at Scarecrow, then back at Killer Croc.
"I remember only just throwing you into Blackgate Penitentiary. Sure, I know you wouldn't stay there forever, even though your crimes legally warrant a life sentence, but couldn't you at least put in a token month?"
A low growl rumbled in Killer Croc's throat.
"Spider-Man."
"Oh, you came after me before Bats? He'll get jealous."
Scarecrow's voice drifted over from another direction.
"Interesting fear. A very small child. A very large fire. You were running through