The rolling shutter ahead had already come halfway down.
Chen Mo watched the narrowing gap, took a deep breath, and shot a web onto the bottom of the shutter. He braced his feet against the floor and pulled back.
The enormous metal door let out a teeth-grating groan as it warped, stopping half a meter above the ground.
That felt good.
While rescuing the hostages, he had kept holding back, terrified that one careless touch might finish off one or two of them.
When fighting Scarecrow and Killer Croc, their completely different abilities to take a beating had forced him to constantly consider how hard to hit.
Often, right after hitting Scarecrow, he would hit Killer Croc before adjusting his strength, only to find that Killer Croc hadn't felt a thing.
It was frustrating.
Pulling doors, cars, and boats really was much better. All I had to do was mindlessly pile on more strength.
Batman didn't waste that half second. He ducked and slid through the gap, his cape skimming the floor like a pool of black liquid.
Chen Mo followed close behind, though his posture was much less graceful. He looked like a gecko being hunted down by life itself, and as he squeezed along the floor, the edge of the door nearly scraped off a piece of his suit.
"..."
Even through a mask, and through half a mask, Batman could sense Spider-Man's unhappiness. It was about as easy to detect as the fact that a cold room was colder inside than outside.
The chill was mingled with blood, rust, rotting flesh, and disinfectant, as though someone had moved an entire morgue into the depths of the warehouse and thrown in a little local Gotham seasoning for good measure.
"Welcome to the second course!" Black Mask's voice rang