No one answered Spider-Man.
Even though the answer was simple: it was definitely too late. Accept your fate, Spider-Man.
Because no one had time to deal with him anymore. The second after Chen Mo finished speaking, the street descended into complete chaos.
Even for New York, an alien invasion counted as an apocalypse-level event.
A taxi swerved to avoid falling metal debris and slammed toward the sidewalk, heading straight for the middle-aged man who had been swearing the foulest earlier.
A strand of webbing struck its hood.
"Sp-Spider-Man?" The man nearly bit his tongue as he spoke.
"No need to thank me. Go find somewhere safe!"
Chen Mo planted both feet against the ground, his arm muscles tightening as he forcibly dragged the taxi off course before it could plow into the crowd.
Its rear swung around, nearly hitting a woman holding a child.
Chen Mo scooped up the mother and child and rolled into the entrance of a roadside shop.
Glass shattered against his back.
The child burst into tears.
Chen Mo shielded them beneath him and raised his head, keeping his voice as light as he could.
"Hey, it's okay."
"New York sightseeing really is pretty intense. That's how we international metropolises do things. Next time, I'd recommend a museum. They're a little safer."
Still shaken, the woman rattled off a string of thanks.
Chen Mo didn't hear her out.
His Spider-Sense flared again.
He spun around.
Across the street, the supports of a huge billboard had snapped from the shock, and it was falling toward a group trapped in the middle of the road.
Chen Mo leaped off the ground.
He fired webs in rapid succession.
One, two, three.
White webbing stuck to the billboard's edges. Suspended in midair, he planted his feet against the neighboring building's