Chapter 337: The Attack of the Five Hobgoblins
"This time, don't even think about running away." Peter blocked Harry from behind, quickly switching his web-shooters to the Super Webbing Gen-2.
Harry looked back and forth at the two surrounding him. He immediately signaled for five extra gliders to rush to the scene.
"Destiny! This is between me and Spider-Man. Don't meddle in other people's business!" Harry was extremely wary of Destiny.
Silas Parker didn't say much, simply telling Peter: "There's a little mouse hiding here too. I'll leave the Green Goblin to you."
"I understand," Peter nodded. He knew the "mouse" Silas referred to was the Vulture, lurking in the shadows.
Silas ignored Harry and turned to fly toward the Vulture's direction. As for the Vulture, the moment he saw Destiny appear, he turned and fled without a word. Dealing with Spider-Man was trouble enough, let alone adding Destiny to the mix.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Silas left. Although Spider-Man was still difficult, he was at least manageable compared to the overwhelming pressure of Destiny.
"No matter what you do today, you're definitely going to prison." Peter was thoroughly enraged by the Green Goblin's actions. The sight of so many injured civilians filled him with guilt; if he had caught the Goblin sooner, none of this would have happened.
"Talk is cheap, Spider-Man! Let's have a real duel!" Harry manipulated five autonomous gliders to launch. The bladed gliders looked like hunting hawks circling the sky, their metallic surfaces glinting dangerously in the sunlight. Peter focused intently, his enhanced dynamic vision tracking every high-speed movement.
Thwip!
Peter fired a massive web from his right wrist, which expanded mid-air like a giant net. It snared the first glider, and the upgraded webbing jammed its thrusters.
Crash!
Peter yanked the web, slamming the glider into the concrete below and reducing it to a pile of scrap metal.
Whoosh!
His Spider-Sense blared. Without even looking back, Peter ducked slightly, letting a second glider zoom harmlessly over his head.
"Have a pumpkin!" Harry suddenly hurled a pumpkin bomb. But Peter's Spider-Sense was like a cheat code; he caught the bomb with a web and flicked it into the sky.
BOOM!
A black explosion bloomed like a dark firework.
"Is that all you've got, Goblin?" Peter said, closing in.
"Don't get cocky!" Harry stomped his foot.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Ten gun ports on the glider unleashed a storm of golden bullets. Peter's eyes widened, and he backflipped through the storm, vanishing into the shadows cast on the walls.
"Come out! You coward!" Harry screamed.
"Down here!" Peter appeared beneath Harry, leaping up and smashing his fist into the glider.
Thud!
Peter's fist punched through the machinery, and he grabbed Harry's left ankle. Harry reacted quickly, stomping on Peter's hand. Peter winced and let go, allowing Harry to leap to another floating glider.
"You know, if you just sold these things as toys, you'd do pretty well," Peter said, landing steadily and tossing the broken glider into a recycling bin.
"I'll consider it—once you're dead," Harry hissed.
"Glad you're open to suggestions. It would be even better if you just turned yourself in." Peter started quipping, trying to buy time or talk sense into him, though he knew it wouldn't work on Harry.
"If you commit suicide, I'll consider that too," Harry retorted.
As they traded barbs, Peter was waiting for the police or Silas to return. Harry, meanwhile, was waiting for his own reinforcements.
"Look, a plane!" Peter suddenly pointed behind the Goblin.
"Do you think I'm three years old?" Harry sneered.
Chop-chop-chop-chop!
Then, Harry heard the rotors. He turned to see a military helicopter approaching.
"Target codename: Green Goblin. Orders are to take him alive," an officer on board commanded.
Wham!
While Harry was distracted, Peter webbed over and kicked him squarely in the back. Harry flew like a cannonball, crashing through a glass window into a nearby building.
"I always tell the truth," Peter said, standing atop the Goblin's discarded glider.
Harry slowly rose from the glass shards, looked at the police and Spider-Man surrounding him, and began to laugh hysterically.
"What's he doing?" a pilot asked.
"Be careful," the officer warned. The damage today was immense—a skyscraper nearly collapsed, and many were hurt.
Peter watched Harry closely. He knew the Goblin always had an exit strategy. "Whatever you're thinking, give it up."
Harry stopped laughing and looked at Peter. "You know... I prepared for this. Come forth! My Hobgoblins!"
Cackle-hahaha!
A chilling, demonic laughter echoed through the sky. Five figures draped in yellowish-tan hooded cloaks and wearing orange-yellow masks flew in from all directions. They were equipped with gear identical to the Green Goblin's.
"Hobgoblins! Go wild!" Harry shouted, his mind slipping further into madness.
The Hobgoblins pulled pumpkin bombs from their belts and hurled them at Spider-Man and the helicopter.
"Ascend! Ascend!" the officer screamed.
Peter moved faster. He swung between the buildings, catching the bombs with webs and throwing them into the air to detonate safely.
"You're welcome!" Peter quipped as he swung past the officer's face.
"I wasn't going to thank him," the officer muttered, adjusting his cap.
On the roof of a nearby building, Peter stood alone against six enemies: the Green Goblin and the five Hobgoblins.
"This is Spider-Man? He's just a bug!"
"I'll tear you apart!"
"Let me have him first!"
They spoke as if Peter were already their prey.
"Attack!" Harry commanded.
The five Hobgoblins swarmed. On the open rooftop, Peter had nowhere to hide. He rolled and flipped desperately to dodge their coordinated strikes.
"Taste this!" One Hobgoblin dropped a round canister.
Poof!
Thick yellow gas erupted at Peter's feet.
"Toxic gas detected. Activating Spider-Mask," Gaia's voice rang in his ear.
A red metallic mask snapped shut over his cloth hood, sealing out the air and switching to the suit's internal oxygen supply.
"Uh... thanks," Peter muttered, breathing fresh air. He hadn't even known the suit had that feature.
Outside the gas cloud, the Hobgoblins hovered.
"Is he dead?" one asked.
"He has to be. That gas is lethal," another replied confidently.
Chop-chop-chop!
The military helicopter flew overhead, the downwash from its rotors blowing the toxic smoke away—revealing the figure standing inside.
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