Hulk is the embodiment of Dr. Banner's childhood trauma and the emotions repressed in adulthood; his strength increases as his anger grows.
This was something Batman had long since deduced based on Dr. Banner's life history and the Hulk's various behaviors since his birth.
From the moment Venom-Robin began fighting Hulk until now, although the Hulk occasionally gritted his teeth and cursed at Robin, Batman could clearly determine that Hulk had not entered a state of rage.
Hulk had maintained his baseline strength while fighting Venom-Robin. It wasn't until Venom-Robin reverted to his previous Venom form—his strength sky-rocketing to the point of overpowering Hulk—that a flash of anger finally crossed Hulk's face.
With a low roar, muffled thunder rolled within the Hulk's body. His powerful heart beat wildly, pumping green blood throughout his entire system.
Venom had just turned the tables, but facing the slightly angered Hulk, the Green Goliath's fist pressed down on Venom slowly but unstoppably.
Although matching the Hulk in size and exploding muscle mass had multiplied Venom's strength, he still appeared powerless before the Hulk.
"Hulk, that's enough."
Just as Venom was about to be completely pinned to the ground by Hulk, Batman spoke.
As soon as the words left Batman's mouth, Hulk's fists unclenched into palms, grabbing both of Venom's fists and pinning him down like a pair of hydraulic clamps, rendering him immobile.
"Hulk not satisfied. Find Big Lizard," Hulk grunted at Batman in dissatisfaction.
"There will be opportunities, Hulk," Batman soothed, then looked at Venom. "Robin, change back."
Venom's dual fists were held tight by the Hulk. Hearing Batman's voice, he turned his head, his scarlet tongue curling in the air.
"Ho ho, Batman? Don't you recognize me? What Robin? I am your favorite Venom!"
The voice was rough and violent, lacking any trace of Venom-Robin's clear tone. Instead, it sounded exactly like the original Symbiote Venom.
Even his tone was identical to Venom's.
"Excessive moonlight turns Venom-Robin into a pure Moon Knight, while an extreme lack of moonlight turns him into pure Venom..."
Batman deduced Venom's current condition and signaled Doctor Otto with a glance.
"Moonlight!"
Standing on the moonlight platform, Doctor Otto understood immediately. Four mechanical tentacles extended from behind him, manipulating the moonlight to pass through the prism once again, refracting the beam directly onto Venom's body.
"I don't like moonlight," Venom hissed as the light hit him. Layers of shroud-like bandages began to wrap around the surface of the pitch-black symbiote. "And I don't like being some Robin."
The shroud wound around him to form a suit, but Venom's body did not revert to Robin's size of around 1.4 meters. Instead, he maintained a height of nearly three meters, matching the Hulk.
"Hulk, let him go," Batman said to the Green Goliath, who immediately released his death grip on Venom's hands.
Batman took a few steps forward, stopping less than three meters away from Venom.
"Change back." Batman's voice was low, his eyes locked dead on Venom. "Or I will help you."
Venom couldn't help but take a half-step back. He looked at Batman, then at the Hulk eyeing him aggressively from the side, and finally at Doctor Otto on the moonlight platform.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Venom's body deflated rapidly, shrinking from a majestic three-meter physique back to the appearance of a 1.4-meter boy.
"Robin, I need to perform a psychiatric evaluation on you."
As soon as Robin appeared, Batman spoke to him.
"Old Bat, what happened just now?" Venom-Robin looked bewildered.
Batman gave him a deep look but said nothing.
Since Batman remained silent, Doctor Otto and the others naturally didn't explain the situation to Robin either.
A series of soft popping sounds came from the Hulk's body as he reverted to Doctor Banner, wearing only a pair of loose, large shorts. He quickly put on his shirt, jacket, and white lab coat.
North Brother Island.
The island's forest was pitch black, with only the occasional beam of moonlight piercing the dense foliage to cast pale, ghostly spots on the ground.
Norman Osborn sat on the ground with his back against a thick tree trunk, clutching a bag of food in his arms.
Eyes wide open, he listened to the rustling of insects and the flapping wings of nocturnal birds hunting in the dark.
He even heard—and he didn't know if it was an illusion—waves of strange hissing sounds.
During the day, Norman Osborn had traveled less than two kilometers through the woods.
Within that mere two-kilometer range, he had discovered three long-weathered animal skeletons and a pile of bones that were very likely human.
Furthermore, aside from birds and insects, Norman Osborn found no traces of any other animals.
No footprints, no feces, no fur, no scents... nothing.
At first, Norman Osborn tried to comfort himself by thinking his range of movement was too small and he just hadn't stepped into areas with animal activity yet.
But as night fell and that strange hissing sound emerged, Norman Osborn suspected that it wasn't that there were no animals on the island, but rather that there was an extremely ferocious beast.
It could be a giant python, or perhaps a tiger. The presence of that beast was exactly why there were no traces of other animals.
Norman Osborn leaned towards the theory of a giant python.
"How can I survive?" Norman Osborn asked himself.
He was a bit hungry, but he didn't dare eat, fearing the sound would attract the python.
He curled his body into a ball to minimize heat loss, also to avoid attracting the python.
But as time passed, the hissing became clearer, and Norman Osborn couldn't help but shiver.
He looked up at the dark canopy and decided to spend the night in the tree. That way, even if the python slithered over, he could move positions using the branches.
Plus, come daylight, he could stand on the high branches to observe the surroundings.
Once resolved, Norman Osborn didn't hesitate. He clenched the bag in his teeth and grabbed the trunk with both hands and feet, slowly attempting to climb.
But problems immediately arose: even with the bark providing friction, climbing a tree was far less simple than Norman Osborn had imagined.
He couldn't even make it up one meter; as soon as he lifted one foot, the other would slide down, over and over again.
The woods were pitch black, and dry twigs littered the ground; moving around carelessly would inevitably make noise.
With this concern in mind, Norman Osborn couldn't even switch to a slightly thinner tree to climb.
He could only curl up into a ball again, hugging the food to his chest. Keeping his eyes wide open, he reminisced about the experiences of the first half of his life, forcibly enduring until dawn broke.
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