After leaving Popclaw’s apartment, the Deep got back into his car.
It was a yellow and black Chevrolet Camaro, just like Bumblebee from *Transformers*.
Equipped with a 6.2-liter V8 engine, it was a classic American muscle car.
The Deep propped his feet up on the steering wheel, lit a cigarette, and stared at his left hand.
Two bone spurs had abruptly protruded from his knuckles.
The spurs were as white as jade and slightly curved, measuring about fifteen centimeters in length.
With just a thought, he could control them to extend or retract at will.
Flicking away his cigarette butt, the Deep exhaled a cloud of smoke.
The swirling haze only made him look more like a playboy drifting through life.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he bared his abdomen.
The Deep pressed the bone spurs of his left hand against his lower abdomen, tensed his muscles, and slowly pushed inward.
He wanted to test how sharp his bone spurs were, and whether they could pierce his own A-grade physical defense.
There was no clash of the ultimate spear against the ultimate shield, nor any cataclysmic collision.
Instead, they slid in like a hot knife through tofu.
With just a gentle nudge of his left hand, the bone spur easily bypassed his body’s defenses, piercing clean through his kidney.
Blood trickled steadily from the puncture wounds.
*That’s it?* The Deep stared in disbelief.
Thanks to Queen Maeve’s relentless pounding over the past few days, he wasn’t sure how much his physical strength had actually increased, but his pain tolerance was definitely off the charts.
After all, he had dared to provoke her even with half his ribs broken.
Having skewered his own kidney, the Deep simply pulled the spurs out, clutched his stomach, and let the two puncture wounds slowly heal on their own.
Looking back at the spurs on his left hand, the jade-white bone was now stained with crimson, giving off an eerie, seductive glow.
Blood dripped slowly along the tips.
The more he looked at the two bone spurs, the more he loved them.
*Bring Homie here!
I told you to bring Homie here!*
If an A-grade body was as fragile as paper before these bone spurs, what about an SSS+ grade body?
Before this, he wouldn’t have dared to harbor even a single rebellious thought toward Homelander.
But at this very moment, a vision of himself stabbing clean through Homelander flashed across his mind.
The Deep quickly shook his head, banishing the image.
In this world, merely thinking such thoughts could get you killed.
He was walking on thin ice.
To keep anyone from discovering he had acquired Starlight’s superpower, he had never used his light blasts in front of a living soul.
He even had to retreat to his car and park in a blind spot for surveillance cameras before he dared to manifest the bone spurs.
And to test their sharpness, he only dared to experiment on his own body.
This time, it was an unexpected harvest.
He hadn’t actually taken Popclaw seriously, nor had he intended to do anything to her.
His goal in coming here wasn’t Compound V either; he was targeting the mute girl lurking behind the scenes—Kimiko.
When it came to the strongest self-healing ability in the universe of *The Boys*, Kimiko reigned supreme.
Anyone else, even someone as powerful as Homelander, wasn’t fit to lick her boots in the department of regeneration.
Even if she were beaten into a pulp of mangled meat, she could still piece herself back together.
Staring at his bone-hardening ability, the Deep was reminded of an anime character: Kimimaro.
Seeing Kimimaro for the first time back in the day had given his younger self quite a massive shock.
Especially the move where he pulled out his own spine to use as a sword.
Even though the Deep had long outgrown his chuunibyou phase, he still found it incredibly cool, cool enough to rule heaven and earth.
Although he couldn’t see his exact numerical stats, a physical feature on his body gave him a clear indication of his growth.
His gills.
Lifting his shirt, he saw that his gills had shrunk to half their original size.
This change had first occurred when he obtained Starlight’s power.
The gills on his ribs were his absolute weakness.
Just like a fish, if anyone grabbed them, he would be completely paralyzed.
He had inherited this defect perfectly.
His gills couldn’t even withstand the attack of an ordinary human.
If someone shoved a hand inside them, it was like having his lifeblood squeezed.
He would be at their mercy instantly.
An increase in physical defense made the gills shrink.
Since they had shrunk a bit more this time, the Deep knew his stats must have increased again.
As for when he could completely evolve those gills away, he estimated it would take an S-grade or SS-grade physical strength.
Which meant he’d have to…
Queen Maeve…
Heheh.
Speak of the devil.
His phone rang.
It was Maeve.
“My Queen,” the Deep greeted.
Maeve snorted on the other end.
“Call me Maeve.”
“Sure thing, my Queen.”
“You worthless piece of trash!
A glutton for punishment!” Maeve vented over the phone.
The Deep silently bore her wrath.
He could tell Queen Maeve was incredibly frustrated right now.
“Deep, where are you right now?
Come to my office immediately.
I need to train you hard.”
*No, you just want to use me as a punching bag.*
Steering with one hand as he drove toward New York Bay, the Deep said, “I’m out handling some business.
I’ll be back in a bit.
Why don’t you get your old trainers to fill in first?”
*Do you think I haven’t tried?*
But now that she was used to the Deep’s durability, how could those ordinary humans satisfy her?
She was terrified of crushing them to death with a single finger.
“Deep!
You ruined my tolerance for ordinary humans!” Maeve said with gritted teeth.
“Find me the moment you get back.
I’m training you all night long today.”
The Deep drove to New York Bay, dove into the ocean, and had a quick chat with some harbor porpoises.
He then dove deep down.
When he resurfaced, he had a box in his hand.
A zinc-lined box, at that.