“Ow!
Ow!
Ow!
Queen, I was wrong!
I won’t try to get fresh with you anymore, okay?”
“So you admit your little tricks?”
Maeve looked at the man she was squeezing into absolute misery.
He was begging for mercy in a low, submissive voice, yet why did it make her want to laugh?
Maeve didn’t keep her hand inside his gills for long.
She quickly pulled it out because she wasn’t sure if The Deep’s gills had self-healing capabilities, and she didn’t want to actually cripple him.
The Deep was still the same old Deep—vulgar, dirty, perverted, and shameless—but at some point, the Deep who used to disgust Maeve had slowly become somewhat endearing.
“I saw Homelander kill someone again.”
Without any build-up or warning, Maeve directly revealed the reason for her low mood today.
“He blew open a robber’s stomach with a single punch.
Guts spilled all over the floor.
The robber didn’t have to die; he just wanted his unpaid wages, which is why he held his boss hostage.”
Maeve’s voice was low and despondent.
Her long eyebrows trembled slightly, and a hint of sorrow touched her beautiful burgundy eyes.
At this moment, she was no longer the noble, proud Amazon Queen, but just a little girl who wanted to be held and comforted.
The Deep could pretty much understand Maeve’s pain.
It was the torment of being stuck in the villain camp while still retaining a sliver of conscience, forced to comply under the villain boss’s terrifying power.
The conflict between her actions and her morals triggered soul-searching trials in her heart.
The Deep never simplified humanity into inherently good or inherently evil.
Humans were a contradiction of both.
They possessed an innate selfishness to seek benefits and avoid harm, but they also felt pity and compassion for the weak.
It was just that after witnessing the darkness, some chose to help the tiger, while others chose to rebel.
But The Deep was different.
When he looked at Homelander, his only thought was: *I can replace him.*
Maeve lowered her head, looking at the man who was using her lap as a pillow, her gaze focusing on his face.
She carefully studied every angle of his features.
No matter how much Maeve disliked The Deep in her heart, she had to admit that when this man wasn’t acting vulgar, he was very handsome.
He looked like an elven prince, carrying a trace of melancholy within his noble air.
Maeve loved his lake-blue eyes the most.
They were clean and clear, like the deep blue waters beneath the Antarctic glaciers, mysterious and profound.
A bizarre urge rose in Maeve’s heart—she wanted to lick The Deep’s eyes with the tip of her tongue.
As for her venting, to be honest, Maeve had never expected any comfort or validation from him.
In Maeve’s eyes, The Deep had simply upgraded from a useless coward to a useless coward who could take a beating.
But looking at such a handsome face, with his brows knit together, seriously trying to think despite his completely empty head, was really quite cute!
When those deep blue eyes suddenly looked up at her, Maeve felt a strange surge of guilt and quickly averted her gaze.
Could he have sensed her perverted thoughts?
*I was only thinking about it.
I haven’t done it yet.
Am I not even allowed to think?*
What answered Maeve was a question in response.
“Maeve, if you had spoken up to stop him, would Homelander have let that robber go?”
“Are you kidding?” Maeve let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“If I had begged for that robber, Homelander would have only tortured and killed him more brutally.
He has never viewed ordinary humans as his own kind…”
Maeve’s eyes suddenly dimmed as she added despondently, “…and that includes you and me.
From beginning to end, he has only ever viewed himself as the one true god.”
“Well, there you go.” The Deep clapped his hands together and said carelessly, “Since that robber was doomed to die anyway, why torture yourself over someone else’s mistake?”
Maeve looked at him in surprise.
Hearing such words come out of The Deep’s mouth truly shocked her.
Her elegant brows knitted together.
She seemed to grasp something, yet she was still struggling with it.
She murmured, “But he still died right in front of me.”
The Deep smiled and asked, “Maeve, what do you think I would think if I were in your position?”
Maeve looked at him, biting her full lower lip.
The Deep showed a completely carefree expression and grinned.
“As long as I have no morals, morality can’t kidnap me.”
*Huh?* Maeve’s pupils shrank, and an expression of utter disbelief appeared on her face.
*Yep!
That’s very Deep.
Pure scumbag logic.*
But thinking deeper, Maeve couldn’t help but envy his carefree attitude.
If she could, she wanted to be like him too.
The Deep said no more, only shouting, “Maeve!
I want a drink.”
*BANG!*
A sharp pain shot through The Deep’s right ribs, and he went flying once again.
Maeve tapped her toe and launched herself into the air, landing right beside him with a grin.
Clasping her hands into a double fist, she delivered a heavy hammer blow to his back, smashing him back down to the ground.
The soft mats on the floor shattered instantly upon impact, and even the reinforced concrete beneath them was smashed into a crater.
The Deep lay quietly in the center of the crater, feeling slightly dead.
It had been a long time since The Deep had to crawl out of Maeve’s office.
Tonight, he had the privilege of being battered to this miserable state once more.
“Hey!
I’ll dare to do it again next time!” The Deep grinned at Maeve.
Maeve almost grabbed him by the ankle to drag him back into the training hall.
After watching him leave, Maeve closed the door.
She closed her eyes and smacked her lips.
As her saliva flowed, it felt as if The Deep’s scent still lingered in her mouth.
…
The Deep crawled back to his own office.
Fortunately, it was already late at night, and no one saw his pathetic state.
He went into the bathroom, stripped off his combat suit, filled the bathtub to the brim, and submerged his entire body.
His bloody, battered body began to heal at a visible rate.
As the Son of the Sea, his recovery speed in water was fifty percent faster than usual.
He felt his broken bones knit back together and his flesh regenerate.
Then, he heard a soft patter of footsteps.
The Deep opened his eyes and saw a cute girl wearing a pink silk slip nightgown.
She was pouting, looking at him in the bathtub with deep worry.
“Why are you back so late?
Why did Maeve hit you so hard today?”
Enduring the pain in his body, The Deep gave Starlight a bright smile and comforted her, “It’s fine.
I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
Starlight didn’t say a word.
She raised a finger and gently slid the thin strap off her smooth shoulder.
The sound of silk sliding to the floor echoed in the quiet room.
Covering herself with her hands, the young girl took delicate, tiny steps and climbed into the bathtub.
She came up behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and signaled for him to lean back, letting him rest against her body.
Her moist lips brushed against the back of his ear.
As her delicate hands stirred the clear water, she whispered breathlessly, “Mr.
Deep, your sin value is very high today!”
The Deep’s breath hitched, utterly surprised by her sudden boldness.
“Starlight, you…”
His ear was teased by Starlight’s tongue, a ticklish sensation like a cotton swab swirling inside.
Beside his ear came the girl’s shy, low whisper, “Tonight…
tonight I am a fallen angel.”