As The Deep In The Boys

After a good evening, Kevin waited for the first package to arrive. He took the crate of fish from the surprised delivery driver and called a cargo taxi to take him as close as possible to the abandoned beach. 

Of course, The Deep didn't need a car to carry the crate, which felt light to him, but running through a quiet town with a bulky container on his back would definitely attract unwanted attention. 

Lost in these thoughts, Kevin ignored the truck driver and single-handedly loaded his package. 

Only when the older man stepped away from his unusual client did he climb into the cab and sit next to him.

"Alright, let's go," Kevin said cheerfully, turning to the man.

"Uh, right," the man said, finally snapping out of his daze and starting the engine.

They quickly reached the outskirts of the beach. Kevin unloaded his package, waited for the driver to leave, and then headed towards the sea. 

As he descended the rise to the water, the head of a familiar dolphin emerged.

"Hey, Peter!" The Deep waved happily to his rescuer, carefully placing the container on the sand.

"Hey, Kevin!" the dolphin replied, even jumping out of the water a few times in anticipation of the fish.

"I've come to fulfill yesterday's promise," The Deep said, patting the crate and starting to unlatch it.

"Is there a lot?" Peter's joyful voice called from the ocean.

"A whole lot! And I'll be bringing this much for the next few days," The Deep answered with a smile, feeling the waves of happiness and positivity emanating from his friend.

"Then I'll have to invite my other friends," the dolphin said, tracking Kevin's every move, so eager he looked like he might try to walk on land himself.

"Catch!" The Deep shouted, finally opening the container. The sight of the fish made him feel a little hungry himself, reminding him of yesterday's sushi.

"Yummy!" Peter said with extreme satisfaction, swallowing the first mackerel.

"You like it that much?" Kevin asked, sitting on the edge of the container.

"A lot! It's especially tasty, and it doesn't wiggle," the dolphin said happily, describing the main advantages of his breakfast.

"Should I wait for you to call your friends?" Kevin asked, looking at the dolphin.

"N-no, I think it would be better to call them tomorrow," the dolphin stammered, embarrassed.

"Ha-ha, okay, I get it. Here's another one," The Deep laughed, tossing another mackerel to his flustered friend.

This continued for some time until the stuffed dolphin, seemingly to no one in particular, asked a question.

"Why didn't those other people have such tasty fish? I'm sure any of my friends would have let them install their trackers for a few of these mackerels."

"I don't know, maybe they spent their whole budget on the trackers themselves. It's a high-tech device, after all..." Towards the end of the sentence, Kevin's voice grew quieter and quieter as the thoughts in his head grew louder.

Talking about trackers, he suddenly remembered that Vought also implanted them in its most valuable assets so they could know where their "superheroes" were at all times. 

The thought made Kevin turn pale, but then he remembered his situation and realized that no one was likely tracking his movements 24/7. 

Even if someone had noticed his sudden jumps, they probably just wrote them off as satellite glitches.

Confused by his plummeting and then returning mood, he tried to remember where his tracker was. 

A moment later, a memory surfaced, providing yet another confirmation of his extreme durability. Even the Vought technicians couldn't damage his skin, so they had to get creative. 

Using painful dilators, they had opened his gills and made an incision inside, into which the tracker was inserted. 

Knowing its location, Kevin stood up from the sand, unzipped his suit, and tried to feel for the small lump inside his respiratory organ. 

The sensation was unimaginable, but he continued his inspection, and after a few minutes that felt like torture, he finally found the beacon.

The discovery brought a wave of joy, which lasted right up until the moment he realized he had no way to get it out. 

Images of a knife moving freely through his body without causing any damage immediately came to mind.

His mood soured again as he thought about the problem. He definitely didn't want anyone knowing his location 24/7, but removing the chip himself seemed, to put it mildly, unlikely. 

And the plans to restore his reputation that he'd started to form after getting the fruit depended on his ability to travel quickly between Sandusky and New York. 

He racked his brain, rejecting one crazy idea after another. One involved asking a certain infamous Frenchman who had a way with supes to remove the Vought tracker. 

But he quickly discarded that thought; asking a supe-killer for such a favor would more likely get him a personal gill-bomb, turning him into an unwilling weapon for The Boys. 

Of course, he could rely on the power of his Logia, but if his power considered the tracker part of his body, it was better not to take any chances.

Pacing back and forth on the beach, Kevin decided to test a theory. He waded ankle-deep into the water, bent down, pulled off one of his gloves, and scooped up some water in his hand. 

A second later, he felt a weakness that sapped his supe strength but still allowed him to stand. 

He turned his hand over, letting the water run back into the ocean, then pointed his finger at the sand behind him and tried to use his powers. 

After a minute of fruitless attempts, he smiled. He had found a way to get rid of the powerful, but currently inconvenient, aspect of his new gift.

Figuring out the right amount of seawater he'd need for his experiments, Kevin said goodbye to the dolphin and sprinted at top speed to the nearest gas station to buy a few bottles of water.