The training field was quiet now—just the soft thrum of recovery bots cleaning up the mess left by the latest sparring session. Everyone was either cooling down or heading back inside.

Everyone except Denki Kaminari—who was grinning wide and surrounded by a small group of students, recounting his over-the-top “victory” during a mock battle.

“And then I was like, ‘Zap zap, baby!’ and the whole platform blew up under their feet—clean shot!”

Bakugo, standing a few meters away, clenched his jaw.

“Tch.”

With zero ceremony, he marched across the field, grabbed Kaminari by the collar, and yanked him away from the group.

“Hey! Whoa, bro—what the heck?!” Kaminari squawked as he stumbled to keep up with Bakugo’s iron grip.

Bakugo dragged him behind a support pillar, out of sight. He let go, shoving Kaminari lightly against it.

“You trying to get dumber, Sparky?” Bakugo growled.

Kaminari blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Bakugo pointed a sharp finger at his chest. “You blew half your juice showing off for that fake win, and you looked like a damn cartoon character after. That’s not battle strategy. That’s stage magic for idiots.”