The Pitt's biggest mistake was picking on The Rosebloods when they were The Typhoon's only allies. Although Bakugou cared very little for this 'elite' group, the privateer had been itching for war and battle. He remembered the call, the request for crewmate to come to The Rosebloods' aid at once. One can only imagine the creeping, sharklike smile which spread along his lips and pressed against his cheeks. His eyes were on fire. From the far distance the ragdoll, oozing in black smoke from his body and fiery tail, saw the illumination of firecrackers detonating. The pitched shrill of explosions didn't faze him, not even wincing at the sheer volume of the spiritless sound. The coals in his belly churn in a raging excitement, reminding him that at any moment he was willing to breathe a ferocious heat and melt the fur off anyone who dared to smirk at him. Pitifully enough, it already appears that The Pitt was outnumbered by The Rosebloods alone but Bakugou continued to approach in his disgusting pride and glory, a superiority radiating from the condescending look which painted his cream features.

Imagine their reaction once everyone else in The Typhoon had got here. Would they tuck tails and run? It would be foolish for them to continue trying - unnecessary injuries and deaths would occur. At the same time, it would be so shameful for them to flee after having seemingly built up so much confidence that they even reveal their position through the flurry of a display. It was a loss-loss situation. Fools, they were. Fools. "THE TYPHOON IS HERE," Bakugou roars as he approaches. Or at least, The Typhoon was getting here. He isn't sure how exactly the news got to Pincher so fast, maybe an envoy or a little birdie who had noticed the irregularities on the way back, but he doesn't care. He's here to help defend their so-called allies.