Flashback:

The sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the dusty street. Park Taejoon, a skinny eleven-year-old, skipped beside his older brother, Park Solomon, a confident teenager with a mischievous glint in his eyes. They were almost home, laughing about a silly joke shared during school.

Suddenly, a group of rough-looking boys emerged from an alley, blocking their path. The air crackled with menace. "Hand over your valuables, brats," growled the leader, a boy with a scarred cheek.

Solomon stepped forward, his expression hardening. "Don't even think about it."

A scuffle ensued. Solomon, fueled by a protective instinct, moved with surprising speed and agility. He dodged punches, blocked kicks, and disarmed the leader with a swift move Taejoon had never seen before. The other boys, intimidated, backed away.

But their victory was short-lived. A black van screeched to a halt, and burly men emerged, their faces hidden under balaclavas. Before Solomon could react, they grabbed him, throwing him into the van and speeding away, leaving Taejoon alone, his screams lost in the fading light.

Present:

Soloman led his brother and Minho to a secluded warehouse, its vast space dimly lit. Taejoon, still reeling from the shock of the reunion, looked around cautiously.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"A safe place," Solomon replied, his tone guarded. "Where we can talk."

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Minho, ever the pragmatist, cleared his throat. "Talk about what? And what happened to you all those years ago?"

Solomon took a deep breath, his gaze distant. "I... I was taken. Sold. Trained. Turned into a weapon." His voice grew hard. "But I escaped, and I've been waiting for this moment, for revenge."

Taejoon felt a shiver run down his spine. He had always admired his brother's strength, but this new darkness in him was unsettling. "Revenge for what?"

"For everything," Solomon said, his eyes blazing with fury. "For the Rising Suns, for their cruelty, for taking my freedom… for taking you."

Taejoon stared at him, his heart pounding. "But I... I'm alive. You saved me."

"No, Taejoon," Solomon corrected, his voice thick with emotion. "I failed you. I wasn't strong enough to protect you."

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words and buried pain. Minho, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "So, uh, what now? Are we joining your gang of motorcycle-riding ninjas?"

Solomon chuckled, a rare sound that softened his features. "Something like that," he admitted. "But first, we need to get you out of Ansan. It's too dangerous here."

Meanwhile, in Ansan:

Taesuk, the eldest son of the Rising Suns' leader, returned from his training abroad. He was a man of steely determination, his eyes harboring a cold fire. His subordinates rushed to meet him, their faces grim.

"Lord Taesuk," one of them stammered, "there's been trouble. Park Solomon has returned and attacked the police station. He freed his brother and a friend."

Taesuk's grip tightened on the hilt of his katana. "Park Solomon? The one who vanished years ago?"

"Yes, Lord. He's become… powerful. He defeated hundreds of our men with ease."

Taesuk's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Interesting. It seems things are getting more… entertaining."

He strode towards the police station, leaving a trail of terrified whispers in his wake. Inside, the scene was one of carnage. Officers lay dead, their blood staining the floor. Taesuk surveyed the destruction with a detached amusement.

"Leave the bodies," he commanded. "And find Park Solomon. He won't escape me again."

With a flourish, he drew his katana, its gleaming blade reflecting the bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes. The hunt was on, and Ansan would tremble in its wake.

End of Chapter 4