A Young Beast

The story begins with Jang Heon-su a young Korean-American living in San Francisco. Outside his modest home, nestled among the hilly streets,Heon-su practices his Taekwondo skills with fierce determination. He fights a training mannequin, his movements sharp and calculated, the sound of each powerful strike echoing through the neighborhood.

Heon punches, kicks, and tosses the mannequin until it finally falls apart, shattered into pieces. He stands, breath heavy, but a grin spreads across his face. For a brief moment, the weight of his struggles back in school seems far away. Outside, the fog rolls in, adding an almost cinematic quality to the scene, but inside, tensions are mounting.

In the house, Heon's grandfather, Jang Min-Jun, a man who has weathered the struggles of both immigration and raising his grandson in a foreign land, sits with Heon's teacher, Mr. Johnson, a stern figure who is clearly worried about the boy's future.

"It's the ninth time this month, Sir," Mr. Johnson begins, his voice tinged with frustration. "A student has ended up in the hospital because of Heon's outbursts. There's never been a case like this before. His behavior is outrageous, and it's only a matter of time before something much worse happens."

Heon's grandfather, doesn't flinch. His expression is one of quiet determination. "My grandson is not violent, Mr. Johnson," he says in a thick voice. "He's protecting the vulnerable people from bad guys. It's the same thing he's been doing since we came here, when no one would give us a chance. He learned Taekwondo to defend himself and others, to make sure no one would push him around like we were pushed around."

Mr. Johnson sighs, rubbing his temples. "I understand that. But this isn't just about defense anymore. The way he's using his skills is damaging to himself and others. He needs discipline, a school that can help him channel his strength. The boy is like A Walking Disaster who protects people from getting bullied. But ends up damaging his reputation."

Min-Jun looks out the window, his eyes lingering on his grandson in the yard, still standing proudly over the shattered mannequin. "Maybe he's not just a fighter. Maybe, in a world that doesn't understand us, he's finding a way to be heard. You don't see the bigger picture, Mr. Johnson. Heon is not like the others. His fight is not just physical. One day, the world will know him, and they'll understand."

The weight of Min-Jun's words hangs in the air. His experience as a Korean, as someone who fought to carve a space for his family in a new land, makes him see Heonsu's actions in a different light. He believes his grandson has the power to change the narrative.

Heon enters the house and gets a drink of water after beating the mannequin. He sits down and does his homework.

His teacher shakes his head and says "Sir, I think it's time for Heon to go. He can't study in our school if he continues to injure students." He says with a disappointed face.

Min-Jun nods in agreement as he's already used to this "Yeah I know. It's the 16th time he's transferred to another school 2 years after we moved to this country. Look at him, working Harding for a good education but still gets suspended for protecting the vulnerable." He said

Mr. Johnson nods in agreement, standing up from his chair with a resigned sigh. "Have a good one, Sir. Hope you can find a better school for him," he says, his voice heavy with finality as he heads toward the door.

Min-Jun doesn't respond, his eyes still focused on the distant figure of Heon, who's now lost in his homework, the weight of the conversation settling heavily in the room. Mr. Johnson steps outside, his footsteps faint against the stillness of the evening, and moves toward his car parked along the curb.

Just as Mr. Johnson reaches his vehicle, something catches his eye. A shadow darting across the street. His jaw drops as he realizes, in an instant, the truth. The car door is wide open. Someone's inside.

"My car!" Mr. Johnson yells, his voice rising in panic. His hands fly to his pockets, but there's no time to react. Before he can even reach for his phone, the thief slams the door shut and speeds off, tires screeching against the wet pavement.

The sound is deafening. Mr. Johnson stands frozen for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief. Then the frustration kicks in, his fists clenching at his sides. He starts to run, but his legs feel like lead. His car—gone, in seconds.

Inside the house, Heon's head snaps up at the sound of the car speeding off. Without thinking, his body reacts. The adrenaline coursing through his veins from the earlier fight surges again. He bolts out the door, heart pounding in his chest, not fully understanding why he's doing it—only that he needs to act.

"Grandpa!" he shouts, but Min-Jun doesn't answer. The street outside is already dark, and the echoes of the stolen car's engine are fading into the distance. Heon doesn't hesitate. He runs.

His legs move faster than they ever have, his body propelled by the same intense focus he'd used earlier on the mannequin. He pushes through the familiar streets of the neighborhood, dodging pedestrians and cars in his path, the sound of his own breathing drowning out everything else.

For a moment, it's as if the world slows down. Heon's focus narrows. He can see the car now, a few blocks ahead, swerving through the narrow streets with reckless abandon. The thief doesn't look back.

The chase is on.

Fueled by determination. Heon runs as fast as normal trying to Catch up with the car. When the thief looks behind he realizes he's being chased.

The thief smiles and just continues driving unaware that the kid can stop the car with ease. Heon brings out his skateboard and uses it to chase the car and then the thief realizes that he's not stopping. He throws some items at the kid but Heon Jumps kicks them back at the car with ease and one pencil even hit one of the wheels.

The Thief stops the car and runs with Mr Johnson's belongings but Heon chases after the thief and throws a rock at the thief and hits him.

The Thief huffs and inhales as he reaches a dead end, he's tired and injured. "No more chasing. Kid." He says while breathing heavily. He takes out $100 from Mr. Johnson's wallet and says "Take this $100 and buy candies"

Heon shakes his head and points at Mr Johnson's belongings signaling that he wants that.

The thief pulls out his gun and says "You leave me no choice. Kid." He says as he points the Gun at Heon.

But, Heon doesn't look back but just smiles. Instead of fear, a calm smile spread across

Heon's face. He stood his ground, unwavering.

Confusion flickered in the thief's eyes as he hesitated, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the sound of sirens pierced the air, growing louder by the second. In a flash, police cars surrounded the scene, officers leaping from their vehicles with authority.

"Drop the weapon!" one officer shouted, rushing forward. In a swift motion, they disarmed the thief, yanking the gun from his grasp and pinning him to the ground.

Heon watched as the thief was handcuffed, a mix of relief and triumph washing over him. He had faced danger head-on and emerged victorious, not just for himself, but for Mr. Johnson. As the officers gathered the stolen belongings, Heon felt a sense of pride swell within him. He had proven that courage and determination could overcome even the most daunting challenges.

Mr. Johnson sprinted across the streets like his legs were powered by panic.

"MY BABY!" he screamed, arms wide like he was charging into the arms of a long-lost lover.

He dove toward his silver Kia, wrapping himself around it in a trembling hug.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm here now. It's okay. Daddy's here," he whispered,

He turned slowly and locked eyes with Heon still catching his breath from the tackle that had taken down the thief.

Mr. Johnson narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, fine," he said to Heon. "But  if you pull one more mess, Heon... I won't be this friendly again."

Heon smiles and nods before turning, and walking into the wind like a silent action hero — bruised, dirty, but unshaken.

Because when there's trouble... he's always there.

Even if it wrecks his reputation all over again.

This is the story of "A Young Beast"

A bruised and handcuffed man who recently stole Mr Johnson's car sat in the back of a police van, quietly messaging on a cracked phone.

"Sorry boss. The boy got away."

Back in the city, Papa Scar real name Jeremy punches a wall with full force causing it to fall. He sits down and reads the message, flickering ceiling light. His knuckles were still red from punching a wall but he doesn't even know what pain is.

His eyes narrowed. His scar twisted.

In one sudden roar, he flipped the coffee table across the room, sending coffee mugs and magazines flying. One coffee mug even hit a criminal named Laksh at the face while he was blow drying his hair.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" Laksh said

But as Papa Scar stormed forward, his hand landed on something soft — a small stuffed bear wearing a bow tie.

He paused. His breath slowed.

Papa Scar closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Very well..." he growled. "I'll deal with the boy myself next week."

He cracked his knuckles, staring at the stuffed bear.

"Tell the boys to train harder. If we're gonna crush him... we do it smoother than MJ's Smooth Criminal."

He says as he continues stroking the stuffed bear