Jinx: The Secret ㊙️ Doctor’s Jinx 👄

In the world of Jinx, superstition often masks deep psychological wounds. Readers are well aware of Joo Jaekyung’s belief in a hex: (chapter 2) his ritualistic sex before fights, his fear of losing control, (chapter 5) his reliance on routine. Yet there is another jinx in this story, one far less visible and perhaps even more tragic: Kim Dan’s.

In earlier analyses—particularly in the essay “Jinxed: Behind The Scenes 🎬” I stated that Kim Dan, like Joo Jaekyung, might have perceived his life as cursed. This conclusion emerged from his grim familial and financial circumstances: his overwork, exploitation by the loan shark, and his identity eroded by relentless sacrifice. At that time, the interpretation leaned heavily on visible hardships and his devotion to his grandmother. His silent plea (chapter 1) was seen as the core expression of a man who believed he was doomed.

However, Season 2 invites a more nuanced reading. I came to realize that Kim Dan never consciously viewed himself as jinxed. (chapter 56) In Chapter 56, Kim Dan is seen curled up next to a bed, whispering: “I’m scared… of being alone.” What makes this moment especially revealing is that he is not physically alone, for he is resting next to his grandmother. The presence of the very person who raised him should, in theory, offer comfort. And yet, the fear persists.

This contrast underscores the depth of Kim Dan’s emotional wound. His fear isn’t simply about being left in the future — it’s the echo of a past abandonment so profound that even proximity can’t soothe it. His grandmother is alive, mere steps away, yet his body curls into itself, instinctively shielding against an absence that has already been internalized.

That he doesn’t say “I’m scared of being abandoned” or “of being jinxed” shows that this fear hasn’t been processed into words or reason. It’s not part of his conscious self-concept. Unlike the celebrity, who ritualizes his fear as a “jinx” and tries to control it through actions, Kim Dan’s trauma remains trapped in silence. He doesn’t believe he is cursed — not on the surface. But emotionally, he lives as if he were. The hex exists, not in his language, but in his body.

His whispered fear in the dark — “I’m scared… of being alone” — is the clearest window into his hidden jinx. And perhaps the most heartbreaking part is this: he voices it not, when he is abandoned, but when someone is still there. That’s how deep the fear runs. (chapter 21) And this issue didn’t begin in adulthood. In Chapter 21, Kim Dan dreams of a night from his childhood: he wakes up alone, glances around the room in quiet confusion, and softly calls out for his grandmother. The room is dim, the bed beside him empty. This image carries more than just childhood anxiety: (chapter 21) It weaves together absence, silence, and the specter of loss. What’s striking is that the nightmare surfaces, not when he’s alone in the present, but after he has just returned from watching over his hospitalized grandmother. (chapter 21) He lies on the couch and dreams of a night when she vanished from their shared bed. (chapter 21) This reveals how, in Kim Dan’s subconscious, the night and an empty bed have become synonymous with death. The trauma is deeply embedded, where even temporary absence is tied to the irreversibility of loss. For Kim Dan, solitude at night (chapter 67) is not mere loneliness—it is abandonment, it is death, it is the erasure of home. It is repressed, hidden beneath his quiet demeanor and years of survival-based behavior. Rather than a rational belief, it is a subconscious wound that only surfaces in moments of extreme vulnerability—especially at night.

So while Joo Jaekyung’s curse is shouted and choreographed (chapter 2), the doctor’s is secret and involuntary. His actions—his fearful expressions (chapter 57), his pattern of emotional detachment (chapter 67), and his obsessive loyalty to his grandmother (chapter 10) signal a suppressed conviction: that he is destined to be left behind. What seemed like devotion now appears as coping; what appeared stoic was survival. And with the impending death of his grandmother, the anchor holding this hidden jinx in place is slipping away.

A Jinx Rooted in the Night

The key lies in the night. The most pivotal emotional regressions in Kim Dan’s life happen after dark. Whether it is the first night with Joo Jaekyung in Chapter 2 (chapter 2), the trembling kiss (chapter 44) and touch (chapter 44) in Chapter 44, the complete breakdown (chapter 66) in Chapter 66, or the transactional submission (chapter 67) in Chapter 67, nighttime becomes the stage for his unresolved trauma. These nights mirror one another and suggest an origin story that predates them all: a night when Kim Dan was abandoned by his mother.

This theory is supported by visual cues and character behavior. In Chapter 56, Kim Dan curls into himself in bed, unable to sleep. He admits silently, “I’m scared… of being alone.” That fear is not adult anxiety—it’s childhood terror. (chapter 56) The body language, the shadows, the loneliness—they evoke the image of a small child who once cried through the night, waiting for someone who never returned.

Kim Dan’s actions echo those of someone who was left too early—possibly around the age of six. Psychologists describe this stage as a turning point in emotional development. If a caregiver vanishes at that time, the child internalizes the absence as a personal fault. He grows up believing that love is conditional, that if he’s quiet, obedient, invisible—maybe no one else will leave.

Mingwa subtly ties this back to animal behavior through the inclusion of puppies. (chapter 57) A puppy needs at least eight weeks with its mother to grow emotionally secure. By drawing this parallel (chapter 59), the story tells us: Kim Dan was separated too soon. He was not ready.

The Role of the Grandmother: A Talisman, Not a Cure

Kim Dan’s grandmother became his emotional anchor: (chapter 47) the one person whose presence could keep the jinx at bay. As long as she was there, he could suppress the trauma, function, survive. She was his talisman. But she was never a healer, for she never spoke about his parents. She never addressed the core of his abandonment, like we could witness in the doctor’s nightmare: (chapter 57) And silence, when it comes to trauma, does not protect—it festers.

Her infantilization of him is also telling. (chapter 53) (chapter 65) One might argue about this, for in this scene, (Chapter 56) he tucks her in. Their roles are reversed. He behaves like a parent, whereas in truth, he is reverting emotionally to a child terrified of being alone. This reversal highlights the internal dissonance between his outward behavior and emotional reality. Though he was forced to grow up quickly (chapter 65), he still carries the emotional wounds of a child. And from my point of view, the grandmother knows it, therefore she treats him as a child. And this observation led me to the following question: why does she still view him as a “boy”, though he has been working since his youth? It is because he can not sleep alone! What caught my attention is that she never stated, when the doctor started smoking or drinking. (chapter 65) Was it the moment, when she went to the hospital? The timing is crucial, as it can give clues about the main lead’s sleeping trouble. In episode 67, the protagonist finally exposed his cause: (chapter 67) This reinforces my hypothesis that his bad drinking habits are related to the absence of a loved one next to him.

In other words, he can not sleep alone and from my perspective, Shin Okja knows it, but is refusing to become responsible for this situation. (chapter 47) She witnessed this since he was a child, which explains why she never truly addressed his fear of being left behind. This would explain why the halmoni tried to send him away from the hospice in episode 56: (chapter 56) Imagine what it means for her: her grandson is already 29 years old and he can not sleep alone. Under this perspective, Jinx-philes can grasp the relative’s reasoning. The problem is that her knowledge is actually wrong! How so? It is because the protagonist was able to sleep so well alone in the penthouse, to the point that the athlete was envious of him. (chapter 29) That’s how it dawned on me why Shin Okja was so determined to send back her grandson to Seoul.

The grandmother’s insistence on Kim Dan “living his life” (chapter 65) and going back to Seoul under the guise of freedom and career advancement takes on a deeper meaning when viewed through the lens of emotional avoidance. Her words may sound supportive, but they conceal a subtle attempt to sever the emotional tie without taking responsibility for its existence. Now, rather than confronting this vulnerability head-on, she shifts focus to the one thing she believes can replace human closeness: work. A busy man has no time to wallow, no time to drink, no time to remember the empty bed. A man with a career won’t ask for someone to hold his hand at night. In that sense, her vision of “a good life” is one of functionality, not emotional fulfillment. If he works, he won’t be a burden. If he’s successful, she doesn’t have to worry. Yet this approach doesn’t cure the root wound — it just redirects it. This situation mirrors the wolf’s: (chapter 19) The latter is obsessed with work, while he is suffering from insomnia.

The tragedy here is that in encouraging him to grow up through labor, she’s also denying him the right to be a child — something he never got to be in the first place. Her version of love is sacrifice and survival. (chapter 65) And the best evidence for her selfishness and neglect is her ignorance about her grandson’s plan for his future. She is not discussing with him about what he likes or dislikes. She is directing his life, like she did it in the past in the end. And while she may think she’s doing what’s best, her silence about his fears, her ignorance about his true conditions (no home, blacklisted in Seoul) and her refusal to discuss his emotional future reveal a lingering discomfort with the very idea of dependence — perhaps because it reminds her of her own failures or helplessness as a parent figure.

In the end, her encouragement to “live his life” isn’t truly about Kim Dan finding happiness or chasing dreams. It’s about the grandmother relinquishing responsibility — an emotional handoff wrapped in the language of care. (chapter 65) By urging him to return to Seoul and focus on work, she’s hoping that if he stays busy enough, he won’t have time to feel the crushing loneliness that has always shadowed him. She wants him to mature overnight, not because she believes he’s ready, but because she can no longer carry the weight of his dependency. One might say, he is already 29 years old, so she is right. In truth, this isn’t guidance — it’s guilt management. Notice that she is entrusting the main lead to the champion which is not pushing Kim Dan to become „independent“. Her attitude, summed up by the phrase “out of sight, out of mind,” unintentionally mirrors the same abandonment he experienced in the past. She is refusing to worry about him, her peace of mind matters more than his well-being and the champion’s. (chapter 65)

This connects directly to one of the most telling moments in Chapter 67, (chapter 67) when Kim Dan, eyes wide and voice trembling, asks Joo Jaekyung: “Are you saying you brought me here because you’re worried about me?” His expression reveals everything — a fragile hope for genuine concern. But the only response he gets is silence. (chapter 67) This unspoken answer reverberates with painful familiarity: from his vanished mother, from his halmoni who rarely expressed love (rather gratitude and pity), and from a world that reduced him to his usefulness. What he really wants to know is: “Do I matter to you as a person?” And just like his grandmother, the champion fails to offer direct emotional reassurance. Yet unlike her, Joo Jaekyung is still learning. His silence isn’t rejection, but emotional illiteracy — a work in progress.

The irony is that while Park Namwook represents over-control disguised as concern, Shin Okja represents detachment masked as selflessness. She doesn’t want to worry anymore, so she chooses to send Kim Dan away — to someone she thinks should take over. Nonetheless, in my eyes, this isn’t responsibility; it’s avoidance. And for someone like Kim Dan, who already associates nighttime with abandonment, silence with rejection, and empty beds with death, being handed off again only reinforces his unconscious belief: I’m jinxed to be left behind.

The grandmother may never have raised a hand against him, but her silence, her emotional evasiveness, and her idealized image of herself as a “sacrificing protector” created a one-sided bond rooted more in guilt than in love. Her presence was constant, but the emotional quality of her care — the nurturing, the honest affection — was lacking. Hence she still doesn’t know that Kim Dan has no home in Seoul. (chapter 65) And when we remember that Kim Dan tried to call her, she (chapter 65) replied with a silence. Here, she claims that he addressed her as “mom”, but it is possible that she was just projecting her own fears onto her grandson. Since she was by his side all the time, she feared to be seen as his mother. Like mentioned above, the mother might have been busy due to work (or sick) and asked her relative to take care of her grandchild.

Ultimately, what he longs for is simple: to be seen, talked, loved, and to be chosen — without conditions. But those around him have always expected him to be strong, quiet, grateful. So he became all of those things… at the cost of his own soul.

Shin Okja never kissed him like a mother. (chapter 57) Yet in Chapter 44, Kim Dan kisses Joo Jaekyung with soft, maternal gestures—on the cheek, on the ear. (chapter 44) These gestures suggest he had once received such kisses, most likely from his mother. It means he remembers love, even if he doesn’t know how to process its loss.

Her insinuation that Kim Dan owes her everything created a myth of self-sacrifice—one that replaced genuine emotional closeness. She demanded gratitude, not emotional connection. She lived in the mindset of having, not being. As a result, Kim Dan grew up confusing love with obligation, gratitude, and performance. His difficulty in expressing love isn’t due to coldness or immaturity—it’s the byproduct of a dysfunctional emotional education.

This is why, even though he once confessed “I love you” to Joo Jaekyung in the States (Chapter 39), the moment is tainted. It occurred under the influence of an aphrodisiac, intertwining love with sex. Furthermore, he has never voiced this sentiment to his grandmother—perhaps because she never said it to him. It was never modeled. While others might judge Kim Dan’s emotional restraint, I desire to stay neutral. He is not an emotionally stunted adult by choice—he is a product of emotional neglect. That’s the reason why Mingwa has associated him with an angel. He is carrying the sins of “adults”. By likening him to an angel, Mingwa frames his pain not as weakness, but as unjust burden. He embodies purity, sacrifice, and resilience, not because he was allowed to thrive, but because he endured. The angel metaphor becomes even more striking when you think about traditional symbolism: angels don’t belong to Earth, yet they walk among the living, often suffering in silence and helping others. That’s exactly Kim Dan — out of place, bearing the consequences of others’ choices, carrying guilt, debt, and unspoken grief that were never his to begin with.

He’s carrying the sins of adults: – A school which allowed bullying
– A grandmother who turned emotional dependence into silent expectation.
– A mother who vanished, whether through death or abandonment.
– A society that reduced him to labor, debt, and obedience.
– And even a partner, at first, who used his body without recognizing his soul.

Interestingly, his emotional jinx is also spatial. When living in the penthouse, Kim Dan began to sleep peacefully (chapter 29) —not because of physical intimacy with Joo Jaekyung, but because he felt safe. For a time, the place became his illusion of home. But when the champion showed mistrust, the illusion shattered. (chapter 51) The penthouse was never truly his. It was borrowed space. This explicates his refusal to spend the night there. (Chapter 67) Observe how Joo Jaekyung called the penthouse: not home, but his place. Due to the last altercation, the emotional safety collapsed. This experience reactivated his fear of abandonment and solidified the belief that he has no home. (chapter 65) Even the family photo (where and by whom it was taken is unclear) emphasizes the fragility and incompleteness of his sense of belonging.

The Secret Jinx That Must Break First

Each major night scene—Chapters 2, 44, 66, and 67—reveals another layer of the doctor’s jinx. Chapter 2 introduces the concept of the jinx explicitly: Joo Jaekyung believes he must have sex before each match, regardless of partner. This idea of impersonal routine and bodily sacrifice mirrors Kim Dan’s own subconscious belief: (chapter 61) that he must sacrifice his “needs” and identity to be accepted.

Yet in order to truly break Joo Jaekyung’s so-called “jinx”—which, as theorized, may stem from rigged matches and trauma masked by routine—the doctor’s hidden curse must be broken first. As long as Kim Dan sees himself as inherently unworthy and destined for abandonment, he will unconsciously reinforce a dynamic where emotional distance feels safe and predictable.

Chapter 44 shows the beginnings of intimacy (chapter 44), yet even then, it is expressed through regression. Kim Dan’s kisses are gentle, reminiscent of a child seeking comfort, not a lover expressing desire. (chapter 66) Therefore it is not surprising that he laughes like a little child during that night. (Chapter 44) Chapter 66 represents its negative reflection, the emotional climax of this regression: (chapter 66) he cries, begs, (chapter 66) holds on—“Don’t leave me.” (chapter 66) His squeezing fingers holding onto the athlete’s shirt (chapter 66) and desperate pleas are not about romance—they’re about survival, longing and regret. Deep down, he wished, he had hold onto his “mother” in the past, stopped her from leaving him. Is it a coincidence that this gesture from that night mirrors the one during their first night? (chapter 2) And what had the protagonist said right after this gesture? (chapter 2) He wanted the champion to keep his promise. From my point of view, the parent’s vanishing is strongly intertwined with a broken promise… And that’s exactly what the grandmother did to her own grandson: she didn’t keep her words either. (chapter 11) (chapter 53)

Then comes Chapter 67. Though no longer crying, he submits once more (chapter 67), but this time, with eerie detachment. He kneels before Joo Jaekyung like a servant, (chapter 67) asking for sex again. Yet the power dynamic is not as it seems. Though Kim Dan is physically lower, it is Joo Jaekyung who ultimately submits: (chapter 67) his arousal betrays a loss of emotional control. Though he is on his knees, it is Joo Jaekyung who is emotionally yielding. His body betrays his composure, responding to Kim Dan’s touch and gaze. Kim Dan, watching the tremble in the fighter’s expression and the rising heat in his body, feels the shift. His soft blush is not simply one of affection or embarrassment—it’s a flicker of recognition. (chapter 67) He senses that the one usually in control is now unraveling. Appearances deceive: beneath this scene lies a quiet reversal of power. The blush on his cheeks is a trace of a brief moment of clarity: he sees that the person who once held all the control is now faltering.

Ultimately, this mirrors Chapter 2 once more. Back then, Kim Dan surrendered his body, believing it was his only tool for survival. But Chapter 66 reveals that even in moments of closeness (chapter 66), his body is still a vessel for mourning. Hence there is no kiss during that blue night. Each night carries the residue of that first trauma: the night he was left alone. Whether his mother disappeared or passed away in the night, the result is the same—nighttime became synonymous with loss.

This is why he fears being alone after dark. This is why he clings to those who stay past midnight. And when Joo Jaekyung, the one person who broke that pattern, walked away, even briefly, it fractured him. (chapter 63) His so-called jinx is not some irrational superstition. It’s a scar. It’s the quiet belief that the people he loves will vanish the moment he lets his guard down.

So while the champion’s jinx revolves around physical ritual and control, Kim Dan’s is rooted in emotional suppression and dread. Both stem from the same core wound: fear of abandonment.

But Chapter 67 deepens the tragedy: this time, he doesn’t just mourn: he gives in. The act is no longer about clinging to someone or begging them to stay. Instead, it is performed with emotional detachment, a mechanical reenactment of what once held meaning. His internal monologue (chapter 67) makes it clear: he isn’t trying to survive, he’s quietly unraveling. His decision to mix alcohol with medication is not rebellion (chapter 67), it’s resignation. Hence he is not expecting to be cured with the pills. (chapter 67) Thus, chapter 67 reveals the darkest layer of his jinx: not fear of abandonment, but the numb certainty that love, safety, and home are illusions that always vanish with the night.

Observe the decoration on the wall: (chapter 67) It looks like the moon and Saturn are meeting each other. For me, the moon imagery in Chapter 67 is not accidental. Saturn, the planet of hardship and emotional lessons, casts its shadow over this night, mirroring the heavy atmosphere between them. When Kim Dan asks Joo Jaekyung if he brought him here out of concern, the champion remains silent—a silence louder than words. That silence is devastating. In that moment, Kim Dan’s deepest fear is realized: he is not loved, merely tolerated. And so, in an act of resignation rather than seduction, (chapter 67) he offers sex to “settle up,” citing his own preparations like a transaction. (chapter 67) The room’s muted lighting and circular wall decor even evoke the image of an eclipse—as if the moon (emotion) is being overshadowed by Saturn (cold logic and debt). This alignment encapsulates the heart of the scene: vulnerability eclipsed by duty, affection swallowed by silence. That’s the reason why I can’t help myself thinking that Kim Dan might end up in the emergency room later. Besides, we never saw him eating before taking his pills: (chapter 67) while he drank alcohol with the medicine. (Chapter 67) Until now, the champion has a blind faith in drugs, just like the grandmother.

A Split Between Night and Day

One of the most striking revelations is the emotional split between the protagonists. Joo Jaekyung acts like a child during the day (chapter 7), while Kim Dan becomes a child during the night.

By day, Jaekyung seeks routine, praise, validation, and control. His outbursts, tantrums, and need for order mirror the emotional needs of a child. He’s the performer, the strongman, but behind that exterior lies someone seeking parental structure.

At night, Kim Dan’s walls crumble. His trauma surfaces. He cries, begs, trembles—not for pleasure, but out of fear. These breakdowns are not romantic; they’re regressive. And until these wounds are addressed, he can’t become the nurturing figure Jaekyung truly needs. This explicates why during the day, Kim Dan tries to act like an adult and rejected the champion‘s help. (Chapter 66)

For their relationship to heal, Kim Dan’s nightmares must be addressed. Only then can he grow into the “motherly” role he’s beginning to fill during the day—someone who can offer stability, not just silent service. Until the end of season 1, his care was more rooted in duty, than real love and genuine concerns. He didn’t argue with the fighters (chapter 47), when the “wolf” was portrayed as a thug, though the latter had assisted him on multiple occasions.

Conclusion: It’s Happening Again

Now, the imminent death of the grandmother and the puppy bring everything back. Kim Dan isn’t just afraid of the future—he’s haunted by the past. Their death isn’t merely a loss—it’s a reawakening of everything he suppressed. The loneliness, the silence, the night—“It’s happening again.”

But this time, he’s not numb. He’s unraveling. His subconscious belief—the doctor’s secret jinx—is finally being revealed. He is destined to be abandoned… unless something breaks the cycle. It is clear that Joo Jaekyung will be that person, but this change is definitely linked to pain. In chapter 66, for the first time, the doctor’s jinx had a voice. And it sounds a lot like: “Please… don’t leave me.” The problem is that Joo Jaekyung chose to listen to Shin Okja, rather than talk to Kim Dan.

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Jinx: Perfect 👼🏼 Defect 😈 🥺🥀❤️‍🩹

The recent developments in Jinx Chapters 65 and 66 provide a striking insight into the ongoing inner turmoil between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan. Many readers have long labeled Joo Jaekyung as a ‘red flag,’ and as such as a demon. Therefore when he used the idiom ‘defect,’ (chapter 66) they saw it as further confirmation of their perception—reinforcing the idea that he is terribly flawed. However, a deeper analysis suggests that this term reflects not just his character but also his evolving mindset and struggle with emotional vulnerability. This essay will explore the paradox at the heart of their dynamic—how both men refuse to acknowledge the emotional weight of their relationship, leading to a cycle of denial and misperception. It will examine how the concept of the jinx evolves, the continued influence of Park Namwook’s manipulations on Joo Jaekyung, and the role that mutual ingratitude plays in their emotional stagnation.

The Evolution of the Jinx: From Powerlessness to Repair

Initially, Joo Jaekyung’s jinx was a ritual designed to maintain control and secure victory. (chapter 2) This belief system dictated that, no matter what, he had to have sex with a man before every match—reinforcing the illusion that he could manipulate fate through repetition. The identity of his partner was irrelevant; what mattered was the act itself, which he perceived as a necessity rather than a choice. This routine provided him with a sense of control, but it also underscored a fundamental reliance on external factors rather than his own abilities. In Chapter 65, however, a subtle shift occurs. While the champion has not dropped his belief yet: (chapter 65), the nature of his principle has changed: (chapter 65)The athlete is admitting his dependency on doc Dan. The jinx is now directly tied to Kim Dan, not just as a concept but as a tangible element of Joo Jaekyung’s career stability. The second switch is that sex is no longer a condition to ward off bad luck. In fact, the celebrity is recognizing the importance of his daily training and, as such, his hard work. (chapter 65) The inner thoughts of the sportsman reveal that the champion is feeling less powerless than before. His champion status is no longer reliant on superstition but on tangible efforts—his “old routine” and, crucially, Kim Dan’s expertise as a physical therapist. This marks a significant transformation in his perception of Kim Dan, whom he now values for his professional skills rather than as a mere tool for maintaining a ritual. Thus, Joo Jaekyung should be less inclined to request Doc Dan’s sexual services. Then, in episode 66, a new change became visible. (chapter 66) The term defect emerges in his inner monologue, marking a transition from viewing the jinx as a form of dependency to seeing Kim Dan as someone in need of repair. This linguistic change is crucial—jinx implies something external, uncontrollable, and tied to fate, whereas defect introduces the notion of something that can be fixed or even improved.

Joo Jaekyung’s use of the term ‘defect’ stems from his deeply ingrained perception of both himself and others as products rather than individuals with intrinsic worth. Instead of saying that Kim Dan is ‘sick’ or struggling, he labels him as ‘defective,’ mirroring his own self-perception. The champion has long seen himself as nothing more than an athlete, a machine built for fighting—functional when at peak performance, broken when failing. This perception is reinforced by his manager, Park Namwook, who treats him as nothing more than an ATM (chapter 11), a tool to generate money and maintain the gym’s reputation. Hence he blames him, when members leave the gym. (chapter 46) The manager used the incident with Seonho to justify the desertion of the other athletes. However, it is clear that some left the gym because they didn’t become successful like Joo Jaekyung. However, their lack of success is explained by their lack of talent (chapter 46) exposing the lack of ambition and commitment from the two hyungs. It is clear that Joo Jaekyung’s wealth and fame was used to attract the sportsmen creating a myth that they could experience the same success. Nevertheless, as time passed on, the fighters were confronted with reality. It was, as if the athlete’s achievement had become a curse for Team Black. Nonetheless, neither the manager nor the coach can admit it, the champion’s bad temper is utilized to cover the mismanagement within the gym. Striking is that by portraying the protagonist as a person with a bad temper and personality , (chapter 9) the manager and his colleague described their boss as defective. The contrast between Joo Jaekyung’s perception of ‘defect’ and the coach’s view of him as a ‘maniac’ is particularly telling. When the protagonist refers to Kim Dan as having a defect, there is an implicit acknowledgment that something can be repaired or improved. In contrast, Park Namwook’s statement about ‘handling that maniac’ suggests that the star is beyond fixing—someone who must be tolerated and controlled rather than understood or helped. This fundamental difference in perspective reveals how deeply the manager has shaped the champion’s self-perception, reinforcing the idea that he is nothing more than a force to be managed rather than a person who can change or grow.

Ironically, (chapter 11) Joo Jaekyung once accused Kim Dan of seeing him as an ATM back in Chapter 11, but in reality, it is his manager who exploits him as a financial asset rather than recognizing his humanity. Hence he wants him to return to the ring as soon as possible. (chapter 54)

Under this new light, Jinx-philes can grasp why the “demon” (chapter 66) refers to Kim Dan’s condition as a ‘defect’ rather than acknowledging that the doctor is unwell. In doing so, he mirrors how he has been conditioned to see himself—not as a person who can be sick or in need of help, but as something that must either function or be discarded. The paradox is that without him, the gym can no longer attract members, hence Team Black would be forced to close its doors. That’s the reason why the manager is inciting the athlete to return to the gym. (chapter 66) His presence is necessary to maintain the “myth” alive.

But let’s return our attention to the fighter. (chapter 66) Notice that the champion doesn’t say that Kim Dan is sick or suffering from sleeping problems. His words expose that Joo Jaekyung still views life through the lens of having rather than being, seeing both himself and others as assets to be maintained rather than individuals with intrinsic worth. Furthermore, this label is deeply connected to Kim Dan’s own sleeping problems, which mirror Joo Jaekyung’s insomnia.

By recognizing a flaw in Kim Dan, he unconsciously acknowledges his own suffering without explicitly confronting it. Therefore he is accompanying the protagonist to the sleep specialist. (chapter 66) In calling Kim Dan ‘defect,’ Joo Jaekyung is unknowingly projecting his own self-perception onto him. The term suggests something broken but also something that can be repaired, reflecting an unconscious shift in his perspective. Instead of simply using Kim Dan as part of a superstition, he is beginning to see his vulnerability, perhaps even recognizing a parallel to his own struggles. His choice of words also reveals his deeply ingrained belief in self-reliance. (chapter 66) Kim Dan’s nighttime distress contradicts this principle, as it suggests an inability to be alone. This mirrors Joo Jaekyung’s own realization in the garden (chapter 65), where he admitted to himself that he was no longer entirely self-reliant. By calling Kim Dan ‘defect,’ he not only acknowledges the therapist’s struggles but also his own growing dependency on him—though he remains unwilling to fully confront it.

This shift is significant because it alludes that Joo Jaekyung is beginning to see himself as capable of affecting change. For someone conditioned to endure suffering without seeking help, viewing another person as defective paradoxically offers him a sense of power and responsibility. (chapter 66) Hence it is no coincidence that he chose to bring himself the “hamster” to the hospital. (chapter 66) Nevertheless, the idiom (“he’s got a defect”) reveal that Joo Jaekyung is still under the manager’s influence. This means that this shift is not immediate or conscious; it is restrained by his continued loyalty to Park Namwook and his ingrained avoidance of emotional vulnerability.

The Manager’s Manipulations: Control Through Information

Striking is that in season 2, the champion is almost never seen with the other members from Team Black. (chapter 60) This scene represents the exception. For the most part of the time, the star only visited the gym because Park Namwook had contacted him. (chapter 54) (chapter 66) Striking is that by each meeting, the champion was alone with the manager. The latter was no longer followed by coach Yosep. It was, as if Park Namwook wanted to have some privacy with the celebrity. However, through this contrast, Jinx-lovers can detect a certain MO from the manager: he is isolating the champion, limiting his interactions with other members. This explicates why he remains a pivotal force in Joo Jaekyung’s stagnation.

A clear example of Park Namwook’s manipulative tendencies emerges in his interactions with Joo Jaekyung in Chapter 66. He subtly pressures the champion to return to the gym by implying that his current behavior—isolating himself—is not normal. (chapter 66) Yet, just moments later, he tells him that he can take more time to rest, as if feigning concern. This contradiction is striking because it exposes his underlying agenda: he wants Joo Jaekyung back in the gym but doesn’t want to appear forceful. Instead, he makes it seem like Joo Jaekyung is the one making the decision, fostering guilt by implying that his long absence is unnatural.

What makes this irony even more apparent is that Park Namwook has, in the past, dismissed Joo Jaekyung as a ‘spoiled child with a bad temper.’ (chapter 52) His sudden shift—acting as though the champion is no longer himself—reveals his inconsistency. When Joo Jaekyung was compliant, he was simply a reckless athlete with an attitude. Now that he is exhibiting autonomy, Park Namwook implies that something is wrong with him. It was, as though he was missing the old version of the champion. 😂 But this is what he complained about him in the past: he was a workaholic! (chapter 27) This double standard highlights Park Namwook’s true role: he is not a supportive figure but a handler, ensuring that Joo Jaekyung remains under control and fulfilling his duties as a fighter. His words are not meant to provide genuine support but to keep Joo Jaekyung tethered to a system where his worth is defined solely by his success in the ring.

His subtle manipulations ensure that Joo Jaekyung remains dependent on his management, discouraging emotional entanglements that might threaten his control. This is evident in the way he frames Joo Jaekyung’s return to training in Chapter 66, focusing on ensuring compliance rather than addressing the champion’s personal struggles. (chapter 66) Park Namwook ensures that Joo Jaekyung remains confined within the narrow definition of an athlete whose sole purpose is to generate victories and revenue. By subtly invalidating the fighter’s autonomy, he fosters a cycle of dependency, discouraging any form of emotional connection or self-reflection that might lead Joo Jaekyung to question his control. The manager’s contradictions—both urging him to take his time yet implying his behavior is unnatural—serve to reinforce this conditioning, ensuring that the champion remains locked in a pattern of obligation rather than self-discovery. In doing so, Park Namwook not only suppresses Joo Jaekyung’s potential for growth but also reinforces the deeply ingrained perception that his worth is conditional and transactional.

His tactics extend beyond mere coaching—he controls information, as seen in his omission of lost sponsorships (chapter 54) or (un)favorable interviews about the athlete. (chapter 54) (Chapter 57) As a manager, Park Namwook’s role involves overseeing Joo Jaekyung’s career, securing contracts, and ensuring his reputation remains intact. Yet, as seen in Chapter 66, his actual concerns seem remarkably narrow in scope. (chapter 66) When speaking to Joo Jaekyung, Park Namwook focuses exclusively on the gym—as if the athlete were merely a member rather than the actual owner. This detail is particularly ironic, as it reveals that the man with the glasses sees himself as the one in charge, entitled to dictate Joo Jaekyung’s movements and decisions. His fixation on the gym exposes why he shows no interest in other crucial aspects of the champion’s career, such as contracts, endorsements, or emotional and physical recovery. His management is driven not by genuine concern for the fighter’s well-being, but by a desire to uphold the gym’s operation and reinforce his perceived authority within it. To conclude, his true motivation lies in preserving the gym’s function and image, treating Joo Jaekyung as a means to that end rather than supporting him as a multidimensional individual with emotional and professional needs. That’s the reason why he shows no curiosity about his star’s private life: “I don’t know what you’ve been up to lately”. (chapter 66)

Because his failure to reveal lost sponsorships and unfavorable interviews in Season 2 suggests a pattern of withholding critical information, I couldn’t help myself thinking to see as another clue that his omission extends to the fateful meeting between Choi Gilseok and Kim Dan, which took place in front of “HIS” gym! (chapter 48) Back then, there was a witness, Kwak Junbeom and the latter could have reported to the “hyung”. These incidents indicate a consistent effort to control what the champion knows, raising the critical question: why?? His silence on this matter suggests not only a strategic decision to keep the star uninformed, but also an attempt to avoid responsibility. The supervisor often hesitates to make decisive choices (chapter 50), preferring instead to remain passive so that any negative outcomes can be blamed on the champion. At the same time, this passivity helps him maintain control—as if Joo Jaekyung, without his guidance, would be left ‘alone’ and directionless. In this way, the man with the glasses sustains a dynamic in which the champion feels dependent on his presence, even as he is subtly undermined. By neglecting to inform him of these events, Park Namwook ensures that the champion remains unaware of external factors that could influence his choices. This pattern reinforces the possibility that Park Namwook was aware of the meeting with Choi Gilseok and deliberately ignored it, likely expecting that Joo Jaekyung would take care of it, while absolving himself of responsibility.

Park Namwook’s motivations become clearer when viewed through this lens. In his eyes, Joo Jaekyung is now physically perfect (chapter 66) —his shoulder has healed, and he should be able to return to the ring. However, at the same time, he regards him as defective (chapter 66) because he no longer displays the same single-minded devotion to fighting. Joo Jaekyung’s emotional distance from the gym and his growing attachment to Kim Dan mark a transformation that the manager interprets as a threat. Instead of embracing this evolution, the “supervisor” views it as a flaw—proof that the champion is no longer operating under the selfish, work-driven mindset he once encouraged. This contradiction reflects the “hyung”’s twisted priorities: he sees the gym as the center of value and promotes an ideology of workaholism, selfishness, and emotional suppression. Since he has no one by his side, he should come to the gym, as if he would nurture relationships there. To him, the ideal fighter is one who exists solely for the ring, forgoing connection or personal growth. In that sense, the protagonist becomes the Perfect Defect—flawless in form but, in Park Namwook’s eyes, failing in function by daring to become more human. The manager’s repeated emphasis on the gym reveals his narrow view of the champion’s purpose, treating him as a member rather than the rightful owner. This misperception reflects Park Namwook’s deeper worldview: he represents workaholism, selfishness, and greed, believing that the only acceptable behavior is unwavering devotion to the gym and career success.

The Slow Burn: Why The Characters’ Mindset Is Not Changing Abruptly

Despite these moments of introspection (chapter 65), the “wolf” does not immediately alter his behavior. (chapter 66) This hesitation stems from deeply ingrained beliefs about relationships and fidelity. His loyalty to Park Namwook prevents him from fully confronting the possibility that his manager may not have his best interests at heart. Moreover, his own emotional repression makes it difficult for him to recognize his evolving dependency on Kim Dan as something beyond physical necessity.

But there exists another reason for his slow transformation, the influence of the location. Notice that he agreed to his hyung’s statement, when he was in the penthouse. The latter stands for civilization and as such “corruption”. Thus I came to the following interpretation. The penthouse represents the manager’s power over the champion, which explicates why Oh Daehyun and the other fighters spoke about that place in admiration in front of their coach. (chapter 22) They had heard about his place, for the manager must have talked about it. The protagonist is not someone who will talk about his private life to others. The manager must have dangled promises in front of them, making them believe that if they’re lucky enough, they too could live like the champion. However, their reactions reveal something crucial—they are not motivated by greed but by genuine admiration. They simply want to experience the luxury once in a while, reinforcing that their bond with Joo Jaekyung is rooted in camaraderie rather than material envy. This further highlights the contrast between Park Namwook’s manipulation and the sincere regard his teammates have for him. This scene is important, because it exposes the manager’s prejudices and lack of discernment. (chapter 46) Not everyone is the same and more importantly like him! It is clear that the man is projecting his own principles onto others and in particular onto the champion.

His reluctance is further reinforced by the lack of validation from Kim Dan. (chapter 66) Neither of them fully understands how to acknowledge care or support. Just as Joo Jaekyung struggles to recognize his actions as stemming from concern (chapter 66) rather than routine, Kim Dan fails to see Joo Jaekyung’s interventions as genuine help. This mutual misunderstanding deepens the emotional rift between them, ensuring that both remain trapped in their own perceptions of obligation rather than connection. In Chapter 66, he openly expresses frustration, stating, (chapter 66). This moment highlights a rare glimpse of honesty: he is not acting purely out of self-interest, but he frames it as an obligation rather than a choice. From my point of view, such a statement could only reach the physical therapist’s mind, for in the latter’s eyes, the champion has always been a “demon”: self-centered and inconsiderate. Observe the absence of reply from the “hamster”. He couldn’t contradict the star, as the latter was using this negative image: bad tempered and selfish.

Mingwa has long associated doc Dan with an angel. . The reason is simple. He was portrayed as someone who would do favors to people constantly: his grandmother (chapter 53), the manager (chapter 9), the fighters (chapter 7) and even Choi Heesung. Hence the latter called him like that: (chapter 30) Kim Dan’s perception of himself as an “angel” has long shaped the way he interprets his relationship with Joo Jaekyung. Reinforced by his upbringing and Park Namwook’s subtle manipulation (chapter 36), he has unconsciously placed himself in a position of moral superiority. He is the patient, understanding figure, while Joo Jaekyung, in contrast, is violent (chapter 1), selfish, and emotionally stunted. However, this self-perception is deeply flawed. By believing himself to be inherently better (chapter 64) than the champion, Kim Dan avoids confronting his own emotional repression, his weaknesses, and his own form of “defectiveness.” He fails to see that he is just as human—just as fragile—as the man he silently judges. (chapter 66) The expression “Really…?” is not just about disbelief but also about a moment of confrontation with reality. Up until this point, Kim Dan has been dismissing his own suffering, suppressing his struggles, and functioning on autopilot. However, hearing a professional confirm that he is indeed sick forces him to acknowledge what he has been denying.

The word “really” acts as a bridge between doubt and acceptance, signaling that reality is crashing down on him. This corresponds to the downfall of an angel. He can no longer minimize or rationalize his exhaustion as something temporary—it’s a legitimate condition, one that requires attention. This realization is significant because it directly challenges his self-perception. He has always seen himself as someone who must endure, someone who cannot afford to be weak. But now, he is faced with undeniable evidence that he is not just tired—he is unwell.

This moment marks a turning point, where the truth of his condition is no longer something he can push aside. So far, he has always dismissed the champion’s remarks as “lies”: (chapter 60) or exaggerations. (chapter 66) It also forces him to consider that others—especially Joo Jaekyung—were right to be concerned, which in turn may lead to a shift in his perception of the champion’s actions.

Furthermore, Kim Dan grew up in an environment where repressing his desires was not just expected but necessary for survival. He was conditioned to associate sex (chapter 20) with shame, something impure that should be avoided or hidden. This internalized belief made it difficult for him to separate his own experiences from moral judgment. When he encountered the champion —who treated sex as nothing more than a professional ritual (chapter 2)—this stark contrast reinforced his existing worldview. He saw the celebrity as reckless, immoral, and impulsive, someone who lacked restraint and viewed intimacy as just another means to an end. In contrast, Kim Dan unconsciously positioned himself as purer—someone who was above such base instincts.

However, this sense of superiority is deeply paradoxical. While he judged Joo Jaekyung for his behavior, he was also the one who allowed himself to be drawn into the transactional dynamic without resisting it. Instead of questioning or confronting the situation, he passively accepted it, reinforcing his own role within the dynamic. His moral disdain for Joo Jaekyung did not stop him from complying with the athlete’s demands. This contradiction highlights Kim Dan’s deeper struggle: he is caught between his ingrained judgment and his own passivity. He wants to believe he is different from Joo Jaekyung, yet his actions—or lack thereof—suggest otherwise. This explicates why he is projecting his own behavior onto the athlete’s: (chapter 66) He assumed once again that the star had taken advantage of his “drunkenness”, something Kim Dan had done himself in the past.

This internal conflict plays a crucial role in why he struggles to acknowledge the changes in Joo Jaekyung’s behavior. If he were to admit that the champion is not just a brute, that he is capable of genuine concern, it would force him to reconsider his own beliefs—not just about Joo Jaekyung, but about himself. To do so, however, means dismantling the rigid perception of morality and purity he has clung to for so long. Until Kim Dan comes to terms with his own contradictions, he will continue to misunderstand Joo Jaekyung’s intentions, keeping them both trapped in a cycle of mutual misperception.

Mingwa has frequently associated Kim Dan with angelic imagery, but this serves as a double-edged sword. While it elevates him in the eyes of others, it also creates a psychological barrier that prevents him from recognizing his own suffering. His insomnia, his malnutrition, his growing depression—these are all things he ignores or downplays (chapter 66), even as they take a visible toll on his body. If he were to acknowledge his own vulnerabilities, he would have to admit that he is not above needing help, something he has spent his entire life avoiding. Instead, he clings to the idea that he must endure in silence, reinforcing the very behaviors that keep him trapped in a cycle of self-neglect.

This ties directly into the slow transformation of both characters. The angel needs to be reminded of his own true nature: he is human, and like any human, he can get sick, he can struggle, and he can fail. On the other hand, the champion, who has long internalized to see people through the lens of function and utility, has to recognize that being “defective” can represent a source of strength. So far, for him defect meant being worthless. Their reluctance to break away from these ingrained perceptions of themselves is precisely what keeps them at odds. Kim Dan resents Joo Jaekyung for his supposed lack of morality, yet he does not realize that his own self-righteousness blinds him to the reality of their relationship. Likewise, Joo Jaekyung, having always been valued for his physicality rather than his emotions, fails to grasp that true strength lies in acknowledging weakness—not erasing it.

This is why their transformations are not immediate. Their beliefs have been deeply ingrained through years of conditioning, and it takes more than a few interactions to dismantle them. Imagine this: a demon speaking to an angel, it perfectly encapsulates why they struggle to find common ground. Their fundamental worldviews have been shaped by entirely different environments—Kim Dan, who has been conditioned to suppress his desires and associate sex with shame, and Joo Jaekyung, who treats it as a necessity detached from emotion. This contrast creates a deep chasm between them, where one views the other as morally inferior, while the other sees emotional attachment as unnecessary or even a weakness.

Yet, the only place they can truly meet is Earth—neutral ground where neither absolute morality (Heaven) nor pure instinct (Hell) dictates their actions. And that would be the little town on the coast. (chapter 65) Symbolically, this reflects their respective journeys. The demon (Joo Jaekyung) is slowly leaving the underworld of detachment and blind routine, stepping toward vulnerability. Meanwhile, the angel (Kim Dan) is descending from his idealized, self-righteous perception of himself, recognizing his own flaws, desires, and limitations. Both must step away from their extremes—Kim Dan from his unconscious moral superiority and passive victimhood, and Joo Jaekyung from his emotional repression and transactional mindset.

Until they meet in the middle—on Earth, where human connection, vulnerability, and compromise exist—they will continue to misunderstand each other. Their so-called defects are what ultimately bind them together, but until they acknowledge them, they will remain locked in their cycle of denial and emotional stagnation. Kim Dan must first recognize that his suffering is valid, that he is not above pain, and that needing help does not make him weak. Likewise, Joo Jaekyung must learn that genuine care is not a transaction, nor is vulnerability a flaw. Until both confront these truths, they will continue to misunderstand each other, pushing one another away even as they inch closer to genuine connection.

The Missing Gratitude: A Two-Sided Problem

The absence of gratitude on both sides serves as the linchpin of their emotional stalemate. Joo Jaekyung, for all his power and success, has never been properly acknowledged outside of his career achievements (chapter 40) , while Kim Dan, conditioned by years of emotional neglect, sees gratitude as a transactional exchange rather than an expression of genuine appreciation. (chapter This creates a vicious cycle—Joo Jaekyung continues to view Kim Dan as a ‘defect’ (chapter 66) because Kim Dan does not recognize his efforts, while Kim Dan cannot see past his own survival instincts to notice that Joo Jaekyung’s actions are slowly shifting from obligation to care. Kim Dan, conditioned by years of neglect and survival-driven thinking, does not see Joo Jaekyung’s actions as genuine care. (chapter 66) He assumes everything comes with a price, failing to recognize moments where Joo Jaekyung acts beyond obligation.

Conversely, Joo Jaekyung, still in denial about his emotional investment, refuses to acknowledge any deeper attachment to Kim Dan. (chapter 66) And now, you comprehend why the champion employed the idiom “defect”. As long as Kim Dan does not express gratitude, Joo Jaekyung can continue convincing himself that his actions are dictated by habit or self-interest rather than care. Their inability to recognize and articulate their changing dynamic keeps them locked in a cycle of emotional detachment. Nevertheless, it becomes clear that this vicious cycle will stop, as now these two men are little by little influenced by the nice landlord: (chapter 66) And the latter can see beyond the appearances.

Conclusion: The Perfect Defect

In the end, the irony is that both characters see the other as defective in some way—Kim Dan as someone who is broken and in need of fixing, and Joo Jaekyung as someone incapable of expressing genuine care. Yet, it is precisely their emotional shortcomings that make them a perfect mirror for each other. The evolution of the jinx into defect signals an impending shift, but until gratitude is exchanged—until one of them acknowledges the other’s role in their life—the cycle will persist. As long as Kim Dan remains emotionally detached, Joo Jaekyung will continue denying his own feelings, making them each other’s Perfect Defect.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Twitter-Tumblr account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Jinx: 𓇢𓆸 Prove Me Wrong Again 💢😂

When you look at the illustration, your eyes are immediately drawn to the broken mirror at its center. As you can imagine, the cracked reflection, fragmented and distorted, is essentially referring to our protagonist Kim Dan. The broken mirror echoes Kim Dan’s shattered self-esteem. It is a visual representation of his inner dialogue: the doubts, fears, and insecurities that have long dictated his life. His reluctance to assert himself (chapter 36), his tendency to retreat rather than challenge his own doubts (chapter 36), and his overwhelming fear of disappointing others (chapter 51) are all reflections of these internalized obstacles. Recognizing them as external impositions rather than intrinsic truths is the first step to breaking free. That’s the reason why in the reflection of the broken mirror, you can detect an open window in the background. By focusing too much on his reflection, the physical therapist is trapped in his own negative world. One could perceive it as the opposite version of Narcissus. Yet rather than falling in love with his image, he sees only his flaws, reinforcing his belief that he is unworthy. The open window suggests an escape, a possibility for change, but the problem is that the main lead is too fixated on his shattered self-perception to pay attention to his surroundings. Hence he comes to neglect his own body and people next to him.

The Weight of Unseen Chains: Mental Barriers

The mental obstacles we impose upon ourselves can be some of the most difficult to overcome. In the article “The mental obstacles you put on yourself to stop moving forward” Jennifer Delgado explains that these barriers often originate from the voices of significant figures in our past. They can be parents, teachers, or even childhood bullies who shaped how we see ourselves.

Kim Dan’s struggles reflect this reality, just as Joo Jaekyung’s nightmare (chapter 54) suggests he too is haunted by such internalized voices. Under this new light, you comprehend why I wrote in the introduction that the broken mirror was mostly alluding to the doctor. Both protagonists are suffering from mental hurdles, trapped in a psychological prison. The significant difference is that while Kim Dan is consciously recognizing his self-doubt (chapter 62), Joo Jaekyung does not. The evidence for this interpretation is the champion’s nightmare: (chapter 54) Instead of realizing the words stem from an external source, an abuser from his past, he sees them as a reflection of his own fears and inadequacies. This explicates why he chose to drink. This terrible vision illustrates how internalized criticism functions: it feels personal, nonetheless its origins lie in past experiences. Both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung are trapped in cycles of learned helplessness, shaped by voices that do not truly belong to them. Their self-doubt was not inherent; it was shaped by the expectations and criticisms of those around them. Striking is that Mingwa let us see how these mental obstacles are born. Observe that (chapter 18) the doctor (chapter 36) repeated the exact same words than his boss. This means that , the doctor internalized these limiting beliefs, thinking that he was not in a position to speak up or assert himself. This explicates why he had to convince himself that he was just a tool to the athlete. This explicates why at the end, he returned the champion’s jacket. The athlete never recognized him as a stan either. Simultaneously, the athlete was also the physical therapist’s emancipator, because he encouraged him to improve his skills and knowledge (chapter 25) Therefore the physical therapist bought books. Moreover, we should consider this argument (chapter 45) as a revocation of the star’s statement in episode 18. Kim Dan was no longer perceived as a tool, but as a real physical therapist. On the one hand, this request boosted the “angel’s ego”, on the other hand, he was put under immense pressure, for he was compared to his colleagues. (chapter 45) Since in Seoul, Kim Dan has only been hired because of sex (Joo Jaekyung, the perverted hospital director) (chapter 6), he came to accept that he was not truly talented. The champion had no trust in him and later, the word jinx triggered a repressed bad memory. (chapter 62) Due to his bad past experiences, he concluded deep down that his CV was not reflecting the truth. (chapter 56) That’s the reason why he was devaluing himself and as such not looking for a high position.

In her article, the psychologist outlines three primary mental barriers that keep individuals from moving forward:

  • It’s not the right time – The belief that circumstances must be perfect before taking action, leading to perpetual hesitation.
  • I’m not an expert – A sense of inadequacy that prevents people from trying, despite having the capability to learn and grow.
  • I will surely fail – A deeply ingrained fear of failure that discourages risk-taking and reinforces insecurities,

Striking is that in season 1, we could detect these three mental obstacles in the physical therapist’s life.

His unwillingness to defy Joo Jaekyung’s dismissal in episode 48 (chapter 48) exemplifies this pattern: (chapter 48) It was not the right time. He assumed his voice held no weight, reflecting years of learned helplessness. It shows how Kim Dan internalizes responsibility for things beyond his control. He thinks that withholding information is an act of protection rather than avoidance. Yet in doing so, he denies himself agency in his own life.

This aligns with Delgado’s argument—these limiting beliefs were not inherent truths but external influences that he internalized, preventing him from asserting himself. Thus I deduce that Kim Dan has unknowingly adopted his grandmother’s behavior—withholding information under the justification of “protecting” others. Therefore it is not astonishing that her grandson treated her the same way. He already concealed many things from her in order to protect her, and she was his only role model. Just as she concealed things from him (like her true feelings, the absence of the parents or even the way she spoke about him behind his back), Kim Dan did the same to Joo Jaekyung in episode 48. His rationale in this scene mirrors her method of control through omission.

Season two of Jinx only intensifies these self-imposed constraints. I noticed that the switched spray incident (chapter 62) completely devastated Kim Dan’s already fragile self-esteem. (chapter 62) First, he considers himself as waste. While in the past, he was at least a tool, he is now garbage. Hence his feelings are “trash”. (chapter 62) This means that in episode 62, he felt worse than in episode 18! The idioms “trash” and “waste” revealed the doctor’s own self-perception in episode 62: he saw himself as totally useless. He belonged to the “wastebasket”, just like the golden key chain. (chapter 46) Thus I deduce that the fate of this item echoes the doctor’s.

But let’s return our attention to his transformation in season 1. He was making progress thanks to Joo Jaekyung’s trust, but that one moment undid everything. (chapter 51) When he realized that the champion didn’t put his faith in him, he lost his motivation. This observation reminded me of the main lead’s previous statement. (chapter 47) He had selected this profession because of her. This shows that until now, he has never developed any ambition on his own. The loss of faith from someone he relied on for motivation made him feel completely worthless. This reinforces that his confidence and sense of direction were never self-sustained: they depended on others’ recognition. This pattern suggests that Kim Dan has never truly asked himself what he wants. His entire existence has revolved around meeting expectations, whether from his grandmother, Joo Jaekyung, or even his profession. His current crisis—feeling like waste—stems from the realization that without someone to validate his worth, he sees himself as nothing.

One might question this statement because of this scene: (chapter 59) However, observe that he is using the expressions “do” and “now”. This has nothing to do with the future and dreams. It is not a reflection on his own desires but rather an immediate reaction to his circumstances. His mindset is still trapped in survival mode, seeking a course of action rather than contemplating what he truly wants. His words reflect an urgency to act rather than an opportunity to dream. This highlights that he has spent his entire life making decisions based on necessity rather than personal fulfillment. Even when faced with uncertainty, he does not ask himself what he wants—only what he must do next. His transformation will only be complete when he begins to question not just how to survive, but how to live on his own terms. That’s how I realized why Mingwa put this question in front of the window covered with Venetian blinds [which made me think of this scene (chapter 39 – Venice, a travel to Italy]. The window with the Venetian blinds represents a metaphor for the doctor’s trapped dreams. This interpretation made me recognize another aspect. Kim Dan is pushed to meditate, when he is front of a window or better said close to the sky! Hence the hamster started thinking about his own future in the penthouse (chapter 19) or when he looked at the sun and sky: (chapter 41) (chapter 41) And the best evidence for this interpretation and expectation is doc Dan’s cellphone screen display. (chapter 38) My avid readers will certainly recall that clouds embody dreams! Why? It is because in verity, doc Dan is a dreamer, an ambitious man. What caught my attention is that his contact Joo Jaekyung was not saved with a picture!! And what had motivated Kim Dan in the past? (chapter 47) The picture from his childhood: himself with his grandmother. (chapter 66) But the latter was not related to work, but to fun and nature. Striking is that Joo Jaekyung has an empty phone screen display indicating that he has no real dream on his own either: (chapter 38) No wonder why he questioned the meaning of his champion title: (chapter 54). He saw the belt as something rather “meaningless”.

To conclude, for the couple to break free from their terrible mindset, they need to find purpose within themselves rather than constantly seeking external validation. But let’s focus more on doc Dan again. This also ties into the broader theme of meaningful praise—instead of being recognized for what he does, he needs to be valued for who he is. How can this take place? By taking a picture together! (chapter 43) This would boost the doctor’s self-esteem. He is not trash, but an acknowledged fan and friend. The picture would encourage the physical therapist to develop his own ambitions. As soon as I made this discovery, another detail caught my notice: (chapter 66) The celebrity has no picture of Park Namwook in his contacts divulging the superficiality of their relationship.

Then in her article, the psychologist mentioned two other mental barriers. “I’m not an expert”. That’s the reason why in episode 42, doc Dan used his colleague to voice his own thoughts. (chapter 42) The problem is that the athlete took this recommendation personally. He felt as if his job as fighter was questioned. (chapter 42) As you can see, the doctor’s hesitations were exposing his mental obstacles, which was reflected in the champion’s attitude. No wonder why doc Dan chose to become a courier as a second job instead of finding a new VIP client. While the interaction between the athlete and Kim Dan in front of the hospice display the return of doc Dan’s past mental hurdles:

  • I’m not an expert (chapter 62)
  • It’s not the right time: (chapter 62) According to the main lead, the champion is “wasting his time here”.
  • I will surely fail: (chapter 62)

The only difference to the past is that now the athlete could detect the presence of his partner’s negative thoughts. Nevertheless, by examining closely the statements from the main lead, I noticed other mental barriers that people place on themselves, which Delgado did not mention but are still strongly related to the other three:

  • Overthinking – Kim Dan fixates on past mistakes, questioning every action and thought. (chapter 62) Therefore the athlete tried to persuade his fated partner to accept his offer by saying this: “Don’t overthink” (chapter 62)
  • Catastrophizing – He assumes the worst possible outcome, believing another mistake could destroy his credibility entirely. The reality is that he expressed his regret of having used the spray: (chapter 57) Hence it is clear that in the future, the physical therapist would refuse to use any kind of spray. On the other hand, it is important to recall that back then, Joo Jaekyung had made the request himself: (chapter 49) So in the doctor’s mind, if he agreed to the champion’s request, he would be treated like in the past. He would have to simply to follow the athlete’s lead. That’s why he is imagining that he might be put in a similar situation than in the past. But there exists another reason why he refused the champion’s offer right from the start. It is because he has always perceived himself as “hands” which stand for selflessness and generosity. The latter defined doc Dan. Hence he looked at them, when he declared himself as a tool: (chapter 36) Under this new light, it occurred to me why the hamster had to reject the star’s offer right from the start. It is because he came to identify himself as the “spray”. Hence Mingwa created such panels, where Kim Dan’s terrible memories (chapter 57) (chapter 62) are combining the doctor’s hands with the spray. Then a spray is an item destined to be discarded. Is it a coincidence that Kim Dan “switched” places (chapter 1) with a previous PT like the spray? No wonder why he called himself “trash” in the end.
  • Preferring the comfort zone – To avoid failure, he tells himself he should step back (chapter 62) and let others handle things, rather than risk making another mistake. His patients at the hospice are all terminally ill, therefore they don’t have high expectations from him.

His belief that others are ‘wasting their time’ on him echoes a deeper conviction—that he himself is waste. By equating attention and care with wasted effort, he subconsciously devalues his own existence, reducing himself to something disposable, like the “poisoned spray”. This mindset aligns with the toxic inner dialogue shaped by years of neglect and emotional suppression. It was the one thing helping him grow, yet now, he questions whether he deserves it at all.

The Dandelion and Praise: A Fragile Symbol

Returning to the illustration , people might wonder why I selected dandelions as a frame for the selected.. It’s clear that the dandelions aren’t just there for aesthetic balance. Their symbolism is profound. Dandelions are often associated with childhood innocence, wishes, and fleeting moments of beauty, yet they also wither quickly, easily scattered by the wind. In the context of Jinx, they represent a transitory force—something that struggles to take root, much like the intangible and fleeting elements in Kim Dan’s life. But there’s more to it. Before delving into deeper analysis, consider this: what is the common denominator in all these scenes?

Chapter 1Chapter 15Chapter 30Chapter 31



Chapter 40Chapter 43Chapter 56Chapter 62Chapter 66



The answer is compliments. However, here it is important to make a distinction. In most of the selected scenes, the physical therapist is the one getting praised. In the actor’s eyes, he is not only an angel, but also the best. But why did he say that? One might say that Kim Dan offered his services for free. LOL! (chapter 31: I will explain this further below) Besides, the manager is saying that the champion’s performance has improved thanks to his presence. Halmoni is describing her grandson as a diligent and hard-working physical therapist. The nurse expressed a similar praise than the comedian. He is the best! All the support he received was linked to his job as physical therapist. (chapter 37) Therefore it is not surprising that the main lead couldn’t view the members as friends in the end.

Striking is that I picked up three scenes where the “wolf” came to be praised. In chapter 15, for the first time, the doctor voiced his admiration to the athlete: “You were amazing!” to which the champion responded: “Tell me something I don’t know!” But why did he say this? It is because his manager always complimented him for his performance in the ring: (chapter 40) And now, my avid readers can sense a parallel between Joo Jaekyung’s reply and the title of this essay: “Prove me wrong again!”

Hollow Words: The Illusion of Praise

If we examine the praises Kim Dan receives throughout the series, we could see that these nice words never reached Kim Dan’s soul and heart. But why didn’t they help him to boost his ego? Delgado’s second article, Praise That Completely Destroys Children’s Self-Esteem, offers valuable insight into why:

  1. Focus on Ability, Not Effort – Compliments like “You’re the best” or “You have amazing care” (chapter 56) emphasize innate talent rather than the effort he puts in. This means that when he fails, he interprets it as proof that he was never truly capable to begin with.
  2. Exaggeration – The over-the-top gestures, like the coffee truck, feel inflated and insincere. This makes it harder for Kim Dan to genuinely believe in the praise he receives. Besides, there’s no picture of him there.
  3. Pressure, Not Motivation – Instead of building him up , these compliments raise expectations to an unattainable level, reinforcing his belief that he’s a fraud who will inevitably disappoint.

And now, you comprehend how I came to associate dandelion seeds to empty flatteries. The connection between dandelion seeds and hollow praise lies in their fleeting, weightless nature. Just as dandelion seeds are easily carried away by the wind, hollow compliments—those that are vague, exaggerated, or disconnected from genuine effort—disperse without truly taking root in the person they are meant to uplift. They may seem pleasant in the moment, but they fail to provide real nourishment or stability for self-esteem. Hence Potato’s admiration couldn’t move the athlete’s heart and mind: (chapter 41) And now, you comprehend why Joo Jaekyung has always disliked his birthday and the “congratulations” from people in general. The gifts and words were like poisoned praises to his soul. They were pushing him to live like a “god”.

Dandelions are often associated with impermanence, a plant that thrives briefly before its seeds scatter, lost to the wind. Similarly, the praise Kim Dan receives—“You’re the best,” “You’re amazing,”—floats around him but never lands deep enough to strengthen his self-worth. It is momentary validation, gone as quickly as it appears, leaving him feeling just as uncertain and fragile as before.

This is why the illustration places hollow praise within the dandelion blooms—it highlights the transient, superficial nature of these compliments. Instead of fostering deep confidence, they merely swirl around him, reinforcing his feeling of disconnect between others’ perception of him and his own self-image.

That’s how I came to the first following conclusion. Dandelions and photographs serve as opposing symbols in Jinx. The dandelion seeds represent fleeting, empty compliments—words that drift away with the wind, never taking root. Conversely, photographs preserve meaningful moments (chapter 66), cementing their value over time. Unlike dandelion seeds, which scatter meaninglessly, photographs stand for memory, permanence, and proof of (genuine) human connection. (chapter 45) Kim Dan’s only adult photograph, taken with Choi Heesung and Potato, ties into his professional world, reinforcing how his identity has always been defined by what he does rather than who he is. (chapter 59) While this photography was not a personal and intimate picture, it also symbolizes his first root in the little community: Light of Hope Hospice. He is part of the staff and as such of the little town. On the other side, we could say, he is gradually entering the scene as a PT. Note the contrast to the food truck: (chapter 31) There was no picture of “Angel Dan”!! It was, as if the comedian was using doc Dan’s image to promote himself 😮, similar to this scene: (chapter 30) In other words, it exposes the actor’s hypocrisy and wrongdoings. And now, you understand why I wrote genuine in parentheses above [proof of (genuine) human connection]. Photography in Jinx also represents the evidence of wrongdoing (chapter 48) and deception: (chapter 66) This picture is not just the symbol of innocence and joy, it is strongly intertwined with the vanishing of the parents. There is a secret behind this picture. Yet, for Joo Jaekyung’s, it looks like Halmoni was enough for Kim Dan, as she could make him smile once. The photography, the emblem of civilization, can be traced back, and as such exposes the identity of the perpetrators and accomplices: (chapter 46) The exact opposite of the dandelions.

Joo Jaekyung’s act of bringing Kim Dan to the sleep specialist is the embodiment of actions over words. (chapter 66) It is a direct contradiction to the hollow praise doc Dan has received all his life. (chapter 53) He was treasurable, for he did favors to his grandmother all the time. Instead of simply saying that Kim Dan matters, the champion proves it. He challenges the physical therapist’s own perception of himself, demonstrating that he is not just useful—he is precious. Secondly by justifying his action for the doctor’s sake, (chapter 66) he contradicts not only Kim Dan’s self-perception, but also his past accusations: (chapter 66) that he was merely a tool for Joo Jaekyung’s success. By taking him to the sleep specialist, the champion proves something that Kim Dan had refused to see: he matters beyond his utility. This moment mirrors Joo Jaekyung’s past words— (chapter 15) into an action that Kim Dan never expected, an undeniable truth he can no longer ignore. And keep in mind that this reply was linked to doc Dan’s praise concerning his recent fight: (chapter 15) What Joo Jaekyung wants to hear from doc Dan is that he is a good person outside the ring, he wants to be praised for his good actions too. (chapter 62) This shows that deep down, he desires to obtain doc Dan’s gratitude. No wonder why he got so upset after hearing the displeased comment from Kim Dan. (chapter 66)

Moreover, the key chain’s presence in the dressing room (chapter 66) reveals Kim Dan’s elevation in the champion’s life. The dressing room symbolizes privacy and closeness. No longer seen as a mere tool, Kim Dan has become an integral part of Joo Jaekyung’s world, not because of what he can do but because of who he is. (chapter 66) Therefore the champion is holding the expensive gift with his whole hand contrary to the past: (chapter 55) As a conclusion, by bringing him to the sleep specialist, the star proved doc Dan’s words wrong! He told him something that doc Dan didn’t know: he is precious. He needs to pay attention to his health and body.

On the other hand, actions are not enough, in particular for both protagonists. The past words have to be erased, and this can only become effective with encouragement and good compliment. So how should compliments be in order to help the children? For praise to be meaningful, it must be like a deeply rooted plant, not a dandelion seed—grounded in reality, tied to effort rather than ability, and capable of fostering real growth. Moreover, the words have to be specific. Third, the person has to avoid exaggeration and give some motivation, like for example the picture!

The power of words

Mingwa gave us an illustration for a good appreciation: (chapter 66) The champion was praised for doing paperwork. “Good work” was specific, simple and related to an effort. Joo Jaekyung has been patient, diligent and docile in the office. For once, Joo Jaekyung was validated for something outside the ring 😉—something that had nothing to do with his physical strength or his ability to fight. That compliment planted a seed of recognition: his value is not solely tied to his role as a champion. This scene made me laugh because by giving such a flattery, the coach was not realizing that he was pushing his “boy” to take care of administrative tasks. This means that the main lead is destined to become a “white-collar”, a manager!! Kim Dan’s vision should become a reality. (chapter 32) And now, you comprehend why the athlete didn’t fall for Park Namwook’s manipulations afterwards.

When Park Namwook tells Joo Jaekyung, (chapter 66) “I don’t know what you’ve been up to lately…”, it carries an accusatory undertone, subtly suggesting that the champion has been avoiding him. By framing it this way, Park Namwook is not just asking about Joo Jaekyung’s well-being—he is asserting his discontent over losing control. His follow-up suggestion, “Instead of being alone all the time, why not come to the gym?”, reinforces the idea that he sees the gym as a tether, a way to keep Joo Jaekyung within his domain of influence. In addition, he is suggesting that the athlete has been using his injury as an excuse to avoid training. There’s an undertone of doubt and accusation, as if he does not fully believe the champion’s recovery process is valid or necessary. Instead of expressing genuine concern, Park Namwook is subtly framing Joo Jaekyung’s absence as a sign of laziness or avoidance. The small compliment from the manager (“good work”) represents a turning point in the athlete’s life. Park Namwook can no longer treat the athlete like in the past.

But there’s more to it. What caught my attention is that days before, Kim Dan had expressed a huge reproach to the athlete: (chapter 66) This criticism represents the negative version of the manager’s flattery. However, Kim Dan’s words left a huge impact in the champion’s mind and heart for one reason. Through his reproach, he reminded the star that he had a life outside the spotlight and ring. One might say that he was blamed for his bad behavior. Nonetheless his words implied that he viewed the celebrity as an adult, accountable for his actions! Jinx-philes will certainly recall that Park Namwook chastised the celebrity as a spoiled child (chapter 7) (chapter 52) Joo Jaekyung was portrayed as someone with a bad temper and personality. The manager was focusing on the ability, was exaggerating and put pressure on him by using his hand! That’s how it dawned on me why Joo Jaekyung could become resistant to Park Namwook’s short and superficial appreciation. Doc Dan’s harsh words served as an antidote to the manager’s tactics. How so? First, Doc Dan brought up the existence of feelings which Joo Jaekyung has been denying all this time. Then he blamed the champion for his actions and not for his character contrary to the manager!! Therefore he left room for Joo Jaekyung to improve himself. The idiom “always” served as a motivation for the athlete. Here, he could change. That’s why Joo Jaekyung, though hurt and angry, didn’t leave doc Dan’s side. (chapter 65) At the same time, such a disapproval (chapter 64) implies the existence of past hope and expectations. This means that the star has the possibility to revive these buried expectations and hopes by acting differently. By portraying the main lead as a maniac or bad-tempered person, Joo Jaekyung had the impression that he could never change Park Namwook’s perception no matter what he did! The only way to please him was to be in the ring. This was an “immutable truth” which stands in opposition to doc Dan’s criticism (“change”, private life). As you can see, a person can change for the better not because of compliments, but also because of criticisms, a new version of this scene: (chapter 45)

The Impact: A Growing Divide

Striking is that Kim Dan was praised by the protagonist after their first meeting. The champion’s appreciation followed the principles outlined by Delgado: it was specific, effort-based, and motivating. (chapter 1) However, this recognition went completely unnoticed by Kim Dan for three key reasons. First, he was not directly mentioned in the praise, making it difficult for him to associate it with himself. Secondly, Joo Jaekyung didn’t look at him either. Then the star’s phrasing included two negative notions (“not” and “bad”) which subtly diluted the apparent respect behind his words. Rather than perceiving it as validation, Kim Dan likely dismissed it as neutral or indifferent. Finally, it is also important that doc Dan had just made a mistake before (chapter 1), hence his true desire was to run away from that place. For praise to be effective, the recipient must be open to receiving it, either by looking forward to feedback or having expectations of validation. Since Kim Dan was in a state of distress, he was unable to internalize the champion’s words, reinforcing his long-standing belief that he was invisible or unworthy of acknowledgment. That’s how the champion’s praise became a dandelion seed in the end.

Another important detail caught my attention are the grandmother’s praises. (chapter 53) (chapter 61) They are rather inconsistent and conditional. In front of Joo Jaekyung, she commends Kim Dan for his diligence and productivity, emphasizing his value based on his ability to work and fulfill responsibilities. However, when speaking about him in private or when displeased, she reduces him to his supposed vices—calling him a drinker (chapter 65) or a smoker, hiding his sacrifices and the true causes for his struggles. Her words reinforce the idea that Kim Dan is only as good as his usefulness, that love and recognition are earned through labor, not freely given.

With such a mindset imposed on him from childhood, it becomes evident why Kim Dan does not allow himself to take breaks or seek joy for himself. Rest is seen as unearned indulgence rather than a necessity, and self-care is overshadowed by the guilt of not doing enough. His grandmother’s approval was never unconditional; it fluctuated based on how well he served her expectations. This pattern of conditional compliment shaped his self-worth, making him feel unworthy of being cared for unless he was constantly proving himself through actions. What makes this even more striking is that the praise Kim Dan receives from others follows the same pattern as his grandmother’s. Whether it’s his colleagues, the actor, the nurses, or even Park Namwook, their compliments are always tied to his work and productivity—his ability to heal, to endure (chapter 36), or to meet expectations. None of these affirmations recognize him as a person, only as a professional fulfilling a role.

Rather than boosting Kim Dan’s self-esteem, these empty praises widen the gap between how others perceive him and how he sees himself. His inner voice, shaped by years of self-doubt, tells him that he is undeserving of these accolades. Without specific, effort-based recognition, he is unable to recognize his own progress, leaving him trapped in an endless cycle of self-doubt.

A Different Kind of Praise

This is why, as I reflected on these observations, I realized that Joo Jaekyung’s praise must be different. It shouldn’t be about Kim Dan’s work at all. It shouldn’t be another generic statement about how great he is at his job. Instead, it should focus on:

  • Personal Qualities – His resilience, kindness, or courage, rather than his medical skills.
  • Emotional Impact – Expressing how Kim Dan’s presence affects Joo Jaekyung on a deeper level.
  • Small Acts – Noticing the little things Kim Dan does—how he cares, how he listens, how he perseveres.

Joo Jaekyung saying something as simple as “I missed your presence in the penthouse” would mean more than a thousand empty compliments. It would tell Kim Dan that he is wanted as a person, not just needed. That he matters beyond his function as a doctor. This is the type of praise that could truly help Kim Dan break free from his cycle of self-doubt.

And what is the favorite expression which comes to the champion’s mind, when he observes doc Dan’s behavior? (chapter 18) (chapter 45) (chapter 64) (chapter 66) Is this a joke?

Jinx-philes can notice that the champion is associating doc Dan to a JOKE! The problem is that so far the athlete used this idiom in a rather negative context. Kim Dan made the champion smile and laugh! (chapter 40) However, Kim Dan has never realized it. Either he was sleeping or totally out of it (fear of sex) (chapter 27) It is important to recall the importance of the receiver’s mind-set. The latter has to perceive the sincerity from the speaker. Hence I come to the following deduction: The moment Kim Dan notices Joo Jaekyung’s smile and laugh, then he should come to the conclusion that he matters to the protagonist. I would even say, the two protagonists are destined to make each other laugh and smile: (chapter 44) This would be the best “compliment” for both of them. With Kim Dan by his side, Joo Jaekyung desires to make “jokes”. (chapter 61) No wonder why Shin Okja preferred the champion’s company to her own grandson’s. The latter would ooze such negativity and suffering that his presence reinforced her guilty conscience. His grandmother’s mood got spoiled. On the other hand, Mingwa exposed the existence of fake happiness and fun like in this scene: (chapter 58) The friends ignored the main lead’s emotions and struggles. In order to be able to have fun, both main leads must be freed from their past and low self-esteem.

Conclusion: Breaking the Cycle

The title “Prove Me Wrong Again” takes on multiple meanings. On one level, it reflects how Kim Dan’s struggles with self-worth repeatedly override any praise he receives. No matter how much others try to uplift him, his mind tells him otherwise. But on another level, it is a challenge—an opportunity for someone, particularly Joo Jaekyung, to show him that true validation comes from being seen, not just being useful.

Kim Dan does not need grand gestures or overblown words. He needs consistency, sincerity, and reminders that his worth extends beyond his profession. The broken mirror in the illustration reflects the damage done to his self-esteem, but the dandelions? Perhaps they represent the possibility of change—of words that, rather than fading, finally take root. Because the doctor is suffering from depression right now, it is now Joo Jaekyung’s turn to make doc Dan happy, to make him smile and laugh.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Twitter-Tumblr account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Jinx: Wheels 🛞 and Waves 🌊〰️- part 1

The title Wheels and Waves – part 1 captures the tension between confinement and freedom, vulnerability and strength, appearances and hidden truths. Finally, readers could see the grandmother leaving the hospice for a stroll. The irony is that she was not accompanied by her grandson or a caretaker, but by the champion himself. (chapter 65) At first glance, the grandmother’s wheelchair and the ocean seem to represent opposing forces, yet they also reveal a complex relationship between power and vulnerability. Thus in this analysis, I will explore how these elements, rather than simply contradicting each other, might actually reflect a struggle to find balance between dependency and independence.

The grandmother’s conversation with Joo Jaekyung by the ocean raises unsettling questions. Her gentle words suggest concern for Kim Dan’s future (chapter 65), yet her portrayal of him seems unexpectedly harsh—emphasizing his flaws (smoking, drinking). (chapter 65) This description stands in opposition to the gumiho’s statement: he was an angel. (chapter 30) It is because Kim Dan didn’t ask for money or recognition, this gesture was entirely selfless. Why would the lady badmouth the protagonist, when she requested from the champion that he brings the doctor back to Seoul? (chapter 65) Is she genuinely worried for him, or is there a hidden motive behind her request to send him back to Seoul? And why does Joo Jaekyung, usually so straightforward, respond with silence and hesitation (chapter 65) or with shock? (chapter 65)

Meanwhile, Kim Dan’s nocturnal walks seem to oppose the grandmother’s immobility. (chapter 65) His bare feet on the cold ground (chapter 65) suggest a longing for freedom, yet the direction of his steps remains uncertain. Whereas these walks reveal about his inner struggle, they don’t reveal the destination of his nightly strolls. Where was he going during that night? Was he going to the ocean—vast and untamed— like in episode 59, (chapter 65) or had his destination changed? These questions will be answered in the second part.

By examining the tension between appearances and reality, the contrast between confinement and escape, I hope to uncover the true nature of sacrifice and survival in the characters’ life. Wheels and Waves invites you to question what it really means to move forward—and at what cost. But let’s start with the interaction between Shin Okja and Joo Jaekyung.

The grandmother and the ocean

Between CREAK, STEP and TAP

First, it is important to realize that the champion was the one who chose the ocean as a destination. The nurse had only planned to walk around the hospice: (chapter 65) This destination reflects the athlete’s desire and mind-set. He likes this place because it is quiet. (chapter 62) From my perspective, the man has now internalized the beach to nature and privacy. Striking is the way Mingwa introduced the scenery. First, she focused on the wheel and Joo Jaekyung’s feet. (chapter 65) The contrast between the creaking wheels of the grandmother’s wheelchair and the steady steps of the champion immediately establishes the theme of control versus freedom. The wheelchair’s wheels represent civilization, immobility, passivity, and the grandmother’s obsession with control—over her own fate (chapter 65) and Kim Dan’s future. In contrast, Joo Jaekyung’s feet symbolize the potential for naturalness, movement and agency (chapter 65), emphasizing his ability to choose and act, even if he is currently unaware of the extent of the grandmother’s manipulation. I will explain further why I see the grandmother’s conversation as a deception. On the other hand, the rhythm of two steps per two creaks reflects how, despite his apparent strength and independence, the champion is unwittingly aligning himself with the grandmother’s pace and will. He is not realizing that he is actually slowing down, an indication that he will getting closer to rest for real this time. Note that he is no longer running and his steps are more “gentle”. We don’t have any TAP TAP TAP anymore, but STEP STEP.

The focus on the wheels and feet also serves as a prelude to the conflicting worldviews of the two characters. While the grandmother’s immobility reflects her fear of facing reality and her reliance on others to push her forward—both literally and metaphorically—Joo Jaekyung’s steps suggest a willingness not only to move forward, but also to impede. Little by little, he is getting closer to the ocean which means that he is about to confront the unknown represented by the ocean. Yet, the irony lies in the fact that despite his steady steps, the champion is the one being emotionally led by the grandmother’s words and direction.

Furthermore, the choice to highlight the wheels and steps before revealing the larger scenery suggests a gradual unveiling of the truth—both about the grandmother’s intentions and the emotional journey that awaits Joo Jaekyung.

“It’s a nice little town, isn’t it”

By choosing the ocean, Joo Jaekyung subconsciously aligns himself with nature, emotions, and freedom—the very things the grandmother seeks to avoid by emphasizing the beauty of the town. (chapter 65) His choice of destination foreshadows a deeper conflict between confinement and escape, between facing the truth and continuing to live under the illusion of control that the grandmother represents. Another relevant detail is the moment Shin Okja praises the town. Observe the position of her head. We don’t see her gaze because of her hat. But since the town is on the right, this signifies that she isn’t truly looking at the town. (chapter 65) In fact, she is just looking ahead of her. The “nice little town” is reduced to the pathway next to the beach. This observation exposes her narrow-mindedness. Because she is not truly admiring the place, I feel like she is praising the town more based on her childhood memories. This explains why she mentions her youth afterwards. Moreover, the fact that she employed the expression “isn’t it” with her description, reveals her tendency to lead the conversation. It was, as if she pushed the young man to agree to her claim. The irony is that she didn’t even wait for his reply. She explained why she was so fond of the place: her childhood memories. In her eyes, because her companion didn‘t spend his youth here, he can not connect to this town, overlooking that people can create new memories anywhere. Moreover, they are not obliged to live in the same town their whole life or to live where they spent their childhood. In other words, this frail lady has no real notion of time as such. I would even say, her gaze is not truly directed in the present or the future, she is rather obsessed with the past.

The grandmother and the beach

But let’s return our attention to this panel. (chapter 65) Here, the ocean dominates the frame, uncontained and powerful, suggesting that the control and order symbolized by civilization are ultimately limited. The receding wharf becomes a metaphor for the boundaries of this control, emphasizing that beyond a certain point, civilization’s reach falters in the face of nature’s raw power. This shift in focus—from the orderly path along the shore to the turbulent waves beyond— accentuates the futility of the grandmother’s obsession with control, medicine, and structured living. But there’s more to it. Mingwa added the onomatopoeia “Whoosh” in order to indicate the presence of wind. The latter is responsible for the “waves”. Funny is that the halmoni is not paying attention to it at all. We could say that the absence of comments about the ocean and wind divulges her blindness and deafness, and the falsehood of her “wish” expressed in the hospital. In addition, this image is announcing the way the conversation will take place. There won’t be any real exchange of thoughts and as such active listening from her part. She will lead the conversation.

This image contrasts so much to the scene with Kim Dan on the beach: (chapter 59) The contrast between these two images—one of the halmoni accompanied by Joo Jaekyung and the other of Kim Dan sitting alone by the ocean—exposes the stark difference in their emotional worlds and the dynamics of control and isolation that define their lives.

In the first image, (chapter 65) the halmoni’s presence with Joo Jaekyung creates an illusion of support and control. (chapter 65) The sunlight high in the sky bathes the scene in brightness, suggesting a façade of warmth and clarity. This lighting aligns with the halmoni’s belief that she can influence Kim Dan through the champion, using Joo Jaekyung as an intermediary to extend her authority. The fact that she is in a wheelchair, however, subtly contradicts this impression of power, revealing her true state of passivity and reliance on others to act on her behalf. The ocean, tamed by the pathway, symbolizes her attempt to domesticate nature— (chapter 65) just as she tries to domesticate Kim Dan’s emotions and decisions. At the same time, it exposes that the champion is still far away from his true self, but he is getting closer to become “reborn”.

In contrast, the second image of Kim Dan alone at sunset paints a completely different picture. (chapter 59) Here, the setting sun hints at the end of the halmoni’s control over his life, casting a melancholic glow that embodies both the beauty and isolation of freedom. Unlike Shin Okja, doc Dan faces the ocean directly, unprotected by railings or pathways, exposing his vulnerability and willingness to confront the unknown—his emotions, his trauma, and his desire for escape. The absence of others highlights his profound loneliness, a loneliness that even the vastness of the ocean cannot fill but seems to reflect. The parasol, standing solitary like Kim Dan, reinforces the sense of isolation amidst an open space. On the other hand, the walk with the grandmother exposes the superficiality of the champion’s connections. He might know many people, but they aren’t his friends or family.

The sound effects further emphasize this dichotomy. The “whoosh” accompanying the halmoni and Joo Jaekyung suggests the wind—a natural element that moves freely despite the artificial path, subtly mocking the halmoni’s illusion of control. Meanwhile, the “shaa” with Kim Dan reflects the waves, raw and untamed, symbolizing the overpowering emotions he battles alone.

Joo Jaekyung’s perception of the halmoni’s influence over Kim Dan is thus an illusion: (chapter 65) the same illusion that the high sun implies. The latter can not shine if there are clouds. (chapter 65) My avid readers know that the latter usually stand for danger. Thus I come to the following deduction: the clouds represent the doctor’s untreated wounds. The champion’s assumption that the halmoni can sway Kim Dan is a misunderstanding of the true nature of Kim Dan’s struggles. While Joo Jaekyung might see the halmoni’s appeals as genuine, I don’t think, he grasped entirely that her words are merely another form of control, one that Kim Dan subconsciously rejects as he continues to seek solace by the ocean, far from the halmoni’s reach. (chapter 59)

In essence, the halmoni’s daytime stroll represents a false clarity and a temporary illusion of control, while Kim Dan’s solitary sunset confrontation with the ocean was foreshadowing a breaking point—an inevitable dusk for the halmoni’s authority and a prelude to a night where Kim Dan chose escape and freedom but at his own life expense.

Another important detail is the way she initiated the conversation. It was about this pretty community and not her grandson. Why? (chapter 65) It is because she is trying to incite the athlete to return to Seoul. He doesn’t belong here. Her statement, “This is where I grew up. But you’re from Seoul, so you probably don’t see what the fuss is about,” dismisses Joo Jaekyung as an outsider while subtly reasserting her authority. Yes, she is using the same MO than with Kim Dan. (chapter 57) By telling him that he had no ties here, she effectively erased their shared past and portraying him as a stranger in the very place she calls home. Thus I deduce that she is aware that she is racing against time. The longer the athlete stays in that place, the lower are the chances that her grandson will leave this town. She has to ensure that Joo Jaekyung doesn’t feel like settling here. I don’t think, she heard about the athlete’s involvement in the little town, for her only source of information comes from the staff (chapter 65) and the residents from the hospice. She has no connection to the town chief and other inhabitants. This exposes how small her world is and little her knowledge is. However, her ignorance doesn’t make her an innocent “lady”, quite the opposite. – Don’t get me wrong, I don’t see her as a malicious person, just as a selfish person suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome.

Let me give you an example. (chapter 65) Here, she claims that she only knows about the sportsman’s job thanks to the patient next door. However, she is lying, because she watched his match in the States. (chapter 41) The irony is that she is not realizing that she is showing her true colors. (chapter 21) In episode 21, the halmoni’s description of the champion as a “good friend” was, in hindsight, a superficial and self-serving characterization. At that time, she likely saw Joo Jaekyung as someone who could be beneficial for Kim Dan’s financial situation without truly caring about who he was as a person. Her interest in him was more about what he represented—a source of money and stability—rather than any genuine appreciation of his character or the impact of his presence in Kim Dan’s life. Thus she said this in front of the ocean: (chapter 65) If he was a good friend, then why didn’t she show more interest in him before? It is because she needs him now. Yes, this woman is a good-weather friend in the end. The term “good-weather friend” refers to someone who shows interest, support, or kindness only when it is convenient for them or when they stand to gain something. Hence she goes outside, when the sun shines. This perfectly encapsulates the grandmother’s attitude towards Joo Jaekyung. But it is the same with the champion. He only visited her, (chapter 61) when he thought, he needed her assistance. He used her to appear as a friend. (chapter 61) Yes, the conversation at the beach played an important role, for Shin Okja’s behavior serves as a distorted mirror to Joo Jaekyung’s actions and mindset, exposing the flaws and contradictions in both. When she voiced this wish (chapter 65), she exposed her belief: money and big hospital are the symbol for care. That’s exactly what the champion had done in the past.

In episode 22, when Joo Jaekyung paid the bills for the halmoni, (chapter 22) he acted out of a simplistic view of good deeds—believing that financial support alone could resolve problems and fulfill his moral obligations. His subsequent failure to visit her again reflects his tendency to distance himself emotionally once he has performed what he sees as his duty. This is reminiscent of his behavior towards Kim Dan: helping him materially but avoiding deeper emotional involvement or responsibility.

Shin Okja’s current behavior mirrors this mindset but in a more manipulative and self-serving manner. Her sudden interest in Joo Jaekyung now that she needs him exposes how she, too, equates support with utility rather than genuine care. She projects a generous and sacrificial image (chapter 65), much like how Joo Jaekyung likely saw himself when paying her bills—believing that fulfilling a material need is equivalent to showing genuine concern. Park Namwook is a representative of this mind-set too.

  1. Transactional Attitude vs. Emotional Avoidance:
    • Shin Okja’s willingness to praise Joo Jaekyung now that she needs him mirrors how the sportsman’s sense of duty stops at financial aid without further emotional involvement. (chapter 45) Both characters avoid deeper emotional connections, opting instead for transactional solutions—she with her manipulations and he with his money.
  2. Superficial Care:
    • Just as the star’s one-time payment was a way to offload guilt without genuine interaction, Shin Okja’s praise (chapter 65) is a way to offload responsibility for doc Dan while maintaining an image of concern. Both display a form of care that lacks true depth.
  3. Avoidance of Accountability:
    • Shin Okja’s deflection of her failures as a guardian (chapter 65) reflects Joo Jaekyung’s reluctance to confront the emotional and mental consequences of the star towards Kim Dan. Besides, Jinx-lovers should keep in their mind that the champion is the owner of the gym. The incident with the switched spray was swept under the rug, just like the drugged beverage. Everyone involved acts, as if nothing had happened or by saying that the doctor was innocent, the witnesses believe that the damages has been repaired. (chapter 62) Both avoid the emotional accountability that comes with their actions, preferring to distance themselves once a material obligation (debts)(chapter 60) is fulfilled.
  4. Perception vs. Reality:
    • The fact that Joo Jaekyung thought he had done a good deed by paying the bills contrasts sharply with Shin Okja’s sudden friendliness, (chapter 65) which is merely a cover for her self-serving motives. This contrast highlights the theme of perception versus reality: both characters’ actions appear kind on the surface but conceal underlying self-interest or emotional avoidance. Yet, there is a difference between them. The champion had sacrificed his time for the doctor, he made sure to keep the elderly woman company so that Kim Dan could rest. Moreover, he had made her happy, that’s the reason why doc Dan was so grateful. (chapter 22)

In this sense, the halmoni serves as a mirror reflecting the champion’s own flaws back at him—his tendency to equate care with material support and his discomfort with emotional intimacy. The paradox here is that while Joo Jaekyung might see the halmoni’s behavior as genuine concern, it is actually a reflection of his own transactional approach to relationships. Recognizing this mirror might be a crucial part of his redemption arc, forcing him to confront the superficiality of his past actions and understand the difference between real care and transactional gestures. However, it is relevant to recall that the star’s past behavior was nurtured by his own surroundings. MFC and the members from Team Black also treated him as a tool for success and money.

So, the mirroring aspect adds a deeper layer to the conflict between civilization (control and superficial care) and nature (authentic emotions and freedom), reinforcing the idea that Joo Jaekyung must break away from this mindset, if he is to truly connect with Kim Dan.

One might think that they are both shallow and selfish. Yet, there exists a huge difference between them. Joo Jaekyung embodies action and he is now embracing changes. Thus he is willing to do anything to improve their relationship, whereas the grandmother is just waiting at the hospice for the “right time” and the “right person”. She is just reacting to an uncomfortable situation than becoming proactive like the champion. She sees the decline of her grandson’s health, but she is reducing it to insomnia which can be treated with pills and a stay at an expensive hospital. (chapter 65) She is not mentioning his loss of weight on the beach contrary to her comment at the hospice. (chapter 57) This displays that she is not entirely honest. She is not reaching out to Kim Dan in the end. Her excuse is that he refused to see a doctor(chapter 65), but so far we never saw her making such a suggestion. It is possible that she jumped to this conclusion because she heard about this incident: (chapter 60) If my assumption is correct, the woman didn’t realize that this rejection was linked to Joo Jaekyung’s intervention. So if she had talked to her grandchild himself, she could have had an impact… But they are actually avoiding each other. One thing is sure: the absence of communication and avoidance between these two family members reinforced the doctor’s suffering. Imagine the consequences of her request: she is preferring locking him up in a hospital receiving drugs than giving what doc Dan has been longing: warmth, love and a home.

Another contradiction is that while she praised the “little town” in the beginning, she was looking down at this place, when she said: (chapter 65) It was, as if she was insulting the hospice where she is staying and as such the staff (which included Kim Dan).

The problem is that the grandmother has long forgotten this day, (chapter 65) where both were happily smiling. The picture is the evidence that she could make Kim Dan smile despite their poverty. Moreover, it is important to recall that she introduced Kim Dan as an orphan from birth: (chapter 65) According to my hypothesis, this image (chapter 19) is linked to the doctor’s abandonment and betrayal. I have to admit that her attitude and words reminded me a lot of the director Choi Gilseok’s offer. (chapter 48). Both the halmoni and Choi Gilseok embody betrayal and the theme of acting behind the back (chapter 48), weaving a web of deception under the guise of care and concern. The halmoni’s betrayal is subtle but profound—she presents herself as a self-sacrificing guardian, but her true motives are revealed through her willingness to entrust Kim Dan to Joo Jaekyung without genuinely considering his well-being. Her criticisms of Kim Dan’s habits, her attempts to send him back to Seoul, and her selective truths paint a picture of a woman more interested in relieving herself of a burden than providing real support. Her actions behind Kim Dan’s back—discussing him negatively with Joo Jaekyung—further emphasize her betrayal, showing a willingness to manipulate perceptions for her own convenience.

Similarly, Choi Gilseok’s offers of lodging, financial help (chapter 48) and superior medical care (chapter 48) mask a deeper betrayal. His real aim was never to assist but to control, using offers of support as bait to tie Kim Dan into a powerless position. The parallel between his proposition to Kim Dan—promising a better life in exchange for leaking information and compliance—and the halmoni’s push for Seoul’s hospitals underlines their shared strategy: make the target believe they have a choice, while the outcome is already decided. The fact that Heo Manwook, who collects Kim Dan’s debts, called Choi Gilseok “hyung” further hints at a deeper conspiracy, suggesting that the offer might have been a tool to ensnare Kim Dan from the start. He would have committed a crime (illegal drugs).

Both characters act behind the scenes, manipulating others to achieve their goals while maintaining an outward appearance of concern. This duplicity can only deepen the sense of betrayal felt by Kim Dan, whose struggle for freedom becomes not just a battle against overt control but also against the subtle, insidious influence of those who pretend to care. Moreover, she broke her promise, but chose to walk to the ocean with the star. It was, as if the grandmother had been ashamed of her own grandson. The halmoni’s and Choi Gilseok’s actions reveal the painful truth that sometimes, the worst betrayals come from those who claim to love and protect. I made this connection for another reason. The director of the gym is actually the one behind the debts and loan. I doubt that Shin Okja would have trusted Heo Manwook for example. It is important, because the loan is the reason why the champion became a target of schemes. But since the doctor refused to abandon his lover, I am convinced that the champion won’t follow Shin Okja’s suggestion.

Moreover, contrary to the grandmother, the star wants the doctor to agree on his own accord. (chapter 62) That’s the reason why he was seeking the grandmother’s support. He was hoping that she could influence him. But what he hears, shocks him: (chapter 65) She desires the same as him, but she is in the same position than him. She is powerless in front of the doctor’s will. It looks like this walk to the ocean was pointless for the champion. However, it is not true, as the athlete got to see a glimpse of the verity in front of the ocean. He is surprised by this request, because unconsciously he senses it as a “betrayal” and “abandonment”. And keep in mind that the ocean represents freedom, the unconscious mind, emotions, death, and the unknown. The wolf was encouraged to perceive the falsehood of his past believes. Moreover, he was incited to question his own past behavior.

Striking is the way both were placed on the beach. (chapter 65) Though they are next to each other, they are not sitting together. The wheelchair represents the invisible barrier between them. This scene contrasts with the conversation in the penthouse. And what had the athlete done during that night? He had not only shared his thoughts and issues to doc Dan, but he had asked for his wish and opinion. (chapter 29) He had even advised to think of himself first. As you can see, the fact that the two characters were just sitting next to each other reinforces my previous interpretation about the conversation. The grandmother was the one who had been leading the conversation, there is no real exchange of thoughts. In episode 29, the champion refused to accept the doctor’s help and suggestion. That’s the reason why I am more than ever convinced that the star won’t listen to the grandmother.

In other words, she was acting like in the past. How so? (chapter 53) She was asking for a favor again, but this time, she was begging for someone else’s generosity. No wonder why she said that she was still the same! (chapter 65) 😉 And what is her MO? She uses pity and vulnerability to her advantage. Since she is so old and weak, she can not do much for her grandson. In other words, she is showing to the celebrity that vulnerability can be a source of strength, that’s how she could turn her grandson into an obedient puppy. However, this can only work, as long as the “target” is listening to his heart and has not developed his own identity and strength. The wheelchair is the symbol for her powerlessness and passivity. Hence she needs the involvement of a third person. The twist is that her wheelchair is the evidence of her dishonesty. How so? She could go to the beach (chapter 53) and watch the ocean with her grandson (chapter 53), but they never did it. Why? One might respond that she refused to do it. (chapter 57) But it is only partially correct. The doctor only suggested this walk to the ocean much later, when he was already suffering emotionally. This means that the grandmother would have not been able to enjoy this walk. Yes, the timing played a huge role. In fact, she confessed her crime to the star: (chapter 53) She never had any intention to spend some time with him. Notice the personal pronoun “we” vanished. It is only about her request: “I wanted to see the ocean”. This means that at the hospital, she never had any intention to keep Kim Dan by her side. She employed the “with you, we” in order to achieve her goal. She acted, as if they were a family. She used her illness for her own advantage. In my opinion, her request was an excuse to avoid to return to the old broken home. For her, home is a place and not a person. Therefore she couldn’t love Kim Dan properly. Her “I’m so sorry” was actually fake. She had only thought of herself… She never thought of her grandson’s future at all. This observation corroborates my previous statement: she is unable to plan for the future. What only matters to her is the past or the present. Why? It is because she doesn’t want to be plagued by remorse or regrets. And now, she is doing it again with the champion. Using emotions and fragility for her own benefits. The paradox is that this is something Joo Jaekyung has always feared his whole life. Nonetheless, he doesn’t react so violently like in the past: rejection or outburst. One might say the reason is that she is weak and terminally ill. (chapter 65) However, I believe that her words reached the champion’s third eye. The latter was not focusing on the grandmother, but on his fated companion. He was trying to understand why he had changed. This question was already on his mind before: (chapter 62) And notice that the words from the grandmother (chapter 65) in front of the water reflects the champion’s intentions: (chapter 62) Once he has achieved his goal (reclaim his champion title), they will depart from each other. He would treat the doctor the same way than the grandmother! No wonder why doc Dan is getting angry and rejecting the offers from his destined partner. IT is only about his own selfish desires and not about doc Dan’s future and desires. Both have a similar mind-set: they don’t know what doc Dan plans to do with his life and the future…. And it shows that Joo Jaekyung was imitating the grandmother, though this suggestion was born from the following thought. Since Doc Dan was no reluctant to work for him, he imagined that maybe he would still accept to work for him for a limited time. But that’s not what Kim Dan is looking. He is longing for a home and at the same time for freedom.

On the other hand, though Shin Okja tried to use the same MO with the celebrity, it is clear that she is destined to fail. Let’s not forget that his private conversation took place outside, in front of the ocean, and the latter represents reflection and unconscious. Hence Joo Jaekyung voiced his hesitation constantly: (chapter 65) (chapter 65) The points of suspension are indicating that he is meditating on her words and suggestions. This stands in opposition to his past behavior where he got manipulated so easily. (chapter 36) The reason for this huge metamorphosis is that because of the lavender-tinted night, he learned to control his emotions. (chapter 65) He was forced to admit that he needed the “hamster”. He knew that if he reacted on these negative emotions, doc Dan would have another reason to put the blame on him. Consequently, his goal would be much further away. Secondly, though the conversation was private, their encounter was far from secretive. Both were visible, as it took place during the day. This means that the grandmother’s words in front of the ocean symbolize that they are in the open. (chapter 65) So they should reach the doctor’s ears. And this observation leads me to my next connection, the grandmother’s deceptions.

Shin Okja’s lies

What caught my attention is this image combined with the grandmother’s claim (chapter 65) According to her, Kim Dan has never introduced her to any of his friends. The celebrity would be the exception! But she is lying here. How so? Joo Jaekyung introduced himself to her on his own. It is because he answered a call from the nurse. (chapter 21) It happened behind doc Dan’s back in the end. The latter was sick, but the old lady didn’t seem concerned. The second lie is this statement which is exposed with the memory: (chapter 65) The panel depicting the halmoni holding an infant Kim Dan offers a complex portrayal of her character—one that blends guilt, self-victimization, and manipulation. Her downcast eyes and the way she cradles the child suggest a mix of regret and weariness, but this expression lacks the warmth expected of a caring guardian. She is not smiling, only feeling pity for the “poor child”. Instead, the scene gives off a performative air, as if she is convincing herself (and, by extension, Joo Jaekyung) that she was indeed a dedicated guardian who did her best. The dark, muted background only deepens this impression, isolating her and the child in a way that hints at unresolved guilt and a lack of genuine affection.

Her words, “I tried my best to raise him, but it was never enough,” carry a double meaning. On one hand, they paint her as a martyr who struggled valiantly despite overwhelming odds. On the other, they imply a subtle judgment of Kim Dan, as if his troubles were a reflection of his own failings (greed) rather than a result of her negligence. The emphasis on “never enough” shifts the focus from Kim Dan’s suffering to her own perceived sacrifices, turning the conversation away from her shortcomings and towards her self-proclaimed burden. This choice of words aligns with her tendency to externalize blame, presenting herself as a victim of circumstances rather than acknowledging her role in Kim Dan’s suffering.

The portrayal of Kim Dan as an infant rather than as the grown man he is now exposes a deeper layer of control. By framing the memory this way, the halmoni preserves her position as the ultimate decision-maker in his life, reinforcing the notion that he is incapable of making his own choices. This imagery ties directly into the theme of Peter Pan Syndrome—the idea that Kim Dan, in her eyes, is perpetually a child who must be protected and guided, even if this means denying him the agency to confront his past and shape his own future. However, this is just a projection of herself. This infantilization serves her interests by keeping him emotionally dependent and by masking her own failings as a guardian.

Moreover, the halmoni’s repeated use of the word “never” (chapter 65) (chapter 65) (chapter 65) is not a mere slip of the tongue but a deliberate linguistic tool to control the narrative. In this context, “never enough” serves a dual purpose: it downplays her own responsibility while subtly casting Kim Dan as a source of endless trouble and dissatisfaction. This manipulation of language highlights a broader pattern in her behavior—her use of selective truths to paint herself as a victim of fate, rather than a participant in the decisions that led to Kim Dan’s suffering. Her words echo the myth she has carefully constructed of herself as the sacrificing grandmother who did everything she could, even as the dark atmosphere of the panel suggests otherwise.

The dark background, devoid of warmth or light, not only isolates the halmoni and Kim Dan but also symbolizes her repressed guilt and closed-off perspective. By presenting herself as the victim of an ungrateful or inherently troubled child (chapter 65), she avoids confronting the real roots of Kim Dan’s suffering—such as the bullying, the debts, and the truth about his parents. For her, it would have been better if he had been raised by his parents. This is what she implied: she could never replace them. (chapter 65) It is important because it exposes her traditional mind-set overlooking that certain parents are unfit guardians. Secondly, with her own words, she legitimated the kids’ bullying. This explicates why she didn’t intervene in the end. What I had interpreted in the past was confirmed in this episode. She represents civilization and as such social norms. Therefore she is a representative of herd mentality. She accepted the kids’ bullying as truth which led to Kim Dan’s isolation. And now, you comprehend why she is not mentioning the harassment from the past. (chapter 65) Here, note that the little boy is wearing the same clothes than in the doctor’s nightmare. (chapter 57) She claims her ignorance why the little boy acted like an adult at such a young age. The reality is that she hasn’t forgotten the incident at all. This explicates why she confessed this to the “wolf”: (chapter 65) And who is to blame for her seclusion? Kim Dan who refused to introduce her to his friends. The irony is that Kim Dan mentioned her to the actor Choi Heesung, (chapter 30) a sign that she was never a source of embarrassment for him. (chapter 65) The truth is that she wanted him to mature quickly so that he could take her burden. (chapter 47) Her refusal to address these deeper issues reveals that her sacrifices were less about genuine care and more about maintaining her self-image as a righteous guardian. (chapter 65) The absence of any visible light or open space in the panel reinforces the idea that her perspective is narrow, unwilling to confront the broader context of Kim Dan’s pain and isolation.

In essence, this panel illustrates how the halmoni’s portrayal of herself as a sacrificing guardian is a carefully crafted narrative. Her use of language, the infantilization of Kim Dan, and the dark visual elements all work together to expose the underlying hypocrisy of her actions. She is not seeing Kim Dan as a man in the end (“sweet boy”). By framing herself as a victim of circumstances, she manages to absolve herself of guilt while keeping Kim Dan emotionally trapped in a narrative of helplessness and dependency. Far from being a scene of genuine regret or love, this moment reveals the true nature of her sacrifices—self-serving acts designed to control the narrative and shift the blame away from her own failures. That’s the reason why she is not bringing up the debts either. Under this light, you comprehend why she portrays Kim Dan in such a negative light: he is a drinker and smoker. (chapter 65) It is because of his personality: he was an orphan and had no real parents to guide him properly. Hence he didn’t listen to her nagging. The irony is that readers never saw her showing concerns about his drinking or smoking habits before. For me, it exposes her passivity and accountability. And what is her MO? She uses the past to justify her request. But the past is no longer valid, for the doctor has grown up. He is no longer smoking for example. She can only use the past, because she stopped living with him. Hence she has no idea how and where he is living right now. She is overlooking that she could have done something: refuse to let him carry the bags or take his hand (chapter 65), talk to him properly and listen to him. But she did not, she used food as a diversion. Walk silently by his side… Like expressed before, this senior stands for secrecy, shame and taboo.

As long as Kim Dan was working and paying off the debts, everything was fine. But now, she is noticing that he is showing signs of illness, but she doesn’t want to feel accountable for that. But there is more to it. In my eyes, Shin Okja never trusted the main lead. It is because of her own lies. She had told him, if he kept working, he would be able to pay off the debts. (chapter 18) What caught my attention in her revelation is her lack of enthusiasm for her own grandson. (chapter 65) “Is he that good?” exposes a lack of faith in her grandchild, a remark which caught the athlete by surprise. For me, he unconsciously sensed this negative aspect. (chapter 65) While this image is actually humorous, the grandmother’s words don’t match her body language. She is not showing any joy or smile. Therefore I comprehend why Kim Dan was so hurt by the champion’s behavior: (chapter 51), the absence of trust because of MONEY! She knew, he was drinking and smoking. Yet according to her, she couldn’t stop him, as she was powerless. He wouldn’t listen to her nagging. But here is the thing. She never asked him why he would act this way. Drinking and smoking were the only things he could allow himself as “fun and diversion”. In her long confession, she is diverting the attention from the causes for this rebellious behavior. Indirectly, she is portraying him as a stubborn boy who can not live on his own. In reality, she is just projecting her own desires and thoughts onto her grandson. For her, the city stands for wealth, fame, success and power. (chapter 65) I am suspecting that deep down, she wants him to shine for her own peace of mind. (chapter 41) Don’t forget that she has been living through him. But Seoul is related to Kim Dan’s suffering: the debts, sexual assault, violence from the loan sharks, the bullying, ,, his “failures” (prostitution, the switched spray), mockery and rejection. So he has nothing there that would draw him back to the city so far. On the other hand, her words imply that the doctor can not lead a good life here (chapter 65), as if there was nothing good in this place. So is this little town nice or not? She is looking down on that place, though she doesn’t realize it.

Captain Hook and his t-shirt

Since the grandmother is suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome, it becomes clear that she views Kim Dan as a lost boy. But she considers the athlete the same way: (chapter 65) Observe that she employed the expression “almost” here. This idiom is even recurrent in her vocabulary (chapter 65) and it is not anodyne. It symbolizes her conditional love and support. That’s why the athlete is almost a grandson. The paradox is that the champion embodies adulthood and as such Captain Hook. That’s why he was racing against time in season 1. Hence he is responsible for the grandmother’s deteriorating health, as the expensive treatment was more an experiment. But here is the thing. Notice what the young man is wearing. (chapter 65) The T-shirt that Joo Jaekyung wears, emblazoned with the words “Peek a Boo” in a spiral pattern, is far from a random detail. Its presence in the scene with the halmoni adds a layer of irony and serves as a visual metaphor for the nature of deception and hidden truths. The game Peek a Boo is typically associated with infants— a playful way for parents to teach children about object permanence, the idea that things continue to exist even when they are out of sight. However, in the context of this scene, it takes on a darker significance, highlighting how the halmoni manipulates what is seen and unseen to maintain control over Kim Dan’s life and, now, over Joo Jaekyung’s perception of the situation.

The spiral arrangement of “Peek a Boo” mirrors the cyclical nature of the grandmother’s manipulation tactics. Much like the game itself, where the face reappears only to disappear again, the halmoni presents selective truths, allowing glimpses of her vulnerability and supposed selflessness while concealing the deeper reality of her motives. This back-and-forth between what is shown (chapter 65) and what is hidden keeps Joo Jaekyung—and even Kim Dan—in a state of uncertainty and guilt, making it difficult for them to see through her facade. The spiral could also represent a descent into deeper layers of deceit and emotional entanglement, suggesting that the more Joo Jaekyung becomes involved, the harder it will be to hide the truth.

On a symbolic level, Peek a Boo ties directly to the halmoni’s treatment of Kim Dan. As a child, Kim Dan was deprived of a real parental figure who could engage with him honestly and lovingly. When he talked the first time, she didn’t reply or smile. His words were met with silence. That’s how he created a negative perception of himself. The halmoni’s refusal to play simple games like Peek a Boo—games that help children develop a sense of identity and emotional security—suggests that Kim Dan’s early emotional needs were systematically neglected. The memories are revealing her passivity and negative thoughts. This absence of genuine interaction is paralleled by her current behavior: her reluctance to openly discuss his past, the bullying, and the truth about his parents. By avoiding such confrontations, she has effectively kept Kim Dan in a state of perpetual insecurity and self-doubt, much like a child who has not yet grasped the concept of object permanence.

Moreover, the game Peek a Boo also involves a degree of deception—the face that disappears and reappears, creating a mix of surprise and relief. This aligns with how the halmoni reveals just enough of the truth to seem trustworthy, while keeping the more damaging parts hidden. Her feigned helplessness and the way she strategically reveals information to Joo Jaekyung—such as her portrayal of Kim Dan’s drinking and smoking habits—are part of a calculated act to elicit sympathy and compliance. By making Kim Dan appear troubled and unreliable, she diverts attention from her own failures as a guardian. Her trust is conditional: (chapter 65) She wants him to follow her request. So what will she do, if he refuses? Moreover, she doesn’t know that the athlete has already created connections with the local inhabitants. The landlord and neighbor has an interest to keep these two young men in that place: he feels less lonely. (chapter 61) Finally, it is important that the athlete never agreed to her “demand” or suggestion. (chapter 65)

Ironically, Joo Jaekyung’s naive acceptance of her words shows that he, too, is caught in this game of Peek a Boo. He believes that by getting through to the halmoni, he can reach Kim Dan’s true feelings, not realizing that the halmoni is using this access to manipulate both of them. The T-shirt becomes a bitter reminder of the gap between appearances and reality—how the champion’s straightforwardness is no match for the halmoni’s subtle control of the narrative.

In essence, the Peek a Boo T-shirt encapsulates the main themes of deception, control, and the struggle to see past appearances. It reflects how the halmoni’s manipulations are not merely a means of survival but a way to maintain her dominance over both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. Just as in the game, the truth is never fully revealed—only glimpsed in fleeting moments, distorted and reshaped to serve her ends.

Conclusion

This selective blindness extends to her treatment of Kim Dan. She speaks of his smoking and drinking habits with a judgmental tone, implying that his actions are signs of moral failure rather than coping mechanisms for his trauma. Her refusal to address the bullying incident—a pivotal moment in Kim Dan’s life—is part of this broader pattern of denial. If she cannot acknowledge the cause of his suffering, she can continue to frame herself as the sacrificing guardian who did her best. This evasion is also evident in her avoidance of the ocean, a symbol of emotions, danger, and the freedom that she refuses to confront. That’s why her request is doomed to fail. But there is another reason why Shin Okja’s favor won’t be fulfilled. (chapter 65) It is because she doesn’t care about the champion’s mental and emotional well-being. By making such a request, she is pushing him to return to work and as such disregard his mental and emotional issues. Just like Kim Dan, the wolf needs vacancy and rest. He needs to enjoy the present and make good memories so that he can finally sleep properly. Nevertheless, I do see a small change in her, because for the first time, she asked for someone else’s help. Moreover, she is mentioning her death (chapter 65), a sign that she is gradually accepting her mortality. On the other hand, her statement “I’ll go, when my time comes” is linking walk with death, But here, she is not walking, she is using the wheelchair! This means that as long as she is not walking, she won’t die. It is her effort to push away the inevitable. She is giving the impression that she has control over her life, but deep down, she knows that she is powerless. Therefore I perceive her final words as a deception as well. But there’s more to it. The fact that she is expressing her fear that her grandson might die before her is exposing her fear of responsibility. I would even say, her words imply that she has already witnessed the suicidal tendencies of a person in the past (that would be the parent). That’s why she suggested to the owner of Team Black to send him to a huge hospital and drugs (confinement).

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or Manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Jinx: Prison Of Glass 🪟, Key 🔑 Of Time ⏲️

Time has always been a subtle but powerful force in Jinx, shaping the actions and mindsets of its characters in ways that they themselves barely perceive. In season 1, I had compared Kim Dan to Sleeping Beauty (chapter 13), who had been awakened by the champion, though contrary to the fairy tale, this arising was associated with pain. [For more read the analysis Painful awakening of Sleeping Beauty🤼‍♂️💕] What caught my attention is that in season 2 Joo Jaekyung was still himself trapped in temporal stasis too. (chapter 60) But how did they ended up both cursed by the same spell? The reason is simple. They were either halted by guilt and self-loathing or distorted by the desperate need to escape a traumatic past. Yet, amidst this stasis, small cracks are beginning to appear, suggesting that the flow of time cannot be denied forever. The past can not be repeated (chapter 64) or become the present or future. At the heart of this struggle lie symbols of doors, windows, and reflections—metaphors for how both characters perceive their realities and their chances of breaking free.

Interestingly, while Kim Dan became aware of the passage of time in Season 1 (chapter 44), he still does not fully include himself in this awareness. His concern was limited to his grandmother’s limited time (chapter 59), reflecting his selfless role as a caregiver. As someone who has long allowed others to define his time—whether as a physical therapist or as a prostitute—Kim Dan has yet to acknowledge his own mortality. Even during the lavender-tinted night, while he determined the length (chapter 64) and nature of the encounter (chapter 62), he did so for the sake of debts, not for himself. (chapter 64) The recent death of the puppy serves as a stark reminder (chapter 59) that he is not exempt from time’s reach, that he too is aging and vulnerable. But the doctor failed to recognize this warning. He only viewed it as a sign of his own powerlessness, reducing it from his own perception. He overlooked the fragility of life as such.

Meanwhile, Joo Jaekyung’s struggle is equally profound. By meditating before an expansive window (chapter 35), he created an illusion of freedom that only masked his deeper confinement—his glass prison. When Kim Dan closed the door and left (chapter 64), the illusion shattered, revealing the reality of his loneliness. The jinx, (chapter 55) once confined to the bedroom, now permeates his entire life, binding him to a past shaped by his abuser’s cruel words.

The Window: Illusions of Freedom

Joo Jaekyung’s habit of meditating in front of the window in his penthouse seemed, at first glance, like an attempt to find peace. (chapter 55) The view created an illusion of openness and freedom, masking the reality of his confinement. Glass, by its very nature, is transparent—a barrier that is invisible yet unbreakable, creating a false sense of freedom. The window’s clarity hid the fact that it was, in truth, an impassable wall that confined him, turning the promise of escape into a cruel irony. By focusing on the horizon, he could avoid looking inward, denying the unresolved trauma left by his anonymous abuser. (chapter 54) The ghost’s words,  (chapter 54) were designed to create the illusion of eternity—as if time itself was under the phantom’s control. This assertion not only sought to freeze Joo Jaekyung in a perpetual state of inadequacy but also to distort his perception of change as impossible. Trapped in a cycle of hatred and self-loathing, the athlete’s vision of freedom was limited to the false infinity of the horizon. (chapter 53) And now, you comprehend why the champion chose not to look for Kim Dan after his departure. He was so close to the window, making him think that he had a “choice”. That’s how I realized that the closer he would stand to the window, the less he would get Enlightenment. Hence he is portrayed eyeless here. (chapter 53) Ironically, the window—symbol of escape—became his glass prison, a barrier that reflected the endlessness of his struggle rather than a path to liberation.

In contrast, Kim Dan faced a broken, opaque window in his grandmother’s home (chapter 19) —a window that offered no view of the outside world. This reflected his entrapment in a life defined by guilt and sacrifice, unable to envision a future beyond repaying debts and fulfilling duties. The window’s visible cracks and makeshift repairs represent not only the physical deterioration of their environment but also the psychological fragmentation within Kim Dan himself. By choosing to patch the window rather than replace it, Shin Okja’s actions reflect a mentality of denial and resignation—an unwillingness to confront the full extent of their impoverishment and suffering.

This refusal to replace the broken window (chapter 19) suggests a deeper symbolic resistance to change or moving forward. In a sense, the grandmother’s decision to live with the broken window mirrors her acceptance of a life defined by limitations and unspoken grief. (chapter 19) It implies a preference for preserving a fragile status quo over embracing the uncertainty of transformation. For Kim Dan, who grew up in this environment, the broken window became a constant reminder that his world was fractured yet stagnant—a prison where time seemed to stand still, marked by routines of survival rather than progress.

Moreover, the window’s damage also serves as a visual metaphor for Kim Dan’s own brokenness, his unresolved trauma, and his sense of abandonment. The act of looking through a cracked and dirty window obscures the view of the outside world, just as Kim Dan’s perception of the future is clouded by past wounds and insecurities. Unlike Joo Jaekyung’s glass prison—clear but impassable—Kim Dan’s window is both broken and opaque, reinforcing the sense that he cannot even see what lies beyond his current existence, let alone escape it.

The grandmother’s passive acceptance of the broken window further exposes her powerlessness. It’s not merely about financial inability; it reflects a mental state of giving up—a resignation to a life where even repairing what’s broken seems pointless. In this context, the window becomes a symbol of Kim Dan’s psychological inheritance—a learned helplessness that prevents him from fully embracing the flow of time and the possibility of change. When he sat in front of that broken window, turning his back to the door, it symbolized his abandonment issues—an unconscious reenactment of being left behind. His world grew smaller with each passing day, suffocating him to the point of nightmares where he struggled to breathe.

The Door: Abandonment and Isolation

The motif of doors carries a dual significance in Jinx. On one hand, the fighter’s words in Episode 51 (chapter 51) served as the key that triggered Kim Dan’s abandonment trauma. How so? While “get out of my sight” implied that Kim Dan should leave him, the reality is that the champion left the locker room first. (chapter 51) Observe how the “hamster” is once again turning his back to the door. However, the bloody footprints became an evidence for Kim Dan that he had been abandoned and left behind. And now, you comprehend why the main lead took the athlete’s request seriously and literally. It is because the door in the past was the symbol of betrayal and abandonment. This explicates why he is so sensitive to the sound of a closing door and could recognize it, even if his ears and eyes were covered. (chapter 35)

As a child, he had been turning his back to the door, while he was talking over the phone. (chapter 19) According to my hypothesis, this memory announces the moment of the parent’s abandonment. Thus I deduce that when unconsciously, he came to associate the door with desertion. No wonder why he woke up, when he sensed the lack of warmth in the bed: (chapter 21) Consequently, I interpret the following scene like this: (chapter 19) When he was standing here, he must have sensed it as a betrayal against his own grandmother. Hence he employed the expression “goodbye” and not “farewell” to diminish his guilt. No wonder why he chose to hide his move from his relative and bring the Wedding Cabinet to the penthouse. Under this new perspective, my avid readers can grasp why Kim Dan’s nightmares in season 2 were linked to the opened door: (chapter 57) His unconscious was telling him this: Shin Okja had broken her promise. She was about to abandon him. He had the impression that he was reliving the past. That’s the reason why he was scared and suffering. (chapter 57) In addition, I believe that his unconscious was pushing him to come clean with the past, to reveal the changes in his life. It was impossible for both of them to keep such unreal promises. (chapter 11)

Because of the champion’s action in episode 51, the door became synonymous with rejection, with the fear of being cast aside at any moment. However, this time the association was more conscious. The open door in Kim Dan’s nightmare, where the halmoni had vanished, represented his deepest fear of being left alone in darkness. And what is he doing now? He is afflicting the same pain to his lover (chapter 64)

But there’s more to it. I had long outlined that the little boy was talking over the phone, when he recalled this moment. (chapter 19) That’s how he came to associate the telephone with betrayal and abandonment. Therefore it is no coincidence that the “hamster” was not calling Shin Okja either, when she was at the hospital. Joo Jaekyung’s inability to call Kim Dan (chapter 56) revealed the existence of a past trauma. It highlighted his own fear of abandonment and rejection—an emotion he had long denied. The door, a supposed barrier against the outside world, now stood as a reminder of all he had pushed away, including his own need for connection. Therefore he never left his door open in the penthouse: (chapter 55) That’s why I perceive this scene as an important step for Kim Dan himself: (chapter 64) By opening and closing the door, he is overcoming his abandonment issues. He becomes the ruler of his own life (time and relationship). He is freeing himself from the mental torment which readers could witness in earlier episodes.

However, the door symbolizes another notion: secret! Thus Mingwa created this sex session behind a closed door: (chapter 24) The physical therapist has kept his past trauma a secret. And what is the synonym for “secret”? Key! So when the main lead leaves the champion behind (chapter 64), he doesn’t realize that he is exposing the existence of his “secret”. In verity, he is actually inviting Joo Jaekyung to open the door and as such find this secret. In his mind, he is excluding his partner, whereas in truth the opposite is happening. Don’t forget that in episode 24, Kim Dan desired to hide the truth from Potato (chapter 24), yet the latter didn’t get fooled at all. He found out the true nature of their relationship. (chapter 64) By leaving, Kim Dan unwittingly presents Joo Jaekyung with the opportunity—or perhaps even the challenge—to find the ‘key’ to understanding him. This key is not just about uncovering past traumas but also about unlocking the true nature of their relationship—transforming it from a transactional arrangement into something genuine and emotionally honest.

The Wedding Cabinet: A Prison of Timelessness

In the absence of a transparent window, (chapter 19) the Wedding Cabinet in Kim Dan’s home functioned both as a mirror and a false window, preserving an illusion of timelessness. (chapter 19) Unlike the rest of the dilapidated house (chapter 10), the cabinet remained pristine, suggesting a futile attempt to halt the passage of time and maintain the status quo. (chapter 53) By throwing it away, Kim Dan unknowingly released time from its prison, breaking the spell that his grandmother’s control had cast over him. This act was not just a rejection of his past but an unconscious acknowledgment that time was moving forward—that he could no longer live as if he were already dead. Simultaneously, this gesture symbolizes his separation from his grandmother, breaking the illusion of perpetuity that she maintained. So while he might have been by her side physically (chapter 53), he was deep down miles away from her emotionally and mentally. This observation explains why he could object to her suggestion. (chapter 57) On the one hand, it shows that he was maturing, on the other hand as a young adult, it is clear that he is destined to make mistakes. He has always defined himself as the caregiver, but he forgot his own true nature: he is a human before anything else. And what is the definition of humanity? I would say, the capacity of benevolence and the inevitability of mistakes. It reflects the dual nature of human existence—the potential for compassion, kindness, and altruism on one side, and the propensity for mistakes, weaknesses, and moral failings on the other. And that’s exactly what the doctor has been mirroring to the champion in the lavender-tinted bedroom: (chapter 64) Joo Jaekyung was in his eyes a human, and not a champion. The irony is that with this idiom “always”, he is implying that he had hopes and expectations. The athlete would change and treat him better. Since the doctor has always been the embodiment of “selflessness”, the gods made sure to remind him of his own true nature: “mistakes”. That’s why he is often making blunders (chapter 1) to the point that I called him “Mister Mistake”. (chapter 43) On the other hand, his missteps are there to teach the fighter to drop his perfectionism and to bring the notion of entertainment in his fated partner’s life. Kim Dan is funny in his own way.

In religious contexts, errors are often framed as sins, accentuating the moral dimension of human actions and the necessity of redemption or forgiveness. This duality suggests that to be human is not only to strive for virtue but also to acknowledge and learn from one’s imperfections. The very ability to err, seek forgiveness, and change is seen as an intrinsic part of the human experience. This new perception reinforces my previous interpretation: the existence of champion’s jinx was indirectly questioned, when Kim Dan reminded his lover of his own true nature. He is a sinner. (chapter 64) He doesn’t respect humans in general. The irony is that by criticizing Joo Jaekyung, the doctor is overlooking his own nature. He is also a sinner.

(chapter 57) Is it a coincidence that the doctor’s cold attitude takes place in chapter 60 -64? (chapter 61) No, as the number 6 sounds similar to sex. Moreover, don’t forget that Satan’s number is strongly associated with 6 (666 or 616). From my point of view, the “hamster” is on his way to become an adult and as such a sinner as well. The physical therapist’s stubbornness reminded me of the behavior of a teenager who believes to know everything about life, while in verity, such people lack experiences. And what did the nurse say about the main lead? (chapter 57) He should nurse himself for his halmoni’s sake so that the latter wouldn’t worry. From my point of view, if doc Dan gets sick, he could be the catalysator for her deteriorating health. But now, it is time to return our attention to the “champion”.

The Abuser’s Shadow: A Timeless Sentence

Joo Jaekyung saw himself as a god who could turn time back: (chapter 61) But why did he want to return to the past? It is because of the ghost’s criticism (chapter 54) ‘You’ve never been good at anything’ were designed to freeze Joo Jaekyung in time, trapping him in a mental prison where change was impossible. I would even add, the mysterious person gave a negative connotation to “change”. On the one hand, the champion was pushed to prove the tormentor’s statement wrong, on the other hand, this implied that one “loss” would be perceived as a validation of the ghost’s claim. This signifies that his obsession with maintaining his title stemmed not from pride but from a desperate need to refute the man’s statement. We could say that the fighter fought not out of fun, but out of hatred and fears. (chapter 29) That’s why he was on survival modus and could never refuse any challenge. By associating sex with endurance and control (chapter 2), he replicated the sports-like expectations imposed by his abuser—likely someone from the medical or sports world who viewed him not as a human but as an asset. This means that despite the distance, this invisible abuser was still ruling over the athlete’s life exposing the falsehood of his belief: self-reliance. He was still acting as a helpless person. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Joo Jaekyung had to leave the penthouse with its huge windows. By leaving this place behind, he was actually moving away from the abuser’s claws, similar to the doctor’s move in episode 19.

So when Kim Dan’s words are here challenge this narrative. By accusing Joo Jaekyung of treating him like a doll, he inadvertently exposed the athlete’s own objectification at the hands of his abuser. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung is confronted with the possibility that he has been living as a reflection of his tormentor, not as himself. That’s the reason why he is placed with Kim Dan on the bed in the same position as his abuser: (chapter 64) (chapter 54) Imagine: it was, as though he had become the same person than his tormentor. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the champion had to turn around doc Dan before his climax. It is because he feared his lover’s gaze. I would even add, he was unconsciously projecting himself in the “hamster’s place”. Yes, deep down, he is still a child, exactly like Kim Dan. (chapter 57) But contrary to the physical therapist, we don’t know how the champion looked like as a “child”. So when the teenager closes the door, he is taught not only that he is alone (chapter 64), but also that he has lived in a mental prison too. His fated companion made him realize the positive side of change! The ghost is also a mortal, he can not control time either. He is aging as well. By distorting the past (chapter 64), the fighter is encouraged to question his own past and narrative, in particular his feelings. (chapter 54) What he felt back then, is no longer the same! All this time, he rejected emotions because he feared attachment and betrayal. The reality is that he was still feeling emotions (fears, resentment) and allowed them to rule his life. But now, he is feeling something: attachment, pleasure and warmth. (chapter 64) That’s why the door (chapter 64) becomes the place of Joo Jaekyung’s Enlightenment. (chapter 64) Hence the author focused on his wide opened gaze. Kim Dan’s intervention was painful but necessary, because through this reflection, the athlete’s motivation to fight is bound to change. In the future, the fight won’t be deadly serious like before, he won’t act like a tyrant in the ring where he couldn’t control his rage. (chapter 1) He will see his opponent as an artist too.

The Key of Time: Acceptance and Change

If the Wedding Cabinet symbolized a frozen past and a fake future (chapter 19), then the key to breaking this spell lies in accepting the passage of time. (chapter 53) Kim Dan’s act of discarding the cabinet was the first turn of this key, an unconscious decision to face mortality and change. He was embracing the unknown. And if the champion chose to retrieve it and became his new owner, I come to the following interpretation: the Wedding Cabinet will become the symbol of loyalty and a precious memory linked to Shin Okja. He definitely had a good time (chapter 21) with her, because he felt treasured. (chapter 61)

Similarly, Joo Jaekyung’s growing awareness of his own emotions (chapter 63) —no matter how reluctantly—represents the second turn. With the doctor’s cold rejection, he is forced to choose: What does he want in life? Only the champion title or something else? (chapter 64)

By recognizing the difference between the star and the human Joo Jaekyung, he can finally start to separate his identity from the expectations of his abuser. For the first time, he may come to see the title not as his existence but as a part of it—something that can be let go without losing himself. And this brings me back to my previous observation: the symbol of the window in the athlete’s life! (chapter 64) My avid readers will certainly recognized that in that hostel room, the window is covered by curtains! Besides, the bed is placed in front of it implying that the person can not meditate in the bed while looking at the window. That’s why the celebrity is turning his back to the window. Kim Dan is his reflection and as such the key to his release. This means, the bedroom loses its meaning as a fake place for “introspection”. Joo Jaekyung is destined to follow doc Dan in the end. Hence the latter will become his hyung. For me, there’s no doubt that through this confrontation, the athlete’s respect for Kim Dan can only increase. (chapter 64) He voiced his own thoughts and emotions without raising his voice or using violence which contrasts to Park Namwook. Joo Jaekyung’s gaze reveals no resentment or anger, just disbelief and realization. So if he starts following the doctor’s lead, I can only come to the deduction that he has to leave the room. So his feet should lead him to nature, if he doesn’t follow his lover directly. Since water is the place where he feels comfortable (chapter 27), and he noticed the quietness of the ocean (chapter 62), I am expecting that he will go to the beach. A new version of this scene: (chapter 59) But this time, that would be a conscious choice. That’s how he will reconnect with his true self for good. But strangely, I am expecting that he won’t be on his own. I am quite certain that this man will make a similar experience than the grandmother: (chapter 53) However, from my point of view, Joo Jaekyung should witness the sunrise and not sunset… which would announce his rebirth. There was only one sunset in season 1, which was linked to Shin Okja’s mortality: (chapter 47). Moreover, in season 1 and 2, the doctor was often connected to the sunset: (chapter 1) (chapter 17) And we had the beach here in the background. (chapter 48) This was an ominous sign for the champion’s symbolic “death” and rebirth. Sun and moon are natural tools to determine the flow of time.

Conclusion: The Time of Liberation

As time resumes its flow, both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung are being forced to confront the illusions that have kept them trapped. The glass prisons of windows and mirrors, the locked doors of abandonment, and the preserved Wedding Cabinet are all starting to crumble, revealing the path forward. They are about to receive their final life lessons: no one is powerful in front of time. Time can heal as much as it can destroy. They should enjoy their life due to its brevity.

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