Jinx: The Hidden 🐍 Predators đŸș🩊(part 2)

Why Two Wolves?

In the first part, I mentioned both Perrault and Grimm not because the stories differ superficially, but because their shared surface—the famous bed scene—hides radically different logics of danger. If one remembers only the dialogue (“What big eyes you have!”), the two versions appear nearly identical. A wolf deceives a girl; she is eaten. Yet the decisive differences lie not in the dialogue but in the structure surrounding it.

In Grimm’s version, the moral is embedded in the ending. The girl disobeys her mother by leaving the path.

Because of her disobedience, she is swallowed, but she is rescued. The huntsman cuts open the wolf’s belly; order is restored; the wolf is killed through a trick. The lesson is corrective and communal: authority intervenes, discipline saves, error can be redeemed. Red Riding Hood learns. She does not stray again. The world remains morally structured.

Perrault’s ending, by contrast, is final. There is no huntsman, no rescue, no second chance. The girl is eaten and remains eaten. One might wonder why. The answer lies not only in the conclusion but in the construction of the encounter itself. In Perrault’s original French text, the wolf is introduced as “CompĂšre le loup”. The word compĂšre does not designate a stranger. It implies familiarity — a companion, an acquaintance, even a friendly associate. From the beginning, the wolf is socially positioned, not alien. Hence the forest in this version is not associated with danger or wildness. The woods are seen as a prolongation of the civilization and society. The predator belongs to the same communicative world as the girl. The danger is therefore not external intrusion but internal misrecognition.

This familiarity is reinforced in the bed scene. When the girl arrives, the wolf does not immediately attack. He instructs her to place the cake and butter aside and then tells her to come into bed with him. Perrault explicitly writes that she removes her clothes before getting in. The intimacy is staged. Closeness precedes violence. The scene imitates adult seduction before revealing predation. The girl is not seized; she participates in the proximity. That participation is precisely what makes the ending irreversible in Perrault’s social universe. Thus the old French expression “avoir vu le loup” (to have met the wolf) means to have lost virginity or have gained sexual experience. Under this light, one might understand why the wolf as Joo Jaekyung’s personality fits so well. (chapter 3) The latter became responsible for the hamster’s sexual education.

In Grimm’s version, this dimension disappears. The wolf does not construct a prolonged intimacy. After the dialogue, he simply springs from the bed and devours her. There is no undressing, no extended staging of physical closeness. Violence interrupts; it does not grow from apparent consent. Grimm transforms the libertine into a beast. The danger becomes physical appetite rather than social seduction.

Striking is that at the end of the story, Perrault articulates the moral explicitly:

The ending is the moral. There is no reversal because social damage, in Perrault’s world, is irreversible. The wolf represents not wild nature but libertine society. He does not attack in the forest because woodcutters—witnesses—are nearby. He waits until he can move the girl into a private domestic space. He speaks politely. He proposes a race so that he can reach the grandmother’s house sooner. He performs civility. Once in the house, the girl observes inconsistencies, but she accepts the animal’s explanations. Her failure is not merely disobedience; it is misjudgment.

That distinction is why both versions were necessary. Grimm teaches obedience within a moral universe that restores balance. Perrault teaches discernment within a social universe that does not. He is promoting critical thinking.

And Jinx unfolds more in the latter.

The Director: An Anaconda or a Wolf?

At first glance, the hospital director resembles Perrault’s wolf. (chapter 90) He is not impulsive. He is not openly violent. He operates within institutions, within offices, within controlled environments. He isolates rather than attacks. He frames rather than forces. Like Compùre le loup, he is not a stranger; he is part of the social order. He belongs to the system. That belonging is precisely what grants him access.

His resentment (chapter 90) reveals that his true wound is territorial. He can no longer find his targets within the hospital. He lost control. He lost narrative dominance. This explicates why the predator retaliated against Kim Dan by badmouthing him. (chapter 1) He made sure that the protagonist was economically and socially “ruined”. However, at the restaurant, what did he discover? A happy man with a companion! Despite his “revenge” for the loss of his territory, the physical therapist’s life had not been ruined. Thus he tried to slander the physical therapist, he was just a slut. (chapter 90) The problem is that the champion did not react like expected. He got angry at the “client” and not at the “prostitute”. He never thought that the main lead would side with such a person. Thus the hospital director voiced a menace: (chapter 90) His threat is not confession; it is defensive strategy. It reveals what he fears most: exposure. Not moral reckoning, but visibility. The predator who once operated in sealed rooms now imagines himself dragged into the open. And that possibility terrifies him.

In Perrault’s logic, harm succeeds because it occurs without witnesses. The wolf avoids the woodcutters. Thus he relocates the act into a private domestic space. But one might wonder about the identity of the woodcutters in the Korean Manhwa. In the architecture of a scandal, the “Woodcutter” represents the Bystander Effect woven into the fabric of an organization. In the fairy tale, the woodcutters are physically present but functionally absent; their focus on their “job” creates a peripheral noise that masks the wolf’s approach.

(chapter 91)

When an institution like Saero-An Hospital (chapter 90) prioritizes its “output” (reputation, profit, or clinical operations) over the safety of its staff, it adopts the woodcutter’s axe. By focusing only on the work at hand, the institution effectively grants the predator a “sealed room.” The wolf doesn’t need to hide from the woodcutters; he only needs them to keep their heads down. What makes him powerful is not brute force but the absence of eyes. The director functioned the same way. His authority depended on institutional insulation — doors closed, hierarchy unquestioned, narratives controlled. As long as no one looked too closely, he remained CompĂšre — familiar, respectable, legitimate.

However, visibility destroys that structure. It is no coincidence that the name of the institution is not revealed. It is strategic, it is about containment and damage control. (chapter 91) “Director of X General Hospital.” The letter X replaces identity. The institution remains faceless, protected, intact. Only the individual is exposed. He becomes the “black sheep,” the aberration, the singular deviant whose removal restores the illusion of purity. This means the system has not truly fractured. It has absorbed the shock. The management is shielded. The hospital’s reputation survives. The corruption is reframed as personal misconduct rather than structural tolerance. And that explains why the director initially felt safe. It is because he knew the “Mother” (the institution) and the “Woodcutters” (the staff/administration) were more invested in the “Big Hospital” image than in the safety of the “daughters” (the employees). And this is precisely where Perrault’s logic returns — not only through the wolf, but through the adults. In Perrault’s version, one might ask: where are the parents? The mother sends the girl into the forest without any warning. The grandmother only thinks how lovely her grandchild is, hence she is not talking about the dangers. None of them prepare her to recognize manipulation. Neither the mother nor the grandmother teaches her to question charm. She is well-bred, polite, obedient — but not trained to distrust sweetness.

Perrault’s moral seems directed at the girl, but indirectly it exposes society. A culture that values politeness over discernment produces vulnerability. The wolf thrives not only because he is cunning, but because the girl was raised to comply. The blame, therefore, is not purely individual.

The same mechanism appears in the hospital scandal. By omitting the hospital’s name, the article preserves the illusion that corruption was singular. But the panel in which Kim Dan reflects (chapter 1) disrupts the illusion that this was ever an isolated deviation. It reveals that shielding authority at the expense of subordinates was already the hospital’s modus operandi. The management’s instinct was not investigation, but preservation. Not accountability, but hierarchy.

This is crucial. Before the scandal became public, the hospital had already demonstrated where its loyalties lay. The director was protected. The subordinate was expendable. Dan lost his position; the director remained secure. That earlier incident establishes a pattern: institutional cohesion prioritized over justice. Now compare this to the anonymous article. (chapter 91) The article does not expose the forest. It exposes one wolf. Hence the hospital name remains concealed, while the man’s face is “revealed”. The director’s license is suspended. Publicly, the system appears decisive. But structurally, the logic remains the same: protect the institution, isolate the individual. The difference is only in scale. Previously, Dan was sacrificed to shield the director. Now the director is sacrificed to shield the hospital.

The mechanism is identical. This is where Perrault’s tale deepens the analogy. In the fairy tale, the mother sends the girl into danger unprepared. The adults create conditions in which charm is not interrogated. When the wolf succeeds, the girl bears the consequence. Society remains unexamined. Hence in Perrault’s tale, there is no huntsman because society itself is implicated. The wolf is not defeated because the environment that produced him remains untouched.

Likewise, the hospital’s earlier response shows that vulnerability was institutionalized. Victims were isolated. Complaints were contained. Authority was insulated. The forest was never safe; it was simply unacknowledged. The article does not expose the forest. It exposes one wolf.

And that is the most disturbing parallel: predators thrive where institutions prefer appearance over introspection. And now, let me ask you this question: what about MFC as institution then?

Perrault’s warning is therefore double-edged. It cautions young women about gentle wolves, but it also exposes a society that raises daughters to be agreeable rather than analytical. In both cases, the danger is not only the wolf. It is the world that allows him to pass as familiar.

That is why his language is not remorseful but retaliatory. (chapter 90) “If I fall, he’s going down with me” translates into: If I am exposed, I will contaminate the narrative. I will ensure that no one stands clean beside me. The threat is not about truth; it is about mutual ruin. This is Perrault’s mechanism inverted: when privacy collapses, the wolf attempts to drag the girl into public disgrace so that exposure harms both equally. If he cannot remain hidden, he will ensure that the victim appears complicit. What the director fears most is not prison, nor even moral judgment. It is losing control of the story.

And this leads me to the following observation: (chapter 90) The director claimed that doc Dan ruined his life, though the article makes it clear that it happened because of the collaboration of different victims. (chapter 90) The moment he got caught by the nurse in the office, gossips started circulating, and previous victims recognized that they were not the only ones. The man could no longer escape the gaze from the staff. Hence he had to seek his “targets” elsewhere. The restaurant scene clarifies his new method. He is sitting with a man in a curated adult space—low light, alcohol, controlled proximity. (chapter 90) It resembles the wolf’s preferred setting: intimacy that appears voluntary. What caught my attention is that he complained about his partners. (chapter 90) That line exposes the structural wound. “Pandering” implies performance. It implies negotiation. It implies mutuality. It implies that he must now ask rather than take. In the hospital, he did not have to pander. Authority substituted for charm. Hierarchy substituted for consent. Privacy substituted for persuasion.

Outside that territory, he is reduced to the marketplace of mutual agreement, — dating apps, casual meetings, drinks that require conversation rather than compliance. And he resents it. I came to think about dating apps, because the perverted hospital director did not meet the man at the XY club (chapter 33), but at the restaurant. If he had known such a club, he could have met the green haired-guy or the “uke” from episode 55. Thus I deduce that the sexual predator is actually hiding his “homosexuality”, he had been living a double life in the end, like the wolf in Perrault. That’s why he targets “virgins”. Since he used the expression “pandering… get by”, Mingwa implies that this man must have told the men (“all kinds of people”) he met, he was looking for a boyfriend to justify his action. (chapter 90) However, this lie was quickly caught by the unknown companion, as the perverted director paid no attention to him. (chapter 89) This exposes that the sexual predator hadn’t dropped his old mind-set, selfishness and entitlement. When the man abruptly stands and leaves, the director is surprised. (chapter 90) That surprise matters. It suggests expectation of compliance, of silent agreement, of recognition of coded signals. The man likely does not belong to the director’s ecosystem; he does not recognize the invitation as opportunity but as lack of respect. Thus he exits. (chapter 90) The fact that the wolf tried to talk him out of it indicates that their relationship was not only superficial, but also more equal. Humiliation is crucial. Predators who rely on social camouflage depend on territory. When territory collapses, strategy must change.

This is where the transformation begins. Until he meets Doc Dan, the director functions like an anaconda: silent constriction, gradual suffocation, no visible struggle. The anaconda does not bite first; it coils. It removes oxygen slowly. The hospital setting enabled precisely that kind of predation—isolated rooms, professional hierarchy, reputational shields. After the loss of his territory, we could say that he becomes acting like a “wolf” from Perrault’s version. He has many relationships (all kinds of people to get by). Perrault’s wolf survives because he is charming and unmarked. He passes as “CompĂšre.” Yet, the moment the champion crosses his path, the director transforms one more time: (chapter 90) This is where Grimm enters. His true nature got exposed, he is socially identified as predator.

Thus I initially deduced that the perverted hospital director would retaliate against the famous champion. (chapter 90) Jaekyung represents exposure. He is public, visible, media-facing. He has sponsors, contracts, a name that circulates. Reputation is capital in MMA. A scandal can destabilize a career faster than defeat in the ring.

But the new development alters this trajectory. (chapter 91) The director has already been exposed. His license is suspended. His name circulates in headlines. Even if the hospital remains anonymous, he does not. His face may be blurred, but within professional and social circles, recognition is inevitable.

This changes the mechanics of revenge. Previously, he could have weaponized narrative. Now, narrative cannot be weaponized — because he lacks credibility. Any accusation coming from him would be read as retaliation. He is already stigmatized as the wolf.

And stigma has consequences beyond reputation. He complains that he must “pander to all kinds of people just to get by.” (chapter 90) That line once indicated resentment toward consent. Now it reveals something deeper: he may no longer even succeed in pandering. Who would willingly meet a man publicly accused of harassment? (chapter 91) Even if strangers do not immediately recognize him, someone eventually will. His social ecosystem contracts.

He becomes even more isolated than before. This is where the transformation accelerates. And when charm is no longer viable and narrative manipulation is no longer credible, only one option remains: force without pretense.

This is where Grimm’s wolf enters fully. In Grimm’s version, the wolf does not maintain prolonged civility. He springs. (chapter 90) He devours. (chapter 90) There is no sustained camouflage. Violence becomes explicit.

The director’s inner monologue already reveals this potential pivot: (chapter 90) That sentence reframes restraint as error. It converts missed coercion into regret.

Now add stigmatization. If he cannot find partners, if he cannot reclaim status, if he cannot control narrative, if he has nothing left to lose, then the probability of retaliation and desperate reassertion increases. Not because he desires intimacy. But because he desires dominance. And dominance without insulation becomes assault.

The restaurant rejection already wounded his ego. Besides, his behavior at the restaurant could be seen as intrusion. (chapter 90) Hence he ran away. The exposure destroyed his credibility. The public article marked him. His ecosystem collapses. He is no longer hidden wolf. He is identified predator.

Predators who lose camouflage often escalate rather than retreat. Thus the revenge element shifts from narrative contamination to bodily assertion. Not scandal against Jaekyung. Not media manipulation. But an attempt to reclaim asymmetry through direct coercion. This does not guarantee success.

But it increases probability. The fairy-tale logic therefore completes itself:

Perrault shows the wolf who hides behind civility. Grimm shows the wolf who leaps when civility fails.

In Jinx, we may be witnessing the precise moment where camouflage is no longer possible — and where the predator, stripped of territory and credibility, risks becoming the brute he once avoided being. The resentment we see in his thoughts suggests precisely that possibility. When he sees Kim Dan thriving elsewhere, when he frames him as “whoring himself out,” he begins to rewrite the narrative: if Dan is already a “whore,” then coercion becomes transaction. In that logic, force becomes justified. And remember how Heo Manwook reacted, when he imagined that doc Dan was selling himself: (chapter 16)

This is the most dangerous pivot. Perrault’s wolf survives through civility. Grimm’s wolf initially survives through brutality, until he is caught (the huntsman = police). The director initially belonged to the first category. After losing territory, he risks evolving into the second. To conclude, the shift from anaconda to wolf is not a metaphorical flourish; it is psychological escalation. Camouflaged predators who lose control often intensify behavior rather than retreat.

And now, you are probably wondering why I included the actor Choi Heesung in the illustration of “predators”, though he is a second lead.

The False Mirror: Choi Heesung and The Gentle Wolf

At first glance, Choi Heesung stands disturbingly close to Perrault’s wolf. Not only he appears as polite and gentle (chapter 30), but also as selfless. (chapter 30) Yet, he is a libertine, though he claims to be pure by stating that he is looking for his soulmate. (chapter 33) Hence no one is suspecting the darkness in his heart. Even the champion believed in his words, when he claimed that he had some feelings for doc Dan. (chapter 58) The resemblance is deliberate. He is discreet. He avoids public scrutiny. He hides his intimacy with Potato. (chapter 43) Therefore the latter was not present at the champion’s birthday party. The actor operates in private spaces (special episode 2) and prefers silence over visibility. Like Perrault’s CompĂšre le loup, he does not appear monstrous. He appears socially legible — even charming. He navigates controlled environments. He is careful about who sees what.

On the surface, the symmetry is unsettling. Perrault’s wolf does not attack in the forest. He speaks politely and seduces next to the Woodcutters. (chapter 35) He proposes a “race”to the little girl, in Jinx it’s a meal (ramen in Korean, an allusion to sex) (chapter 35) He softens his voice. He invites the girl into bed. (special episode 1) He constructs intimacy before violence. He depends on civility as camouflage.

But what distinguishes a “libertine” is the absence of responsibility in their actions and words. Once the “Little Red Riding Hood” loses their virginity, the culprit is not blamed, but the victim. That’s why Perrault warns young women. The latter have to take the responsibility for the wolf’s behavior. Therefore it is not astonishing that the actor agrees that the chow chow becomes “responsible” for him. (special episode 1)

Because Heesung, too, prefers the private over the public, he exists in the gray zone where discretion and desire intersect.

But resemblance is not structure.

The decisive difference lies in how secrecy is used. Perrault’s wolf hides in order to extract. Civility functions as access. Privacy ensures there are no woodcutters. Sweetness precedes consumption. The wolf’s politeness is not restraint — it is strategy. Heesung’s secrecy functions differently. It is not just defensive, he still wants his partner to have fun. (special episode 1) It is not about power display, but fun. He hides not to isolate his partner, but to shield himself from exposure. His discretion protects his own public image, not his access to another’s body. The imbalance exists — it cannot be denied — but it is not systematically mobilized to erode consent. The latter comes from their initial contract: Potato is at his beck and call.

The wolf uses secrecy to manufacture vulnerability. Heesung uses secrecy to simply avoid visibility and responsibility. This distinction becomes clearer in their relation to inexperience.

For Perrault’s wolf, virginity is not intimacy. It is resistance waiting to be broken. (chapter 90) The girl’s naivety is eroticized precisely because it promises asymmetry. The invitation into bed is staged. Her undressing is narrated. Closeness is prolonged. The violence emerges from intimacy.

Control is primary. Desire is secondary. Heesung’s response to inexperience produces discomfort rather than appetite. (special episode 1) He has been avoiding “virgins” for one reason. He knows how a “virgin” would react to his dream ” to find his soulmate”. They would take his “words” seriously and imagine him as someone serious and reliable. But by selecting partners with sexual experience, he can claim that he made a mistake, they were no soulmate. (special episode 1) But this panel exposes even better why the actor is so different from Perrault’s wolf. Youth symbolizes “vulnerability and innocence” and that’s something he has been avoiding. The reason is simple. That way, he can avoid accountability. That’s why he panics, when he hears the age. He realizes his mistake! This reveals that though Heesung is a libertine, he is different from the hospital warden. He is not seeking pleasure in asymmetry, fear, shame and power. He is not targeting “virgins” to exploit their vulnerability. He has been avoiding “virgins”, as he knew that he would have to take responsibility. In reality, he has always feared attachment. Where the wolf eroticizes vulnerability, Heesung is destabilized by it.

What complicates the contrast with Choi Heesung is not that with his smiles, he resembles (chapter 34) the predator by accident (chapter 90), but that he resembles him convincingly enough to be confused with him.

In the first part, we wrote: “Something walks close, warm and familiar — speaking softly, until trust opens the way.” That description applied to the wolf. But it also applies to the fox. Heesung’s true animal is not the wolf. It is the fox (chapter 89) — clever, adaptable, socially fluid. The fox does not devour. It maneuvers and as such plays tricks.

And yet the fox can be mistaken for a wolf. Heesung repeatedly uses proximity through work to create intimacy. (chapter 32) He first approaches Kim Dan through professional contact. Later, he suggests a gig to Potato (special episode 1) or uses training space to remain near Potato. (chapter 88) Even in the gym, he casually asks Yoo-Gu to hold mitts — reorganizing the work structure in ways that subtly serve his private interest. Work becomes the bridge. The boundary blurs.

And here lies the dangerous resemblance. He reproaches Joo Jaekyung: (chapter 89) The accusation implies that Jaekyung contaminates professional space with sex. Yet Heesung himself collapses that boundary. He initiates intimacy with Potato after drinking. He knows the other is intoxicated. He proceeds anyway.

This is not predatory orchestration. But it is negligence toward asymmetry. This is where the question becomes unavoidable: when is it consent, and when is it coercion?

Is consent present simply because no explicit “no” was spoken? Is coercion present only when force is visible?
Or does the line lie elsewhere — in power, in context, in intention? Mingwa gave us the answer: (chapter 90) It is when one makes a clear decision and accepts the consequences. Yet, Heesung violated this rule, for he knew Potato was drunk. He did not stop. He did not insist on postponement. He allowed desire to override clarity. That choice introduces asymmetry. Alcohol clouds agency. Youth complicates balance. Professional proximity blurs roles. Secondly, he is rejecting accountability. Finally, he never tried to correct Potato’s error and false belief. He took advantage of his ignorance. So his behavior could be perceived as manipulative and coercive.

From the outside, the structure resembles the predator’s method: work proximity, private space, imbalance, intoxication. But coercion is not defined by imbalance alone. It is defined by how imbalance is used. The hospital director manufactures dependence. (chapter 90) He isolates. He rewrites refusal. He eroticizes resistance. He regrets restraint. His desire intensifies when asymmetry is greatest. Heesung does not erode consent systematically. He does not isolate Potato over time. He does not rewrite refusal as invitation. But he does blur boundaries. He does allow alcohol to intervene. He does prioritize desire over clarity.

From the outside, that distinction may not be visible. And that is where misrecognition becomes dangerous.

Heesung does not publicly acknowledge the relationship. (special episode 1) He hides it, though he tried to reveal it to doc Dan (chapter 58). If the truth were exposed — an actor secretly sleeping with a younger, inexperienced partner whom he approached through work — the narrative could easily frame him as exploitative. He could be accused of sexual harassment.

He would appear as a predator. Not because he functions like the hospital director — but because the structure resembles it. Fox mistaken for wolf.

The key distinction lies in aftermath. When Jaekyung reflects (chapter 91) the emotion is internalized. He experiences remorse not because he was exposed, but because he crossed a boundary. He separates work from intimacy afterward. He becomes rigid about consent, alcohol, and clarity. Therefore imagine his reaction, when he discovers the true nature of the relationship between Choi Heesung and Potato. He can only be shocked and angry.

This is why Jinx constructs the resemblance so carefully. Surface similarity forces the reader to confront how easily desire, secrecy, and proximity can resemble coercion. The difference lies not in discretion, nor in imbalance, nor even in sexual contact under imperfect conditions. It lies in how power is processed before and afterward. At the same time, it gives an answer how to read the first night between the main couple. It was no sexual harassment.

The wolf converts vulnerability into entitlement. The fox risks vulnerability through miscalculation.

And yet — in a world quick to judge by appearances — the fox may be labeled as a wolf. That is the uncomfortable tension Mingwa builds. Because the story is not only about identifying predators. It is about learning to distinguish between domination and error, between strategy and immaturity, between systematic coercion and boundary failure.

If Choi Heesung’s relationship with Potato were to become public, how would it be read? Would he be framed as a predator — the older actor who used work proximity and intoxication to seduce an inexperienced partner? Would he become the new “black sheep,” sacrificed to protect the image of the entertainment agency? (chapter 33) Or would attention shift to the structure that allowed blurred boundaries to exist in the first place?

This question is not hypothetical. It repeats a pattern already established. Observe how Joo Jaekyung sued a hospital for leaking information, though the lawyer and the institution put the blame an individual. (chapter 36) When the hospital scandal broke, the institution remained unnamed. (chapter 91) The director was isolated as the deviant. The system survived. Corruption was reframed as personal misconduct. Structural tolerance became invisible.

If Heesung were exposed, would the narrative follow the same logic? Would he be condemned as an individual aberration? Or would the agency be questioned for cultivating environments where professional and private hierarchies overlap, where young trainees depend on seniors, where silence protects image?

The fox can easily be mistaken for the wolf. But the forest still matters. And this brings us to a larger structural mirror: MFC.

When schemes unfolded inside the fighting world — manipulated matches, concealed injuries, silent complicity — who bears responsibility? The CEO? The manager? The doctors who testified selectively? (chapter 41) The security guards who enforced silence? (chapter 40) The sports reporters who repeated the official version? The referees? The moderators? The corrupted director of the gym Choi Gilseok? Or the institution itself?

If one fighter becomes the scapegoat (chapter 52), does the structure remain untouched?
If one CEO falls, does the culture disappear? (chapter 47)
If one predator is exposed, does the ecosystem dissolve? (chapter 48) As you can see, I have the feeling that the pharmaceutical company might become the topic of the next scandal.

Perrault’s tale quietly asks the same question. The wolf is blamed. But who raised the girl to trust sweetness without discernment? Who allowed her to walk alone? Who normalized obedience over critical thought? The fairy tale ends with the wolf devouring the girl — and society intact. Grimm adds a huntsman, but the forest remains.

So when the next scandal erupts — whether in the hospital, in the agency, or in MFC — the real question will not be merely who acted wrongly.

It will be: who benefited?
Who remained silent?
Who enforced the hierarchy?
Who preferred reputation over accountability?

And perhaps the most uncomfortable question of all: Will another wolf be sacrificed — while the forest survives once again?

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or Manhwa, 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.

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