Please support the authors by reading Manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the Manhwa: Jinx But be aware that the Manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. Here is the link of the table of contents about Jinx. Here is the link where you can find the table of contents of analyzed Manhwas. Here are the links, if you are interested in the first work from Mingwa, BJ Alex, and the 2 previous essays about Jinx Why Sleeping Beauty Had to Bleed part 1 and part 2
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When does a curse truly disappear?
Episode 99 of Jinx initially appears to destroy the central superstition of the series. Kim Dan lies unconscious in a hospital bed. 
(chapter 99) He is absent from the ring. There was no sex before the match, no ritual, no “luck,” no physical reassurance. And yet Joo Jaekyung wins faster 
(chapter 99) and more decisively than ever before. 
(chapter 99) At first glance, the conclusion seems obvious: the jinx is broken.
But then another problem emerges immediately. Why does this victory feel so horrifying? To the audience in front of the octagon, the champion no longer appears heroic. Baek Junmin’s face is totally ruined. 
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 99) The moderator repeatedly describes him as ruthless. 
(chapter 99) The crowd boos when he leaves the cage. 
(chapter 99) He refuses the interview, 
(chapter 99), ignores the CEO
, (chapter 99), abandons the championship belt behind him, and walks away as though the victory itself had become meaningless.
Without the hidden context surrounding Kim Dan’s assault, the public sees only one thing: a frighteningly violent champion who no longer behaves like a human being.
And yet the readers know something entirely different. We know that Joo Jaekyung entered the octagon after discovering that Baek Junmin was connected to Kim Dan’s assault. 
(chapter 99) We know that the fight was never truly about the belt. We know that the man appearing emotionally empty 
(chapter 99) inside the ring is, in reality, entirely consumed by one person lying unconscious in a hospital room.
This creates the real tension of episode 99. While outsiders witness monstrosity and rudelessness 
(chapter 99), the readers witness emotional clarity.
The chapter therefore reveals something far more unsettling. The jinx was never truly about sex at all. The real curse was hesitation and fear — the inability to escape the ghosts of the past. Kim Dan’s assault changes this completely. For the first time in the series, Joo Jaekyung stops fighting memory and focuses entirely on the present moment. 
(chapter 99) That is why episode 99 feels simultaneously triumphant and tragic.
The “loverboy” insult 
(chapter 99) intended to weaken Joo Jaekyung ultimately destroys the very hesitation that had governed him for years. But the result is terrifying to watch. The emperor wins, yet leaves the octagon looking less like a champion than like a ghost whose heart has already abandoned the arena long before his body does. (chapter 99)
The Champion Who Always Waited
One detail becomes impossible to ignore once we revisit Joo Jaekyung’s earlier fights. Again and again, his opponents attack first. Randy Booker rushes him aggressively, 
(chapter 15) Dominique lands the opening assault 
(chapter 40) while the athlete tried to avoid his attacks before
(chapter 40), Gabriel initiates the violence 
(chapter 87), and even Baek Junmin, in their first earlier encounter, attempts to establish control first. 
(chapter 50) Joo Jaekyung’s usual fighting style therefore follows a recognizable structure. He absorbs the opponent’s aggression 
(chapter 40), studies it carefully, adapts to it, and only afterward retaliates with devastating precision.
But Episode 5 quietly introduces a striking exception to this pattern. For the first time in the series, Joo Jaekyung attacks first. 
(chapter 5) The moment is brief, yet Park Namwook immediately notices that something feels fundamentally different. 
Despite training normally, Jaekyung suddenly appears unusually sharp, aggressive, and emotionally accelerated. Namwook asks whether he “did something special,” instinctively recognizing the deviation without understanding its source.
Retrospectively, the scene becomes deeply revealing. Episode 5 already foreshadows the connection between Kim Dan and the temporary collapse of Jaekyung’s hesitation. Long before Episode 99, Kim Dan had already begun interfering with the psychological structure governing the champion’s violence. Yet the difference between Episode 5 and Episode 99 remains crucial. In Episode 5, (chapter 5) the hesitation merely weakens. In Episode 99, it disappears entirely. And this is precisely why the fight against Baek Junmin feels so terrifying. The emotional fragmentation that once forced Jaekyung to wait, analyze, and psychologically endure before retaliating suddenly vanishes. For the first time in the series, he no longer enters the cage divided between past and present. He enters it whole. (chapter 99)
For years, however, this hesitation was misunderstood by everyone around him. Earlier in the story, an older coach 
(chapter 75) remarked that Jaekyung performed perfectly during practice but somehow “fell short in important matches.” Park Namwook immediately interpreted this through the logic of sports psychology and asked whether the champion simply got “cold feet.” Episode 99, however, reveals how profoundly the manager and coach misunderstood him. Namwook consistently interprets Joo Jaekyung externally. 
(chapter 99) Before the fight against Baek Junmin, he asks whether Jaekyung wants to warm up, whether he wants to hit the mitts, and whether he has slept enough. He notices that Jaekyung’s body feels “cold to the touch,” yet even then he still assumes that the problem must be physical, routine-based, or performance-related. This misunderstanding reveals something important about Namwook himself. First, it is clear that he is projecting his own indeciveness onto his “pupil”. Besides, he represents the institutional mentality of the gym, a worldview in which performance functions almost like a mechanical equation. Training, preparation, discipline, and focus are supposed to produce victory. To Namwook, hesitation can therefore only mean athletic anxiety or fear of failure. In his mind, the match itself is the most important reality in the room. That is why he keeps trying to solve Jaekyung’s silence through professionalism, routine, and ritual. But what the hyung never truly graps is that Joo Jaekyung is not merely an athlete struggling with nerves. He is a man haunted by memory. The “coldness” in his body was never simple fear of losing. It was emotional numbness. 
(chapter 75) Joo Jaekyung entered fights carrying invisible ghosts with him: the father, violence, hierarchy, humiliation, fear of disrespect, and the expectation of punishment and rejection. The story repeatedly shows how his father enforced authority physically. 
(chapter 72) The elder struck first. 
(chapter 72) Resistance or even “presence” was punished. Submission and later avoidance became a survival mechanism. Even later, fragments of this mentality continued reproducing themselves through figures like Hwang Byungchul. 
(chapter 74) 
(chapter 74) As readers, we gradually realize something deeply unsettling. Joo Jaekyung unconsciously grants older men (Randy Booker, Dominic Hill, Park Namwook and Baek Junmin) the symbolic privilege of initiating violence. This explains why insults such as “baby,” 
(chapter 14) “child,” and “lost puppy” 
(chapter 96) carry so much narrative importance throughout the series. These words do not merely mock him. On the one hand they psychologically reflect his past fighting style (chapter 99), on the other hand they reduce him to the subordinate boy once again. But beneath this hesitation lies something even darker. Joo Jaekyung is not merely afraid of losing fights. He is afraid that his father might have been right about him all along. When his father insulted him, beat him, and treated him as worthless, the violence was never only physical. It implanted a deeper psychological curse inside the child. 
(chapter 54) Weakness became tied to identity itself. Hesitation became associated with inferiority. Emotional attachment became linked to failure and humiliation. This is why the champion’s mistrust persisted even after becoming the strongest fighter in the ring. Outwardly, Joo Jaekyung became “the Emperor.” 
(chapter 75) Inwardly, however, part of him remained trapped before the father’s judgment, still unconsciously waiting for the older man to strike first. The hesitation therefore was not simple caution. It was fear itself. It was the fear that he might truly be weak. It was the fear that he might truly be inferior. And, above all, it was the fear that he might ultimately become exactly what his father believed him to be: A loser! 
(chapter 73) And this is precisely why episode 99 changes everything. For the first time in the series, Joo Jaekyung stops fighting while carrying the father’s voice inside his mind. He is no longer hearing his voice, but only seeing his lover’s cold body. 
(chapter 99) The assault against Kim Dan forces him into a situation where doubt itself becomes impossible. Suddenly, something matters more than hierarchy, humiliation, fear, or inherited shame. Love overrides the old curse. And once that happens, the subordinate child disappears instantly.
The Shotgun That Backfired
Baek Junmin believes he understands the former champion perfectly. When he leans toward him before the fight and whispers, (chapter 99) he believes he has found the champion’s greatest weakness.
The insult is carefully calculated. “Loverboy” infantilizes emotional attachment and strips Kim Dan of dignity. Ironically, Kim Dan is actually older than Jaekyung — a hyung — yet Baek Junmin symbolically erases this hierarchy entirely. In his worldview, emotional attachment belongs to weakness, dependency, and humiliation. But there is another layer that makes the scene even darker. The antagonist uses the word “loverboy” through the logic of prostitution, possession, and mockery. For him, the insult reduces Kim Dan to an object of attachment, almost something transactional or degrading. Yet the wolf and Jinx-lovers know something Junmin himself does not fully understand. Kim Dan was not simply emotionally endangered. In the past, he was physically assaulted. 
(chapter 91) The “hamster” clearly showed clear signs of PTSD during the restaurant encounter in Chapter 90. 
(chapter 90) The trembling, the nausea, and the paralyzing fear were not just reactions to a “fight,” but to a perpetrator who had physically violated his agency. When the former hospital director attempted to “erase” the assault through further violence (the stabbing) 
(chapter 98), it proved that to the antagonists, Dan’s body was merely a canvas for their malice.
Consequently, when Baek Junmin whispers “loverboy” in Chapter 99, (chapter 99) he is unknowingly stepping onto a psychological landmine. He believes he is poking at a romantic weakness; in reality, he is mocking a victim of a coordinated assault. This is why the insult becomes so psychologically explosive. 
(chapter 99) For Joo Jaekyung, hearing Junmin use a “diminishing” term to describe a man who is currently lying in a hospital bed because of Junmin’s own schemes is the ultimate provocation. It transforms a standard pre-fight taunt into a disgusting trivialization of Dan’s suffering.
The “Shotgun” fires a bullet of mockery, but because of the hidden reality of the assault, it returns to him as a cannonball of absolute, righteous fury. The word therefore unintentionally collides with the reality of sexual violence and trauma. (chapter 99) This is why the insult becomes so psychologically explosive.
At the same time, Baek Junmin weaponizes morality itself. The implication is cruelly simple. While Kim Dan lies unconscious, Joo Jaekyung is here fighting for spectacle, money, and fame. The thug expects guilt, hesitation, emotional fragmentation, and inner collapse. Instead, he accidentally gives Joo Jaekyung the most powerful weapon in the entire series. Throughout the story, the “jinx” functioned as a psychological crutch disguised as superstition. The MMA fighter believed he needed the ritual beforehand in order to stabilize himself physically and mentally. 
(chapter 02) This is why the superstition held so much power over him. Kim Dan unconsciously became transformed into something functional, almost mechanical: a stabilizer, a ritual, a lucky charm. 
(chapter 87) But episode 99 destroys this illusion completely. The moment Baek Junmin says “loverboy,” Joo Jaekyung is forced to confront something openly for the first time. Kim Dan is not luck. Kim Dan is not a ritual. Kim Dan is not a tool. Kim Dan is the person he loves. (chapter 99) And this realization changes the entire structure of the fight. The irony surrounding Baek Junmin’s title, “The Shotgun,” 
(chapter 49) suddenly becomes extraordinary. A shotgun is a weapon of spread, chaos, and indiscriminate destruction. The antagonist’s psychological attack functions exactly the same way. 
(chapter 96) He fires insults everywhere at once: infantilization, guilt, mockery, emotional humiliation, and social shame. But Joo Jaekyung’s response becomes the complete opposite: a trigger for retaliation. 
(chapter 99)
Instead of psychologically fragmenting him, the attack compresses his entire emotional world into a single point of terrifying focus. Baek Junmin tries to blow Jaekyung’s mind apart; instead, he accidentally pressurizes it. This is why the fight immediately becomes so frightening to watch.
The moderator truly emphasizes that this is “not his usual style.” (chapter 99) Joo Jaekyung gives Baek Junmin no opportunity to speak 
(chapter 99), recover (chapter 99), breathe 
(chapter 99), or retaliate. (chapter 99) Yet despite the overwhelming brutality, his precision never disappears. The knee strikes, liver shots, uninterrupted combinations, and perfectly targeted blows reveal not emotional chaos, but emotional concentration.
And then Mingwa introduces one of the most disturbing visual details of the entire chapter: Baek Junmin’s face. (chapter 99) The shattered nose. The missing tooth. The blood covering his mouth. The trembling. Suddenly, “The Shotgun” no longer resembles a manipulative predator or rising star. He becomes reduced to raw, terrified biology. The smugness disappears entirely. And this is where the violence becomes deeply symbolic. Baek Junmin’s greatest weapon was never simply physical strength. His real power existed in his mouth:
- the whispers,
- the manipulation,
- the destabilizing insults,
- the weaponization of social morality,
- and the psychological games.
He attempted to use language itself as ammunition. Joo Jaekyung’s response is therefore horrifyingly surgical. By destroying Baek Junmin’s mouth, nose, and face, he symbolically dismantles the mechanism of the “Shotgun” itself. (chapter 99) He silences the man who attempted to psychologically break him through words.
But there’s more to it. Baek Junmin’s identity as “The Shotgun” was never about his fists; it was about his mouth. (chapter 96) His smirk was his armor 
(chapter 96), a performative tool used to signal emotional superiority and untouchability. Throughout the series, he weaponized his smile to infantilize Jaekyung and degrade Kim Dan 
(chapter 99), positioning himself as the puppet master of the “last laugh.” 
(chapter 87) In Episode 99, Joo Jaekyung deconstructs this theatricality with surgical intent. He doesn’t target the body for a standard knockout; he targets the features of expression: (chapter 99)
- The Mouth: The source of the “Loverboy” insult and the manipulative whispers.
- The Teeth: The physical foundation of the smug, predatory grin.
- The Nose: The center of the “arrogant” face that looked down on Dan’s trauma.
By shattering these specific points, Jaekyung pressurizes the “Shotgun’s” spread of insults into a single point of silence. The violence is not random; it is the literal destruction of mockery. The irony is absolute: the man who defined himself by his ability to laugh at others’ suffering is left with a face that can no longer form a smile. (chapter 99) Jaekyung didn’t just silence the “Shotgun”—he dismantled the very mechanism Junmin used to enjoy his own cruelty. To the audience, it was monstrosity; to the reader, it was the only way to truly kill the insult. This is why the violence feels so different from ordinary sports brutality. Joo Jaekyung is not simply aiming for victory. He is erasing the source of the violation.
And the irony becomes almost unbearable. Baek Junmin believes the word “loverboy” will emasculate the champion psychologically. Instead, the insult destroys the final separation inside Joo Jaekyung himself. The “Emperor” might once have fought for titles, legacy, spectators, or survival. But the “Loverboy” fights differently. 
(chapter 99) He fights personally. And that is precisely why he becomes so terrifying. The crowd boos because they expected a spectacle governed by sportsmanship, hierarchy, and ritualized violence. Instead, they witness sincerity stripped completely naked. The arena ceases to resemble entertainment and begins resembling execution. (chapter 99) The public therefore interprets Joo Jaekyung as monstrous. (chapter 99) But the readers understand the deeper irony. For perhaps the first time in the entire series, Joo Jaekyung is utterly sincere inside the cage.
The Crowd of One
To understand the true weight of the “loverboy” provocation in Episode 99, we must return to the subtle transformation that began much earlier in the story, long before Baek Junmin ever whispered the word.
The shift begins in Paris. 
(chapter 87) Chapter 15 quietly introduces one of the most important structural changes in Jinx: 
(chapter 15) Kim Dan’s transition from a private “function” of the jinx into a visible presence within the audience itself. At first glance, the scene appears insignificant. The arena is immense, saturated with blinding lights, cameras, and noise. Joo Jaekyung stands at the center of a gigantic machinery of spectacle that elevates him into the untouchable figure of “the Emperor.” At this stage, readers are still encouraged to view him primarily as a public myth sustained by victory, fame, and domination.
And yet something changes the moment Kim Dan enters the stands. For Joo Jaekyung, Kim Dan slowly becomes what we might call:
a crowd of one.
Before Paris, approval came from conquest itself. The cheers of the audience 
(chapter 15), the fear of opponents, the attention of cameras, the authority of the CEO, and the symbolism of the championship belt all participated in validating Jaekyung’s existence. The Octagon was not simply a workplace. It was the symbolic center of his identity.
But once Kim Dan begins watching him fight from the side, the emotional hierarchy quietly shifts. The roar of the stadium slowly fades into white noise. 
(chapter 40)
This transformation becomes unmistakable in Chapter 87. (chapter 87) Mingwa deliberately changes the visual framing. Instead of emphasizing the scale of the arena, she places Joo Jaekyung behind the chain-link fence while a camera lens continues filming the “Champion” in the background. Yet Jaekyung himself looks beyond the camera entirely. His attention bypasses the world in order to search for a single face.
Then comes the deceptively simple question: 
(chapter 87)
Psychologically, this moment marks a point of no return. Joo Jaekyung is no longer performing for twenty thousand spectators. He is seeking Kim Dan’s approval specifically. Public admiration has already begun losing emotional value because it is automatic, repetitive, and unconditional as long as he keeps winning. Kim Dan’s reactions, however, remain uncertain, emotionally complex, and therefore meaningful. 
(chapter 87)
Paris therefore functions as the silent diagnosis of Episode 99. Long before Baek Junmin calls him “loverboy”, (chapter 99) Joo Jaekyung has already begun emotionally abandoning the arena. The “Emperor” slowly hollows out from within because another identity quietly begins taking shape beneath it:
the lover.
And this is precisely why Episode 99 feels so unsettling. (chapter 99) Once the fight against Baek Junmin ends, Joo Jaekyung behaves almost as though the Octagon itself no longer exists psychologically. He does not celebrate. He does not acknowledge the audience. He does not look at the championship belt. He ignores the interviewer. Even the CEO becomes irrelevant. Instead of remaining beneath the lights as the symbolic center of the spectacle, he walks away immediately.
This refusal profoundly unsettles the public because spectators expect ritual closure. A champion is supposed to stand proudly beneath the lights, receive the belt, address the crowd 
(chapter 40), and transform violence back into entertainment. The spectacle depends on emotional resolution in order to preserve itself. But Joo Jaekyung refuses this transition entirely. He leaves the violence unresolved and emotionally raw. (chapter 99)
This rupture becomes visible even in Park Namwook’s reaction afterward. Earlier in the story, Namwook constantly spoke about Joo Jaekyung with possessive familiarity 
(chapter 40), treating him almost as “his” champion to manage, interpret, and direct. 
(chapter 88) But in Episode 99, his praise suddenly feels hesitant and emotionally uncertain. 
(chapter 99) The stutter in “G-good job, Jaekyung!” alongside the visible sweat drop transforms what should have been a triumphant moment into an awkward and deeply uncomfortable interaction.
Namwook instinctively rushes toward the champion as though trying to restore the old ritual structure of victory: praise the fighter, normalize the violence, and emotionally transition the spectacle back into professionalism. Yet Joo Jaekyung no longer participates in this structure at all. He does not emotionally return to the arena, the manager, or the system surrounding him.
For perhaps the first time, the manager appears confronted with something he cannot interpret, regulate, or emotionally reclaim. The discomfort visible on his face suggests an unconscious realization that the champion standing before him no longer truly belongs to him and the world of the Octagon anymore.
And this is where the “Crowd of One” dynamic becomes crucial. (chapter 99) Baek Junmin intended the “loverboy” insult to make Joo Jaekyung appear emotionally small, weak, dependent, and pathetic. Ironically, however, the insult produces the exact opposite effect. Instead of diminishing him psychologically, it radically compresses his emotional universe until everything outside Kim Dan disappears completely.
The crowd loses meaning.
The CEO loses authority.
The championship belt loses symbolic value.
Even the identity of “the Emperor” begins collapsing.
Only Kim Dan remains. And paradoxically, this narrowing of the world is exactly what makes Joo Jaekyung so terrifyingly effective inside the cage. (chapter 99)
Earlier in the series, he always fought amid psychological noise. 
(chapter 75) The expectations of others, the father’s ghost, the burden of hierarchy, fear of emotional weakness, public image, and the pressure to sustain the Emperor identity all occupied space inside his mind simultaneously. Part of him always remained divided between the immediacy of the present and the weight of the past.
But in Episode 99, that noise disappears completely. (chapter 99) By trying to weaponize Jaekyung’s attachment, The Shotgun inadvertently strips away the ghosts that had governed him for years. The father’s lingering shadow, the burden of legacy, and the fear of vulnerability all collapse beneath a single emotional imperative:
protect Kim Dan and his dignity.
And once this happens, Mistrust or doubt becomes impossible. (chapter 99)
This is why the fight appears almost inhuman to spectators. The audience and the moderator witness a fighter who no longer seems connected to the ordinary emotional economy of sports entertainment. 
(chapter 99) There is no vanity left inside him, no desire for applause, and no hunger for symbolic recognition. The crowd cannot understand what it is witnessing because Joo Jaekyung is no longer fighting for public validation at all.
He is fighting for someone specific. That is also why the booing carries such narrative importance. Earlier in the story, crowd approval still mattered 
(chapter 15) because the audience helped sustain the identity of “the Emperor.” But by Episode 99, the crowd has already lost its emotional authority over him. The boos therefore sound strangely hollow. They belong to a world Joo Jaekyung has already abandoned internally.
This is also why Mingwa’s depiction of the crowd earlier in Episode 99 becomes so significant retrospectively. 
(chapter 99) Before the match begins, both groups of supporters remain visibly divided. Some cheer passionately for Joo Jaekyung 
(chapter 99), while others support Baek Junmin with equal enthusiasm. Yet despite this rivalry, the audience still shares the same emotional framework. They participate in the same ritual structure of sports entertainment: choosing sides, anticipating victory, and emotionally investing themselves in the spectacle. But once Joo Jaekyung abandons the belt and walks away from the Octagon, this division suddenly disappears. (chapter 99)
The rival chants collapse into a single unified sound: (chapter 99) In other words, the crowd briefly becomes emotionally unanimous precisely at the moment Joo Jaekyung rejects it entirely.
Symbolically, this reversal is extraordinary. Earlier in the story, the collective audience helped sustain the identity of “the Emperor.” 
(chapter 75) But by Episode 99, Joo Jaekyung has already emotionally abandoned that entire system. The boos therefore no longer possess true emotional authority over him. They belong to a world he has already left behind psychologically. 
(chapter 99)
Ironically, while the crowd finally speaks with one voice, Joo Jaekyung himself no longer hears it at all. This is why he can leave the championship belt behind without even turning around. For years, the belt represented worth, hierarchy, legitimacy, and survival. In Episode 99, however, Joo Jaekyung silently chooses a fragile human body over the indestructible gold object waiting for him inside the cage. 
(chapter 99)
In other words, the insult intended to diminish him emotionally ultimately liberates him from the need to remain “the Emperor” at all.
The Ghost in the Ring
This emotional transformation explains why Joo Jaekyung appears so deeply unsettling throughout Episode 99. Mingwa repeatedly depicts him with shadowed or completely obscured eyes (chapter 99), while the backgrounds dissolve into blackness, fragmented speed lines, and empty space. The visual language of the chapter gradually strips away the surrounding world until only the violence remains visible. At first glance, this eyeless imagery makes him appear monstrous, detached, and almost inhuman. Yet the deeper irony is that the opposite is actually happening.
Joo Jaekyung is not emotionally absent because he enjoys the brutality of the fight. He appears ghost-like because emotionally he no longer wants to be there at all. This becomes especially important once we remember the scene before the match where he insists: 
(chapter 98) That sentence completely recontextualizes everything that follows afterward. Emotionally, Joo Jaekyung had already chosen the hospital over the Octagon. 
(chapter 98) The cage, once his kingdom, suddenly becomes a place of forced exile. He does not want the lights, the crowd, or the spectacle. He wants to remain beside Kim Dan. He wants proximity, silence, and reassurance. But the system surrounding him — the match, the organization, the expectations, and the machinery of professional fighting itself — forces him back into the arena before Kim Dan regains consciousness.
And this is precisely why he begins resembling Kim Dan himself. 
(chapter 97) Throughout the series, Kim Dan lived like a ghost. He erased himself emotionally and physically in order to survive. 
(chapter 57) He exhausted his body for others, suppressed his own emotions, accepted humiliation silently 
(chapter 90), and reduced himself to a functional object rather than a full human being. He moved through life almost invisibly, enduring suffering while abandoning parts of himself in the process.
In Episode 99, Joo Jaekyung briefly enters the same existential state. Hence he is not allowed to talk to the journalists before the event. Inside the Octagon, his body continues fighting, striking, calculating, and destroying with terrifying precision, but emotionally he has already left the arena behind. (chapter 99) Hence he is determined to finish this match as quickly as possible. His heart remains in the hospital room beside the unconscious man lying in bed. In this sense, the fight becomes profoundly uncanny because Jaekyung’s body operates almost independently from his emotional presence. Years of training allow him to perform absolute violence almost automatically. Baek Junmin is therefore not facing ordinary rage or uncontrolled fury. He is facing a perfectly functioning machine whose operator is psychologically somewhere else entirely.
And yet Episode 99 also contains brief ruptures where the “ghost” inside the cage suddenly reveals the human being still trapped within it. One of the most striking moments occurs when Joo Jaekyung screams: (chapter 99) At first glance, the panel appears to depict pure rage. His face is distorted, his eyes are wide open, and the violence reaches an almost frightening intensity. But even here, Mingwa carefully avoids portraying him as a man lost in uncontrolled fury. The strikes remain terrifyingly accurate. His body does not flail blindly. Every movement continues targeting Baek Junmin with surgical precision. (chapter 99) This distinction matters enormously.
Joo Jaekyung is not fighting like someone consumed by chaos. He is fighting like someone whose emotional world has collapsed into a single unbearable question. Why?
The scream therefore functions on multiple levels simultaneously. (chapter 99) On the surface, he is condemning Baek Junmin directly for his choices, for the assault, for the cruelty, and for reducing Kim Dan to collateral damage within a world governed by greed, hierarchy, and spectacle. But the question also reveals something deeper psychologically. For perhaps the first time in the series, Joo Jaekyung openly confronts the absurdity of the system surrounding him.
Why is he inside a cage fighting for a championship belt while the person he loves lies unconscious in a hospital bed? Why does this world demand violence, performance, and spectacle at the precise moment when he wants to be somewhere else entirely? Why must human intimacy constantly be sacrificed to sustain the machinery of “the Emperor”? This is why the panel feels so emotionally explosive. The “WHY?!” is not merely directed at Baek Junmin. It is directed at the entire reality trapping him inside the arena.
And this is precisely where the Emperor mask finally shatters completely.
Earlier in the series, Jaekyung’s violence usually remained emotionally controlled beneath layers of arrogance 
(chapter 15), intimidation, or performative dominance. Here, however, the emotional repression ruptures openly. Yet paradoxically, the loss of the mask does not weaken his precision. Instead, his years of training allow his body to continue functioning with horrifying efficiency even while his emotional state reaches a breaking point.
The result is deeply uncanny. His body performs violence automatically, almost mechanically, while his emotions remain entirely concentrated outside the cage. Mingwa reinforces this visually by stripping away the arena itself. The backgrounds dissolve into white speed lines and empty space until only Jaekyung and his target remain visible. The audience disappears. The spectacle disappears. Even the Octagon itself begins losing visual substance.
The fight stops resembling sports entertainment and starts resembling a private war. (chapter 99)
And this is why the public perceives him as monstrous. Joo Jaekyung no longer participates in the emotional economy of professional fighting. He is not trying to entertain the audience, preserve his image, or embody the symbolic role of “Champion.” To spectators, he appears frightening precisely because the normal rituals of the sport have collapsed entirely.
But the readers understand the deeper irony. The “ghost in the ring” is not a man incapable of feeling. It is a man whose feelings have become so painfully concentrated on one person outside the cage that everything inside the cage loses emotional reality in comparison.
And this is what makes the violence so terrifying. The body continues moving flawlessly, but the person inhabiting it has already departed emotionally. The Emperor’s shell remains inside the cage, mechanically “cleaning up” the threat standing before him, while the human being himself waits elsewhere.
This also gives new meaning to the “loverboy” insult. Baek Junmin intended the word to drag Joo Jaekyung back into the room emotionally through shame, humiliation, and guilt. He wanted to force the champion to confront emotional weakness publicly. Instead, the insult produces the exact opposite effect. By naming him a “lover,” Baek Junmin inadvertently gives Joo Jaekyung permission to stop caring about the Empire altogether.
The emotional hierarchy collapses instantly. The title stops mattering. The crowd stops mattering. The spectacle stops mattering. Only Kim Dan remains psychologically real.
This is why the fragmented speed lines and visual distortions (chapter 99) throughout the chapter become so significant. To spectators, they symbolize the overwhelming speed and brutality of the champion. But psychologically they also resemble static, interference, and white noise. Everything surrounding the fight begins blurring together because, from Jaekyung’s perspective, the world outside Kim Dan has already lost emotional clarity.
Even his eyes disappear.
Earlier in the series, Jaekyung’s gaze defined his identity. His eyes projected intimidation, dominance, confidence, and hierarchy before he even threw a punch. In Paris, however, that gaze had already begun changing direction. (chapter 99) Instead of seeking the crowd’s approval, he searched for Kim Dan’s reactions specifically. By Episode 99, Mingwa removes his eyes altogether because if Kim Dan is not there to watch him, then psychologically there is nothing left worth seeing inside the cage. 
(chapter 99)
And this is why the public completely misreads him.
To outsiders, the eyeless champion appears dangerous, emotionally detached, and frighteningly cruel. They cannot see the unconscious body waiting in the hospital room, the assault that triggered the fight, or the emotional clarity behind the violence. The audience believes it is witnessing a champion who has lost his humanity. But the readers understand something far more tragic. The “ghost” inside the ring exists precisely because Joo Jaekyung has finally discovered something more important than the ring itself.
For perhaps the first time in the entire series, the Emperor no longer wants the arena. He no longer wants the gold, the cheers, the cameras, or the “last laugh.” The ghost in the cage is merely the shell of an Emperor who has already abdicated his throne. What remains is simply a man waiting for another person to wake up. 
(chapter 99)
The Real Octagon
The true emotional climax of episode 99 does not occur inside the cage. It occurs afterward, inside the hospital room.
The contrast between these two spaces is extraordinary. The octagon is filled with noise, cameras, violence, lights
(chapter 99), money, and spectacle, yet everything inside it suddenly feels false. The championship belt becomes meaningless. The real “octagon” is the hospital room. This is where Joo Jaekyung finally stops performing.
Inside the Octagon, his body continued functioning almost automatically. Years of training allowed him to strike, calculate, and destroy with terrifying precision even while emotionally he had already left the arena behind. But the hospital room strips away that final layer of mechanical control. For the first time in the chapter, there is no audience left to confront, no opponent left to destroy, and no role left to perform. Only Kim Dan remains.
And it is precisely this silence that transforms Joo Jaekyung completely. (chapter 99)
Throughout the series, Joo Jaekyung’s relationships were governed by an unconscious fear: the fear that attachment inevitably leads to rejection. His father did not merely punish him physically. He reacted to the child’s very presence with hostility and disgust. (chapter 99) As a result, Jaekyung internalized a devastating emotional logic. Being emotionally needy made him feel unwanted. Closeness became dangerous. Vulnerability became synonymous with humiliation.
This is why his relationship with Kim Dan remained so distorted for so long. Joo Jaekyung constantly sought proximity, yet he hid emotional dependence behind sex, money, possessiveness, irritation, or authority. Genuine emotional need terrified him because emotional dependence implied the possibility of rejection afterward.
And this is precisely why Baek Junmin’s words before the fight were so psychologically destructive: (chapter 99)
“You might never see him again.”
At first glance, the sentence appears to function like simple emotional manipulation designed to induce guilt. But its true impact runs much deeper. For a brief moment, Joo Jaekyung is forced back into the emotional position of the abandoned child once again: the boy not chosen, the boy left behind 
(chapter 73), the boy whose existence ultimately failed to make people stay.
Except this time, something changes fundamentally. Kim Dan cannot reject him. Kim Dan lies unconscious. 
(chapter 99) The feared separation is no longer tied to humiliation, disgust, disappointment, or emotional abandonment. It is tied to death itself. (chapter 99) And this distinction completely destroys the old psychological structure governing Joo Jaekyung’s relationships.
Earlier in the story, emotional distance could still be controlled through anger, domination, emotional withdrawal, or physical possession. 
(chapter 34) Pride could function as protection because rejection still belonged to the realm of human choice. But death cannot be negotiated with. Death cannot be emotionally controlled. Death strips away performance, ego, hierarchy, and pride.
This is why the hospital scene becomes emotionally revolutionary for Joo Jaekyung’s character. For perhaps the first time in his life, he experiences attachment without interpreting vulnerability as humiliation. And Mingwa visually announces this transformation even before Joo Jaekyung begins crying. 
(chapter 99)
One particularly striking panel depicts him in near-complete shadow after the fight. His eyes disappear entirely, but so does his mouth. The visual effect is deeply unsettling because the image no longer resembles the “Emperor” readers have known throughout the series. Earlier in Jinx, Jaekyung’s identity was strongly tied to his gaze, his smile and speech. 
(chapter 41) His eyes projected dominance, intimidation, hierarchy, and emotional control, while his words often functioned as weapons protecting him from vulnerability. But in this moment, both are symbolically erased.
The champion who once controlled others through violence, commands, mockery, and physical presence suddenly becomes silent and unreadable. (chapter 99) This panel therefore functions almost like a metamorphosis.
Joo Jaekyung appears suspended between two emotional states: the ghost-like fighter who mechanically completed the violence inside the cage and the human being about to collapse emotionally beside Kim Dan’s hospital bed. The “Emperor” identity has not merely weakened; it is actively dissolving.
And this is precisely why the following hospital scene carries such devastating emotional weight.
Ironically, Joo Jaekyung can finally speak honestly 
(chapter 99) only because Kim Dan cannot answer him. Kim Dan’s unconsciousness temporarily removes the immediate fear of judgment and rejection that had governed Jaekyung’s emotional life for years. His tears no longer emerge from wounded pride or fear of rejection. They emerge from something much more terrifying and much more human: the fear of irreversible loss.
That’s why his words gain enormous emotional weight. 
These lines matter because they are entirely stripped of control. (chapter 99) There is no aggression hidden inside them. No transaction. No domination. No pride. The “Emperor” disappears completely in this moment. (chapter 99) What remains is simply a man terrified of losing someone he loves forever. We could say, the tears wash away the “Emperor.”
Why does the wolf become so ruthless inside the ring? Because Baek Junmin accidentally destroys the old fear governing him. The child who feared rejection disappears the moment the possibility becomes death rather than humiliation. Suddenly, protecting Kim Dan matters more than hierarchy, pride, the audience, the title, or even Jaekyung’s own identity as champion. This is why the fight appears so frightening to outsiders. The public sees only violence because they cannot perceive the emotional truth behind it. They witness a ruthless champion abandoning his humanity. But the readers understand the exact opposite. For the first time in the entire series, Joo Jaekyung is not fighting to protect his ego, his title, or the image of the “Emperor.” He is fighting because someone precious might disappear forever.
The Alchemy of Tears
This visual erasure of his features leads to the chapter’s true catharsis. 
(chapter 99) When the tears finally fall, they carry a symbolic weight that transcends simple grief. Throughout the series, Jaekyung’s body has functioned as a suit of armor—a fortress of hardness, discipline, and emotional immovability. In his world, pain was always displaced; it was never felt, only inflicted upon others through violence or control. He was the man who struck, never the man who collapsed.
But beside Kim Dan’s bed, that armor finally shatters. (chapter 99) For the first time, his agony is not converted into aggression; it is allowed to remain as grief. These tears accomplish what the brutality of the Octagon never could: they return the “Ghost” to his own skin.
This scene represents an emotional rebirth rather than a collapse. The “Emperor”—an identity built entirely on suppression and invulnerability—cannot survive this level of sincerity. 
(chapter 99) The tears act as a solvent, dissolving the emotional paralysis that has governed him since his childhood. At the same time, they also allow Joo Jaekyung to confront something he had carried unconsciously for years: the guilt, fear, and emotional burden surrounding his father’s death. 
(chapter 74)
Throughout the series, Jaekyung fought as though strength itself could protect him from becoming his father. 
(chapter 75) Victory became proof that he was not weak, not broken, not destined to fail the same way. But this also trapped him psychologically inside the father’s shadow. Every fight became tied to survival, worth, and the terror of becoming a “loser.”
In the hospital room, however, Kim Dan’s possible death suddenly reorganizes his entire emotional world. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung is no longer fighting to justify his own existence through violence or victory. He is simply afraid of losing someone he loves. (chapter 99)
And paradoxically, this finally allows him to stop reliving his father’s death through himself. (chapter 99) The tears therefore symbolize more than grief alone. They mark the moment when the son stops trying to survive through the Emperor identity and begins existing as a human being capable of mourning, loving, and fearing loss openly.
This is why the final irony of Episode 99 becomes so powerful.
The public interprets the champion’s violence as proof that he has lost his humanity. In reality, the tears reveal the exact opposite. Joo Jaekyung cries because, for the first time in his life, he allows himself to love someone more than he fears losing himself.
And that is why Episode 99 does not merely depict the breaking of the jinx.While the public looks at the carnage in the ring and sees a man who has lost his humanity, the readers see the exact opposite. The extraordinary irony of Episode 99 is that Joo Jaekyung has never been more human than in the moment he allows himself to cry. He finally accepts a reality where loving someone else is more important than the fear of losing his own ego. The “Jinx” wasn’t just a ritual; it was a barrier. By breaking it, Jaekyung doesn’t just win a fight—he finally allows the man hidden beneath the Emperor to breathe.
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(chapter 87), and the destruction of black glass under Baek Junmin’s foot. 
(chapter 87) Both moments operate under pressure, yet they belong to radically different economies. One gathers force inward to protect, contain, and care. The other expels force outward to fracture, dominate, and erase. The biggest difference is not intensity, but direction—and whether the other is held, or destroyed.
(chapter 87) He asks for strength and luck 
(chapter 87). Only then does the squeeze occur. Words initiate connection; the body confirms it. Speech and gesture align. Pressure becomes care.
(chapter 87) —but they are refused. Baek Junmin is denied any possibility of reply—no space to answer, to justify himself, or even to speak back. 
(chapter 87) The screen interposed between them 
(chapter 87) functions as both a physical and symbolic barrier: it delivers judgment without permitting response. Deprived of dialogue, Junmin is pushed out of language altogether. What remains available to him is not speech, but the body. His answer therefore does not come in words, but through the hand
(chapter 87) and then through the foot. 
(chapter 87) The violence is not misdirected; it is precisely directed at the medium that silences him. The screen is the site of exclusion, 
(chapter 87), before the challenge 
(chapter 87), the champion turns around.
(chapter 87) 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 40) 
(chapter 51), its meaning sharpens. For the first time, Kim Dan no longer occupies the position of fan or witness. He functions as judge and jury. 😮 And the champion acts accordingly. He declares himself the winner. 
(chapter 87) Joo Jaekyung is no longer a puppet or zombie, but a man with a heart and voice. 
(chapter 46) It regulates turn-taking, determines who may speak, in what order, and under which framing. As long as it remains in the moderator’s hand, speech is mediated, filtered, and contextualized. Questions lead; answers follow. Meaning circulates vertically.
(chapter 87) He no longer moderates; he reacts. He cannot redirect the statement, soften it, or translate it into spectacle. He can only acknowledge that something has escaped containment. The apology is not moral—it is procedural. It marks the moment the institution loses authorship. 
(chapter 57); he is narrating. He does not answer a question 
(chapter 14) Yet, CSPP 
appears more and more insistently 
(chapter 87), even in the cage
(chapter 87), contrary to before. 
(chapter 15) Either you only see the C or the name is placed out of the frame. 
(chapter 40) Yet it remains unexplained. What does it stand for in the world of Jinx? A sponsor? A broadcaster? The story never defines it explicitly—and that absence matters. What goes unnamed is often what exercises the most power. I will elaborate about it further.
(chapter 36) —depends on mediation. Delay. Scoring. Interpretation. The quiet redistribution of meaning after the fact. As long as nothing is said outright 
(chapter 69), control remains possible. Once speech becomes public, control becomes fragile.
(chapter 87), people in the seaside town, a public that exists before commentary can shape it.
(chapter 87) And the fight already answers the questions the system hopes to postpone. What we see in the cage is not merely a contest of strength, but a clash of communicative regimes. How one fights here is inseparable from how one speaks, evades, provokes, or withholds.
(chapter 87) His movement privileges distance, tempo 
(chapter 87) and visibility. That way he gives the impression that he is superior to the former champion. The middle kick appears not as a finishing tool 
(chapter 87), but as an instrument of disruption—enough to score, enough to interrupt rhythm, never enough to end the exchange. The rest of his offense follows the same logic: repeated punches to the face 
(chapter 87), the hands, the shoulder. Targets chosen not for collapse, but for points. Not to silence the opponent, but to keep him talking through damage. The choice of targets is not arbitrary. The hands and the shoulder are not neutral zones. They are sites of vulnerability that presuppose knowledge. Arnaud Gabriel does not fight, as if he were discovering his opponent in real time; he fights as if he were acting on prior information. 
(chapter 82) He anticipated a diminished MMA fighter at the end of his career who would train at the hotel gym. His punches repeatedly return to the same areas—not to finish, but to aggravate. Not to silence, but to extract fatigue.
(chapter 87) The shoulder carries the memory of surgery and recovery. The hands mediate both offense and defense; exhausting them degrades reach, timing, and confidence. And breathlessness 
(chapter 82)—noticed earlier during training—signals something even more fragile: limits that are physiological, not tactical.
(chapter 87) It aligns disturbingly well with what had already circulated outside the match: commentary about tension, exhaustion, time away from competition. Whether through media narratives, observation, or informal channels of intelligence, the opponent’s body has already been translated into information.
(chapter 47) Already discussed. Already framed. Gabriel’s reliance on point accumulation is inseparable from this logic. 
(chapter 87) —his decision to close distance, to counter decisively, to end the exchange rather than prolong it—appears less like impatience than resistance. He does not correct the narrative. He interrupts it.
(chapter 51) The fight is no longer about what happens between bodies, but about who controls evaluation. And that’s how they could rig the match between Baek Junmin and Joo Jaekyung. 
(chapter 70) acquires a different meaning. What he condemns as arrogance is not a moral failure, but a structural adaptation. These fighters have learned that they do not need to finish fights with a knockout. They only need to prolong them—to survive them—because the system will finish the sentence for them. Therefore, the moderator’s commentary during the match introducing the new Korean fighter takes on a clearer function. 
(chapter 71) He frames the rookie as someone “waiting for the right timing,” subtly suggesting a coming knockout rather than prolonged survival. The language is important: it reassures the audience that decisiveness still exists within the system, that power is merely deferred—not absent.
(chapter 71) The director is not persuaded. Hwang Byungchul reads the situation differently. He recognizes stiffness, fear, and overreliance on structure—not composure, not strategy. Where the moderator sees patience, the director sees hesitation. Where commentary insists on strategy, experience detects rigidity and lack of instincts.
(chapter 81) It is an assumption: that the outcome no longer requires athletic intervention. The champion is treated as a finished product, a celebrity whose role is to endure visibility, not to alter the terms of the fight itself.
(chapter 82) and inside the cage. 
(chapter 87) Publicly, he is courteous. Measured. Even complimentary. 
(chapter 82), gentle and polite gestures, and tactical distance— away from the spotlight, away from overt confrontation. His restraint is not humility, but alignment. He performs civility so that judgment, narration, and authority can be outsourced to the institution. That’s why for him, fighting is strongly intertwined with fun and he sees himself more as a star than as an athlete. He is definitely influenced by MFC. Hence we can say that his suit mirrors his mind-set. Gabriel’s suit does not soften his presence; it disciplines it. The patterned fabric signals rigidity rather than elegance—structure over fluidity. It mirrors his fighting style: calibrated, rule-bound, resistant to improvisation. Nothing about his appearance invites rupture. Everything is designed to hold form.
(chapter 52) He lets others speak, provoke, circulate images, manage money, create pressure. 
(chapter 54) His power does not come from direct address, but from displacement. When he does appear, it is rarely to argue. 
(chapter 49) It is to smirk, to whisper, to apply pressure obliquely. In both cases, the logic is identical: control is preserved by never being fully present.
(chapter 87) It is more observation. He allows the opponent to speak first—to reveal the structure of the exchange. 
(chapter 87) When it lands, it collapses distance. It forces the opponent inward. And crucially, it targets the center of the body—not the face that earns applause, but the core that sustains movement.
(chapter 87) and delivers an uppercut. 
(chapter 87) This is not escalation; it is completion. Where Gabriel sought to keep the fight open, Joo Jaekyung compresses it. He refuses the long exchange. He refuses circulation. He refuses to wait for judgment. His strategy is not to be evaluated later, but to be undeniable now. 
(chapter 87) This is not silence imposed from outside, but silence produced by gravity. Once the body crashes, breath cannot return, and speech has nowhere to perch. 
(chapter 87)
(chapter 74) 
(chapter 87) 
(chapter 87) His actions arrive before meaning can be reassigned. His words arrive where no answer is prepared. In this sense, episode 87 marks the moment Joo Jaekyung becomes fluent in his own discipline. Not merely competent, not merely dominant, but articulate. His movements surprise 
(chapter 69) , the switching, the method—the institution could have responded. Clarifications could be issued. Liability could be managed. But by speaking elliptically, by pointing to manipulation without anatomizing it, the champion places the burden of interpretation onto the audience. And MFC can not deny the existence of an incident in the locker room.
(chapter 62) They are not close enough to trust the system blindly.
(chapter 57)
(chapter 69), by allowing attention to cluster around foreign misconduct 
(chapter 69) and public embarrassment 
(chapter 74) Early incidents reframed as character. Let’s not forget that he was stigmatized as a thug by the members from Team Black too. 
(chapter 47) Nothing new needs to be invented. Only reassembled. They know about the dragon’s past, because they brought Baek Junmin, someone who resented the celebrity for his wealth and fame. 
(chapter 31) The system does not deny the champion’s words ; it reclassifies them. What was a refusal of manipulation becomes “anger issues.” What was naming becomes “acting out.”
(chapter 72) It only needs to repeat an already accepted story: abandonment as necessity, violence as justification, disappearance as victimhood. A story the system knows how to circulate. And Hwang Byungchul never questioned her decision so far. 
(chapter 78) Secondly, Kim Dan is now able to distinguish the past from the present. Finally, thanks to doc Dan 
(chapter 62), he did so many good deeds in the seaside town that the inhabitants and the patients from the hospice won’t accept such accusations. I believe that such people won’t see “motherfucker” as a problem at all, they will rather see it as a part of his role after the match. What will remain in their mind is rather the accusation and riddle he voiced: the stunt Baek Junmin played. 
(chapter 87), which already tells us that CSPP does not function as a simple broadcaster. My idea is that CSPP operates as an intermediary apparatus: a company that packages events, sells broadcasting rights, coordinates visibility, and transforms violence into consumable spectacle. In other words, CSPP does not show fights; it produces events. This explicates why CSPP was present right from the start 
(chapter 14), but barely visible. But the moment it caught my attention in Paris, I realized that its increasing visibility displays the success of MFC as company. Observe that when the champion faced Randy Booker, the weight-in took place on the same day than the fight and in the arena, not at a prestigious hotel like in Paris. Here, the champion held a conference many days before the weight-in, and the latter took place the night before the match with Arnaud Gabriel. Secondly, you can observe the success of MFC through the banners. In Busan, the website of MFC was posed in the background next to CSPP. 
(chapter 50), only MFC and CSPP. But in Paris, it is now totally different. 
(chapter 48), and distribution platforms, insulating each layer from direct responsibility. If something goes wrong, blame can always be displaced sideways.
(chapter 35), his suspension 
(chapter 57) 
(chapter 70) His matches are scheduled at hours accessible even to a Korean hospital 
(chapter 41) or hospice patients. 
(chapter 71) becomes intelligible. It is not a mark of anticipation, but of expendability. The match is placed where attention is thinnest, where failure or success carries minimal consequence. By contrast, Joo Jaekyung’s fights are positioned to be seen. The asymmetry exposes how dependent MFC’s visibility economy is on him—not as a competitor, but as the primary organizer of audience attention.
(chapter 47) His presence circulates through curated highlights and controlled conference footage rather than open broadcast. 
(chapter 47) His rise is engineered through selective visibility. 
(chapter 47) Weak opponents are chosen. 
(chapter 47) His image is inflated before he ever faces Joo Jaekyung. CSPP does not need to expose him fully; it needs only to prepare recognition. However, CSPP is an official company, they can not control rumors among fighters. 
(chapter 47) Thus the manager suggested this to his boss just before: 
(chapter 46) By mentioning the existence of spies, he incited the main lead to keep his distance from the doctor and the members so that the rumors about the underground fighting wouldn’t reach his ears.
(chapter 14), the United States, Paris—the fights are placed in high-visibility slots. Loss must be witnessed. Decline must be shared. By contrast, the fight between Baek Junmin and Joo Jaekyung takes place in the morning 
(chapter 49), a time of dispersed attention, private viewing, and reduced collective response. Visibility is not maximized; it is managed. 
(chapter 49) CSPP’s role, then, is not neutral mediation. It is temporal governance. It decides when exposure becomes dangerous and when it becomes profitable. It does not silence events; it times them.
(chapter 77) Once Joo Jaekyung does not contest the loss of his title—once he does not sue, demand more investigation, or interrupt the administrative process— MFC and CSPP no longer need to justify anything. Delay becomes normalization. Silence becomes confirmation.
(chapter 49) Under normal medical protocol, this should have stopped the fight immediately. 
(chapter 41) No athlete should perform when injured. Yet MFC Medical remains silent, the staff simply treats the wound. The bout proceeds. Only later—after attention has shifted, after consequences have begun to circulate—does the same medical authority step forward to issue disciplinary sanctions and a suspension 
(chapter 52) There were cameras in the arena. What cannot be allowed to surface is proof of foreknowledge: that an injured athlete was permitted to fight under institutional supervision. Thus it raises the question if the match in the morning was broadcast on TV. 
(chapter 52) Structural complicity is translated into an individualized incident. What occurred in the cage is no longer the issue; what occurred afterward becomes the narrative.
(chapter 46) that began elsewhere—losses already acknowledged when Choi Gilseok brought him into the system in the first place. 
(chapter 30) This implies that he won’t remain passive and silent like in the past, relying on structure and institutions (Entertainment agency…) and accepting to become a scapegoat. 
(chapter 54) 
(chapter 82) Jinx-Lovers consider it as their first real date, a long-awaited moment of levity after so much pain. But perhaps we should pause and ask: why this place? 
(chapter 82) scattered on the table, one displays the Eiffel Tower — the obvious choice, symbol of mastery and control. Built for the Exposition Universelle of 1889, it was meant to celebrate France’s industrial power and the centenary of the Revolution — proof that bourgeoisie and steel, not kings and nobility, now ruled the sky and ground. It was even supposed to be dismantled after twenty years, yet it remained, and has since become the symbol of Paris and of France. A monument to progress, modernity, freedom, national pride and endurance. 
(chapter 38) Hence in the States he is here turning his back to the window and his only connection to others was through the cellphone. The cities he visited were backdrops, not experiences. He was always alone. And yet, here, something changes in Paris. 
(chapter 82) His hotel room opens onto a broad window and a balcony — an invitation to look out. Secondly, observe that he only proposed this activity after the other members had fallen sick. When doc Dan barged in his room, the champion was doing a one-handed handstand, holding his entire weight as if defying gravity itself 
(chapter 82) and proving his recovery. The posture seemed like control, yet it was closer to self-punishment — an immobility that devoured strength. Blood rushed to his heart and head, but his lungs stayed empty. It was, unconsciously, his way of treating his breathlessness. This also shows that he had no real expectation about the “rest” his manager had suggested 
(chapter 82) — the drinking, the empty and aimless trip (“check out the area”). For the wolf, such a downtime could only mean endurance, not release and excitement. By the way, such a suggestion from Park Namwook borders on stupidity and blindness. How could he propose drinking, when he had seen his “boy” indulged in alcohol before?
(chapter 54) I guess, he must have taken the celebrity’s words at face-value. But let’s return our attention to the panel with the brochures selected by the champion. If you look carefully, you will detect the presence of 4 stars. 
(chapter 82) How do I come to this interpretation? We have seen these stars before, during Kim Dan’s Summer Night’s Dream: the same glittering symbols of softness and excitement.
(chapter 44) Yet, this time, the little “stars” belong to the celebrity. 
(chapter 82) His choice of the amusement park is not really about himself and his desires— it is an act of care, a wish to give happiness to someone else.
, Sleeping Beauty 
and Beauty and the Beast 
).Hence there is the castle on the brochure. 
(chapter 82) For both, it was financially and emotionally out of question. It grounds the symbolism of the amusement park in social reality, reminding readers that “fun” is also a form of privilege. This means that the champion is actually on his way to replace this picture: 
(chapter 65) So yes, this may look like a simple date. Yet beneath its playful surface lies the quietest revolution of all: the man who once ignored every view now opens the window, looks outward, and chooses wonder and fun over war.
(chapter 81), but not about the geography and air. I had truly detected the importance of this image and its symbolism. The plane that opened this arc spoke not of luxury, but of altitude — of a life lived too high, where oxygen is rationed by pride. Below the aircraft stretch the Alps, which I had correctly identified. From there flows the athlete’s own water – Evian 
(chapter 82) (written Evien in the manhwa) — drawn from the mountain that sustains him and starves him at once.
(chapter 81): the rising smoke, the suggestion of a light already suffocated. The higher they bring him, the closer he moves to extinction. Besides, the higher he climbs, the harder the fall. In other words, they are trying to break him — to make him fall — something the athlete has already sensed. 
(chapter 82) 
(chapter 82) — a creature of heights and thin air, born to dominate the skies where others can barely breathe. The metaphor could not be clearer: altitude is his arena, but also his undoing. 
(chapter 81) The air remains clear and generous, the sky washed in blue as if nothing could go wrong. Yet the trees, touched by the first copper tones, announce the slow turn of the year. It is a calm, lucid atmosphere, the kind of weather that hides transition inside serenity. The unseen Seine glides through the city like a long breath, steady and effortless.
(chapter 82), to build joy outside the ring 
(chapter 81) A single breath — huu — escapes, white against the air. It looks like calm, but it isn’t. It’s the sound of a man forcing his body to obey. The clenched fist that follows betrays him: anxiety condensed into muscle. 
(chapter 81) The champion has descended, yet the altitude still lives inside him.
(chapter 14), but his lungs and heart. Yet at the airport, the sportsman doesn’t realize it 
and makes the following resolution: 
(chapter 69) Back then, he feared for doc Dan’s life and ran as if his own heart depended on it. His breathlessness wasn’t exhaustion but panic: the instinctive terror of losing the person who keeps him alive. Thus when he saw him alive on the dock, he could start breathing properly: 
(chapter 69) From HUFF to HAA… exhale versus inhale.
(chapter 82) His brain and heart remember that night at the dock; every harsh inhale during practice echoes that same dread of separation.
(chapter 82) And how did the champion respond to that provocation? Like a cornered animal. 
(chapter 82) He became the wolf again, not out of jealousy, but out of survival reflex—his body screaming its panic in place of words. In that instant, he was reminded that he could lose doc Dan as a partner, that the bond he relies on might not belong to him forever.. The roar emptied his chest; his lungs gave out before his pride did. There was no air left in his body… thus the heart and lung couldn’t work properly. 
(chapter 75) The fearsome beast who once fought for dominance is gone. What remains is a tamed wolf, following his master’s voice (doc Dan) — not out of submission, but because he finally trusts where it leads. 
(chapter 82) He is now a tamed wolf following his master’s suggestions! 
(chapter 82) Thus the coach is now facing the couple. And now, my avid readers can understand why the champion seems almost radiant when he finds himself alone with doc Dan at the amusement park. It is not mere joy or freedom; it is the relief of finally acting from desire instead of duty 
(chapter 55) 
(chapter 79) The scene functions as both mirror and revelation: it forces the fighter to face the truth he has avoided all his life. In the past, he had never truly fallen. His defeats were painful, but never fatal; his failures never signified the end of a life. He could always stand up again — until now. Watching Kim Dan lean over the edge forces him to confront the difference between metaphor and mortality.
(chapter 73) – surrounded by bottles and syringes (chapter 73). Addiction, gambling, and intoxication: all ways of trying to rise above reality, to feel high, if only for a moment. Joo Jaewoong quite literally died from altitude, from chasing a false form of air. His father had tried to climb the social ladder through sport, to escape the poverty that trapped them, but he had failed. Those words 
(chapter 73), thrown like stones by the father at his son, buried themselves in the boy like shards.. They echoed like a curse — a prophecy Joo Jaekyung would spend his whole life disproving.
(chapter 72) 
(chapter 72), yet she made no attempt to build an independent life. Her survival had always depended on his success — and when his career crumbled, she vanished with it. That’s the reason why the trash remained uncollected — a visual proof of abandonment 
(chapter 72) But the little boy failed to notice it, because he was suffering from the father’s abuse. Before leaving, she gave her son a phone number, as if absence were only temporary, as if love could be reached through a dial tone. That small gesture sustained an illusion: that she would come back if he became strong enough, rich enough, worthy enough. That illusion became the foundation of his life.
(chapter 72) His first fight was not about trophies — it was an act of filial negotiation: a promise to buy her return. But of course, 300 dollars could not rebuild a family. His first fall became the confirmation of her silence. This explicates why he recalls his first tournament and considers it as “fall”. He had not been able to win, thus the mother could not return. He doesn’t fight for glory or passion; he fights to avoid being discarded again. So, when he says “I won’t fall again,” what he really means is “I won’t let myself be unloved again.” 
(chapter 72) But the problem is that when he was finally able to reach his mother, the latter answered that Joo Jaekyung was too late. The mother’s words sealed the curse. He was “already grown up now” 
(chapter 74), hence he no longer needed her — as if maturity meant he no longer needed love. She actually implied that she had been all this time by his side. 
(chapter 74), while in reality, she had long abandoned him. Her departure turned growth into punishment, and independence into exile. This explicates why as an adult, he used money to buy people and turn them into toys. This could only make appear as a spoiled brat. 
(chapter 79) Even Park Namwook himself, only days earlier, had described the French match as 
(chapter 81) “a breeze” — a fight so effortless that it would bring some fresh air into the champion’s career. But that metaphor betrays its irony: what was supposed to refresh him is now suffocating him. The “breeze” promised by his manager has turned into lack of air.
(chapter 70) — a detail no one around him ever learned. This simple fact overturns their interpretation. 
(chapter 70) The breathlessness they see now is not a decline in performance, but the residue of transformation. His body, once trained to suppress every weakness, had finally surrendered to nature.
(chapter 46), whose clash with the champion exposes two different forms of frustration.
(chapter 46) He reproaches Seonho for using his title and image to promote himself, for bragging about their sparring sessions to boost his career. From his perspective, Seonho lacks both endurance and authenticity — he performs strength rather than living it. 
(chapter 46) For Jaekyung, such behavior is intolerable because it cheapens everything he has sacrificed to achieve.
(chapter 46) He turns on Jaekyung and accuses him of arrogance — of using his champion title to look down on others. What Seonho perceives as disdain is, in truth, the athlete’s defense mechanism. The star’s detachment is not born from pride but from obligation and trauma (abandonment issues). 
(chapter 46) His perfection is not freedom; it is captivity.
(chapter 52) tried to recruit Potato, the youngest member from Team Black. He wanted to become the new idol of Hwang Yoon-Gu. He imagined that he could replace the main lead and Potato would be happy to become the new sparring partner of Seonho. 
(chapter 81) 
(chapter 82) and press coverage — to lift his name higher. That’s why Mingwa made sure to show him at the press conference. 
(chapter 82) Every post, every camera flash, every headline serves as borrowed oxygen. 
(chapter 82) The grin that follows is one of self-satisfaction and superficiality, not connection. It’s the smile of a man admiring his own reflection in another’s confusion — proof that he controls both the scene and the gaze. This shows that he had no intention to make the protagonist jealous. And it is clear that he never saw the wolf’s rage afterwards. 
(chapter 82) That way, his “vulnerability” would be masked. No one would question the champion’s health. And this brings me to my next observation. 
(chapter 70). Both men embody the same cruelty disguised as professionalism — one in the ring, the other from the shadows. They blame the champion for the new match, none of them question the system. 
(chapter 36) or the media’s harsh verdicts after defeat 
(chapter 82) He is now seen signing autographs 
(chapter 82), whereas in the past, he was only seen in company of reporters in a secluded area. 
(chapter 40) 
(chapter 69) The victory would be branded as hollow, a publicity stunt rather than an athletic achievement. 
(chapter 82) first unveiled at the World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893, was created to transform height into play. Conceived by engineer George Washington Ferris as America’s answer to the Parisian tower, it sought to outshine France not through steel alone, but through motion — a structure that would rise and fall, carrying ordinary people with it. Unlike the fixed tower, the wheel invited participation: passengers would move together, share the air, rise and descend without fear. It was both monument and moment — a way to democratize the sky.
Here the athlete has only one goal: talk to doc Dan and clean the air. He has no intention to truly rekindle with him 
Thus he is still stuck in a traffic jam. 
Here, there is a progression, because he can switch the lane. However, he is still driving in one direction, not looking out of the window. He is not taking his time either. These scenes illustrate the champion’s psychological confinement and mirror doc Dan’s mindset as well.
(chapter 75)
(chapter 27) 
(chapter 80) He has not grasped that he can make the champion happy. In fact, this day would represent a real break and rest, as they would learn nothing, only make new experiences so that life can appear colorful again. Here, we can see two balloons in the form of heart: green and yellow. 
(chapter 52) a kid versus a grown-up, both rejected and silenced. 
(chapter 74) Joo Jaekyung would have achieved his goal: even vulnerable or childish, he is still lovable. 
(chapter 41) They were destined to be together and lived happily. 
(chapter 55)
(chapter 74) What does it mean that a man who once reached for his mother’s voice is now suspended between clouds, unreachable himself? 
(chapter 74) Why does the same stillness that once followed a farewell now fill the air around his flight?
(chapter 65) Let’s not forget that the last poster of chapter 81 
(chapter 74) In that earlier scene, the smoke rises from burning incense sticks which is linked to scent — the invisible bridge between the living and the dead. Here, it reappears as the airplane’s exhaust 
(chapter 75), perfume 
(chapter 75), sweat and sex 
(chapter 75), the forbidden comfort that ended in scolding. 
(chapter 72) When he finally received it, it was not from a mother but from the director — a man whose gift could fill the stomach but not the heart. From that day, nourishment and submission became one.
(chapter 72) And yet every attempt at purification only buried the rot more deeply. The more he washed, the more the stain spread inward — invisible, odorless, yet consuming.
(chapter 81) — the same spot where he once sprayed his perfume 
(chapter 40) — it is more than desire: it is instinct, possession, and search. The gesture blurs the line between hunger and recognition, as if he were trying to inhale and keep what had always eluded him. The scent he once sought in bottles and rituals now breathes through another body, one that refuses to be contained. So when Jaekyung breathes against Dan’s skin, he is no longer trying to mask the stench of loss but to find the source of something living. The doctor’s scent does not erase hunger; it answers it. For the first time, the wolf eats without devouring. 
(chapter 44) — nuzzling the one destined to become his anchor. Jinx-philes can observe not only the presence of steam (which is similar to smoke), but also the effect of the scent. Back then, the champion had calmed down thanks to the hamster’s scent. 
(chapter 44) To conclude, that moment, half dream and half awakening, had already begun to rewrite the map of scent. There, the fragrance from doc Dan had triggered his appetite, hence he couldn’t restrain himself during that night. 
(chapter 45) 
(chapter 65) He will make sure that doc Dan doesn’t smoke again and his scent remains pure. This signifies that the wolf will pursue its source through the smoke of deception, through the perfume of luxury and corruption. The doctor becomes both compass and contrast — the pure odor that exposes every false aroma around him. Through Dan’s scent he will breathe again—through that fragile, living fragrance the wolf begins to track the truth that stinks beneath luxury and lies.
(chapter 36) When the champion left South Korea for the United States in episode 36, the plane glided through a void of light. There was no sky, no earth, no horizon — only a white expanse pierced by the sun’s glare. Even the boundaries of air and space seemed dissolved. The image radiated purity but felt sterile, stripped of texture. The machine was rising, not toward a destination but away from attachment itself.
(chapter 37), the heart disinfected of need. Hence the bed became an instrument of “torture”. The upward flight marked a beginning, yet it already smelled of exhaustion and futility. A life built on departure cannot land anywhere.
(chapter 36) instead of naming Joo Jaekyung himself. He might have stood beside the MMA fighter the entire time, yet he preferred to disappear behind collective language, as if the plural could shield him from personal involvement. It was a professional gesture, an attempt to efface the self, to stand beside the fighter without belonging to him. His role was service, not solidarity; his language confirmed distance. Thus his karma was that he got abandoned by the team after the match, while rescued by the celebrity himself!! 
(chapter 81) translates that awareness into sensation. It’s no longer the passivity of a bystander but the heartbeat of someone invested. The count of days becomes a shared horizon between doctor and fighter, a bridge of feeling. 
(chapter 37) The others indulge in small pleasures — snacks, shopping, light rebellion — but the champion and his doctor remain trapped in routine, orbiting one another inside sterile rooms. I am suspecting that doc Dan must have bought the scarf at the airport, a small act of thoughtfulness before departure. 
(chapter 41) Yet the gesture, though sincere, carries a quiet irony. The scarf is printed with flowers, mostly roses, but as a piece of fabric it has neither scent nor warmth. It imitates life without containing it. What he gives her, in truth, is a copy of affection, not its essence — a bouquet that cannot breathe.
(chapter 37) The answer lies in the contrast between the smell of life and the smell of emptiness. While others seek flavor in hot ramen or the sweetness of snacks, the champion’s room remains odorless, air-conditioned, antiseptic. Then, in the quiet of night, a faint aroma drifts toward him, the flavor of hot ramen. And now observe the progression of scents through Jinx. 
(chapter 72) — the garbage, the spoiled food, the stale air of neglect. What he truly covers is not his nose, but his fear of returning there. Later, in episode 22, when Dan cooks for him, the champion instinctively associates food with corruption: 
(chapter 22) Interesting is that here fish has a negative connotation: intrusion and thoughtlessness. This shows how detached the champion was from his true self: water and the ocean. Moreover, cooking, warmth, nourishment—all evoked garbage, the chaos of his first home.
(chapter 54) couldn’t nourish him. Hence he replaced it with wine for a while.
(chapter 32) The blue tie contains 3 striped colors: red, white and blue, which are quite similar to French flag, though the order has been switched. Secondly, Choi Heesung purchased 
(chapter 32) Hermès’ item, a French company famous its bags, scarfs and perfumes. So I am quite certain that once Jinx-philes discovered the identity of the next fighter 
(chapter 81) and saw the plane, they must have jumped to the conclusion that the next fight will take place in Paris! But France is more just than the capital. This country is called the Hexagon due to its form, and this name stands in opposition to the MMA ring, which is an octagon! 
(chapter 81) So we could say that despite the disadvantage being in a foreign country, they are “equal”, 6 colors against the team from the Hexagon, the blue light from the MMA ring. But let’s return our attention to Paris. The latter is widely recognized as the symbol of love, the global center for fashion, art, and stardom. The city has a deep historical connection to these fields, being the birthplace of haute couture and home to many of the world’s leading fashion houses and luxury conglomerates. Its cultural scene is equally rich, with a long history as a hub for artists and a more recent reputation for being a center for music and film stars. However, the image with the landing plane is actually revealing the truth. 
(chapter 14) Here, exactly like in the States, his trip to Busan never gave him the opportunity to visit the city and the beach, exactly like the athlete. The next airport to Cannes is Nice- Côte d’Azur and it looks more like the one in the Manhwa. Furthermore, the South of France has a milder climate in the fall, hence it is still possible to swim in September. Besides, in my last essay, I had connected the champion to Bruce Lee and water: 
Finally, Naturally, here I could be wrong with Cannes. Nevertheless, Cannes, with its glittering shorelines and film festival glamour, symbolizes the marriage of money (millionaires, yachts) and illusion — the theater of appearances. It is where contracts are made, where bodies are displayed, traded, and consumed through the gaze, the very economy that has always governed the champion’s existence. The wolf, once born among garbage and hunger, now finds himself surrounded by luxury, in a world perfumed with artificial success. Yet beneath the surface of that “breeze” and “splash” lingers the scent of corruption. The coastal light hides what the smoke once revealed: exploitation, manipulation, and the unspoken violence of commerce.
(chapter 59); silence had replaced air; life was drained of flavor. None of them truly enjoyed the nature: the ocean or the mountain. The seaside town was strongly intertwined with work 
(chapter 77) or danger. Then, when they returned to that place, their time was limited to visit the grandmother and the landlord. 
(chapter 81) They had no time to walk through the woods or visit the hills. They had no time for themselves. Consequently, I believe that in The French Riviera, the two of them will discover “savoir vivre”. Everything breathes, glows, and stirs. It is a land overflowing with color, aroma, and taste — precisely the senses that the wolf had long sought to erase through ritual. Doc Dan had led a similar life too, dedicated to his grandmother and work. If they are close to the sea, they might decide to walk on the beach together.
(chapter 69), where Baek Junmin once fought for the championship belt. Thailand in Jinx is not a paradise but a mirror of corruption — the place where victory turns into prostitution, where the body becomes currency. There, the Shotgun won a crown but not respect; his triumph was drenched in manipulation, spectacle, and moral decay. He was admired by no one, celebrated by ghosts.
(chapter 36), the transition from flight to arrival unfolds with seamless precision: no airport, no customs, no luggage — only the honk of city traffic and the flags fluttering over a hotel entrance. Everything about that journey screams logistics. It was a corporate trip, arranged, timed, and contained. The athletes passed through invisible gates, their movement stripped of individuality. The champion, like cargo, was transported rather than welcomed. His arrival, though triumphant 
(chapter 81)
(chapter 81) The suitcase becomes the true protagonist of this threshold. In that small vibration lies all the instability the white air once denied. It is his portable home, his compressed past, the fragile proof that he finally has something to lose. In the earlier arc, he could have vanished mid-flight and no one would have noticed; now, if the suitcase disappears, another heart will break. That difference measures his evolution. Yet it also marks new vulnerability: any hand can touch what he carries.
(chapter 41) and the wedding cabinet
(chapter 80) before it, the suitcase belongs to the same symbolic lineage. It is the container of intimacy — filled with clothes, precious items like pictures or books, with the silent evidence of presence. But unlike its predecessors, it moves. The wardrobe once stood still, rooted in the domestic; the wedding cabinet invited intrusion within a private world, as it was once discarded. The suitcase, however, carries that vulnerability into the public realm. It is exposure on wheels — the private made portable. 
(chapter 81) 
(chapter 81) and Kim Dan has still no idea that the athlete has kept them like cherished relics. He might have placed the notebook from Hwang Byungchul as well. However, the person carrying the suitcase is the manager: 
(chapter 55), where he expressed his desire to work for Joo Jaekyung for a long time. What would be the manager’s reaction, when he recalls this incident with the switched spray and Doc Dan’s sudden departure? Moreover, we have here “erased words”: to be ho… The timing of the discovery is really important. This could generate some tension and confrontation between the manager and the physical therapist. Besides, such a birthday card could generate negative feelings (like jealousy), Kim Dan is gradually taking more and more place in the athlete’s life. The violation that once occurred behind closed doors (the penthouse) now could happen in plain sight. The line between private and public collapses, just as the boundary between success and loss blurs.
(chapter 37). So when the manager says this, 
(chapter 75) While he was sick, he could recall this scene. 
(chapter 75) where the fighter could stay focused, though he was surrounded by noise and people. The advice had seemed trivial, when first given. Now it re-emerges as revelation. The emperor, once incapable of rest, now reads 
(chapter 81) beside someone who represents safety. The book becomes a bridge between wakefulness and sleep, a ritual that does not erase consciousness but calms it. Where his earlier practices sought to block sensation, this one restores it.
(chapter 80) And here, I had imagined that the mother had offered this t-shirt as a birthday present. 
(chapter 78), without the good night! That missing intimacy was not a void but a distortion — a tenderness twisted into survival. The mother’s touch, meant to console, existed only to protect herself. She kept the child close not out of affection but out of anxieties and resent, turning him into a living barrier between her and the man she resented. What he experienced as warmth was, in truth, defense and rejection; what seemed like closeness was the choreography of avoidance. Hence she never looked at her child. The body that should have been cradled for its own sake was held as cover, its value defined by its usefulness.
(chapter 29) which reminds us of breastfeeding. And now, look at the embrace in the swimming pool: 
(chapter 80). The hamster was imitating the behavior of the little Jaekyung in the past, clinching onto the “parent” like his life depended on him. But how did the athlete react to this embrace? He looked at his fated partner 
(chapter 80) and got all warm and fuzzy by looking at him: 
(chapter 81) A sign that the mother had never reacted the way her son is doing now, the feel to kiss the loved one! The problem is that in the swimming pool, the doctor’s scent and taste are covered by chlorine. 
(chapter 81) The wolf falls asleep next to someone, not on top of or apart from them. That small preposition — next to — carries the weight of redemption. The couch, once a site of violation 
(chapter 61) or solitude, becomes again what it was meant to be: a place of rest and tenderness. Thus he touches his fated partner’s legs over the cover, showing his care and respect. 
(chapter 81)
(chapter 81), he can recognize the false nature of his mother’s affection. What she offered was conditional, deceptive and self-centered; what the doctor gives is ordinary and consistent. No grand gestures, no promises — only presence. The doctor does not rehearse concern; he lives it through routine. And this ordinariness, paradoxically, becomes sacred. It was, as if the athlete was treating his own inner child through the physical therapist. 
(chapter 37)
(chapter 74) At this moment, the page itself turns black, veined with smoky whorls of gray — as though her words had burned into the air rather than spoken. “I can’t live with you… please understand… let’s just go our separate ways.” The sentences rise like vapors, leaving behind the faint residue of a scent that refuses to vanish. This visual texture — half smoke, half ink — captures her true condition: she dissolves herself with every attempt at escape.
France itself mirrors her — beautiful, perfumed, wrapped in silk and secrecy. She definitely climbed the social ladders through her second marriage, hence she could offer toys to her second son. The nation of couture and fragrance becomes the stage for the mother’s unmasking. Once the name of Joo Jaewoong rises again, questions about her will inevitably follow. And here, she can no longer hide behind silence or excuses. The myth of refinement — both hers and France’s — collapses under the weight of exposure.
(chapter 13) 
(chapter 48) — had mirrored faces, two bodies, two lights. This time, there is only one. The duel has vanished. What remains looks less like a fight and more like a myth in the making. 
(chapter 81) chosen to face the Emperor. According to Oh Daehyun, this man is fighting for the title of the hottest male athlete in the world. 
(chapter 14) Why is there this abbreviation? Why does the image proclaim a return while simultaneously concealing the full title? What does it signify? 
seems to be corroborated: this event doesn’t announce the glorious comeback it pretends to be, but a carefully staged trap. However, there is more to it. The longer I examine the composition 
(chapter 30) The latter had to learn fighting in order to play his role in the drama Extreme Worlds 
(chapter 29). 
(chapter 8) His eagle is spreading his wings in front of his god, the sun, attempting to fly closer to the sun. According to me, Joo Jaekyung is the sun. This explains the loyalty of this purple belt fighter toward the protagonist! 
(chapter 47) But that’s one possibility among others, one thing is sure. Oh Daehyun will play an important part during their stay in France.
(chapter 46) People would bet on him and win… they needed him to lose and break his “lucky streak”. In other words, the organization betrayed the body they once sold. They had prepared the fall long before the injury, the surgery, or the suspension. But their plan failed. Despite every setback, the wolf remained beloved at home. People still admired him, not for the trophies, but for his kindness 
and strength 
(chapter 62) In other words, what the champion did in the seaside town had a huge impact in his life and world. He lingered in the hearts of those he touched. He was not a fallen idol, nor a forgotten champion, but a living memory — proof that integrity leaves deeper marks than victory ever could. To conclude, his fame no longer comes from spectacle only but also from empathy and presence — from the very qualities the schemers and media system fail to grasp.
(chapter 81) The new battlefield is the face. Under this light, Jinx-philes will grasp why the agents from the Entertainment agency were so zealous in defending the star’s reputation. If he were to lose his good looks, they would lose one of their most profitable clients. 
(chapter 52), whose envy of beauty turned into a creed. Imagine this. Now he holds the championship belt, yet no one admires him. His ruined face became the excuse for his bitterness,
(chapter 52) and his rival the embodiment of everything he lost. He had to flee to Thailand to claim glory and admiration 
(chapter 52) In the past, his insult 
(chapter 74) merged anger with heat; now that very “hotness” materializes in the media and poster as smoke, an image of resentment turned into atmosphere. 
(chapter 74): the visible trace of a man who dares to rebel. He once watched the fighter smoke a plain cigarette and sneered at him for it, precisely because he knew it was not a joint. In Junmin’s world, violation meant courage and power intoxication. He assumed that fearlessness linked to drugs would bring admiration and success. Jaekyung’s refusal to accept their drug wasn’t prudence; it was, to him, an insult — a quiet act of superiority. The wolf’s restraint exposed his indifference and own dependency, and that humiliation still burns.
(chapter 74) The main lead was seen “wearing a black suit with three white strips” showing that he was the chief mourner. 
(chapter 74) Once you recognize this 
(chapter 73), hiding behind his hyungs, the mobsters who granted him borrowed strength and false belonging. Joo Jaekyung, by contrast, was raised in the ring — the gym shaped him as both a professional and a person.
(chapter 49) “kid”, “coward,” “chicken” 
(chapter 79) And the hamster followed the wolf’s request. This explicates why Potato is wearing a knee support brace — a sign that he is now tending to his own injuries without the doctor’s assistance. 
(chapter 81) It is a subtle but telling detail: the physical separation mirrors the emotional boundary now forming within the team. The healer’s hands have been withdrawn. So the emperor’s empathy is incomplete, hence he is only EMP. It extends only toward his chosen one — the doctor — and not yet to the others around him. True empathy, however, cannot be selective; it must reach beyond intimacy to encompass even those who do not stand at the center of affection.
(chapter 1) He was a beast of destruction, someone who made sure to crush his opponents without mercy 
(chapter 15) Unstoppable in his rage, he moved like a man possessed — bloodthirsty, unrelenting, fighting not for glory but for survival. Each strike was a declaration: I will not die.
(chapter 38) The doctor, too, has always been associated with clouds: soft, elusive, shifting with emotion. Thus I deduce that their paths will inevitably cross, dream and danger meeting in vapor and light. But more importantly, I perceive the smoke as a reference to the rising of doc Dan as physical therapist. 
(chapter 49) What looked like teamwork was mere coordination. Now, the visual disarray hides emotional harmony — the perfect yin-yang inversion of their past selves.
(chapter 36) One could think, the other members are not wearing it, for they don’t want to be associated with the champion. He has been stigmatized as a thug or a child losing his temper, the consequences of Park Namwook’s badmouthing. However, observe that even the star is not wearing it. 
(chapter 36) What once symbolized sponsorship and solidarity has quietly disappeared. The explanation seems obvious at first: the loss of commercial partners following scandal and suspension. 
(chapter 54) Yet the deeper implication is far more unsettling. The jacket was more than a uniform; it was a contract, a visible bond between fighter and system. Its absence signals abandonment. The champion may still fight under the MFC banner, but the federation no longer claims him with pride. He is now a free agent trapped in an invisible cage — tolerated, not trusted. He questioned MFC and their competence (see chapter 67 and 69).
(chapter 37) He could be mistaken for the owner of the gym or a person involved in the scheme. And this leads me to my next observation: the champion’s picture and posture!
(chapter 36) no cheering spectators — nothing recalls the hero’s welcomes of earlier arcs.
(chapter 74) but with a different public.
(chapter 47) Thus, 317 functions like a counterfeit signature — convincing enough to deceive even those inside the organization. What looks like promotion turns out to be execution by design, a fight that exists on paper but not on record. Hence no one is waiting for them at the airport. 
(chapter 16), the moment Heo Manwook thought that the “hamster” was working as an escort due to the name “Team Black”. 
(chapter 16) So because of the jacket Team Black, doc Dan could be mistaken for a prostitute. Naturally, Jinx-lovers will remember the great fight between Heo Manwook and his minions, when the athlete saved his fated partner. Back then, no one discovered his great action.
(Chapter 17) And how did the loan shark describe their world? Fake… he even called him a princeling, because he stands for the glamor and artificiality of MFC. He is the cover for the underground fights, drugs and money laundering. This connection reinforces my interpretation that the future match is « fake » and as such rigged. Then in chapter 37, the hamster met a Korean disguised as a MFC manager. 
(chapter 47) In the past, they participated in the underground matches of Gangwon Province, where Baek Junmin reigned as a local legend — a thug made myth through blood and rumor. 
(chapter 46), as they didn’t want to lose money. And what did Park Namwook say in episode 46? 
(chapter 46) But now, the same hunger for spectacle has simply migrated upward. What once belonged to the alleys has climbed into the penthouses. The illegal thrill of the poor has become the curated decadence of the rich. And they were invited to witness the death of the “emperor”, someone who tried to escape from his origins. Thus I deduced that this is only a match that the high rollers (I suppose, mostly people from the Occident, though expect some from South Korea) know about.
(chapter 81), breathing without bracing, learning that flow is strength. The author placed the swimming lessons here so we’d see him practice calm under pressure before he performs it in the ring. But observe that when he is in the swimming pool, he is expressing more and more his emotions. 
(chapter 81) In other words, during the swimming lessons, he was encouraged to find the right balance between instincts and control, which Bruce Lee recommended. It is no coincidence that he referred to the philosophy of yin and yang! 
(chapter 36) The pool inverts it. Laps replace lunges; rhythm and love replace revenge and hatred. Anger loses its grip because water refuses to hold it. And now, you can grasp why the athlete was calm during the meeting: 
(chapter 81) His fear and anger were no longer controlling his heart and mind. “One of the best lessons you can learn in life is to remain calm.” The swimmer learns it; the fighter must now prove it. Thanks to doc Dan, the athlete was incited not only to accept himself, but also to get self-knowledge.
(chapter 62), and you are in a state of constant learning. 
(chapter 80) The seaside town and doc Dan taught him kindness, the pool teaches him composure and precision, the poster’s smoke teaches him restraint: you don’t swat at vapor; you breathe and move through it. “It is far better to be alone than to be in bad company”—so he steps out of the schemers’ frame. “When you accept yourself, the whole world accepts you”—so he stops fighting the audience and starts speaking to one person who matters, then to many. In my opinion, Joo Jaekyung will use this bout to express his feelings for Doc Dan (“to me, martial arts means expressing yourself“) and the birthday card 
(chapter 17) And once the cloud (doc Dan) meets the steam 
(chapter 26) They have watched his fights 
(chapter 23), memorized his moves and titles, and repeated the anecdotes told in gyms and on TV. They’ve heard how he was “saved” by sports from a darker path, and cheered for him as the “Emperor” — the handsomest fighter, the man who broke the arcade’s punching machine 
(chapter 26), the champion who stands above the rest. But if the champion’s life is already an open book, why did Mingwa wait so long to reveal his childhood and family? The answer is simple. It is because Joo Jaekyung has been called the Emperor till his fight against Baek Junmin! These public portraits — the friendly banter in the gym, the theatrical ring intros — show us the merchandise, not the man. They are the carefully polished surface presented to fans and fellow fighters alike, repeated so often that even those closest to him believe them. Yet behind this image 
(chapter 70), Hwang Byungchul’s anger fell squarely on the champion. 
(Chapter 70) created the illusion that this break had been perceived as a punishment, and that Jaekyung was eager to prove himself once again. No wonder the director assumed he had given his consent.
(chapter 69) By erasing these details, the public sees only two players: the Emperor and his anonymous “team.” 
(chapter 69) It was as if the main lead, backed by his team, had personally approached MFC to request the match — an illusion strengthened by the opening line, “MFC’s former champion Joo Jaekyung will be returning to the ring this fall after serving his suspension.” This way, if the decision draws criticism, the CEO can retreat behind the fighter and his team, like they did in the past. 
(chapter 05). He has been chasing after his fated partner. Finally, he hasn’t even signed any paper or agreed at the meeting. In fact, he remained silent for the most part of the time and the reason for this urgent meeting was his request for proper investigation concerning the switched spray: 
(chapter 67) That’s the reason why this suggestion from the CEO appeared the very next day. 
(chapter 69) 
(chapter 61), it was paired with a recommendation for rehabilitation — not an immediate return to competition. This was actually a condition for his total recovery. On the other hand, the doctor imagined or suggested that his patient wished to return to the ring so soon. No medical professional ever signed off on an autumn fight. Yet the date is already set, and the headlines frames it as a confident comeback without any medical backup. The Emperor’s name is splashed everywhere, but none of the words belong to him.
(chapter 41), while the image released with the fall match announcement was the one from when he first won his champion title. 
(chapter 12), never mind that he hardly drinks. The gesture fits the fantasy they’ve built around him, not the reality of a man who rejects alcohol due to his addicted father, a reminder that even the tokens of admiration are shaped by the image, not the truth. So who is this so-called close associate or “Joo Jaekyung’s team” exactly that decides for him, speaks for him, and hides behind his title? Besides, why did the journalist change from “one of his close associates” to “Joo Jaekyung’s team”?
(chapter 57) The nickname, played for entertainment value, was another way of turning the champion into a caricature — a marketable, amusing persona instead of a man with a past and agency. It is quite telling that Park Namwook’s interview aired immediately after the anchor referred to Jaekyung as “Mama Joo Jaekyung Fighter.” This was not the lofty “Emperor” title repeated in gyms and ring intros — it was more a mocking nickname, a deliberate jab meant to provoke. In that moment, the Emperor was verbally pulled down from his pedestal, yet the images shown alongside the segment told a different story: carefully chosen shots of him as a champion, a visual echo of his marketable persona. The dissonance was striking.
(Chapter 52) This framing lets him claim the prestige of leadership while leaving himself room to withdraw if things go wrong. Yosep was the one notifying MFC and reporting the incident to the police, Potato explaining his discovery to Joo Jaekyung and blaming the star. 
(Chapter 36) He should tolerate the celebrity’s moods and put up with everything. The manager didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t get affected. But what is the consequence of such a passive tolerance? An individual’s self-esteem can slowly erode, leading to a gradual loss of their sense of self. They may stop recognizing their own desires, needs, and rights, often without even realizing this is happening. This is because emotional exhaustion often develops subtly over time, rather than appearing as a sudden, dramatic event. 
(chapter 31) when punished. In this light, Park Namwook embodies the very dynamic the article warns against: a figure who benefits from another’s compliance, maintaining control not through open dialogue, but through unspoken rules and the threat of exclusion.
(chapter 73), by becoming a boxer, the champion wouldn’t make a lot of money. With this comment, he implied that boxing in South Korea had been losing popularity 10 years ago. This explicates why gradually, the members from Hwang Byungchul left the studio. And it was likely the same in the illegal fighting circuit. 
(chapter 73) The popularity of MMA in the States gave them the opportunity to revive fighting sports, a figure who could draw crowds and sponsors, making such events fashionable again.
(chapter 72) instead of “hard-working,” a man who “chose sports over a dark path.” Yet if you look closely, this celebrated “ascension” 
(chapter 72) isn’t tied to the director’s boxing studio at all — it’s linked to the arcade’s punching machine incident. 
(chapter 72), the scars of his family history, and the years of survival before the cage. This is history rewritten, his boxing past and family erased. Why? His origins could expose the ugly verity: the link between criminality and boxing (as such fighting sports). Secondly, because his real story, though moving, lacked the glamorous allure needed to market him. His real story would have revealed that to rise to the top, you need relentless work, not a miraculous moment. That version was never going to sell as well as the “genius” myth.
(chapter 41) Observe how the manager is acting here. He is speaking, touching the star like his prize and possession. The Emperor became the merchandise, the illusion, the bait to draw both viewers and fighters. However, being “labeled as genius” can only push desperate fighters to take a short-cut: bribes and drugs. Hence Seonho couldn’t last a whole round. 
(chapter 46) And, like any product, once it was seen as damaged, its value plummeted. The moment he “lost” his title and suffered injury (chapter 52), the dream began to unravel. 
(chapter 52) This panel captures this shift perfectly: two fighters casually dismiss him over dinner. In those words, the Emperor isn’t a mentor, a champion, or even a man — he’s a broken commodity, no longer worth the investment. The same people who once fed off his popularity are the first to abandon him when the promise of easy gain disappears.
(chapter 22) He is even disposable. He is gradually giving more rights to his “boy”, the real director of Team Black. And the moment you perceive the manager as the main lead’s voice, you can grasp the true significance of the slap at the hospital: 
(chapter 52) For the first time, the main lead had voiced his own thoughts and emotions. He had used his real “voice”, revealed his unwell-being: 
(chapter 52) To this outburst, Park Namwook slapped Jaekyung in front of others (chapter 52). 
(chapter 52) He chose silence, and later avoidance, staying away from the gym. That silence was not weakness, but choice: he would listen less and less to his hyung. 
(chapter 36)
(chapter 73) — unfiltered, unmarketed, unprotected. It was raw, dangerous honesty, and it came at a cost: the loss of his voice!
(chapter 73) Six years earlier, however, his voice had already been battered by silence. After his mother’s abandonment at age six, the only connection he retained with her was a phone number —
(chapter 72) We don’t know how many times he called, but each time we see him do it, his face is injured. 
(chapter 72) The phone calls are therefore intertwined with the boxing studio, as though pain itself pushed him toward her. At ten, he picked up the receiver and let it ring only a few times before hanging up. The next time, in the dead of winter, he finally spoke, promising that if she returned, he would protect her from his father and make enough money to keep her safe. 
(chapter 55) 
(chapter 1) He embodies innocence and as such lack of experiences. Moreover, he talks, makes suggestions for the champion’s sake 
(chapter 27), spent time with him, asks questions, confronts, and refuses to be reduced to a body in the room. He breaks the rule of silence. With him, Jaekyung can no longer hide behind the physical alone; he is forced to speak, to explain, to voice desires and fears. He pushes Jaekyung to engage in ways he’s spent years avoiding. In this way, Kim Dan becomes the first real threat to the system the champion built after those two curses — and possibly the first person who could prove that words can be safe again. And now, you comprehend why Joo Jaekyung was moved by the birthday card
(chapter 62) To most, it might look like a simple gesture, but for him, it was a rare and precious thing — a voice that had taken the time to shape itself into words just for him. 
(chapter 55) The “spell” to break it is not some grand external event, but the simple, sustained act of honest communication — something that has been denied to him since childhood.
(chapter 68), a kiss, a pat, a caress or by simply holding hands
. In this way, the curse that began when his voice was silenced and his hands were weaponized will only be broken when those same hands learn to speak tenderness. Look how doc Dan reacted to his public embrace: 
(chapter 71) He saw affection in the hug, but he still doubted the champion’s action. 
Until now, the design’s images have played a secondary role, yet the answer lies in a single scene from chapter 41. 
(chapter 41) Under the bright sunlight, Kim Dan reached out toward the leaves, his hand open and unguarded, as he silently thought of the man he loved. This gesture, so simple yet so revealing, became the unspoken confession that marked the start of a different kind of freedom—the freedom to feel. 
(chapter 53) The glass was an invisible barrier, offering the illusion of freedom while keeping him trapped in the moment of his unresolved trauma. The closer he stood to it, the further he was from true release, his gaze fixed outward to avoid looking inward. That’s why he had no eye in that scene: 
(chapter 55) 
(chapter 73) reveals why that reading was correct: the penthouse window is not just a symbolic device of the present — it is the direct heir of a far older image burned into his memory. Here, as a teenager, he stands before a small barred window in the room where his father’s corpse lies. The resemblance is not visual coincidence but emotional continuity. Both windows let in light without granting escape; both present the outside world as something visible yet forever out of reach.
(chapter 71)
(chapter 70) the night can also be alive, communicative, protective. In that moment, the moon becomes more than a distant light in the sky: it is a patient witness, a calm listener in the stillness, reflecting the truth he has yet to voice. 
(chapter 70) Its soft glow contrasts with the blinding glare of the cage lights, suggesting that under the moon, there is space for gentleness, for hearing one’s own heartbeat and another’s words. Just as the moon guides travelers through darkness, it can guide him toward a night that does not suffocate him with loss, but offers orientation and connection.
(chapter 60) they were his own form of therapy. In saving someone else in the night, 
(chapter 65) he could prove to himself he was not powerless, he was valuable, capable of protecting what mattered. 
, (chapter 9) as if the champion’s volatility were a quirk (the actions of a spoiled child) to be managed rather than a wound to be healed. It is because he never talked to the champion or investigated his past. It was only about money and glory. The manufactured image of the erratic, temperamental fighter served Namwook well; it excused rough handling, justified bad press, and kept Joo Jaekyung dependent. Once the Emperor can name the truth of that night, the fiction collapses — and with it, Namwook’s control. He can only be judged as a liar and even a traitor, but we know that Joo Jaekyung has a big heart. He could love his father despite the abuse. Now, the missing link is Cheolmin! 
(chapter 13) Observe that this name is a combination between Hwang Byungchul and Baek Junmin! Under this light, my avid readers can grasp why the athlete kept his existence in the dark for so long! It is because the latter belongs to his past and knows the truth behind the Emperor! He was aware of his suffering. For him, he is not just a fighter, but someone who needed FUN in his life! 
(chapter 27) Where and how did he learn swimming? Moreover, observe that he connected it to relaxation and fun. “This feels good”. This contrasts so much to the interaction between Hwang Byungchul and the little boy with the teddy bear. 
(Chapter 72) The man doesn’t know that the athlete can swim, he only knows the boxer, as he was only able to see him on TV. 
(chapter 71) Interesting is that Jinxphiles followed Kim Dan’s school career 
(chapter 47) 
(chapter 47), yet the latter can not swim! 
(Chapter 47) 
(Chapter 72) Nevertheless, with this panel, Mingwa indicates that the protagonist was visiting the Elementary school. The neighborhood he grew up in — as described by Hwang Byungchul — was “cutthroat.” 
(Chapter 60) These aren’t casual skills. They’re not the product of school curriculum or street wisdom, especially not in a neighborhood described as “cutthroat.” These are taught skills — and not by someone who saw Jaekyung merely as a fighter. Swimming and first aid reflect something else entirely: a commitment to preparedness, not just for survival, but for helping others.
(chapter 72) this unnamed figure offered a radically different message: you have value not just in your fists, but in your capacity to protect life. And contrary to Hwang Byungchul, this person stands for “shadow and humbleness” and not “spotlight or wealth”! 
(Chapter 27) That Jaekyung carries this knowledge — and uses it without hesitation — reveals a deeper emotional structure. 
(Chapter 13) His vocabulary revolves around water: “pond”, “fish”! Besides, I have already connected to him Poseidon, the god of the ocean. Moreover, this man is strongly intertwined with fun, a notion that doesn’t belong in Hwang Byungchul’s world! And now, you understand why this man could touch Joo Jaekyung’s shoulder 
(Chapter 13) He knew about the existence of the Teddy Bear inside the champion. And is it a coincidence that both men have the same name “Chul=Cheol”, though the order diverges: Cheolmin versus Byungchul? And both are connected to the color “green”. 
(chapter 72)
(chapter 60) There was no witness, no coast guard, no institutional figure involved in his rescue. He was alone, only saved by one person. His generation was expected to take responsibility — to succeed, to repay debts, to endure hardship — but they were given no tools to survive when crisis struck. They were neither protected nor prepared.
(chapter 65) So teaching him how to swim will help him to reconnect with his true self and to find a meaning to his life. 
(chapter 14) That’s how I realized that water is an element linked to childhood and as such motherhood! 
(chapter 45) And this brings me to my final thought: Kim Dan had to meet Hwang Byungchul for an important reason: to learn how to survive on his own, as he is still depressive. He is lectured how to become independent and how to find a real goal in his life. By confessing the terrible youth about the Emperor, the physical therapist gets to hear that he wasn’t the only one abandoned and in pain!! 
(chapter 72) 
(chapter 56) Moreover, he gets the opportunity to understand why “usefulness” became so important in the MMA fighter’s life. Through this confession, the other teddy bear gets to perceive that he has so many things in common with his fated partner. Both experienced abandonment, loss, poverty, bullying and only worked in their life too! They never got the opportunity to enjoy life to the fullest.
(chapter 14) For the physical therapist, this moment would later be confirmed. 
(chapter 16) —haltingly and with a trace of disbelief visible thanks to the points of suspension —as his first kiss ever. His stunned reaction and eventual admission offer a compelling lens through which to explore the symbolism of kissing in Jinx, but also the emotional landscape the two men must navigate. 
(chapter 14) If it was his first, the gesture carries a far deeper meaning than either man realizes in the moment. And if it wasn’t, then why does this kiss—with Kim Dan—resonate so differently?
(chapter 15) she showed more than the physical therapist’s confusion with the interrogation marks, she added his inner thoughts. This question (“What’s this?”) already hinted that he had never experienced a kiss before. The ambiguity of his reaction suggested that the moment was unfamiliar, and not immediately recognizable as a kiss at all. 
(chapter 30) Recognizing his face, Dan mentions that his grandmother used to watch the drama A Fine Line, and that he had seen it with her. 
(chapter 30) The author even includes a framed shot from the fictional show, depicting Heesung as the smiling son-in-law in a multigenerational family. This visual insert is subtle, but telling: it wasn’t the story that stayed with Dan, but the faces—the aesthetics of family structure and polite emotional decorum.
(chapter 16) it frightened him. The kiss broke an invisible boundary—one his upbringing had silently enforced. That’s the reason why he wasn’t sure if he could do it again.
(chapter 30) He blushes and wonders why. 
(chapter 30) It’s a telling moment: Dan isn’t used to feeling attraction and desire, let alone recognizing it. He never bought posters of celebrities, never fantasized. That world—the glamorous world of affection, attention, and beauty—was never his. 
(chapter 30) —despite already having been seen naked by Jaekyung 
(chapter 30) —suggests something deeper than modesty. When he rushes to hide his underwear and blushes merely at brushing his teeth next to someone 
(chapter 30), it becomes evident: Dan is not accustomed to physical closeness or shared domestic spaces. These are not reactions of a man with just sexual trauma—they point to someone raised without the warmth of daily intimacy.
(chapter 5) He had to take care of himself, dressed on his own. He had to act like an adult, as his role was to assist his grandmother: 
(chapter 65) This raises the possibility that someone else—most likely his mother—was his primary caregiver in early childhood. She would have changed his diapers, held him close, and kissed him gently. 
(chapter 65) This hypothesis and interpretation gets reinforced with the champion’s first kiss on his cheek 
(chapter 44) and ear 
(chapter 44) For me, without realizing it, Dan reproduced those gestures. These actions can not come from Shin Okja, as we only see her caressing or patting her grandson. The progression is striking. It moves away from eroticism (kiss from the lips) 
(chapter 44) and toward something far more intimate and protective. These are not the kisses of seduction, but of affection—almost maternal in their tone. Hence the MMA fighter got patted later: 
(chapter 44) They suggest care, comfort, and emotional presence. This is crucial, because it reveals that for Dan, a kiss is not about arousal or conquest. It is a language of love. They carry the flavor of instinct. These are the kinds of kisses a child might have once received, or given, in moments of safety and connection.
(chapter 57) (chapter 57)—licking them not out of instinct alone, but to reassure and bond. 
(chapter 57) During that summer night’s dream, Dan’s body mirrored this wordless care. That’s why he could laugh so genuinely like a child after witnessing his “pet’s reaction”. 
(chapter 14) Therefore the physical therapist astonishment, “What’s this?” was not naïve; it was disoriented. Somewhere deep within, Dan had internalized a different model of kissing: one that reflected comfort, not conquest; affection, not arousal. The kiss he received was too strange, too fierce—it violated a definition he didn’t even know he had. His body knew how to kiss, but it remembered a different type of kiss altogether. The latter stands for love and as such emotions. Under this new light, my avid readers can comprehend why the physical therapist made the following request from his fated partner: 
(chapter 15) He needed to be “warned” in order to control his “heart”. As you can see, doc Dan had an innocent definition of the kiss. Therefore it is not astonishing that the wolf’s first kiss confused him so deeply: it shattered the only blueprint he had for intimacy.
(chapter 65) with success and fortune take on a new, darker meaning. Her restraint around love and sexuality wasn’t only generational—it was strategic. She reinforced a worldview in which success, debt repayment, and self-denial were Dan’s only legitimate currencies. For her, love, on the other hand, was frivolous, indulgent, even dangerous. She only treasures the relationship between the protagonists, as such a friendship is useful. It serves her interests, that way she can still control doc Dan’s fate. In other words, she only views relationship as transactional. The smiling family in A Fine Line 
(chapter 14) Jaekyung repeated such a gesture, as seen in chapters 24
(chapter 24), and again in 64 
(chapter 64). These gestures were not expressions of tenderness, but acts of dominance, mirroring how the celebrity was taught to treat intimacy: not as an exchange, but as an imposition. His behavior echoes Cheolmin’s earlier suggestion 
(chapter 63) Fun is not the same as love, and this distinction matters deeply for someone like Kim Dan, who associates kissing with emotional safety and love, not performance or play. This explicates why he refused to be kissed in episode 63: 
(chapter 63) 
(chapter 44), Dan’s were soft, exploratory, almost reverent. His lips touched not just his lover’s mouth, but his cheek and ear—tender sites that bypass eroticism in favor of emotional intimacy. These weren’t prolonged, devouring kisses. They were pecks, small and deliberate. They mirrored affection, not possession. 
(chapter 3) —it forces the wolf to ponder on the meaning of a kiss and his relationship with the physical therapist.
In that iconic artwork, the man does not kiss the woman on the mouth, the traditional locus of erotic desire. Instead, his lips are placed upon her cheek—a gesture that suggests reverence, not possession; vulnerability, not domination.
(chapter 44) 
(chapter 45)
(chapter 54) When he was young, he had to face an abuser. Notice that the man’s face was very close to the champion’s 
(chapter 54). Thus I interpret that for the champion, the face represents not only his vulnerability, but also a source of danger. That’s the reason why he couldn’t hide his displeasure and frustration, when he faced this “lover”. 
(chapter 44) He couldn’t hide his joy by the champion’s funny reaction and laughed. And how did the protagonist react to this? Not only his face expressed his dissatisfaction, but also he silenced his partner with a kiss right away: 
(chapter 44) Joo Jaekyung is leading the kiss, he is regaining control over their relationship. It reinforces the idea that the wolf’s kiss was not merely about passion, but about reclaiming dominance and halting a shift in power. Just moments earlier, Kim Dan’s laughter had opened a space of emotional intimacy and lightness, which the champion was not prepared to face. The kiss, now prolonged and intensified, becomes the sportsman’s way of reasserting control over a situation that was slipping into unfamiliar emotional territory.
(chapter 45) wasn’t just the pain he might have inflicted—it was the realization that the balance of power had subtly shifted. The man who had always dictated the terms of their relationship had surrendered to something unfamiliar: tenderness, emotional closeness, and shared desire. The fact that Kim Dan initiated affection, even kissed him voluntarily, shattered Jaekyung’s script. For someone who conflated feelings with threat, and dominance with safety, this reversal was unbearable.
(chapter 45) —and that he, in turn, had wanted Dan back. This terrified him more than any bruise ever could.
(chapter 37), and kissing becomes his emotional brake pedal. It’s not simply an act of love, but a means to regulate, or even drown out, what he cannot yet name or accept: that he is being loved. It is not random that I included the scene from episode 37: he heard laughs from the other room. For him, such a noise must have sounded like a disrespect and mockery, triggering his past trauma. And he was not entirely wrong in the sense that they were eating behind his back 
(chapter 37) It was, as if they were mocking him because of his forced “diet”. No wonder why the champion is barely seen laughing and prefers seriousness. At the same time, I can grasp why the athlete feels close to Park Namwook, as the latter stands for these exact notions: work, money and seriousness. Fun is not part of his world and vocabulary, therefore he punished Joo Jaekyung for sparring with doc Dan.
(chapter 2) Though his face was close to the star’s, he didn’t attempt to kiss him. In fact, he proposed him a fellatio, a sign that the champion had never allowed anyone to get close to his “face”. Finally, observe how he reacted, when the uke in episode 55 attempted to kiss him: 
(chapter 55) Not only he rejected him, but also he pushed him violently so that the latter was on the floor. 
(chapter 55) The celebrity even ran away: a sign that the allowing someone approaching his face is perceived as something uncomfortable and threatening. At the same time, that moment exposes the kiss as something sacred—one that cannot be duplicated without emotional violation. This shows that for the champion, the meaning of a smooch has evolved. It is no longer perceived as a source of fun and a mean to gain something.
(chapter 55) He couldn’t forget doc Dan’s face, the latter excited him, a sign that for the champion, the face in general has been a source of pain, yet thanks to doc Dan, the latter has become a source of “comfort and joy”. 
(chapter 66) When he saw his face for the first time, he didn’t realize that he was already under the hamster’s spell. Striking is that he even focused on his chin and lips, a sign that he desired to kiss them. One thing is sure. The champion treasured the doctor’s face. After their separation, it is not surprising that the wolf felt the need to see his face. 
(chapter 39) before requesting a fellatio: 
(chapter 39) The main lead’s head was very close to the champion’s face, thus he must have felt uncomfortable. Secondly by acting this way, the doctor was gradually gaining power over their relationship. For the wolf, dominance is everything, an indication that in his past he felt defenseless and weak. His “opponent”, the mysterious ghost, had the upper hand. Moreover, the fellatio created a distance between them, where the fighter could expose his superiority. And note how doc Dan behaved under the influence of the drug: 
(chapter 39) He caught his fated partner by surprise, when he suddenly kissed him, mirroring the champion’s past behavior. This panel corroborates that for the doctor, a kiss is the symbol of love. The champion was not happy with this kiss too, for the latter meant that he was no longer controlling their relationship. Yet, after hearing the doctor’s confession during that night, the athlete no longer resisted his partner’s kisses. 
(chapter 39) For the first time, he accepted Dan’s initiative—both physically and emotionally. Compare it to his attitude before: 
(chapter 39) here, he still has his eyes wide open, a sign of vigilance. These kisses from doc Dan 
(chapter 39) mark a turning point in Jaekyung’s arc: he begins to lower his defenses, allowing Dan not only into his personal space but also into a position of gentle agency within their relationship. The kiss no longer represents a threat; it becomes an opening and a sign of trust. 
(chapter 55) These memories represent the moment where the athlete felt strong and had the upper hand in their relationship. These images reveal that Joo Jaekyung hasn’t realized the signification of the kiss yet. For him, they don’t seem important. This exposes that the athlete has not associated kiss with love and affection yet. At the same time, we have to envision that a smooch is strongly intertwined with equity and trust. 
(chapter 28) And in episode 14, it was clear that the star still felt superior to his companion, therefore the kiss had no special meaning. As you can see, everything is pointing out that Joo Jaekyung had never been kissed before. And what does a kiss symbolize? Not only attachment, but also purity and innocence. 
(chapter 42) According to him, doc Dan was not different from him. However, he was wrong. It is because the champion had kissed him!! Moreover, the celebrity had allowed doc Dan to kiss him as well. Besides, how did the champion name his past lovers? They were toys… normally people don’t kiss playthings. And now, imagine that doc Dan were to discover that Joo Jaekyung had his first kiss with him. This revelation would not only make him realize that Joo Jaekyung loves him, but also he could be wondering why the athlete had never done such a thing before, though he had past lovers. YES, the “first kiss” could be the trigger for both characters to question their respective past and perceive their fated partner correctly. 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 3), based on Dan’s vague claim of prior partners. Yet Dan has never kissed anyone before. The kiss becomes his true moment of loss, a quiet confession through action. Conversely, Jaekyung’s own discomfort shows that he, too, is untouched in this particular way. When Dan tries to kiss Jaekyung again, and he instinctively rejects it, it reveals just how unprepared he is for affection. They are both unaware that the other is emotionally “pure” in this regard, and that makes the kiss a shared revelation.
(chapter 67), Jaekyung must reinvent his approach. He cannot rely on dominance, strength, or sexual performance to win Dan’s heart. If he wants true connection, he must learn a new language—one built on gestures of affection, softness, and presence. This process also involves separating his public persona from his private longing. Joo Jaekyung, the champion, cannot seduce with spectacle. But Jaegeng, the man, might learn to express love through a simple touch, or a well-timed kiss. The redefinition of seduction is not just about Dan’s healing; it is about the wolf’s reclaiming his own right to feel and give love. And in my opinion, that process has already started: 
(chapter 69) That moment was devoid of lust, stripped of performance, and free from power dynamics. Jaekyung didn’t lean in for a kiss; he didn’t touch Dan’s lips or body with any sexual intent. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the physical therapist in silent reassurance, tucking his face against Dan’s shoulder as though hiding from the world. This was not a champion claiming a prize—it was a man expressing affection. The embrace exposes that doc Dan belongs to his “world” and he trusts him. In this light, the embrace becomes a prelude to a kiss—not a literal one, but an emotional kiss: a meeting place of vulnerability and longing.
(chapter 65) nor his past partners provided him with genuine and affectionate touch, Jaekyung must look elsewhere. 
(chapter 29: note that he did not select this scene to rekindle with the doctor, but the other scene) He will learn it from life, from watching how the innocent express care without shame or purpose.
(chapter 27) In Jaekyung’s past, laughter had been a weapon—an expression of ridicule and cruelty from an abuser. 
(chapter 47) and denial for strength 
(chapter 61), Park Namwook 
(chapter 53) all operate within survival mechanisms shaped by trauma, guilt, and fear. They choose the illusion of control or calm over genuine healing. But as the story unfolds, these strategies begin to unravel. Each character must confront the truth behind their emotional habits, learning that happiness isn’t the absence of pain—it’s the result of confronting it with clarity and purpose. 
(chapter 34) 
(chapter 1) Thus for the first time, Jaekyung had to develop a new strategy in order to meet him again: one that doesn’t rely on intimidation, but on communication. The problem is that since he saw the physical therapist running away after their first session 
(chapter 1), he knew that he needed to lure him with something: money 
(chapter 1). Under this new light, my avid readers can grasp why the athlete played a trick on the phone, though we have to envision that here the celebrity’s thoughts were strongly influenced by his bias and prejudices. He imagined that Doc Dan had made a move on him.
(chapter 5) That retreat doesn’t mean failure—it can be an act of self-preservation. However, the champion experienced that he needed to speak with doc Dan in order to keep him by his side. This lesson became a turning point. Jaekyung started to speak more. 
(chapter 18) Therefore it is no coincidence that in episode 18, right after the celebrity spoke, Kim Dan’s reply was strongly intertwined with flight: 
(chapter 18) The denial of kindness from the champion made the doctor uncomfortable, the latter felt the need to leave the penthouse as soon as possible. The lesson for the star was to realize that words are powerful and can affect people. But Joo Jaekyung didn’t grasp it, as he chose to use sex to „submit“ his fated partner. 
(Chapter 18) Nevertheless, as time passes on, the wolf asks more and more questions. He reacts to emotional discomfort not only with physicality but with hesitation, introspection. He is no longer reacting as the ghost once taught him; he is arguing and as such adapting, growing. Thus we could say, he is less passive.
(chapter 3) or table, in showers 
(chapter 7), against doors, or walls 
(chapter 34). On the surface, it may seem like a gesture of dominance or desire, but symbolically, it reflects silencing.
(chapter 51) They stand in the middle of the room—an open space—symbolizing emotional emancipation. When Dan questions the celebrity 
(chapter 51), the words from doc Dan pierce the champion’s emotional defenses. Thus Joo Jaekyung is destabilized. 
(chapter 51). The latter tries to reassert control 
(chapter 51), but this time, when he lashes out, he is the one who leaves. This is cognitive dissonance at work: the fighter cannot reconcile his fear of vulnerability with his emerging need for connection and his perfectionism. So he defaults to a performance of control, even as he runs from it. And while one might mistake this for weakness or regression, it actually displays a progression. First, Jaekyung had finally revealed his thoughts and fears to Dan. 
(chapter 51) Secondly, he left the place which was a new MO for the fighter. His act of fleeing is no longer an escape from confrontation —it follows a moment of emotional vulnerability. It shows that he had finally dared to speak, even if he wasn’t yet ready to stay and endure the emotional aftermath.
(chapter 69) That silence could easily be mistaken for submission, for the same old performance of the compliant athlete. 
(chapter 69) But that would be a misreading. His silence is no longer a symptom of fear or control. It is a deliberate withholding—a sign that he no longer plays by their emotional rules. He is starting distancing himself from MFC, Park Namwook and the fight-centered identity they crafted for him.
(chapter 69) After all, to those still invested in dominance hierarchies, leaving the capital after a public defeat seems like the behavior of someone who’s been defeated mentally as well. But the truth is the opposite. This “retreat” is actually an act of autonomy. For the first time, Jaekyung is giving himself space—not to run, but to reflect. 
(chapter 69) He is no longer blindly performing the role of the fighter, nor desperately trying to maintain control over the narrative. 
(chapter 69) He is beginning to think critically about his past behavior, his future, and the systems that have defined his identity and life.
(chapter 69) with “no audience” (he ignores people), no pressure, no script. And in that openness, he lets go—not just physically, but psychologically. 
(chapter 7) and flight 
(chapter 36), or MFC’s decisions. 
(chapter 25: here the protagonist was replacing Yosep and Park Namwook), hires professionals to manage damage 
(chapter 66) But he never takes full responsibility. This blame-displacement strategy works—until the champion flees to the West Coast. 
(chapter 66) that cornered the manager. 
(chapter 66) As long as the champion was nearby, Park Namwook could project blame onto him, framing him as unstable, disobedient, or temperamental. But once „his boy“ vanished from Seoul, the hyung was left exposed. Striking is that he is not seen watching over the training of the remaining members. 
(chapter 60) 
(chapter 60), a sign that he is neglecting the other members. The absence of his star fighter removed his most convenient scapegoat, forcing him to face the consequences of his own mismanagement—though he is not yet ready to truly question it and change his mindset, denial, and dependency. This was not just a geographical disappearance—it was a strategic psychological rupture, meant to destabilize Park’s illusion of authority.
(chapter 57) Secondly, the vanishing of his parents were also swept under the carpet. That’s how he internalized powerlessness. Fleeing 
(chapter 1), deflecting, and disappearing became natural. With the grandmother, with doctors 
(chapter 1), with institutions—he obeyed. He accepted his fate as a fatality. But with Jaekyung, a new pattern emerged. Slowly, he began to resist: he set boundaries, raised his voice, argued with his boss, even used physical gestures to assert himself. 
(chapter 7) For a moment, he was fighting.
(chapter 67) Moreover, in contrast to Season 1, Kim Dan is no longer the invisible caregiver or obedient grandson. Thanks to Joo Jaekyung’s presence—disruptive and painful as it was—he began to form an independent identity
(chapter 57), one no longer shaped entirely by duty or guilt. The grandmother, however, is blind to this change. She continues to speak to him as if he’s the same self-sacrificing boy 
(chapter 57) —it is a rejection of the belief that he exists only to serve. In Season 2, Dan says “no” repeatedly:
(chapter 60) 
(chapter 67)
(chapter 58) 
(chapter 57)
(chapter 53) Unlike Park Namwook who uses blame and delegation in professional settings, she applies emotional avoidance in private and familial spaces. Much like the manager, she outsources responsibility, asking others to step in 
(chapter 53) 
(chapter 65) Her silence is not protective—it is evasive.
(chapter 5) Her illness becomes a metaphor for her mindset. She relies on external systems: her grandson 
(chapter 7), medication, comfort 
(chapter 21), and other people (nurse, Joo Jaekyung) —to maintain her emotional balance. But as doc Dan himself once observed, she is ultimately on her own in her battle. No system can fight it for her.
(chapter 7) His grandmother was not truly abandoned; she simply equated his physical absence with neglect, ignoring the emotional and financial burden he already carried. Like Park Namwook, she prefers others to carry the discomfort while maintaining a façade of suffering and sacrifice. 
(chapter 65)
(chapter 47) , and her narrative of selflessness becomes another form of emotional pressure. She does not yell, she does not accuse directly, but her avoidance is equally powerful in shaping Dan’s self-image as a burden. Doc Dan came to internalize that she suffered because of him.
(chapter 65), protected, comforted. Surrounded by nurses, medication, and routine, she finds temporary peace in an environment that simulates safety. The hospice does not cure her illness, but it cushions it. This illusion allows her to smile again, to relax—but only up to a point. Kim Dan’s gradual deterioration 
(chapter 57) —his visible exhaustion, disconnection, and quiet suffering—becomes a thorn in her eye, a reminder that her peace is not whole. As long as he suffers, she cannot entirely escape the shadow of her own regrets. Sending him away to Seoul represents a new of flight. Out of sight means out of mind. That way the grandmother wouldn‘t have to worry about doc Dan, as he has been entrusted to the athlete. 
(chapter 163) and supported by the article on confirmation bias, human survival was deeply dependent on mental shortcuts. Biases were not flaws, but adaptive tools — heuristics that helped our ancestors make quick decisions under threat. Faced with a potential predator, they could not afford the luxury of curiosity or debate. Run first, think later. 
(chapter 163) In this sense, biases were effective precisely because they increased the chance of survival.
(chapter 41) he recommends the opposite at the restaurant because the idea comes from the CEO! 
(chapter 65) It was her decision to settle down at the hospice. 
(chapter 67) His survival bias told him: “Don’t trust a man who once treated you violently.” or “Doctors are ignorant, they don’t know me“. It was easier to discredit the source than to weigh the merit of the message. Likewise, in Season 1, the champion dismissed doc Dan’s medical opinions 
(chapter 65) or a support network. It is not her fault, if she never met doc Dan’s friends in the past while hiding the fact that he had been bullied by his peers. Her request for him to return to Seoul, a place he has no roots, only furthers his habit of isolation. Similarly, when she asked Jaekyung to bring him to Seoul and have him diagnosed, she implicitly discouraged any shared decision-making. Like Park Namwook, she bypassed dialogue in favor of directive control, reinforcing the habit of emotional withdrawal.
(chapter 67) That shift marks a turning point from survival to conscious thought. The mind cannot reflect when it believes it is under attack. The tragedy is not that these characters are irrational — it’s that they were taught fear before they were taught trust. Thus I come to the following conclusion. As soon as both are curious about each other 
(chapter 69), they are now free from their bias and prejudices. 
(chapter 69). For the first time in this story, we as readers were allowed to hear Joo Jaekyung’s heart 
— not in battle, not in passion, not in rage — but in that suspended instant when he imagined Kim Dan missing, possibly forever. Since the author linked the BADUM with doc Dan 
(chapter 69) 
(chapter 69), she created the illusion that the physical therapist was embodying the MMA fighter’s heart. This scene resonated with me long after I closed the chapter.
(chapter 69) Suddenly, the pieces clicked: the heartbeat in Jinx is not just a narrative sound effect. 
(chapter 14)— yet no heartbeat is heard. One might think, the absence of the heart racing implies the lack of fear. His emotions are real, but they do not connect him to life or to others. Why?
(chapter 14) — GUOOO, metal dented, yet no pain. Yet, Jinx-philes can see Badum Badum in that picture. Nevertheless it is connected to the physical therapist’s heart: he is scared of the athlete’s strength. On the surface, the champion’s gesture appears reckless — an act of a man who does not care for his body. But this is not pure “fearlessness.” In truth, the celebrity’s anger is masking deeper fear and suffering.
(chapter 44) BADUM BADUM from Kim Dan’s heart as Jaekyung makes a move on him. His blushing face, wide eyes, and parted lips all signal that this is not fear — it is love, excitement, and emerging attachment. 
(chapter 44) and tried new things. He gave his lover pecks on his cheeks and ear 
(chapter 45) He chose silence, unable yet to confess what that heartbeat had awakened.
(chapter 34), we see the actor’s confidence gradually vanishing. His mask begins to crack. In that moment, he realizes that in the VIP spa his celebrity status offers no protection. No manager, no Park Namwook, no audience is present. He is utterly exposed to the raw force of the champion’s anger and fist — and the physical threat is real.
(chapter 34) The confrontation repeats — Jaekyung threatens once more. Yet, there is no visible BADUM, BADUM here. Why? Don’t forget that just before, the actor gulped and blushed 
(chapter 34) — a clear sign of excitement, not fear. And still, his heart remains silent. This raises the question. Why was the actor not afraid of the MMA fighter? Because even if the words echo the previous threat, the perceived danger has changed. With doc Dan standing between them 
(chapter 34), the actor subconsciously knows: “He will not attack me here.” The champion made it clear that the physical therapist shouldn’t detect the actor’s presence. Doc Dan acts as an emotional shield, preventing true panic. The body no longer signals mortal danger — and so, no BADUM sounds.
(chapter 43) Here, the doctor feared the celebrity’s rejection. This scene was actually announcing that doc Dan was already in love with the “wolf”. 
(chapter 21) — a sound of comfort and life. But it was a distant memory, not part of his adult world.
(chapter 21) — having a nightmare. It is only when the grandmother returned to the bed and began to sing that his body calmed. 
(chapter 21)
(chapter 21) — one that later echoes in his adult struggles with attachment and loss.
(chapter 58) — vibrant, alive. But Dan sits apart. He is disconnected — his inner state does not resonate with the music. At that moment, he is preparing to abandon Jaekyung.
(chapter 58) “I am happy and at ease, but… why does my heart feel so heavy?” — it is as if the external music has replaced his internal rhythm. The joyous sound outside contrasts painfully with his own muted emotions. The music underscores his emotional disconnection and the inner weight he carries.
(chapter 65) finds his way back to the man he cares for.
(chapter 65) is more than noise. It’s a resonant signal — not unlike the heartbeat. When she barks, it alerts Jaekyung to Dan’s trance. 
(Chapter 65) Moreover, the dog is capable of expressing her „worries and pain“. And for the first time, the champion follows a sound not of the crowd, not of a bell, but of life calling to life. 
(Chapter 65) Her bark anchors him, just as Dan once did. And it marks the moment Jaekyung becomes emotionally receptive not only to Dan, but to care itself — puppies, vulnerability, connection. In other words, her presence foreshadows Jaekyung’s emotional readiness to care for others beyond the ring. Having rediscovered and embraced his own vulnerability, his heart is gradually open to softness — to animals, to dependency, to affection.
(chapter 58) During the happy party with the actor and Potato, Dan remembers his past lover — and we see the champion’s image under a black-and-white veil. It was, as if the sun was vanishing from his life. In that moment, Dan decided to detach himself from Jaekyung, to forget him. The champion is emotionally “dead” — unreachable, lost to him.
(chapter 59), the reality is that work has long lost its meaning. He has no goal in his life in the end. The emotional gravity of his loss regarding Jaekyung is palpable, though the physical therapist is not realizing it. Jinx-philes should keep in their mind that in season 1, the protagonist used his grandmother as a shield to justify his transactional relationship with the celebrity — and here, perhaps again, she becomes a cover for deeper pain.
(chapter 69) 
(chapter 69) His body speaks what the panel leaves unsaid — a visceral resonance of surprise, longing, and fragile hope.
(chapter 45), his heart raced. But he mistook this for irritation 
(chapter 45) — not attachment. That is why he threatened to hire another doctor the next morning: he feared dependency and as such vulnerability. 
(chapter 45)
(chapter 55) In his mind, people leave — they live elsewhere — life goes on. He never imagined irretrievable loss.
(chapter 29) moving through the world, but without true inner life. Hence his eyes were “empty”. 
(chapter 26) 
(chapter 67), Jaekyung could only remain silent. 
(chapter 67) He could not yet admit his worries, his vulnerabilities — not even to himself. To confess would be to risk blackmail, to risk being seen again as that helpless child. 
(chapter 65)
(chapter 64), and the language of touch—their dynamic undergoes a profound shift. This moment is not just about desire but about power, communication, and the fight for control. It is in this intimate space that both men are confronted with their vulnerabilities 
(chapter 64) and the evolving nature of their relationship. During this lavender-tinted night, their intimacy is no longer just a matter of physicality—it becomes a language of contradictions. Through grasping, biting, and kissing, their touch oscillates between control and vulnerability, rejection and longing. This moment encapsulates the shifting power dynamics between them, where Jaekyung’s physical presence no longer guarantees submission 
(chapter 64), and Kim Dan begins to push back, not with force, but with emotional detachment. He avoids his gaze, hides his moaning and as such remains silent. This night is a pivotal moment, signaling the champion’s awakening to his emotions and Kim Dan’s assertion of his autonomy. 
(chapter 63) it is a stark contrast to the usual aggressive or mechanical physicality of their past encounters. Let’s not forget that when the athlete kissed the doctor for the first time 
(chapter 14) in the locker room, he not only used his hand 
(chapter 14) This comparison outlines that their first kiss was more the result of conscious and tactical decisions than of passion and desire. It was not only to protect the hamster’s life, but also to be able to fight against Randy Booker. In other words, their first kiss was strongly intertwined with work and absence of consent. He had not informed Doc Dan before.
(chapter 63), until the latter finally opened his mouth. This gesture reminded me of a wolf licking his progeniture in order to show affection. My avid readers will certainly recall my analysis of their “love session” at the penthouse in Episode 44: there were traces of “animalistic behavior” 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 63) represented the next step of his “generosity”. Yet, the divergence is that the star had done the French Kiss by instincts, whereas the fellatio was more a calculated move. He selected this new approach based on his own likes and experiences. In other words, this magical night represents the birth of a “lover” and “boyfriend”. 
(chapter 62) The celebrity could do anything he wanted. In other words, he had clearly giving him his consent to be kissed and the doctor could not refuse as such. 
(chapter 63) It is clear that Kim Dan had anticipated a different approach: a renewal of their First wedding night. The irony is that the French kiss and the fellatio became the evidence that the star was not treating the doctor as a doll per se. Why? The star has changed a lot due to the main lead’s influence. He had gained knowledge and confidence. Nevertheless, their interaction here forces a confrontation not just between them, but within themselves—Jaekyung, who has always relied on physical dominance to maintain control, is confronted with a newfound uncertainty, while Kim Dan, whose silence once reinforced Jaekyung’s belief in his own power, now wields that same silence as a weapon.
(chapter 61) or exhaustion—has his tongue metaphorically freed by this act. 
(chapter 63) The significance of this kiss becomes evident when, later that night, he finally speaks up, voicing everything he has suppressed. 
(chapter 64) It is, as though Jaekyung has unknowingly opened a door within the hamster. Yet, despite this newfound ability to speak, Kim Dan still bites his lip at times, revealing his continued hesitation. He is not yet ready to embrace vulnerability fully, but this moment marks the beginning of that journey.
(chapter 64), the scent in the air 
(as seen through the presence of scent sticks in the background), and the vision and sensation of the man beneath him. Unlike the previous intimate moment in Chapter 44, where he was inebriated, this time he is conscious. 
(chapter 64) This is the rebirth of Jaekyung—not as the infallible champion but as a man experiencing intimacy in a new way.
(chapter 64) It indicates that the star was actually revealing his attraction toward his companion. We could say that with this attitude, he was gradually lowering his guard. But there’s more to it. Just before he “was going to finish inside”, he chose to kiss his partner. 
(chapter 64) This privileged position indicates that the main lead was not ready to face Kim Dan’s gaze during an orgasm. In other words, he had not entirely lowered his guard in front of the doctor. The reason is simple. While he was giving pleasure to his partner, this is what he was forced to see: 
(chapter 64) rejection, anger and resentment. This was not a gaze full of love, the remains from the “surrogate fights”. His facial expression was reminding him that his fated partner was more a prostitute than a lover, for he saw this sex session not as a source of pleasure. That’s why he thought like this: 
(chapter 64) Under this new light, I deduce that the champion was not aware of the true motivations behind his actions. He was actually longing for the doctor’s love and embrace. 
(chapter 64) His act of biting his lips in Chapter 64 is not just a nervous tic; it expresses not only physical manifestation of his restraint, but also his suicidal tendencies. He doesn’t mind hurting himself. This shows that he still doesn’t value and treasure his own body.
(chapter 64) The lip bite signifies hesitation but also resistance. It reflects his internal struggle: he does not want to engage, but something within him still reacts. He still has feelings for the athlete. This small gesture encapsulates his frustration—not just with Jaekyung, but with himself.
(chapter 57) and overworks himself. That’s the reason why I couldn’t truly rejoice when Kim Dan rejected the champion. In fact, he selected work and pain over “joy and pleasure”. And why? Because of the past and the athlete’s actions.
(chapter 64) Further by licking his lip, he is acting like his doctor and guardian. But there’s more to it. Observe the comment from the champion: he was holding back. This means that by biting his lips, the doctor reminded Joo Jaekyung of his own weak constitution. Thus I interpret that the champion came to associate the kiss with vulnerability and affection. 
(chapter 15) and touches were purely acts of dominance—ways to assert ownership over Kim Dan. However, the ear lick, which almost looks like a bite, in Chapter 64 carries a different weight. 
(chapter 64) He refused to see and listen to others and to the athlete, because he was trying to deny the existence of his love. The reason is simple. He is trapped in his own world, full of darkness. He was trying to clinch onto the past, where he portrayed himself as a victim and doll of the champion. But the reality is that doc Dan treated himself as a doll or servant, for he didn’t value his own body. Hence he didn’t eat properly and drank soju to drown his pain. 
(chapter 5) This is a habit he had before he met Joo Jaekyung. Moreover the latter was living in abstinence, until he drank alcohol by mistake because of him.
(chapter 24) of Season 1. Instead, there is waiting and hesitation, an unspoken question in the way he leans in. For the first time, it seems as though he is searching for something more—perhaps a response, a reciprocation, or even just an acknowledgment from Kim Dan. This shift underscores Jaekyung’s internal transformation; he is gradually internalizing Kim Dan’s values and beginning to approach intimacy differently, even if he himself is not yet fully aware of it.
(chapter 64). He thought, using strength could still help him to conquer Kim Dan’s heart, though it is just an unconscious attempt. 
(chapter 8) 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 61) That’s the reason why during this lavender-tinted night, Mingwa used reflections of all sex sessions from season 1. Let’s not forget that Joo Jaekyung was never seen cleaning up “the mess” he made. Doc Dan had to clean himself, which is the reason why he made the following request: 
(chapter 29) Not washing his partner implies his refusal of becoming responsible. The problem is that since it was a first for him, he has no idea about its true meaning. Besides, due to his own traumas and fears, he didn’t pay attention to his PT’s emotions and well-being. Striking is that Joo Jaekyung compared himself to fire during that night. 
(chapter 63) And what is the opposite to fire? WATER!! Thus this image came to my mind. How do you kill desires and passion? One might say by becoming ice-cold! However, my answer is this: by pouring a glass of cold water on the champion’s face! Yes… 
(chapter 37) This means that Joo Jaekyung is getting punished for this gesture. Let’s not forget that he mentioned their stay in the States to bring back good memories. But I have another reference for this interpretation. 
(chapter 64) This panel is a reflection from that particular day: 
(chapter 27) And where did he go to calm down? In the swimming pool… 
(chapter 27) And now, you comprehend why I came to see this scene 
(chapter 57). Similarly, when Joo Jaekyung faced his opponent Randy Booker, he was also verbally harassed 
(chapter 49) the surface shows two athletes seemingly engaged in a normal, even friendly interaction – they are shaking hands -, while the panels reveal a darker undercurrent of verbal harassment and manipulation. 
(Chapter 49) 
(chapter 61), while Joo Jaekyung represses his emotions and thoughts through “physical activities”. 
(chapter 55) This essay will explore how their experiences in the restroom space serve as a mirror to their past and reveal the psychological scars that shape their behaviors.
(chapter 38) 
(chapter 47) However, in Season 2, the lavatory appears isolated for the first time, reinforcing a shift in symbolic meaning. This distinction helps to explain why restrooms (toilets/water closets) hold different meanings for the two protagonists. [for more read 
(chapter 19) —a space where one is free to confront their inner selves without external pressures. In Jinx, the use of the restroom emphasizes the external pressures and the characters’ reactions to their environments, reinforcing their struggles with exposure and control. But how did I come to this realization?
(chapter 61) The wolf reminded me of a stalker. 
(chapter 34), vulnerabilities are exposed, and participants are pushed to their limits. In the essay 
(chapter 33) This would explain why Heesung was determined to hide the physical therapist’s whereabouts. 
(chapter 58) He saw in him a bully and even a stalker. His judgment was based on these two incidents: 
(chapter 58) He imagined that Kim Dan had been coerced to it, while the physical therapist always had the choice to refuse. Joo Jaekyung would never hurt the doctor. 
(chapter 59) The imminent death of his grandmother triggered his repressed fears.
(chapter 60) He tracks him down, calls him repeatedly 
(chapter 61) Deep down, he wants to be part of his life. Hence he moves next to Kim Dan’s house as his final attempt. 
(chapter 61) To Jaekyung, dominance and control are how relationships function, yet due to the doctor’s silent treatment, he is incited to change his approach. But to Kim Dan, these actions trigger memories of past tormentors, reviving the very feelings that once sent him running to the restroom for solace. The same space that shielded him as a child now becomes his only escape from Jaekyung. 
(chapter 57) and cornered, leading him to associate confined spaces with protection. The restroom was his only escape from ridicule, his sanctuary where he could momentarily regain control. This explains why he went crying there, when he heard the terrible news about his grandmother. 
(chapter 61) Since he can not escape the champion, he decides to ignore him. 
(chapter 55) – the mirror is very low -, Kim Dan retreats into memories to rationalize his pain. Instead of processing his suffering, he shifts blame to Jaekyung, using the restroom space to wall himself off emotionally. The restroom in Jinx thus acts as a metaphor for entrapment—whether through self-isolation or forced exposure, neither character is truly free from their past. 
(chapter 38) So he could faint there or hurt himself and he would have no one by his side. Don’t forget that this place stands for seclusion and privacy. 
(chapter 57), it is clear that the kids were not thinking of sex or using the restroom to assault the little boy. However, we should question ourselves how this rumor about Kim Dan being an orphan started. 
(chapter 54) bears a striking resemblance to this boy, leading to the possibility that this new character could be Kim Dan’s childhood bully. Given Jinx’s themes of positive psychology and confronting past demons, it is plausible that Kim Dan will encounter this schoolmate again. Such an interaction could force Kim Dan to address his unresolved trauma and reexamine his perceptions of strength and vulnerability. Moreover, don’t forget that the doctor in green saw the champion in a terrible shape who had admitted that he had drunk the night before. 
(chapter 61) I sense some retaliation here. 
(chapter 08) It is because in his mind, this place is associated with toilets in general. That’s how it dawned on me that the athlete could have been harassed at school, but contrary to the physical therapist, it took place later. The leader was Baek Junmin who hid behind the “mob”. 
(chapter 49) People could discern his true personality: he was nothing more than a thug. Moreover, he would be perceived as a cheater, because he used others and his seniority to torment a child or teenager. At the same time, since Joo Jaekyung became a victim of bully later, the content about the mobbing should have been different. I am suspecting that he could have been targeted because of his homosexuality. 
(Chapter 14) 
(chapter 55), he showed no reaction. In fact, his headache got even worse than before. 
(chapter 55) The champion’s passivity and migraine could be the symptoms of the athlete’s past suffering. His pain worsened in that place because of the past, but he didn’t realize it, for he was so focused on his soulmate. Secondly, the moment he was about to get kissed 
(chapter 61) In my opinion, the departure of Kim Dan forced the champion to be confronted with his repressed past. 
(chapter 54) While he calls his former rival and tormentor’s name and recollects his beating, he is not plagued with a migraine. This means that the real cause for Joo Jaekyung’s suffering (his headache linked to his repressed memories) is triggered by the attitude of his guardian. That’s the reason why he had a nightmare with the ghost of the past. 
(Episode 60). Both moments carry significant emotional weight but reflect different facets of their dynamic, from selfishness to selflessness, secrecy to openness, and miscommunication to recognition. The setting and circumstances surrounding these kisses not only highlight the characters’ growth but also underscore the unresolved struggles they face.
(chapter 14), only snapping back to reality when he felt Kim Dan’s body trembling. 
(chapter 14) This moment of realization, coupled with the doctor’s tears and plea 
(chapter 14), served as the trigger for Joo Jaekyung to recall Cheolmin’s recommendation 
(chapter 16) Moreover, he never wondered why Joo Jaekyung had asked for sex in the locker room, which represented a change in his behavior. If he had done it before, then he would have forced the physical therapist to travel with him to Busan. 
(chapter 13) As you can see, through the comparison with the kiss on the beach, I realized the doctor’s passivity and lack of critical thinking in season 1. He never asked why the athlete was so rough during sex. He took this for a normality. His attitude exposed the doctor’s biased perception of his boss: a spoiled and rough man obsessed with sex. I would even add that the kiss had a positive effect on the protagonist 
(chapter 15), the physical therapist omitted something important in the locker room. First, he didn’t share all his thoughts about the athlete, in particular his prejudices. Finally, he should have talked about his behavior before the kiss. What was he thinking, when he was having sex with him? In verity, he had been used as a substitute. In other words, the champion’s selfishness was rubbing on the doctor. Both were selfish, both had their heart and mind closed. And this remark brings me to the kiss on the beach. 
(chapter 15), a confined space symbolizing Joo Jaekyung’s need to keep his relationships private. Picking up partners at a VIP club 
(chapter 33) was another extension of his desire to maintain secrecy. By contrast, the beach in Episode 60 is a public, open space, reflecting a significant shift. 
(chapter 60) Moreover, in the past, the locker room 
(chapter 14) even excluding Park Namwook, who was even seen before stationed outside the bathroom door, 
(chapter 14) This shift highlights the increasing importance of Kim Dan in Joo Jaekyung’s personal sphere. Interestingly, this progression is contrasted by Episode 49, where Joo Jaekyung deliberately ensured 
(chapter 49) he was not left alone with Kim Dan. This means that this place was no longer the synonym for privacy and secret. This reflects why director Choi could intrude with his minions. Following the incident with the switched spray, Kim Dan was left behind 
(chapter 50) in the locker room twice 
(chapter 51), which could only increase the physical therapist’s feelings that he didn’t belong to Team Black. He was not part of that “family”. And this coincides with the moment where Kim Dan cries for the last time: 
(chapter 51) From that moment on, the main lead won’t show his vulnerability and pain to others. This gesture announces the return of his “blue friend”, the depression. 
(chapter 47) And now, you are wondering how this is relevant to the scene on the beach. Joo Jaekyung got shocked and scared, but he didn’t cry later and it is the same for Kim Dan. Hence the latter could deny his presence on the beach and even ignore the athlete’s words: 
(chapter 60) The absence of tears or a trembling body from the main leads indicate that both are hiding their emotions from each other. 
(chapter 60) 
(chapter 51), his lack of loyalty, his greed and obsession for money. 
(chapter 51) Though the champion was restraining himself, he didn’t realize that his words were like punches to Kim Dan. The latter got to hear what he didn’t know. 
(chapter 52) The conversation in the locker room symbolically announced the champion’s private struggles to the media, as his bad temper was made public shortly after. 
(chapter 15) , representing his need for mental and emotional support, which his team and entourage failed to provide. While the CPR kiss could be dismissed as a rescue, it symbolically represents a step toward Joo Jaekyung revealing his true self. The kiss marks a moment where he unconsciously begins to acknowledge his feelings and his homosexuality, even in a setting where others could witness it.
(chapter 60) was surrounded by nature. Hence they could show their true self: their exhaustion, desire and emotions. While the doctor was suicidal due to his depression and fatigue, the champion’s worries were genuine. Yet Kim Dan was not able to hear them. 
(chapter 60) This means that on the beach, Kim Dan could only detect one thing: Joo Jaekyung’s presence. But he didn’t sense his kisses and hear his words. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that this scene stands under the sign of “dream and illusion”. 
(chapter 60) Hence he came to reject his “intervention” as a lie and deception. The reality is that Joo Jaekyung does care for him, but he doesn’t know how to show it. He fears attachment. Because of his misjudgement, Kim Dan is not capable to notice the transformation in his former boss. 
(chapter 49) His muscles are less pronounced. He is also wasting away. 
(chapter 60) reinforce control and suppression. In the locker room, the absence of time and space to relax or meditate highlighted the pressures placed on Joo Jaekyung by his manager and coach 
(chapter 49), who believed that physical strength alone would solve his problems. This environment denied him the mental and emotional support he truly needed. 
(chapter 44) on, Kim Dan never got kissed again. The absence of a kiss in the locker room was revealing Joo Jaekyung’s lack of faith in Kim Dan. His mistrust left such an emotional wound, which is only visible to the third eye. 
(chapter 54) Because Joo Jaekyung saw it in a vision, it becomes clear that the athlete is still in denial about his wrongdoing. Therefore he didn’t apologize for his false accusations and his bad perception of the physical therapist: 
(chapter 60) By admitting that he knows about his innocence, he imagines that he can get scott-free. But he is wrong. His skepticism and dismissiveness wounded Kim Dan’s heart and mind, leaving scars that reverberate through their future interactions. Kim Dan can no longer trust him now 
(chapter 60, reducing his identity to his need for money, while Kim Dan rejects his offer, his help and conceals his pain. It is not surprising that Kim Dan left the treatment room. 
(chapter 60) By doing so, he is denying his rescue and assistance. It was, as if this night and as such the kiss had never happened. 
(chapter 60) The lies and miscommunication fade in the face of the life-and-death situation. However, this recognition is short-lived, as the events at the hospice reveal Joo Jaekyung’s lingering selfishness 
(chapter 27) and mental well-being. 
(chapter 27) When Kim Dan removed the needle carelessly 
further highlight his mental fragility. This fragility contrasts sharply with Joo Jaekyung’s reaction during their interaction at the hospice. When the champion angrily asks, 
, his words reveal frustration and a superficial understanding of the situation. Rather than addressing the underlying psychological distress driving Kim Dan’s actions, Joo Jaekyung perceives them as reckless behavior. His focus remains on immediate danger rather than the deeper cause, showcasing his emotional detachment and inability to grasp the full seriousness of Kim Dan’s mental state. This misinterpretation underscores how Joo Jaekyung is still projecting his own coping mechanisms onto Kim Dan, assuming that sheer willpower and physical strength can resolve emotional struggles. This moment serves as a stark reminder of Joo Jaekyung’s ongoing growth and the gaps in his understanding of Kim Dan’s suffering. His denial of having gone to the beach, despite clear evidence, points to the depth of his trauma. 
(chapter 60) So he could get into trouble in his profession. 
(chapter 60) at the hospice contrasts sharply with the purity of his actions on the beach, underscoring his ongoing struggle with selfishness and superficiality.
(chapter 60) at the end of episode 60 as something negative. How so? It is because Kim Dan never said this: 
(chapter 43) No wonder why he thought that it was time to get to know the fighter during that night: 
(chapter 44) 
(chapter 57) However, Jinx-philes should detect the divergence: she is not using the word “home”, but Seoul. That’s the reason why in the end, Shin Okja’s confession to her grandchild will come back to bite her, as she described her own grandson as a stranger in this little town. It was, as if he had been an orphan all his life. He had no home all along. 
(chapter 58) Where are the parents? Who is the man where he is staying? Where did he plan to go after his stay there? The idiom “temporarily” could be perceived as an evidence that the doctor plans to end his life. According to my interpretation, Heesung believed that the landlord was Kim Dan’s grandfather. He was just denying his origins out of shame. 
(chapter 9) The athlete has now every reason to stay there and that’s how he will discover all the doctor’s secrets and misery.
(chapter 15) kiss represents selfishness, secrecy, and miscommunication, while the beach kiss 
(chapter 53) for not realizing her biggest wish: to return to the West Coast. With her words, she implies that she never had any choice. Hence she is not responsible for her “misery”. However, after reading Erich Fromm’s philosophy, it becomes clear that she must have always followed social norms and listened to authority figures (parents, husband, doctors, …). That’s how she gave up on her own freedom. One might argue that her scoop of maneuver was limited due to her poverty. However, the Mother Of Pearl Wedding Cabinet is definitely expensive and no junk 
(chapter 16), especially since the latter is rather old. The grandmother could have sold it, but she never did, for the latter has a sentimental value. Consequently, I would say that she had missed her chance, and naturally her misery is the result of her own wrong choices. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the grandmother portrays herself as poor who has nothing to give to her grandchild. 
(chapter 53) (filial duty), a sign that he is not able to break free from social norms. At the same time, it displays that his feelings for Joo Jaekyung are much stronger than the ones for Shin Okja. His short time spent in the penthouse left a deep impression on him.
(chapter 53) Her vocabulary exposes that she became a master and in her mind, the puppy dog has to follow her owner. Therefore it is no coincidence that Mingwa created such an image: 
(chapter 53) Deep down, he would like to be recognized as a competent physical therapist. Moreover, my avid readers should recall that the champion had already noticed the change of heart in the doctor before the scheme took place. 
(chapter 53) So the athlete could come to the realization that his departure was related to the grandmother’s sickness and dying wish, a new version of episode 20 and 21. However, even if the fighter helps the grandmother, he can not entirely free the physical therapist. How so? It is because the doctor has to free himself, breaking free from conformity and his own psychological constraints (lack of confidence and as such courage). And the best evidence for his servitude mentality is the absence of his love confession to the athlete. He disguised it behind gratitude.
(Chapter 45) But how can he change his condition? I will give the answer below.
(chapter 50) Hence the last match was not cancelled in the last minute. The athlete is not fighting out of fun and passion, but out of obligation and survival. He is trapped in a world where money is everything. Thus he was always pushed to accept any challenger despite his injuries. That’s how I realized why the athlete always suspected Kim Dan of being greedy. It is because he projected his own thoughts onto his partner. However, this negative perception was definitely influenced by his “hyung”, we have the best example in episode 46. Due to Park Namwook, Joo Jaekyung was the one who was constantly thinking and talking about money in front of Kim Dan. 
(chapter 26) No wonder why he got so surprised by Kim Dan’s reaction in the locker room: 
(chapter 43), yet he added shortly this comment: : 
(chapter 43) The hypocrite coach utilized the personal pronoun “WE” indicating that he and his peers had played a role in the athlete’s decision. Funny is that though he complained about the schedule, he still accepted the switch of the fighter later. But he could have voiced his fears and objections. Nevertheless, he did nothing. Since I connected the halmeoni to past, I suddenly realized that the “lanista” embodies the opposite notion. He is trapped in the future, thus he is always anxious. Imagine that in that scene, they were celebrating Joo Jaekyung’s birthday, it should have been a good time. Yet, the manager kept talking about work and the future. 
(chapter 43) 
(chapter 43) This is a sign that he was not “enjoying the present”. In my eyes, with his comments, he was actually ruining the party. Fortunately, no one paid attention to his words except the physical therapist and Yosep. By talking like that, he gives the impression that he is caring and paying attention to the fighter. Yet this is just an illusion, for he is not focused on the present. He neglected his duties, therefore the schemers were able to bring drugs to the champion’s rooms. 
(chapter 53). The latter announces that his “boy” can take a break. What caught my attention is his idiom. The suspension got turned into a break which sounds much more positive. Interesting is that break is not only a synonym for “rest”, but also for “opportunity, chance”. This new discovery reinforces my previous interpretation: the loss of his “title” and his suspension are in verity an escape to freedom. Why? It is because he is no longer exposed to manipulations and external pressure like in episode 36: 
(chapter 36) money, social media, the agency, the lawyer, Park Namwook and Jeong Yosep. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung can think of something else other than work. Nevertheless, the athlete had not realized it yet. Striking is that the longer the fighter thought about the PT’s resignation, the longer he came to object to it. 
(chapter 53) This means that the fighter was acknowledging the “uke” as an important member of Team Black. In addition, he was recognizing Kim Dan’s effort and talent as PT. Moreover, it exposes the absence of change in Joo Jaekyung’s mentality. He was still “thinking” of work and fighting. It displays that the protagonist had not realized the true signification of his suspension yet. Hence the doctor’s departure was necessary. Joo Jaekyung is forced to think about his fated partner, making him forget his work and his career. His “obsession” with Kim Dan will push him to stop being a workaholic. But there is more to it.
(chapter 21) to this 
(chapter 47) Money is powerless in front of death and terrible injuries. Therefore he is lucky that his shoulder is not ruined forever. Moreover a trip represents a good metaphor for an escape, a travel is a synonym for freedom and the end of “routine”.
(chapter 35). However, since he didn’t spend much time in his own home, he never took the time to take care of his soulmate. By leaving the city and Team Black behind, he would become truly alone (as opposition to his trips to Busan, the States) which would give him an opportunity to become more honest to himself and to Kim Dan.
(chapter 43) In episode 1, he gave a positive feedback
(chapter 1). Nonetheless, his words sounded more negative due to the usage of negation. Moreover, Kim Dan was too scared to take his words seriously. Consequently, it becomes obvious that Kim Dan needs to hear praises from the athlete himself. It is not just about an apology about his misjudgment, the “hamster” needs to hear from his own patient that he trusts him and his hands. Thus he wants to be needed: 
(chapter 53) This explicates why the young man kept questioning the actor’s intentions behind his gifts. He could see that the man didn’t need him. This thought displays his desire to give a meaning to his own existence as well. If he is needed, he has a reason to exist. This desire of being needed can be expressed by words, but also with the hands: 
or like this: 
(chapter 22) 
(chapter 41) Being on the receiving side makes him feel weak and powerless. He is reduced to become a passive man. Furthermore, we shouldn’t overlook that such presents are not entirely selfless. Companies or admirers have expectations from Joo Jaekyung, earning some money or getting his attention. At the same time, these presents are strongly connected to his title and fame as champion. Thus they are not taking into consideration about the athlete’s dislikes and likes. Thus he was offered a bottle of wine 
(chapter 41) The fact that the athlete organized a charity event for his birthday exposes not only his huge heart, but also that he had long recognized the power of generosity. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the champion was willing to pay off the doctor’s debts. 
(chapter 18) Here, he hoped to see gratitude on his fated partner’s face, but it didn’t happen like he imagined. Yet, notice that despite their argument, Joo Jaekyung proposed to the main lead to live with him in the penthouse: 
(chapter 18) His facial expression is exposing his true thoughts. He was definitely happy to help the doctor. The reason is simple. He is in control of his heart and life. This shows that deep down, the man has always had a soft heart and could find fulfillment in giving. However, the problem is that the champion had also internalized that there is nothing free in this world. Due to his past experiences, he realized that receivers would exploite his goodness. The green-haired guy was the perfect example. 
(chapter 2) Therefore it is not surprising that he kept denying his kindness to the doctor: 
(chapter 30) They both desire to be acknowledged and appreciated. 
(chapter 45) With this image, it was, as if Kim Dan wanted to be distinguished from all the stans. Yes, I do think that this has something to do their own negative feelings. However, there is a difference between Choi Heesung and Kim Dan. Note that the gifts are related to his sponsors and the agency. They were related to his work. Moreover, the gumiho rarely gave the meals or the presents personally. 
(chapter 31) 
(chapter 31) Furthermore, the actor gave these things for one reason: it was to obtain the doctor’s heart or to maintain his good image as a celebrity. In other words, these gestures were not selfless at all. This explains why the athlete was so weary of such “gifts”: a return of favor or a service. But the comedian is not the only one donating things. Naturally, it is the manager Park Namwook. 
(Chapter 26) 
(chapter 36) However, my avid readers should ponder on the following aspect: how did he buy the jackets and the junk food? 
(Chapter 45) It is because his relationship with his coach has always been based on „conditional love and expectations“. Don’t forget that the coach was particularly nice to the athlete after winning his match in Busan. He was willing to be his „servant“ in that moment. Furthermore, there exists another evidence that in episode 45 the fighter latched out on the doctor because of his unresolved feelings towards his hyung. 
(chapter 41) This frenzy was portrayed as something positive. Jinxworms can observe that the manager is mentioning the existence of „favors“. For me, it is no coincidence that in episode 45, the arrival from presents coming from his hyung coincides with the present with Kim Dan. It shows the underlying conflict between the celebrity and the former wrestler. Nevertheless, the fighter has not grasped it yet. So far, Joo Jaekyung has not tried to defy Park Namwook openly, to claim his place as the true owner of Team Black. We should see his words here as a first attempt to act as the boss
(Chapter 46) The tension reached its peak in that scene: 
That’s where the generosity from Park Namwook comes from: he gives his punches to Joo Jaekyung and takes Joo Jaekyung‘s company for granted. And now, you comprehend why I selected such a title for this essay. 
(Chapter 26) The sparring in episode 26 represents the positive version of giving a punch and taking it. The fighter was not upset about his defeat, moreover he was acting like a real teacher asking the physical therapist to overcome his own fears. On the hand, the slap at the hospital embodies the opposite notions: resent, no real teaching, no reflection, no listening, the one slapping is not overcoming his own fears and vents his anger. The give and take in episode 26 was happiness, true generosity, self-awareness, while this slap displays misery, anger, ignorance: 
(Chapter 26) The contrast not only exposes Park Namwook’s fake generosity, but also his greed and selfishness. For me, he missed the opportunity, as at the gym, Kim Dan took the chance, when the athlete was distracted. Hence in my opinion, chapter 52 was the turning point in their toxic relationship. Moreover, it signifies that the manager lost his special position as hyung. Far away from the gym, Joo Jaekyung will see Kim Dan under a different light, maybe even as a true role model, for he is wearing his heart in his hand.
(chapter 7) 
(chapter 22) This scene at the hospital displays that the fighter had been mirroring the behavior of his counterpart: Shin Okja is sweet and kind. And who is moody, yelling, brutal ? Park Namwook: 
(chapter 43) 
(chapter 43) This exposes his lack of engagement and indifference in the end, but this becomes even more obvious during the night: 
(chapter 43) Where was he, when his star was drunk? It was, as though he had vanished. 
(chapter 43) But the best evidence for this interpretation is this image: 
(chapter 52) The manager is upset, because his boy lost his title and his reputation is ruined. Moreover, many members left the gym which means that the company lost a lot of money. 
(chapter 9) However, he never presented himself as a father or a husband. It was, as if his children or wife were not a source of his happiness. Why? It is because they don’t bring money, but rather cost money. Thanks to Joo Jaekyung’s popularity, the manager could stand in the spotlight 
(chapter 40) in the States and even at the gym? 
(Chapter 43) It is because he doesn’t view the uke as a possession contrary to his „boy“. Why? It is because the young man doesn’t bring money or contribute to boast the manager’s self-esteem. In fact, Kim Dan is an expensive PT and the manager is aware of his high salary. Moreover, contrary to the hamster, Park Namwook was never seen in the penthouse, and the celebrity refused to invite the members. This is a clue that the champion could have refused to invite his coach there. The doctor’s stay at the penthouse is something Park Namwook discovered by accident. 
(Chapter 22) And now, it is important to recall that in the mode of Having, rivalry and competition are predominant. Therefore I deduce that deep down, the coach and manager sensed the physical therapist as a source of threat and rival. Therefore Jinx-philes shouldn’t be surprised that the coach did nothing to keep Kim Dan. 
(Chapter 53) Here his gestures and words should be judged as lip-services. He can even rationalize his departure: bad luck, they save a lot of money, for the next PT will have a lower salary. In addition, Kim Dan was treated as the celebrity’s possession, therefore he used him as a tool in order to compensate the actor. The manager is definitely imagining that once the break ends, things will work like before. 
(chapter 41) In his eyes, possessions and money determine someone’s values. Hence he bought an expensive keychain for his fated partner. Furthermore, I have been wondering if this spending is not related to Shin Okja, the latter could have been a spendthrift. In the essay „
(Chapter 19). Another possibility is that she made sure that her grandchild would spend money on her:
(chapter 22) after the departure of Joo Jaekyung, but notice how the halmeoni thanked the benefactor: 
(chapter 21) One might argue that the poor woman couldn’t do much to express her gratitude. However, this is just a deception. Shin Okja could have written a letter to express her gratitude to Joo Jaekyung. Why do you think Mingwa created two scenes with a letter or card? 
(chapter 45) 
(chapter 53) The comparison lets transpire the importance of words. The champion might have judged the keychain differently, if he had read the card. But he didn’t. Another parallel between these two scenes is the rejection of a gift! However, in the final episode, Kim Dan voiced genuine gratitude towards his benefactor. The latter had allowed him to work as his PT. With the letter, he could voice his thoughts and emotions much better. And now, you realize that Shin Okja could have acted the same way. This made me realize that deep down, she resents being poor. She likes Dan spending money on her.
(chapter 41). He should treat the sportsman nicely (“do good”). Kim Dan is the one who should be indebted to Joo Jaekyung. However, observe what she said in front of her grandchild before: she was the one who was grateful to the main lead, and not Kim Dan!! 
(chapter 41) She should have been the one who expressed her gratitude to Joo Jaekyung, but not Kim Dan for the trip (it was work related anyway). One might argue that the poor woman is trapped in the hospital, she can not do much. But you are wrong. She could have written a letter to her benefactor which means that she would have sacrificed some of her time for the athlete. Imagine that she had sent a message to the athlete, the latter might have decided to pay a visit to her. He is not truly heartless. With this silence, she created the impression that his assistance had changed her situation.
(chapter 22) 
(chapter 1) In other words, he was not passionate about his profession. This means that he didn’t define himself as PT due to his lack of engagement and low self-esteem. Besides, let’s not forget that he judges people based on their social status and seniority. I would even add, the main lead had not recognized the existence of his own skills (knowledge, genuineness and dedication). But by working for Joo Jaekyung, he came to enjoy his job. This explicates why he kept buying books. 
(chapter 53) He likes not only his job now, but also learning as such. This is no coincidence that education in the mode of “being” means that the focus is on learning and developing skills. Hence I still see a change in the hamster at the end of season 1: 
(chapter 23) Then he only focused on the “outcome” and not on the process. Hence he neglected them, delegated his task on the pressured athlete. The latter had to train them: 
(chapter 36) In my eyes, he didn’t want to play the bad guy. The meeting or his worries were more important 
(chapter 36) than their training and career. Moreover, he kept bribing them with junk food 
(chapter 26) We shouldn’t judge his words as a verity, he was just using the doctor as a false excuse. The reality is that the sparring had brought no money at all! This fight was strongly intertwined with fun. The notion of „entertaining“ stands in opposition to money. Fun means feeling emotions and being to true one’s self. In other words, Kim Dan stands for a different notion of MMA fighting: the sportsmen shouldn’t work for money, but for fun. They are artists too. This signifies that as time passed on, the members of Team Black lost their passion for fighting 
(chapter 26) and became more obsessed with possessions and fame. Potato and the remaining members represent the exceptions. They enjoyed the lessons despite the pain and struggles. The other members became dependent on external tools which led them to lose their integrity. To conclude, the reason for their disloyalty is that at the end, they had long internalized the mode of having and were just interested in getting successful.
(special episode2 ), but also Cheolmin 
(chapter 13)
(Chapter 13) when the latter denied his responsibility. This shows that the man doesn’t mistrust people. He has faith in humans. And in this short scene, the doctor shows alle positive notions mentioned above: love, empathy, joy and creativity. Therefore I come to the following interpretation: he embodies the being mode. No wonder why he was not present in season 1. The main lead was definitely obsessed with work. Hence the moment Cheolmin’s path crosses Kim Dan’s, the funny doctor should become the hamster’s new role model.
(chapter 53) He is standing at a crossroad. What does he truly want in life? Fame? More money? Or happiness and as such love and fun? 
And now, you know the origin for this essay. As you can see, the collection of Haikus is focusing on the topic “Water”. Since I only possess the French version of Haikus, I could only give you my own English translation. Fortunately, my friend @Rin_de_eegana was able to find the original version, Japanese. Therefore in the second version, I am giving a second English translation whích gave me new insight once again. Anyway, the thing is that as soon as I read certain poems, it made me think of Jinx and the characters. This shows my obsession for this terrific Manhwa.
(chapter 53) where she hoped to see a beautiful ocean one more time. 
(chapter 53) When she was 10 years old, she was moved by how the ocean changed colors with the beautiful sunset. It was no longer blue or grey, but yellow, red, pink, orange and purple. This wonderful but brief moment left such a deep impression on her that she could never forget it. 
(chapter 53) She never came to regret her walk to the beach, because this souvenir also became her source of strength. This memory created in her the desire to see it again, thus she kept postcards with views of the ocean. 
(chapter 17) 
(chapter 53) is glowing blue? I don’t think so. Let’s not forget that blue symbolizes wood for Koreans. The sea (water) and a tree 
(chapter 41) are the doctor’s true elements. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why under the tree, he came to acknowledge his feelings for the athlete. In addition, if Kim Dan gets close to water, this signifies that he will get replenished and truly nourished. And notice that during season 1, he never ate properly. 
(Chapter 7) And we could see that Joo Jaekyung had a similar attitude in season 1, he would listen to his hyungs and the people working for MFC. Consequently, I come to the following deduction: this time, the fighter will make the decision on his own. He won’t follow Park Namwook’s advice: 
(chapter 1) 
(chapter 47) 
(chapter 47) even when the doctor was confronted with the truth about his terminally ill grandmother. The sun was always shining brightly. Since in the haiku from Ryokan Taigu, the rain is associated with old-age and fall (misty), it dawned on me that the rain should be associated with the grandmother’s death. If this comes true, it was, as though the sky and gods were weeping for her vanishing. Additionally, the first season took place in Spring and Summer, thus I deduce that season 2 will take place around late summer, fall and winter. This means that the weather should change. And this remark led to my second revelation. I started looking for South Korea’s climates, particularly I was curious about the climate on the West Coast.
(chapter 19) the presence of pink and purple hydrangeas indicates that it was taken in Summer. This new approach reinforces my perception that the grandmother is about to get confronted with harsh reality despite her attempts to escape from it. Her wish can not be fulfilled so easily, like she is imagining it. In addition, Manhwa-philes should keep in their mind that weather has a great influence on elderly people’s health.
We have an elderly man walking through the rain in front of the blue sea. The latter is accompanied with a Waka-poem from Yoshihiro (which was not translated). According to my Japanese friend @Rin_de_eegana (飯乞ふと 里にも出でず この頃は 時雨の雨の 間なくし降れば), this phrase describes a situation where one cannot even go out to the village to beg for alms due to the long rain. Here, we have the topic of poverty linked to old-age and rain. Yes, the pages of this book reminded me of Shin Okja, a poor elderly woman who is so sick. And like mentioned above, the rain could be the reason why the woman doesn’t go to the beach. The two poems are underlining one important aspect: the powerlessness of humans in front of nature. No one can stop aging, just like no one can control the weather. At the same time, it outlines the importance for a senior to be surrounded by people, so that they don’t end up dying from dehydration, from a cold or hypothermia.
(chapter 49) Both main leads went to the restroom in order to hide their emotional turmoil and suffering. They used flowing water (in Joo Jaekyung’s case the shower) in order to cover the sound of their weeping: SHAAA. Yes, the tears are making sound… so the rain should make sound as well. And this brings me to my next remark. 
(chapter 29) 
. (chapter 30) In episode 35, the night stands for ignorance and self-deception, for the doctor was not present. Joo Jaekyung reverted to his old self. However, don’t forget that the haiku was not just about the moon light, but also about the sound of the waves. All the senses are awakened which represents a better experience than the grandmother’s. Moreover, since I am anticipating the presence of Kim Dan, this means that Kim Dan embodies not only the light in the dark, but also sound of water. This interpretation brings me to the following remark. In season 1, the athlete had already associated his fated partner to “sound”, though in the beginning he viewed it as noise 
(chapter 18) and as a source of stress and worries. 
(chapter 47) To conclude, Joo Jaekyung will also have an Enlightenment in front of the ocean, but contrary to the grandmother, this experience will be associated with the night, the sound and a person: his soulmate Kim Dan.
(chapter 1) The problem is that Kim Dan blamed himself for his suffering, as he must have often not paid the interests on time. That’s the reason why he got surprised, when he saw his enemy in front of his humble home. 
(chapter 1) Due to the lack of rest and time, he didn’t have the opportunity to ponder on his life and even have dreams on his own. Therefore he had no ambition. At the same time, he couldn’t become energetic and proactive due to his low self-esteem and his abandonment issues.
(chapter 26) This represents the highlight for the first season. For the first time, both characters had fun together. That’s how they got one step closer to each other. The fighter was enjoying this moment, as he was teaching Kim Dan to become more proactive and fight for himself. The sparring represents the opposite version of the athlete’s vision (chapter 29). He felt safe next to Kim Dan. In fact, his presence boosted his confidence. 
(chapter 25) It is no coincidence that he employed that expression in front of his fated partner. To conclude, chapter 26 stands for life and happiness, proving that their life is not cursed per se. Consequently, red was the dominant color of this chapter. This pigment stands for love and life. Both felt alive during that day. Moreover, we could see glimpses of the sportsman’s true psyche as well, when he proposed to spar with the main lead. He desired to help the doctor himself. Hence he acted as his mentor and teacher in the ring. There, we could see his generosity, interest and open-mindedness. He wasn’t looking down on the doctor, he saw him as a true member from Team Black.
(chapter 29) He has no one by his side. And this observation leads me to my next interpretation. The existence of Joo Jaekyung’s belief is exposing Park Namwook’s neglect and bad management and coaching. We could say that he is partially responsible for the champion’s misery and bad luck. Therefore it is no coincidence that the sparring took place during his absence. 
(chapter 26)
(chapter 27) But by portraying him like that, the coach gave us a justification why he wouldn’t converse with the gym owner. Why should he talk or listen to Joo Jaekyung, if the latter is stubborn and obsessed with his work? It is pointless. And such an attitude could only get reinforced in this scene: 
(chapter 46) Yet, according to my interpretation, the main character’s departure was not the sign of stubbornness, but rather of fear and avoidance. Since the manager doesn’t know his star that well, he judges him based on appearances. Moreover, I believe that he has the tendency to generalize, just like certain readers. Since the athlete beat a doctor and was quite brutal with a fighter, he is stigmatized as “thug” or a “spoiled kid”. I am suspecting that the way the hyung met the celebrity affected his perception about the young fighter.
(chapter 46) Despite his attitude, Joo Jaekyung still listened to his hyung’s warning, for from that moment on, he kept his distance from everyone, including the physical therapist. But there’s more to it. Park Namwook keeps associating his star with “good luck”. 
(chapter 1) 
(chapter 27) This represents the exact opposite of the star’s jinx. It shows that he is not trying to understand his celebrity. With such a mind-set, it is normal that the champion wouldn’t trust his manager. And the absence of the manager in this panel 
(chapter 33) The latter truly worries for his star, although he is well aware of his shortcomings. 
(chapter 30) In addition, he knows about his private life and love life. 
(chapter 33), he didn’t report it to his hyung. He also kept it a secret. That way, he was not only protecting Kim Dan’s misdiagnosis, but also Park Namwook’s misjudgment. On the other hand, he acted as a real boss, for the comedian is an important client. 
(chapter 23) He never confronted the members with the truth. They lack skills 
(chapter 46). It was, as if they didn’t have the goal to create a new champion. How come? It is because the gym was initially created for Joo Jaekyung’s needs. And now, Jinx-lovers comprehend the dilemna. Team Black needs to redefine itself and its purpose. Moreover, Park Namwook’s true wish is to open the gym for “kids”. And that’s how he treated the staff from Team Black, like little kids. No wonder why many left the gym in the end. They didn’t feel truly supported by the manager and coach. Jeong Yosep and Park Namwook didn’t put any real effort to turn the members into professional fighters. That’s the reason why none of them had a MMA manager, only a coach and nothing more. 
(chapter 49) He claimed to trust the champion, but the reality is the opposite. 
(chapter 52) He blamed Joo Jaekyung for everything: the tie, the doctor’s departure, the suspension and as such the loss of his good reputation. However, even if the champion had vented his anger onto the physical therapist wrongly, he had reasons to doubt Kim Dan. He had not only received the pictures, but he had been warned by the coach himself to doubt the members’ loyalty. There was a spy and a traitor among Team Black. One detail in the last panel caught my attention is the idiom “facts”. It is in plural and not in singular. Fact could be seen as a reference to his own warning, he had not checked the fact either (rumor, suspected disloyalty), yet this is not what he meant. Potato had exposed only one fact to the group: the switch of the spray organized by Choi Gilseok.
(chapter 52) So what other fact was Park Namwook referring to? The fighter Baek Junmin and director of King Of MMA had paid Kim Dan. This shows that he had heard the conversation between the two protagonists. 
(chapter 52) And what did the manager do, after the champion had left the room? He abandoned Kim Dan, followed by the other men. At no moment, he asked Oh Daehyun or Yoon-Gu to take care of the physical therapist. But by following the celebrity or remaining passive, they had implicitly supported Joo Jaekyung’s decision. They had taken his side. And now, you comprehend why all these men chose to put the whole blame on the celebrity. 
(chapter 1) 
(chapter 49) He should be responsible for his contracts, yet the reality is that the Entertainment agency is the one managing the champion’s career. 
(chapter 52) The article is indicating that the champion was quickly judged and this within a few days. The article implies the non-intervention of a lawyer or his manager. No one sided with the celebrity. They are not even contacting the media. 
(chapter 29) He is not standing next to the main lead, but he is facing him. He is like an opponent. Another divergence is that Kim Dan was alone, whereas Park Namwook utilizes Potato and the others from Team Black to corner Joo Jaekyung. The doctor was willing to listen to him, whereas the other gets upset, when the other admits his suffering. Since the gym is facing a crisis, the patient should find a solution to the problem. 
(chapter 52) that he regretted his decision and outburst. By admitting his mistake, he would have become responsible for the whole mess. Funny is that he asked compassion from Joo Jaekyung, whereas he showed none to the patient. And what was Kim Dan thinking during that night? 
(chapter 52) resembles a lot to the image with the opponents. 
(chapter 52) For the first time, the champion is no longer looking at his cellphone. He shared his thoughts to others and exposed his powerlessness 
(chapter 40) These two situations have many similarities. Both were confronted with an accusation, they were surrounded by people, who were acting as righteous and honest workers. Both were coerced to admit a wrongdoing. In addition, they are actually abandoned by Team Black members, especially the manager. No one is looking for them out of concern. The reality was that they were not their “true colleagues and even less friends. However, like mentioned in a previous essay, the men in black were actually covering up a crime in order to hide the corruption from the organization. This makes me truly wonder if Park Namwook is truly ignorant about MFC’s corruption. He could simply know about the crimes, but he chose to close an eye to the whole situation. 
(chapter 40) He had rescued him. So by slapping the champion
(chapter 19) Yes, we should see episode 53 as the negative reflection from chapter 19, the doctor’s arrival at the penthouse. 
(chapter 19) 
(chapter 53) Here, what Kim Dan saw was not the real sunset, but the lights from the cameras. Far away from the lights from the journalists, the champion will witness the beauty of a sunset, which can not be bought with money. 
(chapter 37) or sightseeing attractions. Here, I feel the need to add this French song from Daniel Balavoine (1985): “Aimer est plus fort que d’être aimé” (Loving is stronger than being loved”).
(chapter 21). By interacting with Kim Dan, he will be able to reconnect with his true self which will change him forever. Notice that after the night in the States, at no moment, the champion mentioned his jinx, but spoke about his physical health. In reality, he was including his mental health. This shows that he was already moving on from his jinx. Moreover, after the tie and the suspension, he is not mentioning or thinking about his former belief. The reason is simple. Because of the doctor, the champion was allowed to perceive glimpses of the truth: corruption and the existence of tricks. This image 
(Chapter 48) represents the medicine against the champion’s false belief. Moreover, by making him meet his former rival Baek Junmin, the athlete was incited to overcome his past and biggest fears. 
(chapter 42) This shows that his self-loathing is gradually vanishing as well. The fact that he is employing the personal pronoun “I” indicates that he is able now to distinguish himself from his grandmother. 
(chapter 35) He is still cheering the athlete on and even wishing him happiness. This exposes that the physical therapist discovered “happiness” through the celebrity. He is no longer believing in the athlete’s jinx.
(Chapter 53) Here, I feel the need to remind my avid readers that though the doctor was victim of a trick, he was not entirely innocent either. He should have come clean with the champion concerning his meeting with the director from the rival gym. His lie still played a huge role in the champion’s mistrust. But why did he not tell him later? It is because he was under the influence of the manager. 
(chapter 48) The hyung had been his mentor and advisor. Thus he copied his actions and followed blindly his recommendations. 
(chapter 44) He never told the athlete that he was so cute or handsome. He kept his thoughts and happiness to himself. The only moment they shared real intimacy was this night: 
(chapter 29) Moreover, during that sex session, the athlete employed dirty talk. 
(chapter 29) It was not to express affection.
(chapter 2) prostitution and rough sex. He never experienced true romance and the birth of “first love”. The courting and seduction were totally absent. His first kiss is connected to fighting, pain, survival and protection. 
(chapter 20) Till that moment, he lived like a ghost. He had been trying to deny the existence of his own body. And how did the athlete describe his lover in the bathroom? First, he compared him to a whore 
(chapter 19) before describing him as a baby. 
(chapter 20) However, we should expect a more pure version, where both act as innocent and inexperienced teenagers, similar gestures: 
(chapter 1) He was so attracted to him physically, hence he didn’t pay attention to his partner’s personality. In fact, he had a negative perception of his nature: 
(chapter 1) By becoming a ghost, the champion is forced to perceive the main lead as a person and as such to pay attention to his personality (dislikes, likes, qualities, career). That’s the reason why I believe that in season 2, he won’t make the same mistake again. He will study the doctor and get to know him better. That’s how he will be able to identify his feelings for the protagonist. He doesn’t love him because of his cute face and body, but because of his big heart and warmth. He is so responsible, generous and dedicated that there’s no one else like him. He embodies true kindness and loyalty. His care and worries are genuine. That’s why the champion will voice his affection differently from the past: “Secret and innocent love behind work”. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why both characters had to go to the seascape. Nature is the perfect place to nurture innocent and pure love. Consequently, I don’t think, the author will rush to create a new chapter full of sex… rather full of tenderness and caresses! Thus Mingwa created such panels: 
Bebebisous33s' analyses in K-Dramaland and Manhwas 