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 Breathless in the Light – part 1 and Breathless in the Light – part 2
It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33 That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining Manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

When Air Becomes Emotion
There are chapters in Jinx that feel like pauses in the storm, moments when the story seems to inhale before beating again. Chapter 83 is one of them. At first glance, it resembles a “date”: the two men wear complementary headbands — white and black,
(chapter 83) mirroring the contrast of their clothes and their personalities — and the champion even leans in to lick a smear of ice cream from the therapist’s finger, an image so intimate that any passerby would mistake them for lovers. And yet, not quite. The physical therapist approaches the outing as part of his job, a therapeutic break meant to soothe his patient’s nerves
(chapter 83), while the athlete approaches the day with a far more personal hope. He stages the rides strategically, intending to appear strong and reliable so that his companion might grow frightened and instinctively reach for him
(chapter 83) — just as he once did in the swimming pool.
(chapter 80) Beneath the surface, what looks like a date is a carefully orchestrated attempt to recreate closeness without naming it. To conclude, whereas the episode flirts with the aesthetics of a date, the intentions behind it remain mismatched, unspoken, and unresolved. It is not an official date, yet it does not behave like a simple work-related excursion either, and we as readers are left suspended in that tantalizing in-between space — as if the very moment were hanging weightless above the ground, waiting for someone to name what it truly is.
As we follow them through the amusement park, we sense something shifting. The air itself seems to vibrate
(chapter 83), charged with a warmth that seasoned Jinxphiles will recognize immediately: a tension between joy and tension, duty and desire, wind and water. And then we see him — the usually anxious physical therapist — smiling with his eyes closed, arms raised, as if offering himself to the sky and joining his “companions”, the clouds. In this panel, his hands — so often clenched, overworked, or trembling from exhaustion, fear or anger — are finally resting, suspended in a gesture of pure lightness and ease.
This moment is more than simple amusement; it is a brief liberation from the weight he has carried for years. For the first time, the man who usually survives on caution allows himself to rise, to laugh, to surrender to the wind. He appears almost weightless — as if something inside him has quietly unclenched. And as I watched this unexpected lightness unfold, something else surfaced just as naturally: a melody. Soft at first, almost accidental. It felt as though the chapter itself were humming in the background — John Paul Young’s Love Is in the Air.
Love is in the air
Everywhere I look around
Love is in the air
Every sight and every soundAnd I don’t know if I’m being foolish
Don’t know if I’m being wise
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when I look in your eyesLove is in the air
In the whisper of the trees
Love is in the air
In the thunder of the seaAnd I don’t know if I’m just dreaming
Don’t know if I feel sane
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when you call out my nameChorus: Love is in the air
Love is in the air
Oh-oh-oh
Mm-ooh, ooh-oohLove is in the air
In the risin’ of the sun
Love is in the air
When the day is nearly doneAnd I don’t know if you’re an illusion
Don’t know if I see it true
But you’re something that I must believe in
And you’re there when I reach out for youLove is in the air
Everywhere I look around
Love is in the air
Every sight and every soundAnd I don’t know if I’m being foolish
Don’t know if I’m being wise
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when I look in your eyes (chorus)
Its melody, repetitive and gently rising, mirrors the slow ascent of the Ferris
wheel: a circular motion that builds toward a quiet crescendo. And what might strike you — almost instinctively — is how naturally the lyrics seem to align with the chapter’s emotional beats, as if each verse echoed a panel.
“Every sight and every sound,”
“I don’t know if I’m being foolish,”
“It’s there when I look in your eyes”
— suddenly these lines become more than a melody. They become a key to understanding what neither the fighter nor the therapist dares to say aloud.
(chapter 83) The song becomes more than a soundtrack; it becomes an interpretive key, guiding us through the protagonists’ unspoken emotions and shadowed hesitations.
At the same time, chapter 83 mirrors earlier moments of their story—especially the opening episode and the charged night-and-morning sequence of chapters 44 
(chapter 44) and 45, where desire blurred into illusion and
(chapter 45) reality collided with unspoken longing. The tension between dream
(chapter 83) and waking life, quietly present in the lyrics themselves, resurfaces at the park amusement as well — though its meaning will become clearer as we look deeper. In season 1, the boundaries between the celebrity fighter and his therapist were blurred in ways neither of them understood: professional on the surface, intimate in practice, yet undefined in essence. Physical closeness existed, but emotional clarity did not. Now, in the bright openness of this amusement-park afternoon and evening, we are invited to look again. What exactly is their relationship here? A supervised rest day? A moment of companionship? The first fragile step toward something tenderer that neither man is ready to articulate?
And if their bond no longer fits the categories imposed by their roles, then we are left with the question that rises with them into the purple sky: What is love—when the line between duty and desire dissolves into the air itself?
Dan — “Love is in the air, everywhere I look around”
The first verse of the song insists on perception — on looking, hearing, sensing the presence of love in the world before one dares to name it. And this is precisely what happens to the physical therapist in chapter 83. When he sees a child running toward a mascot for a hug
(chapter 83) or a family laughing together
(chapter 83), something in him shifts so quietly that one might miss it at first glance: he smiles.
(chapter 83) Not out of politeness, not to reassure someone else, not through exhaustion or habit. He smiles because he witnesses joy — and for once, it does not make him feel smaller. It does not activate the reflexes of deprivation or fear that shaped his life from childhood to early adulthood. On the other hand, the smile he gives in that moment is not radiant, not wide, not unguarded. It is a grin, a restrained upward curve that reveals both warmth and hesitation. His joy is present — unmistakably so — but it is still contained, as if his body has not yet learned how to express happiness without caution. This small, hesitant grin shows us a man who is beginning to open, yet still holds himself back, afraid of wanting too much.
And what makes this expression so striking is what it lacks. There is no envy in his eyes. No longing to trade places with the laughing family. No bitterness. No “why not me?” His gaze does not grab at the happiness he sees; it simply receives it. This absence is meaningful. For someone who grew up experiencing loss, scarcity, and emotional withholding, joy witnessed in others often triggers one of two reactions:
- greed (“I want that, too.”)
- hurt (“Why can’t I have that?”)
But Dan feels neither. He simply watches and grins — shyly, lightly, almost apologetically — as if happiness is something he is allowed to observe but not yet to claim. The expression reflects the quiet discipline of someone who has spent years dampening his own desires so he wouldn’t be disappointed. His joy is limited, yes, but also genuine. It is the joy of someone who is relearning safety through the world around him, step by delicate step.
And this is precisely why the grin matters. It shows that his emotional defenses are beginning to loosen, but not collapse. He allows the warmth of the scenery to touch him, without reaching out for more. He permits himself to feel — but in moderation, in the smallest possible dose that won’t frighten him. It is, therefore, the perfect visual embodiment of the song’s opening line:
“Love is in the air, everywhere I look around…”
because for the first time, he is looking around with the capacity to notice, even if he still doesn’t dare to hope.
Back in episode 1, the world was something he endured: every sound
(chapter 1) reminded him of responsibility , every sight
(chapter 1) pulled him back to duty or scarcity. Happiness belonged to others; he lived on the margins, always working, always surviving. But here, in the brightness of the amusement park
(chapter 83), his gaze is finally unshackled. He looks outward and takes in the warmth of strangers’ affection without translating it into loss or longing.
(chapter 83) Like described above, he is neither envious nor resentful. Instead, he experiences a fragile form of joy — not through himself, but through others. It is indirect happiness, a borrowed ray of light, but it is still happiness.
This scene reveals a subtle but profound transformation: the world no longer feels hostile. For a child who grew up believing that everything — security, love, parents — could vanish without warning or bring pain, the outside world was always tinged with danger. Now, for the first time, it becomes a landscape where he feels safe
(chapter 83), though an accident could actually occur there. This contrasts so much to his thoughts in episode 1.
(chapter 1) The amusement park becomes a place in which love exists openly, visibly, harmlessly. The lyrics capture this awakening beautifully: “And I don’t know if I’m being foolish… but it’s something that I must believe in.”
(chapter 83) This is exactly what his smile expresses. He has no proof that love could include him. No certainty that he deserves it. No assurance that daring to hope won’t lead to disappointment. And yet, he believes — not because someone reassures him, but because his own senses finally give him permission.
When he smiles at the child or the family, he is not imagining himself in their place, nor projecting himself into some idealized domestic future. He simply lets the warm air settle in his chest. Happiness exists. It exists near him. It exists without punishing him. And if it exists, then perhaps — perhaps — he is not excluded from it forever. This is the first real beat of hope, the quiet reawakening of a heart that has spent too long underwater. The therapist who once sank in the pool out of fear now rises through the air of the amusement park simply by witnessing life unfold around him. His joy does not come from the ride; it initially comes from seeing love in the air, exactly as the song describes.
Yet this joy remains delicate, tentative — the kind that sits quietly at the edge of his lips. His smile is not wide or unguarded; it is a small, restrained grin,
(chapter 83) a gesture that reveals how carefully he still manages his own emotions. For a man who learned early in life to minimize his desires to avoid disappointment, this gentle openness is already a form of courage. And then something unexpected happens.
Dan — “Love is in the air, In the risin’ of the sun”
The moment he realizes that the fighter
(chapter 83) — the man who seems invincible and superior in every domain — has never been to an amusement park, a spark ignites inside him.
(chapter 83) His heart, which moments earlier beat quietly in observation, begins to race with excitement. For the first time, he is equal to the athlete. At the same time, for the first time, he is the one with experience or power. 😲 How so? For the first time, age becomes real
(chapter 83): the physical therapist is twenty-nine, the athlete twenty-six.
Dan’s seniority — long irrelevant, long suppressed — begins to surface, not through conscious thought, but through instinct. He does not step forward because he is older; he steps forward because, for once, he knows something the fighter does not: his own desires. His body moves before his mind names the change. His voice lifts before he understands.
(chapter 83) He suddenly steps into a role he has never been allowed to inhabit before: that of the knowledgeable one, the guide, the hyung.
And this moment exposes a quiet truth about his past that the story had always hinted at: he has never been allowed to inhabit his age.
(chapter 78) Dan’s lifetime of passivity did not come from lack of intelligence or lack of will; it came from conditioning. He was raised by a guardian who loved him, yes, but who also unintentionally infantilized him. He was not allowed to question her words and decisions. His grandmother, who was not just older but twice his senior in authority, experience, and certainty, occupied every position of knowledge in his life. She decided what was dangerous, what was sensible, what was allowed, and what was forbidden. Her worldview dominated so completely that Dan’s own judgment never had room to form. His grandmother’s authority was absolute — not malicious, but unquestioned — and Dan learned very early that his role in the household was not to decide but to obey.
The clearest illustration appears in Chapter 7, when she panics about the money he could spend for her treatment and immediately demands:
(chapter 7) As if a twenty-nine-year-old man — a working professional — were incapable of making a responsible financial decision. Dan’s “Of course not!” is instinctive, defensive, almost childlike, exposing the emotional hierarchy between them. In her eyes, he is not an adult with agency, but a boy who must be corrected, cautioned, overridden.
And yet — paradoxically — he was forced to become an adult far too early which the grandmother acknowledges.
(chapter 65) However, observe that here, she feigns ignorance, she doesn’t know the origins of this metamorphosis. On the other hand, it is clear that she is well aware of the cause. He worked to support them both. He paid the hospital bills. He negotiated the debts. He shouldered the responsibility of survival.
And the greatest irony? The debt is in his name.
(chapter 17) Legally, financially, the burden is his. But emotionally, symbolically, he was never allowed to own that responsibility; it was neither recognized nor validated. Instead, his grandmother continued to treat him as a child incapable of navigating the world on his own — even though he was the one saving them both.
This contradiction shaped him: He learned duty without authority, responsibility without recognition, adulthood without autonomy. He was taught to carry the weight of the world but never the permission to decide how to carry it. And now, we finally comprehend why the physical therapist remained so passive throughout Season 2. By giving him choices
(chapter 77) and asking for his opinion
(chapter 83), Joo Jaekyung is liberating his fated partner.
And this is precisely why the moment in Chapter 83 hits so deeply.
(chapter 83) For the first time, he is not the silent follower but the one who leads. For the first time, his taste and desire matter.
For the first time, he is allowed to choose — where to walk, what to try, how to spend the day.
And in that instant, something long-suppressed rises to the surface: the part of him that was never permitted to grow up. His racing heart is not just excitement; it is the awakening of a self that had been dormant for years — the self who finally, quietly, steps into the light. As if echoing John Paul Young’s quiet promise,
“Love is in the air, in the risin’ of the sun,”
something inside him rises too — a self long buried under duty and financial strain. Chapter 83 unfolds beneath the sun, but its emotional lighting belongs to him: not chronological morning, but the symbolic morning of a man finally waking up. We see this most clearly in the moment he blushes and murmurs:
(chapter 83). His face, half in shadow and half in light, appears as though it is gradually emerging from darkness. It feels like dawn breaking across his features — the soft illumination of newfound boldness, desire, and possibility. Even if the scene takes place in the afternoon, his face carries the light of morning, the brightness of a heart beginning to beat for itself.
(chapter 83) And this is why his heart speeds up. Why he blushes. Why he suddenly moves with purpose. Why he becomes the guide: “I’ll be your guide today!”
This is not merely excitement. It is the first time his joy has weight and his seniority has meaning. It is the first time he can lead without fear. It is the first time he can offer joy rather than labor. In this fleeting, luminous moment, the therapist steps into the adulthood he earned long ago — not out of duty, but out of freedom. And paradoxically, by stepping into adulthood, he is finally allowed to reclaim something he was robbed of: childhood. Thus he receives a huge Teddy Bear from the athlete.
(chapter 83) The toy from his childhood had vanished, probably thrown away because it had lost its role and doc Dan had no longer the time to play. At the same time, we should question ourselves who had offered it to doc Dan.
(chapter 47)
The man who had to shoulder debts, bills, and survival before he even finished school now gets to experience what ordinary children take for granted — wearing a headband, tasting ice cream, pointing excitedly toward the next ride.
His joy is not childish; it is restorative. It is the healing of a stage of life he never truly lived. And with every shift of light and fresh air, a new part of Dan awakens — his agency, his boldness, his playfulness, even his shy but stubborn desires.
(chapter 83) And this awakening has another consequence: for the first time, money disappears as a source of fear.
Dan, who used to feel uncomfortable in front of presents or at the slightest expense, suddenly moves with ease.
(chapter 83) He accepts the fighter’s generosity without guilt
(chapter 83), yet offers his own in return — buying the drinks, fetching the ice cream, participating in the flow of giving rather than shrinking from it.
(chapter 83) No one questions cost; no one frames affection as financial burden. This reciprocity is gentle, natural, unspoken. It stands in stark contrast to Heesung
(chapter 32), who immediately reduced generosity to calculation. He implied that doc Dan couldn’t afford it. His smile was a lure; his kindness, a transaction.
But with Jaekyung, Dan is not a debtor or a burden. Money stops being a battlefield. He is simply someone who can say yes and accept a huge Teddy Bear.
(chapter 83) In fact, he loves the “gift”. He is someone who can offer something back (the drink, but also concerns
(chapter 83) Someone who can choose.
Here, in the sunlit corners of the amusement park, the therapist is no longer the boy
(chapter 65) who was forced into adulthood nor the adult who was treated like a child. He is finally both:
(chapter 83) That’s the reason why Mingwa placed a boy with his father between the couple in this image. At the same time, she also insinuated that Joo Jaekyung was acting not only as a father, but also as a “boy”. That’s why love is in the air… they come to accept their true self. The two protagonists are both adults and kids!
Now, doc Dan is free enough to play and enjoy the rides
(chapter 83), and respected enough to lead. And in that rare space, something long dormant begins to bloom, the return of the little boy’s innocence and smile!
(chapter 83) “Love is in the air, In the whisper of the trees” Keep in mind that according to my interpretation, the tree embodies the physical therapist.
Just two people sharing the cost of a shared day — naturally, effortlessly, without negotiation. It is a small detail, but it signals a tectonic emotional shift: he no longer sees himself as someone who must earn affection through restraint, sacrifice, or poverty. He no longer sees himself as a burden!
Joo Jaekyung — “Love is in the air, in the thunder of the sea”
If Dan awakens in air, Jaekyung is pulled, almost violently, toward water.
(chapter 83) The second half of the verse — “in the thunder of the sea” — finds its embodiment not in waves or ocean spray, but in a wooden flying boat swinging high above an amusement park.
(chapter 83) It is here, of all places, that the façade of the undefeated champion bends, flickers, and reveals the frightened boy hiding beneath the man.
(chapter 83)
At first, the athlete walks through the park with a confidence bordering on theatrical. He speaks like someone who knows the rules of amusement rides
(chapter 83), although the knowledge is borrowed, second-hand, quoted from “the guys at the gym.” He buys cute headbands
(chapter 83), pays for almost everything
(chapter 83), selects a giant teddy bear as a prize. He tries to perform adulthood, to appear experienced, reliable, worldly — the one who leads. That’s why his reaction after the ride on the boat resembles a lot to the father: scared of rides
(chapter 83) And yet this performance is delicate. One touch is all it takes to fracture it.
(chapter 83) Because the truth is that Jaekyung, too, is both an adult and a child. Thus the author used many “chibi” in this chapter:
(chapter 83) He is the man who finances the day, but also the boy who has never stepped inside an amusement park.
(chapter 83) He is the warrior who never loses, but also the boy who becomes jealous of a rollercoaster because it made Dan smile.
(chapter 83) He is the emperor of the ring, but also the boy whose innocence was stolen far too early through neglect, violence, and trauma.
This duality surfaces even during the ride moves.
(chapter 83) When he sees Dan laughing with the wind in his hair, he is first moved.
(chapter 83) For the first time, he truly notices the doctor’s joy and happiness. However, later his thoughts tighten into a childish pout:
(chapter 83) The jealousy is not malicious — it is heartbreakingly sincere. It belongs to someone who has never been the source of gentle affection. Someone who has always been valued for power, not warmth. Someone whose earliest memories taught him that attention comes only when he performs. What he fails to notice that he is still behind the doctor’s happiness. How so? It is because he was the one who had suggested this trip!!
But let’s return our attention to the boat, the ride who combines water and air. The great athlete — the dragon of the cage, the man who terrifies opponents simply by standing in front of them — folds inward like a frightened child.
(chapter 83) As the ride swings, his fingers clamp around the safety bar, his head drops, his breathing stutters, and his posture collapses into defensive instinct. The motion is too familiar. Too close to something his body remembers even when his mind tries to forget. One might think, it is related to his fear of fall. However, it is only partially true. His dizziness on the flying boat is not simply fear of a ride, nor the comedic reversal of roles between the fearless champion and the timid therapist. It is the physical echo of a lifetime of trauma — the kind the body never forgets.
A fighter’s training does not harden the vestibular system; it punishes it. Years of repeated blows
(chapter 72)— even those that fall short of a diagnosable concussion — accumulate inside the inner ear like invisible fractures. The system responsible for balance, spatial orientation, and visual stabilization becomes worn, over-calibrated to impact but under-prepared for fluctuation. A man can be conditioned to withstand punches that would floor an ordinary person, yet still falter when the world tilts beneath him.
This is exactly what we witness on the flying boat. Jaekyung turns pale long before the motion becomes violent. His breathing shifts. His body stiffens. He clings to the safety bar not out of embarrassment, but because his senses are betraying him. These are classic signs of vestibular sensitivity — the lightheadedness, the nausea triggered by visual motion, the momentary whiteouts where vision loses stability, the delayed recovery after sudden shifts in height. Boxers experience it. Wrestlers experience it. MMA fighters live with it. But Jaekyung’s case carries a sharper edge.
Because his vulnerability is not merely the byproduct of sport. 
It carries the ghost of childhood instability — the disorientation of being struck by someone who should have protected him, the instinctive bracing for impact, the nights when the world spun not from amusement but from fear.
(chapter 72) The body he trained into steel was built upon a nervous system shaped by violence. Let’s not forget that before his father died, the latter hit his head with a bottle once again.
(chapter 73) Finally, he started fighting at such a young age,
(chapter 72), actually boxing at such a young age is limited to non-contact activities like footwork drills, shadowboxing, jump rope, basic strength & coordination, bag work with very light gloves. So there is no sparring, no head contact.
(chapter 72)
It can survive force, but unpredictability — the rocking of a boat, the sudden drop of a height — awakens old alarms he never learned to silence. And now, you comprehend why Mingwa placed this panel just before they got on the boat!
(chapter 83) This is what his father should have done in the past.
This is why the flying boat becomes his “thunder of the sea.” Not a thrill. A warning.
While Dan rises with the air
(chapter 83) — light, joyful, awakened — Jaekyung is dragged back toward the element he once drowned in. His dizziness is the somatic memory of a boy who learned to endure chaos by stillness, who now finds himself unable to breathe when the world refuses to stay still.
And yet, even after this destabilizing moment, the athlete refuses to give up
(chapter 83), thus they try other rides. It is important, because it implies that Joo Jaekyung is gradually leaving the water! This explicates why later something extraordinary happens.
(chapter 83) He opens one eye — just one — and in that tiny gesture, the entire emotional axis of the chapter tilts. It is not the instinct of a fighter checking his surroundings; it is the instinct of a man searching for someone. The flying boat lurches beneath him, the air rushing past in violent arcs, yet all his focus narrows to a single point of stillness: Kim Dan.
(chapter 83) This moment mirrors Dan’s earlier “sunrise” panel, but in reverse. Where Dan’s face emerged from shadow into light, Jaekyung’s eye emerges from strain into clarity.
Where Dan stepped into awakening, Jaekyung clings to consciousness, seeking an anchor.
And that is why this panel is so quietly devastating. He does not open his eye to judge the ride or assess danger;
he opens it to find the lightness he cannot produce within himself, due to the guilt he is carrying in himself.
He is pale, dizzy, destabilized — the seat rocks like a wave he cannot fight — and instinctively, his gaze reaches outward for the one thing that steadies him. And there he sees it:
Dan smiling. Dan at ease. Dan radiant in the wind.
(chapter 83)
It hits him like a beam of sunlight breaking through nausea, fear, and vertigo.
(chapter 83) In the song’s language, this is his “rising of the sun” moment — not because he feels lightness, but because he perceives it in someone else. The warmth he cannot generate becomes visible in the face of the man beside him.
For Dan, love rises like morning.
For Jaekyung, love enters like light through a crack — a single opened eye.
And in that sliver of brightness, he breathes again. It is a pure parallel to the song’s line — “Love is in the air, everywhere I look around” — because that is exactly what he does: he looks around, and his gaze lands on Dan. The doctor’s smile becomes the only stable point in the shifting world. Jaekyung’s competitiveness, his jealousy of the rollercoaster, his greed for Dan’s smile — all of it collapses into something softer once his body falters.
For the first time, he allows himself to rely on someone else. To conclude, the ride — with its water-like arcs and unpredictable shifts — becomes a symbolic reenactment of the environment that shaped him. This is the song’s “thunder of the sea”: violent motion, destabilizing memory, fear disguised as nausea.
Yet despite his struggle, something remarkable awakens. Joo Jaekyung is still enjoying his time with his fated partner. Thus he wished to stay longer there.
(chapter 83) It is because he enjoys listening to doc Dan. He enjoys his voice and words. This is not the internal voice of a fighter; it is the voice of someone falling in love without yet understanding how strong his feelings are.
He is too dizzy to perform adulthood, too overwhelmed to hide behind rank or reputation. The fragility he has always repressed leaks through every line of his body — and for the first time, he lets it. Thus he follows his heart and wins a huge teddy bear and buys headbands.
To conclude, the flying boat marks the moment
(chapter 83),when Joo Jaekyung is stripped of his armor. The amusement park returns him to something raw, trembling, unfinished. But instead of shame, there is warmth. Instead of anger, there is gratitude.
(chapter 83) Instead of retreat, there is reaching — a quiet but unmistakable reaching toward the man beside him. The problem is that he is still too scared to voice his thoughts in front of the physical therapist.
This represents another step of Jaekyung’s transformation: the shift from solitary dragon to partner, from survivor to someone who longs to be understood. And here, the parallel with his earlier metaphor becomes striking.
Back in Chapter 29, he described challengers as hyenas nipping at his heels
, (chapter 29) a swarm of predators waiting for him to slow down. His career was an ocean of teeth and waves — constant motion, constant danger. Thus I detected a progression. In episode 69, he jumped onto the boat
(chapter 69), then at the amusement park, the boat was in the air
(chapter 83) Thus I deduce that the boat is “the last wave” he rides.
Once it stops, his world no longer moves with the violence of water. When he ascends the Ferris wheel
(chapter 83), he rises into air — the first air he has breathed without fear.
He leaves the sea behind. He leaves the waves of fighters behind. He leaves the ocean of survival behind. Therefore I am sensing that the athlete is about to change his career and path. He will stop acting as a fighter only. That moment of ascent — quiet, suspended, pink-lit — is the moment he finally becomes what he was always meant to be: not prey chased across waves, not a beast trapped in turbulence, but a dragon lifting into the sky.
And the first breath of that ascent — the first hint of air entering lungs long constrained — begins beside Dan, in a gently swinging gondola at sunset.
The two men meet there in the subtle overlap between air and sea —
between awakening and unraveling,
between lightness and instability,
between childhood and adulthood.
The whisper of the trees meets the thunder of the sea.
And the love that neither can yet name floats quietly between them.
The Ferris Wheel — Where Dream and Reality Finally Meet
The emotional architecture of Chapter 83 only reveals its full depth when placed beside the earlier night-and-morning dyad of Chapters 44 and 45. Those chapters form a pair of opposites: a false dream
(chapter 44) followed by a false dawn. Chapter 44 unfolds in artificial night — neon
(chapter 44) and night lamp
(chapter 44) — a landscape where nothing is stable and nothing is truly felt. Jaekyung is drunk, his consciousness slipping in and out of awareness; Dan, overwhelmed and inexperienced (when it comes to relationship), projects meaning onto a moment that cannot hold it. He wishes time would “stand still,” but he is wishing against reality. The entire scene is built on one-sided desire. The intimacy is sensory, not emotional. Dan longs to “get to know”
(chapter 44) someone who is not present, rather drunk. But getting to know someone means communication. It is precisely the illusion captured in the song’s confession: I don’t know if I’m just dreaming… I don’t know if I see it true… And he wasn’t seeing it true; he was dreaming alone.
Then comes Chapter 45 — cruel daylight, harsh and flat, the sun stripped of warmth.
(chapter 45) Morning light becomes a scalpel. There is no magic left, no gentleness, no room for misunderstanding. Jaekyung’s bluntness
(chapter 45) annihilates the illusion Dan had constructed the night before. This is not heartbreak; it is disenchantment, the almost physical pain of realizing a moment meant nothing to the other person involved. Chapter 44 was the dream, and Chapter 45 was its punishment. Together they show a relationship out of sync, two people whose desires never touch at the same time. One wishes for home and attention, while the other has no idea that he is loved. So far, he has never heard this: “I love you”. One tries to reach out emotionally, while the other remains absent. However, when they are both lucid, none of them are totally honest, as they are self confused. Thus they are in two different worlds.
Chapter 83 is the first time those worlds merge. Hence we have the purple sky!
(chapter 83) This scene confirmed my previous interpretation about the symbolism of the blue/golden hour. 
Everything that failed in Chapters 44 and 45 is repaired — not by repetition, but by transformation.
(chapter 83) The setting is no longer artificial night nor cold morning. It is true daylight — warm, golden, forgiving. Both men are fully conscious. Both are vulnerable. Both are honest. Both are sober. And for the first time, both want the same thing at the same time. This mutuality is the quiet miracle that turns an ordinary Ferris wheel cabin into a sacred emotional space. When Dan looks toward the horizon and murmurs,
(chapter 83), the wolf thinks, with disarming sincerity, he is thankful toward the physical therapist. ” The wish that destroyed them in Chapter 44 now binds them together in Chapter 83. Suspended high in the sky, they share the same breath, the same light, the same fragile desire. This is where John Paul Young’s lyrics finally find their home: And I don’t know if I’m being foolish… don’t know if I’m being wise… but it’s something that I must believe in… and it’s there when I look in your eyes. And now it is the champion’s turn to become brave and confess his feelings to doc Dan, but like it was just revealed: Joo Jaekyung refused to repeat his confession!
(chapter 83)
And the Ferris wheel forces them to talk to each other and face that truth. Unlike that night when Jaekyung could simply roll over and fall asleep, or that morning when Dan could retreat into silence, the Ferris wheel offers no escape route. They are trapped together — enclosed, elevated, suspended. Neither can walk away.
(chapter 45) Neither can pretend not to feel. Neither can avoid the other’s gaze. They must see each other as they are, in that moment. And miraculously, neither flinches. There is no denial, no deflection, no cruelty. Only two men who finally dare to look. Whereas Chapter 44 let them hide behind darkness and drunkenness, and Chapter 45 forced them into cold exposure, Chapter 83 holds them in a gentle, suspended in-between: the space where dream and reality finally meet.
And Mingwa gives this moment a witness
(chapter 83) — the enormous Teddy Bear Jaekyung won earlier that day. In the cramped Ferris wheel cabin, the bear sits with them, silent and soft, absorbing every unspoken emotion. It becomes the guardian of the day’s truth, the counterweight to the night of Chapter 44. Nothing from this moment can be denied, rewritten, or dismissed as drunken illusion. The bear remembers. It carries the warmth of Dan’s rediscovered childhood, the soreness of Jaekyung’s fear on the boat, the sweetness of their awkwardness, the courage of their mutual wish. Later, when Dan sees the bear again, he will remember not the fear of falling, not the dizziness, not the awkwardness — but the moment Jaekyung looked at him and apologized to him. Hence later the doctor is seen looking at his present
(chapter 84) and holding the bear’s hand.
(chapter 84) The bear contains the view, the sunset, the air, the honesty — everything that neither of them can run away from now.
This is why the Ferris wheel scene is more than a romantic interlude; it is a structural correction of the narrative wound created in Chapters 44 and 45. It does not repeat the night. It redeems it. It heals the morning. It merges the suspended magic of Chapter 44 with the daylight honesty of Chapter 45 — but only because both are willing, present, open. For the first time, their timing aligns. For the first time, neither is dreaming alone. For the first time, love is truly in the air, not as fantasy nor delusion, but as a shared, breathing reality. But wait… in episode 84, there is no “I like you,” no dramatic declaration, no romance in words. So it looks like my association was wrong.
(chapter 84) Instead, what rises between them is something quieter and far more intimate: penance. The fighter does not confess love; he confesses his faults. He does not offer desire; he offers regret. In Jinx, this is the deeper beginning of love, because an apology centers the other person’s pain rather than one’s own feelings. Then Jaekyung admits he was wrong, he gives Dan something far more valuable than a confession — he gives recognition. The hamster has rights, he can express his thoughts and feelings.
This is why the air in the cabin feels charged despite the lack of explicit emotion. Love appears not as a statement but as a change in behavior, a cessation of superiority, a willingness to repair what was broken. For the first time, they meet on equal ground: the athlete stripped of his dominance, the therapist freed from his habitual submission. Neither plays a role; both simply exist honestly in the same small space. They are both humans.
And in this suspended moment, John Paul Young’s refrain drifts quietly into the scene—not as music, but as meaning. Because what unfolds in the cabin is exactly the tension the song names:
“And I don’t know if I’m being foolish,
Don’t know if I’m being wise…”
Both men stand at that threshold. Dan is wise enough to hope again, hence he is holding the teddy bear’s hand
(chapter 84), but foolish enough to remain cautious and remain silent.
(chapter 84)
Jaekyung is foolish enough not repeat his words
(chapter 84)
(chapter 84), but wise enough to regret immediately.
(chapter 84) He is also wise enough to care deeply and repair instead of demand. Thus his apology feels so genuine.
Their intimacy is not built on certainty but on uncertainty bravely shared. Not on declarations, but on communication—hesitant, imperfect, but real. Not on fantasy, but on the courage to face each other without hiding. And that’s the common point between these two places in the air
(chapter 45)
(chapter 84)
(chapter 84) Both men are not brave enough to confess their true feelings to their fated partner. Hence both came to regret their actions.
(chapter 46)
(chapter 46) The champion also played “dumb”. Thus the pillow got punched later.
(chapter 84) He shouldn’t have thrown away his “feelings”. So by rubbing the hand of the toy, doc Dan is gradually expressing the return of “his greed and hope”.
The Ferris wheel becomes the place where foolishness and wisdom merge, where vulnerability replaces power, and where air itself begins to carry the shape of a future neither of them can yet name…but both can finally feel.
I was almost finished, when chapter 84 got released. Hence I could enrich the last part.

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



(chapter 81) The plane soars not only above the Alps, but also above a vast river (probably the Rhône)— two landscapes that silently echo the dual composition of breath itself. Breath is made of air and water: oxygen and vapor, wind and moisture.
(chapter 82) In that sense, the clouds surrounding the aircraft are not mere weather; they are the perfect union of the two elements that sustain life.
(chapter 82) That’s why, when Potato offers him a bottle of Evian, he doesn’t even look. He doesn’t need the water from the mountain and as such the world; he needs the water of the body — the intimacy, the shared moisture that reconnects him to life itself. What he truly longs for is Kim Dan’s saliva, the living trace of water transformed into affection, into care, into exchange.
(chapter 81) He is longing for his lips and as such a kiss.
(chapter 15)
(chapter 82) Many attractions — the Ferris wheel, the fountain rides, the water park zones — combine air and water, height and spray, just like breath itself. And now, you understand why the champion got wounded with the spray
(chapter 49) It corresponds to the negative version of the “breath”.
(epilogue), because doc Dan wants to ensure that the drink or the ice cream is okay.
(chapter 82) When Jaekyung and Dan enter the funfair, they’re not simply having fun; they’re reliving the chemistry of respiration and affection — the inhalation of joy, the exhalation of fear, the splash of renewal. The park becomes an externalized lung, a circular world of rides where water and air, play and life, are finally reconciled.
(chapter 15) The arena that once fed on pain, blood, and hierarchy gives way to a landscape of shared laughter, circular motion, and renewal. Here, entertainment is not built upon the exhaustion of bodies but upon their liberation. The crowd no longer watches to see who will fall; they rise and descend together.
(chapter 82) People are more focused on their own emotions and experiences.
I placed the doctor’s birthday. And that’s how I remembered here the boy’s huge smile and joy.
(chapter 11) And now, pay attention to the number of the next episode: 83! The two numbers combined together make 11! As you can see, the amusement park is the most natural setting for a smile and kiss. Joo Jaekyung could even speak about his first kiss, an intimate secret that even Kim Dan doesn’t know. Confessing it there would align his personal myth with the fairy-tale architecture around him. This would make doc Dan realize that he is special contrary to the green-haired ex-lover.
(chapter 42). But there’s more to it. In episode 81, Doc Dan rejects the champion’s advance — he turns his head away
(chapter 81) letting the lips slip past him like water. Yet, in the very same scene, he allows a kiss on the neck, a place where breath, warmth, and pulse converge.
(chapter 81) He never pushes him back. The doctor resists with the face — with speech, with identity — but not with the body.
(chapter 81) Why? Because the lips are not mere flesh; for Doc Dan, they are the visible border between desire and love. Jinx-lovers will remember his quiet request in the locker room (chapter 15): he links the lips to the heart — and through it, to the notion of consent.
(chapter 15) To kiss him there is to ask for entry not into his body, but into his feeling.
(chapter 81) The water envelops them both — fluid, intimate — yet the final element is still missing: agreement, the meeting of air and will. Until Jaekyung learns to ask, to replace taking with invitation, the kiss will remain suspended, like a breath held underwater, waiting to surface into love. And now, you comprehend why he couldn’t achieve his goal in the swimming pool. It was, as if he was trying to recreate the situation in season 1. In other words, I deduce that there will be a confession before a kiss happens!!
(chapter 17) and the one in front of the amusement park:
(chapter 82) The two scenes mirror each other like opposite poles of Joo Jaekyung’s evolution. In both, he is dressed in black — a color that once signified anonymity and danger, but later becomes the mark of calm confidence.
(chapter 17) When he intervenes to save Kim Dan from the loan sharks, he is first mistaken for one of them — a predator among predators. The irony is sharp: the man who comes to rescue looks indistinguishable from those who harm. The fighters’ world has taught him that power and fame must be hidden; he was encouraged to hide, as if the fans would attack him. He chose anonymity, unaware that this would not only isolate him but also make him appear as a thug. And don’t forget how the manager called him initially:
(chapter 75) He is a monster. It was, as if the manager wanted to hide the “wolf” from people out of fear that he might attack people randomly. But the problem is that by dressing like that, he was no different from Heo Manwook. Therefore his heroism passes unnoticed, interpreted as violence and intrusion.
(chapter 18) Like Batman, he moves in secrecy, protecting without ever being thanked. The outfit explains why his good deed leaves no trace of gratitude — the savior looks like the aggressor.
(chapter 82) He still wears black, but the darkness no longer hides him. The cap now sits higher, revealing his eyes and mouth — the organs of emotion and speech. A necklace gleams at his throat, a quiet emblem of openness. He walks beside Kim Dan in daylight, not to fight but to share joy. The man who once lurked in alleys now stands beneath the sky of the amusement park, where black absorbs light rather than extinguishes it.
(chapter 17) A princeling! He was mocking him, because he knew that the fights were actually rigged. That’s why he called him fake.
(chapter 17) This new connection reinforces my theory that the schemers are anticipating the Emperor’s demise.
(chapter 82) Thus Arnaud Gabriel’s words are full of irony. There’s no luck in this match. However, the antagonists are not anticipating a metamorphosis. The wolf hides and strikes; the prince reveals and protects. The wolf saves without witnesses; the prince loves in full view. In the ring’s darkness he fought to survive; in the park’s brightness he learns to live and love. And the moment Joo Jaekyung is freed from his curse and can breathe, his next game will be different. Why? It is because the champion has another reason to make doc Dan’s wish to come true: they should work together for a long time! And observe the power of Doc Dan’s angel on the Emperor after spending his first night with his “bride”. He was full of energy! 
(chapter 65) so he is not standing on his own two feet. And remember that according to me, Shin Okja stands for shore. He is smiling as if everything is fine, but the reality is different. When Dan sits on her lap wearing the duck shirt, he seems safe, grounded, “held.” Yet the shore (the halmoni) isn’t truly stable — it’s brittle earth pretending to resist erosion. She gives him the illusion of safety, not the reality of it. The hydrangeas stand for temporality. The body contact replaces emotional transparency. What he learns in that moment is: “If I stay still and quiet, she’ll hold me.” Thus, his first emotional rule becomes immobility and silence. That is how the floating duck is born — not by moving freely in water, but by learning to suppress movement to preserve attachment.
(chapter 56) He doesn’t yet see the storm and suffering beneath.
(chapter 82) But in such a place, it is, as if time was stopped. Thanks to the many emotions and sensations, his body and heart will be revived. Through fun, the duck will change. As Kim Dan ascends from floating duck to swimmer and to a flying duck, he moves from hidden suffering to open breath. Thus the Ferris Wheel will have definitely an impact on him. Both arcs revolve around air and water — the two elements that make up breath and emotion. Don’t forget that the doctor embodies the clouds as well, while the athlete stands for steam.


“The Return of the Emp”, I had to pause. Something in it refused to make sense — or perhaps, it made too much sense. Here stands the celebrity fighter alone, shirtless, his upper body carved out of darkness, while a faint cloud floats behind him accompanied by a hidden spotlight. Beneath him glows the number 317, a detail too deliberate to be accidental. And yet, where is the opponent? Every previous MFC poster — from Randy Booker’s green inferno
(chapter 13)
(chapter 40) to Baek Junmin’s red blaze
(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 81) So why is he not placed in the poster? Does he fear comparison — or has someone decided that no comparison should be allowed? Each missing element feels intentional — the kind of silence that makes the viewer uneasy, as though something essential was being hidden in plain sight.
(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 81) According to Oh Daehyun, his goal is not victory but visibility — to be crowned the hottest male athlete.
(chapter 30) The latter had to learn fighting in order to play his role in the drama Extreme Worlds
(chapter 29).
(chapter 81), while in reality a “storm” is actually coming.
(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
(chapter 62), humility
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 69), only to discover that ownership without recognition is hollow. Even with the title, his name barely circulates in the media.
(chapter 77) MFC can not promote him so easily, as his title could get questioned. He remains unseen — a champion without a face.
(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 54) The wolf is wrapped not in triumph, but in the faint perfume of something dying beautifully. He is shown before his decomposition, which reminds us of his father’s fate:
(chapter 73)
(chapter 74) The dense, rising smoke recalls the funeral altar we once saw during Joo Jaewoon’s death scene — white blossoms, a dark frame, and a half-erased face. The emperor’s comeback has been reframed as his own commemoration: a legend embalmed in monochrome.
(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) If you have read my previous essay, you’ll remember that I connected the arc of chapters 80 to 89 to the theme of jealousy. Baek Junmin embodies that poison completely. His words — “
(chapter 49) “kid”, “coward,” “chicken”
(chapter 73) Both men are haunted by the same delusion: that to win, one must erase the other.
(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 81) The team’s black-and-white uniform
(chapter 81)
(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 54), the match where the Emperor faced Baek Junmin. That small arithmetic gap hides something extraordinary: eighteen events have supposedly taken place since then, in barely three months. Such acceleration borders on absurdity. It feels less like a sports calendar than a purge — as if the federation were rushing to overwrite history, to bury the memory of its fallen champion beneath a flood of new numbers.
(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 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 81) Arnaud Gabriel is totally unpredictable which makes him dangerous but also weak. So what happens when the athlete uses a totally different strategy? The eagle will get caught by surprise. Thus in the past, we have to envision that the wolf was the mechanical man, iron and fire, surviving by destruction. Bruce Lee’s middle path—instinct guided by awareness—is the only way out of this binary. That’s why the story moves him from steel to steam, from panic to presence.
(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 81) with the key chain represents now his motivation. Thus he resembles more and more to the physical therapist.
8chapter 81) Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the athlete has not confessed his feelings yet. In my eyes, the confession will be strongly connected to the imminent match. In other words, by spending time with the physical therapist, the Emperor regained his voice and body. He can now express himself in the ring, making sure to catch doc Dan’s gaze and admiration. And now, you comprehend why I mentioned that Joo Jaekyung will come to see this fight as a source of strength and inspiration: it will be more about love and recognition from his loved one than the money or hatred from the audience.
, I came to imagine that the athlete might strike him like “water”, hard enough to make him lose the balance and defeat him, but not too strong to damage his knee for good.
(chapter 17) And once the cloud (doc Dan) meets the steam 

(chapter 76) This admission is no mere reversal of pride. It gestures toward something Jaekyung has never known: an exchange that does not end in domination or silence, but in dialogue. For Kim Dan, too, it marks a turning point.
(chapter 76) For the first time, he uses the expression you’re right in front of his fated partner. He seems to concede with this idiom. Yet this apparent submission hides a deeper reversal. By admitting Jaekyung never asked for his help, he redirects the exchange toward his own truth: the loneliness of having no one to care for you.
(chapter 76) What unfolds in the kitchen is not a quarrel about porridge but a fragile recognition. Dan’s “You’re right” acknowledges Jaekyung’s perspective without bitterness, while Jaekyung’s “I lost”
(chapter 9)
(chapter 76) The kitchen scene closes one cycle and announces another.
(Chapter 76) In this view, his fixation would be the product of ambition, pride, or ego: the expected cost of survival in a cage where only victory pays.
(chapter 76), because the adults in his life cut them off before they could exist. Winning became his only mode of survival because every formative argument in his youth ended in defeat, and not the kind decided by a referee. With his father, mother, coach, and manager, words never led to recognition — only to insult, silence, utility, or obedience. He learned early that dialogue could not protect him; only victory could. His victories were not chosen freely, but forced into being by guardians who made him feel like a burden, until relationships themselves became burdens.
(chapter 73) He was a loser because of his mother. To lose meant humiliation and rejection; to speak at all meant to invite contempt. The only possible rebuttal was victory — to prove through strength that he was not the pathetic, worthless child his father saw in him. Winning became his sole argument against a man who would never listen, the only way to resist being branded a loser.
“(chapter 73). It was not just defiance; it was a vow that victory would silence abuse once and for all. When he returned with the trophy, he shouted triumphantly,
(chapter 73) ready at last to claim, “I was right.” Yet reality betrayed him. His father’s death denied him the only acknowledgment he had sought.
(chapter 74) At the funeral he remained dry-eyed, his face locked in shame (ch. 74). No one saw his guilt, but it consumed him: the one man he needed to hear “I was right” from could no longer answer. At the same time, his smile and laugh were also linked to misery. For Jaekyung, laughter was never the sound of joy, but the echo of mockery and rejection due to the father. Just as tears became tied to betrayal and abandonment through his mother, so too did his father twist laughter into a weapon
(chapter 72) To the boy, she was not silent at first: she must have definitely told him to become strong, to endure, to wait. She gave him her number, leaving the illusion that her departure was not abandonment but necessity. Victory and wealth became her conditions for love. That is why he swore over the payphone to work hard
(chapter 72) and “make money” so she could return, and why after his father’s death he still hoped for her homecoming.
(chapter 74) But when the calls went unanswered, her silence became the sharpest weapon of all. Her eventual reply
(chapter 74) confirmed that his effort had never mattered. For the first time, he cried
(chapter 74), his tears expressed not just grief but the recognition of betrayal. From then on, tears themselves became equated with loss, weakness, and abandonment. This is why, in the wolf’s nightmare, Dan’s crying form
(chapter 76) appears: the sight of tears recalls the moment he unconsciously realized that even his mother’s “you’re right” was a lie. At the same time, those tears function as a mirror. The champion projects onto Dan the very weakness he has always forbidden himself to show.
(chapter 76), the boy he once was who longed to weep but had to swallow it down. At the same time, Jaekyung himself occupies the place of the “adult” —
(chapter 74) Hence the wolf’s tears were quickly replaced by rage and violence.
(chapter 74)
(chapter 76) His trembling hand upon waking
(chapter 76) shows the yearning to be held, comforted, reassured — something he never received from either parent. He is not entirely responsible for the physical therapist’s suffering. And here lies the difference: Dan’s tears are not manipulative or hypocritical , like the ones Jaekyung suspects from his mother, but unfiltered honesty. He expressed his emotions, not just through tears, but also through body language!
(chapter 1) He was shaking, he was bowing and asking for forgiveness! Dan embodies a form of vulnerability that is real, legible, and forgiving contrary to the mother. When the teenager heard his mother’s voice after such a long time, the latter never brought up her past action. She never asked him for forgiveness.
(chapter 74), whose quiet devotion and silence kept the gym alive, nor Jaekyung’s, whose absence he accepted without challenge.
(chapter 72) In fact, his own mother’s submission reinforced this flaw: her blind trust in her son, her refusal to question his choices and the boxing world, taught him that authority need not be examined, only endured or seen as trustworthy. For him, hierarchy was unquestionable, and so he perpetuated it. Thus he stands for lack of critical thinking. This is why, with Hwang, the vocabulary of “right” and “wrong” was never about dialogue but about obedience. No wonder why he became so violent at the police station.
(chapter 74) Unlike Jaewoon’s domination or the mother’s evasive silence, Hwang cloaked his authority in the language of advice — yet beneath it lay a black-and-white dualism: winners and losers, villains and victims. Thus Joo Jaewoon was blamed for becoming a thug
(chapter 74), while the wolf’s mother was a victim. He viewed her as a selfless and caring mother:
(chapter 74)And observe how he provoked the main lead.
(chapter 74) When Hwang sneers, “What, am I wrong? Come on, answer me!” he is not inviting dialogue — he is staging a trap. The question is rhetorical, a demand for submission. Let’s not forget that he had witnessed the phone call in front of the funeral hall, but back then he had done nothing. And when the boy hesitates
(chapter 74), unable to answer, Hwang strikes him in the chest.
(chapter 74)and justifies his action behind social norms.
(chapter 74) In that instant, he takes the role of judge, referee, and executioner, collapsing “argument” into violence. The very words “Am I wrong?” contain the irony: the coach is less interested in truth than in reasserting his own authority. Silence is treated as guilt, hesitation as defeat.
(chapter 74), he effectively admitted “you’re right” to the coach. Yet this wasn’t simply genuine agreement — it was submission, respect mixed with survival. The director misread it as validation of his worldview. This only reinforced his certainty, encouraging him never to reconsider his role.
(chapter 74) When the protagonist finally left, the director could declare with satisfaction:
t(chapter 74).
(chapter 74) The reality was that the old man had never truly become the star’s home and family, which explains why he constantly leaned on other adults, the mother or the father, to provide the guidance he himself refused to give. At the same time, I come to the following deduction: he must have lost his boxing studio, and with its vanishing, the elder was forced to face “reality”: loneliness, sickness and absence of happiness in his life!
(chapter 70) Once again, Jaekyung is reduced to “that bastard” — a label, not a person — while Dan is framed as the pitiable victim. The old coot remains the righteous observer, untouched by guilt, protected by a rhetoric that always shifts responsibility elsewhere.
(chapter 75) He was happy again, though he initially tried to hide it. We have to envision that before the wolf’s visit, the elder had to face what his own life outside the gym looked like: sickness, solitude, the collapse of the studio that had sustained him and came to resent the main lead. Yet, Joo Jaekyung’s behavior changed everything:
(chapter 71)
(chapter 71) Only during the champion’s visit, did his words alter.On the rooftop of the hospice, he finally tells Jaekyung:
(chapter 75) This shift did not come from wisdom gained in the ring but from loss — the loss of health, the loss of the gym, the loss of illusions — and from Jaekyung’s loyalty, which pierced through his blindness. Interesting is that this time, he doesn’t give the answer to the athlete. He stops thinking “I’m right, you’re wrong”. He treats him as an adult, as a mature and thoughtful person. Through that fidelity, Hwang glimpsed at last what he had denied both himself and Jaekyung for decades: that victory alone cannot sustain a life.
(chapter 76) It is not too late. The question “Am I too late?” is the consequence of Hwang byungchul’s words and it gradually indicates the switch in the champion’s mentality. It is no longer about being right or wrong. However, the nightmare reveals another aspect: the world is not black and white, but grey.
(chapter 76) Hence he remained silent and avoided his gaze. But like the director showed it, it is never too late:
(chapter 76)
(chapter 69) Thus my avid readers might jump to the conclusion that his biggest flaw is blindness, similar to the director. Besides, I had often criticized him for his blindness and ignorance. However, this is just a deception. The manager’s real defect is actually his deafness. How so? He does not hear Jaekyung’s words
(chapter 31) in good
(chapter 45) or in bad times. It goes so far, he does not take his silences seriously, and does not register his pain. This explicates why the manager saw in the champion’s silence at the restaurant as an agreement for a new fight!
(chapter 69) His role is not to guide or protect, but to extract: money, victories, publicity.
(chapter 75) In my opinion, he is fighting against oblivion through the star. This hidden disability explains why the coach can never truly connect with the champion. He listens instead to other voices – the CEO of MFC
(chapter 69), the rumors among the directors
(chapter 46), the media
(chapter 52), the sponsors
(chapter 41), the spectators or “authorities”
(chapter 36) — and reacts to them, even violently, as in chapter 52, when public criticism painted Jaekyung in a negative light.
(chapter 52) The slap was less about Jaekyung’s behavior than about Namwook’s own fear of outside judgment. He was not listening to the man in front of him but to the noise around him. He feared losing control in the end, especially after the athlete’s words let transpire his true position at the gym:
(chapter 52) His question is not mere anger. It is a confession of position — an inadvertent acknowledgment that he knows he is the true backbone of the gym. He is the one responsible, the one carrying the burden that Namwook refuses to admit. These words crack the illusion: the fighter is not subordinate, but owner. The gym lives because of him.
(chapter 52) He acted as a child, faked “tears” in order to use empathy to his advantage.
(chapter 71), hence he tried to help in his own way. On the other hand, Park Namwook shows clearly no sign to be interested in the private life of his boss. He is preferring ignorance over “knowledge and connection”.
(chapter 66) Despite the incident, the manager hasn’t changed yet. He clinched onto the past, thinking that everything will be like before, as soon as the athlete enters the ring. He images a return to normality with the next match.
(chapter 66) For years, he had accepted his manager’s judgments out of habit, mistaking silence for consent. But here, for the first time, the repetition feels deliberate — not resignation, but reflection (“though”). The phrase becomes a question more than an agreement: is he truly right? He is admitting this out of habit.
(chapter 69) His silence has shifted from obedience to suffocation. The weight of Namwook’s deaf authority is no longer bearable. And yet, even here, his confession is muted, confined to the private space of his car. He is not yet ready to speak the words aloud — not until someone appears who will listen.
(chapter 48) This scene was observed by Kwak Junbeom, so the latter could have reported it to the coach. If it truly happened, this would expose the coach’s deafness and cowardice. He chose passivity instead of confronting the doctor or the champion. That way, he avoided responsibility. And this brings me to my final conclusion concerning the deaf manager. His main way to contact the celebrity is the cellphone:
(chapter 66) It is both his mask and his crutch — a tool for barking orders, never for dialogue. The moment the line goes dead, his authority collapses, for he has no other means of contact. His power depends on Jaekyung’s reception, not his own strength. In truth, the manager’s disability is exposed here: deaf to Jaekyung’s voice, he has trained himself to hear only the ring of a phone. A fragile authority built on silence, ready to crumble the instant Jaekyung decides to switch it off.
(chapter 76) must be read not as pride, but as a desperate shield against annihilation. In other words, in episode 76, the athlete is too harsh on himself, though I am not saying that he is innocent either. He only thought of himself because he had taught to behave that way. He was just mirroring the adults surrounding him who hid their weaknesses and wrongdoings behind “lies, social norms and hierarchy”.
(chapter 57) With his grandmother and with every authority he encountered — doctors, employers, even predators — he believed unquestioningly that others were right and he was wrong. Hence he trusted others blindly. He was trained to accept decisions made for him or against him.
(chapter 70) Thus he accepts criticism with defending his own interest. He was not taught how to fight back or resist or even argue.
(chapter 1) He never tried to seek justice. His “you’re right” was not recognition but submission, the language of someone who could not afford to resist. In season one, this made their relationship combustible: Jaekyung spoke only in victory and as such submission, while Dan accepted every loss as natural. He also adopted this mind-set. On the other hand, because their initial interaction was based on a contract,
(chapter 6), both were forced to discuss with each other about the “content of the agreement”. That’s where the champion was trained to communciate with the physical therapist. Thanks to the champion, because of this victory/loss mentality, the doctor learned gradually to argue and “reply” with his “boss. However, due to his childhood, he couldn’t totally drop his old principles like for example “saying no”.
(chapter 34) To conclude, before their fateful meeting, neither man had learned how to argue as equals. But in the kitchen in front of the stove, this changed: both are right and wrong!
(chapter 76) He speaks like someone expecting rejection. Hence he keeps his distance. Yet the very fact that he says it at all signals change. Where once he would have doubled down — by barking an order, by firing Dan, by retreating into silence — he now admits defeat. The vocabulary of winning and losing, inherited from his father and reinforced by every adult in his life, collapses in the presence of Dan’s quiet honesty.
(chapter 76) — an acknowledgment that he can no longer keep his walls intact. He is now willing to rely on doc Dan exclusively.
(chapter 76). His confession reveals not strength but guilt. Kim Dan’s suffering was the price of his victories, and he knows it. “On the other hand, his mea culpa should be relativized, for both were the targets of a plot!
(chapter 76) These words expose both responsibility and shame: he had prioritized survival over connection, career over compassion. What boils under his skin is not pride but remorse.
(chapter 76) The star’s thoughts in the kitchen are actually mirroring the ones in the bathroom:
(chapter 68) In the bathtub, he still saw himself as the one in control, with the upper hand… but this is no longer the case in the kitchen. Through the physical therapist, the wolf is learning that even being in a vulnerable state doesn’t mean that this person is powerless. It is just that his “strength” lies elsewhere. In other words, someone struggling can also give comfort to another person in pain.
(chapter 72) a place of solitary consumption rather than shared meals, the bed was the place where the little boy would drink his milk.
(chapter 72) It is interesting that actually, Doc Dan wanted to bring the porridge to Joo Jaekyung to his bed during that full moon night, thus the latter made the following request:
(chapter 76) But the wolf didn’t understand the hamster’s intention and followed his “hyung” to the kitchen. That’s how a misunderstanding was born which is also reflected in this interaction:
(chapter 76) However, doc Dan agreed to this, he remained calm.
(chapter 41) The latter actually represented a hindrance between them, it marked their relationship: boss and “employee” (servant). Moreover, since the table in the champion’s childhood was linked to one person (the father), it is clear that the champion has never shared a table with someone. And this aspect brings me to my other observation.
(chapter 22) Whether in meetings, weigh-ins, or dinners with the CEO
(chapter 46) It was a place where others dictated terms, while Jaekyung’s silence was mistaken for consent. And now, you comprehend why the two main leads could get closer in front of the stove in the kitchen. This place stands for warmth, care and family.
(chapter 13) a meal after his collapse. He refused to bring a meal to the bed, he asked him to join in the dining room and sit at the table. And what did they do there? The champion talked about his career, his fight etc…
(chapter 13) the champion has long associated the table to business and not “care”. That’s why it is important for him to remember the significance of the bed in his childhood. It was the place where he could feel comfortable and safe, where he would eat! 

(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 30) lies a past left unspoken, a silence so complete that his own history became an empty space others could fill as they wished. This essay brings these two “stories” together — the Emperor and the boy. And now, you may be wondering how I came to connect the champion’s trauma to his future career as an MMA fighter. The answer lies in Joo Jaekyung’s own voice. 😮
(chapter 70), Hwang Byungchul’s anger fell squarely on the champion.
(chapter 70) To him, it looked as though Jaekyung had made the reckless choice to return to the ring so soon. That was the trap: the headline and phrasing were designed to make it appear that the decision was the fighter’s own. The opening line alone
(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 54) Back then, the champion had not reacted to this comment. Even in the worst case, the CEO can hide behind one of the MFC match managers or doctors.
(chapter 41) But that excuse would be a fiction: Jaekyung hasn’t even met those doctors or talked to the MFC match manager
(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 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 57) with one of his close associates — a man whose face was hidden, speaking as though he were the athlete’s voice. That interview was accompanied by a familiar victory image
(chapter 57), a stock photo already used in other press pieces. This picture comes from after the fight in the States:
(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 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 46) Most of them thought that by staying close to him, they could benefit from his popularity. To conclude, for many of them proximity to the Emperor wasn’t about learning discipline or technique; it was about absorbing his fame by osmosis. Hence they complained and accepted the gifts and money so easily.
(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 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 70) and more like a product: something to be displayed, sold, and, when necessary, handled roughly to keep in line. The shift in labels is just another layer of that merchandising process — a packaging change to suit the current market, not a recognition of the man inside. To conclude, the champion has always been voiceless all this time, even here:
(chapter 36)
(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 2) — a space where he could act without having to speak. In the bedroom, as in the ring, the body could carry the conversation. Here, he could dominate, control, and release tension without the risk of verbal damage. His partners became surrogate opponents: sparring substitutes in a non-lethal match. Treating them as “toys” wasn’t only objectification; it was a form of control that, in his mind, protected both sides. Toys don’t demand answers, don’t talk back, and don’t leave you cursed with regret. They remain safely outside the territory where his voice had once done harm.
(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) After years of associating speech with either silence or harm, receiving a long-winded, carefully written message felt almost unreal. He saw the effort behind it, the deliberate choice to put thoughts and emotions into language instead of letting them fade away or turn into weapons. In that card, Kim Dan offered something neither of his parents had managed: a voice that reached him without wounding. No silence, no insult. For the champion, it wasn’t just a card — it was proof that words could be built into a gift, not a curse. The latter expressed his dreams and gratitude. Thus I deduce that the Emperor’s curse will be broken by a spell: words!
(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 69) He was not too late either. And the moment doc Dan discovers what the silent hero has done for him so many times, the former will realize that he has always been special to the Emperor. Moreover, the latter had never abandoned him in the end.
, (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! 

51, 52, and 73 [I am excluding the match]—his role is far from minor. He is, in fact, one of the main invisible architects of the champion’s trauma and jinx, the one who once stood across from him on a night that would shape the course of both their lives. Long before he was known as the Shotgun, Baek Junmin might have pulled the trigger on something else entirely: the last remnant of Jaekyung’s innocence.
(chapter 73) Their violent encounter may have led to the vanishing of the young boy’s smile, replacing it with the hardened scowl of the Emperor, the tyrant in the ring.
(chapter 47) And yet, Baek Junmin reappears, not as a stranger, but as the remnant of a past that refuses to stay buried. Additionally, he appears only through the narration of others (fighter)
(chapter 73) — a gesture here, a line there
(chapter 73) to the man who resurfaces much later.
(chapter 47) This is how we catch glimpses of him — by holding the present up against the past, by noticing what has changed and what has stayed the same.
(chapter 49) Jaekyung’s ears mark him as a champion who faced real opponents in real matches, many of them brutal. His injuries are the price of transparency, visibility, and legitimacy. They are scars earned in the light, while Baek Junmin is supposed to be a novice.
(chapter 47)
(chapter 49) His cheeks have sunk, his jaw stands out more sharply, and his features seem carved by something deeper than age. This is not the look of someone forced to cut weight for competition,
(chapter 37), for the new rising star is already much smaller and thinner than the protagonist.
(chapter 73) This line is telling. It reveals not only the normalization of drug use among these teenagers, but also how intimately it’s tied to fighting. Juho isn’t offering an escape—he’s offering a tool. For him, drugs aren’t about rebellion or recreation; they are a performance enhancer. They’re marketed as part of the fighter’s toolkit.
(chapter 44) His skin is clearer, his features softer, and his face shows fewer signs of internal collapse. This is the effect of healthy food, structured discipline, clean training, and perhaps even emotional restraint. While Junmin’s face has been thinned by chaos, Jaekyung’s has been preserved by control. Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why the athlete fell in love with doc Dan at first sight. Despite being older,
(chapter 7) the “hamster” still carries a baby face: a visual marker of youth, innocence, and gentleness. He embodies everything the Shotgun does not: vulnerability without corruption, softness without vice. If Baek Junmin stands for a corrupted adulthood — weapons (The Shotgun), shadows, and counterfeit gold — then Kim Dan, by contrast, becomes the sanctuary of all that was lost: the child, the smile, the safe bed.
(chapter 49) reveals that anonymity was never his desire. It was his sentence.
(chapter 18) criminals don’t want attention. They avoid the law. They train their subordinates to vanish, to move through shadows, to speak only when spoken to. Baek Junmin wasn’t just playing a role —he was surviving a system that required him to erase himself. His hoodie was not simply clothing; it was a muzzle, a shadow he had to wear. That’s why the protagonist has not made a connection between his nemesis Baek Junmin and a Korean gang yet.
(chapter 69) How is this possible, when it is clear that the antagonist is already a thug? It is because Joo Jaekyung has no idea about his true identity. He only knows him as a cheater and liar!!
(chapter 73) he blends in by choice. Black is not a neutral here; it is a decision to recede, to be part of the backdrop. The fabric pools around his hands, hiding the skin, while the hood hangs like an unspoken “no comment.” Even when he speaks, it is without volume or force.
(chapter 73) And notice that the legend is trapped to a province, indicating that he could never make it out of there like the champion! Therefore it already implies that the future “Shotgun”‘s association with the hyung is not based on loyalty or mutual respect—it is circumstantial, even transactional. It is about money and usefulness. And now, you comprehend why Baek Junmin’s position in this gang is quite precarious.
(chapter 73) That’s the same number of persons in the dark alley, when you exclude Joo Jaekyung and Baek Junmin
(chapter 47),he doesn’t take pride in killing someone.
(chapter 49), there must have been at least a second — brief, sharp, and wounding enough to carve itself into Baek Junmin’s memory while leaving no conscious trace in Joo Jaekyung’s. The difference is telling: what the champion repressed, the Shotgun carried it like a scar. It means Baek Junmin knows more about him than the reverse, and every glare, every barb he throws later is sharpened by a history Joo Jaekyung couldn’t anticipate they share
(chapter 73) lit only in patches, with more shadow than clarity. In this kind of setting, the black hoodie becomes something more than clothing — it is camouflage. He is not merely wearing the dark; he is using it, letting the folds of fabric and the absence of light blur his edges. It is as if he intends to merge with the scenery, to be just another shadow leaning against the wall. This double concealment — in time and in space — ensures that, for now, he remains invisible to the one person whose attention he will one day crave. He began in the shadows not just by circumstance but by mandate. Yet as the boy in the hoodie fades into memory, a new figure will eventually emerge from those shadows—not to hide, but to strike. And he will no longer wear a hood. He will wear scars.
(chapter 72)
(chapter 73) in the present timeline, but an assault there can happen any time.
(chapter 17) And what did the loan shark tell him before provoking him?
(chapter 17), it appears when a fight is already lost. It is not a weapon of open combat, but of pride and desperation — a way to cheat fate when skill is not enough. Moreover, he was particularly vicious here. He attacked the champion from behind, a treacherous move. As you can see, the knife is strongly intertwined with the underworld, deception and cowardice.
(chapter 73)
(chapter 17), a head injury
(chapter 73), insults and provocations
(chapter 73),
(chapter 17) and finally an allusion to the “maker”, god versus father.
(chapter 73) Over time, the champion chose protective symbols— clouds and a dragon-like mask—tattoos designed not to intimidate but to shield.
(chapter 1)
(chapter 17) They represent protection, not aggression. Where Baek Junmin’s tattoos speak of death and destruction, Jaekyung’s express escape, survival and resilience. Even in their body art, the two boys tell opposing stories: one driven by resentment and darkness, the other by endurance and self-preservation.
(chapter 69) Nevertheless, they are here buying time. How so? If the champion were to fight again and even lose, they could bury the investigations. They were also biding time in order to stop investigations and the involvement of the media.
(chapter 73) No… he is copying others and in particular Joo Jaekyung whom he resents. Thus their attitude in the ring is similar (ruthless), yet both act that way for different reasons: pain and seriousness
(chapter 47). His new persona feels exaggerated, theatrical, hollow. He wanted to become unforgettable, but ended up being another disposable fighter in a system that only remembers champions. Now, his face is ruined: he lost teeth and has a broken nose.
(chapter 57) Hence the nurse felt sympathy for him. At the health center, he received his long due punishment. Baek Junmin learned through the hard way what it means fighting without rules. He got deceived himself, thinking that his “hyung” would have his back.
(chapter 54) These words imply that the outcome was predicted… That’s the reason why Joo Jaekyung needs to remember the past. There lies the truth: they are “rigging the games because of bets!
(chapter 54) and Joo Jaekyung’s father, Joo Jaewoong.
(chapter 47)
(chapter 72) Their words or flat reflect their mindset and role. They are waste, once used, they can be discarded. For me, it becomes obvious that the ghost from the champion’s nightmare is a combination of Joo Jaewoong and The Shotgun. Besides, observe how the father’s corpse
(chapter 54), the father with his fading trophy, Baek Junmin with his own unspoken history in the underground ring and the ghost’s words linked to the champion’s hands. Together, they symbolize the toxic underbelly of combat sports, the place where dreams are sold and consumed.
(chapter 73) He had a past worth remembering—something he even clung to in his ruined apartment, preserving his medal and document like a relic. Baek Junmin, by contrast, never belonged to the gym. He wasn’t trained. He never received formal recognition. He fought in shadows, kept to the margins, and remained a “legend” only in the backrooms of Gangwon’s illegal rings because he trusted his “hyung”.
(chapter 49). he desired to have a real title and admiration.
(chapter 51) all along—a spectacle, not a coronation. Hence director Choi was overjoyed when he heard the verdict.
(chapter 52) That’s why he earned a lot of money. They used this fight to remove the Emperor from the stage quietly. It was time for him to give up on his throne. If they had let Baek Junmin win the fight, people would have questioned the referees. The Shotgun was there to prepare the coup d’Etat, hence the new champion is someone else. Joo Jaekyung wouldn’t remain so calm hearing this:
(chapter 72) This explicates why Hwang Byungchul condemned the man and sided with the mother. But while Joo Jaewoong and Baek Junmin tried to escape through the sport, they both ended up in the criminal network. And neither made it out.

(chapter 72) —and not with fists, but with fabric.
(chapter 11) [For more read
(chapter 66): a source of comfort, loyalty, and belonging. To follow the teddy bear is to trace this emotional path—from abandonment to connection, from injury to intimacy, from being held once to being held again.
(chapter 47), and then claimed, just like his teddy bear. The fate of doc Dan’s toy bear reflects the boy’s. The former was pushed outside the embrace and bed before disappearing.
(chapter 21) That’s how the toy bear vanished from the little boy’s life. Thus I deduce that the teddy bear on the pajamas was the last traces of his “childhood”.
To follow the teddy bear is to trace this journey back to tenderness: the long path from abandonment to being held again.
(chapter 72) The shirts are not only outgrown
(chapter 72) but also replaced with t-shirts without any design alluding to the vanishing of their identity and forced maturity.
(chapter 57) For Jaekyung, the beanie-wearing bear with its wounded arm and wise glasses is the last trace of comfort before reality hardens. What remains is not the child, but the instinct to survive. From the moment the bear vanishes, a new figure begins to emerge—not one held, but one who fights. The boy with the teddy bear becomes the man who can’t rest, who equates existence with usefulness, and usefulness with victory.
(chapter 7) The cliché used by Park Namwook in chapter 7 is revealed to be not only ignorant, but cruel. Jaekyung had no home, no real guardian, no one to defend or guide him. He didn’t grow up in the wild—he grew up alone, navigating between violence (abuse and bullying), hunger, and neglect without true protection. This reframes the champion’s identity: not as someone untamable, but as someone who was never tamed because no one cared enough to try. What we witness is not savagery, but simple survival. Thus he had no friend.
(chapter 71), performative masculinity and high expectations of Park Namwook, and the explosive violence of his father.
(chapter 5) His behaviors—his hot temper, cold demeanor, blunt speech, and instrumental approach to others—were not innate traits. They were learned strategies, adapted from men who had likewise buried their vulnerability beneath strength or stoicism or brutality. Hence he brought no present to the patient at the hospice.
(Chapter 72) Much earlier, in the summer night’s dream (Chapter 44), Kim Dan sensed that hidden nature: not the predator, but the man longing to be held.
(Chapter 44) Doc Dan had sensed the real person behind the legend.
(chapter 45) and respects boundaries. He listens.
(chapter 29) And so, like a child learning a new language, Jaekyung begins to mimic him too.
(chapter 62) The change is gradual but visible: helping the townspeople, accepting rest, asking to stay close, even touching and speaking more gently.
(chapter 71) With Kim Dan, the fighter who once only mirrored power begins to echo tenderness.
(chapter 62)
(chapter 68). These are not just words—they’re the building blocks of intimacy, borrowed from the only person who ever saw through his armor. From mimicking strength, Jaekyung has begun to mimic care.
(Chapter 72) The tragedy is that Hwang Byungchul misread that hunger. When he first met the boy, he saw dirty feet, an empty stomach—literal poverty.
(chapter 72) So he fed him. But he never saw the deeper hunger: the absence of love, of being wanted. The coach assumed the problem was solved with food—because he had never gone without care.
(chapter 72) He lived with his mother. He was never truly alone. And so he projected stability onto the boy’s silence.
(Chapter 27) because the body, from the very start, was only a tool for survival.
(Chapter 72) Instead, he redirects the situation:
(chapter 22) There is no joy in eating, no comfort at the table. His body becomes a tool, and pain becomes the currency he pays to keep it running.
(Chapter 72) This explicates why Hwang Byungchul never confronted the father or called the cops or the social services. The fact that he asked the little boy
(chapter 72) The expression (“But reality was like a punch to the gut”) suggests that even the coach himself was struck by how wrong or harsh the outcome turned out to be, but that realization came too late. Yet he blamed the young boy instead of convincing the young boy to postpone the fight. This scene shows that the man’s form of “help” was not rooted in empathy or protection—it was rooted in opportunity and perhaps even short-sighted hope for glory through the boy’s talent. He turned pain into performance.
(chapter 71) why Joo Jaekyung never visited him or expressed his gratitude towards the boxing coach more openly.
(Chapter 71) He became successful thanks to his own hard work. It was, as if he had followed the advice to the letter—make it on your own. I am suspecting that the charity event is linked to poor neighborhoods and children, so he didn’t totally erase the man from his memory, he just repressed him. However, it is not astonishing why the director is resentful and even bitter towards Joo Jaekyung. It was, as if he had never helped him. While he blames the man, the coach never recognized his own shortcomings. He didn’t see that his assistance was actually conditional. 
(chapter 72) They are all rivals. But from my perspective, there exists another reason why the main lead didn’t keep in touch with Hwang Byungchul exposing the director’s blindness. The adult Joo Jaekyung admits that seeing the director’s face brings back “old memories”—not of comfort, but of trauma.
(Chapter 71) The implication is unmistakable: Hwang Byungchul reminds him of his father and the abuse. And the latter is strongly intertwined with the mother’s abandonment.
(chapter 72) The other is Jaekyung himself. How can we tell? Because the scene of the phone call contains no narration, no framing voice.
(chapter 72)
(Chapter 71) But here, doc Dan was making a huge mistake: he was just projecting his own feelings and relationship with him onto theirs. But he was behaving exactly like the former director: simplification.
(chapter 61) In the panel where he sighs, “Haa… I have no idea what’s going on in that guy’s head,” he unintentionally exposes the shallowness of his approach. He imagines that by looking at Jaekyung’s brain—by cracking his psychology—he’ll “understand” him. That way, he can regain control. But this isn’t curiosity. It’s a veiled form of control-seeking. Namwook doesn’t want to know Jaekyung as a person—he wants him to be predictable, manageable, marketable. That line doesn’t reflect concern. It reflects frustration that the human being in front of him refuses to fit the role he’s been assigned. Hence it is logical that his solution to force Joo Jaekyung to return to the gym is to accept a new match.
(chapter 65) Her mindset follows a consistent logic: one problem, one person, one solution. Kim Dan is overworked and sick?
(chapter 65) Then someone stronger should carry him. That “someone” becomes Jaekyung. The doctor should take pills and that’s it.
(chapter 65) Her logic is deeply utilitarian—Jaekyung is rich, strong, and dependable. Therefore, he must be fine. She does not consider whether he is emotionally stable, available, or even willing to carry such a weight. The haunted look in his eyes that Hwang Byungchul noticed in Chapter 72
(chapter 72) is invisible to her. She sees a man who has succeeded—and assumes that means he is thriving.
(chapter 65) This is totally naive, because certain parents like Joo Jaewoong are not capable of offering love and support. In Chapter 57, when Kim Dan was a child, bullied and humiliated, she told him: “They don’t know what they’re talking about. You still have me.”
(chapter 65) she doesn’t know anything about his life. That’s the price of simplification: you get a clean answer, but not the truth.
(chapter 70) He judges him without knowing the circumstances. This projection is not new. In the past, he blamed the father,
(chapter 17), it becomes clear that there exists a recurring link between athletic decline and criminal paths. The man fails to notice this connection. He sees these outcomes as individual moral failings, not systemic failures.
(chapter 40) Kim Dan saw the result and got fascinated. And what we’re left with now is a man whose pain and exhaustion are almost unseen
(chapter 64) He reproached him about being used and abandoned. But he was forgetting his own actions. He had also used the athlete, he had also left the bed in a hurry the next morning. Yes, he, too, simplified Jaekyung. That night, he said nothing. And in doing so, he confirmed the belief Jaekyung had internalized: I’m not someone who gets cared for. I’m someone who is tolerated, used, replaced. Like mentioned above, his mind-set was strongly influenced by Shin Okja. On the other hand, I noticed that the protagonist embodies complexity. How so? On the surface, he appears simple: obedient, quiet, weak, submissive, passive.
(chapter 70) But beneath that surface lies a dense emotional world— love, grief, guilt, exhaustion, intelligence, empathy and moral clarity — that few characters in Jinx truly perceive. He stands for the heart! And everyone knows that “the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.” (Blaise Pascal) Because he acts from a place that defies the cold logic of power, hierarchy, and survival, he operates on emotional intelligence
(chapter 71) —unspoken understanding, silent resistance, instinctive empathy. It’s no coincidence that his presence disrupts every system he enters: the gym, the hospital, the champion’s life.
(chapter 70), and starts being a person. The racing heart… which has already happened. And this observation leads me to this scene:
(chapter 58) Kim Dan was erasing this memory, he wanted to forget the star The Emperor. This act of forgetting wasn’t an escape from pain; it’s an active rejection of a myth that was keeping him emotionally paralyzed. As long as Jaekyung remained “The Emperor,” he could not be touched, questioned, or truly known. By forcing himself to forget that image, Kim Dan was making space for something more vulnerable and human to emerge. To conclude, thanks to this painful decision, he was able to perceive Joo Jaekyung the man. That’s why he acted so fiercely in front of him later. So by meeting the director, doc Dan is now able to see the child or the “cat” in his fated partner. That’s how it dawned on me why Mingwa let doc Dan suffer from addiction, depression and insomnia. Because these afflictions defy simplification. They resist instant solutions (pills). They demand patience, presence, and a refusal to look away.
(chapter 72), his bruises
(chapter 72) and asked for his name. This exposes his priorities and his blindness. He didn’t truly perceive the child in him, he was seeing him through the lenses of a boxer and director. Hence he underestimated the absence and abandonment of the mother.
(chapter 21) Unlike Kim Dan, who grew up falling asleep next to his grandmother, accustomed to someone sharing his blanket, Jaekyung was emotionally and physically on his own from the start. Moreover, observe that the little boy had toys
(chapter 53) He is a physical therapist. He had also arranged his books together:
(chapter 53) And what did the hamster think while gathering his belongings?
(chapter 53) So I deduce that the woman left them behind because she didn’t need them, she had enough or she no longer cared. But there is more to it!
(chapter 27) There are no toys, no supplies for a child—just quiet evidence of a woman focused on herself, her escape perhaps already underway.
(chapter 53) The jacket… Because of these parallels, I come to develop the following theory. Joo Jaekyung knew his age, because he had just celebrated his birthday. This scene definitely took place in the summer.
(chapter 53) must have triggered the champion’s abandonment issues. He had the impression to relive the past. The mother had left him behind in the dark unexpectedly.
(chapter 45) And now, you comprehend why I wrote above that I was not giving up on the idea that the champion could belong to a different world too. She was not accustomed to take care of a household. She wasn’t used to cook either. She would order food, hence we have the empty bowls.
(chapter 22) He feared deception here, a sign that he must have experienced such a lie before. For me, everything is pointing out that this woman was incapable of becoming responsible for her own child. She left quietly and early enough that even Hwang Byungchul, who knew of her departure, didn’t recognize the boy
(chapter 72). In other words, the mother was already emotionally absent long before she physically vanished. The bandaged bear thus becomes a silent accusation: you saw, and you left. Therefore it is not astonishing that Joo Jaekyung made such a mistake:
(chapter 68) His mistakes concerning doc Dan are the evidences that he was not taught how to take care of someone. His errors indicates his innocence and purity.
(chapter 44) before he was abandoned. Jaekyung was never treated properly before. He was not claimed at all. It is important because the champion mentioned the word “home”
(chapter 43) for the first time shortly after receiving a mysterious phone call.
(chapter 43) And it is linked to his birthday. This resembles a lot to this scene:
(chapter 37)
(chapter 49) Is it the mother or someone acting as an invisible guardian who knows the champion’s past? What do you think?
(chapter 72) Joo Jaewoong—whose name literally evokes the bear (웅, 雄 or 熊)—was not a gentle protector, but a violent alcoholic and drug addicted, a man who “strayed from the straight and narrow”
(chapter 54) —Team Black—bears symbolic weight. Unlike other athletes who proudly attach their names to their legacy, Joo Jaekyung avoids personal branding. He doesn’t call it “Jaekyung’s Gym” or “Joo Athletics.” Instead, he opts for anonymity, for darkness. It’s as if he’s building a fortress rather than a legacy, a space that offers power and protection, but no trace of where he came from.
(chapter 71) I am quite certain that her vanishing must have pained him. She embodies the only good motherly role model in his life which explains why Joo JAekyung has a soft heart for Shin Okja. He knew to speak prettily and gently because of her. It is clear that the director influenced his dream, creating a gym where his mother would be part of it. 

(chapter 65) corresponds to the release of Jinx Chapter 70, which marked the series’ return after a three-month hiatus. This observation is more than clever numerology—it mirrors the manhwa’s deeper message: the past always haunts the present, and at times, it even foreshadows the future. And that’s exactly what I will do in this essay. I propose that the key to understanding the protagonists and characters’ evolving identities lies in the overlooked architectural and administrative details—especially the house numbers, door placements, and legal ownership of space. These seemingly minor visual cues are in fact loaded with meaning, offering insight into how home, memory, and identity are fragmented and reassigned across time and place.
(chapter 57) The landlord’s house has the number 33-3. Why do two neighboring houses bear such disconnected numbers: 7-12 and 33-3?
(chapter 61) For readers unfamiliar with Korea, this looks quite bizarre. In most European and American countries, street addresses follow a linear order; house number 12 would typically be located between 10 and 14. But in Korea, especially in rural areas, many towns use the older jibeon (지번) land-lot numbering system. Here, numbers are based not on street sequence but on the chronological order of land registration and subsequent subdivisions.
(chapter 62), newer developments, or administrative restructuring rather than deep-rooted inheritance. In this context, a higher subdivision number implies not only later division, but also the erosion of legacy and the weakening of kinship-based territorial claims—an erosion especially poignant in the context of Confucian traditions that once emphasized multi-generational cohabitation and patrilineal inheritance. In classical Korean society, a home was not merely a shelter but a physical emblem of familial continuity, with ancestral rites often performed within the same household across generations. As addresses fragment and land parcels divide, so too does the symbolic structure of the family unit. The once-cohesive ideal of the extended household dissolves into isolated, rented spaces, reflecting not only economic realities but also the fraying of intergenerational bonds and filial authority.
(chapter 61) Though Jaekyung is a wealthy celebrity, he inhabits a parcel of land that speaks to impermanence and anonymity. Meanwhile, Dan shares space with someone who quietly represents legacy and transparency.
(chapter 62) However, this “dynamic” (distinction) began to shift the moment Jaekyung started working for the local residents.
(chapter 62) No longer just a “guest” or a “tourist,” he earned their recognition and acceptance through acts of service and humility.
(chapter 62) As he helped them with manual tasks—such as lifting goods or assisting the elderly—they started seeing him not as an outsider, but as one of their own. However, it is important to note that these gestures of inclusion occurred while Jaekyung was outside the blue gate
(chapter 62) —beyond the formal boundary of the rental property.
(chapter 62) Nevertheless, the best sign that he has been accepted by the community is when he received traditional welcome gifts: the toilet paper and detergent.
(chapter 69) [For more read
(chapter 65), the elderly neighbor chose to open the blue gate shortly after:
(chapter 69) Thus I deduce that the blue gate lost its purpose. The champion definitely saw the advantages of the absence of a gate by his neighbor. He could arrive there at any moment
(chapter 62) and the landlord never rejected him. In fact, he was always welcome.
(chapter 66)
(chapter 59), and townspeople instinctively report Dan’s behavior to him.
(chapter 69) I would like to point out that the kind man said “villagers” and not “villager”, a sign that he was contacted by many people. Such recognition is reserved for those woven into the community’s long memory.
(chapter 61) Given that the rural address system is based on the older jibeon model—and most GPS systems now rely on the newer road-based address format— it is unlikely that Jaekyung could have located Dan’s home through navigation alone.
(chapter 61) That’s the reason why the author included this scene. Even if someone had disclosed Dan’s address, the GPS in Jaekyung’s luxury car would not have been able to guide him there. Like mentioned above, the streets have no names, and the numbering lacks logical sequence. Thus, we have to envision how the Emperor followed Dan on foot, observing where he went. In doing so, he not only located the general vicinity. Afterwards, he must have contacted a local and requested for a vacant house close to 33-3. That’s how he found the “hostel” right next door.
– chapter 69) and walking through the confusion himself.
(chapter 65) Though she insists this seaside town is where she “grew up,” she never identifies a lot number, street, or ancestral parcel. In a rural system where numbers are more than logistical—they are signs of rootedness and intergenerational presence—her vagueness stands out. Everyone else is connected to a numbered gate, a registry, or a mailbox. She alone floats in narrative space, clinging to emotional claims without material proof: no concrete location is brought up.
(chapter 57) The contrast becomes sharper when she refers to Seoul only in generic terms. She never mentions a district,
(chapter 56), a neighborhood, or specific location. This lack of detail, especially when juxtaposed with the specificity of the rural jibeon system (where even a subdivision number implies lineage and ownership), exposes her rootlessness. It reinforces the idea that her ties to place are performative rather than grounded. Even her nostalgia for Seoul is flattened
(chapter 56), though she expressed some doubt. By asking for more details, she imagined that she could touch a sensitive topic, like for example loss of her home etc. Shin Okja‘s inability—or refusal—to locate herself within a concrete building and specific numbered system of belonging hints at a deeper truth: Shin Okja may perform the role of native and guardian
(chapter 17) As Jinx-lovers can detect, next to the entrance of her apartment, there is no blue house number plate or street name. How is that possible in a metropolis where every residence should be digitally registered? And now, pay attention to the house where the “goddess” and her “puppy” lived.
(chapter 1)
(chapter 11), we naturally assume he is returning home—entering the same shared space he and his grandmother inhabit. But is that actually the case? A closer look reveals he is using the other entrance. On his right side, we see the electricity meter, the mailbox, and the window—the signs of an inhabited and administratively recognized unit. This suggests that Kim Dan’s official residence is behind this second door. Once again, I am showing the view of the same building from a different perspective,
(chapter 57) where the mail box and the electricity meter are. But I have another evidence for this observation. During that night, the hamster got assaulted by Heo Manwook and his minions.
(chapter 11) And keep in mind that after getting beaten by the Emperor, anyone could recognize the grandmother’s place from outside due to the broken window.
(chapter 19) The moment I made this discovery, I couldn’t help myself wondering why doc Dan would go to the other door and not to the halmoni’s room.
(chapter 11) The voice on the phone reveals something legally crucial
(chapter 11): Kim Dan is the last remaining resident in that building. That one line reframes everything. This suggests that Kim Dan’s official residence is behind this second door. 😮 In fact, the building features
(chapter 5) When the loan shark came to collect the interest of the debts during Kim Dan’s childhood, he went straight to her door
(chapter 5) —the door that, at the time, likely bore the blue house number plaque.
(chapter 5) the door associated with Kim Dan in later episodes—particularly the one through which the champion entered during the confrontation with the thugs —opens inward and is placed in the corner of the right wall. The interior layouts and door directions don’t match, though the furniture is similar. This strongly suggests that these are two different units within the same building, exactly like I had observed before. The “goddess” and the hamster’s house had two doors and as such two units.
(chapter 19) had a recollection of this moment, when he was about to leave this humble dwelling.
(chapter 65) and Kim Dan the immature child, whereas according to my observations, she is legally dependent on the “hamster”. She is just a household member. As you can see, I detected a contradiction between her words and “hidden actions”, all this triggered because of the closed door. By transferring the address and registration to the physical therapist, she made it possible for him to inherit not just the space, but also the liability. That’s why he’s now the only registered person.
(chapter 11) When he says “home,” he is referring not just to a physical place, but also to a legal and emotional placeholder—a registration number that ties him to bureaucratic existence, familial duty, and emotional manipulation. With her promise to return in that home, Shin Okja is essentially demanding he remains the legal anchor—the one who stays behind, the one who remains registered, the one who continues to carry the official burdens, even as she herself fades into invisibility. That’s how she became a “carefree” ghost in the end. It wasn’t just a promise of care, but a submission to being tethered—not to belonging, but to obligation masked as love. The irony is that by remaining legally “present,” Dan was emotionally erased.
(chapter 65) In this panel, her words in English were ambiguous, while in the Korean version, the grandmother exposes that she was well aware that her grandson and the emperor would live together. 
(chapter 65), in the eyes of the system, merely lodging in his shadow. She is indeed a ghost.
(chapter 22) This architectural division is deeply symbolic. Despite being the dependent, Dan is the one bearing responsibility—both financially and administratively. Shin Okja, on the other hand, manages to live without accountability.
(chapter 65) Joo Jaekyung is almost her grandson!! It was, as if she was about to adopt him. Let’s not forget that he embodies all her ideals and dreams: strong, healthy, rich, famous, generous, polite and gentle! And according to my observations, she knows that the athlete owns a flat in Seoul, big enough to take a room mate.
(chapter 16) He even showed the amount Kim Dan owned with his cellphone to the Emperor
(chapter 53) So far, in season 1, she had made only one (chapter 41) before her request to visit the West Coast. The most plausible explanation is that Shin Okja persuaded him to take over the loan. She likely presented it as a necessary sacrifice, something he could manage given his income as a physical therapist. This explains why the elderly woman is no longer asking about the debts or loan. It is no longer her main concern, she is not the household head either. And don’t forget what the physical therapist thought, when he heard from Kim Miseon the bad prognostic about his grandma.
(chapter 5) His words imply that he had done something in the past for her. And that would be to become her guardian and take her debts. This hypothesis explicates why only in episode 11, Doc Dan was comparing the progression of the interests with a snowball system, something unstoppable.
(chapter 11) His thoughts reflect a rather late realization that he is trapped in a system and he can not get out of it. In other words, this image oozes a certain innocence. This also explained why Joo Jaekyung had to confront him with reality in front of the hospital.
(chapter 18) The location is not random: for the halmoni, such a work place symbolizes respectability, power and money. The problem is that in the hospice, Doc Dan is not well-paid.
(chapter 56)
(chapter 11) And now, it is time to return our attention to my illustration for the essay:
As my avid readers can observe, the panel with the champion facing the blue door comes from episode 69, while the one with doc Dan comes from chapter 11. These scenes are mirroring each other. It is about concern and danger! While in episode 69, the athlete got worried, as he imagined that doc Dan’s life was in danger, in episode 11, the hamster was about to face an old threat: Heo Manwook and his minions!
(chapter 11) But back then, he was on his own and no one paid attention to his health. Not even Shin Okja… He was truly abandoned, while the episode 69 exposes the opposite. Society in this little town takes care of people in general.
(chapter 11), he jumped to the conclusion that Dan was either prostituting himself or laundering funds. Why? It is because he had taken odd jobs, until he got hired by the dragon, Joo Jaekyung, and had such a huge income. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Heo Manwook knew how to use the old lady in order to threaten doc Dan.
(chapter 16) Like I wrote in a different analysis, I doubt that the grandma would have signed a loan by Heo Manwook. This reveals how Dan entered the contract in obscurity, without recognition or protection. He did it for Shin Okja’s sake to repay her for her support and “love”.
(chapter 65) No wonder why Shin Okja never mentions the loans when speaking to Joo Jaekyung, thus erasing her responsibility. And imagine this: Doc Dan is now living with an elderly man who is a farmer. She might suspect that the senior is trying to take advantage from her “grandsons”. If this is true, then she would just be projecting her own thoughts and fears onto the landlord. Since she connects the city to success and money, I am quite certain that she doesn’t judge farmers in a positive light. For her, doctors or celebrities are much more recommendable persons.
(chapter 57) Therefore I am expecting an argument between the halmoni and the inhabitants of 33-3. The landlord embodies the opposite values of Shin Okja.
(chapter 16) Dan repeatedly calls it his grandmother’s and even dreamed of finding a new place that could house it—a gesture that underscores how much he believed she treasured the object, even though she herself never mentions it. But she never once references it, not even when returning from the hospital. The absence of interest is striking. What if the cabinet didn’t belong to her at all? Its size suggests that it predates the division of the house. Besides, according to my observation, she used to live in the other unit and I can not imagine, the halmeoni moving this furniture from one unit to the other. Perhaps it once belonged to Dan’s mother—a remnant of the original household, now misattributed to the woman who unofficially took over.
(chapter 19) onto the object just as he projects loyalty and gratitude onto his guardian. But the silence around the cabinet speaks volumes: it is not treasured by Shin Okja, only by Dan. Much like his name on the loan, or the house number on the door, it could be a misplaced inheritance. At the same time, such an item could serve to identify doc Dan’s true origins, if the Wedding Cabinet belonged to his true family.
(chapter 66) Changing his registration would mean stepping outside of the institution’s control and surveillance.
(chapter 62) Without Dan, Seoul held no meaning. But if he remains in the town past the statutory threshold, it would imply that he is ready to leave behind the world of contracts and competitions. It would mean he is now rooted—not by career, but by choice. Not by obligation, but by emotional truth.

, released in anticipation of Chapter 70, is more than a promotional teaser. It is a moment frozen in time, yet brimming with motion—emotional, symbolic, and narrative. We see Joo Jaekyung embracing Kim Dan with both arms, pressing him tightly against his chest. There is no resistance, no distance, no tension in the frame. The palette moves from gray and brown fading into violet and pink, blooming into soft light. There is vapor, there is breath, an allusion to life. And most strikingly, there is stillness.
(chapter 11), every glare, and every awkward silence
(chapter 67) between these two, this hug feels monumental.
(chapter 58)
(chapter 68) and the public hug on the dock in Chapter 69.
(chapter 69)
(chapter 68) He rests his chin not on Dan, but on his own hand, his arm propped on the edge of the bathtub. This detail is telling: even in a moment of supposed closeness, Jaekyung relies on himself for support, not on Dan. He is physically near but emotionally braced—still holding himself apart. His thoughts are private, tender, and possessive. In a rare moment of introspection, he confesses that
(chapter 69) The illusion of control dissipates, revealing that his earlier vow, however heartfelt, was not yet unshakable.
(chapter 69) rather than a moment of mutual resolution. Jaekyung offers no words, yet a silent gesture of care and vulnerability.
(chapter 69) that Jaekyung is wearing it, the change in angle—viewing the hug from behind—deliberately conceals it.
(chapter 55) In the new illustration, the hamster’s back is no longer representing anonymity and indifference, but visibility and care, for the champion is now facing his fated partner. In other words, doc Dan’s back in the teaser stands for uniqueness and high value. He can not be replaced. Moreover, doc Dan is not walking away, nor is he asleep.
(chapter 21) Dan became fluent in a silent, physical language of care. She often asked him not to cry
(chapter 47) and composed embraces—gestures repeated with calm precision. These touches were predictable, rhythmic, and soothing, but they also suppressed genuine emotional exchange, the symbol of toxic positivity.
(chapter 57) the momentary pause of a hand
(chapter 5) never still—giving the impression of involvement, of care in action. But this motion avoided vulnerability and responsibility in reality. She never clung, never trembled. Her gestures conveyed comfort but not surrender, presence but not change, and not support either. They were not truly emotionally together.
(chapter 47) to hold her hand, to initiate closeness
(chapter 47)
(chapter 56). This reversal of roles placed the burden of emotional stability on his young shoulders.
(chapter 57); I’ll come back home, once I am all better”
(chapter 35) Instead of recoiling in fear or admiring his strength, Dan quietly states, “I think I really need to focus on Mr. Joo right now.” He does not focus on the strength or aggression, but on the pain beneath it. The burst sandbag, for him, is not a threat—it is a symbol of Jaekyung’s emotional unraveling. This silent recognition mirrors Dan’s interpretive skills developed in childhood. Just as he once learned to read a shift in his grandmother’s hand or the silence after a broken promise, he now interprets the damage to the sandbag as an unspoken plea for help. This sensitivity continues to define his bond with Jaekyung.
(chapter 47), to stabilize the person meant to support him. Now, he is receiving without shame or hesitation. The Emperor’s silent desperation, his refusal to hide behind ritual or false strength, creates the space for Dan to feel treasured—not pitied, but wanted.
(chapter 65) or stand-ins
(chapter 29), ignoring Dan’s presence and concern. His rejection of the doctor’s offer of comfort or companionship underscores not only his emotional detachment but also the absence of true support from his supposed team. The manager, Park Namwook, is nowhere to be seen,
(chapter 42) or offered silence in return. He had no teamwork ability in the end contrary to the hamster who “assisted” his grandmother. But it is not surprising, since Park Namwook has always relied on his boy.
(chapter 40) Each time, they faced a problem, the athlete had to resolve it. He was the problem and the solution for everything.
(chapter 66) or use violence to “tame the wolf”. That’s the reason why he is accepting the offer from the CEO of MFC. He is pushing the Emperor to return to the ring, but the problem is now that doc Dan was officially recognized as a member from Black Team.
(chapter 69)
(chapter 66)
(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 54), Joo Jaekyung is cornered by a faceless, overpowering ghost. He is unable to fight or flee; only obedience and silence remain.
(chapter 14) But ironically, he became exactly what the abuser desired: a powerful, obedient puppet. His fame, discipline, and aggression were not signs of freedom, but evidences of emotional and mental captivity. That’s why the past from the champion is surrounded by darkness and mystery.
(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 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 36), or MFC’s decisions.
(chapter 25: here the protagonist was replacing Yosep and Park Namwook), hires professionals to manage damage
(chapter 47), and hides behind administrative actions.
(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 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 65) She uses his past flaws to outline his immaturity and need of guidance. However, she is not taking into consideration the transformation in the doctor due to the recent incidents (switched spray). He is no longer the same than he was 6 months ago or 2 years old. He changed thanks to the athlete and because of unfortunate events (sexual harassment from the hospital director, switched spray). But the halmoni has no idea about such incidents.
(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 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 5) Hence he made sure to shield her from any pain.
(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 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) They will be able to communicate which will help them to discover the truth about MFC. Yes, their ability to ponder will lead them to unmask the villains and defeat their opponents. By fighting for justice, both will discover true peace of mind. This hardship at the end of season 1 was necessary to reset their heart and mind: what is the true meaning of life? Money? Work? Duty? Sacrifice?… The answer is happiness which is strongly intertwined with love and selflessness. 


(chapter 13), who had been awakened by the champion, though contrary to the fairy tale, this arising was associated with pain. [For more read the analysis
(chapter 60) But how did they ended up both cursed by the same spell? The reason is simple. They were either halted by guilt and self-loathing or distorted by the desperate need to escape a traumatic past. Yet, amidst this stasis, small cracks are beginning to appear, suggesting that the flow of time cannot be denied forever. The past can not be repeated
(chapter 64) or become the present or future. At the heart of this struggle lie symbols of doors, windows, and reflections—metaphors for how both characters perceive their realities and their chances of breaking free.
(chapter 59), reflecting his selfless role as a caregiver. As someone who has long allowed others to define his time—whether as a physical therapist or as a prostitute—Kim Dan has yet to acknowledge his own mortality. Even during the lavender-tinted night, while he determined the length
(chapter 64) and nature of the encounter
(chapter 62), he did so for the sake of debts, not for himself.
(chapter 64) The recent death of the puppy serves as a stark reminder
(chapter 59) that he is not exempt from time’s reach, that he too is aging and vulnerable. But the doctor failed to recognize this warning. He only viewed it as a sign of his own powerlessness, reducing it from his own perception. He overlooked the fragility of life as such.
(chapter 35), he created an illusion of freedom that only masked his deeper confinement—his glass prison. When Kim Dan closed the door and left
(chapter 64), the illusion shattered, revealing the reality of his loneliness. The jinx,
(chapter 55) The view created an illusion of openness and freedom, masking the reality of his confinement. Glass, by its very nature, is transparent—a barrier that is invisible yet unbreakable, creating a false sense of freedom. The window’s clarity hid the fact that it was, in truth, an impassable wall that confined him, turning the promise of escape into a cruel irony. By focusing on the horizon, he could avoid looking inward, denying the unresolved trauma left by his anonymous abuser.
(chapter 54) were designed to create the illusion of eternity—as if time itself was under the phantom’s control. This assertion not only sought to freeze Joo Jaekyung in a perpetual state of inadequacy but also to distort his perception of change as impossible. Trapped in a cycle of hatred and self-loathing, the athlete’s vision of freedom was limited to the false infinity of the horizon.
(chapter 19) —a window that offered no view of the outside world. This reflected his entrapment in a life defined by guilt and sacrifice, unable to envision a future beyond repaying debts and fulfilling duties. The window’s visible cracks and makeshift repairs represent not only the physical deterioration of their environment but also the psychological fragmentation within Kim Dan himself. By choosing to patch the window rather than replace it, Shin Okja’s actions reflect a mentality of denial and resignation—an unwillingness to confront the full extent of their impoverishment and suffering.
(chapter 19) suggests a deeper symbolic resistance to change or moving forward. In a sense, the grandmother’s decision to live with the broken window mirrors her acceptance of a life defined by limitations and unspoken grief.
(chapter 51) Observe how the “hamster” is once again turning his back to the door. However, the bloody footprints became an evidence for Kim Dan that he had been abandoned and left behind. And now, you comprehend why the main lead took the athlete’s request seriously and literally. It is because the door in the past was the symbol of betrayal and abandonment. This explicates why he is so sensitive to the sound of a closing door and could recognize it, even if his ears and eyes were covered.
(chapter 35)
(chapter 21) Consequently, I interpret the following scene like this:
(chapter 57) His unconscious was telling him this: Shin Okja had broken her promise. She was about to abandon him. He had the impression that he was reliving the past. That’s the reason why he was scared and suffering.
(chapter 56) revealed the existence of a past trauma. It highlighted his own fear of abandonment and rejection—an emotion he had long denied. The door, a supposed barrier against the outside world, now stood as a reminder of all he had pushed away, including his own need for connection. Therefore he never left his door open in the penthouse:
(chapter 55) That’s why I perceive this scene as an important step for Kim Dan himself:
(chapter 64) By opening and closing the door, he is overcoming his abandonment issues. He becomes the ruler of his own life (time and relationship). He is freeing himself from the mental torment which readers could witness in earlier episodes.
(chapter 24) The physical therapist has kept his past trauma a secret. And what is the synonym for “secret”? Key! So when the main lead leaves the champion behind
(chapter 24), yet the latter didn’t get fooled at all. He found out the true nature of their relationship.
(chapter 19) the Wedding Cabinet in Kim Dan’s home functioned both as a mirror and a false window, preserving an illusion of timelessness.
(chapter 10), the cabinet remained pristine, suggesting a futile attempt to halt the passage of time and maintain the status quo.
(chapter 53) By throwing it away, Kim Dan unknowingly released time from its prison, breaking the spell that his grandmother’s control had cast over him. This act was not just a rejection of his past but an unconscious acknowledgment that time was moving forward—that he could no longer live as if he were already dead. Simultaneously, this gesture symbolizes his separation from his grandmother, breaking the illusion of perpetuity that she maintained. So while he might have been by her side physically
(chapter 1) to the point that I called him “Mister Mistake”.
(chapter 43) On the other hand, his missteps are there to teach the fighter to drop his perfectionism and to bring the notion of entertainment in his fated partner’s life. Kim Dan is funny in his own way.
(chapter 64) He doesn’t respect humans in general. The irony is that by criticizing Joo Jaekyung, the doctor is overlooking his own nature. He is also a sinner.
(chapter 57) Is it a coincidence that the doctor’s cold attitude takes place in chapter 60 -64?
(chapter 61) No, as the number 6 sounds similar to sex. Moreover, don’t forget that Satan’s number is strongly associated with 6 (666 or 616). From my point of view, the “hamster” is on his way to become an adult and as such a sinner as well. The physical therapist’s stubbornness reminded me of the behavior of a teenager who believes to know everything about life, while in verity, such people lack experiences. And what did the nurse say about the main lead?
(chapter 57) He should nurse himself for his halmoni’s sake so that the latter wouldn’t worry. From my point of view, if doc Dan gets sick, he could be the catalysator for her deteriorating health. But now, it is time to return our attention to the “champion”.
(chapter 61) But why did he want to return to the past? It is because of the ghost’s criticism
(chapter 64)
(chapter 64) That’s why the door
(chapter 64) Hence the author focused on his wide opened gaze. Kim Dan’s intervention was painful but necessary, because through this reflection, the athlete’s motivation to fight is bound to change. In the future, the fight won’t be deadly serious like before, he won’t act like a tyrant in the ring where he couldn’t control his rage.
(chapter 1) He will see his opponent as an artist too.
(chapter 21) with her, because he felt treasured.
(chapter 61)
(chapter 63) —no matter how reluctantly—represents the second turn. With the doctor’s cold rejection, he is forced to choose: What does he want in life? Only the champion title or something else?
(chapter 64)
Hence the latter will become his hyung. For me, there’s no doubt that through this confrontation, the athlete’s respect for Kim Dan can only increase.
(chapter 27), and he noticed the quietness of the ocean
(chapter 62), I am expecting that he will go to the beach. A new version of this scene:
(chapter 59) But this time, that would be a conscious choice. That’s how he will reconnect with his true self for good. But strangely, I am expecting that he won’t be on his own. I am quite certain that this man will make a similar experience than the grandmother:
(chapter 53) However, from my point of view, Joo Jaekyung should witness the sunrise and not sunset… which would announce his rebirth. There was only one sunset in season 1, which was linked to Shin Okja’s mortality:
(chapter 47). Moreover, in season 1 and 2, the doctor was often connected to the sunset:
(chapter 17) And we had the beach here in the background.
(chapter 48) This was an ominous sign for the champion’s symbolic “death” and rebirth. Sun and moon are natural tools to determine the flow of time. 












(chapter 49) These 3 men and The Shotgun have to be seen as a team. Moreover, 4 is a synonym for death. Then, observe that the image from episode 20 contains two villains, the loan shark and the perverted hospital director. 1 +1 = 2. So when we see the number 10, 11, 16, 17 and 18, we could perceive it as an allusion to Heo Namwook, the villain.
(chapter 11) Let’s not forget that in Jinx-Fandom, many Jinx-addicts calls him a “red flag”. Here, he was abusing his position. Furthermore, this theory could be seen as validated with the first episode with this image:
(chapter 1) The main lead appears as a beast, triggering the doctor’s fears. He seems to be like an antagonist. However, I believe that it is just a deception. First, Mingwa has clearly stated that the champion is the protagonist of Jinx. As such, he can be neither a villain nor an antagonist. Secondly, though he seems to serve as a barrier, the reality is that Kim Dan is incited to mature and overcome his own fears. In fact, the celebrity represents the opposite notions of “conformity” and “immobility”. He embodies verity, maturity, transformation and progression. The evidence of this perception is the gradual transformation of Kim Dan as an inexperienced PT to a very professional and performant physical therapist. According to my interpretation, the Emperor works as the mirror of truth. He confronts the delusional physical therapist with his mental and emotional issues, like here:
(chapter 45) as a good trigger for the 29 years old man to turn into a good PT. From that moment on, he only focused on the sportsman, and stopped asking the help from colleagues or listening to them.
(chapter 42) He only relied on his hands. He was forced to become a serious and confident PT!!
(chapter 1) The star was just waiting, and not threatening the doctor. As you can see, Joo Jaekyung doesn’t appear like a threat or a monster. But this doesn’t end here. One detail caught my interest. The champion is associated with blue. It is his true color, whereas Kim Dan is “red”, like a sweet strawberry. So why does this young man ooze a red aura, when his true shade is blue like water
(chapter 1) Note the contrast to his “boy”. The red is not coming from Joo Jaekyung’s body
(chapter 11) The coach is yelling for Joo Jaekyung’s comment, yet the reality is that the manager didn’t treat Kim Dan at all. In fact, he feigned ignorance. Moreover, look at the champion’s t-shirt:
(chapter 26) In this composition, I compared the MMA star with a leopard and Park Namwook to a spider:
(chapter 46) He represents regression or the hurdle to overcome. 











(chapter 9) or other events like this one:
(chapter 37) Buying in secret junk food.
(chapter 1)
I came to this revelation thanks to this article:
. (chapter 46) This would explain the champion’s emptiness and darkness:
(chapter 21) and Kim Miseon’s reproach to Kim Dan could be seen as an indirect allusion. And if my interpretation about her number is correct, then we would have a good explanation why Kim Dan was unable to perceive her true nature, but also why she is so selfish.
(chapter 53) Only the logo is red.
(chapter 53) It is important, because it announces the manager’s resignation. He doesn’t want to become responsible for the mess. Unconsciously, he is no longer claiming to be the owner of the gym. Furthermore, notice that the grandmother desires to return to the West Coast in order to see an ocean of “fire”. 
(chapter 35) In episode 16 and 17, the presence of the sun is a reference to the MMA fighter, it is announcing his arrival. This corresponds to the color I had detected with the first scheme:
MFC with the blue “ring” embodies this pigment, just like the ocean. In other words, blue should be the dominant color in season 2, and in Taoism blue stands for YIN! On the other hand, Kim Dan also represents red with his name. Moreover, if you look at the numbers of the quoted episodes again, you will realize that the villains are strongly connected to the number 10 and as such one and zero. Thus Director Choi Gilseokf’s phone number is 010-1….
(chapter 46)
(chapter 37) He never complimented him for his hard work at all.
(chapter 46), however Park Namwook refused to accept such a behavior from his boss. Therefore he put his pupil under pressure.
(chapter 46) He avoided a confrontation. This number symbolizes how the lead feels burdened by obligations imposed by his oppressor, who positions himself as provider of “stability” while actually fostering dependence and draining his victim. And naturally, in the same chapter, we have a similar interaction between Heo Manwook, the minion and his hyung, the real boss:
(chapter 46) Here, the director was reminding him of his mistakes and obligations. However, this time the boss chose to become proactive and responsible.
(chapter 1)
(chapter 13) They are strongly intertwined with the color green and as such blue. In literature, art, and psychology, the color blue often represents calmness, loyalty, and introspection.This fits to the description made by the author concerning season 2. The latter would focus more on emotions and thoughts than on the plot. And now, it is time to reveal why in the illustration I added the number 9.
(chapter 9) The leopard agreed and that’s how they came to argue about his home the next morning:
(chapter 10)- So from 9 to 18, the story is focusing on the doctor’s home. In episode 18, Joo Jaekyung invites the poor physical therapist to his home.
(chapter 18) Then in episode 19, Joo JAekyung is not asking for his “help”, until he calls him. But even here, he is refusing to prepare his partner:
(chapter 19) As for Kim Dan, the latter doesn’t feel truly needed as PT, hence he is already thinking about taking another job:
(chapter 19) Then in episode 27, Kim Dan offers his assistance.
(chapter 27) He encourages his VIP client to take a break by remaining by his side. However, this attempt fails, as in episode 29
(chapter 36) it shows his passivity and neglect. He doesn’t feel responsible for the champion’s career or safety. His concerns earlier were rather superficial. This explicates why he is also treated like a doll. Then in episode 39, for the first time, the doctor is requesting his help and assistance.
(chapter 39) The problem is that it is related to a drug and sex. This has nothing to do with his job or career. Interesting is that in episode 45, for the first time, Joo Jaekyung voiced his needs to have him as a PT:
(chapter 49) This means that in that scene, Joo Jaekyung refused to let Kim Dan treat him out of doubts and mistrust which were triggered by the manager’s words and the pictures. As you can see, the number 9 is strongly intertwined with help, but also with a change. The beginning of a new circle. Thus I am expecting in the new season, chapter 54, that for the first time, Joo Jaekyung will ask for help and support. But he can not ask Park Namwook or others from Team Black… he has only one true friend and that would be Cheolmin, unless he finds the protagonist immediately. At the same time, I would like to point out another observation. What is the opposite of 9? Naturally 6, which represents the end of a circle. And now, look at this:
The end of Joo Jaekyung’s torment. He doesn’t need to chase after him.






(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 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 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 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 36) However, my avid readers should ponder on the following aspect: how did he buy the jackets and the junk food?
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 15), but as soon as his idol lost his title and got even suspended, he yelled and slapped his fighter:
(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 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), yet notice that no fans or fighter know his name as a successful coach or manager. He is not a famous manager in the end. His income depends on the athlete’s career and victories. No wonder why he put so much pressure on his celebrity. Thus I had the following revelation: he was actually exposing his true self in front of the doctor at the restaurant.
(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 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) 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 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 46) The latter was a new source of income and fame. Everything was revolving around money. That’s how it dawned on me why the manager got angry for the bet in episode 26:
(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 48) are full of greedy people who have no problems to commit crimes in order to achieve their goals (more fame, more wealth, revenge, more connections). Baek Junmin became a champion by cheating.
(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 14) Yet, the main lead never got the chance to see it. Then the ocean is only mentioned directly at the end of the first season. The halmeoni was expressing her wish to return to the West Coast
(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 27) Like mentioned above, the beholder in front of the ocean can have a different experience than the young girl.
(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 47) 
(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 47)
(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 45) This means that the night view of the ocean should make him discover the beauty of the sound of water. He will come to associate the sound of the sea waves with Kim Dan. That’s how he will be able to fall asleep. In other words, I am expecting a new version of this scene: 

(chapter 30) Whereas the protagonist sees in a pattern a shield and protection, the other considers it as a source of danger, for the person doesn’t feel alive.
(Chapter 30) Kim Dan had heard the conversation between the artist and his manager before offering his help and approaching him. Then when he took his hand for an examination, he was not holding it out of admiration.
(Chapter 30) No wonder why the doctor caught his attention. The pink haired star got surprised by such an unusual treatment. The irony is that the main lead was doing nothing out of the ordinary. This shows that till this meeting, the actor had always been treated as a prince, for the latter had always been privileged. It is not surprising that Heesung found Joo Jaekyung refreshing.
(Chapter 30) He was the only one who would not consider him as special, rather as bothersome. Yes, he was not favored by the emperor. Under his new light, it becomes comprehensible why Mingwa let the gumiho play the role of a prince wearing a purple hanbok with Potato:
(Special episode 2) The purple hanbok is strongly connected to Joseon royalty. (For more read my essays about Painter Of The Night) In addition, while the comedian thinks, it is a fiction, he is wrong in verity. It was a reality, for he has been living like a sovereign. And now, you comprehend why Heesung praised the physical therapist to the sky.
(Chapter 30) By treating him like an average patient, he could only appear as very professional and competent.
(Chapter 30) He was seen as a serious and honest doctor who was not looking for favors and recognition. So I deduce that the actor felt moved by such a selflessness and care.
(Chapter 30) We should consider this image full with stars as a metaphor for the comedian’s heart racing. To conclude, their first encounter reflected Heesung’s philosophy: his desire for novelty and genuine attention, while he is longing for normal treatment and as such for an ordinary relationship. The expression “soulmate” is implying the notion of equity. Thus because of the doctor’s actions, Heesung felt alive. Funny is that by discovering the doctor, Heesung was encouraged to accept routine. Therefore he came to the gym on a regular basis.
(Chapter 31) This shows the inner conflict of the actor. Deep down, he dislikes being treated as a prince and would like to be seen as a man and nothing more. Normality and regularity stand in opposition to privilege and novelty. On the other side, he seems to reject averageness and commonplaceness. Therefore he likes to show off his wealth:
(chapter 35) or he imagines to have sex in a barn next to a crowded place.
(Special episode 2) As you can see, thanks to the new episode, I realized that Potato’s role is to make him give up on his special status and privileges. In the bedroom, he might become the master, but outside he will be forced to work for someone else: Potato and as such for the main couple. And this brings me to my next prediction. Look how Mingwa ended the second special episode:
Manhwaphiles see Potato running away, because he is embarrassed. For me, it indicates that Potato will turn his back on Heesung. Yes, we should see this ending as the positive reflection from this night:
(chapter 53) Back then, the champion didn’t imagine that the doctor had already started distancing himself. However, here it is clear that contrary to the main lead, Yoon-Gu doesn’t plan to leave the actor or to neglect him at all. He is a very mature and responsible person. Besides, he has just accepted his suggestion: he plans to visit him on the set.
(Special episode 1) He needs to become responsible. He won’t get sick of his lover, and he is going to miss him terribly. In my eyes, Choi Heesung is about to go through the same experience than his frenemy: regret and longing. He should have paid more attention to the physical therapist and the champion
(chapter 35), as their relationship is affecting his own life. How so? It is because the young MMA fighter is a stan of Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung!
(Chapter 35) Let’s not forget that when Yoon-Gu helped the physical therapist in the locker room, he was indirectly assisting the star.
(Chapter 49) The problem is that in season 1, he was rather distant and privileged the celebrity. Therefore he didn’t protect the physical therapist properly. Since the maknae is really sad about the doctor’s departure
(Special episode 2) Fascinating is that the expression “to have a ball” (a synonym to enjoy oneself) is related to Cinderella.
(Chapter 29) He has only lived in one so far due to his privileges. It was, as if he has lived in a fairy tale, far away from reality. Now with Potato, he is finally able to live out his fantasies, hence his fairytale-like world has just lost its reason to exist. Thanks to Kim Dan and Potato, the comedian is brought back to reality. He is discovering not only averageness, but also the true significance of routine and normality. Thanks to the latter, trust and intimacy can deepen. He found out that he can experience novelty through sex.
(Special episode 2) It was, as if he wanted Potato to switch his career. It exposes his desire to be close to the maknae. However, with the champion’s downfall and the physical therapist’s departure, I am quite certain that Yoon-Gu’s position at Team Black is about to change. The gym needs to become successful again and present new athletes. Yoon-Gu can no longer be treated as an extra!! His future is now important for Team Black and Park Namwook. Finally, he proved his worth by fighting the older and bigger fighters at the restaurant. Thus I doubt that Choi Heesung can make a deal with Park Namwook like in the past.
The moment you read this note, you can grasp why the athlete would consider the comedian as a total nuisance. It is because the former couldn’t focus on his training (other exercises: CrossFit, Gym, mostly weights). As a conclusion, the athlete had many reasons to view the artist as bothersome. On the other hand, since Heesung is on his way to adopt regularity, I deduce that the champion’s fate is to accept surprises and changes in his life. And now, you know why their first encounter ended like this: 
(Chapter 4) However, in the athlete’s mind, the doctor had not abandoned him, for he imagined that Kim Dan was motivated by his greed. He was just interested in money. As you can see, Kim Dan represents novelty and exception. Nonetheless, the problem is that till the end of season 1, the fighter never came to see novelties and sudden events as something positive.
(Chapter 43)
(chapter 19), the athlete didn’t change his daily schedule at all. On the one hand, Manhwa-philes could judge this as a sign of his selfishness. On the other hand, it exposes his lack of sociability. He had never lived with someone else before. Since we never saw his family or heard about his parents in the first season, I assume that he is a true orphan contrasting to the physical therapist’s situation. Yet both have one common denominator: abandonment issues. The absence of family displays the difference between the two semes. While the actor embodies favoritism and nepotism which is strongly linked to family, the other represents the opposite values: indifference, meritocracy and business. Thus the Webtoonist created such a scene:
(Chapter 32) According to me, he never went to his training. And shortly after, he was involved in a scandal.
(chapter 19) and why he got upset and scared
(chapter 53). In episode 19, the champion really viewed the main lead as an object
(chapter 05) Hence he called him from the gym making sure that he had not blocked him or even vanished. Under this new light, Jinx-philes can understand why he felt the urge to have sex with Kim Dan. It was to remind him that he would belong to him. Yes, unconsciously, the athlete projected his own thoughts and fears onto his fated companion.
(chapter 19), many Jinx-philes had been able to discern the fighter’s past (invisible) action. He had been looking for the doctor in the huge penthouse, the older version of this scene
(chapter 19) The doctor had barely left traces in the apartment. Only the cupboard was the evidence of his presence in the flat. However, this object could be left behind… exactly like Joo Jaekyung had treated Kim Dan in this panel:
(chapter 19) It was worthless. My point is that Joo Jaekyung must have realized in episode 19, when he returned to the penthouse that Kim Dan was different from the cupboard, he was no object at all. And now, you comprehend why the main lead said this to the doctor in the bathroom:
(chapter 19) First, he was compared to a prostitute, then later to a baby.
(Chapter 20) This scene proves that Joo Jaekyung was viewing his lover as a human. Additionally, the comparison to a whore was to mask his previous anxiety and thoughts. He had been looking for him. He needed to appear as strong and superior, the one with the upper hand.
(Chapter 33) Here, he tried to give pleasure to the doctor, for he saw Choi Heesung as a huge rival. The latter is known for being a better lover. It was, as if he was trying to give a reward to his companion. Moreover, I believe, the sex toy was there, because the champion feared that he wouldn’t be able to control his emotions and actions. Then in this scene, one might argue that the champion treated him as a sex doll
(chapter 36) However, my avid readers should keep in their mind that sex was like a surrogate fight. Thus we could say that in this panel, the physical therapist is actually treated like a “fighter” and enemy. Then when the champion criticized him for his bad decision, he was finally recognizing him as a physical therapist.
What caught my attention is that earlier in the season, the celebrity talked to doc Dan, but he was showing a certain disrespect towards his room mate. His Wedding Cabinet was garbage, he was not included in his evening training. Like mentioned above, he was treated like a furniture. Nevertheless, in chapter 47, Joo Jaekyung chose the silent treatment. It shows that he was now considering him as a member from Team Black, but because of Park Namwook’s warning,
(chapter 53) When the doctor left the penthouse, he disposed his halmoni’s Wedding cabinet. In other words, he treated the precious furniture as junk, turning the champion’s words into a reality. It was, as if the doctor had taken the MMA fighter’s words seriously. However, Kim Dan didn’t act that way because of the athlete’s false judgement. It is just that the doctor came to consider the wedding cabinet as a burden. Thus he treated it as junk. For him, the furniture only had a sentimental value. It symbolized the grandmother. But why would he consider it as an onus then? First, he couldn’t bring the cupboard to the West coast, too expensive and troublesome. Secondly, he wouldn’t have been able to place the Wedding cabinet in a small flat.
(chapter 16) In addition, Kim Dan had kept it for his halmoni’s sake.
(chapter 53) She was the one who loved it so much. But since she is trying to reconnect to her childhood and nature, she no longer values it. Yes, the halmoni is falling more and more into childhood, the closer she is to death. Thus she came to repress her marriage. As you can see, the elderly is slowly forgetting her own past and as such Kim Dan. She is trying to relive a moment from her childhood, a time when the grandchild didn’t exist.
(chapter 46)
(chapter 46) In both scenes, the doctor came to resign and lower his expectation. Thus I deduce that after the final episode, the champion will come to treasure the objects left behind by the physical therapist. Notice that he didn’t throw away the letter. By keeping them, the athlete would show how much he appreciates Kim Dan. In addition, the letter is wishing him well, which no one has expressed so far. The letter oozes trust, confidentiality, admiration and closeness. Hence I deduce that at the end, Joo Jaekyung is heartbroken, though he can not clearly voice his emotions.
(Chapter 17) Then when he brought the physical therapist to Heesung’s home, he used the GPS, a sign that he was not familiar with the route.
(Chapter 33) Interesting is that when he heard his regular nightly disappearances, he never tried to follow him.
(Chapter 45) Why? It is because he was always back in the morning. Furthermore, despite his exhaustion, the physical therapist was still following the daily schedule. Because Kim Dan wanted to keep it a secret, the champion was forced to feign ignorance. Thus he couldn’t question him about his whereabouts. In addition, I can also envision that he must have thought that it was related to his grandmother. Don’t forget that he experienced once how the doctor had left his side due to a phone call in the middle of the night.
(Chapter 21) Since the athlete’s life is revolving around routine, I am quite certain that he must have jumped to conclusions based on his first experiences… the birth of prejudices. Thus I have the feeling that Park Namwook’s biased perception concerning his champion is also influenced by their first meeting and experiences. It is important, because such a mentality fixated on daily schedule represents a hindrance for the mind. Routine often leads to close-mindedness and lack of critical thinking. At the same time, this new interpretation explains why the athlete got so worked up and upset, when he received the golden chain.
(chapter 16) He wondered why the athlete had kissed him, which made him realize that it was his first kiss. Therefore I come to the following deduction. Joo Jaekyung will be forced to discover his lover’s like and dislike which will incite him to become more honest about his own desires and passions. We have an allusion to this development in season 1:
(chapter 27) Thanks to his companion, he remembered how much he likes swimming! He had totally repressed it. To conclude, Joo Jaekyung’s travel shouldn’t be just perceived as a journey to the West Coast and Kim Dan’s side, but as an inner journey! He is on his way to discover himself and reconnect to his childhood, or better said to his inner child. This signifies that he is actually following Shin Okja’s footsteps which is regression to childhood. 
(Chapter 27)
(chapter 27) Thus we should see a more gentle 

(chapter 22) Back then, I came to realize that both ukes were associated with the number 2. Shortly after, while making a first portrait of Cheolmin, I noticed that this cute doctor was linked to numbers 1, 3, 4.
At the same time, I connected him to the sky, an angel. As you can observe it, my observations led me little by little to planets and numerology. But the major turning point was, when I perceived Kim Dan as a representative of Saturn
. From that moment on, I came to associate Jinx-characters with gods and as such planets. Hence in the essay
, I made the following connections. Potato was Venus, and his soulmate Choi Heesung is Mercury. Then Joo Jaekyung is Jupiter and the Sun, whereas Kim Dan was Saturn and the Moon. 

That’s how I discovered that Kim Dan was associated with the number 8. Thus in the composition
HEALING! That’s the night Kim Dan got healed.
(chapter 47) and digest the terrible news.
(chapter 47) Thanks to the champion, Kim Dan discovered that he could receive warmth and love from someone else. And now, you can grasp why he was strong enough to give the present to Joo Jaekyung despite his fear, why he could confront his boss in the locker room in episode 51. Thanks to this magical night, he learned that he could stand on his own. He is an adult now. But wait… people might question this interpretation, for there was no teamwork in episode 11.
(chapter 11) When Park Namwook and Kwak Junbeom saw that he was wounded, the manager could detect the doctor’s lie. But what did they do? Nothing, they acted, as if they had not detected his lie. However, don’t forget the champion’s reaction.
(chapter 11) He treated him as an important member of his team, he needed his assistance. Secondly, who helped Kim Dan with his struggles? Joo Jaekyung.
(chapter 11) He might have taken advantage of the situation, yet contrary to the others, he did something despite his ignorance.
(chapter 22) It is important, because it indicates that little by little, Joo Jaekyung is taking over the gym. From that chapter on, he was building his world from the ground”.
(chapter 33), we could see Joo Jaekyung’s success reached its peak, as he had just signed a contract with the Entertainment agency. “Reaching the pinnacles of success” was also reflected in another situation. The champion was allowed to touch his lover’s phallus
(chapter 33), something he had been denied before (chapter 24). Moreover, he was able to get a confession from Kim Dan.
(chapter 33) The latter would react to him, only him could make him cum. Moreover, observe that in the heat of the moment, Kim Dan embraced his lover which surprised both.
(chapter 33) The cute doctor was unconsciously accepting to be intimate with his boss. Thus he whispered to the sportsman. 


But even so, he is not able to look at his VIP client. Kim Dan is the one avoiding the athlete. 
They are no longer avoiding discomfort, a sign that they are getting closer to each other.
Here Manhwa-lovers can detect Joo Jaekyung’s arrogance and detachment. Both were not true to themselves. They were both beating around the bush. No one voiced exactly what they truly desire from each other, for they were not listening to their own heart.
I selected pictures from episode 6, 33 and 51! They are all connected to the same number. This signifies that we should examine the following chapters 6, 15, 24, 33, 42, and 51 as a continuation or better said as reflections. Hence they stand for love, but don’t forget that Venus also embodies fertility, prosperity and victory. How so? She was the ancestor of the Roman people through her son, Aeneas, who survived the fall of Troy and fled to Italy. That’s why she came to symbolize Rome’s imperial power. Yes, these chapters are mirroring a battle, who has the upper hand in the couple. 












(chapter 15) But there’s more to it. It was also a first for the champion. He invited Kim Dan to watch the show. Imagine that he had never invited any sex partner before. Then in episode 24, he listened to the doctor’s request without any complain. Then in episode 33, for the first time, Joo Jaekyung focused on giving Kim Dan’s anal pleasure. It was, as if the star wanted to trigger desires in Kim Dan. Then in episode 42, Joo Jaekyung witnessed that Kim Dan was doing the breakfasts out of “routine” and not out of pleasure. Thus he always fell asleep. On the other hand, the physical therapist got confronted with a rival for the first time. Finally, in episode 51, Joo Jaekyung is now acknowledging Kim Dan as his final doctor. He is voicing his expectation: meticulousity.
(chapter 51) By bringing the topic money
(chapter 51), the champion could finally voice his biggest fear. Deep down, he knew that their relationship was based on money. But with one sentence, the doctor could remove his doubts and insecurities.
(chapter 6)
(chapter 13) and Alfredo
(chapter 47). Remember that for me, Cheolmin is connected to Neptune, hence we have the number 1, 3 and 4. Thus it would validate my hypothesis that at the restaurant, Joo Jaekyung was talking to the cute doctor.
, (chapter 39) In chapter 53, we discover that it was the halmoni’s dream to see the ocean, like we could observe it in his old house.
(chapter 47) As you can see, we have dream and ocean combined together. But if the ocean is connected to dream, how did I come to associate Alfredo with the dark elf? My theory is that the sea also represents the source of his suffering and as such his nightmare. I believe that his parents died drowning which would explain this reaction in the swimming pool.
(chapter 7)
(chapter 37)
(chapter 39) Then his favorable days are Thursday, Tuesday and Friday. And if we combine the days from the two protagonists, there is only Wednesday off.
(chapter 35) We have a 5, but 3+5= 8, the double of 4. Besides, his favorable numbers are 1, 7, 4. Then we would have the explanation why he became more important in episode 22
(chapter 22), why he protected the doctor from Heesung in episode 31
(chapter 31), why he asked for Kim Dan in episode 40 


(chapter 47) Now, you are wondering why I decided to dedicate an essay about this scene. It is because the phone call and message raise a lot of questions. Why did the mysterious man call Kim Dan at such an early hour? Notice that it is in the morning, at 5. 15 am.
(chapter 47)
(chapter 47) The Spanish translator thought, the person calling Kim Dan was contacting him, after the doctor had met the oncologist. She imagined that not much time had passed. Yet, I believe, it is in the morning. First, it is important to place the day in the year. Since Joo Jaekyung’s birthday is on June 21st, and the next match is shortly after
(chapter 47), I deduce that we are in July. However, the
(chapter 47) In Korean, it is written MONDAY!! I had already detected a certain pattern. The protagonist would visit his grandmother on Sundays,
(chapter 47), it was Saturday evening. Then the next day, he went to the hospital in order to get the results. After hearing the terrible news, he lost track of time. Hence he didn’t look at his cellphone contrary to episode 5.
(chapter 5) On the other hand, I don’t think, he visited Shin Okja right after meeting Kim Miseon, for his grandma would have known that he had remained by her side the entire night. Nonetheless, her worries were about eating and not about lack of sleep.
(chapter 47) Thus I come to the conclusion that he spent the whole night at the hospital like in episode 21:
(chapter 21) This explains why the grandmother was not wearing her headgear. She was sleeping. But back then, Kim Dan returned to the penthouse at dawn.
(chapter 21) Therefore the grandma didn’t notice that he had stayed by her side for quite some time, for she was asleep. Hence she requested his presence the next morning. Nonetheless, there exists another difference between chapter 47 and 21. In my eyes, Kim Dan entered her room during the night and spent some time in the bathroom.
(chapter 47) He didn’t approach the bed the same way:
(chapter 21) However, I doubt that he spent just one hour in the restroom covering his tears by running the tap water. 
(chapter 3) Here, he was also sitting on the floor pondering if he should still accept the deal. And what had happened back then? The protagonist was lost in the moment, he had no notion of time because of his fears and social norms. As a first conclusion, Kim Dan spent a lot of time in the bathroom reliving the moment when he was receiving the bad news. This interpretation displays how much his grandmother’s imminent death devastated him. He had spent the entire night crying:
(chapter 47) Therefore he had red eyes. Furthermore, the halmoni’s name is Shin Okja, and Shin can signify “morning, dawn and daybreak”. For me, it is no coincidence. First, it was her moment to shine due to her compassion.
(chapter 21) As a little boy, he had asked his grandmother to never leave his side, unaware that this meant that he should do the same. He should remain by her side too. Yet, he didn’t do it.
(chapter 47) This observation made me realize another aspect. When he heard the diagnosis from Kim Miseon for the first time, he admitted his powerlessness.
(chapter 47) He was in the bathroom crying and kept recalling the terrible monologue from the oncologist. He felt lost and trapped in the same moment. It felt like an eternity for him. But when he listened to his grandmother, bathed in the sunlight, it triggered his memory about his childhood with her. 
(Chapter 47) Not only she had kept her promise, but also through this recollection, he got a notion of time again. We could say, he could feel time again. He sensed her true nature: her mortality. It is important, because of this new realization, he can move on and focus on the future in a long term. That’s the reason why I see this scene as a new leaf for both characters:
(chapter 47) Shin Okja is no longer a goddess, a star during the night… but a human facing her mortality. Besides, the doctor focused too much on money, not realizing that goods are irrelevant in front of death.
Yet, I can refute this point. How so? Note that the caller only let the phone ring 3 times:
(chapter 47) Then he left a message. This stands in opposition to Joo Jaekyung’s action in episode 5:
(chapter 35) He desired to give the impression that he was a hard-working journalist. On the other hand, because he just sent a message, it indicates that the reporter wished to hide, to remain anonymous. In other words, he was hiding his identity behind a name. How so? It is because the champion could not hear his voice at all. Joo Jaekyung can not recognize the journalist contrary to this scene:
(chapter 36) This divergence reveals that the executive director has a different approach than the reporter. The former seeks to „get close to Kim Dan“, while the journalist desired to avoid the famous fighter’s wrath. Shim Yoon-Seok anticipated his reaction. Therefore I have the feeling that the mysterious man contacted the physical therapist so early to create the illusion that it was urgent. They needed him. Interesting is that when the champion received the message from Shim Yoon-Seok, he never questioned how the reporter got his contact.
(Chapter 35) Besides, I noticed that the text from the journalist was ambiguous, especially for the readers.
(Chapter 35) The latter doesn’t claim to be the author of the article. He doesn’t employ the possessive pronoun „my“, then the column doesn’t expose the name of the author. And we have a similar situation with the message.
(chapter 40) A fighter, a prostitute, a lover or a physical therapist? Another difference between the two texts (35 and 47) is that
(Chapter 46) And remember that Mr. Choi used this cellphone to contact his underling, a sign that their relationship was not official and should remain a secret. Hence if the line got cut, then Heo Manwook and Mr. Choi would be forced to meet. As you can imagine, the moment I discovered the connection between „carrier“ and „spam“, I couldn‘t help myself thinking that Mr. Choi might have received the CV from the courier company!!
(Chapter 42) Yes, we have here a text on a cellphone too. Therefore I couldn‘t help myself laughing!! Why? It is because I believe that the schemers are thinking that Kim Dan is a member of Team Black, a fighter, and he is Joo Jaekyung‘s protégé. My reasoning is the following: since my hypothesis is that he got the doctor‘s curriculum vitae through the courier enterprise
(Chapter 46), I doubt that Kim Dan mentioned that he was working as PT for Joo Jaekyung. This would have raised an eye-brow!! His side gig was supposed to be a secret implying that his official work was to be kept hidden as well. Furthermore, I am assuming that Mr. Choi must have tried to figure out Kim Dan based on his CV. He worked for a short time at the hospital and after he chose to take odd jobs. So he could have had a change of heart, he desired to pursue a different career, like for example becoming a professional MMA fighter. I don‘t think, people would mention such a hobby, as it could give a bad impression. Finally, if my theory is correct, then it signifies that Mr. Choi got tipped off by the hidden person from chapter 42.
They are trying to snatch away the favorite athlete from Team Black in order to destabilize Joo Jaekyung mentally
(chapter 23) So they could think, Kim Dan is not questioning the belief too, as he is a fighter. However, in the picture, Kim Dan looked depressed alone. So the picture was exposing his disillusion and Mr. Choi could misinterpret the origins of his disappointment: he was not able to achieve his dream.
(Chapter 26) They could have jumped to the conclusion that Doc Dan was his stage name as a reference to his education and past, unaware that in reality it was indicating his true job. Thanks to @joojaedan, I got access to the original version.
He is addressed as Kim Dan, and @joojaedan told me that he got addressed the same way than the fighter and Joo Jaekyung would call him. I have to admit that I let the app Deepl translate the Korean version. This is what I got:
(Chapter 36) Moreover, this signifies that Baek Junmin is presented as the owner of the gym
(chapter 42) He let it ring three times before texting him in order to catch the doctor’s attention, to distinguish himself from the previous calls (for his job). If so, then Mr. Choi must believe that Kim Dan is being “exploited” by the athlete. Hence the doctor would look so unhappy, when he is alone. In other words, the pictures taken in secrecy would expose the hypocrisy of the celebrity towards the main lead.
(Chapter 35) Here, the actor had planned to confess to him, while the other wanted to divulge the true nature of their relationship:
(chapter 34) It was pure sex, yet the comedian didn‘t get fooled. Joo Jaekyung had feelings for him. Striking is that during that night, the doctor got fooled and this twice!!:
(chapter 34) First, the star knew about the invitation from Choi Heesung. This even caught Kim Dan by surprise. This image exposes that the champion had violated the doctor’s privacy. So how did he know it? We have different possibilities, yet my idea is that he had seen the message!! Thus he replied with a text to Heesung. Besides, observe how he dissuaded the doctor from visiting the actor.
(Chapter 34) He should CALL him… a sign that the champion had not called anyone. Since Mingwa is writing like Byeonduck, I have the feeling that the message from Mr. Choi will be discovered by Joo Jaekyung. Remember how his hyungs had warned him
Kim Dan saw the calls, but he ignored them. 




Sex, interruption, „emergency“, as the champion didn‘t take off his shoes and put down his bag. Then during the intercourse, the doctor was called by the hospital 


Sex, interruption (food), secrecy, manipulation, ignorance and spying. Potato had tried to listen to their conversation. 
Interesting is that here, there was no emergency from the champion‘s part. This time, Kim Dan was the one longing for the athlete.
(Chapter 40) He has no idea that Kim Dan became the victim and got framed later.
(Chapter 46) Furthermore, since Heo Manwook was the one who hired this man
(Chapter 46) What caught my attention is that this athlete definitely boosted his situation by advertising that he was the champion’s sparring partner. I doubt that the main lead‘s criticism was unfounded.
(Chapter 46) By the way, I believe, Seonho was a recent recruit. Therefore he doesn‘t know the champion that well and he is not close to the other fighters. Hence they didn‘t protect him
(Chapter 46) like in episode 1
(chapter 1) He had no idea about the roughness during the sparring, though this scene exposes that the champion had toned down the brutality during the sparring.
(Chapter 46)
(chapter 42) On the other hand, since I am predicting a failure of their scheme, they could decide to take revenge on Seonho by sending him to an illegal fighting game, where he could get badly injured. Moreover, the moment they discover how weak the red-haired man is, they could jump to the impression that Seonho deceived them!! 

(chapter 46) I had even truly perceived his motivations:
(chapter 46) He desired to get revenge on the celebrity. But from my point of view, there exist other reasons for his trick. He was seeking validation for his statement:
(Chapter 46)
(chapter 16) And this raises the following question again.
(chapter 16) This would explain why Heo Manwook would harass the main lead, though he had paid the interests on time.
(chapter 1) Under this new light, it dawned on me why the moneylender interrogated Kim Dan later.
(chapter 45) Yes, the negative reflection from the physical therapist’s. So should the broker indeed have embezzled money, that would be the end between him and Mr Choi. He would be abandoned. However, since my assumption is that the moneylender is laundering money for Mr. Choi, it signifies that the latter is dependent on him as well. However, he could choose to replace him. We could detect through the years that the thugs were switched.
(chapter 46) That’s the reason why the thug had hired the man himself. This confirms that this man
(chapter 40). How so? It is because Heo Manwook doesn’t explain how the plot failed!!
(chapter 23) Back then, he initially denied the existence of intimacy between them, until he was confronted with reality.
(chapter 25) Hence he envied the doctor for his closeness with the celebrity.
(chapter 25) Thus from my point of view, Mr. Choi must have come to a different perception than the maknae:
(chapter 40) Therefore you comprehend why the “fake” agents for order tried to determine his identity.
(chapter 40) He only declared that he was part of his team. They had no idea who the person actually was. However, Joo Jaekyung didn’t realize that through his action, he was bringing attention to the company “TEAM BLACK”. That’s what the criminal saw on the uniform and the jacket! Thus I come to the following deduction: the hired man will report to Heo Manwook the existence of Team Black and its connection with Joo Jaekyung.
(chapter 31) That’s how the actor’s reputation would get affected. As you can see, the actor and Mr. Choi share the same family name. So are they related or not?
(chapter 43) Besides, on his desk, there were photos of the protagonists. But in my eyes, these two persons are totally different. How so?
(Chapter 5) Yet, I can refute their objections with the following points. Jinx is about emancipation and maturity, the leads are encouraged to become responsible and mature men. This signifies that they need to cut off ties with their parents and become strong mentally and emotionally.
(chapter 29) Note that the comedian is promoting himself with Heesung and not his surname.
(chapter 30) It was, as if he didn’t want to be connected to this Mr. Choi. Moreover, contrary to the mysterious director, readers could see his face and identify his “job”: an actor!
(chapter 31) The latter hates conventions, discipline and even control.
(chapter 33) In addition, Grey embodies boredom, neutrality and compromise, while the actor is always trying to “take a side”, to earn people’s admiration. As you can see, through this contrast, it becomes obvious that these two characters are related. The darkness from the relative rubbed off on the actor, for he is able to scheme. Moreover, Mingwa still created some similarities: both faces were first covered.
(chapter 33) Green, whose negative features are greed, jealousy and envy. And what had Heesung done during that day? A prank at the champion’s expense. He wanted to have the doctor for himself. Furthermore, we can grasp why Heesung’s manager complained about this:
(chapter 31) His words expose the greed and selfishness of the CEO from the agency. They are accountable for Heesung’s actions. In my eyes, this condition was made in order to control Heesung, so that the latter would feel responsible for his manager and other employees. It was to push him to „work“. Under this new approach, it dawned on me why Heesung would sponsor lunches to the members from Team Black,
(chapter 30). It was his way to get acceptance and recognition. From my point of view, he occupies a special position at the agency, as if his moves are supervised there. Hence he asked from his manager that the latter would keep the fake injury a secret.
(Chapter 31) As you can see, I sense that Heesung had an ambivalent relationship with his „father“. On the one hand, he rejects him due to his cold-heartedness and high expectations, on the other hand, he was still relying on him and his connections through the agency. In my eyes, he will be forced to choose between love or money in the end.
(chapter 33) My initial theory was that he had been stalked. But he could have left the family house after a huge quarrel. And Mr. Choi is indeed acting like a stalker, though he did not do it himself: the pictures!
(chapter 33) This was the “stalker” working on Mr. Choi’s account. So it dawned on me that Heesung might have been living with his father in the huge building
(chapter 32), until he chose to move out and live on his own. And now, we have the perfect explanation why his house is so clean and impersonal:
(chapter 33) It is because his father probably meddled in his life constantly. I have the impression that he must know about his father’s past and the true origin of their wealth. The fact that he introduces himself as “Heesung” is a sign that he wants to deny his origins, Choi.
(Chapter 33) He had been missing love and warmth too because of his family, exactly like the champion. Both came to a similar conclusion: fame served as a replacement. It was to get recognition and „affection“. The problem is that this type of attachment is rather superficial and temporary, as none of their „admirers“ or „fans“ has to become responsible for them. Moreover, their fortune played a huge role to undermine their relationship.
The house stands for power and propriety. But Choi has another signification.
(Chapter 32) Note that when he was conversing with the celebrity at the bar, he never brought up his jinx.
(Chapter 33) He only criticized Joo Jaekyung for his poor sexual behavior. So where did he hear it? Interesting is that 6 months ago, the champion signed a contract with the Entertainment agency, and this is what Park Namwook confessed to the physical therapist:
(chapter 43) The package arrived right on time.
, (chapter 36), he must have wagered too and lost money. This would explain why he asked the doctor from MFC to give it a go right after. He needed to create a new game in order to cover up the last losses. The problem is that since Mr. Choi wasn’t informed about the incident with the security guys from MFC, I don’t think, he is truly aware of the celebrity’s physical conditions. If he knew about the real diagnosis, he wouldn’t need to investigate Kim Dan. He would rely on time… within such a short time, Joo Jaekyung wouldn’t be able to recover. In fact, he would even bet on the athlete’s defeat once again. Since he saw these pictures, I am quite certain that he is misjudging the relationship between the two protagonists. They are close, hence he needs to sow discord and even plant a seed of doubts on the athlete’s mind.