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 Behind The Emp’s Shadow and The Scent Behind The Jinx
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The Wrong Forecast
Many readers were happy to discover that Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan are about to spend a day at an amusement park. 
(chapter 82) Jinx-Lovers consider it as their first real date, a long-awaited moment of levity after so much pain. But perhaps we should pause and ask: why this place?
Among the brochures 
(chapter 82) scattered on the table, one displays the Eiffel Tower — the obvious choice, symbol of mastery and control. Built for the Exposition Universelle of 1889, it was meant to celebrate France’s industrial power and the centenary of the Revolution — proof that bourgeoisie and steel, not kings and nobility, now ruled the sky and ground. It was even supposed to be dismantled after twenty years, yet it remained, and has since become the symbol of Paris and of France. A monument to progress, modernity, freedom, national pride and endurance.
But the man who picked up these brochures was never a tourist. In the past, Joo Jaekyung would not have chosen any destination at all. He would have stayed inside or trained, untouched by the world outside his window or the gym. 
(chapter 38) Hence in the States he is here turning his back to the window and his only connection to others was through the cellphone. The cities he visited were backdrops, not experiences. He was always alone. And yet, here, something changes in Paris. 
(chapter 82) His hotel room opens onto a broad window and a balcony — an invitation to look out. Secondly, observe that he only proposed this activity after the other members had fallen sick. When doc Dan barged in his room, the champion was doing a one-handed handstand, holding his entire weight as if defying gravity itself 
(chapter 82) and proving his recovery. The posture seemed like control, yet it was closer to self-punishment — an immobility that devoured strength. Blood rushed to his heart and head, but his lungs stayed empty. It was, unconsciously, his way of treating his breathlessness. This also shows that he had no real expectation about the “rest” his manager had suggested 
(chapter 82) — the drinking, the empty and aimless trip (“check out the area”). For the wolf, such a downtime could only mean endurance, not release and excitement. By the way, such a suggestion from Park Namwook borders on stupidity and blindness. How could he propose drinking, when he had seen his “boy” indulged in alcohol before?
(chapter 54) I guess, he must have taken the celebrity’s words at face-value. But let’s return our attention to the panel with the brochures selected by the champion. If you look carefully, you will detect the presence of 4 stars. (chapter 82) They reveal the protagonist’s thoughts and emotions. He is happy!! The news brought by doc Dan was actually good news! 😂 
(chapter 82) How do I come to this interpretation? We have seen these stars before, during Kim Dan’s Summer Night’s Dream: the same glittering symbols of softness and excitement.
(chapter 44) Yet, this time, the little “stars” belong to the celebrity.
For once, the fighter blushes, smiles, and dreams. 
(chapter 82) His choice of the amusement park is not really about himself and his desires— it is an act of care, a wish to give happiness to someone else.
And here, I feel the need to add this information. The most famous theme park next to the capital is Eurodisney which is strongly intertwined with fairy tales (The Little Mermaid 
, Sleeping Beauty 
and Beauty and the Beast 
).Hence there is the castle on the brochure. (chapter 82) This shows that my connection between the fairy tales and Jinx was correct. Eurodisney is a place built for children, stories, and families, where a person’s worth is measured not by conquest but by joy and time shared together. On the other hand, such a funfair cannot be separated from money; it is a space of paid joy, accessible only to families with a certain income. This alone explains why neither Kim Dan nor Joo Jaekyung has ever visited it before. 
(chapter 82) For both, it was financially and emotionally out of question. It grounds the symbolism of the amusement park in social reality, reminding readers that “fun” is also a form of privilege. This means that the champion is actually on his way to replace this picture: 
(chapter 65) So yes, this may look like a simple date. Yet beneath its playful surface lies the quietest revolution of all: the man who once ignored every view now opens the window, looks outward, and chooses wonder and fun over war.
When I first speculated about France, I imagined Cannes — the realm of spectacle, trophies, and bright façades. I was wrong about the destination 
(chapter 81), but not about the geography and air. I had truly detected the importance of this image and its symbolism. The plane that opened this arc spoke not of luxury, but of altitude — of a life lived too high, where oxygen is rationed by pride. Below the aircraft stretch the Alps, which I had correctly identified. From there flows the athlete’s own water – Evian 
(chapter 82) (written Evien in the manhwa) — drawn from the mountain that sustains him and starves him at once.
And now, let me you ask this: what happens to a candle’s flame at high altitude? It flickers, gasps, and finally dies for lack of air. This is exactly what Mingwa foreshadowed in the promotional poster 
(chapter 81): the rising smoke, the suggestion of a light already suffocated. The higher they bring him, the closer he moves to extinction. Besides, the higher he climbs, the harder the fall. In other words, they are trying to break him — to make him fall — something the athlete has already sensed. 
(chapter 82)
It is no coincidence that his opponent in France is an eagle 
(chapter 82) — a creature of heights and thin air, born to dominate the skies where others can barely breathe. The metaphor could not be clearer: altitude is his arena, but also his undoing.
Now they are in Paris, and it is fall — not yet cold because of the presence of the sun. 
(chapter 81) The air remains clear and generous, the sky washed in blue as if nothing could go wrong. Yet the trees, touched by the first copper tones, announce the slow turn of the year. It is a calm, lucid atmosphere, the kind of weather that hides transition inside serenity. The unseen Seine glides through the city like a long breath, steady and effortless.
In this luminous stillness, the champion tries, for the first time 
(chapter 82), to build joy outside the ring (chapter 82) — to borrow light for someone else’s smile. Paris welcomes him not with spectacle, but with ordinary clarity: air that holds both change and peace.
So yes, this may look like a simple date. Yet beneath the gentle brightness lies something deeper: the rest is supposed to treat Joo Jaekyung’s breathlessness. (chapter 82) Everyone has noticed that the athlete has been burning out quickly during training. 
(chapter 82)
So why is he struggling so much with breathing? It is more than just an altitude question.
Airport – Exhaling for the First Time
Like mentioned in the previous essay, the airport symbolizes transition, a sign that both protagonists are gradually changing, but their metamorphosis is not complete. Interesting is that Mingwa focused on the champion’s reaction at the airport which only Jinx-lovers could notice. 
(chapter 81) A single breath — huu — escapes, white against the air. It looks like calm, but it isn’t. It’s the sound of a man forcing his body to obey. The clenched fist that follows betrays him: anxiety condensed into muscle. 
(chapter 81) The champion has descended, yet the altitude still lives inside him.
Every cell of his body is trained to equate success with survival, control with oxygen. Even here, standing on solid ground, he breathes as if a fight were about to begin. His chest expands too sharply; his breath leaves in bursts. The nervous exhale isn’t relief — it’s containment. To conclude, he is tense, because he is anxious. This time, his shoulder is not betraying him 
(chapter 14), but his lungs and heart. Yet at the airport, the sportsman doesn’t realize it (chapter 81) — he is drawn eyeless, suspended in a state of self-control rather than awareness. His brief moment of meditation is still ruled by habit: the reflex of an athlete who measures calm through dominance. For him, success has always been synonymous with survival and such life. Hence later in his bedroom, he recalls his first tournament and defeat 
and makes the following resolution: (chapter 82) But there exists another reason why the athlete’s heart and lungs are betraying him.
The truth behind Joo Jaekyung’s breathlessness
Let me ask you this. When did we hear and see the champion’s breathlessness in the past? 
(chapter 69) Back then, he feared for doc Dan’s life and ran as if his own heart depended on it. His breathlessness wasn’t exhaustion but panic: the instinctive terror of losing the person who keeps him alive. Thus when he saw him alive on the dock, he could start breathing properly: 
(chapter 69) From HUFF to HAA… exhale versus inhale.
Seen under this light, his current symptoms are no mystery. What burns him out in training isn’t merely overwork—it’s fear disguised as stamina. 
(chapter 82) His brain and heart remember that night at the dock; every harsh inhale during practice echoes that same dread of separation.
Before his collapse, the opponent Arnaud Gabriel had casually flirted with his “fated partner.” 
(chapter 82) And how did the champion respond to that provocation? Like a cornered animal. 
(chapter 82) He became the wolf again, not out of jealousy, but out of survival reflex—his body screaming its panic in place of words. In that instant, he was reminded that he could lose doc Dan as a partner, that the bond he relies on might not belong to him forever.. The roar emptied his chest; his lungs gave out before his pride did. There was no air left in his body… thus the heart and lung couldn’t work properly.
That’s why the “burnout” (chapter 82) after training feels different this time. It’s not a failure of strength but a signal from the body, revealing what he refuses to confess: his greatest fear is no longer defeat—it’s loss. And that’s what makes him so human. For the first time, the indestructible champion stands on the same ground as Oh Daehyun—both breathless, both weary, both trapped between expectation and emotion. The difference is that Jaekyung’s fatigue is not born of rivalry but of love. In other words, this scene announces the vanishing of the monster the manager had tried to create and preserve. 
(chapter 75) The fearsome beast who once fought for dominance is gone. What remains is a tamed wolf, following his master’s voice (doc Dan) — not out of submission, but because he finally trusts where it leads. 
(chapter 82) He is now a tamed wolf following his master’s suggestions! 
(chapter 82) Thus the coach is now facing the couple. And now, my avid readers can understand why the champion seems almost radiant when he finds himself alone with doc Dan at the amusement park. It is not mere joy or freedom; it is the relief of finally acting from desire instead of duty (chapter 82) For once, he can do what he truly wants — to make the man beside him breathe.
The motivation behind this “date” goes beyond playfulness. It is his way of returning the gift he once received. Remember the birthday card (chapter 55): 
(chapter 55)
“Thanks to you, I finally feel like I can breathe again.” That card became the emblem of hope — a promise of redemption. Joo Jaekyung had been able to bring the physical therapist comfort and support in the past, so he can do it again. If he can help doc Dan breathe freely, without fear or debt, then perhaps he himself can breathe without fear as well. In other words, we should expect a confession in the future episodes.
“I Won’t Fall Again” — Gravity, Shame, and the Vow
Falling is actually the champion’s biggest fear. (chapter 82) That’s why Mingwa confronted him with reality, when she stages doc Dan’s unconscious suicidal attempt in front of the railing: 
(chapter 79) The scene functions as both mirror and revelation: it forces the fighter to face the truth he has avoided all his life. In the past, he had never truly fallen. His defeats were painful, but never fatal; his failures never signified the end of a life. He could always stand up again — until now. Watching Kim Dan lean over the edge forces him to confront the difference between metaphor and mortality.
But this rises the following question. Why does he associate his first tournament (chapter 82) with fall (chapter 82)? After all, that match ended only in a knockout, not in death. The answer lies at home. The boy’s first image of defeat was not his own body in the ring, but his father’s corpse on the floor 
(chapter 73) – surrounded by bottles and syringes (chapter 73). Addiction, gambling, and intoxication: all ways of trying to rise above reality, to feel high, if only for a moment. Joo Jaewoong quite literally died from altitude, from chasing a false form of air. His father had tried to climb the social ladder through sport, to escape the poverty that trapped them, but he had failed. Those words 
(chapter 73), thrown like stones by the father at his son, buried themselves in the boy like shards.. They echoed like a curse — a prophecy Joo Jaekyung would spend his whole life disproving.
The young Jaekyung saw and understood. When he collapsed during his first tournament, finishing third because there were no other opponents (chapter 82), he has the same posture of that corpse — arms spread, breath gone, waiting for someone to call him back to life. Back then, his father was still alive, but didn’t care for him. However, such a position announced the future demise of Joo Jaewoong. He had fallen out of excess; he fell out of weakness. Both were conquered by gravity, one literally, the other symbolically.
But the mother’s departure turned that fall into reality. She left the house claiming that the father’s violence and failure were to blame 
(chapter 72) 
(chapter 72), yet she made no attempt to build an independent life. Her survival had always depended on his success — and when his career crumbled, she vanished with it. That’s the reason why the trash remained uncollected — a visual proof of abandonment 
(chapter 72) But the little boy failed to notice it, because he was suffering from the father’s abuse. Before leaving, she gave her son a phone number, as if absence were only temporary, as if love could be reached through a dial tone. That small gesture sustained an illusion: that she would come back if he became strong enough, rich enough, worthy enough. That illusion became the foundation of his life.
Thus he trained obsessively, demanding to compete even as an elementary student 
(chapter 72) His first fight was not about trophies — it was an act of filial negotiation: a promise to buy her return. But of course, 300 dollars could not rebuild a family. His first fall became the confirmation of her silence. This explicates why he recalls his first tournament and considers it as “fall”. He had not been able to win, thus the mother could not return. He doesn’t fight for glory or passion; he fights to avoid being discarded again. So, when he says “I won’t fall again,” what he really means is “I won’t let myself be unloved again.”
In other words, he wanted to climb in order to rebuild the missing bridge to his mother. 
(chapter 72) But the problem is that when he was finally able to reach his mother, the latter answered that Joo Jaekyung was too late. The mother’s words sealed the curse. He was “already grown up now” 
(chapter 74), hence he no longer needed her — as if maturity meant he no longer needed love. She actually implied that she had been all this time by his side. 
(chapter 74), while in reality, she had long abandoned him. Her departure turned growth into punishment, and independence into exile. This explicates why as an adult, he used money to buy people and turn them into toys. This could only make appear as a spoiled brat.
He built his entire life around that promise, standing against gravity like an inverted pillar. The body that once touched the ground became a monument to refusal. He had to reach the sky, to remain in the air. Thus he chose the penthouse as his new home.
But defying gravity comes at a cost. He trained to stay upright until breathing became difficult due to the thin air. Breathing itself became rebellion. Every gasp of air reminded him of the father’s last exhale. Every victory was a way of proving that he could resist both descent and inheritance. Yet the same vow that kept him standing also froze him in place: a man always in motion, never resting.
When Kim Dan almost fell from the railing (chapter 79), the scene echoed this primal fear. The champion’s hand reaching out was more than reflex — it was salvation in reverse. By catching the doctor, he was symbolically catching his father, his mother, and the child he once was. In that single gesture, he refused to let history repeat itself.
The sentence “I won’t fall again” is no longer just a boy’s defense; it is a man’s confession. It reveals the weight he carries: the fear of becoming the very body he once found on the floor, the terror of losing the one person who gave him air. Through doc Dan, Joo Jaekyung learns that grounding himself is not failure but healing: he must get closer to the ground to draw air back into his lungs.
And now, we can understand why he chose the amusement park over the Eiffel Tower. The fighter who once chased altitude now seeks balance at earth level. His goal is not to impress through grandeur or wealth, but to care, to laugh, to rebuild joy together.
By choosing play over pride, he is attempting to rewrite his history — to erase the legacy of his parents’ abandonment and failure. What once was a vow against falling now becomes a lesson in how to stand, breathe, and love on common ground. Hence he looked for attractions and found these brochures. He didn’t want to leave it to fate contrary to his hyung.
Breathlessness and Youth
Before focusing on the funfair, I would like to give another explanation for his sudden breathlessness. (chapter 82) In chapter 82, both Yosep and the manager interpret the champion’s shortness of breath in purely technical terms. Yosep assumes it comes from his long absence from the ring, while Park Namwook agrees — eager to reduce fatigue to mere physiology. Their reasoning sounds plausible, yet it misses the core truth.
Joo Jaekyung’s breathlessness was never an issue before. 
(chapter 79) Even Park Namwook himself, only days earlier, had described the French match as 
(chapter 81) “a breeze” — a fight so effortless that it would bring some fresh air into the champion’s career. But that metaphor betrays its irony: what was supposed to refresh him is now suffocating him. The “breeze” promised by his manager has turned into lack of air.
If his lungs are giving out, it is not from lack of training, but from an excess of negative feelings. This is the paradox of his transformation. The man who once lived like stone — unyielding, heavy, immovable — is now becoming light, emotional, alive. His body, once used only for control, now responds to affection, anxiety, and loss. He is breathless because he has begun to feel again.
Interesting is that (chapter 79), the break is perceived differently, depending on the situation. (chapter 82) In one scene, the break is seen as a good opportunity, in the other not(“out of the game”). Besides, at no moment, they are using the word “recovery”, as if the man had never been surged.
What neither man notices is that the athlete’s body had already changed during that so-called “break.”
In truth, he had caught a cold 
(chapter 70) — a detail no one around him ever learned. This simple fact overturns their interpretation. 
(chapter 70) The breathlessness they see now is not a decline in performance, but the residue of transformation. His body, once trained to suppress every weakness, had finally surrendered to nature.
The cold, therefore, was not an illness but a rebirth — the first genuine sign of rejuvenation.
The first sneeze burst out like a leftover gasp from the night of panic at the dock (chapter 69): an involuntary release of fear and tension. Flooded with air and emotion, his body responded the only way it knew how — by collapsing into vulnerability. It was the moment when the emperor turned into a man, when the monument learned to breathe.
This was not simple fatigue; it was renewal.
For the first time in years, his system behaved like that of a human being, not a machine. The flushed cheeks, the runny nose, the dazed look — all marked a regression to childhood, an age when feelings could still flow freely. Before, he had never been breathless, because he was living like a zombie or a machine ignoring pain. Breathlessness had once been a symptom of repression; the cold became the body’s quiet revenge, proof that he could still react, still feel.
In this sense, the cold acts as metaphorical cleansing — an expulsion of the stale air he had been holding since childhood. The “monster” that Park Namwook wished to preserve (chapter 75) was finally dissolving. What replaced it was something fragile yet alive. But Yosep and Park Namwook, more obsessed with performance and profit, mistook this renewal for decline.
This connection between breathlessness and youth extends beyond Joo Jaekyung. We’ve seen another fighter gasping for air — Seonho 
(chapter 46), whose clash with the champion exposes two different forms of frustration.
It begins with Jaekyung’s own accusation. 
(chapter 46) He reproaches Seonho for using his title and image to promote himself, for bragging about their sparring sessions to boost his career. From his perspective, Seonho lacks both endurance and authenticity — he performs strength rather than living it. 
(chapter 46) For Jaekyung, such behavior is intolerable because it cheapens everything he has sacrificed to achieve.
But Seonho’s retaliation strikes closer to the heart. 
(chapter 46) He turns on Jaekyung and accuses him of arrogance — of using his champion title to look down on others. What Seonho perceives as disdain is, in truth, the athlete’s defense mechanism. The star’s detachment is not born from pride but from obligation and trauma (abandonment issues).
For years, he has been forced to be perfect — the faultless product that Yosep and Park Namwook can market and control. 
(chapter 46) His perfection is not freedom; it is captivity.
The irony is cruel: Seonho envies what Jaekyung himself resents deep down. He is not happy.
One gasps because he cannot reach the summit; the other because he can never descend and have a family. Both are breathless — trapped at different altitudes of the same illusion. In this light, breathlessness becomes the shared symptom of youth distorted by ambition. For Seonho, it signals decline — the body’s inability to keep up with the illusion of eternal strength.
For Jaekyung, it marks the end of the illusion itself — the beginning of human fatigue, emotion, and rebirth.
Under this light, it became comprehensible why Seonho 
(chapter 52) tried to recruit Potato, the youngest member from Team Black. He wanted to become the new idol of Hwang Yoon-Gu. He imagined that he could replace the main lead and Potato would be happy to become the new sparring partner of Seonho.
And this prepares the ground for his encounter with Arnaud Gabriel, the “eagle” who embodies yet another version of false air 
(chapter 82) — a beauty that glides but never lands. Like Seonho, Gabriel thrives on appearance — on surfaces polished by attention. His beauty, elegance, and social charisma are his weapons. He lives in the air of visibility, relying on wind — the shifting currents of social media 
(chapter 81) 
(chapter 82) and press coverage — to lift his name higher. That’s why Mingwa made sure to show him at the press conference. 
(chapter 82) Every post, every camera flash, every headline serves as borrowed oxygen.
We see him carefully maintaining this illusion of effortless flight: (chapter 82) posing in his new suit for the press conference, his public image as flawless as his wings.
(chapter 82) Yet beneath that composure lies dependency. Gabriel’s power exists only as long as others keep watching, as long as the wind keeps blowing. His world is made of altitude — but the higher one flies, the thinner the air becomes. But if there is no wind or air, the eagle can no longer fly. This is palpable on two occasions, his encounter with the two male leads.
When he flirts with doc Dan (chapter 82), Gabriel still speaks in French — creating an act of exclusion. The physical therapist can’t understand a word, but the eagle doesn’t care; comprehension isn’t the goal, impression is. The wink replaces language, turning seduction into spectacle. It’s not meant for dialogue but for display — a gesture meant to be seen, not felt. He imagines that he has wooed the physical therapist.
He doesn’t wait for a reply; he simply turns away, leaving Doc Dan behind. 
(chapter 82) The grin that follows is one of self-satisfaction and superficiality, not connection. It’s the smile of a man admiring his own reflection in another’s confusion — proof that he controls both the scene and the gaze. This shows that he had no intention to make the protagonist jealous. And it is clear that he never saw the wolf’s rage afterwards. (chapter 82)
But why did he approach the Emperor, after he had left the spotlight? One might say that it was to get his attention and provoke a reaction. The same arrogance colors his handshake with Joo Jaekyung. Gabriel greets him with a polished smile and an extended hand, yet his words carry a double edge: (chapter 82)
- “I know this is your return match, but I won’t go easy on you.” Behind the polite phrasing hides mockery and calculation. The smile is diplomatic; the tone, predatory. By choosing to speak in French, through an interpreter, he asserts distance and superiority. It is not a language barrier — it is a form of hierarchy.
- “Good luck with your training,” he pretends to wish him well while quietly diminishing its target. The implication is clear: you’ll need it. The eagle knows about the champion’s surgery and exploits that knowledge beneath a façade of charm. Every word he utters, whether to Jaekyung or Dan, is a performance — a test of power disguised as civility.
Everything is pointing out that Gabriel knows more than he admits. His remark reveals that he is fully aware of the champion’s surgery and the rumors surrounding it. He could even know about the drinking and his “lack of stamina”. (chapter 82) The line echoes in irony. On the surface, it invokes sportsmanship; beneath it, it suggests that Jaekyung’s previous victories were not clean — that his reign was tainted by aggression or controversy. Yet the true paradox lies elsewhere: Gabriel himself knows that this match is anything but clean. He is exploiting Jaekyung’s weakened condition, confident that he will prevail against a half-healed opponent. That’s why the athlete was encouraged to appear in a suit. 
(chapter 82) That way, his “vulnerability” would be masked. No one would question the champion’s health. And this brings me to my next observation.
This duplicity mirrors the logic of Hwang Byungchul, the old coach who once criticized Jaekyung for fighting too soon after his shoulder surgery 
(chapter 70). Both men embody the same cruelty disguised as professionalism — one in the ring, the other from the shadows. They blame the champion for the new match, none of them question the system.
Gabriel’s arrogance, therefore, is not personal but systemic. He represents the world that raised Jaekyung: a world where weakness is mocked, empathy is absent or a lip-service, and “clean fights” exist only as public performances. That’s why he stands for fun. He has never truly challenged “dangerous opponents”. The eagle’s flight is powered by the same wind that once blew through the director’s gym — the cold air of superiority. This means that unlike Joo Jaekyung, the eagle has never faced real turbulence.
Gabriel has lived in an atmosphere of praise, never subjected to the kind of hostility that constantly surrounded the champion. He has not endured the venom of hateful comments 
(chapter 36) or the media’s harsh verdicts after defeat 
(chapter 54), when analysts accused Jaekyung of recklessness for returning to the ring too soon, though he had problems with his shoulder. Gabriel’s fame soars above such storms — sustained by admiration, not endurance. Hence he is posting selfies.
(chapter 82) However,, Joo Jaekyung is no longer attached to his cellphone and the virtual world. What he truly wants now is real and true love from doc Dan. (chapter 82) This explains why he is seen interacting more and more directly with fans and this outside! 
(chapter 82) He is now seen signing autographs 
(chapter 82), whereas in the past, he was only seen in company of reporters in a secluded area. 
(chapter 40)
But this match carries a hidden danger. It was secretly arranged by the CEO, a fact still unknown to the public. Should Jaekyung win, the backlash could fall not on the loser, but on the victor. Critics could accuse the champion of avoiding a real challenge — of selecting an easy, lower-ranked opponent (chapter 81) rather than facing the fighters in first or second place. 
(chapter 69) The victory would be branded as hollow, a publicity stunt rather than an athletic achievement.
Yet this very accusation could threaten Gabriel as well. By calling him weak, the same commentators who once worshipped his image would strip him of his core identity: that of an athlete. (chapter 81) He wants to be admired as the hottest male figure in the sport, but admiration without credibility is only ornament. If his skill is questioned, his entire persona collapses.
Thus, both men stand on fragile ground — one condemned for winning, the other diminished by losing. Gabriel’s elegance and Jaekyung’s strength mirror each other’s curse: both are trapped in a world where value exists only in the eyes of others, and where even victory can feel like a fall. However, this can change, if this fight becomes a true spectacle, and is born out of love! But the air that sustains Gabriel is not the same that now fills Jaekyung’s lungs.
The eagle rises through applause; the wolf begins to rise through love. Liebe verleiht Flügel (German) — love gives wings — but these wings do not lift him away from the world. They carry him closer to it, toward the ground, toward life and fun.
The Amusement Park and its Ferris Wheel — Circles of Breath and Light
If the Eiffel Tower was built to celebrate height and conquest, the Ferris wheel, 
(chapter 82) first unveiled at the World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893, was created to transform height into play. Conceived by engineer George Washington Ferris as America’s answer to the Parisian tower, it sought to outshine France not through steel alone, but through motion — a structure that would rise and fall, carrying ordinary people with it. Unlike the fixed tower, the wheel invited participation: passengers would move together, share the air, rise and descend without fear. It was both monument and moment — a way to democratize the sky.
That is the kind of altitude Joo Jaekyung chooses.
After years of living at the top — in the isolating stillness of the champion’s penthouse, the rooftop — he now turns to a form of shared elevation. The Ferris wheel becomes his antidote to the rigid hierarchy that once defined his life. Here, there are no rankings, no first or second place, only circular motion. One rises while another descends, but both will meet again. It is the geometry of equality — and the perfect metaphor for breathing. This means that, by choosing the Ferris wheel, Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan experience a gentle form of falling — one that no longer hurts.
Each rotation of the wheel is an inhale and exhale; ascent and descent, effort and release.
Inside the small cabin, air is shared. Love and life become visible through motion rather than achievement. The attraction’s design embodies the very thing Jaekyung and Dan have been learning all along: balance.
For the doctor, whose childhood was shaped by financial limits and emotional debt, the wheel offers what he never had — the chance to look at people from above, to rise without cost or guilt. For the champion, it restores what he lost — the ability to enjoy altitude without suffocating, to associate height not with fear, fame, or trauma, but with wonder. In that cabin, surrounded by laughter and sky, they can both breathe again.
But the symbolism extends further.
The Ferris wheel stands in sharp contrast to the highway, the modern symbol of depression and disconnection. As psychologists have noted, this kind of highway thinking characterizes the depressed and overdriven mind. It is the mental state of someone who keeps moving forward in a single direction — not out of purpose, but out of inertia. The brain becomes trapped in one lane, incapable of detouring, exploring, or slowing down. Over time, this creates a kind of perceptual tunnel: a world reduced to one goal, one fear, one story.
I watched this documentary, but it is in French https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5YcH5X5Xgo
In depression, this narrowing becomes pathological. The mind loses its ability to imagine alternatives, to see side roads or landscapes beyond the straight line ahead. Reality shrinks into a one-dimensional track — progress without perspective. The obsession with direction replaces the experience of life itself: one keeps accelerating or slowing down, chasing milestones, yet the inner landscape remains unchanged. This is how I came to connect these three scenes:
| Chapter 33 | Chapter 56 | Chapter 69 |
|---|---|---|
 That reflects the champion’s mind-set, his narrow-mindedness. But keep in mind that during that evening, the champion made a detour, he was disturbed by the destination/ goal:  |  Here the athlete has only one goal: talk to doc Dan and clean the air. He has no intention to truly rekindle with him  Thus he is still stuck in a traffic jam. |  Here, there is a progression, because he can switch the lane. However, he is still driving in one direction, not looking out of the window. He is not taking his time either. These scenes illustrate the champion’s psychological confinement and mirror doc Dan’s mindset as well. |
And now, look at the streets of Paris. (chapter 82) They look rather empty, yet we can see a crossroad — a sign that the champion’s mentality has improved. He is no longer narrow-minded or trapped in one lane. However, the high peak ahead represents the amusement park, because there, the destination is not important. There is no order or hierarchy either.
This is why healing requires not just rest but multi-perspectivity — the rediscovery of curves, loops, and crossings. The the funfair and Ferris wheel become the perfect antidote: it teaches that movement can be circular, playful, shared, and above all, reversible. Instead of racing toward a fixed destination, the wheel allows return, variation, and exchange. It reawakens the part of the brain that knows how to wonder. But the funfair offers other possibilities as well: the roller coasters. (chapter 82) The latter teach courage.They carry within them the echo of Jaekyung’s greatest fear: falling. But here, the fall is transformed into exhilaration. What once symbolized loss, shame, and trauma now becomes thrill and laughter. The mechanical descent reclaims the forbidden emotion; it gives the body permission to scream, to release control, to fall without dying.
Joo Jaekyung’s life before Kim Dan was precisely that: a mental highway.
Every victory led only to the next, every title erased the one before. The more he advanced, the less he lived. His body, disciplined into automation, had forgotten the curve of joy — the possibility of turning, pausing, returning. The Ferris wheel and the roller coasters break that pattern. The Ferris Wheel reintroduces circularity, where movement is not escape but rhythm, where the goal is not ascent but repetition with difference and observation. From there, you can look at your surroundings. 
(chapter 75)
This is where Mingwa’s visual irony reaches its height.
The man who once swore, (chapter 82) now voluntarily steps into a machine that promises nothing but falling — and smiles. What once represented humiliation now produces joy. This reversal is the purest expression of healing: when what once wounded becomes what restores.
Together, the Ferris wheel and the roller coasters offer two complementary forms of breath.
One teaches rhythm — the inhale and exhale of life. The other teaches release — the scream that clears the lungs. And then, it came to my mind that such a theme park could offer bumper cars — small machines of collision and laughter. Unlike the Ferris wheel or the roller coaster, they don’t offer height or speed but contact. Here, impact is stripped of danger; the crash becomes a form of play. The goal is not to avoid others but to meet them — to touch, collide, and burst out laughing. In this attraction, aggression loses its sting and turns into connection.
One shows that peace is possible in repetition; the other shows that freedom lies in motion. Laughter becomes medicine for the two breathless men, but contrary to the past, this time, doc Dan will see the happiness written on his loved one’s face. So far, he has never paid attention to his genuine smiles: 
(chapter 27) 
(chapter 80) He has not grasped that he can make the champion happy. In fact, this day would represent a real break and rest, as they would learn nothing, only make new experiences so that life can appear colorful again. Here, we can see two balloons in the form of heart: green and yellow. (chapter 82) Once they enter this world, they will discover a world full of magic and lights.
And now, imagine this. If there was a love confession in that theme park, this could bring tears of joy, the opposite of these scenes 
(chapter 52) a kid versus a grown-up, both rejected and silenced. 
(chapter 74) Joo Jaekyung would have achieved his goal: even vulnerable or childish, he is still lovable.
Both stand against the straight line of the highway — the depressive geometry of one-way thinking. The park and its attractions offer circles and loops instead, motions that bring one back to the self, not away from it. They turn fear into fun, control into connection.
If the highway is the architecture of burnout, the amusement park with its attractions is the architecture of recovery.
On the road, time accelerates; in the air, it expands.
On the highway, one is alone even among traffic; on the wheel, one is secluded but among people — the paradox of safe intimacy. Inside the cabin, the couple is both visible and hidden, surrounded by other voices yet enclosed in their own breath. It’s a fragile cocoon where public space becomes private moment, where affection can exist without fear of intrusion.
This is the healing structure of Jinx’s Paris arc. (chapter 82) The wheel is not a symbol of escape from the world but reconciliation with it. At the same time, it feels like a reverence to the fairy tales and their famous ending: 
(chapter 41) They were destined to be together and lived happily.
It redefines air: no longer something to conquer or control, but something to share. The circular motion mirrors the psychological rhythm that both men have been denied — the ability to rise and fall without shame, to let life move through them rather than resist it.
Even the mechanics of the wheel resonate with their journey. It turns slowly, patiently; it demands trust. Once aboard, there’s no way to force speed or direction. One must surrender — to the mechanism, to the air, to the view. It is the perfect opposite of Jaekyung’s former life, where every second was measured, every breath controlled. Now, he can do nothing but sit, look, and breathe.
And there is more. The wheel’s origin — a response to France’s Eiffel Tower — completes the symbolic circle between the two monuments. The Eiffel Tower represented competition between nations, a masculine monument to progress, mastery, and endurance. The Ferris wheel transformed that spirit into something inclusive: it turned height into experience, individual triumph into collective wonder. Hence the Ferris Wheel exists in France and in other cities. This is exactly the transformation Jaekyung undergoes. The fight is no longer vertical — him against the world — but circular, relational, shared.
Seen from a distance, the wheel glows like a moving constellation — a ring of stars rotating in the night.
In the earlier chapters, stars appeared above Jaekyung’s brochures (chapter 82) to signal his quiet happiness, mirroring the stars that once surrounded Kim Dan’s laugh (chapter 44). The Ferris wheel reanimates that motif. Each cabin is a star, and together they form a galaxy of moments — proof that light can move without burning out, that joy can repeat without fading.
In that sense, the Ferris wheel is more than a date setting. It is a machine of breath: a gentle, mechanical reminder that even steel can carry tenderness, that love — not ambition — is what truly gives flight.
Love gives wings — but not the kind that seek altitude. These wings move in circles, not lines. They return to where they began, bringing both men back to the ground lighter than before. To conclude, the birthday card contained the key how to rekindle with the physical therapist and win his heart: 
(chapter 55)
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(chapter 53), yet she kept her distance. Observe that she only talked about one time experience. She sensed its danger and built her life on the solid ground of caution, duty, and control. In other words, she belongs to the world of the shore 
(chapter 28) and learn that not everything can be postponed or entrusted to someone else. Water, in this sense, rejects fatalism. It calls for motion, for risk, for personal responsibility.
(chapter 80) And that intuition resurfaced and was confirmed in episode 80, when another day off brings the couple back to the pool. This time, the doctor steps into the water willingly. 
(chapter 80) He is no longer the man waiting to be rescued; he is the man learning how to swim. The champion’s words 
(chapter 80) distill the new doctrine: don’t wait for salvation 
(chapter 80), create your own buoyancy. Between the first swim 
(chapter 27) and this second lies the true point of no return—where superficial judgment turns into reflection, dependency into self-trust 
(chapter 80) and the rejection of powerlessness, 
(chapter 28) into the first stirrings of love 
(chapter 80).
(chapter 53) Safety lay in patience and dependence. Even when she later spoke with the champion by the sea, she avoided mentioning the ocean —as if to deny that any movement beyond her control could exist.
(chapter 65) 
(chapter 80) Yet her absence from the pool scene is precisely what reveals her theology of avoidance. The pool was never her domain because her life revolves around work, not pleasure. She has no notion of rest without guilt, no concept of joy detached from utility. For her, swimming would appear frivolous—something “unnecessary” as long as one stays on solid ground. Jinx-philes should keep in mind that she never gave such a task to Joo Jaekyung. Her instructions to him were always practical, delegating care outward: take him back to Seoul, bring him to a big hospital and make sure he’s safe. 
(chapter 65) When she sees them together, her first reaction is not pride or relief but mild reproach— doc Dan should have left already. 
(chapter 78) The subtext is unmistakable: she expected obedience, efficiency, not attachment. Furthermore, her final instruction—“Make sure you see a doctor regularly”— 
(chapter 78) sounds like ordinary concern, yet it hides her familiar logic of blame. It is as if she were implying that Joo Jaekyung has failed to fulfill her favor because Kim Dan has resisted care. In her eyes, the grandson is still the one responsible for trouble; the athlete’s role remains that of the dependable proxy who must “fix” him. What makes this moment striking is her tone of urgency, so unlike her habitual fatalism. The woman who once repeated “I’m the same as always” 
(chapter 65) suddenly speaks as though time is running out. 
(chapter 77), respect and care. What she calls delay is, in truth, meditation and transformation.
(chapter 80) It was her graduation gift, yet it had nothing to do with his new profession or status. In contrast, the first episode already shows Kim Dan in a blue therapist’s uniform, name tag neatly pinned — a garment he must have purchased himself. 
(chapter 1) Traditionally, a graduation present helps the recipient embark on a career — like for example, a watch, a suit, or even a briefcase — symbols of adult entry into the job market. By offering him a hoodie instead, she unconsciously devalued her grandson’s professional worth. The garment belongs to the domestic sphere, not the workplace; it wraps him in comfort rather than readiness. In a moment meant to celebrate his arrival into public life, she reinscribes him into the private one — the house, the caretaker role, the obedient child. He doesn’t look like someone who went to university. 
(chapter 47) There was no curiosity about his career, no acknowledgment of his competence—only the quiet satisfaction that through her endurance, she had produced a “doctor.” In the graduation photo, she even wears the mortarboard herself, smiling with the pride of someone who believes the diploma justifies a lifetime of sacrifice. Her grandson’s success confirms her own virtue; his “adulthood” validates her survival. This question to the athlete exposes her lack of interests in his profession: 
(chapter 65)
(chapter 41) While dying, she reduces love to an equation of productivity: “Dan, it’s important to give back as much as you take.” The verb do anchors her worldview — love must be measurable, visible, earned through action. To do good by someone means to labor for them, not to rest beside them. What caught my attention is that neither doctor 
(chapter 27) nor the champion employs the expression “vacation” or “break”. 
(chapter 80) Why? It is because they never experienced a break. We have to envision that the “hamster” must have followed his grandmother, when he was not busy studying or working. Both main leads never experienced a real vacation. They say a day off, as if the day itself didn’t really exist, as if it were a temporary pause between “real” time. In their inherited logic, only work gives time its value; everything else evaporates. The grandmother’s way of loving has turned rest into an absence, something unworthy of being named. However, observe that there’s a gradual change in doc Dan’s vocabulary: 
(chapter 80) The problem is that for the hamster, only the athlete is worthy of getting his rest. It still doesn’t belong to his world.
(chapter 5) the focus remains mechanical. Eating is fuel; sleep is maintenance. But rest, in the sense of surrender, stillness, or joy, is foreign to her lexicon.
(chapter 47) is, in truth, a legend she wrote about herself. When Kim Dan recalls that “she’s never had a day’s rest,” the statement reveals more about his belief than about her reality. The woman who claimed endless labor also knew the comfort of “weekends” 
(chapter 30) — she watched The Fine Line, the very drama that made Choi Heesung famous. The detail seems trivial, yet it exposes everything: she had leisure 
(chapter 30), she simply refused to call it that. Watching television was permitted because it was passive, solitary, and could be rationalized as recuperation, not pleasure. In contrast, genuine rest — time shared, chosen, or joyful — never existed in her vocabulary. What she denied was not the existence of rest but the act of resting with him. She kept her downtime to herself, as if peace were a private possession. For her, love meant providing, not accompanying. Yet true care requires presence — sharing is caring, as the saying goes. [For more read this essay: 
(chapter 65) displays that she perceives her grandson’s exhaustion not as suffering but as malfunction, as if the human were a device that could be recalibrated through work and pills. That’s why her favors revolves about living conditions, but not about his “happiness”. Perhaps she genuinely hoped that the drugs and the stability of a “regular job” with the champion would realign him, as though routine alone could fix what grief and deprivation had unbalanced.
(chapter 65) Her constant bookkeeping—every favor tallied, every gift framed as trouble—betrays a hidden fear: that if she stops keeping score, she will lose him. Rather than grant him autonomy, she entrusts him to another caretaker. Sending him to the champion is not an act of faith but of resignation, a way to offload responsibility while maintaining the illusion of control.
(chapter 11), scarf tied under her chin, carrying a single sweet bun. She doesn’t need to say she “went out of her way”—her action already proclaims it. The effort is the gift. 
(chapter 11) That simple walk to the store becomes a moral event, proof of affection through fatigue. 
(chapter 11) Even the smallest purchase is framed as sacrifice. The sweet bread itself—a cheap red bean bun—is less nourishment than testimony: “Look what I endured for you.” If he had followed her, he would have seen that it didn’t take so much effort and money to buy the “present”. Finally, he had to share the sweet bread with his grandmother.
(chapter 53) —perhaps the signing of the loan. “You’re a doctor now; you’ll pay it off quickly.” 
(chapter 80) In her eyes, generosity always justified expectation. The flowers were for display; the hoodie was the contract.
(chapter 65) and the future 
(chapter 65), what he would one day repay 
(chapter 47). The present moment existed only as a bridge between past sacrifice and future obligation. The embrace is conditional — a rehearsal for independence, not tenderness. In that instant, love is already an investment waiting for return. The teddy bear pressed between them, once a symbol of innocence and comfort, becomes collateral in this emotional economy: the pledge that he will someday “grow up,” earn, and pay back the care that raised him. Even at the graduation, she treated the day not as fulfillment but as record keeping. 
(chapter 41) When Dan gifts his grandmother an expensive scarf, he hides its true price — “I got it for a bargain” — repeating her own pattern of disguised generosity. She sees through the lie, teasing him for “spoiling” her, yet she accepts the luxury without feeling guilty. The scarf becomes her version of the hoodie: a fabric trophy of moral worth. But its later disappearance is revealing. In season two, she wears it 
(chapter 56) shortly after her arrival at the hospice, never again. When she greets Joo Jaekyung, the scarf is gone 
(chapter 61). Why? One might reply that the scarf lost its value, especially since she is living next to the director’s room. I doubt that such men would pay attention to such an object. Another possibility is that she fears its brightness might betray her neglect, for the champion has lived with her grandson for a while. How could she display silk while her grandson owns almost nothing? 
(chapter 80) The missing scarf thus exposes both her superficiality and exaggerated generosity. Her affection, like her pride, is short-lived — decorative rather than enduring. Should Heesung ever visit her, 
(chapter 80) The gesture that once symbolized love now feels like pain and loss. The signification of the gift has changed. What once wrapped him in safety now weighs like absence — the fabric retains the shape of someone who is about to vanish. His silence is not understanding but hurt, a wordless awareness that affection can curdle into memory. The audience, not the character, perceives that with the grandmother’s approaching death, her ledger is about to close. The gray fabric, once proof of her sacrifice, will lose its moral weight; her “gesture” will expire with her. Yet Kim Dan may not yet realize that this very ending could one day free him. The book-keeping dies with the bookkeeper.
(chapter 31) When Heesung offers flowers “to get closer,” Kim Dan’s face mirrors the same unease: affection presented as transaction, intimacy disguised as generosity. What the actor calls closeness, the doctor feels as imbalance — the same emotional distance that Shin Okja’s presents once produced. Her gifts, meant to bind, isolated him instead; they built a hierarchy where gratitude replaced equality. Each present widened the gap between giver and receiver. To be cared for was to be indebted.
(chapter 31) and tries to refuse it. 
(chapter 31) 
(chapter 67), loses sleep, or pays a price. He interprets Joo Jaekyung’s concern as “trouble,” Heesung’s gifts as “too much.” In his mind, affection is inseparable from cost:
(chapter 80) “I’ll stay in the background.” His self-worth depends on not burdening others. His words let transpire that he has never been Shin Okja’s first priority in the end. The hoodie reinforces that psychology—it is not a professional outfit like a suit or briefcase would have been, but a teenager’s garment, meant for the domestic space rather than the adult world. It literally arrests his growth, keeping him in the house and under her logic. Thus it is not surprising that after receiving his diploma, he still took part-time jobs. 
(chapter 80) is the site of its quiet destruction. His act of giving reverses every law the grandmother ever taught. First, he does not “go out of his way.” The clothes are delivered effortlessly, without fanfare or moral accounting. 
(chapter 80) There is no speech about sacrifice, no self-congratulation. 
(chapter 80) By erasing the gesture of “effort,” he removes the emotional price tag that once accompanied every gift.
(chapter 80) If the grandmother’s motto was “I went through so much for you,” the champion’s is “It’s no big deal.” Generosity becomes invisible, unburdened, and therefore trustworthy.
(chapter 80) The row of garments invites choice — a concept absent from Shin Okja’s universe, where love came in single doses and with strings attached. Here, the doctor is asked to select what he likes, to exercise taste, to inhabit preference. The abundance of options grants him agency, dignity, and the right to refuse.
(chapter 22) 
(chapter 30) becomes unexpectedly true here. The wardrobe bridges the distance that the grandmother’s gifts had always created.
(chapter 80) This is why his hesitant and embarrassed gratitude, framed against a background of dissolving gray waves, feels so transformative. The air behind him ripples as if washing away the residue of his old faith.
(chapter 80); they mark the passing of days, the return of seasons, the rediscovery that not every morning has to look the same. Variety itself becomes a form of freedom. When the wolf once complained that all his shirts looked identical, he was unknowingly naming what both of them lacked: differentiation, spontaneity, change. Through this act, he restores color not only to the doctor’s wardrobe but to his emotional world — a quiet resurrection through fabric.
(chapter 80) The “hamster” had instinctively turned to the only person who had ever offered him help without cost.
— the luminous, wish-granting jewel said to contain both wisdom and life energy. The dragon’s power is not innate; it is completed and elevated by the jewel. Without the yeouiju, it cannot ascend to the heavens — strength without meaning, force without direction.
(chapter 80), the myth reverses. The dragon—once feared, untouchable, wrapped in rage and solitude—is suddenly embraced by the very being he once believed too fragile for his world. The power dynamic inverts: the human shelters the beast.
(chapter 75) —this embrace is nothing short of salvation. The man who once fought to wash off shame through endless training now finds himself accepted in his unguarded state. He doesn’t need to mask his trauma with perfume 
(chapter 75), the imagined smell, or cleanse his skin of battle; he is held and, therefore, purified. Through Dan’s arms, he rediscovers his value and humanity—the dragon touched and not destroyed. He is worth of being embraced, even if he is already so old! 
(chapter 79) This is one part of the new circle. Jealousy is the residue of imbalance — the echo of the 7 within the 8. In the numerology of Jinx, the 7-chapters, like for example episode 7 
(chapter 7), episode 18, where the champion had sex because of this statement 
(chapter 18),episode 34 with Choi Heesung 
(chapter 34) or episode 52, where the former members of Team Black and expressed their disdain and jealousy toward the main lead 
(chapter 52)
(chapter 79), the final test before the circle closes for good.
(chapter 47) and 8 lies that invisible hinge: the death of the old economy of love and the birth of a new one.
(chapter 61) and Heesung’s residual rivalry and resent. Each acts as a different face of control: the woman binds through guilt, the manager through hierarchy acting as the owner of the athlete’s time, the actor through charm and deceptions. Together they form the triad that tries to reopen the circle closed in the pool. Let’s not forget that the athlete chose to take a day off on his own accord 
(chapter 80), but he had just returned to the gym. It is no longer the same training and routine.
I established that Kim Dan’s number is 8. It is therefore no coincidence that the arc from chapter 80 to 89 should revolve around him—his body, his suffering, and ultimately his recovery. The number 8, often associated with balance, renewal, and continuity, here signals not only the doctor’s rebirth but also the gradual thawing of his frozen world. It marks the moment when the past can no longer remain buried, when the last remnants of family and unspoken pain begin to surface. The mystery behind this phone call will be soon revealed. 
(chapter 19) 
(chapter 26) the sparring between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan unfolds under the sign of fun and apparent joy, yet its origin lies in jealousy. The champion, unconsciously triggered by the doctor’s closeness with Potato 
(chapter 25), turns play into a contest—a way to reclaim attention. 
(chapter 25) The gym, usually a place of hierarchy, momentarily becomes a stage where both can laugh, but beneath that laughter runs an undercurrent of rivalry (with Potato). On the other hand, for the first time, the Manhwa allows both protagonists to exist outside the economy of debt and hierarchy. The gym, normally a place of discipline and work, transforms into a playground of laughter. The champion teases the doctor 
(chapter 26), and the latter, clumsy but determined, strikes back with surprising boldness. The crowd cheers, not for the fighter but for the therapist—the underdog, the one who usually stands in the shadow. The entire scene feels like a short-lived holiday, a suspension of order and pain. When Kim Dan smiles at the end of the match, the gesture radiates genuine lightness: he has momentarily escaped the burden of fear and experienced himself as a free, living body. 
(chapter 26) He believes he has accomplished something meaningful and feels, perhaps for the first time, proud of himself. He was taught that he could fight back and overcome his fear. 
(chapter 26) He realizes that the hamster can beam at others, that such light has never been directed at him. In that instant, he no longer sees an employee but a companion whose gaze and embrace he covets, whose approval he unconsciously seeks.
(chapter 62) The atmosphere is brighter in color but colder in tone. There, Joo Jaekyung got to experience how Kim Dan has lived all this time, helping others, making them happy with his assistance. 
(chapter 62) Here, the protagonist was thinking all the time of his loved one: 
(chapter 62) Indirectly, he hoped to get the doctor’s attention, but he failed. In fact, none of the wolf’s good actions got noticed by his fated partner. Interesting is that though the characters engage in acts of performance and service—helping others, pleasing strangers— their smiles have turned into masks. 
(chapter 62) 
(chapter 62) Where chapter 26 radiated spontaneity, this one reveals calculation and fatigue. 
(chapter 62), where exposure to others leaves both men strangely isolated. The happiness of the crowd no longer unites; it separates. The champion’s outfit, ridiculous and domestic 
(chapter 62) which is actually his true nature. I will elaborate more further below. For the first time, the wolf looks at his companion and senses distance instead of warmth, as though the man he once touched so easily has withdrawn behind glass. His thought—“Has he always been this cold?”—marks the beginning of introspection, the moment when perception replaces instinct.
(chapter 80) To “walk on thin ice” is to approach him gently, without force—a lesson the champion must learn if he wishes to thaw what has been frozen by years of duty and self-denial.
(chapter 80) 
(chapter 80), not red. The atmosphere is fluid, reflective, submerged. Water—not flame—governs this new stage. What we witness is not combustion but fusion—ice meeting water, solid meeting liquid, two states of the same element touching at last. Ice does not just melt under fire; but also in the presence of water. It softens when it recognizes itself in another form. In that sense, Joo Jaekyung’s tenderness doesn’t heat Kim Dan—it mirrors him. The thaw begins not through passion, but through likeness, through quiet recognition. This signifies that Joo Jaekyung is on his way to discover their similarities: they both suffered from bullying and abandonment issues and they love each other.
(chapter 27) Thus I came to the following deduction. This is the emotional geometry of the arc 80–89: two smiles moving toward synchrony, two currents approaching convergence. Both need to experience that they make each other happy. Kim Dan on Thin Ice thus begins where the infinite loop of 8 converges—between warmth and coldness, joy and fatigue, play and labor. It is here, in this fragile equilibrium—where ice and water finally coexist—that both men begin, at last, to thaw. And the latter implies emancipation
(chapter 80), as it exposes the real metamorphosis from the “wolf”. The night Joo Jaekyung watches Kim Dan sleep is not erotic; it is revolutionary. For once, his desire gives way to perception and attentiveness. The fighter who has conquered bodies now studies one that is quietly losing its battle. The body before him is not the sculpted strength he knows, but a map of deprivation: protruding collarbones 
(chapter 80), visible neck tendons, the knobby finger joints and his stiff fingers resting on the blanket as if holding the body together. 
(chapter 80) The pale, bluish hue of the skin—half light, half illness—tells him what no words ever have.
(chapter 80), the faint opacity of the nails 
(chapter 80) In the faint parting of the mouth he sees not seduction, but exhaustion—a man so depleted that even rest demands effort. 
(chapter 80) he begins to treat rest not as weakness, but as reverence.
(chapter 13) The fighter who once mocked stillness as laziness now finds meaning in it.
(chapter 80), it signifies that he will have to dedicate his time to the physical therapist! Hence his routine and training could get affected, just like their weekends. 
(chapter 80) —the doctor 
(chapter 13), the family member 
(chapter 56), the one who stays close enough to touch if needed. 
(chapter 80) Without realizing it,the athlete has inherited that role. His nearness is no longer intrusive but protective. He has crossed the invisible threshold that separates obligation from affection. The fighter who once stood as an outsider in the doctor’s life now finds himself within its most intimate circle.
(chapter 80) Compare his facial expression to the hamster’s before their first day off together. 
(chapter 27) That way, Mingwa can outline the champion’s confidence and that the one who needed the rest is the physical therapist and not the champion.
(chapter 69) Every flicker of light falls through The Emperor’s gaze and lands on Kim Dan’s form, transforming weariness into something sacred. 
(chapter 68) in the bathtub 
(chapter 68) —“I’ll keep him right here in the palm of my hand”—echo now with quiet irony. To hold someone in one’s hand is, paradoxically, to immobilize them; it grants possession but denies agency. The same gesture that promises safety also enacts paralysis. His possessiveness, once mistaken for protection, now appears as helplessness.
(chapter 79), 
(chapter 80) shrinking back when confronted. The body remembers the threat long after the mind tries to forget. 
(chapter 79) He lives suspended between two survival reflexes: freezing or fleeing. Since the contract binds him to stay, he cannot physically run away; therefore, his body freezes instead. It is his way of obeying while still protecting himself. Exhaustion becomes his armor. And now, you comprehend why the celebrity could detect the coldness in the “hamster” in front of the hospice. 
(chapter 79) — now turned outward and wounded the one he wished to protect. 
(chapter 79) That icy look became a mirror: it froze Kim Dan’s small confidence, reinforcing his belief that he would always displease or fail others. Since his return to the gym, the doctor feared the emperor’s next outburst, walking on eggshells and suppressing every impulse to speak or move freely. 
(chapter 79) Thus he clinched onto routine to maintain a normal relationship. But once the champion voiced his dissatisfaction (masking his jealousy), the light in the doctor’s gaze vanished. 
(chapter 79)
(chapter 79) His unconscious was telling him to flee, as he feared the athlete. To conclude, he was always one step away from collapse. In symbolic terms, he had become ice itself — air and water solidified, transparent yet untouchable. Keep in mind that according to me, the clouds embody the physical therapist. 
(chapter 38) Born on December 26th, his very birthday ties him to winter, to the paradox of beauty that burns when touched. 
That’s why I can’t help myself thinking that the physical therapist is actually embodied by the snow. Ice and snow preserve, but they also isolate.
(chapter 63), desperate to restore closeness, mistook passion and pleasure 
(chapter 63) for repair. Believing that physical heat could melt emotional frost 
(chapter 64), he tried to burn away the distance through souvenirs (evoking the night in the States) and desire. Yet the more he tried to ignite fire, the more he fed the cold. 
(chapter 64) The physical act, rather than fusing them, exposed the truth he had refused to see — that his partner was already freezing from within. On the other hand, during this night, the athlete used “self-control” for the first time, his roughness in bed started vanishing. 
(chapter 64) The wolf’s attempt to “burn the bridge” between them became the very thing that broke it. His flame met ice 
(chapter 64), and the result was not warmth but steam — a brief illusion of intimacy that vanished as soon as Kim Dan pulled away. His rejection wasn’t cruelty but a cry of despair, disillusion and exhaustion
(chapter 64): a body too cold to burn, a heart too tired to love and fight.
(chapter 80), but about melting together, letting warmth and cold coexist without annihilating each other. To melt together does not mean to dissolve into sameness, but to trust that proximity will not destroy one’s shape. True intimacy begins when both accept that they can share warmth without losing form — when fire believes it can touch ice without turning it to steam, and ice trusts it can meet fire without vanishing. 
(chapter 61) Touch it bare-handed, and you feel both heat and pain. The same holds true for Kim Dan’s presence: those who reach for him too quickly end up wounding both him and themselves. The sportsman’s early attempts at care followed that pattern — too forceful, too immediate, leaving frostbite where he intended warmth. 
(chapter 64) 
(chapter 79), of not getting the doctor’s affection. Kim Dan’s coldness was not real rejection 
(chapter 80) They never played it — and that is no accident. The title encapsulates the temptation Jaekyung must resist: to treat intimacy as a contest, to imagine that trust can be won through tactics or timing. But hearts do not yield to strategies. The only way to melt the ice is not by “breaking” it, but by warming it, patiently, sincerely.
(chapter 66) And this is something the physical therapist could notice, if he enters the room again and pays more attention to his surroundings. This is not about ownership but about inclusion: an unspoken invitation to share a part of himself. 
(chapter 30). Even in that comic panel, the imbalance between physical familiarity and emotional distance was evident. Kim Dan’s embarrassment stood for boundaries not yet earned, and Jaekyung’s casual tone for a love not yet understood.
(chapter 80) The scene is small but seismic. The camera places Jaekyung slightly behind, his fists curled and his shoulders tense — an instinctive gesture of self-restraint rather than dominance. He is no longer the one towering above, demanding or explaining; he is waiting, watching, enduring the discomfort of having gone too far. His silence here is not indifference but humility — the silence of someone learning, painfully, what boundaries mean.
(chapter 70) The athlete’s posture 
(chapter 21) Behind the warmth of her words lies a quiet wound: she loves her grandson, but she wishes him to be different — stronger, healthier, easier to care for. In his eyes, it’s an unreliable, burdensome shell — a vessel of weakness and sickness. Every protruding collarbone, every cracked lip or dark circle testifies to a deeper wound: the conviction that he is unworthy of care.
(chapter 62) the weight of that sentence stretches far beyond the bedroom. It carries the residue of every moral, familial, and physical contract that has reduced him to flesh. What the champion hears as accusation is, at its core, a confession of alienation — the echo of a man who has never learned to live inside himself. It’s not only a reproach but a confession. He hates his body because it has become the medium through which he is used, never loved.
(chapter 27)
(chapter 61), the other where no one looks. Yet, the attitude of people is the same: no one pays attention to them. Both inhabit bodies that have forgotten the difference between endurance and pain. Both mistake self-destruction for strength. 
(chapter 18) when Kim Dan, bruised, had seized his hand and expressed his concerns. Back then, the gesture had confused the wolf. His hands were made to strike, to defend, to dominate — not to be pitied or protected. He had pulled away instinctively, unsettled by the tenderness and the huge sense of responsibility behind the question. He felt criticized, as if his power was questioned. 
(chapter 80) What began as misunderstanding in episode 1, 
(chapter 1) and was maintained through the awkward hospital encounter in episode 18, now evolves into dialogue and genuine comprehension. In the beginning, Kim Dan’s touch had been accidental and defensive—a misreading of bodily proximity. When he grabbed the fighter in episode 1, he believed he had crossed a forbidden line, that his action would be seen as insolence or violation. The fear and shame that followed transformed touch into a territory of silence and self-censorship.
(chapter 56), he had interpreted that touch not as mistake or violation, but as a spark of invitation—proof that the “hamster” might want him after all. His own longing twisted the scene into a fantasy of desire, into a private “game” he wanted to continue in the bedroom. One misunderstanding gave birth to another. By episode 18, the same reflex persisted: he reached out again, asking if Jaekyung was hurt, his hand trembling with the same mixture of care and fear. Once more, touch was misread—offered as comfort, received as intrusion. Thus their relationship began under crossed signals: one moved out of survival, the other out of projection or the reverse. It is no coincidence that their relationship in season 1 was doomed to fail. They never communicated properly, as their perception was influenced by their past and surroundings. 
(chapter 80), Kim Dan panics, convinced that release equals abandonment. 
(chapter 80) He freezes once again. Yet the water holds him; he reaches onto the champion again — and this time, the embrace stays. What makes this moment remarkable is that the pool is shallow. 
(chapter 80) Kim Dan could easily stand on his own, but fear has eclipsed reason. His instinct is not to trust his feet, not to fight the water, but to cling to the man before him. 
(chapter 16) —that deceptively simple French word—finds its power. It means “ice,” but also “mirror” and “window.” When the champion looks through Kim Dan’s glace 
(chapter 77), unlike the touch of ice. It softens, sweetens, dissolves slowly on the tongue. Likewise, the heat between them no longer needs to scorch; it can melt. And yet, the kiss — once their most volatile exchange — has fallen silent. 
(chapter 64) Kim Dan had to bite his own lips to make Jaekyung stop, and neither has ever truly spoken of it. Yet, during the night, the athlete could see the remains of that cold war. 
(chapter 16), just as the champion has never confessed that it was his first kiss. Moreover, during their first day off together, Joo Jaekyung had also initiated a kiss and back then, the doctor never wondered why. 
(chapter 27) Both men have been staring into the same mirror without realizing that the reflection was shared. They love each other. Joo Jaekyung needs to ponder on the signification of a kiss 
(chapter 13) and why doc Dan made such a request. 
(chapter 15) The kiss is more than just fun and pleasure. It is the expression of “love”. And now, you comprehend why I am expecting a huge change in the next episode.
(chapter 28) and urge Kim Dan to ask, at last, the question that remained frozen between them. In doing so, he would not only reopen the conversation but also reclaim the meaning of touch itself: not as misunderstanding or survival, but as curiosity and love.
(chapter 80) And it comes with a small but crucial instruction. In that single phrase, the MMA fighter encourages Kim Dan to discover his own power and strength without overexercising. His feet, which were once symbolically trapped in the nightly ice, now press against the water with intent during the day. For the first time, his body obeys him, not fear. His movements are neither frantic nor helpless but self-regulated, gentle and alive. That’s why the main lead becomes happy for a moment. 
(chapter 21) comes from the early loss of his mother. 
(chapter 79), if he knew that the doctor has already loved him for a long time.
Kim Dan on Thin Ice was never just about danger or fragility — it was about transformation. The ice that once confined him to stillness has melted into water, and the fear that once froze his body has become motion. Where there was trembling, there is now flow; where there was isolation, there is connection. 
(chapter 75) – similar to doc Dan’s reaction in the States: 
(chapter 40) 
(chapter 53) 
(chapter 75) Where his father’s curses bound him to guilt and the past, Dan’s glow opens the possibility of release 
(chapter 75) His eyes open after the dream, and they open to the same light. It’s the opposite of every earlier awakening 
(chapter 54) —no gasp for air, no clutching his throat 
(chapter 75), no father’s voice strangling him. This sudden awakening embodies enlightenment. 
(chapter 75)
(chapter 75) On the surface, it sounds like a call for balance. In truth, it is a suggestion to find another meaning for his life. And look at the director’s facial expression, when he is talking to his former student: “
(chapter 75) He is smiling, a sign that the director is enjoying this moment with the “wolf”. He becomes the first person to speak to Jaekyung not about titles, not about survival, but about happiness.
(chapter 70) He knows the athlete from the past. The latter was attached to people and not to places. Why does he speak of “something” rather than “someone”, if he knows? The lesson is not about fixing a new goal or object to chase, but about discovering how to live differently — how to live happily. 
(chapter 65)
(chapter 75). Even before, he could only mutter to himself this: 
(chapter 70) The negation indicates denial, but observe that he couldn’t even use a noun. He cannot yet translate this vision into words, because he has never heard “I love you” himself 
(chapter 39). The only one he heard was diminished to a mistake
(chapter 41), and doc Dan claims to have no recollection of it. His father left him with mockery, his mother with resignation, his coach in the past with discipline, the grandmother-figures with burdens (honor, debt, favor). 
(chapter 74) No one ever taught him how to say I love you. And so, when Dan appears in his dream, it is not the words that free him but the gaze. 
(chapter 75) or the mother’s withdrawal. 
(chapter 73) It does not condemn, it does not demand; it simply waits. The gaze says this: I see you and accept you. 
(chapter 65) 
(chapter 65) Halmoni believed she already knew the solution to Dan’s suffering: sacrifice yourself, work hard, pay the debts or make money, endure. She closed off alternatives by imposing her narrative on him. Her love was distorted into certainty. The director, by contrast, recognizes the limit of his role. He has learned (belatedly) that he cannot dictate meaning for someone else. Instead, he tells Jaekyung: 
(chapter 75) His love is expressed through humility — through not knowing. At the same time, his words and facial expression ooze trust and confidence. 
(chapter 73) “You’re a loser”, You’re your mother’s son after all” — 
(chapter 75) Each title, each belt, each triumph was a rebuttal to his father’s words. He was not worthless, not doomed. Yet the irony is cruel: in fighting to silence those curses 
(chapter 75), he bound himself ever more tightly to them. Winning never brought peace; it only bought him momentary quiet from the voices in his head. This confession from the main lead confirmed my previous interpretations. First, the main lead had been constantly hearing voices in his head. Secondly, the hamster embodies “sound”, but a different kind: true communication linked to honesty and affection. This explicates why after the couch confession 
(chapter 29), Joo Jaekyung opened up a little to doc Dan! Thus the next morning, he visited the bathroom where doc Dan was! 
(chapter 30) It was just an excuse to spend more time with his fated partner. 
(chapter 74), no “dear,” no “I love you.” In the father’s memory, she used the child as an excuse to distance herself from her spouse. In that moment, Jaekyung is not a son to be cherished but a barrier in an adult quarrel.
(chapter 67) Not because he felt nothing, but because he lacked the language to connect worry with love. In his conscious mind, conception of care was still bound to usefulness — Dan mattered because he was needed for training, not because he was loved as himself, while deep down, he had already moved beyond this aspect. He was just in denial in this scene,
(chapter 74) On one level, she does not recognize his voice. But on a deeper level, her words ring as truth: she does not know her son. She has no idea who he has become, what defines him, what characterizes him beyond money and survival.
(chapter 74), promising to provide for her if she returns home. He unconsciously appeals to the only logic he has ever known: that love equals provision, that affection is secured by usefulness. 
(chapter 42) His father’s voice was violent and scornful, but its framework remained lodged in him.
(chapter 72) becomes the perfect metaphor for her treatment of him. Once she no longer needed him, he was discarded like refuse. Just as trash cannot be reclaimed by sentimental value, she will not be able to reclaim him later through appeals to blood ties or belated need. It is impossible because he has learned — painfully — that true love is not about what you have, but about who you are.
(chapter 74) He understood that the words he longed for as a child were never simply withheld — they never existed. Since we saw her back and heard her voice, I don’t think, she truly cut off ties with Joo Jaekyung. Why? It is because she had no intention to change her phone number again. 
(chapter 74) She expected him to follow her request. I can definitely imagine her trying to reconnect with Joo Jaekyung, the moment he became a celebrity. 
(chapter 75) Keep in mind that we have these mysterious phone calls: 
(chapter 37)
(chapter 43) 
(chapter 49)
(chapter 75) 
(chapter 75) On the surface, these sound like support. He smiles, his tone is warm, his words echo the vocabulary of friendship. Yet this false promise had lasting consequences: it reinforced a pattern already planted by the champion’s mother. Since childhood, Jaekyung had equated helping with caring 
(chapter 34), Jaekyung assumed later that the actor would have helped doc Dan to hide. 
(chapter 58) His violent intrusion into the actor’s home was the natural outgrowth of Namwook’s teaching: if love is real, it must show itself as service.
(chapter 45), Jaekyung struggled to even recognize it. Giving him a gift and expressing gratitude was not “helping the fighter”. 
“ (chapter 75) There’s a life outside the ring and the spotlight. 
(chapter 72) was quite futile, for at the end, he ended up alone and felt lonely.
(chapter 71) Yet, deep down, he was happy that Joo Jaekyung had visited him and even spent the whole day with him. Secondly, for him, too, love has always been expressed through responsibility, advice, and correction rather than direct declaration. When he tells Jaekyung to “look around” and “think hard,” or warns Dan to “
(chapter 70) “stay sharp,” he is not being cold — he is speaking from the only framework of love he knows: respect, knowledge, care, and responsibility, the very dimensions Erich Fromm outlines. He realized too late that he missed Joo Jaekyung very much. His love is embedded in actions and words of guidance, not in sentimental speech. To suddenly say “I love you” would, in his own register, feel shallow and false. He actually embodies the “real parent” IMO, because contrary to all the others adults, he learned from his mistakes. No parent is perfect, but they need to reflect on their words and actions. Learning through experiences is lifelong learning. It stops with death. The director did his best according to the circumstances and tried to correct his wrongdoings. And we can see his influence in the champion’s life. When it comes to doc Dan, he also makes mistakes: 
(chapter 68) 
(chapter 69) 
(chapter 69) And that’s what makes him so human. 
(chapter 71) Hence doc Dan didn’t resent the champion for his harsh treatment. But unlike the mother, who equated love with possession, Hwang Byungchul has begun to correct himself. He respects Jaekyung’s privacy, he encourages instead of dictating, he models a love that is belated but still real. This opens the possibility that Jaekyung, too, may learn to fill his silences differently — not with dominance or provision, but with genuine presence. He truly embodies the philosophy from Erich Fromm: it is never too late to become happy! Hence he smiled on the rooftop! 
(chapter 71) This means that he lives now in the present. It looks like the “old coot” has been tamed by the “gentle hamster or duck”. 
(chapter 41) He didn’t know how to judge such a confession. Hence these words were reduced to a mistake! 
(chapter 65) We know he once had toys (teddy bear,car)
(chapter 21) , little signs of comfort that suggest he grew up in relative security, even if his parents were often absent for work. For me, his childhood was not defined only by poverty but by rupture: love was present, then violently cut short. To a child, such a disappearance feels like betrayal, even if it was no one’s fault. Dan would have been left with a terrible contradiction — that “I love you” was true, and yet those who said it abandoned him forever.
(chapter 66), whispers through tears 
(chapter 66) and then breaks down with “
(chapter 66) These are not declarations of love, but desperate substitutes — fragments of the words he could never utter in childhood. They expose the precise gap: he never managed to say back what had once been said to him. He had lost his parents too soon. Instead of “I love you too,” what emerges is fear of abandonment. Instead of reciprocity, there is only pleading. His grip on Jaekyung’s shirt is the physical translation of what he could not verbalize: the child’s attempt to hold onto someone who is already vanishing. 
(chapter 65), the boy had not developed such a deep attachment to his parents. Thus she imagined, she could erase their absence. She conflated sacrifice with love, debt with affection. Yet what he received from her was not the warmth of a parent, but the burden of endurance. She patted 
(chapter 57) and caressed him with her hand, but the kiss in chapter 44 reveals something different: 
(chapter 44) Dan once received love of a different kind — playful and tender. A kiss cannot have come from the grandmother, who expressed affection only in gestures of care, never of intimacy. That kiss belongs to his mother.
(chapter 65) 
(chapter 31)— which he associates with unbearable debt. His mother’s final “gift” of love was one he could never repay. Any present risks reopening that wound: “What if I can’t repay this? What if I lose them too?”
(chapter 74) — the quiet sign that the sun is about to rise. Dawn is not just a natural detail in Jinx; it is a symbolic hinge. It is the moment when night meets day, when moon and sun overlap, when endings bleed into beginnings. In myth and fairy tale, dawn often marks metamorphosis: the Little Mermaid turns to foam, the enchanted sleepers awaken, the beast becomes a prince. For Jaekyung, too, dawn is the threshold. His father cursed him at dawn 
(chapter 73), stripping him of worth, tying the rising sun to shame. But in this new dawn, another voice will have to intervene. Only Dan can replace the curse with a blessing. Only “I love you” can undo “you are not special.” And if it is not “I love You”, then it could be a kiss, the symbol of “affection”. 
(chapter 75) He was always there — arranging his matches, covering his problems, whispering about his “future.” Yet the quality of his presence was hollow. He never once guided Jaekyung beyond his father’s curse, never helped him imagine a life beyond titles. Thus he never discovered that the “monster” was suffering from insomnia. 
(chapter 75) His companionship was measured in duration, not depth.
(chapter 41), an invitation to walk together. Namwook’s long presence embodies the trap of quantity without substance. Dan’s brief but luminous presence reveals the power of quality: the kind of attention that transforms.
(chapter 29) Under the curse, his whole life has been a frantic race: prove himself, fight again, silence the noise in his head. 
(chapter 75) Namwook’s whispers, too, keep him chained to that rhythm of urgency — rankings, titles, deadlines. But once Dan’s whisper replaces Namwook’s, time itself shifts. The future is no longer a debt to repay but a horizon to approach slowly, hand in hand.
(chapter 27), even rediscovered his love for swimming. Water, his true element, was reclaimed as play rather than punishment. 
(chapter 27) That single day was a seed — a foreshadowing of what life might look like once the curse is broken for good.
(chapter 72) — subtle symbols of education, possibility, and restraint, hinting at something more structured, perhaps even noble, behind his harsh upbringing. 
(chapter 27) Where and how did he learn swimming? Moreover, observe that he connected it to relaxation and fun. “This feels good”. This contrasts so much to the interaction between Hwang Byungchul and the little boy with the teddy bear. 
(Chapter 72) The man doesn’t know that the athlete can swim, he only knows the boxer, as he was only able to see him on TV. 
(chapter 71) Interesting is that Jinxphiles followed Kim Dan’s school career 
(chapter 47) 
(chapter 47), yet the latter can not swim! 
(Chapter 47) 
(Chapter 72) Nevertheless, with this panel, Mingwa indicates that the protagonist was visiting the Elementary school. The neighborhood he grew up in — as described by Hwang Byungchul — was “cutthroat.” 
(Chapter 60) He even knows how to give first aid too. 
(Chapter 60) These aren’t casual skills. They’re not the product of school curriculum or street wisdom, especially not in a neighborhood described as “cutthroat.” These are taught skills — and not by someone who saw Jaekyung merely as a fighter. Swimming and first aid reflect something else entirely: a commitment to preparedness, not just for survival, but for helping others.
(chapter 72) this unnamed figure offered a radically different message: you have value not just in your fists, but in your capacity to protect life. And contrary to Hwang Byungchul, this person stands for “shadow and humbleness” and not “spotlight or wealth”! 
(Chapter 13) His vocabulary revolves around water: “pond”, “fish”! Besides, I have already connected to him Poseidon, the god of the ocean. Moreover, this man is strongly intertwined with fun, a notion that doesn’t belong in Hwang Byungchul’s world! And now, you understand why this man could touch Joo Jaekyung’s shoulder 
(Chapter 13) He knew about the existence of the Teddy Bear inside the champion. And is it a coincidence that both men have the same name “Chul=Cheol”, though the order diverges: Cheolmin versus Byungchul? And both are connected to the color “green”. 
(chapter 72)
(chapter 60) There was no witness, no coast guard, no institutional figure involved in his rescue. He was alone, only saved by one person. His generation was expected to take responsibility — to succeed, to repay debts, to endure hardship — but they were given no tools to survive when crisis struck. They were neither protected nor prepared.
(chapter 14) This fight took place in April… the same month than the Sewol ferry tragedy. And the color of the poster is once again green. Is it a coincidence? I have my doubt here. And what did Randy Booker say to his opponent? He called him a baby 
(chapter 14) which led the protagonist to seek refuge in the bathroom, but here he couldn’t relax. 
(chapter 14) That’s how I realized that water is an element linked to childhood and as such motherhood! 
(chapter 45) And this brings me to my final thought: Kim Dan had to meet Hwang Byungchul for an important reason: to learn how to survive on his own, as he is still depressive. He is lectured how to become independent and how to find a real goal in his life. By confessing the terrible youth about the Emperor, the physical therapist gets to hear that he wasn’t the only one abandoned and in pain!! 
(chapter 72) 
(chapter 56) Moreover, he gets the opportunity to understand why “usefulness” became so important in the MMA fighter’s life. Through this confession, the other teddy bear gets to perceive that he has so many things in common with his fated partner. Both experienced abandonment, loss, poverty, bullying and only worked in their life too! They never got the opportunity to enjoy life to the fullest.
(chapter 72) —and not with fists, but with fabric. 
(chapter 11) Each boy is introduced wearing a shirt adorned with a teddy bear, a symbol that quietly carries the emotional weight of the entire narrative. 
(chapter 72) 
(chapter 68) In time, each man will become the other’s bear 
(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 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 72) 
(chapter 72) —it makes one thing heartbreakingly clear: he wasn’t raised by a pack of wolves; he raised himself. 
(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 72) 
(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 29) And so, like a child learning a new language, Jaekyung begins to mimic him too. 
(chapter 71) With Kim Dan, the fighter who once only mirrored power begins to echo tenderness.
(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) 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 26) This is how he enters adulthood, though he was still a child: not through love, but through function. The moment he steps into the ring, he’s no longer a child. He becomes, in the eyes of the adults around him, a product. 
(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 9) Instead of listening, we assume. We choose clear lines—strong or weak, good or bad, useful or useless—over the tangled, uncomfortable truth that everyone is both hurting and trying. This refusal to reflect doesn’t just distort reality—it perpetuates it. When we simplify, we don’t heal; we reenact.
(chapter 65) Then someone stronger should carry him. That “someone” becomes Jaekyung. The doctor should take pills and that’s it.
(chapter 72) is invisible to her. She sees a man who has succeeded—and assumes that means he is thriving.
(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 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 53) Thus Joo Jaekyung started drinking and recalling his repressed traumas. This explains why he didn’t look for doc Dan at first and why he hates his birthday and presents. 
(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 72) Remember how the champion reacted, when he tasted his cooking for the first time? 
(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 43) for the first time shortly after receiving a mysterious phone call. 
(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 72) The bear here is not a comforting toy but a dangerous beast. He loomed large over the child’s life not as a shield, but as a shadow. It is important because doc Dan is hearing for the second time that fighting has connections to the underworld. 
(chapter 47)
(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 22) 
(Chapter 69) from the physical therapist is more than a startled greeting — it marks a critical shift in the psychological and emotional trajectory of both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. Standing at the dock, doc Dan, still recovering from his depression and trauma of the switched spray incident, sees the champion not as an invincible athlete, but as someone equally unmoored. He is surprised and confused by such a behavior. Why would he act that way? Hence the author added right after this image: 
(chapter 69) Striking is that the champion has a similar reaction. He never expected that he had misjudged his fated partner. Both characters are forced to face their own prejudices and bias. 
(chapter 57) that go unnoticed to dealing with the emotional numbness of detachment, Kim Dan begins to resemble the article’s description of someone silently breaking down. 
(Chapter 59) Although he didn’t face difficult patients at the hospice
(chapter 57), he approaches his work like a robot, emotionally disconnected from those in his care. The burnout is not only shaped by the hospital environment — it’s also deeply tied to his role with Joo Jaekyung. The champion became, in many ways, his most demanding patient 
(Chapter 14), with unrealistic expectations 
– chapter 41 (such as pushing for a premature return to the ring), and an emotional climate of pressure and perfectionism 
f (chapter 45) rom superiors, he fits the article’s description of someone burdened by a toxic professional environment. More importantly, in episode 57, a nurse casually mentions that he might be suffering from burnout. 
(Chapter 57) This offhand remark reveals that within the medical setting, the symptoms are visible to trained observers. And yet, the insight never reached the “hamster” or the “wolf.” 
(chapter 56) and isolates himself emotionally. Therefore he doesn’t engage in a conversation with the nurses. 
(Chapter 56) No wonder why the readers still don’t know the names of the three “angels in blue”’. Their presence is functional, but remains impersonal. They remain silent observants. 
(Chapter 57) Likewise, Jaekyung — despite not being in healthcare — he fits the article’s description of someone burdened by a toxic professional environment. 
(chapter 49), or that in the aftermath of the suspicious match, he blames him 
(chapter 69) and avoids speaking with Shotgun altogether. Instead of engaging in conversation, he contacts MFC — preferring institutional action over personal interaction.
(chapter 19) and relational isolation all echo the article’s diagnosis:
(chapter 59) — and any deviation from it is interpreted as personal failure. Here, it’s important that the hospice took advantage from the overworked protagonist. No one paid attention to the double shift. (Naturally, I am not saying that the main lead is blameless either). For Kim Dan, the patient’s fall in episode 59 
(chapter 59) and the sabotage incident destroyed his self-perception as “doctor” and “helper”. 
(Chapter 59) This is reflected in the image where the author zoomed on the “main lead’s” hands or when he is holding the dead puppy. 
(Chapter 59) The hands have become the symbol of his powerlessness. For the wolf, the tie in his last match is perceived not as resilience, but as loss. 
(Chapter 51) Neither of them has been taught to see difficulty as an invitation to adapt. They both cling to a fixed mindset — until crisis breaks the pattern.
(Chapter 60) Though Dan has long suffered from low self-esteem, he has never questioned his sacrificial identity. It is as if he were destined — or conditioned — to care for others without regard for himself. 
(Chapter 29) He sees selflessness not as a virtue but as a default mode of survival. This explicates why he blames himself for the puppy’s death. Observe how Mingwa implied the relevance of the doctor’s hands while he was holding the poor puppy. 
(Chapter 1) — a way to repay debts. And it is the same, when he accepts his contract with the wolf. 
(Chapter 6) His grandmother reinforces this belief by reducing his worth to his earning capacity. This mindset is plainly illustrated in two key moments. In the first, she expresses her gratitude to the champion, because he gave him “a roof over his head and a salary.” 
(Chapter 65) These words reveal what truly matters to her: material provision and financial compensation. She does not seem to register the emotional toll the job may be taking on Dan, nor does she question the ethics of the contract or his living conditions. What she values is that her grandson is being paid and housed — signs of visible, quantifiable success.
(chapter 62) the athlete’s success gave him a sense of purpose. No wonder why he took everything so personally. 
(chapter 51), this fragile new identity got shattered. Dan loses not just a client or income source — he loses the first glimpse of professional dignity. 
(Chapter 51) The rejection didn’t just hurt emotionally; it disoriented him existentially. In that light, it is no coincidence that he ends up working at a hospice — a place symbolically linked to endings, quiet resignation, and the final stages of life. 
(Chapter 56) The hospice marks not just a physical retreat from his past, but a psychological one: a setting that echoes his emotional state. While his body continues to function, his inner life has entered a form of dormancy. His role in this environment reflects how deeply detached he has become — professionally, emotionally, and existentially. The job had become more than money, but now that it’s gone, he can no longer look forward. He feels lonely and rootless. 
(chapter 60), functions as a form of emotional absolution, though doc Dan is not aware of it. This job offer is an indirect proof that he is still seen as competent and trustworthy. 
(Chapter 62) If Jaekyung had not come himself, it would have confirmed Dan’s worst fears: that he was to blame, that he was discarded. The first crack in his fixed mindset comes from this gesture — an external acknowledgment that the so-called “sin” may not have been his at all. This explicates why Kim Dan can give him the cold shoulder and even ignore him. 
(Chapter 61) It helps him to boost his strength and confidence. From that moment on, he is capable to express his own thoughts and as such criticize the star. 
(Chapter 69) His stunned reaction — “
(Chapter 69) The hug becomes a form of speech — an action that acknowledges fear, relief and desire for connection.
(Chapter 65) — yet she changes nothing. How so? She could have talked to the nurse, and the latter would have brought up the possibility of “burnout”. She frames her grandson as a victim 
(chapter 61) , and approaches Dan not as a star reclaiming property, but as a person reaching out.
(Chapter 69) He no longer focuses only on the next fight or media appearance — instead, he chooses emotional repair. Dan also learns to value life over denial. Hence we see him holding bags, certainly containing food. During the episode 69, the incident in the courtyard served as a wake-up call that he could no longer deny his mental illness. After his collapse, he gets back up, and is seen wearing his sports shoes. 
(Chapter 69) These items indicate the transformation in the doctor’s life. From my point of view, it announces the arrival of sports in his life. 
(Chapter 67) Meanwhile, Jaekyung drops his script of invincibility and openly acknowledges his need for Dan. Neither of them says the perfect thing — but they are no longer using self-talk to punish themselves.
(Chapter 69) begins to receive it. It is not a grand declaration, but a quiet shift: you can fail or cause a ruckus, and still be loved. Hence he doesn’t push away the wolf on the dock. 
(chapter 69), the star begins to extend that care inward. Each gesture of empathy toward Dan becomes a step closer to self-compassion. In learning to protect someone else without demanding perfection, the wolf is learning, perhaps for the first time, that he too deserves kindness — not just from others, but from himself. He models what the article calls a true “growth mindset” — one that sees failure not as final, but as a catalyst for relational and emotional evolution.
(chapter 14) For the physical therapist, this moment would later be confirmed. 
(chapter 55) Still, some readers have theorized the existence of a “special lover” in his past 
(chapter 2), someone who might have earned a different kind of intimacy. One cause for this hypothesis is that in the champion’s first memory, he was facing his partner, which contrasts so much to the way he had sex with his partners (from behind). This possibility casts the locker room kiss in a new light. 
(chapter 14) If it was his first, the gesture carries a far deeper meaning than either man realizes in the moment. And if it wasn’t, then why does this kiss—with Kim Dan—resonate so differently?
(chapter 15) she showed more than the physical therapist’s confusion with the interrogation marks, she added his inner thoughts. This question (“What’s this?”) already hinted that he had never experienced a kiss before. The ambiguity of his reaction suggested that the moment was unfamiliar, and not immediately recognizable as a kiss at all. 
(chapter 16) it frightened him. The kiss broke an invisible boundary—one his upbringing had silently enforced. That’s the reason why he wasn’t sure if he could do it again.
(chapter 30) He blushes and wonders why. 
(chapter 30) It’s a telling moment: Dan isn’t used to feeling attraction and desire, let alone recognizing it. He never bought posters of celebrities, never fantasized. That world—the glamorous world of affection, attention, and beauty—was never his. 
(chapter 30) —despite already having been seen naked by Jaekyung 
(chapter 30), it becomes evident: Dan is not accustomed to physical closeness or shared domestic spaces. These are not reactions of a man with just sexual trauma—they point to someone raised without the warmth of daily intimacy.
(chapter 5) He had to take care of himself, dressed on his own. He had to act like an adult, as his role was to assist his grandmother: 
(chapter 65) This raises the possibility that someone else—most likely his mother—was his primary caregiver in early childhood. She would have changed his diapers, held him close, and kissed him gently. 
(chapter 44) For me, without realizing it, Dan reproduced those gestures. These actions can not come from Shin Okja, as we only see her caressing or patting her grandson. The progression is striking. It moves away from eroticism (kiss from the lips) 
(chapter 44) and toward something far more intimate and protective. These are not the kisses of seduction, but of affection—almost maternal in their tone. Hence the MMA fighter got patted later: 
(chapter 44) They suggest care, comfort, and emotional presence. This is crucial, because it reveals that for Dan, a kiss is not about arousal or conquest. It is a language of love. They carry the flavor of instinct. These are the kinds of kisses a child might have once received, or given, in moments of safety and connection.
(chapter 44) is a behavior shared by felines and wolves alike: a subtle act of comfort, trust, and bonding. Wolves nuzzle to soothe and reassure. Leopards nudge to display affection without threatening dominance. Dan’s pecks 
(chapter 57) (chapter 57)—licking them not out of instinct alone, but to reassure and bond. 
(chapter 57) During that summer night’s dream, Dan’s body mirrored this wordless care. That’s why he could laugh so genuinely like a child after witnessing his “pet’s reaction”. 
(chapter 14) Therefore the physical therapist astonishment, “What’s this?” was not naïve; it was disoriented. Somewhere deep within, Dan had internalized a different model of kissing: one that reflected comfort, not conquest; affection, not arousal. The kiss he received was too strange, too fierce—it violated a definition he didn’t even know he had. His body knew how to kiss, but it remembered a different type of kiss altogether. The latter stands for love and as such emotions. Under this new light, my avid readers can comprehend why the physical therapist made the following request from his fated partner: 
(chapter 14) Jaekyung repeated such a gesture, as seen in chapters 24
(chapter 24), and again in 64 
(chapter 64). These gestures were not expressions of tenderness, but acts of dominance, mirroring how the celebrity was taught to treat intimacy: not as an exchange, but as an imposition. His behavior echoes Cheolmin’s earlier suggestion 
(chapter 63) Fun is not the same as love, and this distinction matters deeply for someone like Kim Dan, who associates kissing with emotional safety and love, not performance or play. This explicates why he refused to be kissed in episode 63: 
(chapter 63) 
(chapter 44), Dan’s were soft, exploratory, almost reverent. His lips touched not just his lover’s mouth, but his cheek and ear—tender sites that bypass eroticism in favor of emotional intimacy. These weren’t prolonged, devouring kisses. They were pecks, small and deliberate. They mirrored affection, not possession. 
(chapter 3) —it forces the wolf to ponder on the meaning of a kiss and his relationship with the physical therapist.
In that iconic artwork, the man does not kiss the woman on the mouth, the traditional locus of erotic desire. Instead, his lips are placed upon her cheek—a gesture that suggests reverence, not possession; vulnerability, not domination.
(chapter 44) 
(chapter 45)
(chapter 54) When he was young, he had to face an abuser. Notice that the man’s face was very close to the champion’s 
(chapter 54). Thus I interpret that for the champion, the face represents not only his vulnerability, but also a source of danger. That’s the reason why he couldn’t hide his displeasure and frustration, when he faced this “lover”. 
(chapter 44) He couldn’t hide his joy by the champion’s funny reaction and laughed. And how did the protagonist react to this? Not only his face expressed his dissatisfaction, but also he silenced his partner with a kiss right away: 
(chapter 44) Joo Jaekyung is leading the kiss, he is regaining control over their relationship. It reinforces the idea that the wolf’s kiss was not merely about passion, but about reclaiming dominance and halting a shift in power. Just moments earlier, Kim Dan’s laughter had opened a space of emotional intimacy and lightness, which the champion was not prepared to face. The kiss, now prolonged and intensified, becomes the sportsman’s way of reasserting control over a situation that was slipping into unfamiliar emotional territory.
(chapter 45) The marks on the doctor’s body were evidence that he was no longer in control. They weren’t just signs of a physical encounter—they were witnesses to something far more threatening: vulnerability, softness, and reciprocity. In the night, swept up by instinct and unspoken longing, the wolf had allowed himself to be touched—not just physically, but emotionally. But by morning, the spell was broken. His gaze didn’t linger on Kim Dan with affection—it darted instead to the bruises and scratches as though they were accusations.
(chapter 45) wasn’t just the pain he might have inflicted—it was the realization that the balance of power had subtly shifted. The man who had always dictated the terms of their relationship had surrendered to something unfamiliar: tenderness, emotional closeness, and shared desire. The fact that Kim Dan initiated affection, even kissed him voluntarily, shattered Jaekyung’s script. For someone who conflated feelings with threat, and dominance with safety, this reversal was unbearable.
(chapter 45) —and that he, in turn, had wanted Dan back. This terrified him more than any bruise ever could.
(chapter 37), and kissing becomes his emotional brake pedal. It’s not simply an act of love, but a means to regulate, or even drown out, what he cannot yet name or accept: that he is being loved. It is not random that I included the scene from episode 37: he heard laughs from the other room. For him, such a noise must have sounded like a disrespect and mockery, triggering his past trauma. And he was not entirely wrong in the sense that they were eating behind his back 
(chapter 37) It was, as if they were mocking him because of his forced “diet”. No wonder why the champion is barely seen laughing and prefers seriousness. At the same time, I can grasp why the athlete feels close to Park Namwook, as the latter stands for these exact notions: work, money and seriousness. Fun is not part of his world and vocabulary, therefore he punished Joo Jaekyung for sparring with doc Dan.
(chapter 2) Though his face was close to the star’s, he didn’t attempt to kiss him. In fact, he proposed him a fellatio, a sign that the champion had never allowed anyone to get close to his “face”. Finally, observe how he reacted, when the uke in episode 55 attempted to kiss him: 
(chapter 55) Not only he rejected him, but also he pushed him violently so that the latter was on the floor. 
(chapter 55) The celebrity even ran away: a sign that the allowing someone approaching his face is perceived as something uncomfortable and threatening. At the same time, that moment exposes the kiss as something sacred—one that cannot be duplicated without emotional violation. This shows that for the champion, the meaning of a smooch has evolved. It is no longer perceived as a source of fun and a mean to gain something.
(chapter 55) He couldn’t forget doc Dan’s face, the latter excited him, a sign that for the champion, the face in general has been a source of pain, yet thanks to doc Dan, the latter has become a source of “comfort and joy”. 
(chapter 39) before requesting a fellatio: 
(chapter 39) The main lead’s head was very close to the champion’s face, thus he must have felt uncomfortable. Secondly by acting this way, the doctor was gradually gaining power over their relationship. For the wolf, dominance is everything, an indication that in his past he felt defenseless and weak. His “opponent”, the mysterious ghost, had the upper hand. Moreover, the fellatio created a distance between them, where the fighter could expose his superiority. And note how doc Dan behaved under the influence of the drug: 
(chapter 39) He caught his fated partner by surprise, when he suddenly kissed him, mirroring the champion’s past behavior. This panel corroborates that for the doctor, a kiss is the symbol of love. The champion was not happy with this kiss too, for the latter meant that he was no longer controlling their relationship. Yet, after hearing the doctor’s confession during that night, the athlete no longer resisted his partner’s kisses. 
(chapter 39) For the first time, he accepted Dan’s initiative—both physically and emotionally. Compare it to his attitude before: 
(chapter 39) here, he still has his eyes wide open, a sign of vigilance. These kisses from doc Dan 
(chapter 39) mark a turning point in Jaekyung’s arc: he begins to lower his defenses, allowing Dan not only into his personal space but also into a position of gentle agency within their relationship. The kiss no longer represents a threat; it becomes an opening and a sign of trust. 
(chapter 55) These memories represent the moment where the athlete felt strong and had the upper hand in their relationship. These images reveal that Joo Jaekyung hasn’t realized the signification of the kiss yet. For him, they don’t seem important. This exposes that the athlete has not associated kiss with love and affection yet. At the same time, we have to envision that a smooch is strongly intertwined with equity and trust. 
(chapter 28) And in episode 14, it was clear that the star still felt superior to his companion, therefore the kiss had no special meaning. As you can see, everything is pointing out that Joo Jaekyung had never been kissed before. And what does a kiss symbolize? Not only attachment, but also purity and innocence. 
(chapter 42) According to him, doc Dan was not different from him. However, he was wrong. It is because the champion had kissed him!! Moreover, the celebrity had allowed doc Dan to kiss him as well. Besides, how did the champion name his past lovers? They were toys… normally people don’t kiss playthings. And now, imagine that doc Dan were to discover that Joo Jaekyung had his first kiss with him. This revelation would not only make him realize that Joo Jaekyung loves him, but also he could be wondering why the athlete had never done such a thing before, though he had past lovers. YES, the “first kiss” could be the trigger for both characters to question their respective past and perceive their fated partner correctly. 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 52) In that context, a kiss could never be affection, but vulnerability. A risk.
(chapter 3), based on Dan’s vague claim of prior partners. Yet Dan has never kissed anyone before. The kiss becomes his true moment of loss, a quiet confession through action. Conversely, Jaekyung’s own discomfort shows that he, too, is untouched in this particular way. When Dan tries to kiss Jaekyung again, and he instinctively rejects it, it reveals just how unprepared he is for affection. They are both unaware that the other is emotionally “pure” in this regard, and that makes the kiss a shared revelation.
(chapter 67), Jaekyung must reinvent his approach. He cannot rely on dominance, strength, or sexual performance to win Dan’s heart. If he wants true connection, he must learn a new language—one built on gestures of affection, softness, and presence. This process also involves separating his public persona from his private longing. Joo Jaekyung, the champion, cannot seduce with spectacle. But Jaegeng, the man, might learn to express love through a simple touch, or a well-timed kiss. The redefinition of seduction is not just about Dan’s healing; it is about the wolf’s reclaiming his own right to feel and give love. And in my opinion, that process has already started: 
(chapter 29: note that he did not select this scene to rekindle with the doctor, but the other scene) He will learn it from life, from watching how the innocent express care without shame or purpose.
(chapter 66) quietly shapes the emotional core of the episode. At first, this detail may appear insignificant, but its narrative timing and visual prominence suggest a deeper meaning. The sudden flight of the sparrows 
(chapter 66) mirrors the situation of the main characters, as the latter are about to depart for Seoul. Striking is that Mingwa draws our attention away from the champion grabbing doc Dan, but focused on the birds. Why? It is because the author desires her readers to notice the world of subtle symbolism. Far from being a random detail, the presence—and sudden flight—of the sparrows echoes the characters’ inner transitions, raising questions about home, communication, critique, and the complicated process of change. To understand the richness of this scene, it’s crucial to consider not only the sparrow’s traditional meanings but also the narrative choices the Webtoonist makes in what is shown and what is left unseen, especially regarding the role of witnesses and the power of perception. To fully appreciate the layers of meaning in this moment, it is essential to consider not only the universal symbolism of sparrows but also their role in classic fables, Korean culture, and even modern pop culture—where the sparrow’s voice becomes a catalyst for both belonging and change.
(chapter 69) —who serve as stand-ins for the broader community. In this way, their union is not just a private matter but becomes public and recognized, affirming their bond within the social fabric of the town.
(chapter 69) fight again in the fall which leads him later to admit his own vulnerability 
(chapter 62). It took place in the morning. The harmony doc Dan hoped to find is momentarily lost, replaced by anxiety and a sense of being unmoored. 
(chapter 62), therefore the young man didn’t pay attention to his arrival contrary to the quoted panel above. Moreover, it is clear that the “hamster” felt safe in the presence of the landlord. Back then, he had only accepted the champion’s request after hearing the landlord’s remark: 
(chapter 62) The champion’s abruptness is the result of Kim Dan’s past rejection and stubbornness, the athlete is expecting resistance. However, he can not ignore doc Dan’s exhaustion and fragility. Besides, he feels motivated and justified, as he is following Shin Okja’s request.
(chapter 69), while Joo Jaekyung must confront the impact of his actions and learn new ways to show support. The challenges that follow—the physical setback for Kim Dan and the champion’s new professional demands—reinforce that their journey is full of hurdles. Still, these hindrances serve a higher purpose: to remind them that they are not alone, that they need each other’s protection and backing, and that the bonds forming in this little town can become sources of true resilience.
(chapter 66) The landlord’s proximity and his bemused, neutral questioning guides the reader’s interpretation, framing the scene as ordinary and non-threatening rather than alarming or inappropriate. He is able to grasp the existence of Joo Jaekyung’s motivations behind his behavior. He doesn’t judge the protagonist as face-value, he desires to know why he is acting this way.
(chapter 69) and throws him outside 
(chapter 69), the action punctuated by dramatic motion lines and the sounds of impact. Yet, despite the force of the act, the landlord—who witnesses the scene in real time—remains silent, choosing not to intervene, criticize, or even question Jaekyung’s motives. 
(chapter 69) His composed presence in the background 
(chapter 69) 
(chapter 69) Moreover, I am sensing that the elderly man might feel terrible, for he asked for the athlete’s assistance in the middle of the night. But let’s not forget that the main lead had driven 4 times within 2 days the distance from the little town to Seoul.
(chapter 62) he brings his belongings 
(chapter 66) gradually into his new environment, creating a personal nest. 
(chapter 69) This process is not merely about physical comfort, but about constructing a sense of safety, identity, and belonging. One of these items could be the doctor’s present. Notice that before he left his penthouse with the gray car, he was holding the “golden key chain”, 
(chapter 19) To conclude, we should see the chapters from 62 to 69 as the creation of the couple’s nest and as such “home”. 
(chapter 67): the brief diagnosis, the recommendation for weekly visits, the specialist’s tentative attribution of Kim Dan’s condition to either alcohol or a possible psychological cause, emphasizing the need for continued observation and weekly visits before offering a definitive diagnosis —all standard responses. For her, this was a doctor following routine procedure without overstepping professional boundaries. However, I perceived her behavior very differently. I saw someone who remained emotionally detached and almost absent, reducing the complexity of Kim Dan’s condition to simplistic surface-level causes without genuine inquiry.
(chapter 67) Rather than forming an independent assessment, she accepts the narrative of a third party, which introduces bias and limits her understanding. One might argue about that, because she is looking at a paper, probably result of a blood test which seems to corroborate the guardian’s statement. Hence the sleep specialist concludes that Kim Dan is suffering from insomnia, alcohol addiction and sleepwalking. The problem is that his statement is based on external observations (halmoni and the landlord) and their limited knowledge. Moreover, Jinx-philes should keep in mind two important aspects: 
(chapter 61) The champion had been himself suffering from similar symptoms which could be seen as a projection on his loved one. Additionally, based on previous observations, I have interpreted Kim Dan’s nightly walks not merely as sleepwalking, but as dissociative episodes—likely triggered by overwhelming guilt, unresolved trauma, and a chronic sense of disconnection from his body and surroundings. But how could the champion know about this? He’s not a doctor himself. In order to have a more accurate picture of the whole situation, she should have talked to the patient himself. But by relying on papers and the guardian’s testimony, she not only distances herself from the patient physically and emotionally, but also delegates the responsibility of interpretation. She is using the eyes of others.
(chapter 67) indicating that his alcohol addiction is not the real reason for his insomnia. Then she fails to examine Kim Dan physically, the desk is between them. Therefore she can not detect his visible malnourishment. 
(chapter 62) Moreover, both the landlord and the grandmother never brought up this aspect, though Shin Okja had observed this terrible transformation: 
(chapter 57)
(chapter 66) It is because the physical therapist is just a number (2) and as such a file. Therefore the doctor is not seeing the patient as a human. I can not blame the woman either, for she has so many patients to treat during the day. And now look at the building of the hospital: 
(chapter 66). It is huge reminding me of a factory. This “modern hospital” with its sleek architecture, expansive buildings, and impressive specialization exudes a sense of advancement and trustworthiness. Yet beneath this polished surface lies a business-oriented structure, one that prizes efficiency, reputation, and patient turnover over genuine patient connection. This “modern hospital” 
(chapter 67) She is doing exactly what Shin Okja wanted: 
(chapter 5) with the new medicine. On the other hand, it implies that the light-brown haired woman is doing her job for her paycheck which reminds me of Cheolmin’s statement: 
(chapter 27) 
(chapter 49) as mere service providers. Whether it was brushing off medical advice with “Don’t push it, I know my body better than anyone else” (chapter 27) or demanding instant pain relief to continue training (chapter 49), the champion positioned himself as the ultimate authority over his own treatment. Since his attitude echoed the confession of my osteopath, it is understandable why my osteopath-orthopedist began to select his patients carefully. This mirrors Kim Dan’s evolution, when the latter chose to reject the champion’s offer. Indirectly, he is “learning” to select his job and not take them by opportunism. He is also learning to select his “patients”. Striking is that Shin Okja has a similar attitude than the athlete. 
(chapter 7) She desired to have a treatment with less side effects and less painful. And the moment she was confronted with reality, this painful new treatment only brought pain and nothing more, she chose to leave this institution and move elsewhere. 
(chapter 57) She is treating him like a service-provider, she is now rejecting that he has lost his “usefulness”. His pay here is not high, … 
(chapter 67) and not even following her recommendation. 
(chapter 67) He felt misjudged and misunderstood; reduced to a file number, not seen as a complex human being.
(chapter 67) and second, what Kim Dan actually received as treatment: 
(chapter 13), in contrast, enters the story with no white coat at all. He carries only a doctor’s bag, dressed in a green pullover and a beige checkered shirt. 
(chapter 13) Despite this informal attire, he immediately recognizes Kim Dan’s symptoms and engages both the guardian and the patient. He doesn’t need institutional support to assert authority; his presence and diagnostic clarity define him. While his clothes might elsewhere be read as conservative or emotionally restrained, here they highlight that care can come outside rigid systems. 
(chapter 13) It bridges the gap between roles, making the patient feel seen rather than categorized. 
There’s no judgement in their relationship. The eyeless doctor may appear neutral, but in truth, she is hollow. Cheolmin appears reserved, yet his actions speak with empathy. Where she recites guidelines, he initiates dialogue. 
(chapter 13) Where she avoids involvement, he offers engagement. 
(chapter 61) 
(chapter 67), the Light of Hope hospice 
(chapter 61), the sleek University hospital dedicated to research 
(chapter 5), and more intimate yet modern facilities like this one.
(Chapter 27) Each medical setting not only has its own architecture but also its own moral blueprint. In the essay “
(chapter 21) Then the treatment’s failure is attributed either to the grandmother’s frailty or Kim Dan’s late arrival and absence, subtly shifting blame. 
(chapter 21) Like mentioned before, this treatment wasn’t even properly recorded in the patient file raising the suspicion of deliberate concealment. 
(chapter 56) It appears as “pain killers”. Her open white coat
(chapter 48) got aware of Shin Okja’s conditions, implying that patient confidentiality had been breached. 
(Chapter 61): In contrast, Park Junmin 
(chapter 61) represents the polished face of a business-oriented clinic. While his office projects sleekness and personalized care, his comments betray his priorities. He praises Joo Jaekyung’s fame and urges a return to the ring—not out of medical concern, but because it would guarantee the champion’s return as a paying patient. He wants to retain a high-profile client. His friendliness is strategic. 
(chapter 61), highlighting that the athlete has become aware of what genuine care should look like. When the champion calmly declares, “I’ll be receiving rehabilitation services in another hospital,” Junmin answers with a stunned “Sorry?”. But this is not confusion. It’s a reflexive mask for shock. He did not expect to lose control of the situation. Beneath that one-word response lies disbelief, disappointment, and veiled panic. He’s losing a lucrative patient—and more importantly, a public endorsement. The moment exposes how fragile his authority truly is when faced with a patient asserting autonomy. Let’s not forget that when the champion was facing a mental and emotional breakdown, the latter offered no other support than “rest”. He even avoided his gaze.
(chapter 54) The athlete was left on his own. 
(Chapter 59): At first glance, the hospice appears to be underfunded and outdated. 
(chapter 61) However, its director breaks expectations. Unlike the smooth-talking or indifferent doctors at larger institutions, he is directly involved in patient care. 
(chapter 60), criticizes people for their rude behavior 
(chapter 59) or actively disciplines staff 
(chapter 61) and sees promotional potential, he never exploits patients. 
(chapter 61) The juxtaposition of humility and responsibility in his demeanor, combined with his stunned reactions to sudden events, suggests an overworked and understaffed environment—but not one without moral grounding. His white coat and blue medical uniform echo the nurses’ attire, subtly promoting a sense of equity among staff. Despite being a director, he doesn’t separate himself from frontline caregivers. His uniform also contrasts with the green worn by Kim Miseon or Park Miseon, suggesting a focus on practical responsibility over prestige. By blending in with the team, he fosters a culture of shared accountability, not rigid hierarchy. Among all institutional figures, he comes closest to balancing authority with integrity. 
(Chapter 6): While this figure appears authoritative
(chapter 1) The white coat, in his case, is not a symbol of healing but a façade for exploitation. drives his authority. The coat becomes a literal cover for abuse—harassment disguised under professionalism. His entire persona is a façade: calculated, charming on the surface, but predatory and morally bankrupt beneath.
(chapter 27) His gray shirt signals a more relaxed approach, 
(chapter 27) and his facial expression conveys a certain empathy—though his words also betray resignation. He sits beside the patient, not opposite, visually erasing the typical hierarchical divide between doctor and athlete. His recommendation that Joo Jaekyung rest is gently delivered, but he knows it will likely be ignored. He represents the tension between medical idealism and the pressures of athletic performance. He is trying his best to protect Joo Jaekyung’s career. 
(chapter 13) Finally, Cheolmin exists outside the hospital system. He wears no white coat, but his behavior mirrors a true physician’s. He diagnoses accurately, gives immediate advice, and engages both patient and guardian. His attire—a shirt layered under another—might suggest emotional restraint, but it doesn’t interfere with his actions. He jokes and teases, breaking through tension and inviting trust. He acts not because protocol demands it, but because someone needs help. That’s enough.
(chapter 41) nature is neatly confined. Rooftop gardens and structured greenery exist, but more as visual accessories than lived environments. The hospital is a towering research center, representing scientific advancement—but also bureaucratic coldness. Here, nature exists to impress, not to comfort. This artificial balance between concrete and green reflects a clinical detachment: nature is curated, not embraced. It aligns perfectly with Kim Miseon’s demeanor—professional, pristine, but ultimately distant and ambition-driven.the environment feels controlled. 
(chapter 41) 
(chapter 54) where Joo Jaekyung receives treatment, the rooftop greenery appears remote and ornamental, disconnected from patient care. 
(chapter 18) modern, and set among scattered trees. 
(chapter 18) Large windows suggest openness and transparency—the very qualities Dr. Lee brings to his interaction. This is a space that, while modest, is genuinely attentive. Here, nature doesn’t impress, it is integrated in the landscape. The park is not surrounded by huge buildings. 
(chapter 65) nestled in the countryside and far from institutional rigidity, emerges as a space of true potential. In returning there, Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan are not just escaping their past—they are moving toward a form of healing that modern hospitals imitate but rarely achieve. Closer to nature, they are closer to themselves. If hospitals imitate forests, the village becomes the forest. And in that simplicity, Jinx suggests, real happiness might grow.
(chapter 57) It lives where no one is watching and no one is billing. In Jinx, the real medicine lies outside the chart—in the dirt on borrowed floral pants, in sweat earned under open skies. Nature becomes the unspoken vow that systems forgot.
(chapter 66) they saw it as further confirmation of their perception—reinforcing the idea that he is terribly flawed. However, a deeper analysis suggests that this term reflects not just his character but also his evolving mindset and struggle with emotional vulnerability. This essay will explore the paradox at the heart of their dynamic—how both men refuse to acknowledge the emotional weight of their relationship, leading to a cycle of denial and misperception. It will examine how the concept of the jinx evolves, the continued influence of Park Namwook’s manipulations on Joo Jaekyung, and the role that mutual ingratitude plays in their emotional stagnation.
(chapter 65), the nature of his principle has changed: 
(chapter 65)The athlete is admitting his dependency on doc Dan. The jinx is now directly tied to Kim Dan, not just as a concept but as a tangible element of Joo Jaekyung’s career stability. The second switch is that sex is no longer a condition to ward off bad luck. In fact, the celebrity is recognizing the importance of his daily training and, as such, his hard work. 
(chapter 65) The inner thoughts of the sportsman reveal that the champion is feeling less powerless than before. His champion status is no longer reliant on superstition but on tangible efforts—his “old routine” and, crucially, Kim Dan’s expertise as a physical therapist. This marks a significant transformation in his perception of Kim Dan, whom he now values for his professional skills rather than as a mere tool for maintaining a ritual. Thus, Joo Jaekyung should be less inclined to request Doc Dan’s sexual services. Then, in episode 66, a new change became visible.
(chapter 11), a tool to generate money and maintain the gym’s reputation. Hence he blames him, when members leave the gym. 
(chapter 46) The manager used the incident with Seonho to justify the desertion of the other athletes. However, it is clear that some left the gym because they didn’t become successful like Joo Jaekyung. However, their lack of success is explained by their lack of talent 
(chapter 46) exposing the lack of ambition and commitment from the two hyungs. It is clear that Joo Jaekyung’s wealth and fame was used to attract the sportsmen creating a myth that they could experience the same success. Nevertheless, as time passed on, the fighters were confronted with reality. It was, as if the athlete’s achievement had become a curse for Team Black. Nonetheless, neither the manager nor the coach can admit it, the champion’s bad temper is utilized to cover the mismanagement within the gym. Striking is that by portraying the protagonist as a person with a bad temper and personality 
(chapter 54) 
(chapter 66) His presence is necessary to maintain the “myth” alive. 
(chapter 66) In calling Kim Dan ‘defect,’ Joo Jaekyung is unknowingly projecting his own self-perception onto him. The term suggests something broken but also something that can be repaired, reflecting an unconscious shift in his perspective. Instead of simply using Kim Dan as part of a superstition, he is beginning to see his vulnerability, perhaps even recognizing a parallel to his own struggles. His choice of words also reveals his deeply ingrained belief in self-reliance. 
(chapter 66) Nevertheless, the idiom (“he’s got a defect”) reveal that Joo Jaekyung is still under the manager’s influence. This means that this shift is not immediate or conscious; it is restrained by his continued loyalty to Park Namwook and his ingrained avoidance of emotional vulnerability.
(chapter 60) This scene represents the exception. For the most part of the time, the star only visited the gym because Park Namwook had contacted him. 
(chapter 54) 
(chapter 66) Striking is that by each meeting, the champion was alone with the manager. The latter was no longer followed by coach Yosep. It was, as if Park Namwook wanted to have some privacy with the celebrity. However, through this contrast, Jinx-lovers can detect a certain MO from the manager: he is isolating the champion, limiting his interactions with other members. This explicates why he remains a pivotal force in Joo Jaekyung’s stagnation. 
(chapter 66) Yet, just moments later, he tells him that he can take more time to rest, as if feigning concern. This contradiction is striking because it exposes his underlying agenda: he wants Joo Jaekyung back in the gym but doesn’t want to appear forceful. Instead, he makes it seem like Joo Jaekyung is the one making the decision, fostering guilt by implying that his long absence is unnatural.
(chapter 27) This double standard highlights Park Namwook’s true role: he is not a supportive figure but a handler, ensuring that Joo Jaekyung remains under control and fulfilling his duties as a fighter. His words are not meant to provide genuine support but to keep Joo Jaekyung tethered to a system where his worth is defined solely by his success in the ring. 
(chapter 54) or (un)favorable interviews about the athlete. 
(chapter 54) 
(Chapter 57) As a manager, Park Namwook’s role involves overseeing Joo Jaekyung’s career, securing contracts, and ensuring his reputation remains intact. Yet, as seen in Chapter 66, his actual concerns seem remarkably narrow in scope. 
(chapter 48) Back then, there was a witness, Kwak Junbeom and the latter could have reported to the “hyung”. These incidents indicate a consistent effort to control what the champion knows, raising the critical question: why?? His silence on this matter suggests not only a strategic decision to keep the star uninformed, but also an attempt to avoid responsibility. The supervisor often hesitates to make decisive choices 
(chapter 50), preferring instead to remain passive so that any negative outcomes can be blamed on the champion. At the same time, this passivity helps him maintain control—as if Joo Jaekyung, without his guidance, would be left ‘alone’ and directionless. In this way, the man with the glasses sustains a dynamic in which the champion feels dependent on his presence, even as he is subtly undermined. By neglecting to inform him of these events, Park Namwook ensures that the champion remains unaware of external factors that could influence his choices. This pattern reinforces the possibility that Park Namwook was aware of the meeting with Choi Gilseok and deliberately ignored it, likely expecting that Joo Jaekyung would take care of it, while absolving himself of responsibility. 
(chapter 22) They had heard about his place, for the manager must have talked about it. The protagonist is not someone who will talk about his private life to others. The manager must have dangled promises in front of them, making them believe that if they’re lucky enough, they too could live like the champion. However, their reactions reveal something crucial—they are not motivated by greed but by genuine admiration. They simply want to experience the luxury once in a while, reinforcing that their bond with Joo Jaekyung is rooted in camaraderie rather than material envy. This further highlights the contrast between Park Namwook’s manipulation and the sincere regard his teammates have for him. This scene is important, because it exposes the manager’s prejudices and lack of discernment. 
(chapter 46) Not everyone is the same and more importantly like him! It is clear that the man is projecting his own principles onto others and in particular onto the champion. 
(chapter 66) Neither of them fully understands how to acknowledge care or support. Just as Joo Jaekyung struggles to recognize his actions as stemming from concern 
(chapter 66) rather than routine, Kim Dan fails to see Joo Jaekyung’s interventions as genuine help. This mutual misunderstanding deepens the emotional rift between them, ensuring that both remain trapped in their own perceptions of obligation rather than connection. In Chapter 66, he openly expresses frustration, stating, 
(chapter 66). This moment highlights a rare glimpse of honesty: he is not acting purely out of self-interest, but he frames it as an obligation rather than a choice. From my point of view, such a statement could only reach the physical therapist’s mind, for in the latter’s eyes, the champion has always been a “demon”: self-centered and inconsiderate. Observe the absence of reply from the “hamster”. He couldn’t contradict the star, as the latter was using this negative image: bad tempered and selfish.
. The reason is simple. He was portrayed as someone who would do favors to people constantly: his grandmother 
(chapter 7) and even Choi Heesung. Hence the latter called him like that: 
(chapter 30) Kim Dan’s perception of himself as an “angel” has long shaped the way he interprets his relationship with Joo Jaekyung. Reinforced by his upbringing and Park Namwook’s subtle manipulation 
(chapter 36), he has unconsciously placed himself in a position of moral superiority. He is the patient, understanding figure, while Joo Jaekyung, in contrast, is violent 
(chapter 1), selfish, and emotionally stunted. However, this self-perception is deeply flawed. By believing himself to be inherently better 
(chapter 66) The expression “Really…?” is not just about disbelief but also about a moment of confrontation with reality. Up until this point, Kim Dan has been dismissing his own suffering, suppressing his struggles, and functioning on autopilot. However, hearing a professional confirm that he is indeed sick forces him to acknowledge what he has been denying.
(chapter 60) or exaggerations. 
(chapter 66) It also forces him to consider that others—especially Joo Jaekyung—were right to be concerned, which in turn may lead to a shift in his perception of the champion’s actions.
(chapter 20) with shame, something impure that should be avoided or hidden. This internalized belief made it difficult for him to separate his own experiences from moral judgment. When he encountered the champion —who treated sex as nothing more than a professional ritual 
(chapter 66) He assumed once again that the star had taken advantage of his “drunkenness”, something Kim Dan had done himself in the past.
(chapter 40) , while Kim Dan, conditioned by years of emotional neglect, sees gratitude as a transactional exchange rather than an expression of genuine appreciation. 
(chapter 66) because Kim Dan does not recognize his efforts, while Kim Dan cannot see past his own survival instincts to notice that Joo Jaekyung’s actions are slowly shifting from obligation to care. Kim Dan, conditioned by years of neglect and survival-driven thinking, does not see Joo Jaekyung’s actions as genuine care. 
(chapter 66) And the latter can see beyond the appearances. 
(chapter 36), his tendency to retreat rather than challenge his own doubts 
(chapter 36), and his overwhelming fear of disappointing others 
(chapter 62), Joo Jaekyung does not. The evidence for this interpretation is the champion’s nightmare: 
(chapter 18) the doctor 
(chapter 25) Therefore the physical therapist bought books. Moreover, we should consider this argument 
(chapter 45) Since in Seoul, Kim Dan has only been hired because of sex (Joo Jaekyung, the perverted hospital director)
(chapter 62) Due to his bad past experiences, he concluded deep down that his CV was not reflecting the truth. 
(chapter 48) exemplifies this pattern: 
(chapter 48) It was not the right time. He assumed his voice held no weight, reflecting years of learned helplessness. It shows how Kim Dan internalizes responsibility for things beyond his control. He thinks that withholding information is an act of protection rather than avoidance. Yet in doing so, he denies himself agency in his own life.
(chapter 62) First, he considers himself as waste. While in the past, he was at least a tool, he is now garbage. Hence his feelings are “trash”. 
(chapter 62) This means that in episode 62, he felt worse than in episode 18! The idioms “trash” and “waste” revealed the doctor’s own self-perception in episode 62: he saw himself as totally useless. He belonged to the “wastebasket”, just like the golden key chain. 
(chapter 46) Thus I deduce that the fate of this item echoes the doctor’s. 
(chapter 59) However, observe that he is using the expressions “do” and “now”. This has nothing to do with the future and dreams. It is not a reflection on his own desires but rather an immediate reaction to his circumstances. His mindset is still trapped in survival mode, seeking a course of action rather than contemplating what he truly wants. His words reflect an urgency to act rather than an opportunity to dream. This highlights that he has spent his entire life making decisions based on necessity rather than personal fulfillment. Even when faced with uncertainty, he does not ask himself what he wants—only what he must do next. His transformation will only be complete when he begins to question not just how to survive, but how to live on his own terms. That’s how I realized why Mingwa put this question in front of the window covered with Venetian blinds [which made me think of this scene 
(chapter 39 – Venice, a travel to Italy]. The window with the Venetian blinds represents a metaphor for the doctor’s trapped dreams. This interpretation made me recognize another aspect. Kim Dan is pushed to meditate, when he is front of a window or better said close to the sky! Hence the hamster started thinking about his own future in the penthouse 
(chapter 19) or when he looked at the sun and sky: 
(chapter 41) 
(chapter 41) And the best evidence for this interpretation and expectation is doc Dan’s cellphone screen display. 
(chapter 47) The picture from his childhood: himself with his grandmother. 
(chapter 38) No wonder why he questioned the meaning of his champion title: 
(chapter 54). He saw the belt as something rather “meaningless”. 
(chapter 43) This would boost the doctor’s self-esteem. He is not trash, but an acknowledged fan and friend. The picture would encourage the physical therapist to develop his own ambitions. As soon as I made this discovery, another detail caught my notice: 
(chapter 66) The celebrity has no picture of Park Namwook in his contacts divulging the superficiality of their relationship. 
(chapter 42) The problem is that the athlete took this recommendation personally. He felt as if his job as fighter was questioned. 
(chapter 62) According to the main lead, the champion is “wasting his time here”. 
(chapter 62)
(chapter 57) Hence it is clear that in the future, the physical therapist would refuse to use any kind of spray. On the other hand, it is important to recall that back then, Joo Jaekyung had made the request himself: 
(chapter 57) 
(chapter 1) with a previous PT like the spray? No wonder why he called himself “trash” in the end. 
, people might wonder why I selected dandelions as a frame for the selected.. It’s clear that the dandelions aren’t just there for aesthetic balance. Their symbolism is profound. Dandelions are often associated with childhood innocence, wishes, and fleeting moments of beauty, yet they also wither quickly, easily scattered by the wind. In the context of Jinx, they represent a transitory force—something that struggles to take root, much like the intangible and fleeting elements in Kim Dan’s life. But there’s more to it. Before delving into deeper analysis, consider this: what is the common denominator in all these scenes?
(chapter 37) Therefore it is not surprising that the main lead couldn’t view the members as friends in the end. 
(chapter 41) And now, you comprehend why Joo Jaekyung has always disliked his birthday and the “congratulations” from people in general. The gifts and words were like poisoned praises to his soul. They were pushing him to live like a “god”. 
(chapter 59) While this photography was not a personal and intimate picture, it also symbolizes his first root in the little community: Light of Hope Hospice. He is part of the staff and as such of the little town. On the other side, we could say, he is gradually entering the scene as a PT. Note the contrast to the food truck: 
(chapter 30) In other words, it exposes the actor’s hypocrisy and wrongdoings. And now, you understand why I wrote genuine in parentheses above [proof of (genuine) human connection]. Photography in Jinx also represents the evidence of wrongdoing 
(chapter 48) and deception: 
(chapter 46) The exact opposite of the dandelions.
(chapter 66) reveals Kim Dan’s elevation in the champion’s life. The dressing room symbolizes privacy and closeness. No longer seen as a mere tool, Kim Dan has become an integral part of Joo Jaekyung’s world, not because of what he can do but because of who he is. 
(chapter 66) Therefore the champion is holding the expensive gift with his whole hand contrary to the past: 
(chapter 55) As a conclusion, by bringing him to the sleep specialist, the star proved doc Dan’s words wrong! He told him something that doc Dan didn’t know: he is precious. He needs to pay attention to his health and body.
(chapter 32) And now, you comprehend why the athlete didn’t fall for Park Namwook’s manipulations afterwards.
(chapter 65) At the same time, such a disapproval 
(chapter 1), hence his true desire was to run away from that place. For praise to be effective, the recipient must be open to receiving it, either by looking forward to feedback or having expectations of validation. Since Kim Dan was in a state of distress, he was unable to internalize the champion’s words, reinforcing his long-standing belief that he was invisible or unworthy of acknowledgment. That’s how the champion’s praise became a dandelion seed in the end.
(chapter 18) 
(chapter 64) 
(chapter 66) Is this a joke? 
(chapter 40) However, Kim Dan has never realized it. Either he was sleeping or totally out of it (fear of sex) 
(chapter 27) It is important to recall the importance of the receiver’s mind-set. The latter has to perceive the sincerity from the speaker. Hence I come to the following deduction: The moment Kim Dan notices Joo Jaekyung’s smile and laugh, then he should come to the conclusion that he matters to the protagonist. I would even say, the two protagonists are destined to make each other laugh and smile: 
(chapter 58) The friends ignored the main lead’s emotions and struggles. In order to be able to have fun, both main leads must be freed from their past and low self-esteem. 
(chapter 64), and the language of touch—their dynamic undergoes a profound shift. This moment is not just about desire but about power, communication, and the fight for control. It is in this intimate space that both men are confronted with their vulnerabilities 
(chapter 64) and the evolving nature of their relationship. During this lavender-tinted night, their intimacy is no longer just a matter of physicality—it becomes a language of contradictions. Through grasping, biting, and kissing, their touch oscillates between control and vulnerability, rejection and longing. This moment encapsulates the shifting power dynamics between them, where Jaekyung’s physical presence no longer guarantees submission 
(chapter 64), and Kim Dan begins to push back, not with force, but with emotional detachment. He avoids his gaze, hides his moaning and as such remains silent. This night is a pivotal moment, signaling the champion’s awakening to his emotions and Kim Dan’s assertion of his autonomy. 
(chapter 63) it is a stark contrast to the usual aggressive or mechanical physicality of their past encounters. Let’s not forget that when the athlete kissed the doctor for the first time 
(chapter 14) in the locker room, he not only used his hand 
(chapter 14) This comparison outlines that their first kiss was more the result of conscious and tactical decisions than of passion and desire. It was not only to protect the hamster’s life, but also to be able to fight against Randy Booker. In other words, their first kiss was strongly intertwined with work and absence of consent. He had not informed Doc Dan before.
(chapter 63), until the latter finally opened his mouth. This gesture reminded me of a wolf licking his progeniture in order to show affection. My avid readers will certainly recall my analysis of their “love session” at the penthouse in Episode 44: there were traces of “animalistic behavior” 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 63) represented the next step of his “generosity”. Yet, the divergence is that the star had done the French Kiss by instincts, whereas the fellatio was more a calculated move. He selected this new approach based on his own likes and experiences. In other words, this magical night represents the birth of a “lover” and “boyfriend”. 
(chapter 63) It is clear that Kim Dan had anticipated a different approach: a renewal of their First wedding night. The irony is that the French kiss and the fellatio became the evidence that the star was not treating the doctor as a doll per se. Why? The star has changed a lot due to the main lead’s influence. He had gained knowledge and confidence. Nevertheless, their interaction here forces a confrontation not just between them, but within themselves—Jaekyung, who has always relied on physical dominance to maintain control, is confronted with a newfound uncertainty, while Kim Dan, whose silence once reinforced Jaekyung’s belief in his own power, now wields that same silence as a weapon.
(chapter 61) or exhaustion—has his tongue metaphorically freed by this act. 
(chapter 63) The significance of this kiss becomes evident when, later that night, he finally speaks up, voicing everything he has suppressed. 
(chapter 64), the scent in the air 
(as seen through the presence of scent sticks in the background), and the vision and sensation of the man beneath him. Unlike the previous intimate moment in Chapter 44, where he was inebriated, this time he is conscious. 
(chapter 64) This is the rebirth of Jaekyung—not as the infallible champion but as a man experiencing intimacy in a new way.
(chapter 64) It indicates that the star was actually revealing his attraction toward his companion. We could say that with this attitude, he was gradually lowering his guard. But there’s more to it. Just before he “was going to finish inside”, he chose to kiss his partner. 
(chapter 64) This privileged position indicates that the main lead was not ready to face Kim Dan’s gaze during an orgasm. In other words, he had not entirely lowered his guard in front of the doctor. The reason is simple. While he was giving pleasure to his partner, this is what he was forced to see: 
(chapter 64) Under this new light, I deduce that the champion was not aware of the true motivations behind his actions. He was actually longing for the doctor’s love and embrace. 
(chapter 64) His act of biting his lips in Chapter 64 is not just a nervous tic; it expresses not only physical manifestation of his restraint, but also his suicidal tendencies. He doesn’t mind hurting himself. This shows that he still doesn’t value and treasure his own body.
(chapter 57) and overworks himself. That’s the reason why I couldn’t truly rejoice when Kim Dan rejected the champion. In fact, he selected work and pain over “joy and pleasure”. And why? Because of the past and the athlete’s actions.
(chapter 15) and touches were purely acts of dominance—ways to assert ownership over Kim Dan. However, the ear lick, which almost looks like a bite, in Chapter 64 carries a different weight. 
(chapter 64) He refused to see and listen to others and to the athlete, because he was trying to deny the existence of his love. The reason is simple. He is trapped in his own world, full of darkness. He was trying to clinch onto the past, where he portrayed himself as a victim and doll of the champion. But the reality is that doc Dan treated himself as a doll or servant, for he didn’t value his own body. Hence he didn’t eat properly and drank soju to drown his pain. 
(chapter 5) This is a habit he had before he met Joo Jaekyung. Moreover the latter was living in abstinence, until he drank alcohol by mistake because of him.
(chapter 24) of Season 1. Instead, there is waiting and hesitation, an unspoken question in the way he leans in. For the first time, it seems as though he is searching for something more—perhaps a response, a reciprocation, or even just an acknowledgment from Kim Dan. This shift underscores Jaekyung’s internal transformation; he is gradually internalizing Kim Dan’s values and beginning to approach intimacy differently, even if he himself is not yet fully aware of it.
(chapter 64). He thought, using strength could still help him to conquer Kim Dan’s heart, though it is just an unconscious attempt. 
(chapter 8) 
(chapter 15) 
(chapter 61) That’s the reason why during this lavender-tinted night, Mingwa used reflections of all sex sessions from season 1. Let’s not forget that Joo Jaekyung was never seen cleaning up “the mess” he made. Doc Dan had to clean himself, which is the reason why he made the following request: 
(chapter 29) Not washing his partner implies his refusal of becoming responsible. The problem is that since it was a first for him, he has no idea about its true meaning. Besides, due to his own traumas and fears, he didn’t pay attention to his PT’s emotions and well-being. Striking is that Joo Jaekyung compared himself to fire during that night. 
(chapter 63) And what is the opposite to fire? WATER!! Thus this image came to my mind. How do you kill desires and passion? One might say by becoming ice-cold! However, my answer is this: by pouring a glass of cold water on the champion’s face! Yes… 
(chapter 37) This means that Joo Jaekyung is getting punished for this gesture. Let’s not forget that he mentioned their stay in the States to bring back good memories. But I have another reference for this interpretation. 
(chapter 64) This panel is a reflection from that particular day: 
(chapter 27) And where did he go to calm down? In the swimming pool… 
(chapter 61) While with his words, he implied that his fated partner was a man obsessed with sex, his complaint reveals his mindset. First, he is the one longing for human warmth 
(chapter 59), hence he felt terrible sleeping alone. Secondly, he does not attribute worth to his own physical being beyond its utility for others. This explains why he has consistently neglected himself—avoiding food, disregarding his own injuries, and refusing to seek medical help when necessary.
(chapter 60) It underscores the reality that without his body, he cannot work. In this way, his physical deterioration forces him to confront an undeniable truth: 
(chapter 59) his body is not just a tool for others, but the very foundation of his survival. I would even so far to say that his sick and stressed body would question his identity as PT and caregiver. 
(chapter 43), they will replace him with a new ‘doll.’ This exploitation shaped his relationship with his own body—one that prioritized its use over its care.
(chapter 26) and 62 
(chapter 62) that highlighted a crucial shift in how each of them perceives their own worth—and, more importantly, each other’s. The mirroring of these two episodes suggests a deliberate narrative structure that showcases their evolving dynamic, with each character taking on a role the other once held. This realization led me to explore how their perspectives on strength, vulnerability, and agency transform over time.
(chapter 26) 
(chapter 26) 
(chapter 26) This small yet significant act reveals that the champion does not see Kim Dan merely as a ‘sex doll’ but as someone worth protecting, even when challenging him. The protective gear is a contrast to Joo Jaekyung’s usual treatment of his one-night stands, reflecting an unconscious distinction between how he views Kim Dan versus his other partners. Finally, this sparring day exposes the doctor’s biased perception about the athlete in episode 62 once again. 
(chapter 26) —a powerful, intimidating man who mirrors the threat of Heo Manwook 
(chapter 16) and his minions. At the beginning of the fight, the doctor was not fighting for himself but for someone else, reinforcing his deep-seated belief that his worth was tied to service and sacrifice. However, during the match of the century, there was a short change. Kim Dan was reminded of his own past and fears. Thus, I deduce that in episode 62, it is Joo Jaekyung who must face his own greatest challenge—not a physical opponent, but the emotional vulnerability that comes with loss and uncertainty. Though he helped others, his generosity remained unnoticed by Kim Dan. Hence the latter was still unwilling to return to Seoul. 
(chapter 26), was happy to demonstrate his talents and kept smiling all the time: 
(chapter 25) Kim Dan was interested to know more about this sport for the protagonist’s sake, whereas Potato was jealous of Kim Dan’s closeness to the star. How did the celebrity react, when he heard the doctor’s desire to learn fighting moves? He was totally pleased, hence he lowered himself smiling 
(chapter 25). Notice that he employed the word “happy” here. This shows that the athlete liked to be a teacher and mentor to a novice. 
(chapter 26), reinforcing his belief that his worth lies in service, and he requests an opportunity for someone else. The physical challenge that followed, in which the champion invited him into the ring, was meant to teach Kim Dan to overcome fear, though the original idea was to learn jujitsu moves for the champion’s sake. As you can see, there was a switch in the intentions for the “lesson”. This moment also highlights Joo Jaekyung’s approach to the body—power, physicality, and dominance, which will later be subverted in episode 62 when emotional resilience becomes the true test of strength. 
(chapter 26) Though the doctor was initially immobile and passive, the experience became a significant lesson: fear was something that could be faced and overcome. From that moment on, he became more proactive 
(chapter 26) This is a moment of physical initiation for Kim Dan, teaching him resilience. Nonetheless, he was still fighting for someone else, still locked in his pattern of self-neglect.
(chapter 62) This shift highlights a deeper irony: while Joo Jaekyung has always prided himself on his physical strength, he is now being tested in a way that cannot be resolved with fists.
(chapter 54)
(chapter 34), wealth 
(chapter 42) and title
(chapter 55), not for its attractiveness or desirability. His reputation in bed has been poor; 
(chapter 33), he was never seen as a man with sex appeal or sensuality, but merely as a fighter who could endure. Sex was another form of exertion, a display of control and dominance rather than a pursuit of pleasure. 
(chapter 29) On the other hand, this suggestion challenges Joo Jaekyung’s previous experiences, forcing him to realize that he has never had to woo or seduce anyone before. This was the only time, where Jinx-philes could see him using his sex-appeal- 
(chapter 34) He got confident, because he had played a trick on his room mate. His physicality has always been his defining trait, but for the first time, he is being confronted with the question: does he have more to offer beyond brute strength and money? If he wants to prove his worth, he must do more than rely on his body—he must reveal his true self.
(chapter 62) He does not plead; he challenges. This reversal is significant because it places Joo Jaekyung in the uncomfortable position of emotional uncertainty. In episode 26, the champion was confident in his control over the situation. In episode 62, he is on the verge of losing control—not over a fight, but over a person. Hence he can no longer control his erection. 
(chapter 61) Why does he want him to return to Seoul? Is he really looking for a physical therapist or something else? It is clear that he is longing for companionship.
(chapter 26), which represents the MMA fighter’s world, the wolf is now the one penetrating Kim Dan’s world: the treatment table! 
(chapter 62) 
(chapter 1) The blue treatment table is the witness and proof that the champion never saw Kim Dan as a sex doll. So far, they never had sex on it, a sign that he respected not only Kim Dan as PT, but also the profession as such 
(chapter 27) Here, the champion suggested to have sex at home, and not on the table. On the other hand, Jinx-philes will certainly recall this scene where the doctor begged on his knees for money: 
(chapter 11) That’s how I discovered a strong connection between this item and sexuality. First, the one fantasying about the champion’s body on the treatment table had been Kim Dan 
(chapter 1). 
(chapter 1) The massage must have felt like caresses to Joo Jaekyung. So when the main lead made this mistake 
(chapter 37) In the States, the athlete received his treatment on the floor, a sign of a disrespect for that profession from the manager and even MFC. They somehow knew that the fighter had brought his “sex partner” for his jinx, but they had no idea about his identity. By paying attention to the blue treatment table, I realized that this item stands for power, secret, courage and vulnerability.
(chapter 62) According to my interpretation, Joo Jaekyung had interpreted the mistake for some advances and keep in mind that the fighter felt also attracted to the physical therapist. 
(chapter 1) -thus he asked for a treatment. He was about to drop the man.
(chapter 1) However, contrary to their first encounter, the champion would be talking to his neighbor. While the doctor is thinking, he will relive his first night in the penthouse, the other might reproduce his first treatment, though it should be certainly combined with the intercourse on the couch: . 
(chapter 29) 
(chapter 62) But he made such an offer, because he thought, he was respecting the doctor’s wish. This shows that the athlete needs to converse properly with the doctor and not just make assumptions (MO from his manager). Moreover, the star has never expressed his gratitude and admiration towards Kim Dan concerning his talents and efforts openly. The problem is that he can not compliment him yet, because Joo Jaekyung is trying to “forget” the past and as such he is repressing the fight with Baek Junmin. I feel like the champion is on his way to discover the medical world and chapter 62 represents a prelude.
(chapter 57) He should have sent her to the hospital and ensure that she received treatment. Notably, after the sea incident, Joo Jaekyung took Kim Dan to the hospital, but the latter rejected the champion’s advice and help. 
(chapter 13) So it dawned on me that if the doctor gets sick, Joo Jaekyung will be fueled with regrets and guilt, as he didn’t listen to Cheolmin’s advice. So this could lead him to apologize to Kim Dan. On the other hand, his illness could serve as a reminder to the fighter that he needs to treat his physical therapist and friend better. He only sent for the doctor because of “sex”. To conclude, both would be responsible for this terrible situation, a balance of responsibility. 
(chapter 57) is not just a symptom of overwork and lack of sleep—it symbolizes the deep imbalance in his life. His world consists only of work 
(chapter 61) His mind and heart are no longer listening; he is trapped in his own darkness. His dizziness and fainting spells mirror this imbalance, making his physical weakness a reflection of his emotional detachment.
(chapter 54) and drinking habits. 
(chapter 54) His entire life has been dedicated to work and physical prowess, leaving no space for genuine happiness or emotional well-being. His drinking is not just an escape—it is a manifestation of his need to silence his thoughts and emotions. In episode 44, when Kim Dan expressed admiration for his body, he patted his head
(chapter 54) His headaches intensified, and he isolated himself, mirroring Kim Dan’s earlier state of detachment. His drinking hadn’t just become a habit—it was mourning, a sign of his internal loss. It was, as if deep down he wanted to forget this intoxicating feeling of happiness from that night in the penthouse. The departure of Kim Dan caused both of them to lose their already fragile balance, reinforcing the idea that their dynamic, as unhealthy as it had been, was stabilizing them in ways they never acknowledged.
(chapter 56) It was, as if the champion no longer needed to see his former room mate. Note that he even waited for the evening before approaching doc Dan again. 
(chapter 60), he immediately went to the town. This contradiction reveals that mere visual presence was never sufficient—what he truly longed for was something deeper. And as soon as he saw him, he felt much better, 
(chapter 61) hence he could remove his splint. That’s how powerful drug Kim Dan is. 😉
(chapter 61) While undergoing treatment, he saw Kim Dan every day, yet he remained unsatisfied due to the silent treatment. It was not enough to simply observe him; what Joo Jaekyung truly craved was conversation, interaction, and recognition. This explains his decision to move into the town, settling near Kim Dan as his neighbor. 
(chapter 46) He is full of prejudices and not willing to listen to his boss. Therefore Joo Jaekyung doesn’t know that in order to become close, conversations must never be one-sided and have to be free from prejudices and assumptions. Joo Jaekyung needs to listen and show an interest in his partner. And now, observe the communication between the two main leads in the room. 
(chapter 62) he had previously ignored—he is undeniably attracted to Kim Dan’s body, particularly his nipples, which have repeatedly 
(chapter 27) triggered strong reactions in him. 
(chapter 29) That’s the moment he expressed his interest in the doctor’s nipples for the first time. This even became a habit: 
(chapter 44). And what did the doctor whisper during that magical night? 
(chapter 44) He wanted him to treasure his body!! In my eyes, Kim Dan’s suggestion in episode 62 is hiding another intention, though it is definitely unconscious: 
(chapter 44) He wants to relive that night
(chapter 44), though in his mind, he desires to have a bad experience so that he can erase him from his mind. Finally, what do the nipples symbolize? Motherhood and nurturing. 
(chapter 57) 
(chapter 26) Moreover, it was thanks to a trick that Kim Dan won: 
(chapter 26) 
(chapter 26) He felt superior and strong, whereas his rival was weak. Moreover, he imagined that Kim Dan would ask for money for the bet. 
(chapter 26) That’s why I believe that in the next episode, the roles should be switched. Kim Dan always saw himself morally superior and caring to the star, but in truth, his care was rather superficial, for he also showed no interest in the champion’s past and family. Thus I come to the following deduction that episode 62 suggests that arguing is not about losing or winning, but about listening. The champion has unknowingly become a caretaker, not only to the people of the town but, potentially, to Kim Dan himself. The question remains whether he will recognize that Kim Dan’s provocation is not just another fight lost (cutting off ties) —it is a seductive challenge to redefine his understanding of worth and their relationship. What are they to each other? A client and a prostitute? A fighter and a doctor? Or simply two men who are longing for the same: belonging and love. Nevertheless, due to their past, they are unable to detect the true source of their misery: their lack of reflection, own bias and anxieties.
(chapter 60) However, this revelation sheds light on a deeper issue: his unquestioned reliance on the spray over Kim Dan’s expertise. 
(chapter 49), Joo Jaekyung chose to rely on external medicine rather than the “power of hands” that the nurse in the hospice later praises. 
(chapter 55) But why was he thinking like that? He came to this judgement for two reasons. On the one hand, he was recalling the physical therapist’s nightly desertions. The latter chose to work as a courier instead of focusing on his main job. Moreover, the fact that he hadn’t checked the spray right before using it 
(chapter 51) This explains why the athlete imagined that Kim Dan had resigned due to his mistake. 
(chapter 55) However, this assumption is not only incorrect but unjust, as Kim Dan’s quick and effective treatment of his shoulder clearly demonstrates the contrary. 
(chapter 42) Finally, note that Baek Junmin was not able to defeat the dragon despite targeting his fragile shoulder. 
(chapter 50) The match ended up as a tie. 
(chapter 60) and his failure to shield Kim Dan from blame. The clenched hands symbolize the internal struggle between an internal conflict between anger, indifference and lingering hurt caused by the lack of trust. What caught my attention is the sound of his jaw, KRIK, which reminded me of the star’s behavior. 
(chapter 56) This jaw’s movement symbolizes the return of instincts and as such to the champion’s true nature: he is a wolf. This means that the doctor is gradually losing his gentle nature and is on the verge of becoming a “wolf”. No wonder why he mimicked like the athlete at the end of episode 60: 
(chapter 60) He is acting like a loner wolf, whereas in reality his true personality is a hamster and duck. 
(chapter 52) By failing to provide a full explanation, Joo Jaekyung created the illusion that the matter was resolved. This lack of transparency leaves Kim Dan burdened with guilt and confusion, unable to find closure.
(chapter 54), he is unaware that The Shotgun was merely a pawn used by Choi Gilseok, who had larger, more manipulative intentions. 
(chapter 52) I doubt that Potato told him about the director’s bet, too upset to discover the switched spray. The fighter’s ignorance mirrors Kim Dan’s in a way, highlighting how both are victims of deceit. This conversation further reflects their lack of communication, as it seems Joo Jaekyung deliberately avoids sharing his thoughts and knowledge with Kim Dan. 
(chapter 52), where Joo Jaekyung’s team visits him after the surgery at the hospital. Notably, the team members only address him when they need him to take the blame for the situation. Through this comparison, I noticed another aspect. They were all standing at a certain distance from the star’s bed. This exposes that none of them had the intention to spend time there and to give company to the athlete. At the same time, their position divulges their arrogance, lack of empathy or worries! Yes, no one is assuming that the athlete’s career is in danger. They are all somehow expecting that he will return to the ring. No wonder why their focus is entirely on the job, ignoring his well-being. When Joo Jaekyung finally voices his frustration and unwell-being 
(chapter 52), he is silenced with a slap. 
(chapter 60) Having grown up in an environment where emotional needs were consistently invalidated, he is blind to the damage his actions cause. Consequently, Kim Dan’s rejection and refusal to listen to him are understandable. 
(chapter 60) The treatment is the symbol of the champion’s generosity and rescue. However, this is no longer working. So we could say that this gesture reflects the fate of the golden key chain. 
(chapter 45) After being blamed in the past, Kim Dan has reached his limit and chosen to stop engaging with Joo Jaekyung. However, this reaction risks exacerbating Kim Dan’s denial of his own mental illness, as he suppresses his emotions and isolates himself further. Contrary to the keychain, he can not be replaced. If he doesn’t get treated properly, his life could be in danger. 
(chapter 54) reveals a deeper issue: his belief that drugs can compensate for his mistreatment of his own body. 
(chapter 7) and the number 62 mirrors the famous fight in episode 62: 
(Episode 60). Both moments carry significant emotional weight but reflect different facets of their dynamic, from selfishness to selflessness, secrecy to openness, and miscommunication to recognition. The setting and circumstances surrounding these kisses not only highlight the characters’ growth but also underscore the unresolved struggles they face.
(chapter 14), acted particularly rough with Kim Dan 
(chapter 14), only snapping back to reality when he felt Kim Dan’s body trembling. 
(chapter 14) This moment of realization, coupled with the doctor’s tears and plea 
(chapter 14), served as the trigger for Joo Jaekyung to recall Cheolmin’s recommendation 
(chapter 13) As you can see, through the comparison with the kiss on the beach, I realized the doctor’s passivity and lack of critical thinking in season 1. He never asked why the athlete was so rough during sex. He took this for a normality. His attitude exposed the doctor’s biased perception of his boss: a spoiled and rough man obsessed with sex. I would even add that the kiss had a positive effect on the protagonist 
(chapter 15), a confined space symbolizing Joo Jaekyung’s need to keep his relationships private. Picking up partners at a VIP club 
(chapter 60) Moreover, in the past, the locker room 
(chapter 14) even excluding Park Namwook, who was even seen before stationed outside the bathroom door, 
(chapter 14) signaling a gradual exclusion of others from his private life and emotions. By Episode 15, Joo Jaekyung explicitly sent away his manager to have a private conversation with Kim Dan. 
(chapter 14) This shift highlights the increasing importance of Kim Dan in Joo Jaekyung’s personal sphere. Interestingly, this progression is contrasted by Episode 49, where Joo Jaekyung deliberately ensured 
(chapter 49) he was not left alone with Kim Dan. This means that this place was no longer the synonym for privacy and secret. This reflects why director Choi could intrude with his minions. Following the incident with the switched spray, Kim Dan was left behind 
(chapter 50) in the locker room twice 
(chapter 51), which could only increase the physical therapist’s feelings that he didn’t belong to Team Black. He was not part of that “family”. And this coincides with the moment where Kim Dan cries for the last time: 
(chapter 51) From that moment on, the main lead won’t show his vulnerability and pain to others. This gesture announces the return of his “blue friend”, the depression. 
(chapter 47) And now, you are wondering how this is relevant to the scene on the beach. Joo Jaekyung got shocked and scared, but he didn’t cry later and it is the same for Kim Dan. Hence the latter could deny his presence on the beach and even ignore the athlete’s words: 
(chapter 60) 
(chapter 51), his lack of loyalty, his greed and obsession for money. 
(chapter 51) Though the champion was restraining himself, he didn’t realize that his words were like punches to Kim Dan. The latter got to hear what he didn’t know. 
(chapter 52) The conversation in the locker room symbolically announced the champion’s private struggles to the media, as his bad temper was made public shortly after. 
(chapter 15) , representing his need for mental and emotional support, which his team and entourage failed to provide. While the CPR kiss could be dismissed as a rescue, it symbolically represents a step toward Joo Jaekyung revealing his true self. The kiss marks a moment where he unconsciously begins to acknowledge his feelings and his homosexuality, even in a setting where others could witness it.
(chapter 60) was surrounded by nature. Hence they could show their true self: their exhaustion, desire and emotions. While the doctor was suicidal due to his depression and fatigue, the champion’s worries were genuine. Yet Kim Dan was not able to hear them. 
(chapter 60) This means that on the beach, Kim Dan could only detect one thing: Joo Jaekyung’s presence. But he didn’t sense his kisses and hear his words. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that this scene stands under the sign of “dream and illusion”. 
(chapter 60) Hence he came to reject his “intervention” as a lie and deception. The reality is that Joo Jaekyung does care for him, but he doesn’t know how to show it. He fears attachment. Because of his misjudgement, Kim Dan is not capable to notice the transformation in his former boss. 
(chapter 49) His muscles are less pronounced. He is also wasting away. 
(chapter 49), who believed that physical strength alone would solve his problems. This environment denied him the mental and emotional support he truly needed. 
(chapter 54) Because Joo Jaekyung saw it in a vision, it becomes clear that the athlete is still in denial about his wrongdoing. Therefore he didn’t apologize for his false accusations and his bad perception of the physical therapist: 
(chapter 60, reducing his identity to his need for money, while Kim Dan rejects his offer, his help and conceals his pain. It is not surprising that Kim Dan left the treatment room. 
(chapter 60) The lies and miscommunication fade in the face of the life-and-death situation. However, this recognition is short-lived, as the events at the hospice reveal Joo Jaekyung’s lingering selfishness 
further highlight his mental fragility. This fragility contrasts sharply with Joo Jaekyung’s reaction during their interaction at the hospice. When the champion angrily asks, 
, his words reveal frustration and a superficial understanding of the situation. Rather than addressing the underlying psychological distress driving Kim Dan’s actions, Joo Jaekyung perceives them as reckless behavior. His focus remains on immediate danger rather than the deeper cause, showcasing his emotional detachment and inability to grasp the full seriousness of Kim Dan’s mental state. This misinterpretation underscores how Joo Jaekyung is still projecting his own coping mechanisms onto Kim Dan, assuming that sheer willpower and physical strength can resolve emotional struggles. This moment serves as a stark reminder of Joo Jaekyung’s ongoing growth and the gaps in his understanding of Kim Dan’s suffering. His denial of having gone to the beach, despite clear evidence, points to the depth of his trauma. 
(chapter 60) at the end of episode 60 as something negative. How so? It is because Kim Dan never said this: 
(chapter 51) He never wished to never see Joo Jaekyung again. Moreover, he never regretted their meeting either. 
(chapter 44) 
(chapter 57) However, Jinx-philes should detect the divergence: she is not using the word “home”, but Seoul. That’s the reason why in the end, Shin Okja’s confession to her grandchild will come back to bite her, as she described her own grandson as a stranger in this little town. It was, as if he had been an orphan all his life. He had no home all along. 
(chapter 58) Where are the parents? Who is the man where he is staying? Where did he plan to go after his stay there? The idiom “temporarily” could be perceived as an evidence that the doctor plans to end his life. According to my interpretation, Heesung believed that the landlord was Kim Dan’s grandfather. He was just denying his origins out of shame. 
(chapter 9) The athlete has now every reason to stay there and that’s how he will discover all the doctor’s secrets and misery.
(chapter 15) kiss represents selfishness, secrecy, and miscommunication, while the beach kiss 
(chapter 59), the scene mirrors the iconic moment in The Little Mermaid where the mermaid saves the prince from drowning. Kim Dan, unconscious and seemingly following the voices of the hospice 
(chapter 59) —a representation of the mermaids’ song—drifts into a state of surrender, much like the prince. This act of salvation becomes a pivotal moment, connecting both characters to the themes of water, transformation, and rediscovery of purpose.
(chapter 41), and the mermaid, as he grapples with voicelessness and the pressures of his world. 
(chapter 36) 
(chapter 36) Choi Heesung, representing another prince with Potato as his bride, benefits from others’ sacrifices 
(chapter 31)
(chapter 58) while remaining oblivious to their struggles. These parallels reveal layers of self-discovery, mutual transformation, and the pursuit of meaning. By analyzing these similarities, we uncover deeper layers of self-discovery and transformation within the narrative.
(chapter 55) and hardship 
(chapter 58), yet it serves as the catalyst for his growth. Just as the little mermaid’s journey leads her to a higher spiritual purpose as a daughter of the air, Kim Dan’s experiences with Joo Jaekyung force him to confront his own worth, identity, and emotional needs. Just before he went to the ocean, he wondered about his own future and desires, a sign that he was standing at a crossroad: 
(chapter 57) 
(chapter 59) Like the mermaid, he has always lived disconnected from his own needs, burdened by the expectations of others—his grandmother, Heo Manwook, the doctors 
(chapter 59), he is not capable of crying. It is because he has been living like a ghost for the last two months. Depression, for both the mermaid and Kim Dan, manifests as a silent struggle, making their eventual transformations even more poignant.
(chapter 1) hiding his true self behind a facade of strength and success. On the other hand, Joo Jaekyung also embodies the mermaid’s longing and sacrifice. Living in the world of MMA, a high-pressure environment where he is constantly pushed to perform, he resembles the mermaid in the underwater kingdom—a place of death and materialism where the mermaids feed on drowned humans. It is no coincidence that the fighters are displayed like mermaids in the water full of blood. 
(chapter 57), only allowing him to speak when it benefits them financially.
(chapter 52) 
(chapter 41) Joo Jaekyung’s image was exploited to lure these individuals down a darker path, highlighting how his light has been misused by those around him.
(chapter 19) 
(chapter 56) as long as they were not associated with burden or suffering, while the mermaid’s grandmother celebrates the beauty and decorum of their underwater realm. 
(chapter 52) This dynamic parallels the members of Team Black in Jinx. Although they are treated like Joo Jaekyung’s co-workers 
(chapter 7), in reality, he is their boss and the foundation of their success. Their indifference mirrors the mermaid sisters’ behavior; they only notice his struggles and absence when his winning streak falters, prompting many to leave the gym for the rival King of MMA. However, if we take Andersen’s fairy tale as a source of inspiration, it signifies that at some point, the remaining members of Team Black might come to “sacrifice” themselves for their “little sister,” symbolically representing Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. This potential act of loyalty could mirror the mermaid sisters’ gesture, showing that even belated recognition and care can lead to transformative redemption for those involved.
(chapter 1), attracting others seeking the same level of fame and fortune. 
(chapter 22) and a “neglected child” 
(chapter 59) further emphasizes the immaturity and lack of responsibility prevalent in this environment. In Andersen’s story, the mermaid sisters are given gardens to tend from a young age, instilling responsibility early on. Potato’s journey mirrors the mermaid sisters’ visit to the surface, as his trip to the sea represents a moment of exploration and self-discovery. While working as an actor for the first time, he realizes during his stay with Kim Dan that he has no intention of leaving Team Black. 
(chapter 58) Feeling lost without Kim Dan, he initially requests his return so that they can be together again. This longing for a companion reflects Potato’s deeper need for guidance and connection, much like the mermaid sisters who briefly visit the surface but ultimately return to their underwater world when the novelty fades. Yet, when they reach maturity and are allowed to visit the surface, the novelty of the human world quickly fades, and they return to their underwater realm indifferent to human suffering. However, notice that on his day of the departure, Potato tells Kim Dan that he won’t call him, the mermaid has to initiate the first step. 
(chapter 15) strongly parallel the detached, high-pressure environment of MMA fighting. Joo Jaekyung, trained relentlessly since youth, embodies this world’s harshness, where vulnerability is a luxury rarely afforded.
(chapter 59) suggests that Joo Jaekyung might reclaim his authentic self through activities like swimming, reconnecting with nature, and symbolically planting the seeds for a new life. Kim Dan, who cannot swim, learns from Joo Jaekyung, and together, they forge a path toward mutual healing and immortality—not in the literal sense but through finding their “soul” and purpose.
(chapter 58), but this assumption reveals their failure to truly understand Kim Dan’s plight. Their ignorance ties them to the selfishness and guilt that mark the couple in the fairy tale. Despite their faults, however, their actions indirectly contribute to Kim Dan’s transformation.
(chapter 59) finding light not in others but within himself. Through his hardships, he gains the strength to pursue his own identity and agency.
(chapter 49) The maknae’s tears are an indication that he is no mermaid, but a human, I would even say, he still has the soul of an innocent boy. 
(chapter 58) reminding me of the princess looking for the voiceless mermaid. It is clear that in both stories, the mermaid left traces in the humans’ hearts. 
Bebebisous33s' analyses in K-Dramaland and Manhwas 