Jinx: Hot 🔥Sparks ⚡, Feverish 🌡️Reality (part 2)

After the Spark: What Changes Once the Circuit Is Closed?

When episode 86 ends (chapter 86), it does not close the night through narrative resolution. There is no statement, no promise, no verbal seal. And yet, for many Jinx-philes, the final panel refuses to let the scene dissolve. What remains is not heat, not tension, not even tenderness — but circulation.

What caught my attention, on rereading the episode with some distance, is precisely this ending. In the final embrace and kiss, bodies are not merely touching; they are aligned. Kim Dan is neither collapsed nor clinging. Joo Jaekyung is neither looming nor enclosing. Their torsos meet without compression, their heads incline toward each other, and the kiss does not interrupt movement — it completes it. The image does not suggest release, but continuity. Not dispersal, but return. In other words, the final embrace functions as a closed electric circuit, while the kiss operates as the activating spark — not a release, but the moment the current begins to flow.

This detail matters because it reframes the entire night. Earlier nights in Jinx burned intensely and then vanished. This one does not. Heat exhausts itself. Electricity does not. It remains as potential — stored, latent, waiting to be activated. When readers feel that “something has shifted,” they are not sensing emotional climax, but a closed circuit. The night ends, yet nothing needs to be said, because something has already been set.

Under this new light, my perception of relationships in Jinx changed. What had long been read through the language of excess — desire, domination, sacrifice, endurance — began to appear instead through the logic of current: circulation, interruption (chapter 21), overload (chapter 33), short circuit (chapter 51), (chapter 53) reset. And once that lens is adopted, it becomes impossible to limit the consequences of episode 86 to the couple alone. Because a closed circuit does not only affect those directly connected to it. It alters the surrounding system.

In the first part of Hot Sparks, Feverish Reality, the focus lay on how this night functions in itself: how electricity replaces fire, how illusion gives way to continuity, how silence becomes embodied communication. That analysis allowed us to rethink the nature of the moment. But once the circuit is closed, another question inevitably arises — quieter, but far more consequential: What changes once the night is over?

If the Paris night is not a dream, not a relapse, and not a miracle, then it must be understood as a reconfiguration of conditions. Memory begins to behave differently. Surprise no longer carries the same meaning. The past can no longer be invoked automatically as justification. And responsibility — long deferred — becomes unavoidable.

This second part of the essay therefore turns toward repercussions. To approach them, the analysis will move through four interlinked angles. First, it will examine surprise, returning to the sudden kiss in episode 86. By placing this gesture alongside earlier moments where surprise meant threat or emotional risk, the essay will show how the same structure acquires a different meaning once agency is restored — and why this matters. Second, it will address recognition without erasure, focusing on the line (chapter 86). This section will explore how acknowledging change without denying past harm opens a new ethical position — one that prevents memory from being weaponized, while still preserving responsibility. Third, the analysis will turn to conversion, revisiting earlier nights marked by failure, asymmetry, and isolation. Rather than cancelling them, episode 86 absorbs and transforms them. This is where forgiveness, reflection, and the first true encounter with consequence quietly enter the narrative. Finally, a new section will widen the lens further by examining shared experience and memory (chapter 53), particularly through Kim Dan’s relationship with his grandmother. Here, the focus will not be accusation, but contrast: between memories carried alone and memories held together; between cycles of repetition and moments of presence; between a worldview structured around endurance and one shaped by circulation. The Paris night does not only affect how Kim Dan sees Joo Jaekyung (chapter 86) — it changes how he may begin to situate himself within inherited bonds and unspoken expectations.

The Paris night did not resolve the story. It changed the system in which the story must now continue. And like electricity itself, its importance will only become fully visible when something — or someone — can no longer function as before.

Surprise Reversed: From Threat to Agency

To understand why the kiss in episode 86 (chapter 86) carries such weight, we must return to the origin of kissing itself in Jinx. Because surprise, in this story, is not an abstract theme. It has a history. And that history begins with a body being caught off guard.

The first time Kim Dan is kissed by Joo Jaekyung, it is sudden. (chapter 14) There is no warning, no verbal cue, no time to prepare. The kiss arrives as interruption. It is not negotiated; it is imposed. Hence the author focused on the champion’s hand just before the smooch. This moment matters far more than it initially appears, because it establishes the template through which Kim Dan first encounters intimacy. (chapter 15) Affection does not emerge gradually. It breaks in.

Kim Dan reacts accordingly. Shortly afterward, he articulates a need that is easy to overlook but fundamentally revealing: he asks Joo Jaekyung to tell him before kissing him. (chapter 15) He needs preparation. He needs time to brace himself emotionally. This request reveals two aspects. First, he connects a kiss with love. On the other hand, the request is not really about romance; it is rather about survival. Surprise, for Kim Dan, has already been coded as something that overwhelms the body before the mind can intervene.

And yet, what follows is one of the most striking contradictions in the narrative. Every time Kim Dan initiates a kiss himself (chapter 39), he violates his own request.

His kisses arrive suddenly. (chapter 39) They are unannounced, often landing on unusual places (cheek or ear) (chapter 39) (chapter 44). They often take place under asymmetrical conditions — when one of them is intoxicated, confused, or emotionally exposed. Sometimes they occur without full consent, sometimes without clarity. In chapters 39 and 44, kisses surface precisely when language fails or consciousness fractures. It is as if Kim Dan has internalized a rule he never chose: a kiss must be sudden. Observe how the champion replies to the doctor’s smile and laugh: he kissed him, as if he was jealous of his happiness. (chapter 44) That’s how I came to realize that the kiss in the Manhwa is strongly intertwined with “surprise”. This is the missing link.

Kim Dan does not merely endure surprise; he learns it. Because intimacy entered his life through interruption (chapter 2), he comes to reproduce interruption as intimacy. He knows that surprise destabilizes him — that is why he asked for warning — but he has no other model. What overwhelms him also becomes what he reaches for. Surprise is both threat and language.

This paradox explains much of Season 1. Surprise is repeatedly associated with danger (chapter 3): the sudden call from the athlete, (chapter 1), the offer of sex in exchange for money (chapter 3), the contract that turns availability into obligation (chapter 6), the switched spray (chapter 49), the sudden changes in rules. These moments strip Kim Dan of anticipation and agency. His body reacts before his will can engage. Surprise equals exposure.

And yet — this is where the narrative becomes uncomfortable — these same surprises also pull him out of ghosthood.

Before Joo Jaekyung, Kim Dan lives in a state defined by repetition and duty. (chapter 1) His life is governed by “always”: always working, always returning, always responsible. He lives for his grandmother. Nothing unexpected is allowed to happen, because nothing unexpected can be afforded. This is safety through stasis. Presence without experience.

But this does not mean that surprise was absent from his past. On the contrary, when unpredictability did enter Kim Dan’s life earlier, it came in its most destructive form: through the loan shark, Heo Manwook and his minions. His appearances were sudden, intrusive, violent. (chapter 5) (chapter 1) They shattered routine rather than enriching it. Surprise, in that context, did not open possibility; it threatened survival. It meant debt, coercion, fear. And precisely because of that, it could not be integrated into memory as experience — only repressed as trauma.

This distinction matters. When Kim Dan’s grandmother is hospitalized and removed from the house, the loan shark also disappears from daily life. His violence becomes something that can be pushed aside, denied, or avoided (chapter 1), if he doesn’t return home. Surprise, in its earlier form, is excised from the household. What remains is a world of repetition and endurance — safer, but lifeless.

Seen from this angle, Joo Jaekyung does not introduce unpredictability into Kim Dan’s life from nothing. He replaces it. (chapter 2) but in a fundamentally different form.

The loan shark embodies surprise without negotiation. (chapter 11) (chapter 11) His appearances are sudden, his demands non-discussable, his violence immediate. He does not ask; he enforces. Surprise, under his rule, eliminates speech. It leaves no space for argument, no room for clarification, no possibility of consent. One endures, or one is punished.

Joo Jaekyung, by contrast, introduces unpredictability through contracts and negotiation. (chapter 6) Even when power is asymmetrical, even when the terms are coercive, speech is required. Conditions are stated. Rules are articulated. Kim Dan is forced to listen, to answer, to argue, to object. He must speak.

This difference is decisive. Surprise no longer arrives solely as terror; it arrives as confrontation. Kim Dan is not merely acted upon — he is compelled into dialogue. The body is still exposed, but language re-enters the scene. Where the loan shark silenced, the athlete imposes discussion.

This is why Joo Jaekyung can occupy the same structural position as the loan shark — and yet not replicate him. Both disrupt repetition. Both break the closed circuit of endurance. But only one does so in a way that keeps Kim Dan within the realm of human interaction. Even coercive negotiation presupposes a subject who can respond.

This also explains the later confrontation in the house. (chapter 17) The two figures cannot coexist because they represent mutually exclusive regimes of surprise: one that annihilates speech, and one that forces it into being. In other words, only one allows experience to be lived rather than survived.

Surprise enters Kim Dan’s life violently, but it does not remain mere rupture. (chapter 2) It functions as negative charge — an abrupt influx of energy into a system that had been closed for too long. Fear, anger, desire, attachment appear not as orderly developments, but as shocks. These experiences are unstable, often painful, sometimes destructive (chapter 51) — yet they are unmistakably his. They mark the moment when something begins to circulate. (chapter 51)

This distinction is crucial. Before Joo Jaekyung, Kim Dan’s life operated in a static loop, governed by repetition, sacrifice, and gratitude. Energy was expended, but never transformed. Surprise, in its first incarnation, is therefore pure threat: uncontained, overwhelming, incapable of integration. It breaks the system without yet allowing current to flow.

What changes with Joo Jaekyung is not the presence of danger, but its conductivity. Surprise becomes ambivalent — still risky, still destabilizing — but now capable of generating movement and as such meditation. Negative charge no longer annihilates the circuit; it begins to activate it. (chapter 27) Experiences accumulate instead of disappearing. They demand response, speech, negotiation. Life no longer consists in enduring impact, but in processing it.

This is why these experiences cannot be shared with Kim Dan’s grandmother. Her moral economy is built on infantilization (chapter 65) and as such neutralization: suffering must be absorbed, pain must be justified, disruption must be folded back into endurance. There is no place for charge there — only for dissipation. What Kim Dan lives through with Joo Jaekyung follows a different logic altogether: not sacrifice, but circulation; not repetition, but conversion.

Surprise thus becomes the hinge not between danger and safety, but between static survival (–) and relational movement (+). And once that conversion begins, the past can no longer be returned unchanged — nor can it be shared without transformation.

This is why Kim Dan falls in love (chapter 41) not despite surprise, but through it. Not because harm is romanticized, but because surprise is the first force that treats him as someone to whom things can happen. Even negative experiences generate subjectivity. They prove that he exists beyond function.

Seen through this lens, Kim Dan’s habit of surprising Joo Jaekyung with kisses (chapter 39) — on the ear or the cheek — is no longer random or contradictory. It is learned behavior. He has absorbed surprise as a mode of relation. What was once done to him becomes something he does, imperfectly and often prematurely. These kisses are not about dominance. They do not corner or silence. They test connection. They ask, without words: Are you still here?

But until episode 86, this structure remains unresolved. Surprise exists, but it is never fully safe. (chapter 85) Kim Dan either endures it or reproduces it under unstable conditions. Agency is partial. Meaning collapses afterward.

This is what makes the doctor’s kiss in Paris categorically different. (chapter 86)

Formally, it is still sudden. Kim Dan does not announce it. He does not negotiate it verbally. But structurally, everything has changed. For the first time, surprise is not imposed on him — and it is not enacted from confusion or imbalance. It is chosen. Kim Dan is clear-minded enough to recognize both his desire and his uncertainty. He is not dissociating. He is not reacting. He is deciding to remain present despite risk. And the response confirms the shift.

Joo Jaekyung does not neutralize the kiss with passivity (chapter 39), irony (chapter 41) or rejection (chapter 55). He does not retreat into his habitual “it’s nothing” or “never mind.” He does not reinterpret the gesture as convenience or reflex. (chapter 86) He kisses back while looking tenderly at his partner. He holds Kim Dan’s head gently. He can only see such a gesture as a positive answer to his request: acceptance and even desire. Surprise is not punished. It is received.

This is the moment where the meaning of surprise reverses. Surprise no longer equals threat. Surprise becomes agency.

The kiss does not erase the past. It does not retroactively justify earlier violations. But it establishes a new condition: surprise can now occur without annihilation. Intimacy can arrive without silencing reflection. Experience no longer collapses into shame or disappearance.

This is why the kiss matters more than any spoken line in the episode. It is not simply romantic. It is structural evidence that the logic governing their interactions has changed. Surprise now operates within a closed circuit of consent and presence.

Kim Dan is no longer a ghost enduring interruptions. He is a subject capable of initiating them. He has learned surprise — and now, for the first time, he reclaims it. Under this new condition, the question is no longer whether surprise will hurt. It is whether life can proceed without it. And once that question is raised, the story cannot return to repetition or silence.

Recognition Without Erasure: When Memory Changes Function

What struck me next was how subtly episode 86 reorganizes the role of the past. Once surprise ceases to function purely as threat and begins to circulate, memory itself starts behaving differently. Electricity does not only move bodies; it redistributes charge. And it is precisely at this level — the level of memory and recognition — that something decisive occurs.

The line is brief, almost casual: (chapter 86) And yet it performs an extraordinary operation. Kim Dan does not deny the past. He does not soften it. He does not excuse it. Instead, he repositions it. For the first time, the past is no longer invoked as an absolute reference point, but as a differentiated state — one phase among others. Such a confession contradicts the grandmother’s philosophy: ALWAYS (chapter 65) In her eyes, she has never changed, just like her grandson. (chapter 65) If there were changes, they were associated with trouble and worries.

This distinction is crucial, because in Jinx, the past has long functioned like a blunt instrument. It has been used to fix identities (chapter 52), justify behavior (chapter 57), and foreclose change. The champion’s violence is explained through reputation. (chapter 1) Kim Dan’s endurance is explained through obedience and debt. The grandmother’s authority is explained through sacrifice. In every case, the same logic applies: this is how it has always been; therefore this is how it must remain.

That logic is static. Electrically speaking, it is a circuit without polarity — no – and +, no tension, no movement. The past becomes a dead weight, not a source of information. It does not inform the present; it dominates it.

What episode 86 introduces is not forgiveness in the sentimental sense, but recognition without erasure. (chapter 86) Recognition means the charge of the past remains. Erasure would mean grounding it, neutralizing it, pretending it never existed. Kim Dan does neither. He keeps the – while allowing the + to emerge.

A World Without Polarity: When the Past Becomes a Weapon

This is where the electrical metaphor becomes indispensable. In a functioning circuit, negative and positive do not cancel each other out. They coexist. They create potential difference. And it is that difference — not harmony — that allows current to flow. (chapter 86) In the final panels, Kim Dan does not embrace an idealized version of the champion, nor a redeemed figure cleansed of history. He embraces Joo Jaekyung as he is now, with the knowledge of who he was before. This distinction matters. Acceptance here is not absolution. It is contact without denial.

Electric current does not pass between identical charges. It requires tension. Polarity. Resistance. The − and the + must remain distinct, or nothing moves. In this sense, Kim Dan’s embrace is not a gesture of harmony but of recognition. He acknowledges the champion’s flaws and mistakes — not to excuse them, but to stop pretending to be better or to stop pretending they never existed. What he accepts is not the past itself, but the reality that the past does not exhaust the present. That’s why he is able to stop ruminating and to follow his heart.

Furthermore when Kim Dan recognizes that “the old him” (chapter 86) existed, he does not collapse the timeline. He does not say: he was never that person. Nor does he say: he is forever that person. Instead, he introduces temporal polarity. Then and now. Before and after. – and +.

This move has immediate consequences. First, it disarms the past as a weapon. (chapter 65) If the past is absolute, it can be endlessly invoked to invalidate the present. We have a perfect example on the beach. (chapter 65) Kim Dan is here compared to the past. (chapter 65) When Shin Okja speaks of Kim Dan as a heavy smoker, she is not recounting a neutral habit. She is anchoring him to a past version of himself — one defined through worry, decline, and deviation from the “good boy” image.

What follows is telling. She does not ask why he smoked. She does not ask what changed. She does not ask how he lived. The only question that matters to her is: “Does he still smoke?” (chapter 65)

The present is interrogated exclusively through the past. In this logic, the past functions as a fixed reference point. If the habit persists, the present confirms her narrative. If it does not, the absence is not read as growth but as an anomaly — something provisional, something that could always return. This is not concern. It is classification.

Shin Okja does not relate to Kim Dan as someone moving through phases, but as someone who must remain legible within a stable moral category. Change is not interpreted as development, but as risk. When Shin Okja repeatedly frames Kim Dan’s smoking and drinking as failures (chapter 65), she is not simply expressing concern about health. She is doing something more consequential: she is disqualifying the legitimacy of his decisions. In her discourse, Kim Dan’s actions are never treated as choices made under pressure, pain, or circumstance. (chapter 65) They are evaluated exclusively through a moral lens. Smoking and drinking are not responses; they are flaws. And because they are framed as flaws, they retroactively define his character rather than his situation. This is where agency collapses.

Care and Choice

If every decision Kim Dan makes is already interpreted as “bad,” then decision-making itself becomes suspect. Choice is no longer a neutral capacity; it is something he is assumed to misuse. In other words, he is not someone who chooses poorly — he is someone who should not be choosing at all. Under this new light, my avid readers can grasp why the grandmother approached the champion and asked for this favor: (chapter 65) Her behavior does not contradict her claim that she wants Kim Dan to “live his own life.” (chapter 65) It reveals how she understands such a life should be arranged.

If she had truly accepted Kim Dan as a subject capable of self-direction, she would have spoken to him directly. Conversation presupposes agency; it allows disagreement, hesitation, and refusal. Instead, she chose a different route: influencing his fate behind his back. This move preserves her moral position while bypassing the risk of confrontation. It allows her to believe she is acting in his interest without ever having to acknowledge his will. That’s why she is entrusting her grandson to the athlete. (chapter 78)

In other words, she does not imagine Kim Dan living freely through his own choices, but being placed into a better configuration by others — preferably by someone stronger, more decisive, and more visible than himself. The request to the champion thus follows the same logic that governs her judgment of Kim Dan’s habits: she does not trust him to choose, only to comply.

And this is precisely why her worldview stands in quiet opposition to what unfolds in episode 86. The physical therapist’s desires are not only acknowledged, but also respected. (chapter 86) Once again, the “hamster” is given the opportunity not only to decide, but also to follow his heart. Where the Paris night allows difference to coexist with memory, Shin Okja’s framework collapses difference back into judgment. Where electricity requires polarity, her logic insists on sameness. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible how doc Dan came to neglect himself. Self-care is inseparable from choice — from the belief that one’s decisions can meaningfully alter the present. If change is denied, care loses its purpose. Attending to oneself becomes optional, even suspect, because it implies a future different from the one already prescribed.

Recognition without erasure breaks that pattern. It allows Kim Dan to say, implicitly: what happened matters — but it does not get to decide everything.

Second, this recognition introduces responsibility where there was previously only fatalism. If change is possible, then it can be acknowledged. And if it can be acknowledged, it can be responded to. The past no longer excuses inaction. It no longer absolves neglect. It becomes a reference, not a refuge.

Two Versions, One Person: Temporal Polarity and Ethical Clarity

By acknowledging that there is an “old him” (chapter 86) and a present one, Kim Dan implicitly accepts that change has causes. And this is where his position shifts in a way that is easy to miss. If Joo Jaekyung has changed, then Kim Dan is not obligated to assume that he is the reason. He does not interpret the change as something he must earn or preserve through obedience.

Instead, a question becomes possible: what happened in between? And this question matters, because Kim Dan does not know. He does not know about the incident at the health center. He does not know about the slap at the hospital (chapter 52). He does not know that no one stood by the champion afterward — not even Potato.

By recognizing two versions of Joo Jaekyung, Kim Dan opens a space for inquiry rather than self-accusation. The change no longer needs to be attributed to his own sacrifice. It can be understood as something that also happened to the champion. This is not naivety. It is ethical clarity. Consequently, I perceive the night in Paris as the end of doc Dan’s low self-esteem and shame.

It also means that if anyone were to invoke the champion’s past against him — a manager, a coach (chapter 57), the system — Kim Dan can now side with him without denying what came before. The past stops being a weapon. It becomes context. This move has immediate consequences.

This shift is subtle, but it radiates outward.

Until now, Kim Dan has often carried memory alone. He remembers nights that others forget. He remembers moments that were dismissed. This asymmetry has turned memory into burden. (chapter 44) The one who remembers bears the – alone, while the other continues forward unmarked. That imbalance is corrosive. It distorts perception. It turns even good memories sour.

Episode 86 begins to redistribute that charge. Not by forcing confession, but by establishing shared presence. Once current circulates between two points, no single node carries the full load. Recognition does not mean recounting every wound; it means no longer isolating the wound in silence.

This is why the line about “the old him” matters more than it appears. It is not merely observational. It is infrastructural. It signals that memory is no longer trapped in a single body.

And this logic does not stop with the champion. It extends, inevitably, to Kim Dan’s relationship with his grandmother, like mentioned above.

Her worldview has long been organized around moral continuity. She remembers suffering (chapter 65), but she remembers it in a way that flattens time. Pain becomes proof of virtue. Sacrifice becomes identity. (chapter 65) Change is allowed only insofar as it returns to the same point. Electrically speaking, her system is grounded — all charge dissipates into endurance. There is no polarity, only repetition.

This is why the past, in her discourse, often appears as reproach. Not necessarily spoken harshly, but structurally unavoidable. You used to drink. You used to smoke. You used to be helpless. The past is not cited to understand, but to fix position. It anchors Kim Dan to a role: the one who must be protected, managed, or sent away “for his own good.”

Recognition without erasure offers Kim Dan a way out of this bind. If the past is no longer absolute, then it can be questioned. Not denied — questioned. The statement “you don’t know me and my life” becomes thinkable. Not as rebellion, but as differentiation. Kim Dan can hold the memory of his past while refusing to let it define his present. He can acknowledge the grandmother’s suffering without allowing it to dictate his future.

This is where forgiveness enters the narrative — quietly, without ceremony. (chapter 86) Forgiveness here is not reconciliation. It is not forgetting. It is not moral absolution. It is the decision not to collapse polarity. To allow – and + to coexist without forcing resolution. Forgiveness becomes a form of electrical insulation: it prevents overload, not by cutting the circuit, but by stabilizing it.

Seen this way, forgiveness is not weakness. It is structural maturity. And it has consequences. For Kim Dan, it means the past no longer monopolizes his self-understanding. He is not bound to prove gratitude through self-erasure. He can recognize care without submitting to control. He can accept gifts and help without dissolving into debt.

From Spark to Current: Why the Jinx Loses Its Power

For Joo Jaekyung, it means the jinx can no longer function as fatal explanation. (chapter 65) Even though the word jinx is never spoken during the Paris night, its logic quietly collapses there. (chapter 86)

Until now, sex operated as discharge. (chapter 75) In chapter 75, it is explicitly framed as a way to “clear the head”: an act designed to release pressure and return the system to zero. Partners were interchangeable. Feelings were excluded. Electricity existed only as a spark — brief, violent, and self-extinguishing. Energy was expelled, not circulated. That is the true mechanics of the jinx: power without continuity, intensity without consequence.

Paris introduces a different configuration. Sex is no longer oriented toward erasure or reset. It is no longer about escaping thought or silencing memory. Instead, it becomes a mode of presence. (chapter 85) Desires matter, not the match the next morning. Besides, the identity of the partner matters — not just romantically, but also structurally. Current requires two poles. It requires response. It cannot flow through an object, only between 2 subjects.

This is why the jinx does not need to be confronted explicitly to be undone. A system built on discharge cannot survive circulation. Once energy is no longer expelled but sustained, once tension is held rather than neutralized, fatalism loses its grip. The spark does not burn out; it becomes current.

And with current comes consequence. Sex no longer clears the mind; it sharpens awareness. It no longer abolishes the future; it implies one. What happens in Paris does not redeem the past — it renders repetition impossible. Reflection becomes unavoidable, not because someone demands it, but because the system no longer resets cleanly.

The jinx dissolves not through force, but through continuity. Recognition without erasure thus prepares the ground for the final transformation: conversion. Thus the story can move forward.

– and – = + : Conversion and the End of Ghosthood

Two nights once marked by failure — chapter 39 (chapter 39) and chapter 44 (chapter 44) — converge in episode 86. This convergence is not coincidental, nor is it nostalgic. It is a conversion.

Both earlier nights shared the same fatal structure: only one person remembered. In chapter 39, Kim Dan’s confession existed without continuity; his body spoke, but his memory did not follow. In chapter 44, the reverse occurred: Kim Dan remembered everything, while Joo Jaekyung attempted to forget. In both cases, memory became asymmetrical. One carried meaning; the other escaped it. And meaning, when carried alone, curdles. What might have been tenderness transformed into obsession, shame, or bitterness. Memory became burden.

Episode 86 breaks this curse through a gesture that is deceptively simple: both remember. (chapter 86) Both made surprising experiences: dry orgasm and a gentle and caring sex partner.

This is why simultaneity matters so profoundly. Sparks appear on both bodies. Confusion is mutual. Questions circulate rather than collapse inward. Neither consciousness outruns the other. Time, which had previously fractured under intoxication, coercion, or denial, resumes its flow. Not because the past is resolved, but because it is finally shared. Shared experience.

Here, memory begins to function differently — no longer as fixation or haunting, but as integration.

This shift allows us to recognize a much older pattern in Kim Dan’s inner life. His relationship to memory has always been selective, but not arbitrarily so. When it comes to his grandmother, Kim Dan remembers each interaction with his grandmother in a positive light: the warmth (chapter 11), the care – even if he had hurt himself – (chapter 47), the shared smiles (chapter 47). Thus this photograph (chapter 65) becomes a talisman — not a record of reality, but a distilled image of safety. Painful dimensions are filtered out. Conflict, coercion, and silent pressure recede into the background. Memory protects him by idealizing. Because of this picture, he projected himself in the future, making unrealistic plans. (chapter 47) It was, as if he only had good times with his grandmother.

Shin Okja, by contrast, remembers the same past through a radically different lens. (chapter 65) Her recollection is saturated with pity, loss, fear (chapter 65), and blame (chapter 65). The vanishing of the parents becomes the gravitational center around which all other memories orbit. Where Kim Dan remembers warmth, she remembers danger. Where he remembers protection, she remembers failure. One memory soothes; the other hardens. One preserves life; the other polices it. Kim Dan must remain the “good boy,” unchanged, because acknowledging his growth would mean acknowledging that the past did not remain intact.

The graduation photos make this painfully clear. They immortalize achievements, (chapter 47) not shared experiences. They resemble press photos of the champion more than lived moments. The work, the strain, the cost are absent. And tellingly, Kim Dan does not keep these pictures. They do not anchor memory; they flatten it. They freeze time rather than allowing it to move.

This asymmetry is crucial. It reveals that the relationship between Kim Dan and his grandmother has always mirrored the structure of those failed nights: one person remembers in a way that helps to keep working, the other remembers in a way that poisons (infantilizing doc Dan). One idealizes; the other condemns. And because the tragedy at the center of their past was never fully spoken, memory could not be synchronized. Kim Dan was pushed — silently, indirectly — to carry an idealized version of their shared life, while Shin Okja carried the unresolved catastrophe alone. (chapter 65) Toxic positivity emerges precisely here: not as cheerfulness, but as enforced idealization that denies the legitimacy of pain, anger, or differentiation.

And it is precisely here that the connection with the grandmother crystallizes. The latter is often connected to sleep (chapter 21) (chapter 47) and memories. (chapter 21) (chapter 65). While sleeping, memories come to the surface.

Only at this point did something else catch my attention — something that, retrospectively, had been present all along. The painting in the living room: (chapter 85) I believe that its appearance it does not function as decoration. Its imagery — figures suspended among clouds, bodies neither falling nor grounded — introduces a different register of time. Not urgency. Not performance. Not spectacle. Stillness. Interval. A space where movement pauses without collapsing. Under this new light, the reference is Morpheus.

Morpheus is not the god of illusion. He is the one who allows rest, who brings form to dreams so the body can sleep. His presence signals not escape from reality, but the possibility of restorative sleep. This matters, because insomnia has haunted Joo Jaekyung from the beginning. (chapter 75) Until now, rest had been replaced by discharge: sex as erasure, violence as exhaustion, ritual as compulsion. The Paris night does not abolish wakefulness through collapse; it introduces the conditions under which sleep might finally be possible.

Episode 86 introduces a third possibility. The Paris night does not ask either character to idealize or to condemn. (chapter 86) It does not demand that the past be redeemed, nor that it be endlessly rehearsed. (chapter 86) Instead, it contextualizes. Memory is no longer absolute; it becomes temporal. Then and now. (chapter 86) Before and after. – and +.

This is why the electrical metaphor reaches its full force here. Two negatives do not annihilate each other. They convert. The shared remembering of two previously failed nights produces not cancellation, but potential. (chapter 86) The charge redistributes. Memory ceases to isolate and begins to circulate.

It is at this point that Prometheus quietly enters the scene — not as explicit mythological references, but as symbolic functions. Electricity, like fire stolen from the gods, marks a return to humanity. It is the end of purely divine punishment and purely mechanical survival. At the same time, illusion dissolves. Sleep, dream, and dissociation lose their grip. The characters are no longer ghosts moving through each other’s lives, nor zombies repeating ritualized behaviors. They become human again — vulnerable, reflective, embodied. And once human, reflection becomes inevitable.

The night itself remains carpe diem. It is presence without calculation, sensation without projection, intimacy without bargaining. For those hours, the future does not intrude. But this does not mean consequence is erased. On the contrary: because the night is no longer an illusion, its aftermath must be faced. The jinx has not disappeared because its existence was not mentioned or danger is gone. Corruption, rigged matches, replacement, and blacklisting still await. What has changed is not the external threat, but the internal configuration.

The Paris night did not save the protagonists. It returned them to themselves. And this return has consequences beyond the couple. It destabilizes the grandmother’s moral economy. This new observation reinforces my previous interpretation: this position (chapter 86) was a reflection of the picture. (chapter 65) Shin Okja is no longer doc Dan’s center of gravitation. That’s the real revolution. There is no longer interruption or triangulation. I am even inclined to think, that’s the night where the main leads became a true team.

Moreover, if memory can be shared without collapsing into blame, then her version of the past can no longer function as unquestionable authority. (chapter 65) If Kim Dan no longer needs to idealize in order to survive, then he can finally see the cost of that idealization — for himself and for her. The tragedy she alone has been carrying can surface, but without demanding that he sacrifices his present to it. The past stops being a sealed vault and becomes a shared, albeit painful, terrain.

This is the true end of ghosthood. That’s why doc Dan is feeling feverish during that night. (chapter 86) No one is erased or reduced to an object. Nothing is overlooked or forgotten. But repetition loses its hold. And from here, the story can no longer proceed as before.

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

Jinx: Hot 🌶️ Sparks 🎇, Feverish 🌡️ Reality (part 1)

Introduction — Dream, Magic, or Something Else?

Many Jinx-lovers were genuinely happy watching how the champion interacted with Doc Dan during that night. He was caring (chapter 86), gentle, attentive (chapter 86) — asking questions instead of imposing answers (chapter 64). For Joo Jaekyung’s unconditional stans (and I count myself among them), such an attitude (chapter 86) can easily be read as proof that the protagonist’s good heart has always been existent, but it was barely visible. Compared to earlier chapters, the contrast is now undeniable. And yet, I would like to pause you right there.

Because focusing solely on the champion’s behavior risks missing the most decisive movement of this night. Joo Jaekyung’s transformation did not begin in episode 86. Long before that, he had already started changing — sometimes suddenly (chapter 61), sometimes awkwardly (chapter 80), sometimes inconsistently (chapter 79), but unmistakably . (chapter 83) Tenderness, concern, even a certain form of devotion had appeared earlier (chapter 40), albeit in ways that were often overlooked, (chapter 18) misunderstood or poorly timed. This night (chapter 86) does not initiate his metamorphosis.

So what, then, makes it feel so different?

When confronted with a night filled with stars (chapter 86), sparks (chapter 86), and softness, many Jinx-philes might instinctively describe it as magical. The imagery invites such a reading. After all, we have seen similar nights before. The night in the States shimmered with illusion (chapter 39); words were spoken, confessions made — only to dissolve with memory. (chapter 41) The penthouse night echoed A Midsummer Night’s Dream (chapter 44), suspended between intoxication and desire, intense yet fragile. Both nights felt unreal, and both were later reframed as mistakes (chapter 41) — moments to be erased rather than carried forward. (chapter 45). This raises an essential question. Is episode 86 (chapter 86) a renewal of those nights? Another dream layered over the past? A repetition disguised as healing? Or, on the contrary, is this the first night that resists enchantment altogether?

This question matters because in Jinx, nights are never judged by themselves. Their true meaning is revealed afterward — in the morning (chapter 4), in the return of light (chapter 66), in what remains once the sparks fade. A dream dissolves with daylight. Reality does not.

This is why it would be misleading to read episode 86 primarily as evidence of the champion’s improved behavior. Such a perspective encloses the night within its warmth and risks mistaking tenderness (chapter 86) for final transformation. The real shift occurs elsewhere — more quietly, and perhaps more unsettlingly. To grasp the nature of this night, we must follow more importantly the doctor and his interaction with his fated partner.

What changes here is not only what Joo Jaekyung does, but how Kim Dan perceives (chapter 86), processes, and responds to it. How he hesitates (chapter 86), reflects, and allows himself to reconsider what this moment can mean — and what it can lead to. (chapter 86) It is through this inner recalibration that we can begin to determine whether this night belongs to the realm of dream, repetition, or reality. Only by tracing the doctor’s perception can we understand what truly starts flowing here.

To approach this question, the analysis will move through several successive angles. It will begin with the symbolic and mythological references that frame episode 86, before turning to earlier nights that echo visually or emotionally within it. From there, attention will shift to forms of communication, considering how speech, silence, and gesture are arranged across these scenes. The analysis will then examine repeated actions and how their placement within the narrative differs from one moment to another. Only with such a progression can the nature of this night be reconsidered.

From Solar Heat to Electric Current

Many Jinx-lovers instinctively read episode 86 as a romantic turning point because the night looks “magical”: stars (chapter 86), sparks, that strange shimmer that seems to hang in the air (chapter 86). Why? It was, as if their dream had come true. However, is it correct? Is it not wishful thinking? What if this night is not magical at all? What if its true signature is not enchantment, but electricity—a current that interrupts, tests, and resets? 😮

To grasp this, we must first return to the symbolic regime that used to govern the champion’s presence. In earlier chapters (think of the awe and distance around chapters 40–41 and again later), Joo Jaekyung often appears as a solar figure (chapter 40) in Kim Dan’s perception: overwhelming, radiant, dominant, a heat-source that does not negotiate. (chapter 41) The sun can be admired, feared, and endured—but it cannot be questioned. (chapter 58) It simply shines, and the one who stands in its light adapts. This explicates why the physical therapist would choose silence and submission over communication. (chapter 48)

The Invisible Energy

Nevertheless, the excursion in episode 83 and 84 begins to dismantle this solar grammar, though at the time, its meaning is easy to miss. (chapter 83)

The shift away from solar symbolism does not announce itself loudly. It is embedded in the setting itself, almost too obvious to be noticed. An amusement park functions entirely on electricity. (chapter 83) Every ride, every light, every scream suspended in midair depends on current: motors accelerating and braking, circuits opening and closing, energy stored, released, and cut off. (chapter 83) Roller coasters do not move by heat, charisma, or sheer physical force; they move because electricity flows through them. The Viking ship swings (chapter 83) because current allows it to swing. The Ferris wheel ascends (chapter 83) because circuits hold — and descends because they release.

And yet, precisely because this energy is expected, it becomes invisible.

Neither the characters nor most Jinx-philes initially register electricity as a symbol. It is too familiar, too infrastructural. Electricity does all the work, but it remains background noise. This invisibility is not accidental. Unlike the sun — which imposes itself visually, hierarchically, almost tyrannically — electricity operates silently, relationally, conditionally. It does not dominate the scene; it enables it. It exists only as long as connections hold.

When Electricity Fails

This distinction matters, because electricity only becomes perceptible when it fails. (chapter 84)

The Ferris wheel breakdown in episode 84 is therefore not a minor technical inconvenience but a crucial narrative rupture. The moment the current cuts out, movement stops. Height becomes dangerous. Time suspends. Panic enters the frame. The announcement that “the earlier technical issues have been resolved” (chapter 84) explicitly names what had previously gone unspoken: the rides function only because current flows. When it disappears, the illusion of effortless motion collapses.

And it is precisely at this moment — when artificial motion halts — that Joo Jaekyung becomes active in an unexpected way. (chapter 84) The Ferris wheel has stopped. The current is gone. The carefully regulated system that lifted, rotated, and sustained them is no longer in control. Yet movement does not disappear entirely. It mutates. When the champion shifts his weight, grips the structure, reacts instinctively, the cabin begins to shake. Panels emphasize instability: creak, swish, ack. The motion is no longer generated by electricity but by the body itself.

This moment is crucial. The shaking exposes a hierarchy reversal. Human strength now surpasses mechanical control. The ride no longer dictates sensation; the occupant does. And this excess of physical force — uncontrolled, unmediated — becomes unsettling rather than triumphant. Kim Dan immediately responds by asking him to sit down, to stop moving, to restore balance. Stillness, not action, becomes the condition for safety.

From Motion to Speech

What follows is telling. Deprived of the park’s mechanical rhythm, Joo Jaekyung does not compensate by acting more. He compensates by speaking. (chapter 84) Stranded above ground, stripped of the park’s mechanical rhythm, he apologizes. (chapter 84) Not theatrically, not performatively, but awkwardly, haltingly. His body exposes his discomfort (chapter 84) and fears. He avoids the doctor’s gaze, crosses his arms (chapter 84) or squeezes his arm (chapter 84). The cessation of electrical motion coincides with a shift in his own mode of action. Where the park depended on current to keep things moving, he now moves without it. The absence of electricity forces something else to surface: responsibility, attention, presence. Additionally, this sequence anticipates what will later unfold more fully. Proactivity is no longer expressed through force or motion, but through articulation. Words stand for action and have weight. The champion’s future action is announced here, quietly: he will no longer push forward by shaking the structure. He will move by sharing thought, by naming feeling, by allowing himself to be affected.

The interruption of electricity does not merely stop the ride. It forces a change in how agency is exercised. Under this new light, my avid readers can grasp the true life lesson the athlete received at the amusement park, the importance of communication and attentiveness.

As a first conclusion, the amusement park juxtaposes two forms of energy: mechanical electricity and human vitality. The first is regulated, automated, predictable — until it fails. The second is volatile, embodied, responsive. When the Ferris wheel stops, the mechanical system collapses, and a different kind of current emerges: emotional, relational, biological.

Yet, only in retrospect does this moment reveal its deeper logic. I am quite certain my followers are wondering how I came to pay attention to electricity which led to new observations and interpretations. It is related to the “electrical night” in the hotel!

Electricity and Sex

What strikes immediately in episode 86 is not tenderness, nor explicit care, nor even novelty of behavior — but density. The night is saturated with sparks (chapter 86), (chapter 86) jolts, sudden contractions of the body (chapter 86). Kim Dan is repeatedly shown convulsing, gasping, losing linear thought, and it is the same for the MMA fighter. Panels insist on interruption: jolt, tingle, broken breath, aborted sentences. The doctor’s body behaves as if struck, especially in this image. (chapter 86) It is at this point that a phrase surfaced in my mind — instinctively, almost involuntarily. A phrase we use in French when something intangible yet decisive occurs between two people: Le courant passe. Literally, the current passes. Idiomatic meaning: they are on the same wavelength, something connects, communication flows. However, here, the current is not the product of civilization, but of nature. Two people interacting with each other. And it is precisely because of the unusually high frequency of sparks and jolts in the illustrations that a belated realization imposes itself: nature, too, produces electricity — through storms, through thunder.

Joo Jaekyung’s Day and the Thunder

This raises a necessary question: where was the thunder before, as Jinx is working like a kaleidoscope?

One might be tempted to point to episode 69. (chapter 69) A storm was announced back then. And yet, upon closer inspection, no thunder was ever shown there. There was tension, there was excess, there were dark clouds (chapter 69) — but there was no strike, no discharge, no interruption. The imagery remained continuous, fluid, enclosed within the logic of escalation rather than rupture.

The thunder appears in the amusement park. 😮 One detail initially seems insignificant, almost too mundane to merit attention: the day itself.

The excursion in episodes 83–84 takes place on a Thursday. At first glance, this appears to be nothing more than a scheduling detail. And yet, Thursday is not a neutral day. Linguistically and mythologically, it carries a charge. Thursday is Thor’s day. This latent mythology quietly materializes through two objects, the drakkar (Viking boat) (chapter 83) and the hammer (chapter 83). In Roman terms, Thursday corresponds to dies Iovis — Jupiter’s day — the god of thunder. Both gods are strongly connected to thunder and as such current.

The narrative does not underline this fact. It does not name the god, invoke mythology, or frame the excursion as symbolic. The reference remains dormant. But dormancy is not absence. It is latency. This is where the symbolism stops being latent and becomes functional.

The reference to Thor and Jupiter (which was already palpable in earlier episodes -chapter 67-; for more read my analysis Star-crossed lovers 🌕) is not decorative mythology; it introduces a dual model of power that the narrative begins to test on Joo Jaekyung himself. Thor (chapter 83) is the son: impulsive, embodied, excessive, a god who discharges energy through impact. Jupiter, by contrast, is the father (chapter 83): regulating, sovereign, stabilizing, the god who governs the sky rather than striking it. Thunder belongs to both, but it manifests differently depending on position in the lineage. What matters is not which god the champion “is,” but that he oscillates between them. This oscillation becomes legible through the hammer.

The hammer game appears after the champion’s moment of physical discomfort and jealousy. (chapter 83). Before striking anything, he is already unwell: angry overstimulated and complaining, visually reduced to a childlike register. This matters. The hammer does not create excess — it receives it. (chapter 83) It offers a sanctioned outlet for surplus energy that has nowhere else to go. However, contrary to the past, the physical therapist becomes the beneficiary of the athlete’s greed and jealousy. He receives a teddy bear. The hamster doesn’t witness the punching incident, he only sees the result: care and affection. (chapter 83)

Unlike boxing, unlike punching a sandbag (chapter 34), the hammer gesture is not confrontational, for the machine is immobile. There is no opponent. (chapter 83) The arm rises and comes down. The movement is vertical, not horizontal. It does not engage another body; it obliterates resistance. This is not combat but discharge.

In that moment, Joo Jaekyung performs Thor. Not metaphorically, but structurally. He channels excess into a single, downward strike. The absurd score — 999 — is not triumph; it is overload. (chapter 83) Too much energy released at once. The system registers it, but cannot contain it. This means, the record won’t be registered and as such “remembered”. In fact what mattered here was the prize, the teddy bear, and restored self-esteem of the athlete. He could offer a present to doc Dan which the latter accepted without any resistance. (chapter 83) The pink heart indicates the presence of affection and gratitude. And crucially, this act restores balance. After the hammer, the champion is no longer visibly overwhelmed. He has expelled what needed to leave. This shows that the champion is learning to manage his jealousy differently.

This prepares the next transition. Once the excess is discharged, he can shift position. The childlike Thor-state gives way to something else: regulation, provision, containment. This is where Jupiter enters — not as domination, but as adaptive authority. The same character who was dazed now intervenes calmly, mediates interaction, hands over the teddy bear, anticipates need. Son and father coexist not as contradiction, but as sequence.

This duality is essential for what follows. Because thunder is not continuous like the sun. It interrupts. It breaks a state, resets a system, and allows a new configuration to emerge. That is its narrative function here. This means that the athlete’s attitude can no longer be generalized, as such reproaches or description wouldn’t reflect reality. But let’s return our attention to the thunder causing a short circuit and reset.

The Ferris wheel breakdown completes the logic. When electricity fails, mechanical motion stops. When motion stops, the champion’s bodily excess becomes dangerous. When excess becomes dangerous, restraint is required. And when restraint is required, speech replaces force. The apology does not come despite the breakdown, but because of it. The system has been reset. This is why the amusement park is not merely foreshadowing but training.

The champion learns, physically and symbolically, that energy must circulate differently depending on context. Sometimes it must be discharged. Sometimes it must be restrained. (chapter 86) Sometimes it must be transmitted through words rather than bodies. This is not moral growth; it is adaptive intelligence.

Doc Dan and the Thunder

And this is precisely what reappears in episode 86. (chapter 86)

There, thunder returns — no longer as mechanical failure, but as biological event. The sparks and jolts saturating the panels are not just erotic embellishment. They reproduce the same logic of interruption and reset as well. Kim Dan’s body reacts as if struck by current. Thought fragments. Linear continuity breaks. “I can’t think straight” is not poetic confusion; it is systemic overload. I would even say, we are witnessing a short circuit which can only lead to a reset.

A thunderstorm does not persuade. It forces a reboot. In other words, this night stands under the sign of reality despite the sparks. Electricity is real and even natural.

The crucial difference is that this time, the current does not come from machines, nor from spectacle, nor from a game. It emerges between two bodies. This is why le courant passe becomes more than metaphor. The current does not dominate; it circulates. It requires two terminals. It only exists because both are present and conductive. And now, you comprehend why the champion was attentive (chapter 86) and asked questions to his sex partner. The current stands for communication. (chapter 86) Therefore it is not surprising that doc Dan starts looking at his fated lover. Imagine what it means for the athlete, when the “hamster” is staring at him, though he is a little embarrassed. Finally, he is truly looking at him. The champion loves his gaze. And now, you comprehend why the “wolf” listened to the “cute hamster” and stopped leaving marks.

In this sense, the hammer returns one last time — transformed. (chapter 86)

What struck metal in the amusement park now strikes the psyche. Not as violence, not as domination, but as reset. The phallus functions here exactly as the hammer did earlier: a tool of discharge that interrupts an old state and makes a new configuration possible. The result is not surrender, not illusion, but recalibration. Joo Jaekyung is once again releasing his “energy” (chapter 85), but this time, its nature has changed. It is no longer jealousy or anger, but love and desire. Hence the current is not colored in red, but white and pink. (chapter 86) It is not a flame like here , but a thunder and as such it is still restrained and regulated.

This is why episode 86 does not feel “magical”, once the structure is visible. Magic enchants without consequence. Thunder alters systems. After a strike, nothing resumes exactly as before.

And that is the point.

The champion is no longer a sun that burns from a distance. He has become a figure capable of switching modes — son and father, Thor and Jupiter, discharge and containment. And Kim Dan, having undergone the reset, is no longer operating on inherited assumptions (chapter 86) or second-hand data. New information must now be gathered. New meanings must be negotiated. Because Joo Jaekyung acts differently (son-father), the doctor is incited to discuss with his fated lover and not to generalize. He is pushed to become curious about the main lead and even adapt himself in the end.

The system has rebooted. What follows will not be repetition — because the thunder forced a reset. What follows will be movement and reciprocity — because current has begun to pass from one side to the other and the reverse. A new circle has been created.

Dream Nights and Drugged Time: Why Chapters 39 and 44 Could Not Last

If episode 86 confronts us with electricity as reset, then we must return to the earlier nights that failed — not because desire was absent, but because time itself was compromised.

Many Jinx-lovers remember the night in the States (chapter 39) and the penthouse night (chapter 44) as emotionally charged, intense, even pivotal. Confessions were made. Bodies responded. Vulnerability appeared to surface. And yet, both nights collapsed almost immediately afterward. What was felt (chapter 44) did not endure. What was said did not bind. What was shared did not accumulate into change.

Why?

The simplest answer would be to blame the champion’s behavior. But this explanation is insufficient — and, in fact, misleading. The deeper issue is not ethical failure alone, but structural impossibility. These nights were built on illusion. And illusion, by definition, cannot sustain time.

Let us begin with the night in the States.

In chapter 39, Kim Dan experiences desire (chapter 39), arousal, and emotional exposure under the influence of a drugged beverage. His body reacts strongly, almost violently. His speech loosens. He confesses. (chapter 39) He voices feelings that he has never dared to articulate consciously. Many readers interpreted this moment as a breakthrough — the first time the doctor allowed himself to want.

And yet, the morning after reveals the fatal flaw: he does not remember. (chapter 40)

Memory loss is not a narrative convenience here. It is the core of the scene’s meaning. Without memory, desire cannot transform into intention. Without intention, intimacy cannot become choice. What remains is sensation without authorship.

In other words, the confession existed — but outside time.

The body spoke, but the self could not claim it. The night produced intensity, not continuity. More importantly, it denied Kim Dan the possibility of return. Because he did not remember, he could not revisit the moment, reinterpret it, or choose it anew. Desire occurred — but never became decision. The night passed through him without granting him authorship. At the same time, Joo Jaekyung made sure with his joke (chapter 41) that doc Dan shouldn’t remember that night. This remark left a deep wound on doc Dan’s soul and mind, thus he hoped not to look like a fool in episode 86. (chapter 86) In this panel, we should glimpse a reference to the night in the States as well, and not just to the night in the penthouse.

The intensity of that night is why the champion’s later obsession with recreating that night is so telling. (chapter 64) Deep down, he hoped that such a night had been real. That’s why he asked shortly after their return about this particular night. (chapter 41) The event floats, unmoored, like a dream recalled only by one participant. I would even add, the amnesia from the doctor even afflicted a wound on the main lead. This explains why in Paris, he keeps asking doc Dan if the later is well and is not suffering from a fever. (chapter 86) He wants to ensure that his fated lover won’t forget this night. He is doing everything to avoid a repetition from that “dream or fake night”, where the physical therapist acted as the perfect lover, but forgot it. However, observe that here, the champion is touching doc Dan’s forehead, a sign that he is making sure that doc Dan is not “lying” by coercion or submission. At the same time, such a gesture reinforces my interpretation: thanks to the “thunder”, heat is generated. “Le courant passe” (the current passes) through physical contact, that’s how they create intimacy and understanding.

The penthouse night in chapter 44 follows a similar structure, though its emotional register differs.

Here, it is Joo Jaekyung who is intoxicated. (chapter 44) The setting is elevated, luxurious, almost theatrical. The doctor is brought into a space of power that is not his own. (chapter 44) By acting that way, the athlete created a false impression of himself, as if he was still rational and clear-minded. Again, desire unfolds. (chapter 44) (chapter 44) Again, closeness occurs. And again, the aftermath reveals the same fracture.

The champion does not remember fully (chapter 45) and later wants to even forget it. (chapter 45) Why? It is because contrary to the night in the States, the MMA fighter left traces on doc Dan’s body (chapter 45) and he can not deny his own involvement and actions. Hence the doctor is left alone. Only he can recall this “dream”. (chapter 44) But memory alone is not power. Remembering without the other’s participation transforms recollection into isolation. Kim Dan cannot confront, confirm, or renegotiate what happened, exactly like the champion did in the past. Meaning freezes instead of evolving. Striking is that he came to associate feelings with addiction. (chapter 46) No wonder why later doc Dan had no problem to reject the athlete. And for him, the next morning became a cruel reality, even a nightmare. It wounded doc Dan’s heart and soul so much that he learned the following lesson: to not get deceived by impressions. Hence in Paris, Doc Dan tries to explain the change of the champion’s attitude with drunkenness. (chapter 86)

What matters is not simply abandonment, but asymmetry of consciousness. While Joo Jaekyung remembers the night in the States, the other remembers the night in the penthouse: (chapter 44) One participant is altered. The other must carry the weight of meaning alone. The night does not end in shared reflection, but in silence and absence.

In both cases, the problem is not sex. It is not even exploitation or ignorance— though both are present. The problem is that time cannot flow forward from these nights.

Why? Because drugs suspend causality.

Under intoxication, actions do not generate obligation. Words do not demand response. Feelings do not require follow-up. The night becomes sealed — intense within itself, but cut off from before and after. This is why these encounters feel dreamlike in retrospect. Not romantic dreams, but dissociative ones.

And Jinx insists on this reading visually.

In both chapters, speech is unstable. (chapter 44) Words blur, vanish, or are forgotten. Even gestures go unnoticed: a kiss, an embrace or a patting. Memory fractures. The morning after is defined not by continuity but by confusion. The body has moved forward, but the narrative has not.

This logic culminates in the fireworks scene of chapter 84 (chapter 84)

Fireworks are often read as romance. But here, they function as warning. Fireworks illuminate the sky briefly, brilliantly — and then disappear. They leave no trace. And crucially, during this display, words are literally blurred. (chapter 84) Speech bubbles lose clarity. Confessions are obscured. The reader is denied access to meaning. Fireworks, like drugs, produce intensity without duration.

This is the crucial distinction that Part I prepared us for: heat versus current. Heat lingers. It can smother. It can burn. But it does not require connection. Current, by contrast, only exists if two points remain linked.

Chapters 39 and 44 are nights of heat. Bodies respond. Desire flares. But no circuit closes. No loop remains intact long enough for time to resume. This is why these nights are doomed — not morally, but structurally.

And this brings us to a crucial observation that many readers overlook.

In both of these earlier nights, questions are absent.

No one asks: “Are you okay?” (chapter 39) (chapter 44) It was as if these nights could only exist under altered states — as if clarity on either side would have made them impossible.
No one asks: “Do you remember?”
No one asks: “Why are you doing it?” “What does that mean to you?”

Speech exists, but it is not dialogic. It does not seek the other’s subjectivity. It spills, confesses, demands, judges or disappears. But it does not circulate. This is why, despite their intensity, these nights do not move the story forward. They collapse inward.

Episode 86, by contrast, will confront us with something radically different: a night that asks questions. (chapter 86)

But before we get there, we must acknowledge what these dream-nights leave behind.

They teach Kim Dan that desire is dangerous when it appears without agency. That closeness can dissolve overnight. That bodily truth does not guarantee recognition or even knowledge. And perhaps most importantly: that remembering alone is a burden. (chapter 86) This is why, when electricity returns in episode 86, it does not revive heat. It interrupts it. (chapter 86) That’s the reason why the athlete stops for a moment and asks doc Dan, if he needs a break. (chapter 86) This question is important because doc Dan admits his confusion and ignorance. He confesses to himself that he “knows nothing” not only about himself, but also about his fated lover. (chapter 86) The night is no longer sealed. It is permeable. Time resumes. (chapter 86) This signifies that thanks to the “champion’s thunder”, doc Dan was able to leave the vicious circle of “depression”. At the same time, such a confession implies that doc Dan’s present is no longer determined by the past and prejudices. And that is precisely why it matters.

From Drugged Time to Embodied Presence

If the earlier nights failed because time itself was compromised, then the question that naturally follows is this: what allows time to resume?

Chapters 39 and 44 taught us that intensity alone is not enough. Desire flared, bodies responded, confessions surfaced — and yet nothing endured. Not because feeling was false, but because consciousness was fractured. Words existed, but they did not circulate. Memory existed, but it was asymmetrical. Each night collapsed into silence the moment it ended.

Episode 86 emerges precisely at this fault line.

At first glance, it might seem quieter. Less dramatic. Less overtly confessional. And yet, this apparent restraint is deceptive. What changes here is not the presence of desire, but the medium through which meaning passes. What circulates between them in this night is not nostalgia, not projection, not even hope — but presence.

The sparks that punctuate episode 86 are not metaphorical excess. (chapter 86) They function as temporal markers. A spark exists only now. It has no duration. It cannot be stored, recalled, or anticipated. It appears — and vanishes. In this sense, electricity becomes the perfect visual language for the present moment itself.

Unlike heat, which lingers and can smother, current demands simultaneity. It requires two points to be active at the same time. The moment one withdraws, the circuit breaks. Sparks therefore signify not passion remembered or desired, but attention shared. This is why the night in episode 86 feels radically different from earlier encounters. At the end of episode 86, Kim Dan is no longer trapped in the past — replaying humiliation, abandonment or knowledge (as such arrogance). Nor is he projecting into the future at the end — fearing consequences, punishment, or loss. (chapter 86) For once, his thought does not spiral backward or forward. It halts. He decides to follow his heart again. (chapter 86)

The phrase carpe diem applies here not as romantic indulgence, but as psychological fact. To seize the day is not to ignore reality; it is to suspend temporal distortion. (chapter 86) In this night, neither character is reliving an old wound nor rehearsing a future defense. They are not remembering a dream. They are not trying to recreate one. They are simply there.

Electricity makes this visible. The body jolts. Thought fragments. Linear narration breaks. But unlike the drugged nights, this fragmentation does not produce amnesia. It produces grounding. Kim Dan’s repeated confusion — “I can’t think straight” — is not dissociation. (chapter 86) It is the absence of rumination.

This is what distinguishes presence from illusion. Illusion detaches the body from time. Presence anchors the body in time.

The sparks, then, do not represent chaos, rather emancipation and liberation. (chapter 86) Therefore the “hamster” can not control his voice and body. The sparks represent contact without temporal displacement. Both characters inhabit the same instant, without substitution, without rehearsal, without erasure. The present is no longer something to escape or survive. It becomes something that can be shared. That’s the reason why the two main leads are talking to each other.

And this is precisely why meaning finally begins to circulate.

If the first part (From Solar Heat to Electric Current) and second part ( Dream Nights and drugged time) traced how electricity replaces heat, and how illusion breaks time, then the next part turns to the most unsettling shift of all: the disappearance of words — and the emergence of the kiss as language.

No Words, But a Kiss: When Communication Changes Form

One of the most striking features of my illustration for episode 86 is the near absence of visible speech bubbles — even when Joo Jaekyung is clearly speaking. His mouth is open, his body leans in, his posture is attentive, and yet language is visually de-emphasized. Words are present, but they no longer dominate the frame.

By contrast, the star with the cut-off speech bubble appears elsewhere — suspended, incomplete. Language has not disappeared; it has lost its authority. It exists, but it is no longer imposed, no longer unilateral, no longer protected by distance.

This visual shift matters. (chapter 86) In earlier chapters, words often preceded erasure: confessions spoken under intoxication (chapter 10), statements blurred by drugs (chapter 43), sentences remembered by only one side. (chapter 39) Language functioned as exposure without continuity. Here, the narrative refuses that pattern. (chapter 86) It withholds verbal dominance so that something else can emerge. Kim Dan’s answer does not come in words. It comes as a kiss. (chapter 86) This gesture must not be misread as avoidance (silencing) or impulsivity. It is neither silence born of fear nor surrender to sensation. It is embodied communication — a mode forged by a history in which words were unsafe, unreliable, or followed by disappearance. The kiss articulates what cannot yet be stabilized in language without being lost again.

It says: I am here. And more importantly: I accept this moment. Not the future. Not the consequences. The present. But this action catches the MMA fighter by surprise, as in the athlete’s mind, Doc Dan has never initiated a kiss before except in the States, but the doctor doesn’t remember it. At the same time, it is clear that the athlete has not been confronted by his own amnesia concerning the night of his birthday: doc Dan had kissed him there too, thus the celebrity had been able to make doc Dan smile (chapter 44) and even laugh…. if only he could remember that night…

Crucially, this act in episode 86 (chapter 86) cannot be neutralized by Joo Jaekyung’s habitual reflexes — the “it’s nothing” (chapter 79), the “never mind”, (chapter 84) or it is a mistake, the easy erasure that once dissolved meaning after the fact. The kiss interrupts that mechanism. It produces a pause that cannot be talked over. It forces reflection. (chapter 86) Joo Jaekyung will have to ponder on the signification of such a kiss.

For the first time, meaning does not vanish once contact is made.

The kiss therefore marks a decisive transformation in how communication functions between them. Words are not rejected; they are postponed. Language is no longer the condition for intimacy, but its consequence. What circulates first is presence.

And this is why the kiss belongs structurally to the logic of current introduced earlier. Current does not explain itself. It passes — or it does not. It requires proximity, consent, and mutual contact. Once established, it cannot be undone by denial. Hence the champion reciprocates the gesture. (chapter 86) He is even kissing with open eyes, as though he desired not forget this wonderful night. In episode 86, communication no longer seeks to protect itself through speech. It risks itself through embodiment. And that risk, precisely because it is accepted rather than anticipated, changes everything.

First Conclusion — When Conditions Change

With the symbolic framework established, the earlier nights revisited, and the forms of communication closely examined, the analysis has already progressed far enough to reconsider the nature of the night in episode 86.

By moving through these successive angles — from mythological and elemental references, to nights compromised by illusion, to the transformation of how meaning is exchanged — one point becomes clear: this night is not just defined by intensity, tenderness, or redemption. It is also defined by changed conditions.

When electricity replaces heat (chapter 86), power ceases to be unilateral and becomes relational (sky and earth). Thunder does not linger or dominate; it strikes, interrupts, and resets. The champion is no longer read as a solar figure imposing force from above, but as a conductor within a circuit that requires reciprocity.

When the earlier nights are reexamined, their failure appears not as emotional insufficiency but as structural impossibility. Desire existed, but time could not flow. Drugs suspended causality, fractured memory, and sealed each encounter inside itself. What remained were dream-nights — vivid, intense, and ultimately unsustainable. Yet, they left wounds. (chapter 86) At the same time, it becomes clear that this moment in Paris embodies the convergence of two memories and two nights which helps them to recreate a new night marked by desires and communication. So this night will generate new memories and push them to redefine their relationship.

Finally, when attention shifts to communication itself, episode 86 reveals a decisive reconfiguration. (chapter 86) Meaning no longer relies on speech that can be blurred, forgotten, or denied. It circulates through presence. The kiss interrupts fear without abolishing clarity. Kim Dan does not forget the future; he accepts the risk of setting it aside. For the first time, current passes while both remain conscious, present, and aware.

One image quietly condenses this transformation. (chapter 86)

Kim Dan almost sits on Joo Jaekyung’s lap. (chapter 86) Earlier in the narrative, this posture belonged to another body. (chapter 19) The grandmother’s lap structured Kim Dan’s understanding of safety, endurance, and knowledge. Sitting there meant being held — but also being taught how to survive through sacrifice, silence, and self-effacement. That worldview sustained him, but it also confined him.

In episode 86, the posture is almost repeated — but the figure has changed.

This is not a romantic substitution. It is a symbolic shift. The body that now supports Kim Dan does not transmit inherited rules or fixed certainties. It asks questions. It pauses. It waits for response. He is actually more sitting between his legs or on his arms. In this moment, Kim Dan is no longer receiving knowledge about how to endure the world; he is participating in how to inhabit it.

From this point, a first answer to the guiding question emerges.

Episode 86 is neither illusion nor culmination. It does not redeem the past, nor does it erase it. It alters the framework within which meaning can circulate. Time resumes not because wounds have healed, but because they are no longer governing the present by default.

What remains unresolved — and what now demands further attention — is what follows from this shift.

If communication has changed form, how does unpredictability change meaning? If presence has been established, how does recognition operate without erasing the past? And if two nights once marked by failure now converge within the same moment, what does that convergence produce?

These questions open the next stage of the analysis.

The following sections will therefore turn away from possibility and toward consequence: how agency is reclaimed, how repetition acquires new ethical weight, and how two previously incompatible trajectories finally begin to add rather than cancel each other out.

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

Jinx: The Sweetest 🍭 Downfall 🧴🪮Ever

Notice: Right now, I am quite overwhelmed with work (grading papers, staff meetings etc), hence I can only write one essay after each episode.

Introduction – Where it begins

I have to admit that I had not anticipated a smut-scene in episode 85. On the other hand, it makes sense, for it is the night before the match, it is jinx-time. At the same time, their physical reunion (chapter 85) represents the positive reflection of this night (chapter 58) (chapter 58) (chapter 58), when the physical therapist chose to give up on the athlete and stop listening to his heart. Here, I am not only referring to the numerical symmetry but also to the doctor’s shifting vision of Joo Jaekyung.

In both episodes 58 and 85 (chapter 85), Jaekyung appears with a towel around his neck. This simple object evokes water and sweat, but in Jinx, these elements are never neutral. They are tied to one of the champion’s earliest traumas: the humiliation of being called “dirty” (chapter 75) and “smelly” as a child. This is why Jaekyung learned to perfuse his body with cologne after every shower (chapter 75) and why physical proximity has always carried the risk of shame. Hence he kept people at arms length. In chapter 40, when he rescued Kim Dan from the security guards, he kept his distance (chapter 40) — he had not yet showered, for the towel on his shoulders was stained with blood. Mingwa was indirectly referring to the champion’s psychological wounds. (chapter 40) It was, as if the fear of smelling “wrong,” of being perceived as contaminated, was still dictating his movements. Hence he could only claim doc Dan as one of his own, but not as his “physical therapist” or even “family”. And interesting is that doc Dan copied his attitude. In the hallway, he maintained a certain distance from the athlete. (chapter 40)

But in Paris, the presence of that same towel (chapter 85) suggests something very different. He has just stepped out of the shower, which means he is clean, his hair hanging down, still wet. (chapter 85) This striking detail is that he clearly left in a hurry: contrary to all earlier scenes where he sprayed himself with cologne (chapter 40) the moment he dried off (chapter 75), here he has not perfumed himself at all. (chapter 85) His hair is unstyled, his scent unmasked — and yet he approaches Dan without hesitation. He even kisses him. The item that once symbolized rejection now signifies trust: without fragrance, he is certain that doc Dan will not call him “dirty,” will not recoil, will not shame him. What once provoked distance becomes an unexpected bridge, revealing that Jaekyung is finally letting someone remain close, when he feels most vulnerable. The night in Paris does not simply suggest a return of desire; it announces the return of hope (chapter 85) and trust — and perhaps even the moment when Dan chooses, for the first time, to be honest with his own body and heart.

And yet — hidden beneath the sensual reunion and the echo of that earlier night — something else begins to unravel. Something softer, sweeter, far more dangerous for a man who once prided himself on standing above everyone else. For the first time, we witness the champion’s downfall — not a collapse of strength or dignity, but the collapse of the walls he spent years building. A downfall so gentle that it goes almost unnoticed, except by the one person who has always watched him closely: Doc Dan. (chapter 85)

After all, it takes a certain kind of irony for a man called “the Emperor” to experience his most significant fall at the very moment he carries someone else to bed (chapter 85) — fulfilling, without knowing it, a secret wish the physical therapist has harbored since childhood (chapter 61) [I will elaborate it further later]. And perhaps this is why the moment feels so disarming: because the downfall is not tragic but tender, not humiliating but intimate. Sweet, even.

But to understand why this ‘downfall’ is the sweetest one Joo Jaekyung has ever lived, we must first return to the moment it truly began — not in the bedroom, but hours earlier at the dinner table (chapter 85), when a single careless comment shattered the champion’s composure and revealed just how fragile his newfound hope really was.

The First Tremors

What caught my notice is that the physical therapist is the only one wearing the jacket with Joo Jaekyung on it! (chapter 85) In contrast, both Park Namwook and coach Jeong Yosep wear generic MFC T-shirts. (chapter 85) Mingwa is not simply dressing characters — she is revealing loyalties. The manager and coach are aligned with the institution MFC; Dan alone is aligned with the man, Joo Jaekyung. This quiet visual contrast already hints at the emotional imbalance that will unfold in the next few panels.

The first tremor begins at the dinner table, where the manager suddenly brings the physical therapist back to reality. (chapter 85) Dan is lost in his thoughts — anticipating the night ahead with the champion — and has barely touched his food. Park Namwook notices this. One might think, such a remark displays the manager’s concern for the main lead’s well-being. However, the manager adds that the other members of the team are all almost finished. With such a remark, it becomes clear that the manager is urging the protagonist to finish his plate. Although Park Namwook addresses Dan as if showing concern, the content of his remark betrays his true priority: not Dan’s well-being, but the team’s schedule. By pointing out that ‘the rest of us are almost finished,’ he urges Dan to keep pace, treating him as staff who had to follow the group rather than someone with personal needs. As you can sense, schedule is essential for the manager. However, because doc Dan couldn’t reveal the true reason behind his behavior, he gives an excuse for his lack of appetite. (chapter 85) He merely says he feels “a little queasy.” The irony is striking. In English, queasy is not a neutral word: it suggests nausea, a churning stomach, a sensation often associated with disgust or repulsion. And although Dan’s discomfort has nothing to do with Jaekyung, the word itself carries an emotional weight the champion is highly sensitive to. It brushes against an old, unhealed wound — the childhood humiliation of being called “dirty,” “smelly,” or somehow “wrong.” But doc Dan was not telling the truth, this explains why the main lead refused the medication from the manager right away. (chapter 85) As you can see, the first disturbance comes from Park Namwook. But this doesn’t end here.
He questions the physical therapist — not the fighter — and asks whether he is nervous about tomorrow’s match. The question is innocent, but its implications are not. By speaking to Dan rather than to Jaekyung, Park is unconsciously revealing his neglect toward his boss and champion. Secondly, with this remark “That’s understandable, since it’s been a while for you”, he reminds the champion of two things which have been tormenting him: not only the last match with Baek Junmin and Doc Dan’s vanishing, but also their night together before the Baek Junmin match, when Dan left after sex without looking back. (chapter 53) The manager’s words bring Joo Jaekyung back to reality and its uncomfortable truth that Dan’s presence now is still bound to a contract — temporary, contingent, never fully his. In other words, with his remarks, Park Namwook is reopening old wounds which shows his total blindness and lack of finesse and of empathy. He treats the last match, as if nothing bad had happened. The incident with the switched spray is simply erased.

Thus Jaekyung’s reaction is immediate: his mouth tightens in visible dissatisfaction. (chapter 85) It is a controlled expression, not a loss of composure, but it reveals irritation and intense gaze — the kind that arises when a sensitive subject is touched too directly. Park’s comment awakens a memory whose meaning has changed: back then, he accepted Dan (chapter 53) leaving without thinking; now, after Dan vanished from his life entirely, that earlier departure feels like a sign he failed to read. Park’s question brushes against this bruise, and Jaekyung’s lips reflect the discomfort.

As for the second tremor, it does not come from Park Namwook. It comes from Potato. (chapter 85) The younger fighter suddenly bursts into panic, declaring how nervous he would be in Jaekyung’s place, how his heart would be pounding out of his chest. His outburst is sincere, naïve, and completely focused on the champion — he never once considers Dan’s feelings. Yet these words strike deeper than he intends. At the mention of a pounding heart, Jaekyung’s eyes lift upward in a brief, involuntary movement. It is the smallest gesture, but it exposes everything he wishes to hide. Because his heart is pounding — but not for the match. It is because of doc Dan!

Potato unknowingly names the very thing Jaekyung is trying to keep steady: the nervousness and anticipation of the night ahead, the fear that history might repeat itself, and the desire that has been building for a long time. Unlike Park’s comment, which triggered irritation, Potato’s words hit the emotional center. This upward glance is the second tremor, the moment the façade slips just a little too far. Surrounded by people who see everything except the truth, Jaekyung reaches for the one thing he can control. He taps his phone and, in full view of the table, sends a message to Dan: (chapter 85) “Come to my room at 11.”

It looks like dominance, but it is driven by something far more fragile: (chapter 85) the need for reassurance, the wish to rewrite the pattern of the past, the quiet hope that Dan will not leave him again — not tonight and not afterwards.

This is where the Emperor’s downfall begins: with a tightened mouth, an upward glance, and a message sent to steady a heart that refuses to stay calm.

The Long Wait

If the dinner scene revealed the cracks in the champion’s composure, it also exposed something equally revealing about the manager. For Park Namwook, the real opponent is not Arnaud Gabriel — it is time. This explicates why the manager announces their departure at 7.00 am sharp, though the Emperor’s match is at noon. (chapter 85) Schedules are his armor, punctuality his hiding place. Whenever something threatens to slip beyond control, he retreats behind procedure.

This is why he suddenly takes an interest in Dan’s appetite. (chapter 85) His comment about the untouched plate is not born of concern; it is born of urgency. The faster Dan finishes, the sooner the table can be dismissed, and the sooner Park Namwook can send the champion to his room under the comfortable pretext of “rest.” (chapter 85) For him, “rest” is not a recommendation —
it is a containment strategy. This explains why the manager is not looking at the Emperor, when he tells him: “Jaekyung, go to bed early tonight, okay?”. Why? Because he doesn’t want a discussion. If he avoids eye contact, Jaekyung cannot object — the instruction is meant to be received, not answered. He is expecting obedience, nothing more. Therefore it is not surprising that the manager smiles (chapter 85), as soon as the athlete stands up right after his recommendation and announces he is now returning to his room.

Once Jaekyung is hidden behind a hotel door, quiet and unmonitored, nothing can be blamed on the manager anymore. If the champion sleeps poorly? Not his fault. If he feels sick? Not his fault. If emotions become volatile? Certainly not his fault. He will always be able to say: “I told him to go to bed early.”

What he wants is not Jaekyung’s well-being. What he wants is a clean conscience. But we have another example for his flaw. (chapter 85) A day and night without complications. A scenario in which no one can accuse him of negligence, if something goes wrong tomorrow. And Mingwa already exposed this flaw only seconds earlier. When Dan finally gives an excuse for his lack of appetite — “I’m feeling a bit queasy…” — the manager immediately reframes it as Dan’s recurring personal weakness: “It’s too bad you have trouble eating whenever we go abroad…” (chapter 85) With this single sentence, he erases the actual causes of Dan’s digestive problems — the fact that the therapist had been mistreated, overworked, stressed, ignored, even drugged during their last trip to the States. None of that exists in Park Namwook’s mind. In his version of reality, Dan’s discomfort is an inconvenience, not a symptom of mistreatment.

And here, his solution reveals everything: he immediately offers medication. Not help. Not care. Not attention. He treats doc Dan the same way than Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 54)

A pill — the fastest way to silence discomfort without having to see it. “Too bad” is not sympathy (chapter 85); it is avoidance. It exposes a man who does not want to be burdened by emotions, who cannot hold another person’s vulnerability without trying to shut it down. To him, Dan’s nausea is a logistical issue, not a sign of human distress.

Park Namwook’s flaw is not malice. His flaw is cowardice toward feelings — his own and those of others.
And this flaw will matter the next morning, when the Emperor and/or the doctor do not appear at 7:00 a.m. sharp, and the manager finally discovers that schedules offer no protection against the consequences of neglect.

But let’s return our attention to the manager’s recommendation to the champion: (chapter 85) He reacts with almost visible relief, when the champion stands up from the table. (chapter 85) He has no idea about the text message — no suspicion of anything planned for later. He sees only what benefits him: Jaekyung leaving on his own. Perfect. The fighter is out of sight, out of reach, and most importantly, out of his responsibility.

He doesn’t ask where Jaekyung is going. He doesn’t check if he’s alright. He doesn’t wonder whether something is wrong. He simply lets him go.

But this is exactly where the real question begins — a question the manager can never ask, only Jinx-philes: If Jaekyung returns to his room so early… what does he actually do until 11 pm?

What makes the evening in Paris so striking is the contradiction between time and behavior.
From the moment Joo Jaekyung sends the text at 7:02 p.m (chapter 85) and leaves the table shortly after, until the doctor knocks on his door at 11:00 p.m (if we assume that he went there at 11 pm)., almost four hours pass. (chapter 85) In theory, this is the perfect window to do what he used to do in the States (chapter 38) and Korea (chapter 48) before a big fight: watch his opponent’s videos, study their habits, rehearse counters. If we only looked at the clock, we might assume he spent the evening thinking about Arnaud Gabriel.

But the narrative context says the opposite.

Just before he leaves the table, Jaekyung has been hit by two painful reminders (chapter 85) linked to doc Dan, not Arnaud Gabriel. First, through Park Namwook’s question and tone, he is dragged back to the night before the Baek Junmin match — the night when sex with Dan was followed by distance, and then by disappearance after the fight. Second, Dan’s “queasy” excuse scratches an old wound: the fear of being perceived as disgusting or unwanted. Both moments are about abandonment and rejection, not competition. It is right after this double sting that he sends the message. In that instant, his thoughts are circling only one point: will Dan come to accept me, or will he pull away again?

That is the emotional seed of the long wait. This explains why they are on the bed, the athlete complained: (chapter 85) He had to restrain himself due to doc Dan. (chapter 85) From 7:02 onward, the question is no longer “How do I beat Gabriel?” but “How do I win doc Dan’s heart?” The clock from 7:02 to 11:00 p.m. stops being a “training window” and becomes an emotional countdown. He is no longer the champion preparing for an opponent—he is the man hoping not to be abandoned again. This is why the later scene at the door feels so contradictory: when Dan finally arrives, Jaekyung behaves like someone who couldn’t wait. (chapter 85) He opens the door and immediately grabs him inside (chapter 85), cutting off any possibility of hesitation. The way he drags him over the threshold, presses him against the wall (chapter 85), kisses him, lifts him (chapter 85) and carries him to the bed — all of that oozes urgency. Hence he doesn’t place his lover delicately on the bed, he rather pushes him down, thus we have the sound PLOP: (chapter 85) This is not the controlled, casual emperor of old; it is someone who has been holding back for hours and refuses to risk even a second in which Dan might change his mind.

And yet, visually, we know he has just finished showering. (chapter 85) His hair is still down and wet; the towel is still around his neck. That detail destroys the idea of a carefully structured pre-match evening. If he truly wanted a calm, professional night, he had four hours to shower, dry his hair, apply cologne, and settle. Instead, he postpones the shower so long that he is still damp when he opens the door.

In other words, he waited until the very last minute to get ready. This creates a striking contrast: he had four hours, yet he looks as though he prepared in a hurry. So what exactly did he do during this lapse of time? 😮

This is what every Jinx-lover should wonder. And given Jaekyung’s personality — his directness, his physicality, his awkwardness with emotional communication — a new hypothesis imposes itself. He did not study Gabriel. He studied how to please doc Dan. I am suspecting that he might have watched porno for that matter. Don’t forget this scene on the beach: (chapter 65) and the comment of the champion in front of this movie: (chapter 29) Moreover, I consider this scene (chapter 85) as a new version of Choi Heesung’s advice: Doc Dan just needs to sit back and enjoy!! (chapter 31) Joo Jaekyung is now doing everything, as deep down he wants to become the perfect lover! And how had I described the night in the States? Back then, the hamster Dan had become the champion’s perfect lover, especially because he had kissed his face, hugged him and confessed to him. (chapter 39) But if his fear to lose doc Dan was so huge, why did he ask him to come so late then? (chapter 85) It is the same hour than in the States. (chapter 38) One might reply that the athlete desired to maintain appearances and as such to hide his suffering and anxiety. In other words, he was hiding his emotions behind routine, Jinx-sex would always start at 11 pm. However, this idea is not entirely satisfying because once doc Dan was in his room, the fighter was no longer hiding his emotions and desires. (chapter 85) That’s the reason why I am suspecting another cause for this time 11 pm. In my opinion, it is related to the athlete’s traumas: the physical abuse from his father (chapter 72), when the latter would return late from his “work” and the death of his father (chapter 73).

After the painful reminders at the table — the allusion to the Junmin night and Dan’s “queasy” excuse that scratched an old wound — his entire focus shifted. He could no longer risk repeating the dynamics of the past. In his mind, the only way to ensure that Dan would not disappear again was to do better, physically, in the one domain where he feels competent. So it is not far-fetched to imagine him watching tutorials or videos, searching for techniques, guidance, or advice he never received from anyone. He has one mentor in intimacy, Cheolmin, but the latter has only appeared once. No model to imitate. No words for tenderness. But he can learn through action, through practice, through imitation. And suddenly, this would explain everything that happens later.

It explains why, once doc Dan stands at his door, he behaves with such urgency. He grabs him immediately, pulls him inside, presses him against the wall while holding his face tenderly (chapter 85), kisses him with a force that has been building for hours. He had been so absorbed — so busy learning, rehearsing, imagining — that he realized only late that it was almost time for Dan to arrive. The rushed shower is not laziness; it is evidence that his preparation was of another kind altogether.

And then Dan appears. And this alone must have boosted Jaekyung’s ego in a way nothing else could. (chapter 85) Because doc Dan could have refused. He could have used his queasiness as an excuse, could have stayed in his room, could have claimed exhaustion. Instead, he obeyed the request — a request sent by someone who had hurt him deeply in the past. Doc Dan’s arrival is proof that he is not rejecting him. Proof that the night is real. Proof that the attempt to do better might actually matter. At the same time, doc Dan couldn’t miss the true meaning behind this text sent in front of others: the athlete’s anxiety and suffering. (chapter 85) This explains why his worried gaze followed his fated partner. (chapter 85) In other words, the text had a different meaning. It was not an order, but rather a wish…and it had nothing to do with his match against Arnaud Gabriel. During that night, Joo Jaekyung is not seeing a surrogate fighter in front of him or a sex toy, but his real partner, his future boyfriend. This means, this night stands in opposition to the one in the penthouse: (chapter 53) He is gradually moving on from his belief and jinx, he is even now prioritizing his love life over work!! If Park Namwook knew, he would get so shocked and scared… he would yell at him for causing a mess, for neglecting his “work”.

Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why Jaekyung takes his time for the first time. (chapter 85) This is why he touches Dan’s face instead of flipping him over.
This is why he kisses slowly, repeatedly, almost reverently. He knows that doc Dan likes nipple foreplay.
This is why he carries him in his arms (chapter 85) instead of carrying him over his shoulder. And this is why he suddenly engages in a new kind of foreplay — licking Dan’s leg (chapter 85) and anus (chapter 85) — something he has never done before. This does not come from instinct. It comes from intention. It comes from effort. It comes from learning. He is indeed showering doc Dan with love and tenderness, therefore it is not surprising that the “hamster” is moved sensually and emotionally. Exactly like during the Summer Night’s Dream, he is reaching nirvana, hence Jinx-philes are constantly seeing stars,. (chapter 85)

In short, the four hours did not shape his body for the match. They shaped his behavior for doc Dan.

The long lapse of time reveals a man who was not preparing for Arnaud Gabriel at all — but preparing for the one person whose opinion governs his heart. And when that person actually stands at his door, the tension of those hours condenses into the urgency of his welcome, the care of his touch, and the new tenderness of his actions. Everything in that moment — from the haste of his shower to the way he drags Dan inside — points toward a single truth: something fundamental in Joo Jaekyung has shifted.

And this brings us to the real meaning of the essay’s title.

The Truth Behind The Title

Many readers, seeing The Sweetest Downfall Ever , might assume that the downfall refers to Joo Jaekyung’s current behavior: his neglect of sleep in favor of desire, his single-minded focus on sex the night before the match, his impulsive decision to carry doc Dan to bed (chapter 85), or even the looming risk of professional failure. Others might think the downfall describes Dan’s new physical position — head lowered, body lifted (chapter 85) — or the emotional slip that comes with resurfacing feelings: the therapist losing distance, falling back into intimacy. All of these readings sound plausible at first glance. (chapter 85) But the truth behind the title is far simpler, far more literal, and yet far more symbolic.

The downfall begins with his hair. For the first time, he is letting his hair down. (chapter 85) This visual shift, subtle yet radical, is the origin of the title.

And under this light, the meaning behind my illustration becomes clearer. This is why I chose pink “hair” for the background — not merely as decoration, but as a visual clue. The color evokes warmth, softness, and vulnerability: the emotional terrain Jaekyung steps into the moment gravity pulls his hair out of its rigid form. But why is this detail meaningful?

Because the idiom “to let your hair down” carries centuries of emotional and cultural weight.

When we read this historical meaning through the lens of Mingwa’s imagery, Jaekyung’s hair becomes more than a style choice. It becomes a confession. (chapter 85)

Letting his hair down means dropping the persona. Letting his hair down means allowing himself freedom.
Letting his hair down means entering intimacy — not performance.

It is the visual act of stepping away from the rigid social restraints imposed by MFC, public expectations, masculinity, and even trauma. And with this understanding, the transition becomes effortless:

For years, Joo Jaekyung’s hair has signified his status. (chapter 85) Styled up, hardened with gel (chapter 30) , perfectly arranged — it is the crown of the Emperor, the symbol of his control, his discipline, and the myth that MFC sells:
Joo Jaekyung, the untouchable. Joo Jaekyung, the brand. Joo Jaekyung, the man who never bends. (chapter 82) When the hair stands, the image stands.

But in Paris, for the first time, the hair falls. (chapter 85)

Even before chapter 85, Mingwa prepares the audience for this silent rebellion. Two days before the match, he wears a cap (chapter 85) — but not the way adults or professionals usually do.
He tilts it up, exposing his entire face. Teenagers wear their caps like this: loose, careless, unguarded, more concerned with comfort than appearance. And suddenly, Jaekyung looks younger — not in age, but in spirit. His gaze is no longer shadowed by the bill. It is fully visible, open, almost soft.

Then comes the wolf-ear headband at the amusement park (chapte 85), a gesture that would have been unthinkable for the Emperor of MFC. It is ridiculous, childish, playful — and he wears it anyway. Not for the crowd, not for the cameras, but because Dan asked him to wear one too. So he placed it on his head. It is the second stage of the downfall: the moment where he stops caring about the star image that has governed him for years. The moment where he allows himself to be seen as something other than a fighter. The wolf ears, like the tilted cap, signal a shift toward youthfulness, toward softness, toward an identity unshaped by branding. And yet, both items share something important: they still control the hair.

The cap hides it. The headband frames it. In both cases, the hair remains managed, held in place, contained.
This means that the “rejuvenation” we observe in these scenes is still superficial — a flirtation with freedom rather than freedom itself. (chapter 85) The cap and wolf ears make him look younger, even boyish, but they do not dismantle the structure around him. They soften the edges of the Emperor, but they do not dissolve the crown.

He looks more approachable, but not yet vulnerable. He looks less like a weapon, but not yet like a man. He looks playful, but not yet liberated. However, when he is seen with his hair down (chapter 85), he looks exactly like the little boy in the picture: (chapter 71) So doc Dan could recognize the little boy in the athlete, the more he sees the protagonist with his hair down. Furthermore, I noticed that contrary to season 1, Doc Dan has now more memories of the “wolf” facing him. (chapter 85) In the past, he would more look at him from behind: (chapter 35) (chapter 35) Seeing his face reflects not only the increasing care for each other, but also the improving communication between them.

And this is also the moment where the narrative contrast becomes striking. While Joo Jaekyung’s appearance is drifting backward toward youth, Arnaud Gabriel’s beard makes him look older, (chapter 85) more mature, more “masculine” in the traditional sense. This explicates why the stylists had to dress him up. (chapter 82) Yet such an intervention did more than prepare him for the cameras — it tightened the restrictions around his own image, reducing the fighter’s rights over how he appears to the world. With the suit, he appeared older and more powerful. The French fighter leans into age, while the Korean champion leans into youth — a symbolic inversion that reinforces the central tension in the Paris arc: Gabriel performs adulthood; Jaekyung rediscovers the adolescence he never lived. (chapter 85) But just as Jaekyung begins to slip into these youthful, softer identities, MFC reasserts control.

But MFC has its own ritual of restoration. At the photo shoot, the stylists immediately return him to form: (chapter 85) hair up, face polished, a look engineered for posters and rankings. He becomes once again the Emperor — the man who must appear older, sharper, more intimidating, more manufactured.

And this is exactly why the next transformation hits so hard. When Dan arrives at 11 p.m., Joo Jaekyung opens the door with his hair down, still dripping slightly from a rushed shower. This is not the Emperor. This is not the brand. This is not the legend presented in MFC 317. (chapter 79) This is the boy from the childhood photograph.

The hair-down Jaekyung is younger, wilder, softer (chapter 85) — someone who belongs not to MFC but to himself. Someone capable of affection. Someone whose emotions sit close to the skin. Someone who has stopped pretending. He is able to smile genuinely.

“Letting one’s hair down” is an idiom meaning to stop performing, to stop controlling oneself, to finally relax into authenticity. As you can see, Mingwa uses the concept (letting one’s hair down”) literally and metaphorically at once. The physical gesture (his hair falling) expresses the emotional one (his defenses lowering).

And suddenly, the birthday illustration released earlier this year makes sense. In the rain, with his hair heavy and unstyled, his gaze dark and sensual, Jaekyung appears nothing like the commanding emperor. He looks free — freed by weather, freed by desire, freed from roles. It was foreshadowing, not just fanservice. It announces the end of the « jinx » in reality.

Which brings us to the second reason “downfall” is the perfect word. “Downfall” often describes the collapse of status — the fall of kings, the ruin of reputations. And here, too, the meaning applies. Because by letting his hair down, Joo Jaekyung risks the downfall of the very myth that protects him.

He is neglecting his work. He is prioritizing Dan over rest. He is engaging in a long, indulgent foreplay the night before his comeback match — a foreplay so attentive and sensual that Dan wonders what changed. This is not the Emperor. This is a man who is slowly abandoning the throne.

And Mingwa multiplies the symbolic echoes:

  • Downfall as rain:
    Heavy rain makes hair fall, obscures vision, exposes vulnerability.
    It is no coincidence that the birthday art shows him wet — nature brings him down to earth.
  • Downfall as emotional collapse:
    His confrontation with memories at dinner destabilizes him.
    His desire for Dan overwhelms him.
    His anxiety about losing Dan drives him.
  • Downfall as public risk:
    If he wins and hugs Dan in front of cameras out of gratitude and affection — a real possibility given his new softness — he could expose their bond publicly.
    This would be the ultimate downfall of the Emperor image:
    the revelation that he is not a remote titan but a man in love.
  • Downfall as liberation:
    The fall from the Emperor’s pedestal is not a tragedy.
    It is freedom.

And this is where the meaning circles back to sweetness. However, this also signifies that he is escaping the control of MFC and as such he represents a source of danger for the organization.

When Jaekyung whispers, “Why the fuck do you taste so sweet today?” he is not describing Dan. (chapter 85) He is describing himself. His sweetness is the taste of freedom — freedom from performance, freedom from control, freedom from MFC, freedom from fear. He is enjoying this moment. Dan tastes sweet because Jaekyung is finally tasting the life he never allowed himself to want.

So the “downfall” of the title is not the fall of a champion.

It is the fall of a mask. A downfall so soft that it feels like surrender, so intimate that it feels like seduction, and so liberating that it becomes — unmistakably — sweet. Because the moment Jaekyung lets his hair down, he becomes someone who can fall in love. And perhaps someone who can finally be loved in return.

And now, you are probably thinking, this is it! But no… because we have the long wait the next morning!

Room 1704: The Number of Unscheduled Freedom

While the night in Paris reveals how quietly the Emperor has begun to fall, the true test of his transformation arrives the next morning. If letting his hair down marks the softening of his identity, what happens next exposes something even more subversive: Joo Jaekyung begins to let go of time itself. Because in Paris, time belongs not to MFC, not to Park Namwook, and not to the match — but to room 1704, (chapter 85) the one place where schedules dissolve, rituals are forgotten, and the fighter finally sleeps like someone who no longer needs to brace for survival.

Room 1704 is not just a hotel room; it is the numerical mirror of Jaekyung’s internal shift. It reduces to the number 12, and this detail offers a far deeper layer of meaning than coincidence. Twelve is the number of completeness. It marks the end of one cycle and the threshold of another. In numerology, it unites the energy of new beginnings (1) with the harmony of partnership (2) to form the creative expansion of 3. This blending transforms 12 into a symbol of spiritual awakening and divine order — a moment where the earthly and the transcendent briefly touch. It is no accident that the number appears in so many foundational structures: twelve months shaping the year, twelve zodiac signs forming the cosmic wheel, twelve tribes anchoring a nation, twelve apostles guiding the birth of a new faith. Across cultures, twelve signifies not closure, but transition: the release of what binds and the emergence of a new form.

Seen through this lens, room 1704 becomes the perfect setting for the champion’s inner shift. He does not simply enter a hotel room; he steps into a symbolic space where an old identity completes itself and a new one quietly begins. Twelve encourages letting go, surrendering rigidity, and allowing transformation to unfold. And this is precisely what happens that night. In room 1704, Joo Jaekyung lets his hair down, lets his guard fall, lets Dan remain close, and lets go — without yet realizing it — of the rituals and defenses that once defined him. The number that governs the room marks the moment where the Emperor’s earthly order dissolves, making space for an awakening shaped not by hierarchy or discipline, but by intimacy and partnership.

And the room itself reinforces this symbolism. Above the couch hangs a painting (chapter 85) The image is dreamlike: there are white horses with wings, a Pegasus-like creatures and angels. Their outlines are soft, almost blurred, as if painted in the air rather than on canvas. This is no random hotel decoration. A Pegasus traditionally symbolizes deliverance from earthly burdens, escape from oppression, and ascension into a higher realm; angels, of course, signify protection, guidance, and spiritual renewal. Together they transform the couch area into a symbolic threshold: the boundary between the profane world (MFC, schedules, fear, trauma) and a space touched by something gentler, freer, almost sacred.

The Pegasus-and-angel painting above the couch does more than sanctify room 1704—it also illuminates something that has quietly shaped Dan’s entire emotional life: his relationship to the couch itself. (chapter 21) The image of winged rescue and divine protection hangs over the very piece of furniture that, throughout the series, has functioned as Dan’s private sanctuary. This is not incidental. In Jinx, the couch is tied to his deepest memories of care and abandonment, and Mingwa activates this symbolism each time Dan gravitates to it.

Why did Dan’s nightmare of abandonment strike precisely, when he fell asleep on the couch? (chapter 21) Why does he consistently feel safer on the couch than in a bed? (chapter 29) Why, after the second swimming lesson, did he refuse to return to the bed (chapter 81), even though he was exhausted? Why does he place the teddy bear (chapter 84) —his last substitute for lost parental affection—on the couch and not on the bed? And finally, why has he always harbored the secret wish to be carried to bed, as confessed through his memory in chapter 61? (chapter 61)

The answers converge: the couch is Dan’s liminal space, the threshold between being left behind and being held, between cold reality and the remnants of tenderness he once knew. Note that there is no couch in the halmoni’s house. (chapter 10) Secondly, at no moment, we ever witness the grandmother carrying the little boy to bed. Either she is rocking him to sleep outside the house (chapter 47) or he is already in the bed. We never see her bringing him to bed.

Thus I came to develop the following theory. In childhood, before everything collapsed, the couch was the place where doc Dan waited for his parents to return from work—the place where he sometimes fell asleep with his teddy bear, only to be lifted and carried to bed by someone who loved him. It was brief, fragile, but it became etched into him as the last ritual of genuine care, before the world turned harsh. This would explain why he has internalized such gestures: (chapter 44), (chapter 44) traces from parents. And now, you comprehend why the hamster could never truly rest in the bed. The couch is therefore not an adult preference; it is a trauma imprint. Resting there feels safe because beds—large, empty, abandoned spaces—became reminders of whoever no longer carried him. Hence it is no longer surprising that he woke up, when he sensed the vanishing of warmth. (chapter 21)

This is why Dan puts the teddy bear on the couch (chapter 84): the bear stands in for a lost comforting presence. It also represents the main lead, Joo Jaekyung. The latter is gradually reentering in the physical therapist’s heart and life. Therefore it is not surprising that there, he squeezes the hand of the toy. It is also why Doc Dan curls around it like a child who deep down hopes to be chosen, lifted, and held. And it is why, even as an adult, his body still whispers the same yearning: someone, please carry me to bed again.

Placed in this context, the painting above the couch in room 1704 becomes profound. The winged horses represent rescue; the angels represent guardianship. They hover above the very place where Dan’s old wound meets the possibility of healing. And on this particular night, the symbolism is fulfilled: the man he once feared, the man who once hurt him, becomes the one who finally lifts him —not to discard him, not to dominate him, but to carry him to bed with the gentleness he has been unconsciously longing for since childhood. Under this new perspective, it becomes comprehensible why doc Dan often never realized that the athlete had often fulfilled his wish (chapter 29, chapter 40, chapter 65, chapter 68, chapter 79)

The couch, the painting, the number 1704—all align to mark this night as a turning point. A moment where old scripts collapse, where Dan’s abandonment narrative begins to loosen, and where Joo Jaekyung unknowingly steps into the role that no one has fulfilled since Dan was small: the one who does not leave him sleeping alone, but brings him into warmth.

And this is precisely what the number 1704 suggests. Reduced to 12, it carries the connotations of completion, awakening, divine order, the closing of one cycle and the opening of another. The Pegasus and angels above the couch echo that meaning visually: a silent promise that something in this room will lift rather than trap, heal rather than wound.

It is striking, too, that the imagery concerns flight—wings, ascension, rising above earthly weight. (chapter 85) For Joo Jaekyung, whose entire identity has been built on gravity, discipline, and the hardness of the body, this painting becomes an unconscious prelude to what he is about to do emotionally: let go, descend from the Emperor’s pedestal, and allow himself to be vulnerable. For Dan, the angels evoke the comfort and innocence he lost in childhood, the tenderness he has been deprived of for years. The painting therefore mirrors both men: the fighter who needs freedom, and the healer who needs protection.

Placed above the couch, it becomes the room’s spiritual anchor. It blesses the space without the characters realizing it. It reframes the night not as moral failure but as transformation. In this light, the “downfall” in the title is not the collapse of a champion — it is the completion of a cycle. A descent that is also a rising. A falling-away that creates room for renewal. Twelve crowns the night not with the end of something, but with the birth of something sweeter. Observe that around the painting, the pattern on the wall looks similar to snow flakes. It’s no coincidence… a synonym for “home”. A visual whisper that what happens here is not corruption but ascension and even “Nirvana”. That’s why I have the feeling that both or one of them might not wake up on time.

The first sign that room 1704 operates under new rules appears through a small but powerful object: the Do Not Disturb sign. (chapter 85)

For years, nothing in Jaekyung’s life has been allowed to interrupt the routine designed to keep him winning. His schedule is a fortress — wake up early, drink milk, shower and perfume, style hair, prepare body, prepare mind. Every minute is accounted for. Every ritual restores the Emperor identity. No step can be skipped.

But the moment Dan enters room 1704, the fortress cracks. The DND sign goes up. This implies that Joo Jaekyung might be able to sleep better and longer after this “hot night”.

And this tiny act holds enormous consequences. Park Namwook’s entire identity as manager is built on timing. He hides behind schedules the way Jaekyung once hid behind performance. (chapter 85) His mantra — 7:00 AM sharp — is not about concern. It is about control. If he arrives very early with his star, he believes that he has done his job. It is now MFC and Joo Jaekyung’s responsibility to decide about the match. Striking is that in the States, doc Dan woke up at 10. 26 am (chapter 85) and he was still able to arrive on time in the arena. (chapter 40) For me, it is a clue that the manager would always request to meet around 7.00 am, when the match was at noon. But what should do the athlete do during all this time? He can only get nervous and feel pressured.

This is where the true problem begins. A fighter scheduled to rise at dawn for a noon match is being set up to fail. The human body performs best roughly four or five hours after waking; having a good breakfast, for a match at midday, the ideal waking time would be closer to 8:30 or 9:00. Yet Park Namwook forces the entire team into a rhythm that has nothing to do with physiology and everything to do with his own fear of unpredictability. In other words, he is not managing an athlete — he is managing his anxiety.

The timing is disastrous for someone like Joo Jaekyung, whose insomnia is a recurring wound in the story. Sleep is the one ressource the Emperor chronically lacks, and the one thing he finally has a chance to experience now that doc Dan is beside him. (chapter 81) I noticed that in different scenes from season 2, the athlete started waking up later and even after doc Dan. (chapter 66) But the manager’s rigid schedule threatens even that. An early morning summons drains the fighter’s cortisol reserves before the match has even begun, creating a long, empty corridor of waiting — a period where tension, anxiety, fatigue, and irritation ferment in the body. Instead of resting, centering, and preparing, the champion would spend hours fighting against the clock imposed on him.

And this, ironically, is precisely what Park Namwook wants: a day without surprises, without emotional complications, without having to shoulder responsibility if something goes wrong. By bringing the team down to the lobby at a painfully early hour (chapter 85), he can tell himself that he has done everything correctly. From the moment they arrive, the rest is “not his problem.” His scheduling is a shield — not for Jaekyung, but for himself.

This reveals a harsh truth about his management style. He values predictability over performance, procedure over well-being, optics over actual athletic needs. And because he interprets punctuality as competence, he assumes that an early arrival protects him from blame. Whether the star sleeps well, eats well, or preserves his mental focus does not matter. What matters is that the boxes are checked, the appearance of order is maintained, and the responsibility is successfully transferred upward.

But what happens if the Emperor does not appear at 7:00 AM? (chapter 85) What happens if the room 1704 — with its quietly glowing DND sign — refuses to open?

Suddenly the carefully constructed ritual collapses. The manager may be standing in front of the door early in the morning, but the DND sign renders him powerless. He cannot knock insistently, he cannot demand entry or yell, and he certainly cannot ask hotel staff to open the door or to call the athlete. Any attempt to violate a guest’s privacy would not only break hotel policy — it could lead to a lawsuit, a breach-of-contract scandal, or even an international incident involving their star athlete. One angry complaint from Joo Jaekyung could cost the hotel its reputation, and one misstep from Park Namwook could cost him his career. And because he knows the champion had been drinking after the “loss” (chapter 54) , he might even jump to the wrong conclusion: that Jaekyung drank again — this time behind his back. (chapter 82) The irony is striking. Two days before the match, it was Park Namwook who overindulged with the others, yet he may now project that same carelessness onto the athlete. In his mind, the DND sign does not simply mean “rest”; it becomes a warning signal, a possible confirmation of the irresponsibility he fears but has never actually witnessed. Thus I can already imagine him panicking.

And this is exactly what terrifies him: there is no legal or professional ground on which he can force the champion to obey the schedule he imposed. For once, he cannot hide behind authority. He cannot produce documents or procedures to justify intervention. He cannot shift responsibility to MFC.

He is trapped in a situation where doing nothing is dangerous, and acting is even worse. One might object and say that he can still call the two protagonists. However, the doctor didn’t bring his cellphone to the room. (chapter 85) Secondly, it is possible that the athlete’s cellphone runs out of battery, especially if he watched so many videos the night before. However, if the staff knows about the DND, the manager can not ask the desk to call Joo Jaekyung either.

But the most destabilizing element of all is that he cannot even determine whom to blame — the physical therapist who may have encouraged the fighter to rest longer, or the champion who dared to let doc Dan sleep past the artificial boundaries the manager set in place or even slept longer by inadvertence. Another important aspect is the text from the champion. (chapter 85) Here, it is not written 11.00 pm, so the message could be read as 11.00 am. So this message could be read like this. He wanted to rest till 11.00 am. This could represent an evidence that champion chose to act behind Park Namwook’s back and trust Doc Dan more than Park Namwook.

The hierarchy reverses itself in an instant: the Emperor is untouchable, and the manager is the one who risks punishment.

For the first time, Park Namwook may have to confront the truth he has avoided for years: that his role as manager is ornamental, that he has never truly controlled the Emperor’s time, and that his authority dissolves the moment the athlete chooses to prioritize his own needs or his lover’s needs.

In that paralysis, old coping strategies return. He may blame Dan for keeping the champion awake. He may blame the champion for irresponsibility. He may fear that the match will suffer and that this failure, unlike all the others, will reflect poorly on him. One thing is sure: the manager can not leave the hotel without the wolf, and the latter will refuse to leave doc Dan behind either. As you can see, this night stands under the sign of “partnership” and the manager is now excluded.

However, inside room 1704, none of this external pressure exists. Because of the painting, I deduce that this room stands for intemporality. It was, as if time had stopped flowing. For the first time in years, Joo Jaekyung sleeps without fear. Without nightmares. Without counting breaths. Without bracing for violence. Without packing his trauma into the muscles of his back. Why? Because Dan is there. Not touching him — simply present. The presence alone rewrites the body’s memory.

And here lies the narrative genius: if Dan wakes first, he will instinctively protect that peace. He knows how vital rest is. He knows how Jaekyung has struggled to breathe, to sleep, to function. He knows the psychological cost of insomnia. He may silence alarms, block the manager from entering, or simply remain beside him until Jaekyung wakes naturally.

Which sets up the coming conflict:

If Jaekyung wakes late — later than the 7:00 AM schedule —he will not have enough time for his rituals.

  • No milk to ground him
  • No cold shower to reset his body
  • No perfume to cover the phantom scent of childhood shame
  • No hair styling to reinstall the Emperor crown

But none of this would matter, as long as doc Dan accepts him like that. However, it is clear that the fight will take place no matter what, as this match will be shown on TV! How do I know this? A match scheduled at noon on a Saturday is not designed for a French television audience — it is one of the least convenient viewing times for locals. But it aligns perfectly with broadcast windows in Korea and the United States, which means the bout is already plugged into international programming. In other words, the machinery is running. Cameras will roll, sponsors will expect coverage, and the event cannot be canceled simply because the champion oversleeps. The celebrity can arrive late, for he brings money. Joo Jaekyung will walk into the arena not as the branded champion, but as the man from room 1704 (chapter 85), a man who slept deeply, whose hair still remembers being down, whose body still carries Dan’s warmth. And this is the true downfall: He risks entering a match not as the Emperor, but as himself. And such a transformation could make people realize how young the “MMA fighter” is in the end. At the same time, his late arrival could create the illusion that the Emperor is not mentally and physically ready for a fight so that Arnaud Gabriel underestimates his opponent.

But here’s the irony — this may be the very thing that makes him stronger. Room 1704 becomes the space where the champion’s trauma evaporates, where instinct replaces ritual, where softness replaces armor. If he oversleeps, it means he felt safe — an emotional victory far more significant than a title defense.

For Park Namwook, however, oversleeping is a managerial nightmare. It is disorder. It is unpredictability. It is autonomy — the one thing he cannot manage. And when he stands before the DND sign, powerless, he may finally realize that his control and authority were always an illusion. He is not the boss or the owner of the gym. The Emperor no longer belongs to schedules, rituals, or institutions. He belongs to the one person behind that door. And that would be doc Dan who overlooked everything in Paris: his food (chapter 82), his look (chapter 82), his free time and took care of the champion’s emotional needs. In Paris, the « hamster » became the champion’s manager de facto, the unofficial right-hand. That’s why if they are late and they need a scapegoat, the manager can blame the physical therapist for the « delay », he would always come late to appointments (chapter 17: meeting the doctor) and to the fights (Busan, in the States).

Room 1704 is not the site of a downfall. It is the site of awakening.

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

Jinx: This has to change 🌬️🌀🍃

Chapter 79 proved my previous interpretation correct: the number 9 announces the end of a circle. (chapter 79) However, let me ask you this. What kind of circle ends in episode 79? Moreover, how is this ending different from the past? Interesting is that episode 79 of Jinx doesn’t end with conflict, but with an awakening. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung does not rise to fight, command, or perform — he wakes up to a realization: “This can’t go on.” In the Korean version, his words carry an unusual clarity. It is not fate that changes, but choice. The champion, who once lived as if enslaved by habit and haunted by ghosts, now chooses transformation. The circle that has defined his life — power, silence, guilt, and repression — finally begins to close.

The decision is quiet but monumental: he will no longer live in a cycle of fear and self-loathing. (chapter 79) Until now, Jaekyung has moved through life as if carrying a curse — the belief that he is unworthy of care and love. (chapter 78) Every match, every order, every touch was an act of penance. Yet, in this episode, that belief dissolves. What vanishes in chapter 79 is not his strength, but the compulsion to suffer for it. Through the unconscious confession from Doc Dan, the wolf discovers that despite his wrongdoings, he is not hated by the “hamster”. (chapter 79)The words carry the same emotional weight as (chapter 39) from the magical night in the States. Both moments unfold in half-darkness, both break through inhibition, and both blur the line between consciousness and surrender. The verbal difference hides a deeper sameness: (chapter 79) is not remorse alone — it is an act of love, an instinctive reaching-out toward the other’s pain.

Mingwa mirrors the composition of these two scenes to stress their equivalence. The parted lips, the contrast between the heavy breath and the mumbling, the closeness of skin — all visual echoes that turn guilt into a language of tenderness. In chapter 39, the confession was drug-induced, raw and unfiltered, but afterward Jaekyung dismissed it with a laugh: (chapter 41) What could have been a moment of truth was repressed through mockery. His body language was betraying him: his closed arms reveal that he was on the defensive. By trivializing love, he protected himself from suffering and as such from facing his own capacity for harm. Behind the joke hid an immense self-loathing: to accept the confession as real would have required believing himself worthy of it. To trust himself…. he is not a loser, a nobody!

Chapter 79 reverses that denial. This time, the athlete cannot turn away or make light of what he hears. (chapter 79) The doctor’s voice — faint, sleep-bound, and sincere — forces him to listen. The “mistake” returns, transformed into absolution. Where laughter once erased meaning, silence now restores it. The champion finally grasps that Dan’s words, whether “I love you” or “I’m sorry,” spring from the same place: care that persists despite injury.

This is why the “blue night” cannot be read as accident or madness. It is revelation. The wolf sees, perhaps for the first time, that he can be forgiven — that love, for Dan, includes compassion for his flaws. The “I’m sorry” becomes the mirror image of the earlier “I love you,” not a repetition but a correction. What Jaekyung once labeled a mistake now stands as proof of connection, as if fate itself were rewriting the joke into a prayer.

The End of a Circle

Each chapter ending in nine has marked emotional completion: chapter 9’s first gesture of care (chapter 9), 29’s confession on the couch (chapter 29), 69’s first expression of feelings in the dark (chapter 69). In chapter 79, the circle closes once more. The night’s palette tells the story — deep blue softens into violet (chapter 64) (chapter 79), the color born from the fusion of blue (Dan’s sorrow) and red (Jaekyung’s intensity). For the first time, in the penthouse the color of their relationship is not pain but balance. And now, you comprehend why in the hallway, the purple had almost vanished: (chapter 79) The light purple – lavender that once filled their world turns (chapter 66) (chapter 79) fades into the cold blue of the night. The light shifts — not toward warmth, but toward fragility. The purple, symbol of fusion, nearly disappears, leaving behind the dominant blue of isolation and fear. (chapter 79) This chromatic regression visualizes what happens next: in the hallway, both men are still haunted by their separate pain. Dan, drawn by the pull of despair and self-loathing, almost falls over the railing. Jaekyung, still guided by fear, rushes to catch him. (chapter 79)

The blue in this scene is not mere sadness — it is the residue of old wounds resurfacing. It unites them through pain rather than peace, yet this unity marks the turning point. The absence of purple is what propels the wolf to make a decision: he is about to drop his routine and as such his past believes, like for example, his life is still his first priority or he is just a shackle. He realizes that color — the life and warmth in Dan — is fading. (chapter 79) To restore it, he will have to speak, to act, and ultimately, to smile again.

What truly ends here is the Emperor’s old language. The vocabulary of orders — (chapter 79) gives way to the silent recognition of fear. When the champion admits, (chapter 79), it is a confession disguised as complaint. For the first time, he voiced his dependency and vulnerability more clearly, as his body language is no longer expressing hesitation and shyness. Imagine that so far, he had lived following the principle of “self-reliance”. Yet when Dan asks, “What?” the champion retreats: (chapter 79) His feelings collapse into the void between words. Above them, the spiral chandelier glows — the perfect symbol of their unfinished circle. His unspoken fear hangs suspended, waiting to be voiced because of someone else’s actions: the doctor’s grin (chapter 79) and fall (chapter 79) That retreat exposes a deeper fear — not of rejection, but of mockery. The man who once endured his father’s contempt and smirks (chapter 54) still equates vulnerability with humiliation. (chapter 73) In the past, every sign of weakness was punished or laughed at; even longing arrived through ridicule. Hence the “grinning” Dan of his nightmare (chapter 79) should be perceived as a distorted echo of the father’s cruel smile. And now, Jinx-philes can grasp why the wolf woke up from this “dream”. (chapter 79) The vision forces him to confront the origin of his shame. He realizes, instinctively, that the real Kim Dan would never smile at his pain — and through that recognition, he begins to separate present from past. He has already experienced a silent, but warm gaze (chapter 77) from his fated partner after admitting his defeat: (chapter 76)

In silencing or voicing his fear, Jaekyung crosses the boundary between guilt and growth. He is no longer haunted by his father’s accusations like “you’re just trash” or (chapter 73) but by a new, fragile dread: the possibility of losing the one person who would never say it. What vanishes in episode 79 is not his strength, but the belief that to need someone is to be weak.

That completion arrives at night. In his sleep, Kim Dan murmurs, (chapter 79) The two halves of their dialogue finally meet: the fear Jaekyung silenced finds its answer in the apology Dan utters unconsciously. One speaks awake but retracts; the other speaks asleep but reveals. The night itself becomes their interpreter — turning “nothing” into meaning.

Until now, Jaekyung’s remorse had lived without a voice. (chapter 78) He has long recognized his wrongdoings — the pressure, the harshness, the selfishness (chapter 76) — but guilt without self-forgiveness remains sterile. What is the point of apologizing to someone when you cannot forgive yourself? His silence, then, is not arrogance but self-condemnation. Beneath his strength lies a man who believes that no apology can redeem him, because no one ever offered him one first. His father’s mockery, his coach’s reproaches (chapter 74) and expectations, his mother’s betrayal (chapter 74), his manager’s slap at the hospital (chapter 52) — none of them ever voiced regret and said “I’m sorry.”

Fighting became his substitute for repentance. (chapter 73) Every punch was an act of self-erasure, every victory a brief anesthesia against the echo of his own self-loathing and regrets. He mistook exhaustion for atonement. But when Kim Dan whispers (chapter 79) in his sleep, something shifts. The word that once chained him to guilt now sounds different — tender, not accusatory. For the first time, he experiences apology as care, not as confession.

That is why this night matters. It teaches the champion what he was never taught: that forgiveness is not granted by punishment, but by connection and communication. Through Kim Dan’s unconscious words, he senses that he can be forgiven — that love does not vanish because of fault. He is still accepted despite his wrongdoings, not because he hides them. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung begins to believe that being loved and being imperfect can coexist. And in that fragile belief, change truly begins.

The Fall of the Angel

The dream of the wolf is not punishment — it is confession. It becomes the space where Jaekyung’s unconscious dares to speak what he hides from waking life. (chapter 79) His vision of Kim Dan’s false grin is not a taunt from the other (chapter 79), but a message from within: You shouldn’t have hidden your fear. You should have trusted me. What appears as irony is, in truth, the echo of a moment that had once wounded him — the doctor’s trembling question, (chapter 51) The dream revives that unspoken answer, revealing that what Jaekyung perceived as danger was, in fact, an offer of trust. In trying to protect himself from mockery, he denied the very connection that could have saved him. The dream reconstructs the very morning he had dismissed his vulnerability (chapter 79)— the breakfast scene (chapter 79) , the casual (chapter 79) By replaying it in this distorted form, his mind stages a confrontation with his own denial.

The wolf’s remorse takes the shape of fear. In his dream, Jaekyung finally admits that he cannot bear to lose the one person who makes him feel human (chapter 79) — yet even there, his confession is shadowed by dread. (chapter 79) The grin that startles him awake is his own projection of unhappiness and shame, the echo of the mockery he once received from his father. But the truth beneath it is different: his soul is telling him that vulnerability is not ridicule, that he must stop silencing himself.

The resemblance between dream and reality is deliberate. The kitchen reappears, the same domestic warmth, the same silence. The unconscious replays what the conscious has failed to complete — the moment he turned away instead of speaking his fear aloud. His body wakes before his mind does, moving instinctively toward redemption. When he finds Kim Dan by the railing (chapter 79), it is as if he is saving not only his partner but the part of himself that used to give up. He was living like a ghost denying his own emotions.

A few days before, the champion had called Dan’s drowning “an accident.” (chapter 78) That word revealed his blindness — the refusal to acknowledge pain that does not announce itself through wounds. The new incident at the railing shatters that illusion. It was never an accident, but the expression of mental illness (chapter 79) Both events spring from the same silent cry for help, the same exhaustion he once ignored. This time, he sees it for what it is: suffering, not weakness. The shock of recognition becomes his wake-up call — not to fight harder, but to understand deeper. The problem is that so far the champion never had a true companion, hence he has not learned how to share thoughts and emotions to others. This explicates why doc Dan is actually the one initiating the conversation. (chapter 77) (chapter 80) Each time, the physical therapist shows concerns for the athlete’s well-being. He perceives this change of behavior as the expression of unwell-being.

Symbolically, the near fall (chapter 80) represents the danger of repeating inherited unhappiness and despair — the impulse toward surrender that has haunted the doctor. Both the ocean (chapter 69), and the balcony (chapter 79) embody the same impulse — escape — yet they reveal two distinct forms of suffocation. In the sea, Kim Dan moves toward the element that promises oblivion through absorption: water swallows, erases boundaries, and offers rest through dissolution. It is the drowning of exhaustion, of someone who wishes to return to the womb of stillness. On the balcony, however, the element shifts to air — the emptiness between life and death. Falling from a high place is the asphyxiation: the lungs collapse not by immersion but by void. Both gestures — walking into the waves and leaning over the railing — spring from the same inner logic: the unbearable weight of pain and expectation. But if water and air unite, they create clouds (chapter 38) — the very image that defines Kim Dan’s being. The clouds on his phone screen are not incidental; they reflect his essence. A cloud has no home, no fixed form, forever moving, dissolving, reforming — just like the doctor’s life, endlessly displaced and redefined by others’ expectations. Clouds embody both dream and danger: they promise transcendence but conceal the storm. Besides, a cloud can fall as rain, return to the ocean, or vanish into the sky — an image of the soul that oscillates between grounding and escape.

As soon as I made this connection, I couldn’t help myself thinking of the painting in the background of chapter 37: (chapter 37) Behind the champion, the Golden Gate Bridge stands as a silent witness — a place where many have ended their lives by leaping into the void between air and water. The bridge fuses both symbols: it is where drowning and falling meet. Moreover, the bridge embodies the connection of two worlds. This backdrop, unnoticed by the protagonists themselves, prefigures the later arcs. Joo Jaekyung is the one standing between the bridge and the physical therapist. It was, as if the author was already announcing the huge depression doc Dan would face in the future. At the same time, I came to wonder if the unconscious suicidal attempts from Doc Dan were actually revealing the biggest secret in his life: the suicide of his parents and their death could be linked to a bridge. Striking is that while the members of Team Black were partying (chapter 37), death was standing behind the celebrity and this reminded me of the champion’s last genuine smile (chapter 73) before he discovered Joo Jaewoong’s corpse. The bridge thus becomes a metaphor for invisible grief: joy and pain occurring simultaneously, one masking the other. And keep in mind that according to my theory, the picture of Dan with his grandmother is hiding a tragedy. This would explain why doc Dan is so obsessed with this picture: (chapter 47) The smiles here are hiding the past reality.

But let’s return our attention to the champion’s vision in episode 79. In that same duality (water/air) lies salvation. (chapter 79) The dream that wakes Jaekyung is not a nightmare but a revelation. He senses that the smirk is not the reality, but also the mask hiding misery. The greeting from the smiling Dan (chapter 79) — so unlike his real, exhausted self — is a vision of peace, of love unburdened by fear, while this grin exposes the truth. The dream, the realm of clouds, becomes a stage where the wolf shows and learns tenderness. The dream’s fear and indirect self-reproach (chapter 79) becomes action; remorse (chapter 79) turns into rescue.

That’s how I noticed that so far, the champion never greeted his room mate with a good morning and smile in the morning. (chapter 41) In other words, the dream is giving him clues as well how to behave: not only greeting, but also talking. What caught my attention is that during their two last breakfasts together (chapter 68), they didn’t talk at all (chapter 79) which contrasts to the star’s vision.

In the dream, he had fallen to his knees — a gesture of humility and unspoken remorse. Yet in reality, the fall takes a gentler form. (chapter 79) He does not kneel; he sits, his body settling softly against the floor as he catches Dan in his arms. The man once associated with dominance becomes a cushion, a pillow, a living anchor. His strength, once used to impose weight, now exists to absorb it. The fall is not toward repentance through pain, but toward tenderness through stillness.

This inversion transforms descent into grounding. The wolf who once incited Dan to kneel (chapter 11) now becomes the one who receives the collapse. (chapter 79) His body — no longer an instrument of violence — turns into safety itself. In that moment, he is neither fighter nor emperor, but a quiet surface where another can rest. The fall that once signified defeat now marks awakening: the champion’s muscles, built for battle, finally serve their true purpose — to hold, not to harm; to bear, to protect, not to break.

The Mercy Of The False Saint

That’s how I detected another pattern. Kim Dan’s speech is tethered to touch — every genuine confession or plea emerges only when he is held. Physical contact functions as emotional permission: the body grants what words alone cannot. His first “I love you” (chapter 39) escapes him in an embrace; his (chapter 66) (chapter 66) trembles out against Jaekyung’s chest; his (chapter 79) is whispered while clinging to the same body. Even as a child (chapter 57), he could only confide while being physically comforted. The grandmother’s embrace in chapter 57 becomes the prototype of this pattern — the last instance of safety tied to voice. Yet, crucially, that embrace was conditional and silencing. She soothed him but redirected his pain: (chapter 57) Instead of validating his pain and terrible experience, she absorbed it into her own narrative of endurance. The physical comfort coexisted with emotional invalidation — he was held but not heard.

And this interpretation (the touch is triggering the doctor’s desire for communication) got even corroborated by the latest episode. (chapter 80) The moment the star was holding doc Dan’s hands, the latter started voicing more his emotions (fears, displeasure). (chapter 80) When Jaekyung takes his hands in the swimming pool, the gesture revives this primal language of reassurance. For the first time, the touch is neither coercive nor desperate; it’s sustaining. The handhold reverses the earlier dynamic — instead of silencing him, it gives him permission to speak. Furthermore, the champion is pointing out that he can rely on two things, the champion’s hands and the kickboard belt. This stands in opposition to the fake promise of Shin Okja. (chapter 57) (chapter 57) In other words, he is inciting the doctor to trust himself more and become independent. (chapter 80) (chapter 80) The champion’s words — “If you ever end up in the water, you can come back to shore as long as you know how to swim” — stand in quiet but radical opposition to the grandmother’s old reassurance: “You still have me.”
Both statements aim to comfort, yet they embody two entirely different philosophies of love. Shin Okja’s version of care was possession and control disguised as protection. Her “You still have me” offers solace by denying reality — her own mortality and it erased the boy’s suffering and loss and his capacity to cope. It promises stability but at the cost of autonomy: he is safe only through her. Love, in her logic, means dependence. Jaekyung’s line, by contrast, offers trust instead of control. (chapter 80) His comfort does not deny danger — he acknowledges the possibility of falling into the water — but he links survival to skill, not assistance and dependency. His statement affirms Dan’s agency: he can save himself. Once he can swim, he is strong enough. Where the grandmother sought to replace the absent parents (chapter 65), the champion seeks to restore the missing confidence.

This is why the swimming lesson in chapter 80 carries so much symbolic weight. It is not only about overcoming fear of water, but about learning to float between love and self-sufficiency. (chapter 80) He just needs to learn and trust his own body and skills. For the first time, someone tells Kim Dan that he doesn’t need to cling to live. The wolf’s hands do not promise eternal rescue; they teach assurance and confidence.

Through this opposition, Mingwa traces the transformation of care in Jinx: from the grandmother’s pitying dependency to Jaekyung’s empowering faith. The very moment the wolf steadies his trembling fingers, the doctor begins to voice his worries and fears, words that previously only surfaced through sleepwalking or half-conscious murmurs. That’s why I believe that this embrace (chapter 80) in the swimming pool carries transformative potential. It is not merely a gesture of survival, but an initiation into honesty. Surrounded by water, both men are stripped of pretense. And observe that Joo Jaekyung is not rejecting the physical embrace (chapter 80) contrary to the past. (chapter 28) (chapter 69) The wolf, who once relied on dominance and silence, is now allowing his fated partner to hug him. (chapter 80) He accepts his vulnerability and struggles. In the swimming pool, the athlete is also learning to reassure instead of command. Dan, who has long associated touch with consolation and suppression, begins to experience it as safety and trust.

In that moment, their bodies speak what their words still resist: trust me. (chapter 80) The embrace might become the very impulse that pushes them toward verbal honesty — toward saying what they have long hidden. For Dan, it means learning to voice his needs and desires without shame; for Jaekyung, it means acknowledging his feelings without fear of losing control or strength.

But let’s return our attention to the physical therapist’s childhood. (chapter 57) Dan came later to associate love with contradiction: touch equals permission to speak, yet speaking never brings resolution. His psyche learned that disclosure leads nowhere — the listener (the grandmother) offers affection, not change. That’s the reason why he came to suppress his thoughts and emotions and project onto his grandmother. Her way of dealing with pain was denial, rooted in her own fear of trouble and probably social judgment. From my point of view, it is related to the secrecy surrounding the family’s past.

Furthermore, for the hamster, the embrace is more than comfort — it is survival. (chapter 21) From childhood onward, being held becomes the only assurance that the world still contains care. When he woke crying and was taken into his grandmother’s arms (chapter 21), the patting gesture did not merely quiet his fear; it taught him that consolation requires contact. Yet this early lesson carried a hidden cost: it trained him to associate peace with submission and silence, and affection with dependency. Therefore the swimming lesson contains another important life lesson: it is about choice! Joo Jaekyung wants to be “chosen” by the physical therapist, hence he wants to conquer his heart. (chapter 80) That’s the reason why he can not change doc Dan’s heart and mind with the new clothes. For that, he needs to reveal his “weakness” to the physical therapist.

When the puppy died, Dan instinctively tried to recreate that lost safety. (chapter 59) His hand resting on Boksoon’s fur repeats the same motion — the pat once given to him, now returned to another being in pain. What he offers the animal is precisely what he has always longed for: warmth without judgment, touch without condition.

This explains why every later confession — “I love you,” “Don’t leave me,” “I’m sorry” — is born inside an embrace. Speech emerges only when his body feels that safety again. Yet, until now, the wolf’s touch has never been a true confession. The wolf initially held him through instinct (chapter 4), not intention: a reflex of possession, not communication. As time passed on, it changed, yet in the bathtub (chapter 68), Dan fell asleep against him so that he could never experience the athlete’s care (chapter 68); in the morning, Jaekyung acted as though nothing had happened. Then on the dock, Joo Jaekyung expressed his relief (chapter 69), yet he never explained the reason behind his behavior. Besides, he removed himself from Doc Dan very quickly. There was no continuity between touch and word, no bridge from body to heart. The embrace between them was marked by silence.

Only now, in the night of chapter 79, does that change. (chapter 79) The embrace that once silenced finally begins to speak. Dan’s trembling body against Jaekyung’s chest reactivates all those buried associations — fear, need, longing — but this time, the silence is attentive. The champion listens. The gesture that once merely soothed now confesses.

When Shin Okja finally apologizes (chapter 53), she frames her guilt in terms of debt, not grief. What she cannot say is: “I’m sorry your parents are gone, and I buried the truth.” Her compassion never touches the core wound. Instead, she redirects her remorse into pity (chapter 65), a safer, one-sided emotion that keeps her in control. Pity allows her to appear virtuous while avoiding responsibility. It transforms shared pain into hierarchy: she the giver, he the grateful recipient.

This emotional economy defines Kim Dan’s childhood. He was loved through guilt, not through recognition. Every tender gesture — the pat on the head (chapter 57), the hug after bullying — carries the unspoken message: “You’re unfortunate, but you still have me.” That is not empathy; as she is not showing any sign of distress and pain. In my eyes, it is containment. It keeps the child dependent, silent, and bound by gratitude.

Hence, her confession to the celebrity (chapter 65) reveal the same mechanism. The focus remains on her heart, her pain, her goodness, not on his loss. She centers herself within his tragedy. Pity becomes a mask for unacknowledged guilt — perhaps linked to the parents’ disappearance or to choices she justified under social pressure. Her “mercy” is, in truth, a way to maintain her moral purity at the cost of his emotional autonomy.

Through this lens, it becomes clear why Dan needs reciprocal touch to speak. Pity silenced him; touch, when offered without pity, finally frees his voice. This is why the doctor’s embrace in episode 79 marks such a decisive turning point: it is the first time doc Dan is holding someone and that person is taking his words and pain seriously. The champion does not silence or reinterpret what he hears; he simply receives it. For the first time, Dan’s trembling voice is met not with pity, denial, or instruction — but with presence. (chapter 79)

Finally, this moment also exposes Jaekyung’s awakening. Until now, he had followed the grandmother’s advice as if it were gospel: (chapter 65); “bring him to a big hospital so that he can take pills” (chapter 65) (chapter 65) He trusted her words and advises. I would even add that he believed that compliance equaled real care. Yet the night by the balcony teaches him otherwise. (chapter 79) Despite doing everything the “saintly” grandmother prescribed, Dan is still suffering. The illusion collapses: her mercy never healed, it merely concealed. Interesting is that she never brought up to the athlete the doctor’s loss of weight in front of the ocean. Yet, she had noticed it. (chapter 57). Everything evolved around his lack of sleep and his dependency on her. (chapter 65) However, in episode 79, for the first time, the champion notices it. (chapter 79) It is important because very early on, the doctor Cheolmin had already detected his malnutrition: (chapter 13) In other words, the physical therapist’s depression and eating disorder were already existent before meeting the “wolf”. And what did the mysterious friend tell to the “wolf”? He shouldn’t wait out of fear that he might regret it later! (chapter 13) As you can see, “sorry” is the link between the two doctors and the celebrity.

Thus, the “wolf” realizes that love cannot be delegated to duty. (chapter 79) What Dan needs is not obedience to the old woman’s script, but presence, dialogue, and trust. The champion must now do what she never did — look at pain without denial, listen without pity, and finally speak from the heart. This means that after that night, the wolf will gradually change not only his vocabulary, but also his tone and gestures. His metamorphosis will be complete with the birth of the kind and sweet Joo Jaekyung! (chapter 21) Imagine that I had written this part before the release of episode 80!

The secret behind doc Dan’s room

Another detail caught my attention in episode 79 which was confirmed with the publication of episode 80. Doc Dan’s bedroom has always been associated with illness and as such rest! (chapter 21) (chapter 29) (chapter 61) Hence it is no coincidence that while sleeping in his own bedroom, the physical therapist had a relapse. (chapter 79) Because the champion had come to the conclusion that his own bedchamber was linked to sex (chapter 78) and as such “wrongdoings”, the next day, he must have suggested to doc Dan to sleep together in his bed. This explicates why both main leads are sleeping in doc Dan’s bedroom at the end of episode 78: (chapter 78) This shows that the star is listening more and more to his fated partner (chapter 78) And though he had another “accident”, the former is never bringing it up to doc Dan. There’s no blame or accusation. The athlete is keeping these accidents as secrets. However, pay attention that he is making sure that doc Dan is resting. (chapter 80) Notice that he joined him later, acting as if they had not shared the same bed. Gradually, the champion is giving back doc Dan’s freedom and privacy. He is guiding him to take care better of himself by using his own words. (chapter 27) Striking is that the champion always chose the left side of the bed (chapter 79), while he came to sleep much better, when he slept on the other side of the bed: (chapter 66) Thus I deduce that doc Dan is destined to take over his grandmother’s position in the bed: (chapter 21) And this observation seems to be validated by chapter 80. (chapter 80) The star was sitting on the right side of the bed while watching his sleeping partner. Why? It is because he can see his face. But by lying on the left side, doc Dan came to turn his back to him. (chapter 78) But if they switch places, the wolf should be able to watch his partner’s face. And now, pay attention to the way Mingwa placed the new embrace in the swimming pool: (chapter 80) Doc Dan is placed on the left side…. and that’s where the heart is placed. Doc Dan’s racing heart is displaying not only the revival of his repressed affection for the champion, but also his desire to live. He is not truly suicidal, as all his attempts were unconscious choices.

The second “accident”

I have to admit that after reading this image (chapter 78), it was clear to me that the doctor would make a new suicidal attempt during his sleep walking. I was already anticipating him to go to the rooftop, thus the new incident didn’t catch me by surprise. Yet, chapter 79 gave us an important clue about doc Dan’s dissociative state (sleepwalking). They were all triggered: (chapter 79) Because of the champion’s cold gaze, doc Dan felt rejected and even hated. (chapter 79) He had the impression that he wouldn’t meet his “expectations”. Observe the parallels between the champion’s dream (chapter 79) and the doctor’s reply in front of Shin Okja: (chapter 57) We have the doctor’s fake smile which is strongly linked to rejection (chapter 57) and expectations. And what is the other common denominator? His self-loathing and immense guilt. He has the feeling that he is not lovable. In my opinion, doc Dan is suffering because no one is listening to him at all. So far, they all projected their own thoughts onto him. The reality is that doc Dan already had a hard time before moving to the seaside town, (chapter 11) yet she failed to notice it or refused to face his struggles, as they were related to their poverty.

Because he lived alone for a long time without any physical touch (chapter 5), he lost his voice and became a ghost. It is no coincidence that in this scene, doc Dan was silent despite the caress. He was avoiding any topic that could trouble his grandmother. He accepted to remain a little boy in her eyes. But thanks to the wolf, doc Dan is learning to become strong and independent so that he can decide about his life. The swimming lesson is pushing him to overcome his abandonment issues.

The Songs of Change

While I was on my way to visit my son ( a 6 hours trip), I listened to an old CD from French singer Jean-Louis Aubert entitled Ideal Standard. While listening to the music, three songs — “On vit d’amour,” “On aime comme on a été aimé,” and “Parle-moi” caught my attention. They reminded me a lot of the main couple.

If the previous night (chapter 79) marked the end of a circle, then the next day announces a new rhythm — one that no longer follows the tempo of fighting or guilt, but of tenderness. These 3 songs form a hidden soundtrack to this transformation. They mirror, with startling precision, the inner journey of the champion and his fated companion.

1. “On vit d’amour” — Living on Love

On vit d’amour / Et d’eau fraîche / On vit d’amour, de rien du tout…
We live on love and fresh water / We live on love, on almost nothing at all.

On vit d’amour FrenchWe live on Love English
On vit d’amour
Dans le regard des autres
On vit d’amour
Dans le mien et le votre
On vit d’amour
Quand il n’y a plus d’eau fraiche

On vit d’amour
Tout au fond de la dèche

Laisse le briller
Éclairer
Laisse le venir
Laisse le aller

Car on vit d’amour
On vit d’amour
Sous le bong et les pluies

On vit d’amour
Dans la boue et la suie
On vit d’amour
Jusqu’au bout de la nuit

Laisse le briller
Éclairer
Laisse le venir
Laisse le aller
Laisse lui vivre sa vie d’amour
Car on vit d’amour
On vit d’amour

Je mens, j’aime tant ta main


On vit d’amour
Et je bois à ta bouche
On vit d’amour
On vit d’amour
Toujours

Laisse le briller
Éclairer
Laisse le venir
Laisse le aller
Laisse à l’amour sa liberté

On vit d’amour
On vit d’amour
On vit d’amour
On en vivra
Toujours (2*)

Laisse le briller
Éclairer
Laisse le venir
Laisse le aller
Laisse lui vivre sa vie d’amour
We live on love
In the eyes of others
We live on love
In mine and in yours
We live on love
When there’s no more fresh water
We live on love
At the very depth of poverty
Let it shine,
Let it light,
Let it come,
Let it go.
For we live on love,
We live on love
Under the bong and the rain,
We live on love
In the mud and the soot,
We live on love
All the way through the night.
Let it shine,
Let it light,
Let it come,
Let it go,
Let it live its own life of love,
For we live on love,
We live on love.
I lie — I so love your hand,
We live on love,
And I drink from your mouth,
We live on love,
We live on love,
Forever.
Let it shine,
Let it light,
Let it come,
Let it go,
Let love have its freedom.
(We
Live on love, we
Live on love, we
Live on love,
And we’ll live on it
Forever.)

This refrain captures the quiet revelation at the heart of Jinx: love is sustenance.
Until now, Jaekyung has lived on adrenaline, duty, and pride — mistaking physical dominance for vitality. His meals with Dan were about nutrition (chapter 79), not communion; his affection, an extension of performance (chapter 79). Yet as the doctor grows thinner and more exhausted, the wolf begins to understand what “starvation” truly means. (chapter 79) Dan’s body becomes a metaphor for their shared deficiency — not of food, but of warmth. Although the athlete’s actions were all well-meant, he failed to touch doc Dan’s heart due to the way he spoke to his loved one: (chapter 79)

In On vit d’amour, Aubert contrasts material survival with emotional survival. “We live on love and almost nothing” rejects the capitalist or competitive logic that defines Jaekyung’s world (MFC, rankings, contracts). The line speaks instead to the simplicity of presence — the kind of nourishment that Dan quietly provides through care, routine, and wordless understanding. No wonder why the athlete failed to move doc Dan’s heart by offering so many clothes in episode 80.

This song thus signals the first shift: Jaekyung begins to eat differently — not just at the table, but emotionally. The wolf who once devoured life is gradually learning to taste it through love.

2. “On aime comme on a été aimé” — We Love as We Have Been Loved

On aime comme on a été aimé We love as we have been loved. English translation
On n’invente pas un sentiment
Les baisers donnent l’alphabet
L’amour nous griffe
Ouvre ses plaies
L’amour nous soigne
L’amour nous fait
On aime comme on a été aimé

C’est cela qui nous fait courir
De reproduire et faire grandir
Ce qui nous a été donné
Sans jamais pouvoir en parler
On aime comme on a été aimé

C’est dans les mains de nos parents
C’est dans les coeurs de nos amants
Regard aimé, regard aimant
C’est le plus clair de notre temps
Le plus obscur de nos tourments
On n’apprend pas un sentiment
Même si on veut faire autrement
On aime comme on a été aimé

On dit les chiens n’font pas des chats
Et que l’on est que c’qu’on connait
Qu’on désire ce qu’on n’connait pas
Un autre chien, un autre chat
On aime comme on a été aimé

Toutes ces secondes de tendresse
Dérobées à  l’emporte-pièce
Toutes les claques, les maladresses
Pour que ça dure, pour que ça cesse
On aime comme on a été aimé

C’est dans les mains de nos parents
C’est dans les bras de nos amants
C’est dans les yeux de nos enfants
C’est le plus clair de notre temps
Le plus obscur de nos tourements
On n’invente pas un sentiment
Même si on veut faire autrement
On aime comme on a été aimé

Et j’aime comme tu m’as aimé
We don’t invent a feeling.
Kisses give us the alphabet.
Love scratches us,
Opens its wounds,
Love heals us,
Love makes us.
We love as we have been loved.

That’s what makes us run —
To reproduce and to grow
What was once given to us,
Without ever being able to speak of it.
We love as we have been loved.

It’s in the hands of our parents,
It’s in the hearts of our lovers.
A loved gaze, a loving gaze —
It’s the clearest part of our days,
The darkest part of our torment.
You don’t learn a feeling,
Even when you want to do otherwise.
We love as we have been loved.

They say dogs don’t make cats,
And that we are only what we know,
That we desire what we do not know —
Another dog, another cat.
We love as we have been loved.

All those fleeting seconds of tenderness,
Stolen in haste,
All the slaps, all the clumsy gestures —
So that it lasts, or so that it ends.
We love as we have been loved.

It’s in the hands of our parents,
It’s in the arms of our lovers,
It’s in the eyes of our children.
It’s the clearest part of our days,
The darkest part of our torment.
We don’t invent a feeling,
Even when we want to do otherwise.
We love as we have been loved.

And I love as you have loved me.

On aime comme on a été aimé / On hait comme on a été haï…
We love as we have been loved / We hate as we have been hated.

This lyric exposes the chain both men must break. The author’s line suggests that love is not spontaneous but inherited — modeled through wounds and care. In his childhood, Jaekyung learned rather hatred and misguided affection as domination, silence, lies and endurance, while Dan learned it as sacrifice and appeasement in his grandmother’s care. Both were taught that affection or recognition was not free — through obedience, perfection, or pain.

Throughout Jinx, each reenacts the love they received: the champion demands submission, the therapist offers self-effacement. Yet chapter 79 introduces a turning point — they begin to unlearn this inheritance. (chapter 79) The unconscious apology “I’m sorry, Mr. Joo” is not submission; it is vulnerability freely given. The wolf’s fears in his sleep are not weakness (chapter 79); they are an echo of the love and tenderness he never received.

In this sense, Aubert’s line becomes prophetic: to love differently, they must be loved differently first. This means that b spending time with each other, they will learn how to love each other properly. This is the essence of growth: transforming the very grammar of intimacy they once feared. The story becomes a re-education of the heart — the rewriting of emotional syntax. And episode 80 is the perfect illustration for this change. In love we can make mistakes, but it is important to detect them and learn from them.

3. “Parle-moi” — Talk to Me

Parle-moi, parle-moi de toi / Qu’est-ce que tu veux, qui tu es, où tu vas…
Talk to me, talk to me about yourself / What do you want, who are you, where are you going…

Parle-moi, parle-moi de nous / Tous les deux, qu’est-ce qu’on veut, qu’est-ce qu’on fout…
Talk to me, talk to me about us / The two of us, what do we want, what are we doing…

Parle-moi Talk to Me
Parle-moi
Ce qui nous vient
Nous vient de loi
Ce qui nous tient
Jamais ne nous appartient vraiment

Ce qui nous tue
Gagné, perdu
Ce qu’on a cru
On en a perdu la vue vraiment

Parle-moi, parle-moi de toi
Qu’est-ce tu veux, qui tu es
Où tu vas

Parle-moi, parle-moi de toi
Qu’est-ce tu dis, fais entendre
Ta voix

Ce qu’on nous vend
Ce qu’on nous prend
Mais qu’est-ce qui nous prend
On dirait qu’on a plus l’ temps
A rien
Perdu de vue
Perdu tout court
Peau tendre, coeur pur
On dirait qu’on a plus l’ goût
A rien

Parle-moi, parle-moi de toi
Parle-moi de tes doutes de tes choix
Parle-moi, parle-moi de toi
Qu’est-ce tu dis, plus fort
J’entends pas
Parle-moi de toi

Alors parle-moi, parle-moi de nous
Tous les deux, qu’est-ce qu’on veut
Qu’est-ce qu’on fout
Parle-moi, parle-moi de nous
Avec toi j’irai n’importe où
Parle-moi de toi
What comes to us
Comes from afar.
What holds us
Never truly belongs to us.

What kills us —
Won or lost,
What we once believed —
We’ve truly lost sight of it.

Talk to me, talk to me about you.
What do you want, who are you,
Where are you going?

Talk to me, talk to me about you.
What do you say?
Let me hear your voice.

What they sell us,
What they take from us —
But what’s gotten into us?
It feels like we no longer
Have time for anything.
Lost from sight,
Lost altogether —
Tender skin, pure heart.
It feels like we no longer
Have the taste for anything.

Talk to me, talk to me about you.
Talk to me about your doubts, your choices.
Talk to me, talk to me about you.
What are you saying? Louder —
I can’t hear you.
Talk to me about you.

So talk to me, talk to me about us —
The two of us, what do we want,
What are we doing?
Talk to me, talk to me about us.
With you, I’d go anywhere.
Talk to me about you.

This is the anthem of the new cycle — the song of conversation.
In the beginning, Jaekyung’s language was pure command: “ (chapter 38) (chapter 79) ,” eat” . (chapter 79) His speech created hierarchy, not connection. Aubert’s plea, “Parle-moi”, reverses this logic: it is a call to dialogue, to mutual self-revelation. It embodies exactly what Jaekyung’s dream anticipates — the moment when he will learn to speak with Dan, not at him.

When, in the vision, Dan smiles and says (chapter 79) the tone has changed entirely. The greeting is not fearful or dutiful; it is gentle, open, normal — the image of domestic peace. The dream thus becomes prophetic: language, once the instrument of control, will become a bridge.

Aubert’s words — “Parle-moi de tes doutes, de tes choix” — invite the very vulnerability Jaekyung has never practiced. The wolf who only barked commands must now learn to whisper doubts. The day he speaks softly — “Parle-moi” — will be the day his transformation is complete. Moreover, observe that his repeated plea, “Parle-moi” (“Talk to me”), moves from singular to plural — from me to us. The pronoun shift is decisive: it marks the passage from individual solitude to the possibility of relationship. As long as the “me” dominates, there is distance; only when they learn to say “us” can love begin to exist as dialogue, not projection.

This last strophe, where me dissolves into nous, mirrors precisely where Jaekyung and Dan now stand. They share space, touch, even breath — but not yet language. They might be sharing the same bed, but they don’t talk really to each other and confide to each other. (chapter 80) So far, the nights were full of gestures, yet empty of conversation. Jaekyung would often command and Dan accept everything. Words, when spoken, were often either wounds or vanished into silence. Thus, Aubert’s refrain becomes prophetic: as long as they do not talk, they cannot become a couple.

The line “Avec toi j’irai n’importe où” (“With you, I’d go anywhere”) contains both promise and condition. It imagines a future that depends on mutual speech. To “go anywhere” is not to flee, but to move together — something the two protagonists have never managed. Their shared journey remains suspended in the present, circling between misunderstanding and longing. The dream in chapter 79 — where Dan finally greets him with a smile and a “Good morning, Mr. Joo” (chapter 79) is the first glimpse of this future tense, a promise that conversation will one day replace command. Strangely, this observation was confirmed the new episode:

For now, the song stands as both prophecy and warning: without dialogue, they remain me and you, parallel solitudes orbiting the same pain. There’s still no “we” between them yet. Only when Jaekyung learns to parler — not shout, not order, but truly speak — will me become us, and their love find a voice strong enough to last.

A Chanson of Renewal

Taken together, the three songs form a triptych of metamorphosis:

  • “On vit d’amour” teaches Jaekyung that love is nourishment and a source of happiness, not distraction.
  • “On aime comme on a été aimé” forces both men to face the ghosts of their past and their abandonment/trust issues so that they can love their partner properly.
  • “Parle-moi” charts the path forward — communication as redemption.

They are not merely songs; they are stages of awakening.
From hunger to empathy, from repetition to reinvention, from silence to speech — Aubert’s lyrics sketch the same arc that Jinx now traces.

If Jaekyung once fought to dominate the world, he now fights to pronounce gentleness correctly. And when he finally dares to speak — not as a champion, but as a man who listens — he will fulfill the promise implicit in Aubert’s refrain:

“Avec toi j’irai n’importe où” — With you, I’d go anywhere.

The biggest wish doc Dan has is to go on a trip and walk through the woods with a loved one. The old circle closes; the new begins — not with a punch, but with a word.

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

Jinx: I Love You 💗📞

Introduction The First “I Love You” He Sees

Why isn’t the first champion’s “I love you” spoken, but seen? (chapter 75) – similar to doc Dan’s reaction in the States: (chapter 40) (chapter 53)

At dawn in ch. 75, Jaekyung first sees a vision: Kim Dan bathed in sunlight, turning back as if to wait for him. The image radiates warmth, inclusion, and patience. (chapter 75) It stands not only for Dan, but for something Jaekyung has never allowed himself: a dream, a future. This makes it the direct opposite of his nightmares. (chapter 75) Where his father’s curses bound him to guilt and the past, Dan’s glow opens the possibility of release (chapter 75), a life that points forward rather than backward.

Then he jolts awake. (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) This is the first time he escapes his inner prison: no strangling, no mockery, no gasping for breath. The sequence is everything: the vision symbolizes true awakening. First comes the dream of the future, then the breath of life.

And what does that light reveal? Not a tidy word, but a re‑ordered world: Dan matters more than winning. (chapter 75) Why? It is because the physical therapist embodies warmth and the present, while the shining championship belt is in reality cold. The Emperor who once fought to silence curses realizes, before he can name it, that the man in that sunlight outranks every belt and roar. (chapter 75)

And here the director’s advice echoes: (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.

Yet one might wonder: why does Hwang Byungchul not mention Dan directly? It is clear that he has already sensed that both have a deeper relationship than one between a physical therapist and a VIP client. (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 75) The word something points beyond possession. True fulfillment is not about having a purpose but about sharing a path. Secondly, by remaining vague, he respects his former pupil’s privacy. A parent would never try to pry into the relationship of their child. (chapter 65)

This is why the dream immediately answers the advice: (chapter 75) in it, Dan stands not beside the champion but in front of him, waiting. The director spoke of something, but Jaekyung sees someone. Dan becomes the embodiment of a life that could be lived otherwise: a future not chained to victory or guilt, but grounded in companionship, in love.

Yet Jaekyung cannot name it. His reaction trails into ellipses (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) Dan’s expression is neutral, non-judgmental, steady — the exact opposite of the father’s disdain (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.

That neutrality is powerful because it creates hope. (chapter 75) For the first time, Jaekyung can imagine stepping toward someone without ridicule or rejection. The dream shows him the path: he doesn’t have to keep running, fighting, or proving — he only has to take a step toward the figure already turned back to include him.

And this is precisely where the director’s wisdom lies. His line (chapter 75) is not prescriptive. He doesn’t dictate what Jaekyung should do, or who he should live for. He gives no ready-made solution, no “perfect answer.” Instead, he hands the responsibility back to him, urging him to search within himself. (chapter 75) The openness is what makes it love — it is respect.

This stands in direct opposition to the grandmother’s stance, who knew exactly how to “treat” doc Dan. (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 75) In other words, the director becomes not just a critic of Jaekyung’s path, but his first true encourager. He acknowledges that the boy he once failed to guide has grown into a man capable of guiding himself.

The vision is striking for another reason: it is silent. Dan does not speak in the dream; his gaze offers no command, no reassurance, no demand. It simply waits. The silence is not emptiness but invitation — a space Jaekyung must learn to fill. Yet how can he do so? How can a man who has only ever known curses, discipline, or burdens step closer to someone whose presence asks for words he has never spoken?

This is the paradox that chapter 75 exposes. (chapter 75) The dream reveals that Dan matters more than winning, but it also confronts Jaekyung with his greatest weakness: he does not know how to name what he feels, nor how to reach across that silence. To understand why, we must look back — to the voices that shaped him, and to the words that were withheld.

The Language He Never Learned

The vision of Kim Dan in chapter 75 is powerful not only for what it shows, but for what it withholds: it is silent. Dan does not speak, and yet the silence does not feel empty. His gaze is calm, patient, steady — waiting for Jaekyung to make a move. But this is precisely what paralyzes him. (chapter 75) The silence of the dream is an invitation, a space Jaekyung must fill. Yet what words can he offer? How can he step closer, when his whole life has taught him that love is something either cursed, withdrawn, or conditional?

The truth is that Jaekyung never learned the language of love. He never heard the words “I love you” — not from father, not from mother, not from any adult in his orbit. What he inherited instead were fragments of distorted speech: mockery, resignation, silence, punches or fake admiration. Each left him with a gap where affirmation should have been, forcing him to seek recognition through victories, money, and survival.

The Father’s Curse: Mockery Instead of Affirmation

From his father he learned scorn. The drunken insults — (chapter 73) “You’re a loser”, You’re your mother’s son after all” (chapter 73) did not simply belittle him; they reshaped his very self-image into a curse. To resemble his mother meant weakness, failure, abandonment. He was nothing except “trash” or a “moron”. Each word struck like a blow, leaving Jaekyung gasping in his nightmares, hearing the taunts repeat like an incantation. His father’s language was not the speech of love but of annihilation, convincing him that he was destined to lose, destined to suffocate, destined to be nothing.

This is why victory became his obsession. (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.

The Mother’s Silence: Love as Need, Not Being

If the father wounded with curses, the mother wounded with silence. (chapter 73) In the father’s recollection, she is shown turned away, holding the child not in tenderness but as a shield against her husband. She does not speak. There is no tap (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.

Her last words to him before abandoning him (chapter 75) carry the same cold logic. On the surface, they sound like recognition, even encouragement. But their true meaning is dismissal: you no longer need me. For her, love equaled dependency. Once her role as provider was no longer necessary, she withdrew.

Later, with her remarriage, we see her repeat the same pattern. (chapter 74) With her new child, she suddenly has gentle taps, toys, and the affectionate “dear.” But these are not signs of transformation — they are repetitions. Her “love” remains bound to function. This child is valuable because he secures her place, her role, her new family. He is an anchor of stability, not a being affirmed in his own right. According to me, she lives through others.

Here Erich Fromm’s distinction between having and being illuminates her behavior. [For more read the essay “The Art Of Loving”– locked] She cannot love by being present with another; she can only love by having something to hold onto — a husband, a child, a household. For Jaekyung, this meant that his very existence was never affirmed. When he outgrew dependency, he ceased to “count.” He embodied a failure in her life, something she wanted to erase. Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why Kim Dan challenged the champion in the hotel room: (chapter 67) His question is really an appeal for recognition. If Jaekyung answered yes, Dan could interpret it as proof of love, because in his own distorted framework being worried about equals being cared for. But Jaekyung answered with silence. (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,

This silence is therefore not just personal, but inherited. Just as his mother’s withdrawal taught him that once a child stops needing, they stop being loved, Jaekyung reenacts the same absence with Dan. He cannot yet affirm him as more than useful, even though his presence unsettles him precisely because it is more than that. Dan’s question names the void: he asks Jaekyung to translate provision into affection, and Jaekyung cannot. That ellipsis is the echo of a life raised without “I love you”.

The Phone Call: “Who Are You?”

Nothing illustrates this more starkly than the phone call. When Jaekyung reaches out as a teenager, his mother responds: (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.

And tragically, Jaekyung falls into the same trap. He offers her money (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.

But beneath this maternal echo lies another inheritance: the patriarchal mindset of his father. (chapter 73) From him, Jaekyung absorbed the conviction that a man must be the provider, the protector, the one who works and sacrifices while the partner silently follows. This explains why, in his relationship with his mother (chapter 72) and Kim Dan, he instinctively assumed he had to “do it all”: earn, fight, shield, control. (chapter 42) His father’s voice was violent and scornful, but its framework remained lodged in him.

This dynamic also recalls the director’s mother, who devoted herself unconditionally to her son. (chapter 74) She has no name, because she is simply reduced to a role: mother. She offered food and care, but never voiced her own wishes. She silently bore the weight of her choice, just as Jaekyung’s mother once shielded herself with her child instead of speaking. Both figures embody the same pattern: women reduced to roles, never permitted desire. However, there is a huge difference between these two mother figures; the champion’s mother chose to leave, the moment her husband did not meet her expectation. And Jaekyung, internalizing this pattern, grew into a man who could only imagine love as one-sided duty — he provides, the other depends. But now, doc Dan is no longer willing to be treated that way. That’s why he chose to adopt the role of a prostitute after their reunion. (chapter 62) That way, he can still be “free”.

But this exchange also marks a threshold. (chapter 74) The moment Jaekyung begins to discover being with Dan — joy, play, presence, companionship — (chapter 75) the mother’s entire system collapses. He cannot live in both worlds. To live in being means to abandon her for good, because her form of love will never change. Besides, they have long gone separate ways. Thus I see the vision of doc Dan as a future partner, where both characters will walk side by side! This announces the arrival of equity and real communication.

Trash as Metaphor: The Child Discarded

Her abandoned home, strewn with garbage, (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.

Her tragedy is repetition. The remarriage, the second child, the affectionate taps and “dears” — all of it looks like growth on the surface (chapter 74), but in truth it reveals her imprisonment in the same mindset. She has not changed. She still defines herself by being needed, by having. She lives through others. And Jaekyung, by recognizing this, gains his first real emancipation. That’s why he destroyed the cellphone. (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)

Park Namwook: I’ll help you

Into this pattern steps Park Namwook, who initially cloaked his ambition in the language of encouragement. (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 72), because silence at home had taught him that the only way to hold on to love was to provide, protect, and prove his usefulness. Under Namwook, this belief hardened into a rule: in his world, attachment became synonymous with utility.

This distortion explains much of Jaekyung’s later behavior. If someone claims to love, they must prove it through tangible action. Affection that doesn’t translate into help feels like a lie. Because Heesung mentioned “loving” Dan (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.

The tragedy is double. First, Namwook’s corrupted version of “help” left Jaekyung vulnerable to exploitation. Second, it blinded him to other languages of love — words, presence, patience — so that when Dan tries to love him differently (chapter 45), Jaekyung struggled to even recognize it. Giving him a gift and expressing gratitude was not “helping the fighter”.

But beneath the illusion lies self-interest. Namwook’s “help” was contingent upon Jaekyung’s usefulness — his talent, his earning power, his ability to bring fame. Just as the mother’s affection was tied to need, and the father’s recognition bound to victory, Namwook’s loyalty was tethered to what Jaekyung could provide. He did not love the man; he loved the champion’s potential, the profit and prestige attached to his fists.

This makes Namwook part of the same lineage of distorted caregivers:

  • Father: curses that turned into chains.
  • Mother: silence disguised as maturity (“you’re grown-up now”).
  • Halmoni (Dan’s): burdens disguised as devotion (debts, sacrifice, favor).
  • Namwook: exploitation disguised as encouragement (“I’ll help you”).

All promised some version of care, but none delivered unconditional love. All instrumentalized him — whether as proof, shield, provider, or weapon.

And here the contrast with the director becomes stark. The director does not say I’ll help you” or “let’s make history together.” He does not tie Jaekyung’s value to his strength and his own ambition. Instead, he says: (chapter 75) There’s a life outside the ring and the spotlight. (chapter 75) He does not attach himself to Jaekyung’s victories but releases him into freedom. His love, belated as it is, is non-possessive. It is because he has learned his “lessons”. He realized that his dream (chapter 72) was quite futile, for at the end, he ended up alone and felt lonely.

At this point, one must ask: why didn’t the director, Hwang Byungchul, say those words either? The answer is not that he feels nothing, but first he fears exposing his vulnerability and emotions. Therefore he yelled and challenged the champion. (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.

In this sense, the director and Jaekyung are alike: both have never learned the language of love as affirmation. They can only circle it through substitution — advice, provision, worry, discipline, help. (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 75) No wonder why he asked for doc Dan’s company. (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”.

The Silence He Must Fill

This is why the vision of Dan is so striking. (chapter 75) Dan does not speak, but his gaze does not condemn or demand. It simply waits. It offers inclusion without conditions, presence without burden. The silence is not a void but an invitation. For the first time, Jaekyung is faced not with curses, not with resignation, not with demands, but with the possibility of acceptance. He just needs to be himself.

And yet, this makes the challenge greater: he must now learn to fill that silence. He cannot rely on victory, or money, or survival. He must discover a language that has never been spoken to him: the language of I love you.

The Language Kim Dan Cannot Speak

If Jaekyung’s tragedy is that he never learned to say I love you, he also needs to love himself first. He can not imagine how someone could ever say to him: “I love you”. This explicates why the athlete asked the doctor if he remembered that night in the States. (chapter 41) He didn’t know how to judge such a confession. Hence these words were reduced to a mistake! (chapter 41) To conclude, he couldn’t accept the confession, because he doesn’t love himself. He has never heard I love you in his childhood. Thus I believe that Dan’s tragedy is the mirror opposite: he did hear it once (chapter 19), and has been unable to say it since.

Dan already whispered the words — (chapter 39) — but it was under the haze of the drug. His instincts and body spoke first, bypassing the rational mind that usually silences him. In that moment, the words were pure, perhaps the most honest thing he has ever said. And yet, their context corrupted them. Spoken in a fog, they became easy to erase. Later, when Jaekyung pressed him about that night (chapter 41), Dan claimed he didn’t remember. But is it true? In doing so, he turned his own confession into what Jaekyung dismissed as “a mistake.” The first I love you in Jinx was thus swallowed twice: once by chemicals, and once by shame and fear. The physical therapist associates “I love you” with abandonment and rejection.

Why such negative emotions? My hypothesis is that for Dan, I love you does not mean reassurance or joy, rather it is strongly linked to the destruction of a world. It carries the echo of absence, of people who once said those words but then vanished. It is bound to guilt, because the boy left behind always wonders if he could have noticed the signs, if he could have done something. To confess love, for him, is to summon catastrophe, to risk repeating the ultimate loss. Better to stay silent than to relive that moment.

My reading is that Dan’s parents died suddenly, perhaps by suicide, and with them he lost not only family but also home. (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.

He never had the chance to answer back. (chapter 19) His silence froze into permanence, leaving him with the haunting sense that love was unfinished, that his part of the dialogue was missing. This explains his adult paralysis. To say “I love you” now is not just about risking loss; it is about confronting the memory of the reply he never gave. In this way, the words carry a double weight — love as death, and love as guilt.

Chapter 66 dramatizes this curse in full force. In his sleep, Dan clings to Jaekyung’s shirt (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 66) He regrets his passivity and silence. He has not been able to mourn them.

This is why he associates love with death. The words became for him not a gift, but a curse: a death sentence, a debt he could never repay. To say I love you would be to invite catastrophe, to repeat the moment of unbearable loss, as loving means missing. His survival mechanism was silence. He chose to endure, to repay debts, to serve others, to substitute actions for words.

Here another distinction is crucial: the difference between quantity of time and quality of time. In Germany, working mothers were long stigmatized as “Rabenmutter” (raven mothers), accused of selfishly neglecting their children if they pursued careers. Yet modern research has shown that a fulfilled, working mother often gives more genuine love than a depressed housewife who sacrifices everything. What matters is not constant presence but authentic connection.

Dan’s grandmother never understood this. She assumed that because she spent all her time with him (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.

That’s why my theory is that Dan’s suffering is not rooted in never having been loved, but in being too much loved — and then losing it. He tasted true love as a child, only to have it ripped away. The grandmother, in her endless presence, could not replace it. Quantity could not make up for quality. The boy grew up knowing exactly what love felt like — and therefore knowing exactly what he had lost.

This is why Mingwa draws both boys with phones as children. (chapter 74) Each is tied to a parent’s voice. For Jaekyung, the mother’s words amounted to rejection and withdrawal: “You’re grown up, I don’t need you.” For Dan, the unseen parent almost certainly said the opposite: (chapter 19) “I love you.” But because death or disappearance followed, those words became unbearable. One parent wounds by refusing to speak, the other by speaking for the last time. This explicates his hesitation in the penthouse: (chapter 45) Both strands converge in the present: Jaekyung cannot hear love, Dan cannot voice it. Both are cursed.

If his mother’s last words were “I love you” tied to death and guilt, then money, gifts, and even friendship all became tainted for Dan:

  • Never saved money. Because deep down, money symbolized the burden that crushed his parents. To him, money is linked with guilt and loss, not freedom. Why save what only brings ruin? Every coin tucked away echoes the debts that swallowed his family.
  • Not interested in friends. Friendships mean attachment, and attachment means risk of loss. If “I love you” from his mother ended in abandonment, then investing emotionally in others would feel too dangerous. Better to stay isolated, to keep the pain at bay. Besides, he experienced bullying, reinforcing his isolation.
  • Accepted grandmother’s passivity. Her silence mirrored his own coping strategy: if you don’t hope, you can’t be hurt. He didn’t rebel because her inertia fit his trauma — a life stripped of dreams is safer than a dream that can collapse. At the same time, it explains why he attached himself to her, did everything for her… it is because he knows what love is. (chapter 65)
  • Couldn’t accept presents. Because gifts symbolize care and generosity (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?”

Even his hesitation in love reflects this same scar. To confess is to risk repeating the curse: to say I love you is to say I miss you, to pre-empt the loss he believes must inevitably follow attachment. That is why his every gesture translates into repayment rather than confession: paying debts, working endless jobs, offering loyalty. For Dan, love must always be balanced, or else it feels like a dangerous imbalance that the universe will punish.

This is why his whispered confession was both utterly true and utterly tragic. (chapter 39) It broke free of his usual silence, but only in a context that allowed it to be denied, laughed off, reduced to error. The boy who once heard I love you as the final word of life has never dared to speak it again with full consciousness. For him, the words are not magical yet. They are still poisoned.

The End Of The Curse

But after hearing Jaekyung’s tragic story, he must have realized that they share the same fate: both grew up without parents, both were robbed of a proper childhood. One was abandoned, the other bereaved. Both learned to survive through silence.

This is why the dream in chapter 75 matters so deeply. (chapter 75) In the dream, Dan does not speak. He simply turns back, bathed in sunlight, as if to wait. That single gesture contains everything Jaekyung has been starved of: inclusion, patience, recognition. It stands in absolute contrast to the voice of his father, who at dawn once spat the cruelest curse a child can hear: (chapter 73) You are not special wounded Jaekyung more deeply than fists ever could. It condemned him to a life of proof, to an endless treadmill of victories meant to silence that voice. But here, in this vision, the curse is answered without words. For Dan to wait for him, to turn his face toward him, is to say what no one else ever did: you matter. You are precious. You are worth waiting for. In fairy-tale terms, the jinx is not lifted by triumph in battle, but by recognition — by being seen. (chapter 75) He doesn’t need to prove his worth or his strength. He doesn’t need to do anything, he just needs to look at doc Dan! Through the gaze, they both express that they are valuable.

The physical therapist’s vision with Shin Okja (ch. 47) throws this into sharper relief. There, Dan imagined taking her on a trip after the hospital, walking side by side, giving her what she never had: rest, companionship. The problem is that this image was still mixed with repayment, nevertheless doc Dan was gradually realizing that spending time together was important. This vision displays the importance of walking together. When Jaekyung dreams of Dan waiting in the sunlight, (chapter 75) it is the same metaphor renewed. Dan has replaced the grandmother in this vision — he has become the one who walks ahead yet turns back, including him in the journey. The implication is clear: Jaekyung no longer has to march forward alone. The future he never dared to imagine now opens as a shared path.

The structure itself echoes the fairy-tale pattern. I have already made connection between the Korean Manhwa and Sleeping Beauty , Belle and The Beast, and finally The Little Mermaid. In Sleeping Beauty, the kingdom lies trapped in silence until a kiss awakens not only the girl but the world. In The Little Mermaid, dawn means death because her love remains unspoken. In Beauty and the Beast, the curse is shattered only when the words “I love you” are spoken — not as possession but as recognition. Mingwa draws from this reservoir of cultural memory. Jaekyung’s dream is a kind of spell: silence redefined, from abandonment into hope. Where once silence meant rejection — the mother who turned her back, the father whose silence was mockery, the empty nights of waiting — now it becomes a promise: Dan will not walk away. He waits, silently, until Jaekyung steps forward. (chapter 75)

Notice the timing. When Jaekyung jolts awake, (chapter 75) the room is still dark. Yet in a previous chapter, we heard birds singing at dawn (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”.

Thus both men stand before a silence heavy with history. For Jaekyung, silence meant abandonment; for Dan, silence meant survival. And yet in the dream, silence shifts its meaning. It becomes the waiting space in which words can finally emerge. (chapter 75) Dan’s figure in the sunlight does not reproach, does not demand. It simply invites. The silence of the dream is not the silence of loss but the silence that precedes a confession.

This is why the fairy-tale logic is so essential. In every story, the curse holds until someone dares to speak or act from love. In Jaekyung’s case, brute force has failed. No title, no victory, no belt has lifted the weight of his father’s curse. In Dan’s case, endurance has failed. No debt repaid, no day survived, no burden carried has erased the wound of his parents’ disappearance. The spell will not break by repetition of the old methods. It will break only when Dan speaks the words he most fears: I love you.

When that happens, the dawn scene will finally be complete. The birds already sing. The light already glimmers. The dream has already shown the way. What remains is for Dan’s voice to enter the silence, to transform waiting into presence, vision into reality. When those words are spoken — not poisoned by guilt, not dismissed as a mistake, but confessed freely — Jaekyung will no longer be his father’s son. He will be someone else’s beloved. The jinx will shatter (chapter 75), not with noise but with a whisper while looking at each other.

And if the curse is broken, the athlete no longer needs to fight and accept the “invitation” from the CEO and the manager. This is where Mingwa’s subtle use of sound and silence becomes crucial.

Think back to the restaurant in chapter 69, (chapter 69) when Park Namwook leaned across the table and whispered to the champion about his slipping rank, his lost title, his third place. The setting is dim, the words hushed, the tone heavy with shadow. That whisper was not meant to soothe — it was meant to undermine. Namwook’s closeness is false intimacy: a confidentiality designed to manipulate, to remind Jaekyung of his dependence, to keep him chained to the cycle of fighting. The whisper here is the voice of fear, lack, and scarcity.

Now contrast this with the whisper we anticipate from Dan. His silence in the dream (chapter 75) is not oppressive like Namwook’s — it is open, steady, waiting to be filled. When Dan eventually breaks it with an “I love you,” the whisper will not chain Jaekyung to debt or failure, but free him from the curse. Both Namwook and Dan occupy positions of proximity, both bend close to him in moments of vulnerability — but one weaponizes the whisper, the other redeems it.

This brings us back to my point about quantity versus quality. Namwook has been by Jaekyung’s side for years. (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.

By contrast, Dan has been present for only a fraction of that time (4 months). Yet in those brief encounters, he has done what Namwook never could: he has listened, waited, cared. He has offered no manipulation, no bargain, no shadowed whisper — only a quiet inclusion (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.

In fairy tales, this contrast is often dramatized as the distinction between the false helper and the true helper. The false helper stays close, makes promises (The prince in The Little Mermaid), whispers encouragement, but secretly feeds on the hero’s struggle. The true helper might appear suddenly, even briefly, but offers the one thing that matters: the key to breaking the spell.

And that is exactly what chapter 75 foreshadows. The false whispers of Namwook will fade into irrelevance, while the true whisper — Dan’s future confession of love — will carry the power to break Jaekyung’s curse once and for all.

The breaking of the curse will not only free Jaekyung from his father’s voice — it will also free him from the tyranny of time. (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.

That change means he can finally rest. And when one rests, the present opens up. The little things, so long ignored, become sources of joy. This is exactly what we glimpsed in chapter 27: the rare day off. For once, Jaekyung did not fight, did not perform. He smiled (chapter 27), joked (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.

In this sense, the breaking of the jinx is not just about escaping the past; it is about re-entering the present. True happiness will not come from another belt or victory, but from the ability to enjoy simple, shared moments: jokes by the pool, laughter, warmth, rest. (chapter 75) But there’s a difference to the past. The vision of Kim Dan is strongly intertwined with nature, we are here seeing sunlight and not the light from cameras! (chapter 53) What did the director tell the star? The latter should look at his surroundings: the ocean, the sky, the trees… (chapter 75) This means that Joo Jaekyung is on his way to discover nature and as such animals! So far, he hasn’t paid too much attention to Boksoon and her puppies. And now, you comprehend my illustration for the essay. The champion is on his way to discover a whole new world. Doc Dan embodies nature: the sun, the trees, the sky. (chapter 75) Nature is the symbol of life. I LOVE YOU, LIFE!

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

Jinx: What about The Wolf’s 🐺First Kiss ? 💋

The Couple’s First Kiss

In episode 14, Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan kissed each other for the first time. (chapter 14) For the physical therapist, this moment would later be confirmed. (chapter 16) —haltingly and with a trace of disbelief visible thanks to the points of suspension —as his first kiss ever. His stunned reaction and eventual admission offer a compelling lens through which to explore the symbolism of kissing in Jinx, but also the emotional landscape the two men must navigate.

Yet, the title of this essay refers not to Kim Dan, the hamster, but to the wolf. Could this have been the champion’s first kiss, too? The story never provides a definitive answer. While Jaekyung has had many sexual partners, he treated them as disposable— as toys and not as individuals. (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?

Under this lens, the significance of a first kiss expands. It becomes a tool not only to uncover Jaekyung’s emotional history and his past, but to explore the shifting dynamics between the protagonists. The following analysis begins with Dan’s reaction, then gradually shifts its focus to Jaekyung—tracing how the act of kissing reveals hidden fears, prior wounds, and the potential for genuine transformation.

The Hamster’s First Kiss

When Mingwa proposed a different perspective of the doctor’s first kiss in episode 15, (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 was only later, while brushing his teeth in front of a mirror, that he consciously identified the event as his “first kiss.” Why didn’t he recognize it immediately? After all, a kiss—mouth-to-mouth contact—is common knowledge, even for someone emotionally inexperienced. I have different explanations for his confusion.

First, Dan’s delayed recognition reveals that this was no ordinary kiss: it was his first moment of unfiltered intimacy, so foreign to him that it couldn’t be labeled until later. (chapter 15) The emotional dissonance overwhelmed his ability to process what had just happened. His belated realization doesn’t just reveal how strange closeness is to him, but also how deeply isolated he is from ordinary social and cultural cues—whether through meaningful relationships or exposure to romantic norms in media. The fact that he did not immediately identify the kiss, despite its widely understood definition, underscores the emotional detachment and deprivation he has lived with. How could this happen?

To answer this question, we must consider more than just Dan’s personal trauma (the loss of his parents) —we have to examine his cultural upbringing and environment, especially his exposure to intimacy through media. This interpretive thread was triggered by a seemingly benign interaction in chapter 30, when Kim Dan meets actor Choi Heesung for the first time. (chapter 30) Recognizing his face, Dan mentions that his grandmother used to watch the drama A Fine Line, and that he had seen it with her. (chapter 30) The author even includes a framed shot from the fictional show, depicting Heesung as the smiling son-in-law in a multigenerational family. This visual insert is subtle, but telling: it wasn’t the story that stayed with Dan, but the faces—the aesthetics of family structure and polite emotional decorum.

This detail matters. Korean weekend dramas, particularly those aimed at older or more conservative audiences, are known for avoiding overt depictions of romance or physical affection. Instead of kissing scenes or deep emotional vulnerability, these shows focus on family values, social respectability, and moral perseverance. Romantic affection is implied through service, duty, and self-sacrifice, while physical intimacy is portrayed sparingly—if at all. “Skinship,” as physical affection is commonly referred to in Korean culture, tends to be awkward and limited even in media (like for example grabbing the wrist instead of the hand). Public displays of affection are discouraged in real life, and this cultural restraint echoes onscreen. K-drama couples often struggle to express love openly; when they do kiss, it’s usually stylized, fleeting, or emotionally stilted.

When you realize that Dan’s only exposure to fictional romance came through watching these conservative shows with his grandmother, the implications grow clearer. His understanding of love was shaped by media that prized emotional self-control, emphasized propriety, and framed romance as something that only happens within marriage or bloodline ties. And more importantly, his access to even this narrow vision of love was filtered through Shin Okja, a woman whose own values prioritized appearances, self-reliance, and emotional suppression. Under her roof, affection was functional. Emotional expression was rather ignored.

This means that Dan grew up with no safe or meaningful model of romantic love—neither in life nor in fiction. He didn’t learn how to interpret touch, kisses, or expressions of desire. He may know intellectually what a kiss is—mouth-to-mouth contact—but that knowledge carries no emotional anchor. His surprised thought (“What’s this?”)(episode 15) in episode 15 reveals just how disconnected he is from the symbolic meaning of affection. Later, brushing his teeth and reflecting, he finally realizes: That was my first kiss. But even then, the memory doesn’t register as something tender or beautiful. Instead, it haunts him because (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.

From this, we can draw a larger conclusion: Shin Okja didn’t just isolate Dan emotionally. She installed in him a framework that made affection seem inaccessible—something reserved for “real” families or television characters, not for someone like him. Without a nuclear family of his own, he wasn’t allowed to love—only to obey, endure, and work. The media he consumed (he likes TV K-dramas) mirrored this unspoken rule. The love stories weren’t his to emulate, but to passively observe as if from behind glass. In fact, it was likely his grandmother who chose those dramas, reinforcing a narrow script: love was something that happened to others, while he remained the background figure—responsible, silent, useful.

This disconnect becomes even more apparent in chapter 30, when Dan observes Joo Jaekyung and Choi Heesung posing together. (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) His grandmother may have been a fan of Heesung, but I doubt that Dan never allowed himself that luxury. So his reaction is a rupture: he is suddenly pulled out from behind the glass, facing emotions he was never taught to hold. But there’s more to it. Dan’s extreme shyness around nudity (chapter 30) —despite already having been seen naked by Jaekyung (chapter 30) —suggests something deeper than modesty. When he rushes to hide his underwear and blushes merely at brushing his teeth next to someone (chapter 30), it becomes evident: Dan is not accustomed to physical closeness or shared domestic spaces. These are not reactions of a man with just sexual trauma—they point to someone raised without the warmth of daily intimacy.

Thus I couldn’t help myself thinking that it is unlikely Shin Okja ever bathed him or dressed him as a child. Their emotional distance is reflected in the boundaries Dan maintains even in private. In this light, the scene where Dan wears a shirt with a visible clothing tag on his back takes on symbolic weight: (chapter 5) He had to take care of himself, dressed on his own. He had to act like an adult, as his role was to assist his grandmother: (chapter 65) This raises the possibility that someone else—most likely his mother—was his primary caregiver in early childhood. She would have changed his diapers, held him close, and kissed him gently. (chapter 65) This hypothesis and interpretation gets reinforced with the champion’s first kiss on his cheek (chapter 44) and ear (chapter 44) For me, without realizing it, Dan reproduced those gestures. These actions can not come from Shin Okja, as we only see her caressing or patting her grandson. The progression is striking. It moves away from eroticism (kiss from the lips) (chapter 44) and toward something far more intimate and protective. These are not the kisses of seduction, but of affection—almost maternal in their tone. Hence the MMA fighter got patted later: (chapter 44) They suggest care, comfort, and emotional presence. This is crucial, because it reveals that for Dan, a kiss is not about arousal or conquest. It is a language of love. They carry the flavor of instinct. These are the kinds of kisses a child might have once received, or given, in moments of safety and connection.

The way Dan moves through these kisses suggests something primal, tender, and exploratory. His gestures resemble those of animals—like a mother expressing affection to her cub. Such an attitude could only encourage his partner to reciprocate such closeness, like a cub seeking warmth. As noted in earlier analysis [For more read this essay], nuzzling (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 44) reflect this balance of caution and care, power and softness.

These gestures are not shaped by media, romance tropes, or societal expectations. They are shaped by something older than words—a kind of emotional muscle memory. His body remembers how to love, even if his mind has forgotten. And in that moment, Dan is free from the grandmother’s world of rules and repression. Shin Okja represents structure, duty, and emotional withholding—society. But Dan’s kisses are a return to nature. They are unmediated, sincere, and free from transactional logic. Think of how Boksoon treated her puppies (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 44)

This contrast reveals why Shin Okja’s narrative of him being an orphan “from birth” is not just inaccurate (chapter 65) —it is ideological. She has never kissed him that way so far. It is her attempt to erase the past and shame. Therefore she removes whatever freedom or natural affection Dan once experienced, and to replace it with a world where love must be earned through sacrifice, duty and obedience, not given freely. The kiss becomes a reclaiming not just of emotional intimacy, but of a self that existed before control. His instincts speak louder than memory—and in that, Dan tells a truth that cannot be overwritten. And now, you comprehend why the doctor couldn’t identify the champion’s action as a kiss (chapter 15) It was not because he didn’t know what a kiss was, but because it didn’t align with what he unconsciously believed a kiss should be. In other words, the champion’s gesture triggered his memory which mirrors what the athlete was experiencing in the locker room. (chapter 14) Therefore the physical therapist astonishment, “What’s this?” was not naïve; it was disoriented. Somewhere deep within, Dan had internalized a different model of kissing: one that reflected comfort, not conquest; affection, not arousal. The kiss he received was too strange, too fierce—it violated a definition he didn’t even know he had. His body knew how to kiss, but it remembered a different type of kiss altogether. The latter stands for love and as such emotions. Under this new light, my avid readers can comprehend why the physical therapist made the following request from his fated partner: (chapter 15) He needed to be “warned” in order to control his “heart”. As you can see, doc Dan had an innocent definition of the kiss. Therefore it is not astonishing that the wolf’s first kiss confused him so deeply: it shattered the only blueprint he had for intimacy.

This adds a tragic dimension to Dan’s unfamiliarity with touch. It’s not that he never had it—he once did. But it was taken from him, and what followed was not nurturing, but restriction through silence, erasure,money and work. His discomfort with nudity and closeness (chapter 65) is not just about sexual shame. It’s about lost comfort, severed memory, and the long silence of a child never told the truth, the vanishing of his parents. Under this new light, Jinx-philes can understand why the main lead could never discover sexuality and as such never went through puberty.

In this light, Shin Okja’s praise of hard work and her obsession (chapter 65) with success and fortune take on a new, darker meaning. Her restraint around love and sexuality wasn’t only generational—it was strategic. She reinforced a worldview in which success, debt repayment, and self-denial were Dan’s only legitimate currencies. For her, love, on the other hand, was frivolous, indulgent, even dangerous. She only treasures the relationship between the protagonists, as such a friendship is useful. It serves her interests, that way she can still control doc Dan’s fate. In other words, she only views relationship as transactional. The smiling family in A Fine Line (chapter 30) becomes a cruel illusion: a representation of the affection he was trained to uphold but never to receive. On the other hand, the kiss in the penthouse becomes testimony—not of desire, but of a forgotten lineage of tenderness. (chapter 44) It was not Dan’s first kiss with Jaekyung; it is his reclaiming of emotional truth.

Kisses without consent

And here, another crucial dimension enters the stage: consent. The kiss in the locker room was not only unexpected—it was uninvited. Note that in the locker room, the champion used his hand to touch his lover’s lips. (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 13) where a little touch was functional. On the other hand, the suggestion framed “affection” as a form of fun and entertainment, meant to soften the experience and shift the focus toward the partner. While Cheolmin’s comment was not malicious—in fact, it encouraged Jaekyung to become gentler and more attentive—it still fell short of true emotional connection. Why? It was a medical suggestion, meant to protect Dan’s fragile state. The kisses in episodes 14 were to protect the physical therapist. They were initially functional, a mean to achieve a goal before becoming a habit.

This misunderstanding also illuminates Jaekyung’s mindset. The champion had never seen a kiss as something requiring consent, care, or emotional meaning. He had likely never received such a kiss himself—especially not from a maternal figure. The implication was that in his mind, kisses are tools for relaxation, not intimacy; strategies for pleasure, not signs of affection. Thus he asked doc Dan at the hostel: (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)

And such actions (grabbing the doctor’s face for a kiss) shaped Dan’s reaction. During the “magical night” in chapter 44, the physical therapist copied Jaekyung’s earlier gesture —he grabs his partner’s face, too. (chapter 44) Yet, the intention behind this gesture is fundamentally different. While the wolf’s kisses were abrupt and consuming (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.

This mirrored gesture reveals something powerful: that Dan’s body had internalized the champion’s movement, but his heart translated it into a new language—one of consensual, innocent affection. Through this contrast, Jinx subtly rewrites the significance of a kiss: not as something to be taken, but something to be offered. It is precisely through Dan’s innocent and instinctive response that the reader is guided toward understanding the importance of consent, of emotional resonance, and of redefining touch as something more than just a prelude to sex. So should Jaekyung later discover that Dan had never kissed anyone before, the realization doesn’t just reveal a lie (chapter 3) —it forces the wolf to ponder on the meaning of a kiss and his relationship with the physical therapist.

Klimt’s The Kiss and the Denial of the Mouth

The cheek and the ear, (chapter 44) often overlooked in romantic tropes, Yet here, they become sacred sites of intimacy, echoing the symbolic restraint found in Gustav Klimt’s painting The Kiss. It is the painting in the middle of the illustration. 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.

This parallel is not incidental. Klimt’s composition, saturated in gold and enveloping the lovers in a cocoon of ornament, gives the moment a sense of timelessness and sanctity. Likewise, in Jinx, Dan’s kiss bypasses lust and aims straight for emotional resonance. His kiss is not a prelude to sex; it is the articulation of emotional trust, maternal memory, and innocent longing. In this light, the cheek and ear become hallowed spaces where intimacy is not consumed, but offered. The problem is that during that night Joo Jaekyung was drunk, hence he couldn’t understand the meaning of such actions.

This moment reveals a stark contrast with the world that Jaekyung has known. For most of his life, touch was functional, performative, or controlling—something done to achieve a goal, to assert dominance, or to maintain emotional distance. (chapter 44) But Dan’s kiss disrupts that entire framework. It is small, almost imperceptible, but seismic in meaning. It asks nothing. It takes nothing. It simply is—and in that stillness, it unsettles the champion more than any act of aggression could. (chapter 44)

The symbolism deepens when we reflect on Jaekyung’s own evolution. He begins the story believing that conquest lies in performance—through physical power, sexual prowess, and unrelenting dominance. But as he stands before this soft, reverent kind of love, he encounters something far more disarming: gentleness. Vulnerability. A kiss that does not inflame the body (chapter 44) but stirs the soul. Therefore it is not surprising that later doc Dan is covered with bite marks. (chapter 45)

The purer the kiss becomes, the more threatening it feels—because it exposes him. It demands no proof, no role, no mask. And that is perhaps why Jaekyung, despite all his experience with bodies, remains a novice when it comes to the heart. In bypassing the mouth, Dan bypasses Jaekyung’s defenses. He offers not seduction, but sacred contact. And for a man raised in conquest, that is the most intimate violation of all.

Has the Champion Ever Been Kissed Before?

Like mentioned above, I could determine that the athlete had never been kissed before, especially by a “mother”. He didn’t even know that his ears were sensitive to the touch. (chapter 44) Moreover, I have already outlined that the athlete associates kissing to protection and pleasure which were suggested by his hyung Cheolmin. Therefore my avid readers can understand why I come to the following conclusion. It was indeed the champion’s first kiss in the locker room.

However, my theory is based on other points as well. One of the other reasons is related to his nightmare with the unknown ghost. (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 2) Thus I am assuming that in his eyes, a kiss could only be perceived as a threat. Besides, the anonymous abuser was even laughing in front of his face (chapter 54) , which means that the champion must have internalized “laugh” as mockery and contempt. That’s why he was so upset, when he was provoked by Randy Booker: the fighter’s words and actions had triggered his repressed memories. (chapter 14) Thus I interpret that for the main lead, the mouth is not a site of tenderness but a battlefield—one linked to mockery, humiliation, and violation. It evokes the memory of confrontations like the one with Randy Booker, which reignited repressed trauma rather than surface-level anger. This is why it’s so difficult for him to associate a kiss with affection or love. The gesture, meant to signify intimacy for most, is for him an unconscious echo of danger.”

And what did the doctor do during that wonderful night? (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) This signifies that unconsciously, the athlete has long associated fun and laugh with humiliation, exposure, and powerlessness. Laughter—especially in close physical proximity—did not signal joy or affection in his past; it echoed mockery from a position of dominance. Thus, when Dan laughed innocently during their intimate moment, Jaekyung’s body reacted as if to shut down a threat. His abrupt kiss was not a romantic gesture but a reflex: a way to regain control, to interrupt the emergence of vulnerability, and to erase the echo of past humiliation. And now pay attention to the continuation of this sudden kiss: (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.

Notice how Dan’s eyes remain open, gazing at Jaekyung. This contrast is striking: while the kiss is physically intimate, there’s a clear emotional imbalance. Dan is present and aware, while Jaekyung is almost consuming—driven by instinct and buried fear. The intensity of the kiss, paired with the previous silencing gesture, marks a moment where physical closeness masks emotional retreat. It’s not yet an act of mutual trust—it’s still shaped by Jaekyung’s attempt to neutralize discomfort, to steer the interaction back into territory he understands: dominance, silence, and physicality. Under this new light, it dawned on me why the champion could only reject this magical night the next morning. (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.

What horrified him (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.

And so, the rejection wasn’t cold—it was defensive. He had to reclaim his distance before the emotional reality could catch up with him. Because to accept the night as mutual would be to recognize that he had been wanted, not used (chapter 45) —and that he, in turn, had wanted Dan back. This terrified him more than any bruise ever could.

But let’s return our attention to episode 44. (chapter 44) In this context, the kiss becomes a complex act of both silencing and self-protection. It was a mixture of unconscious attachment and learned defense—an attempt to rewrite a script that his body remembered all too vividly. This continuation corroborates my earlier observation—Jaekyung unconsciously connects laughter and joy with vulnerability and mockery (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.

Another clue for this hypothesis is how the green-haired tried to “seduce” the athlete. (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.

There exists another evidence for this interpretation. Once Joo Jaekyung returned home, he had a recollection of the night in the States. (chapter 55) He couldn’t forget doc Dan’s face, the latter excited him, a sign that for the champion, the face in general has been a source of pain, yet thanks to doc Dan, the latter has become a source of “comfort and joy”. (chapter 66) When he saw his face for the first time, he didn’t realize that he was already under the hamster’s spell. Striking is that he even focused on his chin and lips, a sign that he desired to kiss them. One thing is sure. The champion treasured the doctor’s face. After their separation, it is not surprising that the wolf felt the need to see his face.

That’s how I realized why the athlete initially rejected the doctor’s advances in the States(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.

However, it occurred to me that the star didn’t recollect those kisses from doc Dan, rather their intercourse in the States (chapter 55) and in the penthouse (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.

Finally, I would like Jinx-philes to recall the reminder from the green-haired uke: (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.

To conclude, the absence of kissing reveals that those relationships were purely transactional. They could not be dating. In contrast, Dan is the only one Jaekyung ever kisses. Later, when Jaekyung tries to replicate that kiss with the new “uke”, he recoils. (chapter 55) He cannot bring himself to kiss someone else. That moment exposes the kiss as something sacred—one that cannot be duplicated without emotional violation. In other words, he was one step closer to the truth: the kiss is strongly intertwined with attachment and feelings.

So for me, the abuser is the reason why the champion kept people at arms length. He felt insecure and threatened…. He had not only be cornered, but also silenced and ridiculed which seems to reinforce my other hypothesis that the star was abused sexually by an adult in the past. [For more read Guilty Truth ⚖ Or Dare 🤥🤡- part 2 ( locked)]

From my perspective, it was his first kiss, yes, but it came tangled in past fear and trauma. (chapter 54) This nightmare reflecting his childhood imply the absence of kiss, but more importantly intimacy is strongly connected with dominance, bullying and destruction. No wonder why the champion rejected intimacy later. Only with time—and Dan’s persistent tenderness—can the wolf begin to untangle touch from threat, and laughter from scorn. Hence I conclude that for the champion, face to face was a very uncomfortable position. This would explain why he felt the need to punch people… unconsciously, the punch is directed at his past abuser. And each time, he was insulted and provoked by his opponents, look how he reacted later: he targeted their face, the eyes and mouth. (chapter 15) (chapter 52) In that context, a kiss could never be affection, but vulnerability. A risk.

Virginity, Secrecy, and Misunderstanding

Both characters are wrapped in illusions about each other. Jaekyung likely assumes Dan has kissed others (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.

Redefining Seduction: From Transaction to Intimacy

Since Kim Dan internalized sex as a form of debt repayment and professional obligation (chapter 67), Jaekyung must reinvent his approach. He cannot rely on dominance, strength, or sexual performance to win Dan’s heart. If he wants true connection, he must learn a new language—one built on gestures of affection, softness, and presence. This process also involves separating his public persona from his private longing. Joo Jaekyung, the champion, cannot seduce with spectacle. But Jaegeng, the man, might learn to express love through a simple touch, or a well-timed kiss. The redefinition of seduction is not just about Dan’s healing; it is about the wolf’s reclaiming his own right to feel and give love. And in my opinion, that process has already started: (chapter 69) That moment was devoid of lust, stripped of performance, and free from power dynamics. Jaekyung didn’t lean in for a kiss; he didn’t touch Dan’s lips or body with any sexual intent. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the physical therapist in silent reassurance, tucking his face against Dan’s shoulder as though hiding from the world. This was not a champion claiming a prize—it was a man expressing affection. The embrace exposes that doc Dan belongs to his “world” and he trusts him. In this light, the embrace becomes a prelude to a kiss—not a literal one, but an emotional kiss: a meeting place of vulnerability and longing.

The dock, surrounded by water, reinforces this symbolism. Water is traditionally associated with emotions, the unconscious, and transformation. By choosing this setting, the narrative invites us to see the wolf stepping into unfamiliar emotional territory—not with fists clenched, but arms open. Unlike the brutal kisses of season 1, this gesture is wordless but intimate. It communicates what he cannot yet articulate: “You matter. You’re safe with me. And I want to stay.”

In that stillness, without a single word or erotic touch, Jaekyung begins to kiss Dan in the truest sense—by offering presence, by being real. It is not seduction, but invitation. Not a test of loyalty, but a revelation of it.

Where Will He Learn the Meaning?

Since neither Shin Okja (chapter 65) nor his past partners provided him with genuine and affectionate touch, Jaekyung must look elsewhere. (chapter 57) Boksoon and her puppies may become his new mirror. Boksoon leaks affection without condition. Her dogs kiss as instinct, not strategy. Here, Jaekyung might discover what he missed: that kisses are not weapons, nor rewards, but a language of trust. He will not mimic affection from film. (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.

Jaekyung is not a man trained to love with softness, and yet this is exactly what Dan demands. Through subtle, non-erotic kisses, Dan teaches the wolf that it is not brute force that binds people, but longing and happiness. Not noise, but quiet. Not climax, but the pause. In parallel, Dan also begins to reshape another deeply ingrained association: laughter. (chapter 27) In Jaekyung’s past, laughter had been a weapon—an expression of ridicule and cruelty from an abuser. (chapter 54) It echoed through his memory as a sound of danger, not joy. But Dan’s laughter is different. It is light, sincere, and warm. (chapter 44) Just as his kisses invite connection rather than conquest, his joy opens a new possibility: that laughter can be shared rather than endured. In learning to receive these signs of affection—and perhaps one day to return them—Jaekyung is not just falling in love. He is healing. He is discovering that love is not shown through domination or performance, but through trust, gentleness, and the courage to be vulnerable.

Conclusion: A Kiss Is Never Just a Kiss

In Jinx, the first kiss is not just a threshold of romance—it is a psychological rupture. Jaekyung’s inability to process it, and Dan’s unconscious channeling of maternal tenderness, reveal how much has been buried under silence, shame, and trauma. The kiss destabilizes old roles: fighter, caretaker, orphan, predator. It marks the beginning of truth. Not just between two men, but within each of them. And that is why it matters who kissed whom, and why, and whether it has ever happened before.

PS: And now, you know why only the readers laughed, when they saw Jaegeng dressed like that. (chapter 62) If someone had laughed in front of him and made fun of him, this would have reopened his old wounds.

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

Jinx: The Secret ㊙️ Doctor’s Jinx 👄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Jinx Rooted in the Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Secret Jinx That Must Break First

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Split Between Night and Day

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

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

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

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

Conclusion: It’s Happening Again

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

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

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

Jinx: 𓇢𓆸 Prove Me Wrong Again 💢😂

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

The Weight of Unseen Chains: Mental Barriers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Dandelion and Praise: A Fragile Symbol

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

Chapter 1Chapter 15Chapter 30Chapter 31



Chapter 40Chapter 43Chapter 56Chapter 62Chapter 66



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

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

Hollow Words: The Illusion of Praise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The power of words

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

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

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

The Impact: A Growing Divide

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

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

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

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

A Different Kind of Praise

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion: Breaking the Cycle

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

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

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

Jinx: Sweet 🍬 Redemption or Sweet Poison ☠️? The Price of Desire

Headache, Poison and Addiction

In the previous essay, I focused on the symbolism of the rooms in the champion’s life. Therefore I came to neglect the champion’s headache in the restroom. (chapter 55) One might think that the causes for his throbbing head are his depression and insomnia. On the other hand, I am quite certain that many readers had a different explanation for his migraine. He is missing his lover, Kim Dan, as the color red symbolizes the headache and the physical therapist’s name is strongly intertwined with this pigment which was once again confirmed in episoe 56. (chapter 56) So it is true that his migraine are caused by the doctor’s absence. It was, as if the main lead was suffering from withdrawal symptoms. The fighter has a love addiction, but he is not aware of the existence of this “sweet poison”. But there’s more to it.

Very early on, I had associated the “hamster” to a drug, but more precisely to a sweet candy and even a strawberry, like my different illustrations of analyses are displaying it Thus I consider this image, where the champion is seen (chapter 43) eating a strawberry with cream as the announcement of the magical night between Kim Dan and his fated partner. The fruit with the cream represented a violation to his strict diet.

The wolf’s coping mechanisms

So the moment Joo Jaekyung was left alone, he tried to cope with the withdrawal symptoms by replacing with other drugs, like for example alcohol (chapter 55) or the medicine against migraine. (chapter 54) However, in episode 55, we can observe a huge change in the champion. (chapter 55) The latter is finally admitting the inefficiency of the medicine. In other words, in this scene, he was giving up on them. This represents an important step on his way to enlightenment. For me, it signifies that he is stopping relying on pharmaceutical products. Let’s not forget that in the past, he rejected the PT and even neglected them. Why? It is because he trusted more sprays and other medicines than people. (chapter 49) Therefore the switch of the spray had to occur. He needed to question his prejudices and attitude. But let’s return our attention to the champion and his throbbing head. One detail in this panel caught my notice. (chapter 55) Interesting is that Mingwa portrayed him with closed eyes. It is not anodyne in my opinion, for the author was referring to the star’s third eye. Here, the protagonist was using it. That’s the reason why I interpret this image as a metamorphosis in the fighter.

Headache and alcohol

And what about alcohol? When the cleaning lady with her colleagues removed all the empty bottles of wine, she made the following comment: (chapter 55). This means that she had not seen the mess in the master room before: (chapter 55) And now, pay attention to the number of the bottles in his room: (chapter 55) I count 12 bottles of wine exactly like in the last image from chapter 54. Thus I came to the following deductions:

  • The cleaning staff only comes once a week and it is on Mondays!!
  • This signifies that a week had passed between the moment the fighter started drinking (chapter 54) and the appearance of the staff in chapter 55. It indicates that Jinx-philes can witness time deceleration in season 2. From one month in one chapter, then a week in the next episode, finally we have a reference to a day: Monday. Thus I deduce that in episode 56, only 2 or 3 days elapsed. I have already announced that the couple should meet each other around 25th: (chapter 56), for the day Kim Dan wired his money to his “loved one” took place after 10th of the month: XX = two digits. (chapter 55)

Then, the fact that this woman questioned the fighter’s behavior before removing the bottle, (chapter 55), indicates her surprise. She can not explain his huge change of behavior (messy and dirty room). She is trying to find an explanation: maybe a party with friends? The woman’s comment about the champion’s drinking habits seems to carry a dual tone. On one hand, it could be interpreted as playful or ironic banter, potentially lightheartedly teasing him about drinking heavily or having an active social life. On the other hand, it could also function as a reminder or critique, subtly pointing out the extent of his drinking and perhaps hinting at concern or judgment. For me, she was showing concern for her boss. The other evidence for this interpretation is that she brought the gift with the card: (chapter 55) Consequently, I judge the cleaning lady as the positive version of Park Namwook. Though she uses social norms, she doesn’t use them against her employee. She didn’t condemn him, it is a mixture of teasing and reminder. At the same time, her intervention implies that she must have noticed changes in her boss after the arrival of Kim Dan in the flat and his departure. That’s the reason why I have the impression that this image is announcing another turning point in the champion’s life either: (chapter 55) He won’t drink like before. However, I don’t think that he will behave like in the past: reject any alcohol entirely.

Migraine and the power of love

Moreover, I would like to point out that the moment the champion masturbated himself, (chapter 55), his migraine vanished. Though he is holding his head the next morning and hiding his gaze (chapter 55) (chapter 55), the Webtoonist didn’t add any red or “throb” as an indication for a migraine. As you can see, his headache is strongly intertwined with repressing the physical therapist and as such locking away memories. However, there exists another cause. What had the doctor done in the past? (chapter 44) Yes, the main lead had patted his lover’s head, while the champion had his eyes close. In my opinion, his unconscious had registered this gesture and loved it. However, the champion had not seen it himself. He was drunk and had his eyes closed. This stroke on the head symbolizes appreciation, affection and recognition. (chapter 23) That’s how little kids are admired and loved. This stands in opposition to the abuser’s behavior: (chapter 54) parental criticism and absence of contact. And how did Choi Heesung express his “love” to Yoon Gu? (chapter special 2) The same way than Kim Dan with the patting! In other words, the champion is deep down longing for such a gesture, but he has not realized it yet. Nevertheless, I believe that he just needs a trigger.

And what was he doing it here? (chapter 55) Stroking himself his head!! On the one hand, it stands for self-reliance, on the other hand it symbolizes his growing maturity. He is somehow attempting to be gentler with himself. Thus I interpret this image as the symbol of growth and insight, whereas I judge the scene in the bathroom as its negative reflection. How was the champion drawn under the shower?

(chapter 55) With his left opened eye!! The exact opposite from this picture: (chapter 55) This signifies that under the shower, he made the opposite decision: no insight and clairvoyance. He chose to bury the doctor again. The problem is that it was already too late. And what is the other difference between these two panels? The absence of the migraine! As long as the athlete thinks about Kim Dan, he has no throbbing head. This explicates why at the end, of episode 55, he was no longer suffering from a migraine. (chapter 55) This observation got confirmed in episode 56, though I couldn’t expose it before the release of the new chapter. (chapter 56) As long as the fighter thinks of his fated partner, he is not plagued with a throbbing head. This shows that it has something to do with repressing memories. However, his physical condition is still not improving: (chapter 56) He even looks worse than before: exhausted and malnourished. There is no one by his side taking care of him: his only interaction with his manager is through the phone. At no moment, the guy felt the need to pay a visit to his boss and champion. (chapter 56) Because I discovered the connection between memories and the physical therapist, it is important to examine the interaction between the main lead and the new uke.

Migraine and the placebo

Yes, I am comparing the new uke to a placebo, a fake “medicine”.

Funny is the original meaning of placebo: “I will please”. Who is pleasing whom at the club? I would say, the celebrity is like a sweet reward to the bottom. Hence the latter is smiling, when he starts talking to the fighter. (chapter 55) This signifies that in reality, the uke is the one benefiting more from this relationship, while the “Gucgi guy” is a placebo for Joo Jaekyung. He can not replace the true medicine: Dan’s love. But Joo Jaekyung chose to close an eye to the truth forgetting his “insight” from chapter 2: (chapter 2) However, back then, he had just stated it in order to get rid of the mint-goblin. He needed a justification for switching his partner. In other words, this was reflecting more the protagonist’s corrupted mind and heart. Therefore he is designed eyeless, the symbol for ignorance, lies and blindness.

What caught my attention is that the author zoomed on Joo Jaekyung’s gaze and notice that the zoom was more on his right eye. (chapter 55) And where did he have his migraine exactly? (chapter 55) It was on the right side and eye! It truly exposes that Joo Jaekyung was getting punished for his attitude. He is not allowed to bury and forget Kim Dan. The star’s open eyes in this episode symbolize denial, lack of self-awareness and as such the absence of insight. He is also punished for his lies in episode 2. His words might have reflected the truth, but his words didn’t expose a change of heart. He was taking advantage of this situation as well. So when the pain intensified pushing him to close his right eye, we should consider this image as a short moment of reflection and realization. In the restroom, he was forced to admit that only Kim Dan could kiss him. Is it a coincidence that just before Mingwa presented this image (chapter 55), she designed her characters eyeless? (chapter 55) Naturally no, she was mirroring the attitude of both figures: both were in denial!! Notice that though the star had no reaction in front of the “replacement”, the latter chose not to give up at all. This man was not expecting a rejection, in fact he was in total denial as well. He didn’t notice the star’s passivity and silence.(chapter 55) He was just standing there and avoiding his gaze. (chapter 55) By such a lethargy and the absence of an erection, the uke should have recognized that the fighter was not into him at all! But no, this man chose to close his eyes to the truth. Why? Because of his greed and selfishness. This explains his shocked reaction, when the athlete pushes him away and leaves: (chapter 55) How can the MMA fighter reject him? This displays his huge confidence or arrogance. There’s no doubt that he will put the blame on Joo Jaekyung. At the same time, I believe that his blindness was also caused by his greed. (chapter 55) He knew that the protagonist was rich and famous.

But let’s return our attention to the athlete. Since the champion’s headache is located on the right side, Jinx-philes should pay attention to the place the doctor patted him: the left side! (chapter 44) This shows that he would like to be patted on his whole head, exactly like Potato. And he had received it in episode 5: (chapter 5) Therefore he was in a happy mood after that match. A simple gesture with a lot of power! He has been missing this hand or better said this gesture. This action was the main lead’s true motivation. (chapter 54) Don’t forget that Dominic Hill had expressed his admiration in a similar way, patting on the back: (chapter 40) No wonder why he felt so lost and empty after the last fight. (chapter 5) But whose hand is this? Park Namwook or coach Jeong Yosep? Because I saw connections between chapter 43-44 and 55, I deduce that (chapter 43) this was the coach’s hand. In other words, the athlete felt more close to the coach than to the manager. This would explain why he would listen to the coach and even entrust him with huge tasks like the charity event. Strangely, in season 1, we can observe how more or more he is distancing himself from the fighter. Probably related to his secret relationship with Kim Dan. According to my theory, the coach is aware of their relationship. They are more than just boss and employee. As you can see, I don’t think that the champion is right now just missing the doctor’s sweet lips. Deep down, he would like to be patted by his loved one, exactly like Potato. (chapter 23) (special episode 2) But this is what he received after the last match: (chapter 52) Nevertheless, Joo Jaekyung is lost as well, because he needs to face his old and fake belief: he is jinxed. But in order to remove this persistent superstition, it is important to study the origins of the athlete’s sexuality. How can I do this?

The origins for the wolf’s excitement

I have always stated that the champion’s libido was strongly intertwined with his aggressiveness. His intercourses were like surrogate fights in the bed. This explicates why the mint-goblin didn’t put much effort to “seduce” him and only touched his sex, when he was on the verge of losing his biggest income: (chapter 2) The champion’s reaction is quite telling. He is not easily swayed. But we have another bigger evidence that his intercourses were replacement for “fights”. In The States, the fighter asked Kim Dan to join him at 11:00. (chapter 38) He needed to prepare himself mentally, to visualize how he would screw his opponent Dominic Hill. He was just taking the expression “fuck/screw” too literally. The latter idiom has the following synonyms: to cheat, oppress, bleed, coerce, wrest and to tighten. Just before the doctor came to his door, what was the athlete doing? He was watching a video from his challenger: (chapter 38) Therefore it is not surprising that he rejected Kim Dan’s request first. (chapter 39) He didn’t feel like it, because he was not aroused at all. Imagine that he needed two hours for that erection, a sign that during that night, Kim Dan was in reality a replacement for the American fighter. (chapter 39) Even when the doctor rubbed his hand against his sex, he had no reaction. (chapter 38) In fact, he needed a fellatio to get an erection, and he only started getting excited, when he saw the doctor’s gaze. That’s the reason why he remembered this image under the shower: (chapter 55) However, the more time the champion spent time with his physical therapist, the more he came to violate his own rules and principles: It started with their first meeting, when he crossed the line by mixing private and professional life together: (chapter 56) Here, Jinx-philes should detect a change, for the champion used the idiom “play”, which is strongly intertwined with fun and entertainment. Then the second violation took place, when the main lead suggested this deal. (chapter 6), Sex was no longer linked to matches, but to his own desires. To conclude, for the first time, the fighter connected sex to pleasure and desires and not “work and fighting”. Because of the deal and Joo Jaekyung’s strange behavior (sex shower scene, …) the PT had the impression that his boss was a man obsessed with sex.

However, this connection between sex and fight was not truly severed at the end of season 1, as the athlete didn’t give up on his biggest rule: to have sex before a match. This observation brings me to the last intercourse between the doctor and Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 53) The latter didn’t feel the need to have more sex with Kim Dan, he let his partner leave the place. Why? This contrasts so much to their First Wedding Night: (chapter 4) (chapter 53) Pay attention to the behavior from the fighter during their last night together. He is looking away, he is not paying attention to his fated companion. His mind was elsewhere, focused on Baek Junmin! In my opinion, during that night, the champion had been able to differentiate between the physical therapist and his opponent. Fighting was more important than sex and as such his sex partner. To conclude, the physical therapist had been able to win Joo Jaekyung’s belief and heart. He was no longer a replacement at all. He had become a person close the fighter.

This signifies as well, the sex before the match had lost its true purpose, and this change occurred in the bathroom, when the athlete made the following resolve: (chapter 49) he wanted to screw Baek Junmin for real. In this image, the athlete oozes confidence and strength. This means that he was no longer dependent on the good fuck before the match. (chapter 53) However, the main lead never realized this huge change, he kept his old belief as a tradition out of habit. This explicates why the fighter tried to replace with a new uke (chapter 55), but here the sex was longer connected to a match, rather to fun. Finally, observe how the champion is now blaming his PT for his ruined match: (chapter 56). I don’t think, he was referring to the spray incident, rather to their night before the match. The doctor had not behaved like a real opponent, he had admitted his “defeat” quite easily. He had left the ring before procuring him a good fuck. He was blaming his partner for violating his rule: (chapter 2) But here is the thing. Kim Dan had just accepted the deal because of his grandmother. Secondly, he learned an important lesson during that magical night: consent! (chapter 44) Sex is a synonym for love and as such it is about giving pleasure and affection to his partner. It is a two-way street. And this is something that the champion has to admit and accept. Thus I deduce that the fighter still has a long way to go before dropping all his fake principles. Like mentioned before, he needs to ponder on the following question: what matters to him the most? His championship or his happiness? Or what is sex to him? Why does he think that he is jinxed? He needs to face his own painful past and remember the face of his tormentor.

However, so far, I didn’t elaborate why Joo Jaekyung came to link fight and sex together. So where does it come from? The answer is simple. The origins of his anger and belligerence were linked to the ghosts from the past: (chapter 49) Baek Junmin and the abusive parent. (chapter 54) Deep down, he wants to punish them. Back then, he must have felt powerless, therefore he chose to erase them from his memories.In both cases, the athlete succeeded to forget them, but he didn’t truly move on with his life. The sufferings they brought upon him were still lingering in his heart and mind. Many readers could detect that the fighter had masturbated on the couch, as he left two tissues on the table: (chapter 54) But I doubt that he had been thinking about the doctor during that time, as Kim Dan only emerged in his nightmare: (chapter 54) But the masturbation had taken place before. So who did he have in mind, when he was jerking off? I might shock my avid readers, but I would say: Baek Junmin. (chapter 54) However, this gesture had the opposite signification: rage, resent… but also sweet revenge! He must have recalled the Shotgun’s face. (chapter 52) There’s no doubt that thanks to the doctor, the champion will learn that he can get “justice” and satisfaction through other means. He can defeat the ghosts from the past, not just thanks to his fists and hard work, but also thanks to his surroundings and knowledge. Lawsuit and media!

The Price Of Desire

Before meeting the doctor again, Joo Jaekyung has to mature and reflect on his way of life. That’s why I included “Sweet Redemption” in the title. The latter mirrors the transformative influence of Kim Dan, who acts as the “cure” to Jaekyung’s toxic patterns, helping him grow emotionally and morally. Kim Dan is sweet like a strawberry, but it signifies that his lover needs to violate his own old “rules”. As for “Sweet Poison”, it ties into the lingering struggles, like the headaches and the karmic weight of his past actions, symbolizing how this transformation isn’t without pain and challenge.

Kim Dan’s influence is a blessing or a painful process of reckoning (or both). It is not surprising that Joo Jaekyung is cursing him. It also balances the themes of suffering (his headaches, physical changes) and healing (learning to separate aggression from intimacy, and focusing on his true battles). It perfectly mirrors the push and pull of his internal conflict. He needs to give up on his false principles, like self-reliance or jinx. In fact, Mingwa already exposed the message of Jinx in the first episode: (chapter 1) The physical therapist is not only his reward and price, but also his “second shoulder” and as such his pillar. The new PT won’t be able to replace him. Joo Jaekyung is not just a champion, but also a team: Kim Dan as his PT and his lover. As for Kim Dan, the celebrity is his “energy drink”, his source of comfort and joy. He is also his home, for he is the first one who invited him to stay with him! Yes, the grandmother didn’t invite her grandson to live with her, he was just dumped at her place. And because the celebrity is like a home and family, it explicates why the doctor is once again “living like a ghost”. (chapter 56) He feels lonely, but contrary to his fated partner, he is not truly looking for replacement. He might use work to divert his mind, yet he is not erasing Joo Jaekyung from his memory due to his promise: he needs to repay him. So his MO is slightly different. He is just using work and his halmoni to survive. Yes, he is also suffering from depression. In other words, when both main leads will meet each other again, they should have reached the bottom so that they can see each other’s misery and both are willing to listen to each other.

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

Jinx: Daily Jinx Advent Insight 17 📆 0️⃣1️⃣9️⃣The Shadows Cast By Numbers

In the composition The Magic Of Numbers I demonstrated the strong link between numbers, characters and situations. This led me to focus on the number 7 and its signification in Jinx. [For more read Magic 7 : Navigating between Jinx and Luck]. Is it a coincidence that number has for synonym “figure”, which is also an equivalent for “character”, person”? I don’t think so. However, the biggest discovery has not been revealed yet. Thus if my avid readers look carefully at the new illustration now, they will detect the digit 1, 0 and 9. What do they mean in Jinx? I will answer to this in the following analysis.

Numbers and Characters

For that, it is important to look at the following chapters and their digits:

Chapter 1Chapter 1Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 20
Loan SharksPerverted Hospital DirectorHeo Namwook/ the loan shark and his minionsHeo Namwook and minionsHeo Namwook and minionsHeo NamwookLoan Shark and Perverted Hospital Director
Chapter 37Chapter 46Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49
Mysterious MFC agentHeo Namwook and minionsFirst appearance of Choi GilseokBaek Junmin’s first appearanceChoi Gilseok meeting Kim DanBaek Junmin meeting Joo Jaekyung and Director Choi switching the spray thanks to his minions

What do these episodes have in common? The number 10 or better said 1 and 0. Let me give different examples. 11; 37 : 3+7= 10; 46: 4+6=10; 4+7= 11. What caught my attention is that the number 1 and 0 are strongly intertwined with the villains.

Before going any further, it is relevant to define a villain.

A villain in literature is a character who represents evil or opposing moral values and often creates conflict with the protagonist. Villains typically display malicious intent, seeking to harm, dominate, or oppose others for personal gain or twisted ideals. Examples include:

  • Darth Vader (Star Wars): A dark lord driven by a desire to impose order through domination.
  • Hannibal Lecter (The Silence of the Lambs): A brilliant but psychopathic serial killer.
  • Voldemort (Harry Potter): A dark wizard seeking immortality and control​

This means that villains in Jinx are people resenting the main leads, they wish to harm or even ruin them. But let’s return our attention to my interpretation. The digit 1 announces the presence of a villain. One might argue about this perception, for number 48, 49 or 20 doesn’t mirror this theory. Nevertheless, Jinx-philes shouldn’t keep in mind that 8 embodies Kim Dan. Moreover, we should see it like that: 47= 4+7= 11, then 48=: 47 (Baek Junmin) + 1 Director Choi. Additionally, in 49, we have 4 persons involved in the scheme to kill the champion with Shotgun: (chapter 49) These 3 men and The Shotgun have to be seen as a team. Moreover, 4 is a synonym for death. Then, observe that the image from episode 20 contains two villains, the loan shark and the perverted hospital director. 1 +1 = 2. So when we see the number 10, 11, 16, 17 and 18, we could perceive it as an allusion to Heo Namwook, the villain.

However, another objection could be raised. What about episode 47? If you add the digits together, you have 11. So where are the two “villains”? It is clear that one is referring to the Shotgun, as for the other we could say, it is an allusion to the invisible involvement of Choi Gilseok. Then what about 11? One possible answer would be to say that the other villain in episode 11 was the representative of the association (chapter 11) and indirectly the persons involved in the redevelopment. However, I have to admit that I have a different explanation.

1 and antagonists

And this brings me to my other observation. In my eyes, the digit is not just referring to villains, but also to antagonists. You might ask about the difference between a villain and an antagonist.

An antagonist, by contrast, is any force or character that opposes the protagonist, creating conflict. They act as barriers to the protagonist’s growth or objectives, embodying stagnation or forces that resist transformation. Unlike villains, antagonists are not necessarily evil. For example:

The Party (1984): The oppressive government represents the antagonist but is not embodied by a single “villainous” character. The party embodies immobility through oppressive control, rejecting individuality or societal progress. It acts as a hurdle for Winston Smith, who seeks freedom and truth.

Miss Havisham in Great Expectations:: She is trapped in her heartbreak, she resists emotional healing and inadvertently thwarts Pip’s development.

As for Captain Ahab in Moby-Dick:, though a protagonist in his own story, Ahab’s obsessive immobility (revenge on the whale) becomes an antagonist force against his crew and their survival.

In other words, they create tension by opposing the protagonist’s goals. They test the main character’s resolve, adaptability, and resourcefulness. By clinging to outdated systems, ideologies, or personal fears, they symbolize forces that resist progress. Many antagonists refuse change, either out of fear, selfishness, or a belief in their own superiority. This refusal often highlights the protagonist’s drive for transformation or growth. To conclude, they embody hurdles to overcome, immobility, intern and extern conflict, resistance and regression.

Therefore for episode 11, one might think that the other 1 was referring to Joo Jaekyung, for the latter appears like a barrier which the young physical therapist needs to overcome. (chapter 11) Let’s not forget that in Jinx-Fandom, many Jinx-addicts calls him a “red flag”. Here, he was abusing his position. Furthermore, this theory could be seen as validated with the first episode with this image: (chapter 1) The main lead appears as a beast, triggering the doctor’s fears. He seems to be like an antagonist. However, I believe that it is just a deception. First, Mingwa has clearly stated that the champion is the protagonist of Jinx. As such, he can be neither a villain nor an antagonist. Secondly, though he seems to serve as a barrier, the reality is that Kim Dan is incited to mature and overcome his own fears. In fact, the celebrity represents the opposite notions of “conformity” and “immobility”. He embodies verity, maturity, transformation and progression. The evidence of this perception is the gradual transformation of Kim Dan as an inexperienced PT to a very professional and performant physical therapist. According to my interpretation, the Emperor works as the mirror of truth. He confronts the delusional physical therapist with his mental and emotional issues, like here: (chapter 20). Sex is not dirty, he is not an old creep. He is just 29 years old. He is pure and innocent like a baby. Hence we should see this discussion (chapter 45) as a good trigger for the 29 years old man to turn into a good PT. From that moment on, he only focused on the sportsman, and stopped asking the help from colleagues or listening to them. (chapter 42) He only relied on his hands. He was forced to become a serious and confident PT!!

On the other hand, there is no denial that the athlete shares some similar traits with an antagonist: his selfishness, the use of threats and an ideology (his jinx). Consequently, one might still contest my interpretation. Nonetheless, this hesitation can be removed easily, when we return our attention to chapter 1 again. (chapter 1) This image was not reflecting reality, but Kim Dan’s vision!! The following panel is the unbiased truth: (chapter 1) The star was just waiting, and not threatening the doctor. As you can see, Joo Jaekyung doesn’t appear like a threat or a monster. But this doesn’t end here. One detail caught my interest. The champion is associated with blue. It is his true color, whereas Kim Dan is “red”, like a sweet strawberry. So why does this young man ooze a red aura, when his true shade is blue like water (chapter 27) or the ocean. It is because he was under the influence of his hyung Park Namwook which explains why Mingwa introduced him like this: (chapter 1) Note the contrast to his “boy”. The red is not coming from Joo Jaekyung’s body (chapter 1), but more from the side which stands in opposition to the coach.

Thus I came to the following deduction. In episode 1, the MMA fighter appears as an antagonist, but he is not the real one, it is his coach and manager. The latter only shows his true colors at the end of season 1. This interpretation gets corroborated with episode 11: (chapter 11) The coach is yelling for Joo Jaekyung’s comment, yet the reality is that the manager didn’t treat Kim Dan at all. In fact, he feigned ignorance. Moreover, look at the champion’s t-shirt: (chapter 1) There is a spider on his t-shirt, which represents the manager’s personality and behavior. (chapter 26) In this composition, I compared the MMA star with a leopard and Park Namwook to a spider: Daily Jinx Advent Insight 12. This shows that the main lead had been copying his mentor’s behavior for a while. And the moment you associate 1 with Park Namwook, it becomes more comprehensible why he argued with his pupil in 17 (chapter 17) or in episode 46 (chapter 46) He represents regression or the hurdle to overcome.

However, we should consider the first episode as a combination of 1 and 0: 01. And who was missing in this chapter? Naturally, Shin Okja, the doctor’s grandmother. She is the other antagonist for our beloved couple: (chapter 11) (chapter 11) And I can prove my statement by showing the episode where she appears:

Chapter 5Chapter 7Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21

Chapter 22Chapter 30Chapter 41Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 53


Here, we should see as a continuation of episode 47.

By looking at the numbers carefully, I suddenly realized what the halmoni’s true number could be. It is 11 which actually makes 2. Hence we have 20, 21 and 22 where she plays a huge role. One might argue for this hypothesis, for she appears in episode 5 and 7. However, combine these two numbers together, then you have 12. A combination of 2 and 1, which is similar to 11 and 2. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the Webtoonist made her appear again, when Baek Junmin (the criminal embodies 5) entered the spotlight: 5 *2 = 10 or 47 = 11. But what does the number 1 and 0 mean.

1: Isolation, Ego, and Domination

The number 1 is often associated with leadership, individuality, and beginnings. However, its negative side can symbolize isolation, self-centeredness, and authoritarianism.

  1. Isolation and Loneliness
    • As a singular entity, 1 can represent someone who stands alone, often by choice or force, cutting themselves off from others. Park Namwook has always excluded the athlete from the “parties” (chapter 9) or other events like this one: (chapter 37) Buying in secret junk food.
    • This isolation can stem from arrogance or a belief in their superiority, which distances them from meaningful relationships. (chapter 52) Hence he shouldn’t be seen as a true friend of the champion. He views himself as the better one: manners, temper and decisions. The reality is that he is never making any decision.
    • In Jinx, the antagonistic figures, such as the surrogate parents, could embody this isolation by choosing control over connection, leaving the leads emotionally detached and alienated. Hence the grandmother keeps asking favors from her grandchild (chapter 11) (chapter 47)
  2. Selfishness and Ego
    • Negatively, 1 reflects the “me-first” mentality, where the individual prioritizes their needs, desires, and ambitions at the expense of others.
    • In villains, this could manifest as manipulative behavior or exploitation, as they treat others as tools rather than equals. (chapter 1)
  3. Domination and Tyranny
    • In its extreme, 1 represents absolute power—one ruler, one decision-maker—leading to oppressive or dictatorial behavior. Hence Kim Dan could never get a job as PT at a hospital. (chapter 1) But it is the same for the champion who got his “gym” stolen from his hyung: (chapter 22) He is acting here like a tyrant.
    • This can parallel the way antagonists in Jinx drain others emotionally and physically, exercising control in a way that leaves the protagonists powerless and diminished. They feel jinxed. That’s the reason why I added bats on the illustration. I came to this revelation thanks to this article:

The hidden vampires in Jinx

And naturally, these two descriptions reminded me of the manager from Team Black. He slaps or yells at the champion, each time he is frustrated. Then he trusts no one (chapter 52), spreading rumors, mistrust and doubts. (chapter 46) This would explain the champion’s emptiness and darkness: (chapter 29) As for the halmoni, she embodies the last type of emotional vampire:

This description reminded me of the last conversation between the doctor and his grandmother. (chapter 53) The request for another sacrifice and promise. It is also possible that she represents a combination of another type, though we didn’t see her complaining too much in season 1:

Maybe the phone call during the night, her repetitive requests the next morning (chapter 21) and Kim Miseon’s reproach to Kim Dan could be seen as an indirect allusion. And if my interpretation about her number is correct, then we would have a good explanation why Kim Dan was unable to perceive her true nature, but also why she is so selfish.

11: The false spiritual guide

The number 11 in numerology is often referred to as a “Master Number,” carrying profound spiritual energy and potential for enlightenment. However, its heightened sensitivity and intense energy can also manifest negatively. While they are visionaries, individuals influenced by 11 sometimes struggle to transform their dreams into reality. Their focus on idealism or spirituality may distract them from practical implementation. People influenced by 11 may feel overwhelmed by their internal energy, leading to high levels of stress and emotional instability. Their sensitivity to external stimuli can make them prone to chaotic thoughts and anxiety when life feels out of balance. The number’s dual nature can create internal conflict, making it difficult for individuals to find stability. They may oscillate between extremes—hope and despair, inspiration and doubt. Despite their innate strength, they may overly depend on others for validation or support, sometimes at the expense of their own goals. This arises from their deep need to connect and help others, which can leave them emotionally exhausted or vulnerable to exploitation​ [for more read Numerologist.com​ ] Being a master number, 11 carries an intense energy that can be difficult to manage. People influenced by it might feel an excessive burden to achieve greatness, leading to burnout or feelings of inadequacy. This can prevent them from realizing their full potential, as they fear taking risks or making mistakes. This can lead them to remain passive. ​[Building Beautiful Souls] Finally, the number 11 would also explain why she is only focusing on herself. Emotional intensity, indecisiveness, imbalance and duality, overwhelm and pressure reflects the grandmother’s personality, as the latter always avoids conflicts and prefers running away from reality.

And that’s how I came to the following conclusion. Season 1 stands under the color of red. Note that the halmoni is always seen wearing red or dark pink clothes in the past (chapter 48), just like Park Namwook is wearing a red t-shirt with Team Black on it. These were the vampires who were draining out their “boys”. However, in the last episode, Park Namwook is no longer wearing the red t-shirt, but a blue one. (chapter 53) Only the logo is red. (chapter 53) It is important, because it announces the manager’s resignation. He doesn’t want to become responsible for the mess. Unconsciously, he is no longer claiming to be the owner of the gym. Furthermore, notice that the grandmother desires to return to the West Coast in order to see an ocean of “fire”. (chapter 53) This shows that she is longing for warmth and red colors. Yet, the color of the sea is rather green or blue. As you can see, everything is pointing out that the couple had to overcome the antagonists from season 1, the emotional vampires, who were so close to them than none of them realized that they were the origins of their suffering. And now, if you look at my table again:

Chapter 1Chapter 1Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 20
Loan SharksPerverted Hospital DirectorHeo Namwook/ the loan shark and his minionsHeo Namwook and minionsHeo Namwook and minionsHeo NamwookLoan Shark and Perverted Hospital Director
Chapter 37Chapter 46Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49
Mysterious MFC agentHeo Namwook and minionsFirst appearance of Choi GilseokBaek Junmin’s first appearanceChoi Gilseok meeting Kim DanBaek Junmin meeting Joo Jaekyung and Director Choi switching the spray thanks to his minions

you will realize that the villains’ shades are blue, black and green. (chapter 35) In episode 16 and 17, the presence of the sun is a reference to the MMA fighter, it is announcing his arrival. This corresponds to the color I had detected with the first scheme: MFC with the blue “ring” embodies this pigment, just like the ocean. In other words, blue should be the dominant color in season 2, and in Taoism blue stands for YIN! On the other hand, Kim Dan also represents red with his name. Moreover, if you look at the numbers of the quoted episodes again, you will realize that the villains are strongly connected to the number 10 and as such one and zero. Thus Director Choi Gilseokf’s phone number is 010-1…. (chapter 46)

0: Emptiness, Neglect, and Obliteration

The number 0, often associated with nothingness and potential, has a shadowy counterpart that embodies destruction, void, and futility.

  1. Emptiness and Neglect
    • 0 represents a void—a lack of presence, empathy, or nurturing. Antagonists or villains embodying this aspect may not just harm directly but leave a gaping hole in the lives of those they affect. (chapter 10) Here, the manager showed no empathy or understanding in front of the champion. (chapter 37) He never complimented him for his hard work at all.
    • In Jinx, this could reflect the emotional neglect or apathy the antagonists or villains show, as their actions drain the main leads of energy, motivation, and a sense of self-worth.
  2. Annihilation and Destruction
    • As the symbol of “nothingness,” 0 can represent obliteration. It suggests an absence of growth, hope, or meaning, as antagonists and villains tear down rather than build up. (chapter 46) With these words, the manager creates a negative atmosphere, therefore there is no longer any trust and loyalty among the members.
    • The destructive aspect of 0 mirrors how the surrogate parents or antagonists in Jinx consume and drain the leads, leaving them emotionally barren and mentally fragmented. (chapter 10)
  3. Cycles of Futility
    • As a closed loop, 0 suggests an endless cycle, often one of despair or entrapment.
    • In the Korean Manhwa, this seems to symbolize how the protagonists are trapped in abusive dynamics with antagonists and villains (the loan sharks, director Choi, MFC and the way they treat their athletes like pawns) who repeatedly exploit and manipulate them, making escape seem impossible. The grandmother created the illusion that Kim Dan would be able to pay off the debts by working hard (chapter 18), until the champion confronted the protagonist with reality.

And if we analyze the number 46 (as a representative of 10), this is what we have:

46: Cycles of Dependence and Exploitation

  • 4 (Stability/Control) combined with 6 (Responsibility/Dependence) often represents a dynamic of obligation and control, but when tied to antagonism, it takes on a darker tone: a cycle where the protagonist is trapped in an exploitative relationship, unable to break free due to misplaced responsibility or imposed stability. Thus in episode 46 from jinx, the champion tried to express his expectations about the manager and coach (chapter 46), however Park Namwook refused to accept such a behavior from his boss. Therefore he put his pupil under pressure.
    • The surrogate parent attempted to enforce a toxic sense of responsibility (6) on the athlete, ensuring control (4) over his actions and emotions. However, the champion tried to escape from this by running away: (chapter 46) He avoided a confrontation. This number symbolizes how the lead feels burdened by obligations imposed by his oppressor, who positions himself as provider of “stability” while actually fostering dependence and draining his victim. And naturally, in the same chapter, we have a similar interaction between Heo Manwook, the minion and his hyung, the real boss: (chapter 46) Here, the director was reminding him of his mistakes and obligations. However, this time the boss chose to become proactive and responsible.

Since I linked season 1 to red, it dawned on me why Cheolmin or the perverted hospital director didn’t appear in that season. (chapter 1) (chapter 13) They are strongly intertwined with the color green and as such blue. In literature, art, and psychology, the color blue often represents calmness, loyalty, and introspection.This fits to the description made by the author concerning season 2. The latter would focus more on emotions and thoughts than on the plot. And now, it is time to reveal why in the illustration I added the number 9.

Number 9 and its significance

This number stands for “change and help”. In this part, I will only focus on the following numbers: 9, 18, 19, 27, 29, 36, 39, 45 and 49. In episode 9, the champion was asked to take care of Doc Dan. The latter needed help, for he was too drunk to return home on his own. (chapter 9) The leopard agreed and that’s how they came to argue about his home the next morning: (chapter 10)- So from 9 to 18, the story is focusing on the doctor’s home. In episode 18, Joo Jaekyung invites the poor physical therapist to his home. (chapter 18) In this episode, both main leads refuse the assistance from the other. Kim Dan is bothered that Joo Jaekyung paid off the debts, while the other dismissed the worries from the PT: (chapter 18) Then in episode 19, Joo JAekyung is not asking for his “help”, until he calls him. But even here, he is refusing to prepare his partner: (chapter 19) As for Kim Dan, the latter doesn’t feel truly needed as PT, hence he is already thinking about taking another job: (chapter 19) Then in episode 27, Kim Dan offers his assistance. (chapter 27) He encourages his VIP client to take a break by remaining by his side. However, this attempt fails, as in episode 29 , (chapter 29) the champion rejects the idea of resting for a day. Then after the incident with the article, at no moment Kim Dan offers his assistance to help the champion. He remains totally passive, (chapter 36) it shows his passivity and neglect. He doesn’t feel responsible for the champion’s career or safety. His concerns earlier were rather superficial. This explicates why he is also treated like a doll. Then in episode 39, for the first time, the doctor is requesting his help and assistance. (chapter 39) The problem is that it is related to a drug and sex. This has nothing to do with his job or career. Interesting is that in episode 45, for the first time, Joo Jaekyung voiced his needs to have him as a PT: (chapter 45). Without him, he can not do it. But here is the thing. In the locker room, the champion chose himself to treat his pain, he selected the pain relief spray over the doctor’s hands. (chapter 49) This means that in that scene, Joo Jaekyung refused to let Kim Dan treat him out of doubts and mistrust which were triggered by the manager’s words and the pictures. As you can see, the number 9 is strongly intertwined with help, but also with a change. The beginning of a new circle. Thus I am expecting in the new season, chapter 54, that for the first time, Joo Jaekyung will ask for help and support. But he can not ask Park Namwook or others from Team Black… he has only one true friend and that would be Cheolmin, unless he finds the protagonist immediately. At the same time, I would like to point out another observation. What is the opposite of 9? Naturally 6, which represents the end of a circle. And now, look at this:

Chapter 6Chapter 26Chapter 36Chapter 42Chapter 46

The end of Joo Jaekyung’s torment. He doesn’t need to chase after him.

Kim Dan is overcoming his fears. It is an allusion to Heo Manwook and his minions. On the other hand, the champion can not play with Kim Dan.

The end of a peaceful cohabitation, the return of fears from Joo Jaekyung (his jinx)
the presence of a scheme

The return of the mint-goblin, and as such the doctor’s fears (low self-esteem) At the same time, we shouldn’t overlook the presence of a third person in that flat who could appear in season 2.

The villains are exposed: they are now targeting Team Black and in particular Kim Dan.

The number 6 is strongly intertwined with regression, negative influence, schemes, antagonists and villains. Moreover, I detected a link between 6 and green/grey. That’s the reason why I am expecting more than ever in season 2, the fight between two green: nature versus money, fun versus seriousness, justice versus crimes/schemes. But in order to take place, the main couple needs to reflect about their own true desires in their life. What do they want exactly? A PT or a friend, a lover or a partner, a family or a company, justice or a scapegoat, fame or happiness?

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

Jinx: Loves me, loves me not 📆 ❤️ 💔 – part 1 (Daily Jinx Advent Insight 6)

Before starting writing the series “Daily Jinx Advent Insight”, I had already announced to release this essay. However, since my time is limited and I desire to keep my promise, I chose to combine these two series together. Hence the analysis “Loves me, loves me not” will have many parts. I can’t compose long essays each day.

During the first season, some Jinx-philes used to contact me and ask me the following question. Does Joo Jaekyung already love Kim Dan and if yes, when did he fall in love with him? As you can imagine, I will try to give an accurate answer in this series “Loves me, loves me not”. On the other hand, it is necessary to keep in mind that here, I will focus more on the emotional side of “love” than the one defined by Erich Fromm. Love is care, respect, knowledge and responsibility. Nevertheless, this raises the following question. How can we measure or notice his affection for the physical therapist? What are the signs for love? For that, we need to return to the beginning of the story Jinx.

The strawberry hamster and the mint goblin

What did Joo Jaekyung incite to drop the green-haired guy for the physical therapist? (Chapter 1) Imagine that he was in the middle of an intercourse. Yet he felt the need to have someone else by his side. It was, as if the grass on the other side was looking greener. 😉 Yes, in this scene, I detect parallels between Choi Heesung and Joo Jaekyung. (Chapter 33) On the one hand, the celebrity felt attracted to Kim Dan, on the other hand he had already sensed that the green-haired uke was greedy and even too passive. He was letting the celebrity fuck him. Yet there was neither real interaction nor sensuality between them. Hence the athlete could call Kim Dan during their sex. Funny is that the other didn’t mind at all, or in the worst case he didn’t even notice it. This shows not only the deafness and blindness of the mint goblin, but also the absence of communication and understanding in their “couple”. It was, as though the green-haired uke had submitted himself of becoming a sex toy. So by recalling the doctor, there is no doubt that the athlete couldn’t have voiced this change verbally. Why was he thinking of someone else during the intercourse? He was just simply not feeling it, the “great fuck”. In other words, Joo Jaekyung was attracted to Kim Dan by lust! In my previous analysis entitled Daily Jinx Advent Insight 3, I had pointed out the importance of “lust” in a relationship, as the latter represents the first step of love. As a source for this statement, I used this video:

Lust and love, though both powerful forces, differ significantly in how they manifest and endure. Lust primarily centers on physical attraction and thrives on fantasy, often fueled by an idealized version of the person rather than a grounded, realistic connection. While lust can feel intense initially, it typically weakens over time as the novelty fades. Love, in contrast, deepens with shared experiences, evolving into a bond built on emotional connection and mutual understanding. Unlike lust’s pursuit of excitement and thrill, love seeks stability, turning a romantic partner into a lifelong friend. Finally, love is selfless, focusing on the well-being and happiness of the other person, whereas lust tends to be more self-centered, driven by personal desires rather than a lasting commitment.

Since the green-haired uke only saw the athlete as a cash cow (“milking”) (chapter 42), it becomes clear why the athlete’s lust for the mint goblin couldn’t last. The latter was only interested in his money and not even in his body. Thus he didn’t try to bring thrill into their relationship or even seduce him. And now, you comprehend why Mingwa let us see such a scene in the beginning of the story. (chapter 2) He had never done it before. As for the champion, Manhwa-lovers can grasp that since their relationship was purely physical (not even accompanied with romanticism due to the athlete’s jinx), the lust from the champion’s side could only weaken overtime. When the athlete met the actor, he had not met the green-haired man before. Hence the sportsman was sitting at the bar looking more or less for a new partner. (chapter 33) So the relationship between the “prostitute” and the fighter must have lasted around 3 months, the same amount of time than with the physical therapist. The uke had put no effort, for in verity he was relying on the athlete’s jinx. The latter just needed him, and no one was willing to experience such a rough sex session. The reason why I gave the green-haired uke the nickname “mint goblin” is the following. He brought some fresh breathe in the athlete’s life, for contrary to his past lovers, this one didn’t run away. However, as time passes on, the mint taste couldn’t mask his corrupted mind and heart. He was passive and rotten deep inside. But there’s more to it. Thanks to the mint goblin, the athlete learned an important lesson. It was possible that someone could match his strength in bed. Yes, the latter wasn’t passing out like the others. Deep down, the star could sense that he was no monster, a criticism he had received from the actor.

Thanks to this new perception, it dawned on me why the athlete felt the need to reveal this secret to the mint goblin. Note that “lust” is strongly intertwined with “fantasy and as such romanticism”. So by exposing his odd belief, he desired to mask even his own attraction, so that the goblin wouldn’t notice that he was lusting after him. No one should know his type, his true weakness. Simultaneously, this revelation helped him to conceal and protect his own heart. He wouldn’t be exploited. With his jinx, he didn’t see himself as totally vulnerable, for he was actually denying the existence of a future close relationship. The uke could get replaced, he just needed someone and that was it. In other words, the revelation of the jinx was like a death sentence to their liaison. (chapter 2) There would be nothing left in the future, it was a work relationship. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Kim Dan had to end their relationship at the end of the season. Because of his confession, their relationship was doomed to fail. It stood under the sign of “jinx”. We could say that the champion was receiving his karma for treating people like sex toys or surrogate fighters.

Joo Jaekyung and lust

The moment I made a connection between Choi Heesung and the green-haired guy, I had another revelation. Joo Jaekyung had criticized the actor for switching his partners constantly (chapter 33). The irony is that as soon as he saw Kim Dan (chapter 1), he got attracted to this pretty and cute new face. However, contrary to the comedian, he didn’t realize this, for the athlete is not someone who thinks deeply. He acts rather on his emotions, exactly like his mentor Park Namwook. Since lust is the first stage of love, the recipient of his “attraction” needed to give him a signal that he was interested in him. I doubt that the celebrity would have made a move on him, if the doctor had not made this mistake (chapter 1). Naturally, grabbing his phallus was the expression of the doctor’s masked sexual desires. This signifies that when the couple met for the first time, the grass appeared greener on the other side (medical world) for the first time. Since we have the first step of love in their relationship, we could say that the athlete was already in love with Kim Dan. While “lust” only represents the first stage in a love relationship, I decided to examine their relationship on this aspect.

Sex toy and lust

Since in the beginning of the story, the athlete was using his partners as sex toys, I detected a huge progression in chapter 33. This episode stands under the sign of LUST. The presence of the dildo is exposing the switch of the doctor’s position. The physical therapist is now treated like a human who can have his own pleasure. Under this new light, one might conclude that the actor was rather acting under the influence of “lust” in the car scene: (chapter 33) We have the novelty aspect (bringing thrill into their relationship) and the champion’s selfishness. The sex toy was utilized as a “punishment”, for the athlete was upset due to his jealousy. However, this perception is still too short-sighted. You will laugh, as soon as you read my new interpretation.

When Kim Dan started spending time with Choi Heesung, Joo Jaekyung feared that the actor could appear as the “greener grass”. He was generous, smiling and would compliment the young man. But more importantly, the fighter was tormented, because he didn’t know his soulmate’s type. He feared that the actor was totally the hamster’s type. The champion was exposing his insecurities, for he didn’t know if Kim Dan was actually attracted to him or not. Remember how the cute hamster kept rejecting his advances (chapter 8) (chapter 27) Consequently, the man had to bring up the deal constantly. Besides, their relationship started because of money. Finally, I would like Jinx-lovers to keep in mind the doctor’s lie: he had previous relationships with men. (chapter 3) As you know, I am quite certain that the athlete had sensed his lie (thus he utilized no condoms later). Yet, Kim Dan never came out with the truth either. This is relevant, for there could be lingering doubts from the MMA star’s side. Since the athlete had no idea about the doctor’s taste and physical attraction, Joo Jaekyung worried that his partner would start fantasizing the gumiho. Under this light, my avid readers can grasp why in episode 33, it was important for the champion to use the sex toy first. Initially it was to exhaust the doctor so that the latter would no longer feel attracted to Choi Heesung. Yes, it was to kill in him “lust”. Moreover, the moment the young man asked for his assistance (chapter 33), Joo Jaekyung had the impression that he was needed. Finally, don’t forget how this scene ended. Kim Dan was finally admitting that he was really sensitive to him: (chapter 33) However, this desire was accompanied with rejection and denial too. This explicates why the champion didn’t know how to interpret Kim Dan’s thoughts and emotions. (chapter 33) Was Kim Dan feeling the same way than him or not? Did Kim Dan desire him or not? And this leads me to the next sex session: (chapter 34) For the first time, the athlete was divulging his physical attraction and desire towards the doctor. He seduced him with his own body. Yet, in order to keep the upper hand in their relationship, he was the one who was determining how they would have sex: (chapter 34) As you can see, during season 1, it took a long time for the athlete to admit “lust and physical attraction” towards the doctor. One might reply that the celebrity had already admitted this to the physical therapist: (chapter 29) However, this confession is connected to the anus, and not to the doctor’s face and as such identity. Thus I don’t consider it as an admission that Kim Dan was his type. One might object too that he had already wooed the doctor before next to the swimming pool. (chapter 27) The divergence between these two chapters is that in the first scene, the athlete had not planned this. He was acting on his instincts and emotions, while in the living room, he was seducing the doctor on purpose. (chapter 34) I would even add that he gave more freedom to Kim Dan to decide if he would accept his offer or not. As you can see, Joo Jaekyung was learning to internalize the notion “consent and respect”. Here, the doctor could have refused… the evidence is his reaction at the gym, the slap on the athlete’s hand. That’s how I realized the strong connection between the athlete’s ignorance about his soulmate’s taste (partner type) and his consent. Respecting the doctor’s boundary meant to trust that the doctor was attracted to him and accepted him as a partner.

The signification behind the forgotten confession

And this brings me to my final thought. When Kim Dan confessed this in the States (chapter 39), this could only make the athlete happy first. He had the impression that he had finally discovered his soulmate’s taste and secret: he was also feeling the same… LUST. Yes, I am not writing love, but lust on purpose. Why? The irony is that the athlete was not recognizing that he was feeling more than lust for Kim Dan. He was already in love. 😉 However, so far he had only been busy focusing on Kim Dan’s type. Was the man also lusting after him or not? Under this new perspective, Manhwa-lovers can grasp why Joo Jaekyung asked this to Kim Dan in the dining room: (chapter 41) He didn’t expect a love confession He wanted to know if Kim Dan was finally accepting him as his partner, if he desired him too. Yes, gradually the possibility of dating was slowly emerging. Like mentioned in the introduction, lust is just the beginning of love. So should Kim Dan have remembered this night in the hotel room, he would have come not only to deny his feelings for the athlete, but also he would have reduced this “I love you” to lust, just a physical reaction due to the drug. A new version of the blue night, the only difference is that that night he kept his thoughts to himself.

In my eyes, it was important for the star not to know if the doctor was attracted to him, for the latter was making the same mistake than his frenemy: confusing lust with love. That way, their relationship wouldn’t have improved, as time passed on. They would have remained simply “fuck buddies”. Nevertheless, that’s not what the fighter truly desires deep down. He is also looking for companionship. Hence Mingwa confronted him with reality and forced him to make a choice: (chapter 45) What did the athlete imagine here? A fake love confession from Kim Dan, a stan trying to live out a fantasy. He was expecting “dating”, a notion he couldn’t accept, for he was confusing “lust” with “love”. That’s the reason why he couldn’t accept Doc Dan’s present and “gratitude”. They sounded like fake, especially since he was showing respect to the celebrity and not to the man himself! Yes, even in that scene, the PT was still hiding his own true emotions and attraction towards the handsome man. Joo JAekyung has no idea that Kim Dan views him as “perfect” (chapter 1) despite his injured shoulder: the muscles, the skin, the handsome face. He has never voiced such thoughts in front of his VIP client.He always kept them to himself.

That’s how I recognized why these two men stopped having sex after that time. Joo Jaekyung needed to learn how to distinguish love from lust. This explicates why the star got more upset with this departure (chapter 53) than with this one: (chapter 53) He let him go, for he anticipated that the latter would remain by his side. In addition, he didn’t feel the need to have sex the whole night, as his affection had already moved to the next stage. There was more than physical attraction and desire.

That’s it for today. In the next part, I will expose how we can see the champion falling in love. I will divulge the signs helping to identify that the wolf is under the spell of the cute hamster.


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

Jinx: Passions in Purple💜: Jealousy and Joy 😄 in Jinx – Part 1

1. Purple in Jinx

The new special episode reinforced my interpretation about colors in Jinx. The shades are not just beautiful, but also full of symbolism and insight. They indicate the characters’ personality, their mood and transformation. As my illustration is indicating it, purple was predominant in the new special chapter. (special episode 2). This pigment is a combination of blue and red/pink. And now pay attention to the last panel. Potato is blushing while wearing dark-green clothes, his lover is standing in front of the blue sky and his skin is rather pale. His hanbok has purple and white shades. As you can see, this wonderful night represents their union: white meets black, blue meets red and yellow (hence purple and green). The light from outside contrasts to the darkness of the shelter. That’s how purple came to shine. On the other hand, since Heesung is acting as the master, and the maknae is relegated to the role of a male servant, the actor is exposing his inner darkness. He is longing for dominance and possession. (special episode 2) To conclude, Heesung is gradually showing his true colors: the hidden black spot behind his perfect white skin. However, dark shouldn’t be reduced to evil, for in Taoism, black has another signification. It represents yin, the feminine energy. This means that thanks to that night, Heesung could display his motherly and caring side. Therefore he kissed, hugged Yoon-Gu and stroke his cheek. But this doesn’t end here. After the intercourse, he caressed his lover’s head. (special episode 2). One might argue that in the last picture, he was not entirely honest, for his eyes were closed. Besides, he was just paying him a compliment. Nevertheless, this gesture is still exposing that the actor is opening up his mind and heart to the chow-chow. He is no longer indifferent like in the past! This stands in opposition to his gifts to the members from Team Black and Kim Dan. (chapter 31) The latter reflected his superficiality and detachment. How so? It is because he had bought them. Moreover, his manager was tasked to carry the presents. (chapter 31) It was, as if the manager was cursing him and his gifts. As you can see, there was no direct contact between him and the beneficiaries of his generosity. Money was between them in the end: Heesung, the manager and the members from Team Black. This could only corrupt their relationship. However, the pat on the head between the two second leads symbolizes genuineness and real gratitude. (special episode 2) Therefore it is not astonishing that Potato feels so moved by such a caress that he starts blushing. His dream has always been to be patted on the head. (chapter 23) This signifies that the comedian fulfilled one of the young fighter’s dreams. Yet, the color in the last panel is not purple, but coral peach. Why? The reason is simple. The emperor is linked to red (anger, blood thirst), whereas the maknae embodies yellow. The pigment exposes the young stan’s ignorance, for he was not able to detect his hero’s true colors and as such his flaws. In his eyes, he was just a “god”, as he embodied perfection. Thus he had a pink version of his idol. Moreover, observe that this dream is connected to light, day and publicness, while the other is linked to darkness, night and privacy. (special episode 2) The young fighter and his lover are slowly discovering the existence of a double life (public/professional versus private life). This signifies that Potato is learning to distinguish between image (hero) and reality. In fact, he only knows the MMA fighter Joo Jaekyung and not the private man with his troubled past. As for the actor, with his blog (chapter 30), pictures and sponsoring (chapter 31) he never drew a line between his private and professional life either. He acted, as though he had no secret. That’s the reason why his manager knew about his tragic love life. This explicates as well why he used the “deal” with Park Namwook to go on a date with Kim Dan. (chapter 32) The gumiho never felt the need to hide his sexual orientation, it was never a taboo. It indicates that he felt safe among his colleagues and agency. Therefore the manager could talk so freely about his love life in front of others. (chapter 30) There was no secrecy and privacy. Manhwaphiles should keep in their mind that homosexuality in MMA world and boxing is a huge taboo. So if Potato’s homosexuality were to be exposed to the netizens, this could ruin his career. This is also valid for Joo Jaekyung. Other fighters could question their manhood. And this brings me back to that night. Purple is strongly connected to yin and as such to the moon, like you can detect in the illustrations below.

We have a perfect illustration of this flow of colors in Jinx. In episode 20, yang was dominant in the bathroom scene. It was about the doctor’s first ejaculation and as such about his manhood. The fighter (yang) acted like the teacher. Hence (chapter 20) the main pigments were yellow, rosa, red and orange, whereas on the bed, the roles and topics were switched. Kim Dan’s feminine side was the dominant one. His motherly and caring instincts were so strong that he had no problem to challenge his sex partner. (chapter 21) Here, black and purple were the dominant pigments, similar to the sex scene from the special episode. The moon stands for softness, quietness, but also mystery and receptiveness. And during the night of episode 21, the doctor taught to Joo Jaekyung the importance of family. Besides, the athlete discovered a secret from the physical therapist. Though the former was pushed away, he didn’t react violently. Joo Jaekyung remained passive. This was the influence of Kim Dan’s yin. (chapter 21) And the next morning, the emperor chose to show his motherly and caring side to Kim Dan and the halmeoni. (chapter 21)

And now, it is time to return our attention to the scene in the shelter. (special episode 2) First, the person associated with purple is not Heesung, but Potato. 😮 It is because we need to differentiate between interior and exterior. We can detect this in many panels during that night, (special episode 2) Potato is literally glowing, while the other is just wearing a purple hanbok (disguise). One might wonder why. The answer is simple. Potato stands for innocence, reflection and ignorance. Contrary to his new role model (Kim Dan), he has no real prejudices against sex. He doesn’t view it as dirty. This explicates why Potato is always surprised by his own pleasure and always claims his ignorance. (special episode 1) (special episode 2) He doesn’t make quick conclusions. The irony is that by expressing his ignorance and as such denying the existence of his own pleasure, he is actually challenging his gumiho. The latter is not recognized as a good lover! 😂 Moreover, it was, as though the young man had not been thrilled and excited contrary to his partner. This means that the maknae is pushing his companion to become more creative in sex. He is hoping that Potato would come to confess his joy and excitement as well. This means that Heesung has to find new ways to impress and woo his companion. Innocence and ignorance are the best weapons to tame the mythological creature. Simultaneously, it implies the actor’s underlining desire: he wishes to share his happiness with others!! As you can see, though Heesung is indeed a red flag [Further explanations are below], he shouldn’t be simply reduced to the stigma “jerk”. Exactly like the terrible emperor, he also has redeeming qualities. Moreover, this made me realize that his words are turning into a reality: (special chapter 1) Potato has become his “fuck buddy”. By developing friendship through sex, he is not realizing that he is falling for the young fighter. Thus I am suspecting that in the past, he paid too much attention to emotions and less to sex… he was not trying to give pleasure to his sex partners in the first place. Now, he is doomed to find ways to give pleasure to his “fuck buddy”. And that’s how he is learning to become a responsible person.

But there exists another reason why this night stood under the sign of purple. It is because Yoon-Gu became the actor’s perfect lover. (special episode 2) That’s why the actor was glowing like a star after their passionate role-play. The presence of “stars” indicates his excitement and joy. His heart is racing, hence he is full of joy and feels rejuvenated. Moreover, the Webtoonist already implied the link between Potato and purple in the following scenes: (special episode 1) The young sportsman’s innocent statement brought Heesung to another galaxy. It was, as if he had entered a new world. Then we see Potato carrying a purple towel, when he is alone with Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 23) Don’t forget that his family name is Hwang which means yellow in Chinese. That’s the reason why I don’t think, the purple towel is random. One might argue that the towel belongs to the gym, and they got changed later: (chapter 36) Park Namwook selected black towels, a sign that he was taking over the gym. But the purple towel announces the moment, where the doctor and Potato gets closer to each other. (chapter 23) For the first time, the young fighter showed a certain curiosity towards the physical therapist: the beginning of “Enlightenment” and friendship. Under this new light, Manhwaworms can grasp why Heesung was under Potato’s spell during this intercourse. (special episode 2) But we have another evidence that Heesung has always been looking for a “purple” person. It is because he picked up a purple suit for Kim Dan. (chapter 32) This means that this night stands under the sign of Yoon-Gu! The latter came to shine to the point that he affected his lover… that’s how the actor blushed more and more. (special episode 2) This observation brings me to my next interpretation.

Thanks to Potato, Heesung became closer to his true self: a yang with a black spot. And what is the opposite to purple? Dark red… full of passion. The actor could expose his possessiveness and jealousy, though he masked it behind a role-play. (special episode 2) (special episode 2) Remember my previous analysis about the actor. The latter has always longed to be recognized and admired as a man and not as a god or star. And now, you comprehend why after this intercourse, the gumiho made the following suggestion: (special episode 2) This exposes his desire for companionship and his loneliness. Additionally, it shows that he desires to get closer to his sex partner, to include him in his life. Once again, Manhwaphiles can detect the absence of boundaries between private and professional life. However, by making such a suggestion, he is not realizing that he is ignoring the MMA fighter’s career. But wait …notice that they had sex in a shed. But this was just an illusion, for they were having sex in the actor’s white bedroom. (special episode 2)

2. Purple between dream and reality

This image (special episode 2) brought the readers back to reality. In fact, this picture indicates that all this wonderful sex session in the shelter took place in the comedian’s head. (special episode 2) With that, I am implying that the actor imagined a scene from a historical drama (Joseon, hierarchical society and the shed). It was interesting, because for the first time, the author allowed us to penetrate Heesung’s mysterious inner world. It shows his “creativity”, inspired by his last shooting (special episode 2) and his own desires. As you can see, the sex session is a mixture of dream and reality which is reflected in the color purple.

It shows that the purple from Yoon-Gu pushed Heesung to become creative and meditate. Under this new light, it becomes understandable why Heesung became more honest and genuine after that spicy night. Sincerity is strongly connected to spirituality. In addition, in my previous essay, I stated that this night corresponds to the revival of the second lead. (special episode 2) He is blushing, he is enjoying this moment with his partner. He has the impression that his dream has come true. In his mind, he was breaking rules. A prince has sex not only with a man, but with a guard, a commoner. Secondly, they were having sex in the shed, hence they could get caught. He felt like he was playing with fire. This shows that the man enjoys thrilling situations. This explains his blushing in this scene: (chapter 34) He was not shocked or disgusted, when he saw Kim Dan having sex with the champion (chapter 34). In fact, he got aroused. Hence I am suspecting that Heesung’s life lesson in this scene was to respect “privacy”, he can not meddle in people’s life and relationships, just because of his belief “soulmate” and selfish desires. (chapter 33) Under this new light, his visit in the sauna appears like an intrusion. (chapter 34) He knew about the emperor’s schedule, a sign that he was somehow “monitoring” the main lead’s moves. Here, I feel the need to include this video exposing Heesung’s dark side.

0:31 overwhelming affection – love bombing (chapter 31) 1:07 too much quality time 1:33 saying “I love you” too soon (chapter 35) 2:13 constant texting 2:49 constant monitoring (special episode 1) With this statement, he is actually taking over Potato’s schedule and life 3:19 jealousy and possessiveness (special episode 2)

And now, it is time to explain why Heesung fell under Potato’s spell. It is because Potato listened to all his requests without protesting. He allowed him to be the one leading the sex session. He made no request either. That’s why Heesung patted Potato’s head. (special episode 2) He not only had so much fun, but also he felt powerful. I believe that his possessiveness comes from his social status. His wealth comes from his family, therefore he feels like he doesn’t possess anything on his own. Everything is related to “money”.

This sex session symbolizes “transgression”, whereas in verity, it just took place in the bed. Here, my avid readers can sense the actor’s inner conflict. Though he likes transgressing social norms, he is still preferring conformity. He doesn’t want to stand out too much. [For more read the essay La Vie En Rose ] This interpretation leads me to my next statement. Their first night together also stands under the sign of “infraction”. He disliked to have sex with virgins (special episode 1). Then he still chose to have sex with Potato, though he knew that the young sportsman was drunk. (special episode 1) The irony is that though Potato had said, he was a virgin, the actor chose to ignore it. Hence he got shocked later, when he realized Potato’s age.. (special episode 1) There’s a huge gap, he appears as a “seductive” wolf like in the fairy tale “The Little Red Riding Hood” That’s how it dawned on me why Heesung will have problems in his relationship with Potato. It is related to his dishonesty and mistrust which he projects onto others. This explicates why he doubted about Yoon-Gu’s virginity. (special episode 1) And what is the synonym for “truth”? Reality and Real World!! And now, you understand why Heesung created a historical drama in his mind for the sex session. It was his way to avoid truth and honesty. He used the role play to expose his jealousy (special episode 2) and possessiveness. (special episode 2) He fears to expose his true self to others and especially to Potato. He could scare him, as he is much younger and less experienced. To conclude, this sex session was a combination of truth and lie. No wonder why Potato’s answer was “I don’t know”. (special episode 2) He was not swayed by this role-play, for he didn’t feel it genuine. He couldn’t see the vision Heesung had in his mind. On the other hand, this night exposes the emergence of feelings from the actor’s side. But contrary to his past, he is not saying “I love you” too quickly and easily. It is because his initial thought was to seek fun and entertainment and not fated love! (special episode 1)

3. Purple, Green and Rejection

At the same time, since this night (special episode 2) stands under the sign of dream and illusion, we should compare it to this love session: (chapter 44) After this wonderful moment, Kim Dan came back down to earth. His present got rejected, he was just viewed as a physical therapist and nothing more. (chapter 45) We also have a refusal in the special episode. Potato initially rejected the offer from his sex partner: (special episode 2) He refused saying that he would be “embarrassed”. However, here is the thing. When he proposed to visit his lover on set, he was running away and turning his back to him. (special episode 2) Moreover, his words were definitely spoken more softly with a lot of hesitations. Hence I am doubting that Heesung saw his offer (visit to the set) as an acceptance. From my point of view, we should envision that the comedian saw it as a rejection. Potato was actually refusing to become an actor like him, then he employed the word “embarrassment”. It was, as if he was ashamed to be seen close to the actor Heesung. Finally, we should compare the last panel with this one: (chapter 34) He was also running away after getting threatened and rejected. In other words, Potato didn’t realize that with his behavior, he had triggered Heesung’s jealousy, insecurity and anger. That’s why he has this cold gaze. (special episode 2) It is the same glaring than Joo Jaekyung’s (chapter 7) who was full of jealousy here! Thus I conclude that this special night ended on a bad note, though Potato had no idea. The fox is no longer amused. Because Heesung is not happy deep down, he is planning something!! (special episode 2) Moreover, Manhwaphiles should keep in mind that he is talking in the past: “I had a ball”.His joy was just short-lived.

Since he is displeased, I believe that this scene should be compared to this one! (chapter 33) Observe the parallels: (chapter 33) (special episode 2) Both seme are holding a cellphone in bed. While the emperor had already bought sex toys, the onomatopoeia “music note” is indicating that the gumiho sent a message. In my opinion, he must have ordered some sex toys. But why? It is because Potato brought him back to reality. Heesung has a false notion of love. Like mentioned in a previous episode, Heesung has a romanticized version of love, inspired from movies and fairy tales.

I am including this short video, because it reflects Heesung’s mentality perfectly. At the same time, it reminds us a little of Potato, though the latter is actually the positive version of the fox.

And now, you comprehend why Heesung stated, he had no problem to go after people who were in a relationship. (chapter 33) Simultaneously, Manhwaphiles can grasp why Heesung is now targeting Yoon-Gu, who only had eyes for “Joo Jaekyung”.

Potato put boundaries, when he said this: (special episode 2) He would be the one determining the type of visit. He is not giving up on his career as MMA fighter. He doesn’t want to become an extra, dependent on the actor’s generosity. (special episode 2) As you can see, Mingwa played with the contrast “dream versus reality”. And what is the color for jealousy? Green!

And when did this color appear in the special episode? It is related to the costumes of the guards. (special episode 2) Yes, we need to question ourselves what triggered Heesung’s fantasy for the role-play. (special episode 2) IT is not just because of the costumes. My hypothesis is that the guards are working as an item, you can observe this in the following two panels: (special episode 2) Two guards are following the prince Heesung. Then in this one, (special episode2), there are 4 guards working as two teams. In my opinion, Heesung noticed his loneliness which contrasts so much to the situation with the other actors. , (special episode 2) This scene triggered his envy and jealousy. He wanted to have someone by his side whom he could talk to. , 8special episode 2), Here, he thanked everyone, yet he was standing in the middle of the scene, far away from everyone. In reality, his “gratitude” was superficial, for his thank was addressed to no one in particular. Just empty words. Under this new light, Manhwalovers can understand why he made such a suggestion after the intercourse: (special episode 2) It is, because he really wanted to have someone by his side on set. He hoped to lose this sense of loneliness. He longed for companionship too. Therefore it is not surprising that the actor got upset, when Potato didn’t accept his offer so blindly. Like mentioned above, I am even doubting that he heard Potato’s suggestion. For him, it was a rejection, especially if you take his words in the shed seriously: (special episode 2) Turning his back to Heesung is like a disobedience, he is not looking at his lover.. But the color green is not just connected to negative connotations. This shade stands for growth, hope and restoration.

Note that the costume from the guard has different shades of green: dark-green, grey-green and pale green. (special episode 2) Each pigment of green has a different signification: dark green can symbolize balance, drive, money, greed and fertility, while pale green symbolizes peace.

In my opinion, the color green affected the young comedian on the set as well. He associated it with positive notions like calmness, hope, companionship and motivation. (special episode 2) That’s why the author created such a panel. Here, the color takes a bigger place than the costume itself, for you only see a part of the disguise. And this observation brings me back to Taoism and the colors. The green color corresponds to sunset or sunrise which makes me think of a moment of transition. This corresponds to the notion of change and as such growth. Moreover, it stands for balance between yin and yang, like quoted above. The shade implies an equity between female and male energy. And now, you comprehend why Mingwa used green light in the car scene: (chapter 33) On the one hand, it was an allusion to the emperor’s hidden jealousy. The latter had masked it as a challenge and game: But the shade is implying that the fighter was slowly calming down. He accepts the doctor’s embrace, he even grabs his phallus in order to give pleasure to his partner. (chapter 33) In the end, he did show a caring side to the doctor. (chapter 33) He knew that his lover was sensitive to his touch. He desired to give pleasure to his companion. Yes, I see some parallels between the sex scene in the car and the one in the shed: public place, the connection between work and love life, the miscommunication, the importance to satisfy his partner sexually, a challenge, the grabbing of the phallus: (special episode 2), the jealousy, the possessiveness… making sure that the companion is not looking elsewhere… but more importantly, both seme are and were unaware of their growing affection towards their “fuck buddy”. Yet, there exists a huge difference between these two sex sessions: THE KISS! (special episode 2) In the car scene, the champion never smooched the physical therapist. Nevertheless, Heesung knows the signification of a kiss, but since he was acting in the role-play, he didn’t pay too much attention to it. IT was part of the “game”.

Thanks to the color green, I had a new revelation. That’s why I selected this image (chapter 33) The points of suspension from Joo Jaekyung are exposing his “ignorance”. He doesn’t know what to do, when he sees Kim Dan like this. (chapter 33) The emperor has now regained control of his emotions, but he couldn’t interpret his emotions correctly (jealousy, longing for love, insecurities). Moreover, we shouldn’t forget that he has not associated the kiss to love yet. In the locker room, he kissed the “hamster” in order to protect him. He had been simply following his friend’s advice. Then in the swimming pool, he felt attracted towards him. (chapter 27) He had acted instinctively… but in the car, his emotions were clouding his judgement. The ejaculations brought him back to reality. He had somehow achieved his goal. He had no idea what to do after the intercourse. That’s why I believe that in this panel (chapter 33), we should see the older version of Potato: “I don’t know … Why did I act like that?” The color indicates a change within the figure. He had not sex like that with Kim Dan in the past (he was only focusing on his partner’s pleasure). Don’t forget that the doctor had begged him for help: (chapter 33) He had admitted his defeat. However, this sex scene had the opposite effect on the champion. It didn’t bring him any Enlightenment, he was still clueless and worried, because he felt, he was losing control of his life. (chapter 34) As a conclusion, he came to “deny” this reality. He rejected his own emotions, until he was challenged once again in the sauna.

And now, you comprehend why I am envisioning Heesung ordering sex toy in order to tame and even punish his chow-chow, similar to the scene in the car. There the pink dildo played a huge role in the car scene, a mixture of pleasure and punishment. If you read my previous essay about the second couple. you are aware of my hypothesis that Heesung enjoys BDSM deep down. And note that in the shed, Heesung talked about punishment. (special episode 2) In addition, I noticed that the fighter’s buttocks are red (special episode 2), a sign that Heesung must have grabbed and even slapped his lover’s butt: From my point of view, the actor has a different attitude than the champion on the bed: (special episode 2) He wants to renew the intercourse, he wants to prolong this fantasy…don’t forget that this man is trying to escape from reality. His belief “soulmate” is strongly intertwined with eternity. But happiness can only exist, when pain and misery are there. Without them, people wouldn’t be able to feel any joy and happiness. In other words, the actor has to internalize the notion of time and temporality as well. Humans are not eternal, thus they can get sick or even die.

5. Time and purple

Since Yin and Yang are connected to time, it signifies that colors are also connected to the moon. link Purple announces a new moon, while red symbolizes full moon. Interesting is that during that purple night, readers can’t see the moon at all. (special episode 2) This means that this sex session took place during the new moon. Hence we have the color purple… This corresponds to the actor’s transformation. He is revived… he has finally found his soulmate, but he is not aware of it yet. And now, pay attention to this scene: We have the color blue, (chapter 53) (chapter 53) There is no moon, only the artificial lights from the city. Hence I deduce that the couple is now entering in a new phases, there is a new moon soon. The absence of the moon corresponds to the doctor’s departure. Don’t forget that these panels took place on two different days. One thing is sure. The dominance of the blue symbolizes the dominance of Kim Dan in Joo Jaekyung’s life, but also the loss for the two characters. There is no warmth… yet calmness and softness. Joo Jaekyung is not throwing a tantrum. He is not breaking any sandbag or throwing away the letter. It shows the calming influence of Kim Dan over the champion. With his departure, he is pushing the athlete to face his own emotions and to analyze them. And now pay attention to the last panel from season 1: there are glimpses of purple: (chapter 53) It announces the start of Joo Jaekyung’s Enlightenment. He is on his way to recognize the source of his joy and happiness: Kim Dan as his companion. This signifies that Potato’s vision should come true in the end: (chapter 23) He will find joy by training other sportsmen, he is also longing for a “sparring” partner… He will recognize that friendship and family can be a source of joy. He needs to stop mistrusting people… And it is the same for Heesung. The latter chose dishonesty and manipulations out of fear and mistrust towards people.

Since yin and yang are connected to time, it reinforces my prediction that Joo Jaekyung will have a revelation in front of the sunset: (chapter 53) Red and yellow are strongly connected to Yang. The latter is conceived of as heaven, maleness, light, activity, and penetration..And now, you comprehend why I am expecting an Enlightenement from the athlete on the beach. Hence I am expecting that the champion will come to recognize the doctor’s true character there: he is strong, brave, manly and so selfless. He is not a baby like in the bathroom. Yes, I am expecting a new version of this scene (chapter 53), where both roles are switched. And now, it is your turn to reread the first season and interpret the sex scenes under the yin and yang aspects, like in this scene: : (chapter 39)

However, like you could see it in the title, I am planning to compose a second part… I left clues about the focus in the illustration.

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

Jinx: La Vie En Rose 🌹💖

1. A World in 3 colors: Pink, Black and Orange

Like the illustration is revealing it, for me, two colors were dominant in the special episode: pink and black. Yet, if you pay more attention to the self-made picture, you will notice a third shade: orange which is represented by the Chow-chow and the comedian’s robe. Since the latter plays a minor role in the last chapter, it is normal to examine this pigment first. Moreover, its explanation is even necessary to grasp the significance of the other colors: pink and black.

1. 1. The predator is showing his true colors

First, Choi Heesung was wearing an orange bathrobe. (Special episode) Then he cooked a spicy ramen for the young fighter. (Special episode) This color contrasts so much to the pigments from the artist’s flat: black and white. (Special episode) Grey is a combination of black and white. One might think that tangerine appeared for the first time in episode 35 (chapter 35), but it is just a deception. In fact, there were traces of this pigment, when Choi Heesung was introduced for the first time. (chapter 29) Yes, we should perceive beige as a washed-out orange. So what does it mean? First, the cursed Romeo was not true to himself. Let’s not forget that in my eyes, Choi Heesung is a fox, and the fur of this animal is orange which is similar to the chow chow’s pigment. This means that both second leads would have a color in common: orange. Moreover, from my perspective, the comedian is a nine-tailed fox, a gumiho. In case, you didn’t read the analysis “Calculated Craziness (locked)“, I am giving a short explanation about this Korean mythical creature again. The nine-tailed fox, has a complex personality due to his dual nature. He is fighting between its animalistic instincts and its human aspirations.

  1. Shape-shifting Ability: The gumiho can transform into a beautiful woman, often to seduce or deceive humans.
  2. Predatory Nature: Traditionally, it is depicted as malevolent, preying on humans, sometimes consuming their hearts or livers to survive or gain power.
  3. Longevity: The gumiho is often considered immortal or possesses an extremely long lifespan.
  4. Desire for Humanity: Some stories depict the gumiho as striving to become human, which it can achieve through various means, such as abstaining from consuming human flesh for a certain period or performing good deeds.
  5. Ambiguity: The nature of the gumiho can vary from malevolent to benevolent, depending on the story. In modern adaptations, the gumiho is sometimes portrayed more sympathetically, struggling with its dual nature.

Then I noticed another detail. From a clear white t-shirt (chapter 29), it became a white-off shirt (chapter 30), before becoming beige. (chapter 31) This observation helped me to recognize that the more Heesung appeared, the more colorful his clothes became. So this discovery exposes that (chapter 35), white is not his true color! Whereas Potato represents black outside and white inside, his partner embodies the opposite values: white outside and black inside. In addition, the switch of colors indicates not only his transformation, but also that his world is becoming more colorful and as such less boring. Yes, Mingwa was applying the principle: clothes make the man. To conclude, the colors beige and orange are mirroring his gradual maturity.

Furthermore, Manhwaworms can observe that the switch of beige to orange is strongly connected to honesty. The darker the color is, the more the artist opens up. When the celebrity met the physical therapist in the café (chapter 53), beige had become darker and as such more pronounced, compared to the scene in the van (episode 29). Therefore, it is no coincidence that in front of the “angel”, he decided to divulge his true intentions. He desired to date the main lead. Then he admitted his trick and confessed to the innocent doctor that the champion had developed feelings for him. (chapter 35) To conclude, the darker beige is and as such the closer it is to orange, the more sincere Heesung is.

Interesting is that the actor selected different types of beige: Pale taupe combined with sand (chapter 31), peach (chapter 31) and finally camel (chapter 35) Here, I added a screenshot of 57 different types of beige. https://artincontext.org/beige-color/ It exposes more than the character’s personality, it divulges his fear!! 😮 How did I come to this interpretation? It is important to keep in mind that beige is considered as neutral.

His flat and clothes are indicating that the actor is leading a bland and insipid life. No wonder why the actor is often feeling bored. (chapter 29) From my point of view, he doesn’t desire to stand out, to make a statement. Therefore it is not astonishing why he hides behind sunglasses, a hat and a mask. (chapter 35) He didn’t want to be recognized. One might argue about this perception (not standing out), for he is writing a vlog (chapter 30) and giving lunches to the fighters. Besides, he is a celebrity. But notice that he is not delivering the meals to the members of Team Black himself, just like he is not interacting with fans directly too. (chapter 30) The social medias serve as a way to control his image and keep people at arms’ length, exactly like his frenemy Joo Jaekyung. (special chapter) Therefore he is sleeping while hugging a beige and pastel pink pillow. This exposes his need for warmth and support. On the other hand, he is not realizing that he is his own enemy, for the pillow represents a hindrance. He is not allowing people to get closer to him. It looks like he fears embraces in the end. (chapter 33) Thus he would voice such a reproach: too clingy!

Moreover, I also noticed his preference for pastel colors: (chapter 31) (chapter 32, the lavender suits) This observation reinforces my previous statement. Heesung is looking for neutrality.

He is avoiding conflict. At the same time, I believe that Heesung is simply trying to imitate people. He is simply seeking conformity which stands in opposition to his own mind-set: (chapter 33) He is amoral and to a certain extent immoral. We could say that he is a free spirit, but fears rejection. Hence he faked an injury and lied to people. The pastel colors are not reflecting his true mind and choices. We have the perfect example in this scene: (chapter 31) While he was wearing a peach jacket, his manager had put a vivid green with dark black pants. Shortly after, the comedian was seen with this beige/khaki shirt and grey shorts. (chapter 31) Interesting is that his hair shade reflects my previous remarks perfectly. He chose pink which indicates his desire to break social norms, on the other hand, his pink is so faded that it almost looks like beige. He wishes to be “neutral” and somehow “conformist”. Yes, his pink hair mirrors his inner conflict: trying to break free from social norms, yet not standing out too much. The antonym for neutrality is “commitment”, an indication why he was not capable of being committed in a relationship in the end.

To conclude, with such colors (beige and pastel colors), he is trying to validate the image of a friendly, sensitive and gentle celebrity. Hence I was not surprised why he came to deceive himself. I come to the following conclusion. The moment the actor started wearing the orange bathrobe, he chose not only to be true to himself, but also to give up gradually on neutrality. This signifies that he is one step closer of getting committed and as such responsible. Moreover, it means too that in the next future, he won’t be avoiding conflict and drama. This represents a huge step in his emancipation from his “family” and as such “agency”. He will have to stand up for his own values and love life: homosexuality, his younger partner Potato and even BDSM. But I will elaborate the last point further below.

1. 2. Pink, orange and soulmate

Now, let’s return our attention to the scene at the café with the beige shades. (chapter 35) Striking is that the pattern on the wallpaper were roses. The latter has for synonym “pink”. As you can see, the color orange (beige = faded orange) is strongly connected to “pink”. And this leads me to my next observation. When the celebrity interacted with Kim Dan, Mingwa had already combined pink with the artist (chapter 30). However, if you compare the pink from (chapter 30) episode 30 and 31 (chapter 31) (chapter 31) to the ones from the special episode (special chapter), you will notice a huge change in the shade. While in the past, the Webtoonist selected pastel pink or coral, in the special episode, we have now fuchsia as pigment. This is no coincidence that the color is now more pronounced, exactly like with beige/orange.

It shows that Heesung’s emotions are stronger compared to the past. This pink night corresponds to his union with his soulmate. In addition, the shade insinuates that Heesung could act more freely with Potato. Let’s not forget that the former had stated that he would become responsible for the sexual initiation (“leave everything to me”). (special episode) Consequently, it is not astonishing that he wore an orange bathrobe the next morning. It liberated him from his hidden fears. On the other hand, the transition of the pink indicates that the more Heesung interacted with the main leads and Potato, the more his feelings came to the surface. As time passed on, his true personality came to light. Under this new light, it becomes understandable why honesty played a bigger role, the more the comedian interacted with the main characters from Jinx. Consequently, in the special episode he is more honest to himself than before. Therefore by wearing the orange bathrobe, he is indicating that he is finally accepting his true nature. Simultaneously, Jinx-philes can grasp why in the dining room, he is finally admitting that so far, he had been playing with his sex partners. (special episode) While in the past, he told his sex partners, he was looking for his soulmate (chapter 33), in reality he just viewed them as his fuck buddies or sex toys. For me, he was not just deceiving his companions, but also himself. This explicates why after getting rejected by the physical therapist, he didn’t give up on his dream and ambition: to find his soulmate. (chapter 35) This shows how important it was for him to have a lover. He fears of being abandoned and being alone. Therefore he asked this from his new lover: (special episode) Notice that he is smiling with open eyes, a sign that his joy is genuine. He is imagining that he is in control of this relationship. Under this perspective, it becomes comprehensible, that (chapter 35) he started thinking about a soulmate, as soon as he got rejected by Kim Dan. He needed to keep this goal in order not to feel despaired and scared. Simultaneously, his reaction shows that his feelings towards the doctor were not that deep. Additionally, his statement (“whatever they’ll figure it out”) stands for “neutrality”. As you can see, he is refusing to assist the main couple.

That’s how I detected another connection: noninterference and soulmate. The artist rejected to help the doctor and the champion. We could perceive such an attitude at the restaurant. (chapter 32) Not only he didn’t want to be confronted with the champion’s anger, but also he didn’t care if the doctor had to suffer because of him! To conclude, Heesung prefers watching from the side line with the excuse: he is seeking his soulmate. (chapter 32) It is not his “problem”. Hence he was totally absent, when the scandal with Joo Jaekyung broke out. His AWOL corresponds to his passivity and even indifference. However, there is no doubt that this incident will affect his relationship with Potato greatly. (chapter 52) The latter looks not only sad, but also frustrated. Let’s not forget that Potato fought against MMA artists from a different gym. (chapter 52) Besides, Yoon-Gu embodies the opposite notions: loyalty and meddling. He doesn’t fear argument and criticism! (chapter 52) Heesung’s indifference and selfishness contrast so much to his new lover’s interest and selflessness. This shows that the young maknae is superior to the actor despite his lack of experience and ignorance. How do we explicate this divergence? It is because Potato had been showered with support and love at the gym. Kim Dan was even willing to risk his safety for him, a sign that he was lovable and worthy. Hence he is a confident man which is not the actor’s case. That’s the reason why the young man stated that he would become responsible for Heesung. (special episode) Thus I sense that Potato will force the actor to drop all his past believes: passivity, indifference, irresponsibility and as such betrayal. We could witness this in the special episode partially. (special episode) When he discovered how young his lover was, he got shocked for one reason. He could get into trouble, for his relationship could be vilified like this: an adult seduced a minor, a virgin! This late realization forces him to become responsible for their relationship. He has to ensure secrecy, he can no longer ask his manager to assist him. (chapter 31) That’s how he is encouraged to separate private life from his work and public life. Thus he is pushed to distinguish between “idolization” and “love”.

Moreover, through the previous remarks, I came to develop the following prediction: Heesung’s karma will be to be neglected by Potato. Since the actor didn’t care for the doctor and fighter, though he knows that Kim Dan has feelings for the celebrity, and the former left, I believe that Potato won’t have the time and motivation to become responsible for Heesung’s needs. Moreover, Heesung will quickly realize that Potato is not contacting him on his own!! Heesung is in reality the needy one!! Expect a new version of episode 5: (chapter 5) This is just another trick from goddess Mingwa to push him to become more responsible for his new relationship. My idea is that in order to discover that Potato is his soulmate, Heesung needs to help Potato and as such the main couple to be together. Only when the doctor and the champion are an item, he will have his partner.

However, after spending one night with the young fighter, (special episode) Manhwaphiles can notice a change in the actor’s mentality. He is more focused on the moment (special episode), which contrasts so much to the idea of soulmate. The latter embodies eternity and destiny. The celebrity is describing his relationship with Potato as momentary and deliberate. It is his own choice and not the work of “gods” playing with humans. In other words, he is dropping his old principle: “soulmate”. He’s enjoying the present, he is not really thinking about the future. In fact, he is expecting that at some point, Yoon-Gu will get tired of him and leave his side. He is lowering his “expectations”. He has the impression that he has the upper hand in this relationship. (special episode)

While many Jinx-philes saw the celebrity as the better lover compared to Joo Jaekyung, I had a different impression. They are equals. We should compare the intercourse in the special episode (special episode) with the one from episode 39 (chapter 39), as the shades are very similar. Heesung was as rough and selfish as the fighter. Notice that this whole sex session was focused on the actor’s needs and desires, (special episode) exactly like with the champion. He needed “comfort”, as he was in a depressed mood. (special episode) It was not about giving love and warmth to Yoon-Gu either. Thus the gumiho thrusted quite roughly, he removed the fighter’s hand suddenly, he didn’t caress his butt, but grabbed it. (special episode) The champion has a similar habit: (chapter 36) Besides, note that Yoon-Gu’s buttocks are red, a sign that the comedian focused on them!! The irony is that Potato felt pleasure right away, hence he had more climaxes than Heesung. (special episode) Yoon-Gu embodies honesty exactly his role model: Joo Jaekyung. That’s how the gumiho gets affected in the end. Though the latter is here smiling in the last picture, his words are divulging his discontentment. For me, the actor’s smile is not the symbol of happiness and sincerity, rather dissatisfaction and duplicity. Contrary to the physical therapist, the other uke is more genuine about his physical reactions and body. Hence he showed curiosity and not fear to this new experience. (special episode) This panel is interesting, because it shows that Potato was not focusing on Heesung at all. It was all about himself and his own pleasure. He was not recognizing that he was actually mirroring the actor’s thoughts and desires. Yes, from my perspective, the young man was in truth treating the actor as his sex toy or fuck buddy. There was no string attached, this explains why Heesung had to ask this to Yoon-Gu: (special chapter) He desired to be recognized by Yoon-Gu. Besides, he is not selfless enough to become the comedian’s fun toy. There’s a reason for that. MMA fighting means a lot to him. Moreover, he will only assist people who showed him kindness and care: Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung.

That’s how it dawned on me what was Heesung’s major flaw. He is behaving similarly to the main lead, Joo Jaekyung. While the latter treated sex as a surrogate fighting in the past, the gumiho is thinking that life is a stage, therefore he is acting all the time. His pastel colored clothes are his disguises. He is totally immersed in the role: Choi Heesung the celebrity. Therefore I believe that in his mind, love is like in a romantic movie (chapter 29: black and white movie!!) and fairy tale: the end shows their blissed union and they lived happily ever after. This explicates why the comedian compared Kim Dan to an angel… (chapter 30) The latter stands for eternity and immortal love. But this is just an illusion, for humans are mortals. They are destined to die. And this leads me to my following remark. Why was black so present in the special episode? It is because this pigment often represents DEATH!

To conclude, his increasing honesty allowed him to divulge more his true emotions and thoughts. However, while Manhwaworms can discover the actor’s duplicity in the special episode, Potato is left in the dark concerning Heesung’s true intentions. The alcohol helped Heesung to show his amorality and selfishness, yet the maknae was too overwhelmed by his own sensuality and tipsiness to notice the comedian’s hypocrisy and selfishness. (special episode) His ignorance helped him not to get wounded. In my eyes, Yoon-Gu’s suffering is strongly connected with Team Black’s fate. That’s why he is spared by not knowing the gumiho’s true thoughts. Finally, there’s no doubt that these selfish thoughts will change very quickly.

1. 3. The mystery behind black

Since Choi Heesung mentioned the champion’s jinx, this shows that he is aware of its existence. (chapter 32) So what does it indicate? Initially, I thought that he could know about the involvement of others behind the jinx. Let’s not forget that he is working for the same agency, and based on the English translation, the Entertainment company seems to belong to his family. (chapter 33). He can also hear rumors there. Moreover, for me, the actor stands for power, control and as such knowledge… hence he was able to pull tricks on the star on multiple occasions. He is able to make the athlete angry, he can arrange a meeting without Joo Jaekyung’s consent.(chapter 34) or make a deal at his expense (chapter 32.). Interesting is that these values (influence, dominion, competence and insight) are associated with the shade black!

That’s why I thought that he could know the truth behind the jinx. Nevertheless, since I portrayed him as passive and noncommittal, I deduce that Choi Heesung could have heard about the jinx and never investigated the matter. It was not his problem anyway. In other words, I feel like Heesung might know a part of the truth, but not everything. Since his career is not directly linked to MMA, I doubt that the actor felt the need to question the origins of the jinx and the role of the agency. Thus the color “black” could symbolize ignorance and negligence as well, which is reflected in the idiom “left in the dark”. Besides, he doesn’t need to know the whole truth, some information is already enough to “get a glimpse of the verity”. Because of this interpretation, I was even wondering if this trick (chapter 35) was not a punishment against Joo Jaekyung for the actor’s injury which happened with the support of MFC. (chapter 31) Officially, he had wounded the actor, therefore his physical therapist had to take care of his treatment. Besides, I believe that MFC desired to corner the champion in order to force him to give up on his new lover. He was no longer hiring a prostitute. As you can see, black is an ambiguous color: it can symbolize knowledge as well ignorance. Thus this shade represents mystery. Thus it is no coincidence that the past and family of Joo Jaekyung, who is also associated with black, remain a riddle

So far, obsidian was only implied with Heesung’s personality, as darkness can symbolize evilness or guilt. (chapter 31) While Joo Jaekyung condemned him for his deception and constant switching of partners (chapter 33), his manager accepts him despite his messy love life and flaws. (chapter 31) Funny is that he just considers this as a curse. Interesting is that Potato sensed his dark side too, but he has no idea about his past love life. While people mistakes Choi Heesung for a Samaritan, in reality, he is cunning, selfish and even ruthless, for he is a gumiho.

And now, you are wondering where black was present in the special episode. He was exposing his dark side to the readers. In truth, he is also a “selfish jerk”, a name that many Jinx-philes would use for the main lead. (special chapter) Potato is a sex toy, just like the doctor was a tool against the champion’s jinx. Secondly, the artist discovered a whole new world thanks to Potato’s purity and ignorance (special episode). Yes, the black color related to the universe is visualizing the actor’s own “ignorance”. He can not predict the maknae’s next moves and thoughts. It was, as if a big bang had just happened. 😂 Potato’s pure innocence could only disarm and even defeat the slick comedian. Hence the latter was left totally speechless. Finally, since Potato embodies the shade “black”, we have to envision that his role during the night was to absorb the actor’s negative energy.

Choi Heesung was definitely depressed after experiencing the main lead’s rejection. His drinking (chapter 35) reminded me of Kim Dan who used to drink in order to numb his pain. By meeting the black and yellow Chow-Chow, the fox was able to see light in his sorrow. Potato could absorb his negative thoughts and even enlighten his night. Therefore it is not surprising that Heesung made such a statement: (special episode). That’s how it dawned on me why the artist could move on so quickly after dumping his last companion in chapter 33. (chapter 33) First, the VIP club is painted with dark colors. Secondly, the athlete was wearing a dark brown jacket with a black pullover. For me, Choi Heesung’s true personality comes to light in the dark!! We could say that he shines in a black room. Surrounded by darkness, he feels more protected. Thus at the club, he revealed his immorality and hypocrisy… He didn’t stand out. The more white the room is, the less the actor is honest! His preference for neutral colors expresses his need for “conformity and passivity”. They are an evidence for his hypocrisy and acting. Under this perspective, Manhwaworms can grasp why the mysterious man has a hidden dark room! [I am assuming that Mingwa didn’t change the flat] Only there, he exposes his true nature: BDSM. In my eyes, there he can voice all his desires and thoughts. His true self can come to the surface. I saw another evidence for this hypothesis (BDSM) in this expression: “kick him to the curb” (Special episode). This expression exposes the second lead’s hidden ruthlessness, selfishness and disregard. Naturally, since BDSM focuses on power dynamics, role-playing, and the exchange of control, often incorporating physical restraints, sensory stimulation, and psychological techniques, it signifies that consent, communication, and safety are paramount in BDSM relationships and activities. Hence if this expectation is correct, I deduce that such a sex session can only happen, when both are on the same wave length.

Finally, the reference to Black was palpable in this comment: (special episode): DEATH! This notion contrasts to the actor’s belief: soulmate! What is Potato’s goal in life? So far, it was to follow Joo Jaekyung’s foot steps! He wants to be a MMA fighter. He is destined to fight and as such to be exposed to danger. In the ring, he can die. He already fought for the physical therapist’s sake. (chapter 52) This means, he is already one step closer to the MMA arena. With the last incident, the young fighter must have caught the attention of opponents. He created himself “enemies”. Therefore he could become the next target for a plot as a revenge. In other words, with such a companion, Heesung is confronted with reality. His destined partner can be wounded and even die. Thus he has to ensure his safety. He can no longer be indifferent and passive. As you can see, Heesung will be put in a similar position than the physical therapist: (chapter 40) And this observation leads me to my second part, the explanation for the title: La Vie En Rose.

2. Heesung and La Vie En Rose

While reading the special episode from Jinx, I couldn’t help myself connecting the actor Choi Heesung to the expression “La Vie En Rose”. (special episode) (special episode) I am not sure if anyone is familiar with this French expression. The latter means “life in pink” or “life through rose-colored glasses.” It is a philosophy that emphasizes finding beauty, joy, and positivity in every aspect of life. This philosophy encourages a mindset that focuses on gratitude, mindfulness, and the appreciation of both the small and significant moments. As you can see, it is strongly connected to the heart and as such to love.

But where does this idiom come from? The expression “La Vie En Rose” originates from the famous French song of the same name by Edith Piaf in 1947. Piaf co-wrote the lyrics with Louis Guglielmi, who composed the music.

Interesting is that this song is associated with the rose and the colors black and white. First, the flower and shade in French have the same name. Moreover, back then colored pictures and videos were inexistent. After reading my first part, Jinx-philes can recall that the second lead, Heesung, is strongly connected to pink, black and white too.

But why did Edith Piaf write such a song? “La Vie en Rose” was released at a time, when France was recovering from the devastation of World War Two. The song quickly became a symbol of hope and resilience.

La Vie En Rose Edith Piaf – Original versionTranslation
Des yeux qui font baisser les miens
Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche
Voilà le portrait sans retouche
De l’homme auquel j’appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Qu’il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
Il est entré dans mon cœur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C’est lui pour moi
Moi, pour lui, dans la vie
Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l’aperçois
Alors, je sens en moi
Mon cœur qui bat

Des nuits d’amour à ne plus en finir
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place
Des ennuis, des chagrins, s’effacent
Heureux, heureux à en mourir

Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
Il est entré dans mon cœur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause

C’est toi pour moi
Moi, pour toi, dans la vie
Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je t’aperçois
Alors, je sens dans moi
Mon cœur qui bat
Eyes that make mine lower
A laugh that is lost on his lips
This is the unretouched portrait
Of the man to whom I belong

When he takes me in his arms
He speaks softly to me
I see life in pink
He tells me words of love
Everyday words
And it does something to me
He’s entered my heart
A piece of happiness
The cause of which I know
It’s him for me
Me for him, in life
He told me, he swore it for life

And as soon as I see him
Then I feel inside me
My heart beating

Nights of endless love
Great happiness takes its place
Troubles and sorrows fade away
Happy, happy to death

When he takes me in his arms
He speaks softly to me
I see life in pink
He tells me words of love
Everyday words
And it does something to me
He’s entered my heart
A piece of happiness
The cause of which I know

It’s you for me
Me for you in life
He told me, he swore it for life

And as soon as I see you
Then I feel inside me
My heart beating

The lyrics describe a state of bliss brought on by being in love, where everything seems beautiful and radiant. If you read the analysis “The Art Of Loving”, you will realize that the author is advocating the same ideas than the German-American philosopher and psychologist Erich Fromm’: love leads to happiness. At the same time, the verse “my heart beating” is referring to the notion of “life”. The fictive narrator feels alive and full of energy thanks to his affection. This interpretation brings me to my next observation. Choi Heesung has a similar mind-set. Without love, he feels that he is not existing. That’s why he keeps looking for his soulmate. (chapter 33) I can comprehend how he came to develop this mentality. It is related to his work. He is an actor. If he was not famous, he couldn’t work. He is relying on fans and their admiration. However, this kind of affection is superficial, for the stans only know the face and the man as actor. To conclude, his definition of love is linked to his job and as such veneration. That’s the reason why his “soulmate” has to be perfect (“perfect in every way”). His words imply that his companion has to be a celebrity himself as well. Why? It is because humanity embodies imperfection, but not a star. And the moment a celebrity’s flaws are exposed, the latter loses his special status as “star” and “god”. He is now just a human. (chapter 36) That’s what the athlete experienced at the end of season 1. I could describe the fans’ devotion and appreciation as idolization and veneration which can have terrible consequences.

  1. Loss of Objectivity: Idolization can lead to a lack of critical thinking about the idolized person or thing, making it difficult to see their faults or mistakes.
  2. Unrealistic Expectations: Placing someone on a pedestal can create unrealistic expectations that the idolized figure may ultimately fail to meet, leading to disappointment.
  3. Dependency: Excessive idolization can result in emotional dependency, where an individual’s sense of self-worth or happiness is tied to the actions or opinions of the idolized figure.

In this panel (chapter 33), we could see a reference to dependency. The comedian dumped his last boyfriend, for the latter had become too clingy. His words (“perfect in every way”) also display that Heesung’s love life was affected by unrealistic expectations. After he got rejected by Kim Dan, the comedian opened up to Potato and confessed this: (chapter 35) Either he would break up, as he felt no excitement for his boyfriend, or when he would finally reveal his true side, the latter would leave him. Why? Both were disappointed, neither of them would fit the portrait they had from each other. The smiling and generous actor is in fact selfish, childish and probably apathetic. I am even suspecting that he has been suffering from depression too. Not only the choice of his colors indicates blandness, boringness and lifelessness, but also his body language. He is often seen resting his head on his hand. (special episode) (chapter 33) or sighing, the symbols for boredom. Thus I have the feeling that his job as actor is not procuring him any joy. That’s how I realized why Heesung is the champion’s frenemy. While the latter stands for training and routine (he hates surprises and novelties), the other embodies the exact opposite notions: he loves adventure, spontaneity and variations. (chapter 33) This explicates why he became an actor, why he moved from the building, but at the same time why his job is not truly fulfilling too. There is still a routine and there is no real thrill. This remark brings me to my next observation: Heesung must believe that affection is an emotion and sensation. He is reducing it to “thrill, excitement and butterflies in the stomach”. Thus it is normal that he felt bored with his sex partners quickly. In addition, since Heesung selected neutral colors for his clothing and apartment, I deduce that until he met Kim Dan and Potato, he was avoiding emotions. Yes, in the end, he was similar to his frenemy. He was refusing to open his heart to others out of fear. Yes, he was afraid of getting wounded and broken. And now, you comprehend why his path had to cross the physical therapist’s first! The latter stands for selflessness and gratitude. He is the perfect “worshiper” (Halmoni and Joo Jaekyung). Heesung couldn’t be mad at Kim Dan for his rejection. He understood why the man could not reciprocate his feelings. Yes, the doctor taught him to respect his counterpart. Hence there was no resent from Choi Heesung contrary to the other Choi: (chapter 48) As you can see, the main lead announced a turning point in the gumiho’s life. Exactly like his frenemy, he was taught that money and fame can not buy affection. Moreover, for the first time, the young man learned the existence of boundary and respect.

In my opinion, Heesung only feels alive, when he is provoking reactions and emotions in his counterpart. He needs them, as he has been controlling his own heart this entire time. That’s why he likes being with the champion (chapter 30) or having sex with someone! He is reducing love to lust and physical responses. Under this new light, it becomes clear why his bedroom was colored with pink colors: (special episode) (special episode) He felt his heart beating, and sensed so many emotions. Without LOVE, his world becomes colorless and insipid again: black or white. Here, he was following the flow.

Because Heesung hates boredom and as such routine, this signifies that he enjoys novelties, trips and adventures. And now, the actor is destined to fall in love with the sweet “Potato”! It is because each time, the chow chow is able to “surprise and even scare” the keen second lead. Observe his reactions each time Yoon-Gu voices his thoughts: (chapter 35) (special episode) (special chapter) (special chapter) He is constantly caught by surprise! (special episode) That’s why he is often left speechless and paralyzed. He can not use his skills like with other people. Hence his interactions with Potato remain memorable. And now look at this memory: (special chapter) He sees Yoon-Gu as fun! Simply because he is allowing himself to express his emotions. He is never hiding his thoughts and emotions, the exact opposite of Heesung. He is so transparent, on the other hand, totally unpredictable. Yes, in the end, Yoon-Gu represents a huge riddle for Heesung. What caught my attention is how Yoon-Gu didn’t mind to yell his affection and admiration in front of people. He doesn’t mind people’s judgement and gaze. He is strong enough to bear this kind of attention… the exact opposite of the actor. He is not afraid of committing, making a different statement, he can diverge from majority. Hence he left the restaurant in front of others. (chapter 52) He can make his own judgement and choice. To conclude, though Yoon-Gu is the younger one, he has so much to teach his fated partner who chose conformity and ended up bored and half-dead!

And this brings me to my next remark. How did these two meet? By coincidence!! They bumped into each other. (chapter 31) We could say, their meeting was like a big bang, an explosion! Caught by surprise and annoyed by such an incident, the actor couldn’t help himself voicing his thoughts about Potato: (chapter 31) For a short moment, he dropped his mask and expose his true personality. And for the first time, he received such a gaze: 8chapter 31) Yoon-Gu glared at him, which left a deep impression on the actor. (special episode) That’s how both ended up creating unforgettable moments. Under this perspective, my attentive and patient readers can grasp why I created such an illustration for this essay: The pink in the middle symbolizes the collisions of two stars, spontaneity, shock, surprise, the birth of love and life… So the moment the actor will recall their first meeting, he can only remember it as “fate”. If Potato hadn’t crossed his path, he would have never met his soulmate… I come to the deduction that the actor was not able to find his soulmate, for he always picked up guys similar to him. They would prefer normality, social norms and “conformity”. With Potato, he is taking a risk. (special episode)

But let’s return our attention to the song “La Vie En Rose”. Notice that the lyrics are also referring to death: “happy to death”. What does it mean? Edith Piaf’s “La Vie en Rose” captures the essence of seeing life through love and beauty, a perspective that can also apply to how we view death. Embracing this philosophy can help us approach death with peace, acceptance, and appreciation. Recognizing the finite nature of life enhances our appreciation of each moment and encourages mindful living. Accepting death as a natural part of life reduces fear and transforms it into a peaceful transition. This perspective also inspires us to create meaningful legacies and honor the memories of those who have passed. Practical steps include setting meaningful goals, savoring everyday moments, having open conversations about death, and engaging in end-of-life planning. Celebrating the lives of deceased loved ones and performing acts of kindness in their memory keeps their spirit alive. Integrating the “Vie en Rose” philosophy with our understanding of death brings a profound sense of peace and appreciation to both life and mortality, allowing us to live with love, gratitude, and positivity. And now, you comprehend why this chapter appeared after the separation of the main couple. Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan are on their way to practice this philosophy La Vie En Rose” (chapter 53), for the grandmother’s death is imminent.

The egocentrism from the crazy fox was truly palpable in the special episode. (special episode 1) Here, he made sure that Yoon-Gu wouldn’t reject him and leave him. (special episode) In the second picture, he believes to have the upper hand. He imagines that he will keep the maknae by his side, as long as he feels like it. However, keep in mind that Heesung hates routine and normality. But if Yoon-Gu becomes a star and MMA fighter, his life will never be “normal”, as he is risking his health and life. Besides, the young maknae admires other people, Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, so he has other interests. Heesung needs to learn that not everything is revolving around him. In order to catch Yoon-Gu’s interests, he will have to change his mind-set and way of life. He will be forced to “catch his attention”, do things out of ordinary and as such to make a committment.

But there’s one detail that caught my attention: (special episode) He described Potato as easy”, a sign that Heesung is linking love to conquest. And now, you comprehend why Heesung had no problem to woo someone in a relationship. (chapter 33) He saw it as a challenge… he enjoyed the thrill to earn the prey’s heart. But once they were together, the second lead got bored, as there was no longer this tension and fever. In other words, he confused excitement and lust with love. However, according to Erich Fromm, love is care, knowledge, respect and responsibility. That’s the reason why Heesung had to drop this belief of “soulmate” first! This principle helped him to avoid responsibility in the end. Secondly, with Potato, Heesung has lowered his expectations. (special episode) Moreover, he is not lying to Potato with fake promises and illusions: fated love etc. (special chapter)

The character from Jinx reminded me a lot of Edith Piaf, for the latter is famous of having many lovers. Moreover, she had a terrible childhood which explains why she tried through her lovers to overcome her traumatic childhood. Moreover, it makes one wonder if the artist hadn’t false perception of love too, similar to Heesung. There is no doubt that the latter fears commitment and as such responsibility. But there’s more to it. Edith Piaf fell in love with Marcel Cerdan, a French-Algerian boxer. Marcel Cerdan tragically died in a plane crash on October 28, 1949, while flying from Paris to New York City. His death deeply affected Edith Piaf, and she mourned him for the rest of her life. And now, you comprehend why I couldn’t help myself connecting Heesung with the French singer. This is what Edith Piaf sang 3 years before her death:

Je ne regrette rien from Edith Piaf – Original versionTranslation

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu’on m’a fait
Ni le mal
Tout ça m’est bien égal
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
C’est payé, balayé, oublié
Je me fous du passé
Avec mes souvenirs
J’ai allumé le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs
Je n’ai plus besoin d’eux
Balayé les amours
Avec leurs trémolos
Balayé pour toujours
Je repars à zéro
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu’on m’a fait
Ni le mal
Tout ça m’est bien égal
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Car ma vie
Car mes joies
Aujourd’hui
Ça commence avec toi
No, nothing
No, I do not regret anything
Nor the good that was done to me
Nor the evil, all that doesn’t matter to me!
No, nothing
No, I do not regret anything
It is paid, swept away, forgotten
I don’t care about the past!
With my memories
I started the fire
my sorrows, my pleasures
I do not need them anymore!
Swept away the loves
With their tremolos
Swept away forever
I go back to zero
No, nothing
No, I do not regret anything
Nor the good that was done to me
Nor the evil, all that doesn’t matter to me!
No, nothing
No, I do not regret anything
Because my life, because my joys
Today, it begins with you!
Share as link

And that’s exactly what Choi Heesung will think about this night and their relationship! Life begins with Yoon-Gu!

PS: There will be a new essay about the special chapter.

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

Jinx: Kiss me 💋 (Podcast)

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Though the woman appears smaller and more submissive, it is important to notice that she is on her knees. So if she stood on her own feet, she would appear taller than the man. It indicates that the woman is stronger than she appears. Both persons are enjoying the moment, forgetting their surrounding. They are surrounded by nature, creating an association between love and nature. The couple is forgetting society and social norms. It is important to know that Klimt’s paintings were criticized back then, they were considered as Pornography. Though Jinx contains explicit content, the story is more than just sex. It is about maturity and giving a meaning to life and as such to find happiness.

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

Jinx: 3️⃣ 7️⃣The Magic Of Numbers 🧚‍♂️🧝‍♂️8️⃣ – (second version)

1. Numbers, Mathematics and Magic

How can numbers be associated with magic? The latter stands for mystery and supernatural forces, while the other representing Mathematics symbolize rationality and logic. It looks like a contradiction, yet let’s not forget that without Mathematics, we wouldn’t be able to understand our world. How? The function of mathematics is multi-faceted and integral to various aspects of human life. Some key functions of mathematics include:

  1. Problem-solving: Mathematics provides a systematic approach to solving problems across different fields, from science and engineering to economics and social sciences.
  2. Modeling and prediction: Mathematics allows us to create models that represent real-world phenomena, enabling us to make predictions and understand complex systems.
  3. Quantification: Mathematics provides a language for quantifying and measuring quantities, allowing us to describe and compare different phenomena.
  4. Analysis: Mathematics provides tools for analyzing data, patterns, and relationships, helping us gain insights and make informed decisions.
  5. Communication: Mathematics serves as a universal language that facilitates communication and collaboration among people with diverse backgrounds and cultures.

As you can see, they help us to solve problems in our daily life, but more importantly, thanks to them we can make predictions. Indirectly, it shows that numbers are strongly connected with magic, for they are used as a key to understand the unknown, to anticipate bad things. It was, as if they were the key to communicate with the unknown. It was, as if numbers were a language on their own. That’s why they appear so magical. Under this new light, it becomes understandable why certain people came to see numbers as something supernatural. It was, as if the gods and stars were trying to communicate with humans. Let’s not forget that numbers in religions play a huge role. In Christianity, we have one representing unity and the monotheistic nature of God, then 3 with Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) and divine perfection. In addition, seven is associated with completeness, perfection, and divine order (e.g., seven days of creation), whereas 12 represents completeness or wholeness (e.g., twelve apostles, twelve tribes of Israel). Finally, we have forty, which often signifies a period of testing, preparation, or transformation (e.g., forty days of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, which is quite similar in Islam (forty days of fasting in Ramadan: trial and purification). In Hinduism, three represents the Trimurti (Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva) and the cycles of creation, preservation, and destruction, then 4 symbolizes the four stages of life (ashramas) and the four aims of life (purusharthas) and finally 8 stands for prosperity, abundance, and cosmic balance (e.g., eight directions, eight forms of Lakshmi). I could include other religions like Buddhism or Judaism which all have special numbers (1, 3, 7, 10, 18). To conclude, numbers are connected to belief, to celestial and divine world, and they embody certain notions. This observation brings me to my main topic, Numerology, particularly Chaldean numerology.

2. Chaldean Numerology

The latte is a belief system that ascribes meaning to numbers and their influence on human life. Originating from ancient Chaldea, a region in the Middle East, Chaldean numerology assigns specific vibrations and characteristics to each number from 1 to 8, as the number 9 is considered a sacred, spiritual number.

In Chaldean numerology, each letter of the alphabet is assigned a numerical value, and by analyzing names or words, practitioners can derive insights into personality traits, life path, and future events. These numerical values are based on the vibrations associated with the sound of each letter rather than its alphabetical order.

Chaldean numerology is often used to gain insight into various aspects of life, including career choices, relationships, and personal development. By calculating and interpreting numerical patterns, individuals may uncover hidden strengths, weaknesses, and opportunities for growth.

Overall, Chaldean numerology offers a unique perspective on the significance of numbers in shaping human experiences and guiding life’s journey. It remains a popular tool for self-discovery and personal empowerment among those who believe in its principles. As you can see, it helps people recurring to Numerology to solve problems, to make decisions which will affect their life, to anticipate bad events. However, like pointed above, this “science” is based on faith and not “facts”. How so? It is because Numerology believes in supernaturality, and the latter is a synonym for occultism, prophecy, magic and even hocus-pocus. That’s why here I feel the need to remind my readers that the content of this essay is not representing my own belief. Just perceive me as a neutral commentator. The purpose of this essay is to demonstrate that Mingwa used this system to develop her story. How can I prove it? I could answer to this question very quickly, yet it would ruin the fun. Hence I would like first to demonstrate how I came to discover this influence.

3. Return to the past

If I look back at my previous examinations, it started with Potato and chapter 22. (chapter 22) Back then, I came to realize that both ukes were associated with the number 2. Shortly after, while making a first portrait of Cheolmin, I noticed that this cute doctor was linked to numbers 1, 3, 4. At the same time, I connected him to the sky, an angel. As you can observe it, my observations led me little by little to planets and numerology. But the major turning point was, when I perceived Kim Dan as a representative of Saturn . From that moment on, I came to associate Jinx-characters with gods and as such planets. Hence in the essay , I made the following connections. Potato was Venus, and his soulmate Choi Heesung is Mercury. Then Joo Jaekyung is Jupiter and the Sun, whereas Kim Dan was Saturn and the Moon. That’s how I discovered that Kim Dan was associated with the number 8. Thus in the composition A Summer Night’s Dream, I outlined that this was Kim Dan’s night, for 44 stands for 8. And do you know what 44 mean in Numerology? HEALING! That’s the night Kim Dan got healed. (chapter 44) During that night, he realized that time was flowing. It helped him to reconnect with the present and forget his abandonment issues. How so? This revelation was necessary to make him realize that his promise with his halmoni was impossible. She was a mortal, exactly like him. This lovely night gave him the strength to face reality (chapter 47) and digest the terrible news. (chapter 47) Thanks to the champion, Kim Dan discovered that he could receive warmth and love from someone else. And now, you can grasp why he was strong enough to give the present to Joo Jaekyung despite his fear, why he could confront his boss in the locker room in episode 51. Thanks to this magical night, he learned that he could stand on his own. He is an adult now. But wait… people might question this interpretation, for there was no teamwork in episode 11. (chapter 11) When Park Namwook and Kwak Junbeom saw that he was wounded, the manager could detect the doctor’s lie. But what did they do? Nothing, they acted, as if they had not detected his lie. However, don’t forget the champion’s reaction. (chapter 11) He treated him as an important member of his team, he needed his assistance. Secondly, who helped Kim Dan with his struggles? Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 11) He might have taken advantage of the situation, yet contrary to the others, he did something despite his ignorance. (chapter 11) They were a team… working together, relying on each other. 22 announced a new start, for the champion divulged that he was living with the cute hamster. (chapter 22) Secondly, notice that he showed his true power in the break room. He is the true owner of the gym (chapter 22) It is important, because it indicates that little by little, Joo Jaekyung is taking over the gym. From that chapter on, he was building his world from the ground”.

In episode 33 (chapter 33), we could see Joo Jaekyung’s success reached its peak, as he had just signed a contract with the Entertainment agency. “Reaching the pinnacles of success” was also reflected in another situation. The champion was allowed to touch his lover’s phallus (chapter 33), something he had been denied before (chapter 24). Moreover, he was able to get a confession from Kim Dan. (chapter 33) The latter would react to him, only him could make him cum. Moreover, observe that in the heat of the moment, Kim Dan embraced his lover which surprised both. (chapter 33) The cute doctor was unconsciously accepting to be intimate with his boss. Thus he whispered to the sportsman. (chapter 33) In other words, the athlete had been successful in the car, though there is no doubt that he reacted more to the situation, he feared to lose his lover to the frenemy Choi Heesung.

4. The magical 6

But what was the trigger for this essay? First, while examining chapter 51, especially the argumentation between Kim Dan and his soulmate, I noticed parallels with episode 15. Through this table, it become visible that Mingwa created episode 51 as a positive reflection.

Chapter 15Chapter 51
A request, but notice that he is avoiding the athlete’s gaze. He only starts talking, when the other is turning his back to him. But even so, he is not able to look at his VIP client. Kim Dan is the one avoiding the athlete. Both faced each other. They voiced their own thoughts and emotions. They are no longer avoiding discomfort, a sign that they are getting closer to each other.
Here Manhwa-lovers can detect Joo Jaekyung’s arrogance and detachment. Both were not true to themselves. They were both beating around the bush. No one voiced exactly what they truly desire from each other, for they were not listening to their own heart. However, their discussion ended with a question pushing both characters to meditate.
Why doesn’t he trust me yet? How can I earn it? Why don’t I trust him, though we live together? Why don’t I trust him, when he prepared breakfasts for me? Why don’t I trust him, when he was able to heal my shoulder?

It is no coincidence that the numbers are reflecting each other. But more importantly, if you add the numbers together, you have six. 6 embodies Venus, the goddess of love. And now, you know why in my illustration I selected pictures from episode 6, 33 and 51! They are all connected to the same number. This signifies that we should examine the following chapters 6, 15, 24, 33, 42, and 51 as a continuation or better said as reflections. Hence they stand for love, but don’t forget that Venus also embodies fertility, prosperity and victory. How so?  She was the ancestor of the Roman people through her son, Aeneas, who survived the fall of Troy and fled to Italy. That’s why she came to symbolize Rome’s imperial power. Yes, these chapters are mirroring a battle, who has the upper hand in the couple.

Chapter 6Chapter 15Chapter 24Chapter 33Chapter 42Chapter 51

So the moment I connected these episodes to each other, I noticed the progression in their relationship. First, when the deal was made, the physical therapist could never refuse. He had to please his partner at any time and place and he could make any request. But it changed in the locker room, Kim Dan made a first request. Then in the office, he questioned his boss’ decision before making a request. But contrary to the previous 6, the alpha listened to his plea. Thus Potato was sent away. Then in the car, for the first time, Kim Dan voiced a desire. He even allowed his partner to touch his penis, something he had rejected before. Then in the penthouse, he cooked a breakfast, though he was tired. Interesting is that by earning money as a courier, he never realized that he was actually violating their deal. Joo Jaekyung could no longer ask for sex at any moment and at any place. This shows that though Kim Dan had become the owner of his life. He was liberating himself from his situation as “whore”. He could find a new job, if he wanted to. Joo Jaekyung had no saying in his life. It was teaching Joo Jaekyung a lesson, he shouldn’t have intervened, when Choi Heesung offered him a job. Indirectly, he was forbidding him to work elsewhere as PT. Under this new light, Manhwaphiles can grasp the lie from the green-haired uke. On the other hand, it is not surprising why the champion got mad at Kim Dan in the penthouse. He couldn’t admit that he had come to enjoy his presence in his flat. He could no longer bring up their previous deal. (chapter 45) By taking a side gig, the main lead pushed the athlete to recognize him as a true physical therapist and not as a whore. This new interpretation reinforces my conviction that the sex before the match with Baek Junmin was different, it had lost its true value and meaning: it was no longer a belief, rather a habit. Kim Dan could even determine the end of the sex session. (chapter 53) So when Kim Dan asked him this question (chapter 51), he was forced to recall their initial deal. (chapter 6) This condition represented a violation to his belief, the jinx. Having sex with Kim Dan had nothing to do with his career and fights. Moreover, in order to make an oral deal, you need to trust the counterpart. However, money played a huge role in the creation of their deal, therefore he mistrusted him. Finally, notice that gradually they were moving on from their initial deal. The result is that sex is no longer present in episode 51. I would say, the turning point is episode 42, where there was no sex between them, yet this topic was still present through the former partner. But what does the number 6 mean in Jinx?

In my eyes, they display all a change and as such marks a first time for Kim Dan. While in episode 6, they made a new deal, in episode 15, Joo Jaekyung faced his lover for the first time after kissing him. (chapter 15) But there’s more to it. It was also a first for the champion. He invited Kim Dan to watch the show. Imagine that he had never invited any sex partner before. Then in episode 24, he listened to the doctor’s request without any complain. Then in episode 33, for the first time, Joo Jaekyung focused on giving Kim Dan’s anal pleasure. It was, as if the star wanted to trigger desires in Kim Dan. Then in episode 42, Joo Jaekyung witnessed that Kim Dan was doing the breakfasts out of “routine” and not out of pleasure. Thus he always fell asleep. On the other hand, the physical therapist got confronted with a rival for the first time. Finally, in episode 51, Joo Jaekyung is now acknowledging Kim Dan as his final doctor. He is voicing his expectation: meticulousity. (chapter 51) All their discussion was about work and loyalty. (chapter 51) By bringing the topic money (chapter 51), the champion could finally voice his biggest fear. Deep down, he knew that their relationship was based on money. But with one sentence, the doctor could remove his doubts and insecurities. (chapter 51) His voice and facial expression exposed the doctor’s shock and disappointment. He thought, the champion would trust him. It is important, because this means that from now on, their bond is based on the heart. This painful conversation opened their heart and mind, the exact opposite of this scene, where the prejudices from each other got reinforced. (chapter 6) (chapter 6) Moreover, I would like to point out that contrary to his altercation with his manager (chapter 46) , he listened to Kim Dan till the end. (chapter 51) Here, he didn’t fear the discussion, he voiced his true thoughts and emotions. And observe that this scene is also connected to number 6. Another common denominator is that in both scenes, the champion left the room, yet his motivations were totally different. The comment from the doctor had affected him which we could observe here. (chapter 51) He was more than caught by surprise, in my opinion, it must have dawned on him that he might have been wrong about the doctor. Hence he got upset. Seeing the physical therapist’s face was like a reminder that he had made a mistake, he had not trusted Kim Dan, while the latter had not.

5. The answer is in the numbers

And now, it is time to expose the biggest evidence that Mingwa has been using Chaldean Numerology. The moment I discovered 6, I started wondering which number the characters from Jinx were associated with. So far, I had come to the deduction was Kim Dan’s number was 8 through my examination. But is it true or not? As for Joo Jaekyung, I saw him linked to Jupiter and the sun (3 or 1). Thus I looked for a validation.

On this website, I tipped the name Kim Dan, his birthday 26. 12. 1994 (as he is 29). I am assuming 1994, for the story started more or less in 2023 and it is the same year in Jinx: July. And this is what I found. His radical and name number is 8, whereas his destiny number is 7. His color is Black, his fast day is Saturday and his favorable days are Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Actually, it confirmed that the young man was represented by Saturn and the number 8. As for his destiny number, I believe that his fate is to meet Cheolmin (chapter 13) and Alfredo (chapter 47). Remember that for me, Cheolmin is connected to Neptune, hence we have the number 1, 3 and 4. Thus it would validate my hypothesis that at the restaurant, Joo Jaekyung was talking to the cute doctor. (chapter 43) On the other hand, you are probably wondering how I came to this new theory. It’s simple. It’s because of his name. Alfredo is connected to the number 7. In addition, his name signifies wise counselor.

And now, you understand why I added the elf in the illustration. This signifies that we have another mythical creature in the Manhwa. So far, I detected the presence of the dragon, the angel, the goblin and the gumiho. However, it is important to know that the portrait of elves in the Lord Of The Rings is only reflecting one aspect of their true personality. In fact, in the past, these creatures were not necessarily embodying goodness and light.

Moreover, in German, the word “Albtraum” (nightmare) comes from “aelf”, because in the past, people used to think that they would cause nightmares.

Thus I come to the following deduction. Alfredo represents a dark elf, and Kim Dan is fated to meet him in order to face his biggest fears from the past. For me, it is the vanishing of his parents. Remember that Alfredo is Italian, during the magical night in the States, we could see the city Venice, which is surrounded by water. , (chapter 39) In chapter 53, we discover that it was the halmoni’s dream to see the ocean, like we could observe it in his old house. (chapter 17) However, in the last panel, Joo Jaekyung was leading his loved one, symbolizing that he would bring him to different places. Thus the doctor had to follow him to Busan (city next to the sea) and to the USA. At the end of season 1, it becomes clear that the champion will follow the doctor’s footsteps. He will got to the West Coast. Yet, in reality, the fighter is actually following the grandmother’s trail. Moreover, note that the doctor’s dream was to travel too. However, this desire is strongly connected to his relative. (chapter 47) As you can see, we have dream and ocean combined together. But if the ocean is connected to dream, how did I come to associate Alfredo with the dark elf? My theory is that the sea also represents the source of his suffering and as such his nightmare. I believe that his parents died drowning which would explain this reaction in the swimming pool. (chapter 27) Yet according to my previous interpretation, the PT’s totem is the duck: (chapter 19) A bird that is associated with water. And what is the common denominator between these last three panels? (Chapter 17) (Chapter 27) (Chapter 47) The number 7… All of them are oozing pain and fear, but also they are linked to water: (chapter 7) (chapter 37) (chapter 47) The bridge from San Francisco is a place where people often commit suicide. My idea is that after they vanished, the halmoni never discussed their death with him. Since the grandmother was harassed by the loan shark, I can only assume that they killed themselves due to the debts, and suicide is a huge taboo in South Korea. Notice that his first trip led him to Busan which is a town next to the sea. However, back then, he had not the time to go to the beach. But when he went to the States, it was far from the coast, as UFC/MFC is located in Las Vegas. Hence he came to enjoy his trip. In fact, it inspired him to travel. (chapter 47)

So if my theory is correct, then Mingwa made sure that Kim Dan wouldn’t meet Alfredo too soon. He needed to be ready for that trip. Thus fortunately he got injured. My point is that we should make connections between episodes containing the name number, like for example 2, 12, 22, 32, 42, 52… At the same time, I also think, Alfredo could announce the emancipation for both characters, for pain has a positive effect on people: growth and change. Moreover, it is important to underline that the city “Venice” represents a combination of nature and civilization. Since it is surrounded by water, the latter has the upper hand. In other words, Venice stands for balance.

And now, it is time to give the champion’s number. I tipped Joo Jaekyung, 21. 06. 1997. His radical and name number is 3 confirming my observation. He is Jupiter. As for his destiny number, it is 8 and as such Kim Dan. This implies that Joo Jaekyung was following his destiny, when he chose the cute hamster as his partner. But it is not the same for Kim Dan. This signifies that loving the champion will be the doctor’s own choice. At the same time, it implies that the doctor will have the upper hand in their relationship. But his favorable numbers are 6 and 9… and now, you understand the signification of 6! These chapters helped him to metamorphose. No wonder why his wish got fulfilled in episode 39: (chapter 39) Then his favorable days are Thursday, Tuesday and Friday. And if we combine the days from the two protagonists, there is only Wednesday off.

As for Potato, I tipped 19.08. 2003. His radical number is 1, while his name number is 4. But more importantly his destiny number is 5! Keep in mind that for me, Heesung is Mercury, number 5. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Heesung could woo Potato. (chapter 35) We have a 5, but 3+5= 8, the double of 4. Besides, his favorable numbers are 1, 7, 4. Then we would have the explanation why he became more important in episode 22 (chapter 22), why he protected the doctor from Heesung in episode 31 (chapter 31), why he asked for Kim Dan in episode 40 and why he reappeared in episode 47. (chapter 47) and helped him in the locker room. (chapter 49)

As you can imagine, I could write much more about this topic. Here, I just analyzed the number 6 and a little 7. But before closing this composition, I would like my readers to look again at the list of the master numbers. As you can imagine, when I saw the signification for 55 (“lesson for communication”), my hopes got up, for it indicates that the protagonists will open up to each other. 5+5= 10, which means 1. This number stands for unity, moreover it symbolizes equity. Nevertheless, don’t forget that anguish is necessary in order to make them growth. Hence I am still expecting a painful conversation. They would reveal their wounds to each other. Consequently, it should diverge from episode 5 (violence, silence, avoidance), 45 (restrained strength, yelling but avoidance), 51 (no violence, yelling, confrontation and a question). The force is slowly vanishing replaced by words.

If you liked this type of essay, then it would be great to let me know. I could focus on other numbers, like for example 3 or 8 or 1, and their connections to the protagonists and the villains. That’s why I wrote part 1, but if I receive no feedback, then I will like it to my readers to analyze the numbers and their signification.

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