Jinx: Illuminated 🌥️🌤️Silence and Lingering 🫶 Warmth 🔥

The Tenth Embrace – Stillness, Light, and Transformation

This image , released in anticipation of Chapter 70, is more than a promotional teaser. It is a moment frozen in time, yet brimming with motion—emotional, symbolic, and narrative. We see Joo Jaekyung embracing Kim Dan with both arms, pressing him tightly against his chest. There is no resistance, no distance, no tension in the frame. The palette moves from gray and brown fading into violet and pink, blooming into soft light. There is vapor, there is breath, an allusion to life. And most strikingly, there is stillness.

For my fellow Jinx-philes who have followed every bruise (chapter 11), every glare, and every awkward silence (chapter 67) between these two, this hug feels monumental. Why did the author choose this scene to announce the new chapter?

One might reply that it serves as a summary or visual recollection of the final moment in Chapter 69. And yes, it does that. But there’s more to it. The embrace is, in fact, a confession—one expressed not through speech but through touch. It may seem like a simple hug, yet it conveys something deeper and more vulnerable than any spoken admission. This is body language at its most honest: a quiet gesture that communicates all the things Jaekyung cannot articulate. Though words are absent, emotion is not. Silence, in this case, becomes a medium of connection rather than distance and lack of communication. Joo Jaekyung’s embrace reveals anxiety, tenderness, affection and the desire not to dominate, but to remain – to protect and to hold. And that is precisely why the author chose not to depict a kiss. A kiss would have shifted the tone toward romance, toward desire. But what Dan needs first is not romantic affection—he needs enduring, reliable friendship, a different form of love. Until now, he has only known fair-weather companions like Heesung or Potato. (chapter 58)

This embrace gestures toward something deeper: a bond built not on conditions, but on presence. Hence in this illustration, we also glimpse the athlete’s watch strapped to his wrist—a detail that may seem minor, but resonates with meaning. It subtly grounds the scene in time, discipline, and routine, reminding us of his physical life as a fighter. Back then, the wolf was always preoccupied with the future (chapter 29) —the constant possibility of being challenged, of losing ground, of falling from his throne. Time meant pressure. It meant movement. But now, in this image, the presence of the watch highlights how far he has come. No longer ruled by future threats, he chooses to pause, to stay grounded in the present. But in this moment, time is suspended. The watch becomes not a symbol of training, but of waiting—of calling time, of taking a breath, of choosing to be fully present for someone else. It marks a shift: he is no longer racing the clock, nor following the flow and facing the pack of challengers. He is here, holding, breathing, staying while keeping doc Dan in his sight.

This embrace is not just a recap of Chapter 69. It is a culmination. A reversal. A reflection. And above all, a threshold.

The date itself whispers symbolism. July 12. Add the digits: 1 + 2 + 7 = 10. In numerological terms, 10 signals the end of a cycle and the quiet promise of a new beginning. The “1” stands for rebirth, while the “0” opens the door to uncharted emotional space. We are no longer in the territory of possessiveness or pain. We are stepping into breath, presence, and vulnerability. It is the start of a real friendship and healing.

But how do I see all this in a single image? Naturally through reflections and comparisons. This essay will trace how this embrace reverses earlier dynamics—from the grandmother’s false comfort to the star’s previous grip of control. We will revisit the broken sandbag, the Emperor’s red backlit inner thoughts and visions (chapter 29, 55), and even the slap that echoed too loudly in the hospital. Because when Jaekyung finally hugs Dan with this kind of fragile openness, it doesn’t come from nowhere.

It comes from loss. From growth. From choosing stillness when everything in him was taught to keep running.

Revisiting the Embrace: From Control to Reciprocity

To truly grasp the emotional weight of the teaser hug , it must be examined in contrast with two pivotal earlier moments: the bathroom embrace in Chapter 68 (chapter 68) and the public hug on the dock in Chapter 69. (chapter 69)

In Chapter 68, the setting is intimate and vulnerable—a dim, wet bathroom. Kim Dan is asleep in the champion’s arms. Jaekyung holds him tightly from behind, but his own posture reveals something unresolved. (chapter 68) He rests his chin not on Dan, but on his own hand, his arm propped on the edge of the bathtub. This detail is telling: even in a moment of supposed closeness, Jaekyung relies on himself for support, not on Dan. He is physically near but emotionally braced—still holding himself apart. His thoughts are private, tender, and possessive. In a rare moment of introspection, he confesses that (chapter 68) This line (“I’ll keep him right here in the palm of my hand”) is deeply revealing. The champion frames care through the language of possession. The palm is open but hierarchical; it suggests that Dan is small, fragile, and dependent on Jaekyung’s will to hold or release. He does not yet see Dan as an equal. Even as he softens, his emotional vocabulary is shaped by superiority and containment. The hug is real, the sentiment sincere, but the dynamics remain unbalanced. And since Dan is asleep—unable to reciprocate, respond, or challenge—the embrace becomes more about the wolf’s soothing himself than forming a mutual bond. Furthermore, Dan is not even facing Jaekyung. (chapter 68) His head rests in the crook of the champion’s shoulder, turned away, a spatial choice that subtly reinforces the lingering emotional distance between them. They are close—but not yet connected. Initially, Dan’s profile is visible, resting gently against Jaekyung’s chest. However, as the moment progresses, Jaekyung subtly shifts Dan’s position. (chapter 68) In the next panel, we see Dan’s head from behind. This small but deliberate movement suggests a dynamic effort to hold onto him more firmly—to assert closeness, perhaps, but also to reposition him as something to protect and possess. The scene is filled with motion, both physical and psychological. And this motion, this shifting, stands in direct contrast to the stillness of the teaser image. In fact, the contrast goes deeper when considering the celebrity’s body language: (chapter 68) in the bathroom, we see only one of his hands holding Dan, while the other remains out of frame. Crucially, the watch he normally wears is missing. The absence of this item—one that often symbolizes the passage of time—hints at a suspended moment, an emotional pause where time no longer governs the champion’s thoughts. This subtle omission underscores how, in that quiet resolve to ‘keep him in the palm of my hand,’ Jaekyung momentarily abandons all concern for his career, his schedule, and the ticking clock of an MMA fighter’s short-lived prime. (chapter 68) It is no coincidence that the next morning he receives a new match offer: a test of that very resolution. (chapter 69) Yet, when faced with renewed pressure and stress, he falters—leaving Dan behind. (chapter 69) The illusion of control dissipates, revealing that his earlier vow, however heartfelt, was not yet unshakable.

Under this new light, it becomes clear why Mingwa let Jaekyung make this silent resolution (chapter 68) without a witness. Had the athlete expressed his thoughts directly to Dan, they might have come off as arrogant, performative, or even hypocritical later. The quietness of his resolve shields it from judgment (chapter 68) —it’s neither a promise nor a performance, but a deeply personal moment of self-reflection. As such, it doesn’t demand perfection, only sincerity. And when Jaekyung breaks from it later, readers are invited to empathize rather than condemn. This unspoken vow belongs to him alone, and its failure stings not because of broken trust, but because we witnessed its honesty.

By Chapter 69, we see a notable progression. On a stormy night under a clouded sky, Jaekyung embraces Dan again—this time fully clothed, in public, and face-to-face. (chapter 69) The posture is protective, with Dan still clutching shopping bags. Much like the embrace in the bathroom, this one also unfolds under the moonlight and carries a strong sense of motion. Jaekyung acts on instinct and emotion, reaching out without hesitation. His gestures are protective, but still driven by impulse rather than reflection. This hug is no longer one-sided: Dan leans in, allows himself to be held. It marks a moment of shared emotional exposure. Still, it remains reactive, a response to emotional tension (chapter 69) rather than a moment of mutual resolution. Jaekyung offers no words, yet a silent gesture of care and vulnerability.

Notably, the watch is no longer visible in this embrace. Although we know from earlier panels (chapter 69) that Jaekyung is wearing it, the change in angle—viewing the hug from behind—deliberately conceals it. (chapter 69) This compositional choice signals a subtle shift in perspective. Where the teaser centers the champion’s hands, the public embrace instead centers the environment, the setting, and the societal gaze. Dan’s face and back are hidden. Jaekyung’s back is turned to the viewer, signaling that this moment, while emotionally meaningful, remains partially opaque. Yet his vulnerability is visible—not through facial expression, but through posture. The tightness of his arms, the way he bends to reach Dan, the absence of hesitation—these all speak to a man laying down his guard. He is not posturing; he is clinging. And in doing so, he exposes his attachment and dependence.

By hiding Dan’s expression and placing him at the center of the frame, the author may be pointing to a new phase. Dan becomes the emotional axis, the silent center of Jaekyung’s emotional storm. As if to say: it is now Dan’s turn to interpret, to react, and eventually—to decide. The author thus repositions agency subtly but clearly in the teaser.

The embrace in episode 69 contrasts powerfully with the teaser image, which is defined by stillness. If the embraces in Chapters 68 and 69 are guided by nighttime instincts and lunar passivity, the teaser hints at something new—a quiet morning, or the symbolic arrival of sunlight. The glow on the left side of the illustration resembles the break of dawn, suggesting not only emotional warmth but also a conscious awakening. It is no longer about impulsive action in the dark; it is about holding on to someone in the light. The embrace is no longer a reaction—it is a decision.

The teaser embrace transcends both prior instances, not only in composition but in emotional clarity. The colors purple and pink respectively symbolize enlightenment, maturity and innocent love. Unlike the bathroom scene in Chapter 67, both men are now awake, and crucially, mutually present—not just physically, but emotionally. And unlike the last hug of Chapter 69, this embrace is not reactive; it is not prompted by surprise, fear, external danger, or a crisis. It emerges from stillness, from a shared decision to remain close. Yet within that stillness, it also oozes quiet determination (holding him tight)—a commitment not only to care, but to remain. The embrace becomes an embodiment of the unspoken motto: enjoy the present. It reflects a decision to prioritize presence over performance, commitment and connection over conquest.

Jaekyung’s posture is especially telling. His arms are wrapped tightly around Dan, but more than that, his entire body curves inward, as if folding into the space between them. His head rests against Dan’s neck or shoulder, a gesture that carries vulnerability, not dominance. This is not the body language of a man in control—it is that of someone seeking emotional grounding. He is not bracing Dan against the world; he is clinging to him, quietly, with all defenses down.

Dan’s body, too, speaks volumes. His back is visible, but this time, it is not a symbol of detachment. Compare it to the champion’s thoughts in the past. (chapter 55) In the new illustration, the hamster’s back is no longer representing anonymity and indifference, but visibility and care, for the champion is now facing his fated partner. In other words, doc Dan’s back in the teaser stands for uniqueness and high value. He can not be replaced. Moreover, doc Dan is not walking away, nor is he asleep. His hands are not visible—an intentional choice by the author. (chapter 69) By omitting them, the scene removes any external excuse for passivity, such as the black shopping bags seen in Chapter 69. Instead, it emphasizes Dan’s quiet agency. He is not weighed down or obstructed; he is simply there, choosing to stay. His stance is soft and grounded. He accepts the embrace—not out of resignation or shock, but through silent recognition. This marks a radical departure from earlier chapters where he either endured touch or froze under its weight. This time, he receives it—not as someone overwhelmed, but as an equal participant. That’s why I see the new illustration as the positive reflection of their argument in episode 45: (chapter 45) Back then, the champion refused the expensive key chain, symbolizing a missed opportunity for emotional connection. Both men yearned for attention and affection, but failed to express it. Here, in contrast, the champion offers something far more meaningful than a 14,000₩ and free lodging —his unguarded embrace. And Dan, by remaining still, appreciates the moment. His quiet presence, free of obligation or material offering, affirms that emotional closeness has replaced transactional gestures.

The setting amplifies this transformation. The pink and purple tones that bathe the scene suggest warmth, serenity, and renewal. These colors have replaced the earlier palettes of red (associated with lust and violence – chapter 29) and black (linked to isolation and fear – chapter 55). The two main leads are no longer alone. This is what transpires in the new drawing. The faint mist or vapor in the air suggests breath, life, and emotional release—it is as if they are finally exhaling together after holding so much in.

This embrace, centered in the teaser, is not just a gesture of reunion—it is a visual representation of mutual recognition and emotional rebirth. It marks a turning point where neither man seeks to overpower or please the other. Instead, they allow themselves to be seen and held. The result is not control, but reciprocity—a new balance where love is no longer a struggle for dominance but a shared space of refuge. This moment also represents the birth of a true team: both are relying on each other. Dan becomes Jaekyung’s anchor, the grounding force he never knew he needed, while Jaekyung stands as Dan’s shelter, his unwavering protection. They no longer orbit each other in isolation—they have become interdependent, attuned, and quietly united.

The Hamster’s Gift: Reading The Unspoken

Dan’s stillness in the teaser illustration should not be mistaken for passivity. It is a deliberate act of emotional reception—something he was trained for from childhood. Raised by a grandmother who rarely expressed affection through words, (chapter 21) Dan became fluent in a silent, physical language of care. She often asked him not to cry (chapter 57), unable or unwilling to face his vulnerability. To her, composure meant strength, and emotion—especially in the form of tears—was something to be managed or tucked away. Her love came in the form of caresses, pats (chapter 47) and composed embraces—gestures repeated with calm precision. These touches were predictable, rhythmic, and soothing, but they also suppressed genuine emotional exchange, the symbol of toxic positivity.

Dan learned early to interpret every small shift in touch: the rhythm of a pat,(chapter 57) the momentary pause of a hand (chapter 19), the direction of a gaze. Here, she was not looking at her grandchild who was talking on the phone. It was, as if she was excluding herself from the conversation. These gestures became his emotional compass—not because they were transparent, but because they were all he had.

Her hand was always in motion—patting, caressing (chapter 5) never still—giving the impression of involvement, of care in action. But this motion avoided vulnerability and responsibility in reality. She never clung, never trembled. Her gestures conveyed comfort but not surrender, presence but not change, and not support either. They were not truly emotionally together. (chapter 57) Dan was never permitted to break down fully—he was urged to quiet his feelings rather than explore them. Thus it is no coincidence that the halmoni has no idea about the incident with the switched spray. Moreover, later the protagonist was often the one to reach for her, (chapter 47) to hold her hand, to initiate closeness (chapter 47) (chapter 56). This reversal of roles placed the burden of emotional stability on his young shoulders.

And layered into this physical restraint were her verbal reassurances—”You still have me,” “Grandma will always be there for you” (chapter 57); I’ll come back home, once I am all better” (chapter 11) —promises that sounded protective but masked emotional denial. Her words were spoken to soothe, not to reassure with truth. These assurances were emotional illusions—comforting on the surface, but hollow in substance. They created the illusion that she was always strong, ever-present, even immortal—an anchor that would never be lost. Over time, this illusion cemented itself in Dan’s mind. She became a fixed point of emotional gravity, (chapter 65) a mythic figure whose emotional distance he interpreted as noble sacrifice. Her constant reassurances and carefully controlled gestures fed into this perception, convincing Dan that love meant loyalty, restraint, and silent endurance.

This formative training becomes key to understanding why he doesn’t resist Jaekyung’s embrace. He does not shrink, flinch, or cling—he simply stays. Unlike in Chapter 69, where he clutched shopping bags that might serve as a pretext for his inertia (chapter 69), in the teaser his immobility is unburdened. The absence of his visible hands and possessions symbolically removes all excuses. Dan is no longer reacting out of confusion or fear. He is choosing to be held.

This emotional acuity is especially visible in Chapter 35, when Dan observes the aftermath of Jaekyung’s violent outburst at the sandbag. (chapter 35) Instead of recoiling in fear or admiring his strength, Dan quietly states, “I think I really need to focus on Mr. Joo right now.” He does not focus on the strength or aggression, but on the pain beneath it. The burst sandbag, for him, is not a threat—it is a symbol of Jaekyung’s emotional unraveling. This silent recognition mirrors Dan’s interpretive skills developed in childhood. Just as he once learned to read a shift in his grandmother’s hand or the silence after a broken promise, he now interprets the damage to the sandbag as an unspoken plea for help. This sensitivity continues to define his bond with Jaekyung.

He recognizes the depth behind Jaekyung’s gesture —the trembling edge of desperation, the quiet need to be reassured. The celebrity’s grip is neither calculated nor repetitive. It is raw, clingy, and intense—each finger clutching as though Jaekyung fears losing him again. Unlike his grandmother’s composed movements, Jaekyung clings with both arms, as if to say: I need you to stay by my side. The absence of ritualized comfort, the lack of rehearsed gestures, tells Dan this is something radically different: not performance, but presence. There are no words exchanged—no hollow reassurances, no immortal promises. This is vulnerability in its purest form: exposed, messy, urgent.

For Dan, who was trained to perceive the emotional weight of silence and motion, the difference is staggering. The wolf’s embrace does not soothe from above—it clings from within. He doesn’t place himself above Dan like a guardian or caretaker. He reveals himself as someone who needs Dan’s presence, someone who trusts Dan with his own fragility.

This moment reshapes Dan’s emotional experience. In the past, stillness came from suppression. Now, it emerges from choice. In the past, he was the one to reach out (chapter 47), to stabilize the person meant to support him. Now, he is receiving without shame or hesitation. The Emperor’s silent desperation, his refusal to hide behind ritual or false strength, creates the space for Dan to feel treasured—not pitied, but wanted.

Dan was conditioned to listen with his eyes, to decipher emotion from gesture. That gift has become the foundation of their bond. This time, silence is not loneliness—it is intimacy. Jaekyung’s embrace asks for nothing and gives everything. It is not a gesture of power or protection—it is a surrender. And the master, for the first time, accepts it as his own. Jaekyung and Dan do not need to pretend. They offer presence, not perfection. And Dan, trained to hear meaning in silence, receives the hug as something more profound than any spoken vow. It is not just a sign of Jaekyung’s attachment—it is an invitation, which Dan, for the first time, accepts freely.

Letting Go of the Guardians: From Slap to Embrace

The teaser leaves no room for misunderstanding: this embrace belongs to no one but them. There is no space for a third party to intervene, mediate, or translate. The intimacy captured in the image signals not only mutual acceptance, but also a decisive boundary—an exclusion of external authority. With this embrace, the narrative quietly removes the former guardians—Shin Okja and Park Namwook—from the emotional core. Their time as intermediaries (chapter 65) or stand-ins (chapter 36) for affection has ended. The spotlight now belongs solely to Jaekyung and Dan, who no longer require mediation to reach one another. This shift becomes particularly evident when contrasting the teaser with earlier moments of evasion, silence, and misplaced dominance—especially through the lens of Park Namwook’s slap and Jaekyung’s own past deflections.

In Chapter 29, Jaekyung is depicted as a hunted predator (chapter 29), constantly pursued by younger fighters—“a pack of hyenas” nipping at his heels. Yet beneath this portrayal of endless motion is a deeper emotional truth: Jaekyung is running not just from competitors, but from his own solitude. That night, he refused to rest (chapter 29), ignoring Dan’s presence and concern. His rejection of the doctor’s offer of comfort or companionship underscores not only his emotional detachment but also the absence of true support from his supposed team. The manager, Park Namwook, is nowhere to be seen, (chapter 29) and Jaekyung operates in isolation—more fighter than partner, more machine than man. No man is watching his “back”. It is precisely this disconnection that prevents him from relaxing or recharging. He is trapped in a cycle of movement without relief, because he lacks the emotional foundation of trust and interdependence that the teaser illustration later comes to embody. In other words, behind this image of motion (chapter 29) lied an emotional stagnation. The champion was running from something internal, not just external. When Dan attempted to ask questions or reached out, Jaekyung frequently shut him down (chapter 42) or offered silence in return. He had no teamwork ability in the end contrary to the hamster who “assisted” his grandmother. But it is not surprising, since Park Namwook has always relied on his boy. (chapter 40) Each time, they faced a problem, the athlete had to resolve it. He was the problem and the solution for everything. (chapter 17)

This emotional avoidance culminates in a pivotal rupture: Park Namwook’s slap in Chapter 52. (chapter 52) Surrounded by others, the manager attempted to discipline Jaekyung not with understanding, but through force. The slap was not an act of care—it is an assertion of dominance. It reduced Jaekyung to a volatile asset and spoiled child, not a man in pain. Striking is that this gesture actually exposed the manager’s weakness and anxiety. He was the one reacting as a spoiled child, for he masked his wrongdoing with tears. (chapter 52) The reason is that he couldn’t face the terrible outcome and his own responsibility. He needed a scapegoat. Thus he blamed the champion for everything. But by doing so, he refused to share the burden and the athlete’s unwell-being. Striking is that this slap served as a wake-up for the athlete. From that moment on, he stopped relying entirely on his “hyung”. He was pushed to make decisions on his own. This harsh gesture mirrors Shin Okja’s attitude toward Kim Dan, (chapter 57) who was often comforted only when he concealed his distress. Both guardians acted as strong persons, while in reality they were hiding their own helplessness and anxiety. Both suppressed vulnerability (chapter 52), seeing it as disruptive or shameful. Their guidance demanded emotional control, not emotional honesty.

Yet while the manager relied on open scolding and explosive gestures, Shin Okja’s strategy was the opposite: she smothered emotional crises with fake promises and quiet patting. Where Park Namwook used confrontation and order, Shin Okja relied on evasion and emotional sedative. Both mechanisms served the same purpose—denying the “boy” the freedom to feel and process complex emotions. Both were forced to deny the existence of “evil” in the end. “They don’t know” or “because of your temper”… Both guardians expected their wards to be functional rather than fragile. The reason is that they were expecting blind loyalty and submission. Naturally, since the grandmother was more gentle, her actions created an invisible chain between her “puppy” and her, while the slap from the manager caused an invisible riff between him and the Emperor. Park Namwook can no longer raise his voice (chapter 66) or use violence to “tame the wolf”. That’s the reason why he is accepting the offer from the CEO of MFC. He is pushing the Emperor to return to the ring, but the problem is now that doc Dan was officially recognized as a member from Black Team. (chapter 69)

Herein lies the most profound contrast with the teaser embrace. The slap (chapter 52) is loud, performative, and corrective—a punishment wrapped in hierarchy. It takes place in a closed space—a hospital, ironically a place meant for healing. And yet, this act of violence is anything but restorative. Though members of Team Black are present, the moment remains confined, unspoken beyond its walls—a private humiliation masked as internal discipline. It does not foster intimacy or catharsis; instead, it isolates Jaekyung, stripping him of dignity both as an athlete and as a patient. In contrast, the embrace in Chapter 69 (chapter 69) occurs on a public street, before any audience. Its openness transforms what could have been a moment of embarrassment into a declaration. Jaekyung’s vulnerability becomes visible and valid—an indirect public confession that replaces the secrecy of the slap with the courage of connection. In fact, this scene displays the irrelevance of PArk Namwook in the “champion’s life”. He was never seen in the little town following his MMA fighter. So in the eyes of the inhabitants of this remote town, the doctor becomes a VIP. The embrace, by contrast, is quiet and egalitarian—a gesture of shared vulnerability and mutual respect. Where the slap severs emotional expression, the embrace enables it. Jaekyung does not mask his emotions or deflect responsibility with aggression; he leans into them, exposing his dependency and yearning without shame. This moment oozes closeness and intimacy, while indirectly their “secret” is exposed. They are important to each other.

This quiet exposure reverses the legacy of his guardians. Jaekyung does not slap, silence, or manage. He holds. And by doing so, he invites Dan to remain—no longer as a passive caretaker, but as someone who matters. The embrace thus becomes an answer to years of silencing: an offering of closeness where there was once only control.

By staging this gesture in full view—yet focused only on the pair—the teaser signals that no outsider can step in to define or distort their relationship anymore. Guardians are no longer needed. The embrace is their language now. Through the touch, both are feeling the warmth from each other. They are now friends and even family. Let’s not forget that the landlord saw them as “friends” (chapter 66) the moment the Emperor carried away doc Dan. This looks like an “embrace”. (chapter 66)

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Jinx/Doctor Frost: Flight 🚪 from Truth 👁️✨🧠, Fight🥊 for Fragile Peace ☮️

In the psychology article “How does confirmation bias push us to make bad decisions in life?”, author Jennifer Delgado analyzes how our minds instinctively defend core beliefs when confronted with contradictory evidence. This defense, she explains, stems from the discomfort of cognitive dissonance—a tension we feel when facts challenge our identity or worldview. To avoid this discomfort, people tend to seek psychological safety over factual accuracy. When destabilizing information arises—especially involving self-concept, loyalty, or trauma—they fall back on defense mechanisms: denial, deflection, aggression, or withdrawal.

This behavior is not purely mental; confronting such dissonant facts activates brain regions linked to physical pain. As a result, the individual unconsciously opts for survival behaviors—either fight (blame, control, projection) or flight (avoidance, submission, denial)—instead of reasoned analysis.

This concept is deeply relevant to the world of Jinx, where characters often mistake emotional avoidance for peace (chapter 47) and denial for strength (chapter 55). Joo Jaekyung, Kim Dan (chapter 61), Park Namwook (chapter 69), and Shin Okja (chapter 53) all operate within survival mechanisms shaped by trauma, guilt, and fear. They choose the illusion of control or calm over genuine healing. But as the story unfolds, these strategies begin to unravel. Each character must confront the truth behind their emotional habits, learning that happiness isn’t the absence of pain—it’s the result of confronting it with clarity and purpose.

Joo Jaekyung: When Strength Masks Submission

In his recurring nightmare (chapter 54), Joo Jaekyung is cornered by a faceless, overpowering ghost. He is unable to fight or flee; only obedience and silence remain. (chapter 54) He could only express his pain and resent through the hand. This moment encapsulates the core of his trauma: as a child, he learned to survive through silence and compliance, not resistance. Yet deep down, the resentment festered—toward himself, and toward the abuser. That psychological pain was redirected into becoming a fighter, as if to prove the abuser wrong. (chapter 26) (chapter 14) But ironically, he became exactly what the abuser desired: a powerful, obedient puppet. His fame, discipline, and aggression were not signs of freedom, but evidences of emotional and mental captivity. That’s why the past from the champion is surrounded by darkness and mystery.

This also explains why Jaekyung never learned how to speak to others or negotiate emotionally. (chapter 36) His language was dominance, not dialogue. He didn’t process his emotions through words—he suppressed them, until they erupted in violence or withdrawal. (chapter 34)

But his dynamic with Kim Dan began to disrupt this cycle. Doc Dan, being physically weaker and more emotional, didn’t respond to force like the others. He didn’t fight back with fists. He showed his vulnerability and as such his tears. (chapter 1) And crucially, he didn’t leave right away either despite his embarrassment and fears. (chapter 1) Thus for the first time, Jaekyung had to develop a new strategy in order to meet him again: one that doesn’t rely on intimidation, but on communication. The problem is that since he saw the physical therapist running away after their first session (chapter 1), he knew that he needed to lure him with something: money (chapter 1). Under this new light, my avid readers can grasp why the athlete played a trick on the phone, though we have to envision that here the celebrity’s thoughts were strongly influenced by his bias and prejudices. He imagined that Doc Dan had made a move on him.

Dan has been teaching him, without lecturing, that flight can be strength. (chapter 5) That retreat doesn’t mean failure—it can be an act of self-preservation. However, the champion experienced that he needed to speak with doc Dan in order to keep him by his side. This lesson became a turning point. Jaekyung started to speak more. (chapter 18) Therefore it is no coincidence that in episode 18, right after the celebrity spoke, Kim Dan’s reply was strongly intertwined with flight: (chapter 18) The denial of kindness from the champion made the doctor uncomfortable, the latter felt the need to leave the penthouse as soon as possible. The lesson for the star was to realize that words are powerful and can affect people. But Joo Jaekyung didn’t grasp it, as he chose to use sex to „submit“ his fated partner. (Chapter 18) Nevertheless, as time passes on, the wolf asks more and more questions. He reacts to emotional discomfort not only with physicality but with hesitation, introspection. He is no longer reacting as the ghost once taught him; he is arguing and as such adapting, growing. Thus we could say, he is less passive.

On the other hand, I noticed that Joo Jaekyung displayed a clear behavioral pattern in season 1: he cornered Dan physically—pinning him onto the bed (chapter 3) or table, in showers (chapter 7), against doors, or walls (chapter 34). On the surface, it may seem like a gesture of dominance or desire, but symbolically, it reflects silencing.

This repetition links back to Jaekyung’s trauma. In his youth, he was trapped between the abuser and a bed or a wall (chapter 54), unable to escape or speak. He was physically and emotionally silenced by someone more powerful. As a result, cornering became his unconscious language of control—a reenactment of power where he was once powerless. It’s not just about physical space; it’s about suppressing the other’s voice so he doesn’t have to face emotional exposure himself. In other words, he never learned how to flee, until he met his new mentor Doc Dan.

That’s why the locker room scene in episode 51 stands out. There, they are no longer pressed into corners. (chapter 51) They stand in the middle of the room—an open space—symbolizing emotional emancipation. When Dan questions the celebrity (chapter 51), the words from doc Dan pierce the champion’s emotional defenses. Thus Joo Jaekyung is destabilized. (chapter 51). The latter tries to reassert control (chapter 51), but this time, when he lashes out, he is the one who leaves. This is cognitive dissonance at work: the fighter cannot reconcile his fear of vulnerability with his emerging need for connection and his perfectionism. So he defaults to a performance of control, even as he runs from it. And while one might mistake this for weakness or regression, it actually displays a progression. First, Jaekyung had finally revealed his thoughts and fears to Dan. (chapter 51) Secondly, he left the place which was a new MO for the fighter. His act of fleeing is no longer an escape from confrontation —it follows a moment of emotional vulnerability. It shows that he had finally dared to speak, even if he wasn’t yet ready to stay and endure the emotional aftermath.

Then in episode 69, Jinx-philes can detect a huge metamorphosis in the star. On the surface, he still appears obedient—he remains largely silent during the tense meeting with Park Namwook and the CEO. (chapter 69) That silence could easily be mistaken for submission, for the same old performance of the compliant athlete. (chapter 69) But that would be a misreading. His silence is no longer a symptom of fear or control. It is a deliberate withholding—a sign that he no longer plays by their emotional rules. He is starting distancing himself from MFC, Park Namwook and the fight-centered identity they crafted for him.

His choice to return to the West Coast might look like a retreat to the schemers. (chapter 69) After all, to those still invested in dominance hierarchies, leaving the capital after a public defeat seems like the behavior of someone who’s been defeated mentally as well. But the truth is the opposite. This “retreat” is actually an act of autonomy. For the first time, Jaekyung is giving himself space—not to run, but to reflect. (chapter 69) He is no longer blindly performing the role of the fighter, nor desperately trying to maintain control over the narrative. (chapter 69) He is beginning to think critically about his past behavior, his future, and the systems that have defined his identity and life.

That’s what makes the embrace at the dock so powerful. It doesn’t take place in a ring, in a hallway, or in a cornered room. It happens in an open space, (chapter 69) with “no audience” (he ignores people), no pressure, no script. And in that openness, he lets go—not just physically, but psychologically. (chapter 69) The hug marks the collapse of his old beliefs: that emotions are weaknesses, that silence is protection, that strength means standing alone. He is no longer trying to dominate Dan or prove anything. He’s not cornering or fleeing. He’s simply staying—with someone, and with himself.

It’s a moment that doesn’t fit the binary of fight or flight. It is something more radical: connection.
It is vulnerability without fear. Stillness without paralysis. Silence without suppression.
In this context, the hug is not just affection—it is emotional rebellion. The sportsman reclaims his body not as a weapon, but as a vessel for intimacy. He reclaims silence not as submission, but as peace. And perhaps for the first time in his life, he doesn’t need to perform. He just is.

That’s why this hug is a fight. Not against Dan. Not against MFC. But against everything that taught him that love and respect must be earned through violence, that silence must come from fear, and that warmth and dependency are weaknesses.

This is the moment he stops surviving and starts living. When Jaekyung embraces Dan without shame, he does not speak—but for the first time, his silence is not imposed. It is chosen. He allows his body to express his emotions differently: longing and affection. He is not voiceless anymore—he simply no longer needs to explain or defend. The hug becomes his first true act of emotional agency. He is not reacting to fear. He is not controlling or escaping. He is staying. That is the fight.

And in this moment, he reclaims what “fight” really means. Not overpowering others. Not performing masculinity. Not obeying trauma. But overcoming his trauma, standing one’s ground for connection, for truth, for love. The hug is his first fight that isn’t about winning—it’s about not running away.

What begins as survival now becomes healing. And how are prejudices dismantled? Through communication. This means that from episode 70 on, the star will talk to doc Dan. Jaekyung, who once avoided words, who let others speak for him, who was branded and silenced by MFC, the entertainment agency and Park Namwook—is now ready to speak for himself. The hug is not the end of that journey (chapter 69), but the door finally opening. He is on his way to reconnect with his true self surrounded by nature and the people who truly respect and love him.

Park Namwook: Delegating Blame to Escape Collapse

Park Namwook relies heavily on both fight (chapter 7) and flight (chapter 52), often using blame as a shield. When crisis strikes, he blames the champion’s temper, relies on Doc Dan (chapter 36), or MFC’s decisions. (chapter 69) He surrounds himself with “assistants” like coach Yosep, Kim Dan or Joo Jaekyung (chapter 25: here the protagonist was replacing Yosep and Park Namwook), hires professionals to manage damage (chapter 47), and hides behind administrative actions. (chapter 66) But he never takes full responsibility. This blame-displacement strategy works—until the champion flees to the West Coast.

Now, Park has no one left to blame but himself. In fact, it was Joo Jaekyung’s very act of fleeing (chapter 66) that cornered the manager. (chapter 66) As long as the champion was nearby, Park Namwook could project blame onto him, framing him as unstable, disobedient, or temperamental. But once „his boy“ vanished from Seoul, the hyung was left exposed. Striking is that he is not seen watching over the training of the remaining members. (chapter 60) (chapter 60), a sign that he is neglecting the other members. The absence of his star fighter removed his most convenient scapegoat, forcing him to face the consequences of his own mismanagement—though he is not yet ready to truly question it and change his mindset, denial, and dependency. This was not just a geographical disappearance—it was a strategic psychological rupture, meant to destabilize Park’s illusion of authority.

And this is where the illusion breaks. He is forced to realize: he is not the real owner of the gym. He needs Joo Jaekyung’s signature for major decisions. He needs the champion’s public image to draw sponsors. When the fighter disappears, the manager’s relevance disappears too. That’s why he pushes for a new match (chapter 69) —not for the protagonist’s career and sake, but as a desperate attempt to re-anchor himself to glory, Joo Jaekyung and MFC. This means that he is choosing avoidance and as such flight. He lets his puppet fight for him.

But this can only backfire. In his mind, he is imagining that with a new fight, everything will return to normality and as such it will be like in the past. But he is overlooking two aspects: (chapter 69) The announcement that MFC will “line up a match” for Joo Jaekyung after the fall competition marks a pivotal moment — not of triumph, but of quiet exclusion. The phrasing itself is telling. The main lead is not invited to compete in the main event. He is not allowed to fight for the title. His role has been reduced to a postscript — a gesture, not a priority. For a fighter who once carried the brand’s identity, this is not simply a delay. It is a symbolic sidelining. In other words, the new champions and the CEO fear the star. (chapter 69) So with this new request, the manager ignores the reality that Jaekyung has been removed from the competitive spotlight. (chapter 69) He continues to speak as though the champion’s future is intact, as if the title is still within reach. But the organization’s actions speak louder: Jaekyung is no longer a contender — he is being gradually abandoned, not promoted. Secondly, Park Namwook assumes that Jaekyung will win the next fight, as if victory is still within his grasp. But this trust is misplaced — not only because the fighter is recovering from surgery, but because the schemers may have already designed this match as a final blow. Another fight right after a surgery, a staged defeat, or a quiet elimination would neatly push Jaekyung out without public controversy. By assigning him a marginal, delayed match, they are not offering redemption — they are orchestrating his exit.

MFC manipulates the manager’s selfishness and uses him as a tool to cover up the previous scandals. They feed him the illusion that he’s still in control, but the fall match is just a distraction—a public reset. I would even add that the manager seems to know that the ranking is not reflecting reality and even that the ranking is manipulated. . (chapter 69) The causal link here is suspect. Rankings in professional fighting aren’t determined solely by inactivity, especially when medical suspension is publicly known. So the manager tries to blame ranking drop on inactivity, but the inactivity isn’t prolonged enough to justify such a steep fall — from 1st to 3rd within 1 month and half. Besides, observe the drop of sweat on his face, a sign of discomfort and as such deception. Moreover, he is hesitating, visible with the points of suspension. indicating his awkwardness and lack of honesty. In addition, he is speaking exactly like MFC (he lost the last match, while it was just a tie) and finally he shouldn’t be employing the expression “it’s been a while”, as barely two months passed since his match with Baek Junmin. In other words, the man is delivering the message from MFC. He becomes a complicit agent, cloaking corporate strategy in soft euphemisms. This signifies, he is no longer acting as the owner of Team Black, though on the surface, it still looks like the man has the title of gym owner. The deeper irony lies in the fact that the true owner of Team Black is Joo Jaekyung. It is his money and name that built the gym’s reputation. It is his popularity, victories, and public image that attracted members, sponsors, and influence. Legally, financially, and symbolically, Jaekyung is the one holding the structure together.

That’s how it dawned on me that the schemers could be deceived too. I think, the CEO from MFC and Choi Gilseok still perceive Joo Jaekyung as “just a fighter” because of Park Namwook’s attitude: an asset, a brand face, a body to manage. (chapter 17) They don’t see him as someone with legal or institutional power. But that’s their fatal blind spot. Since Jaekyung co-owns or outright owns Team Black, this makes him: A partner (or even rival) in MFC’s talent pipeline; an employer and a stakeholder in fighter safety. He has the same position than Choi Gilseok. Therefore as the owner of Team Black, he can sue the gym King of MMA and Choi Gilseok. He can take action against the CEO for negligence, corruption or abuse of authority. (chapter 47) Finally, he can testify not only as a fighter, but as a representative of the institution they tried to exploit. That elevates his voice: from a disposable athlete to a legal opponent with organizational standing.

Worse, if anything goes wrong, Park Namwook is now positioned as the scapegoat and spy. He didn’t reveal certain things to his boss, like for example how his members could never win. This character shows how fight (blame, control) and flight (denial, delegation. omission) are merely two faces of the same cowardice. His false peace rests on borrowed time and power—and it’s collapsing.

Kim Dan: From Submission to Resistance—and Back Again

Kim Dan’s survival mechanism was silence as well. As a child, he learned that speaking up would change nothing. (chapter 57) Secondly, the vanishing of his parents were also swept under the carpet. That’s how he internalized powerlessness. Fleeing (chapter 1), deflecting, and disappearing became natural. With the grandmother, with doctors (chapter 1), with institutions—he obeyed. He accepted his fate as a fatality. But with Jaekyung, a new pattern emerged. Slowly, he began to resist: he set boundaries, raised his voice, argued with his boss, even used physical gestures to assert himself. (chapter 7) For a moment, he was fighting.

But without mutual trust (chapter 51), this resistance could not hold. His boss and client never fully opened up, and so Dan, sensing instability, retreated again. (chapter 53) The brief flicker of agency collapsed. And this reflects a deeper psychological truth: resistance is not sustainable unless it is met with recognition. Otherwise, it begins to feel dangerous. Dan learned how to fight—but he never learned that he was allowed to win. Because deep down, Dan has internalized a belief shaped by trauma and lifelong submission:

Doc Dan has begun to resist, to speak, and even to walk away—but deep down, he still struggles to believe that success, safety, or love are things he’s truly entitled to. He acts, but with hesitation. He asserts himself, but doubts linger. He’s not powerless anymore—but the belief that he must always yield hasn’t fully let go of him either. That’s why he keeps mentioning the debts. (chapter 67) Moreover, in contrast to Season 1, Kim Dan is no longer the invisible caregiver or obedient grandson. Thanks to Joo Jaekyung’s presence—disruptive and painful as it was—he began to form an independent identity (chapter 57), one no longer shaped entirely by duty or guilt. The grandmother, however, is blind to this change. She continues to speak to him as if he’s the same self-sacrificing boy (chapter 65) who followed orders quietly and centered his life around pleasing others. Her suggestion that he “returns to Seoul” assumes he still views that as his place. But Dan refuses.

This refusal is significant. It is not only a rejection of her directive (chapter 57) —it is a rejection of the belief that he exists only to serve. In Season 2, Dan says “no” repeatedly:

  • He refuses Jaekyung’s offer of support. (chapter 60) (chapter 67)
  • He ignores the sleep specialist’s recommendations and denies the seriousness of his condition.
  • He rejects Potato’s suggestion to return to the gym. (chapter 58)
  • He only listens to the nurse, when the latter uses her authority on him. (chapter 57)

Although he is clearly struggling emotionally, there is something new about his detachment: it is not just trauma withdrawal—it is the first fragile assertion of selfhood. For the first time, he is choosing himself, even if that choice leads him into making bad decisions and a quiet depression. He is not clinging to roles that once gave him safety—he is testing the silence between identities.

And this is precisely what the grandmother fails to understand: Dan is no longer a reflection of her expectations. He is trying to become someone who belongs to himself. And her ignorance can be perceived, when she brings up the past. (chapter 65) She uses his past flaws to outline his immaturity and need of guidance. However, she is not taking into consideration the transformation in the doctor due to the recent incidents (switched spray). He is no longer the same than he was 6 months ago or 2 years old. He changed thanks to the athlete and because of unfortunate events (sexual harassment from the hospital director, switched spray). But the halmoni has no idea about such incidents.

And so he, too, begins to confuse avoidance (chapter 61) with peace. He gives in to silence in front of Shin Okja again, not because he believes it is right, but because he believes it is safer. So far, he has not confronted his grandmother’s decisions yet.

The Grandmother: Avoidance Disguised as Selflessness

The grandmother represents the clearest embodiment of the flight response. (chapter 53) Unlike Park Namwook who uses blame and delegation in professional settings, she applies emotional avoidance in private and familial spaces. Much like the manager, she outsources responsibility, asking others to step in (chapter 53) (chapter 65) rather than engaging directly. She avoids difficult conversations, never once asking doc Dan about the nature of his work or why he followed her to the West Coast. (chapter 65) Her silence is not protective—it is evasive.

As someone who is not a fighter by temperament or experience, she avoids confrontation and choices. Hence she asks for help from the champion behind her grandson’s back. This internalized passivity is mirrored in her body: she cannot fight back against cancer. (chapter 5) Her illness becomes a metaphor for her mindset. She relies on external systems: her grandson (chapter 53), doctors (chapter 7), medication, comfort (chapter 21), and other people (nurse, Joo Jaekyung) —to maintain her emotional balance. But as doc Dan himself once observed, she is ultimately on her own in her battle. No system can fight it for her.

This mindset surfaces again when the oncologist, Dr. Kim Miseon, reproaches doc Dan for not visiting his grandmother. The implication is blame. However, this accusation is not entirely grounded: doc Dan had arranged for a nurse to provide care and companionship. (chapter 7) His grandmother was not truly abandoned; she simply equated his physical absence with neglect, ignoring the emotional and financial burden he already carried. Like Park Namwook, she prefers others to carry the discomfort while maintaining a façade of suffering and sacrifice. (chapter 65)

Her passivity is cloaked in martyrdom—”I did everything for you”—yet it deprives doc Dan of emotional reciprocity. In her world, emotional closeness is conditional (chapter 47) , and her narrative of selflessness becomes another form of emotional pressure. She does not yell, she does not accuse directly, but her avoidance is equally powerful in shaping Dan’s self-image as a burden. Doc Dan came to internalize that she suffered because of him. (chapter 5) Hence he made sure to shield her from any pain.

Her return to her hometown and her stay at the hospice reflect a deeper psychological strategy: she is not preparing to die, but attempting to escape death—to feel young again (chapter 65), protected, comforted. Surrounded by nurses, medication, and routine, she finds temporary peace in an environment that simulates safety. The hospice does not cure her illness, but it cushions it. This illusion allows her to smile again, to relax—but only up to a point. Kim Dan’s gradual deterioration (chapter 57) —his visible exhaustion, disconnection, and quiet suffering—becomes a thorn in her eye, a reminder that her peace is not whole. As long as he suffers, she cannot entirely escape the shadow of her own regrets. Sending him away to Seoul represents a new of flight. Out of sight means out of mind. That way the grandmother wouldn‘t have to worry about doc Dan, as he has been entrusted to the athlete.

Survival Mode and Selective Laziness: The Blind Spots of Belief

As explained in Dr. Frost (chapter 163) and supported by the article on confirmation bias, human survival was deeply dependent on mental shortcuts. Biases were not flaws, but adaptive tools — heuristics that helped our ancestors make quick decisions under threat. Faced with a potential predator, they could not afford the luxury of curiosity or debate. Run first, think later. (chapter 163) In this sense, biases were effective precisely because they increased the chance of survival.

This explains why all four characters in Jinx behave irrationally at times — not because they are inherently flawed, but because they are trapped in survival mode. Joo Jaekyung, Kim Dan, Park Namwook, and the grandmother all exhibit narrow thinking and emotional rigidity because their nervous systems are wired for defense, not reflection. They are biased — not out of malice, but because their minds are trying to protect them.

For example, Park Namwook began as a cheerful, strategic manager. (chapter 9) But once Joo Jaekyung became the target of criticism and scandals, his fear response activated. (chapter 52) He grew rigid, controlling, and increasingly biased. The infamous slap in the hospital was not a calculated choice — it was the culmination of fear, the eruption of unresolved stress and repressed blame. His mind no longer could no longer hide behind fake understanding; it sought a target.

The article on selective laziness explains how people apply critical thinking unevenly, questioning what threatens them while blindly trusting what confirms their worldview.

The result of this study is visible in Jinx. While, the manager thought that the next match was too soon in episode 41, (chapter 41) he recommends the opposite at the restaurant because the idea comes from the CEO! (chapter 69)

In addition to the earlier exploration of confirmation bias, Jennifer Delgado’s article 5 cognitive biases limit our potential” offers another compelling extension. She explains how biases don’t just distort perception—they actively constrain personal growth. She introduces 5 different cognitive biases and one of them is “Hindsight bias”.

Hindsight bias is the tendency to look back on a decision and reinterpret it as better, wiser, or more inevitable than it actually was. To reduce discomfort or self-doubt, we modify our memory of past motives, downplay any hesitation or contradiction, and reframe our choice as the best one all along. This can be observed in this image: (chapter 65) The grandmother quietly rewrites the past to preserve her emotional comfort. Her statement — “I told him I wanted to see the ocean, but I never imagined he’d end up settling down here” — seems reflective on the surface, but it is a clear case of hindsight bias. She reframes her earlier decision as simple and innocent (as if it was a trip), downplaying the emotional pressure she placed on Kim Dan to follow her. By minimizing her role in shaping his circumstances, she subtly shifts responsibility onto him, as if his decision to stay was entirely his own, disconnected from her influence. This distortion allows her to avoid guilt and maintain the illusion of benevolence. However, if she truly meant, she desired to go on a trip (chapter 53), she should have voiced before that the doctor had misunderstood her. However, she claims that this place is her hometown, and with her request to the champion, she implies that she desires to stay in that little town: (chapter 65) It was her decision to settle down at the hospice.

Even more revealing is her next comment: “I really don’t know what that boy plans to do with his life.” This confession exposes her emotional detachment. Despite being the one who uprooted his life, she has made no effort to understand his goals, his work, or his emotional needs. Her words reflect not only a lack of curiosity, but also a passive disavowal of responsibility. She speaks as if Dan were a stranger, even though she has shaped his life through silent expectation and unspoken control. The peaceful ocean backdrop masks this deeper avoidance. Her worldview remains rooted in survival logic and emotional self-preservation — not genuine connection or growth.

By reinforcing outdated beliefs, we avoid novelty, risk, and the emotional labor required for change.

When we have deep-seated beliefs, we stop questioning them and simply assume they are true. This limits our ability to grow, learn, and discover new perspectives. This insight sheds further light on the characters’ emotional stagnation in Jinx. Park Namwook clings to obsolete narratives about leadership and discipline, failing to acknowledge how the landscape—and Jaekyung—have changed. His insistence on orchestrating a comeback fight is not strategic foresight, but cognitive rigidity disguised as professionalism.

The grandmother is likewise restricted by inherited beliefs: that safety, solitude, and hard work (chapter 65) are the cornerstones of survival. She only has friends, when she needs them (see for example the champion). These assumptions once protected her, but now they prevent her from evolving—from supporting Dan emotionally, from engaging in reciprocal dialogue, and from allowing herself to face death consciously rather than evade it.

Even Joo Jaekyung’s belief that strength equals stoicism prevented him from confronting the truth of his own vulnerability. Only through Kim Dan’s influence did he begin to question this inner script—and once he did, the false foundations began to crumble. He has just started healing emotionally; he is starting questioning the corrupt systems surrounding him, including MFC’s exploitation. This means, the existence of his jinx is vanishing.

This second article reinforces a deeper truth: that healing requires not only confronting pain, but also dismantling the faulty reasoning that keeps us blind. As long as the characters were clinging to biases, they remained paralyzed—unable to process what had happened to them, or recognize the larger forces at play. Hence they could never be happy. But the moment they begin to question themselves and speak honestly with one another, they also begin to see clearly—not just inwardly, but outwardly.

This explains why doc Dan ignored Jaekyung’s advice about medication and health. (chapter 67) His survival bias told him: “Don’t trust a man who once treated you violently.” or “Doctors are ignorant, they don’t know me“. It was easier to discredit the source than to weigh the merit of the message. Likewise, in Season 1, the champion dismissed doc Dan’s medical opinions (chapter 41), trusting instead in MFC and his agency — despite the fact that those institutions are overtly motivated by money. His bias protected his ego, but at the cost of his health and relationships.

Park Namwook falls into the same trap: he considers Jaekyung a “spoiled child” (chapter 7) (chapter 40) who needs to fight to prove himself, yet likely doesn’t treat his own family this way. (chapter 45) His double standard is not conscious hypocrisy — it’s a form of selective laziness. He does not challenge his beliefs because doing so would unravel the identity he’s built as a competent, authoritative manager.

The grandmother also embodies survival-driven bias. She believes that working hard and seeking fame are acts of love and stand for happiness— but she never questions the emotional cost. (chapter 65) She doesn’t help her grandson build friendships (chapter 57) (chapter 65) or a support network. It is not her fault, if she never met doc Dan’s friends in the past while hiding the fact that he had been bullied by his peers. Her request for him to return to Seoul, a place he has no roots, only furthers his habit of isolation. Similarly, when she asked Jaekyung to bring him to Seoul and have him diagnosed, she implicitly discouraged any shared decision-making. Like Park Namwook, she bypassed dialogue in favor of directive control, reinforcing the habit of emotional withdrawal.

As the article states,

But her attitude blocks precisely that — there is no exchange of ideas, no real conversation. Only avoidance wrapped in concern and requests.

This is why neither Jaekyung nor Kim Dan were “thinking properly” earlier in the story. They were not free to. Their brains were in survival mode, stuck in flight or fight, not reflection. But once the champion saw Dan again — saw that he was still there, still himself — his anxiety softened. He began to press MFC for answers. (chapter 67) That shift marks a turning point from survival to conscious thought. The mind cannot reflect when it believes it is under attack. The tragedy is not that these characters are irrational — it’s that they were taught fear before they were taught trust. Thus I come to the following conclusion. As soon as both are curious about each other (chapter 69), they are now free from their bias and prejudices. (chapter 69) They will be able to communicate which will help them to discover the truth about MFC. Yes, their ability to ponder will lead them to unmask the villains and defeat their opponents. By fighting for justice, both will discover true peace of mind. This hardship at the end of season 1 was necessary to reset their heart and mind: what is the true meaning of life? Money? Work? Duty? Sacrifice?… The answer is happiness which is strongly intertwined with love and selflessness.

The topic for the next essay is:

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: While They Embrace 🫂: The Western Tempest 🌬️🍃🌊

The Announcement of the Storm

In episode 69, the weather report is not just an ambient detail: (chapter 69) it is a harbinger of disruption. A radio broadcast delivers the warning: skies turning cloudy, strong winds forecasted at 20 to 25 meters per second. This is no ordinary breeze. It signals the arrival of a whole gale—powerful enough to topple trees, strip rooftops, and fracture routines.

Its target is not random: the western front. On the other hand, the reporter used the expression “storm warning”, so the wind scale on the coast should be higher and as such bring more damages. Either it is a mistake from the author or a deliberate decision to imply that the tempest could be worse on the coast than predicted, this observation outlines that we should expect destruction in the grandmother’s hometown. To conclude, both geographically and symbolically, this setting becomes the stage for upheaval, emotional exposure, and irreversible transformation. Like an uninvited guest, the gale is not background—it is catalyst and character at once.

But even before Jinx-philes could hear this “terrible” news, Mingwa had already announced the arrival of the storm with this image, (chapter 69) as the champion’s sleek white car raced toward the tunnel, into a sky veiled by darkening clouds. This image foreshadowed the impending tempest not just in weather, but in fate. However, the celebrity didn’t pay too much attention to the warning, lost in thoughts, which is symbolized by the tunnel. The latter represents the protagonist’s ignorance, recklessness and “stubbornness” (he can not forget his loved one, he can not bear to leave his side). He races toward change, still shrouded in his old mindset, while nature prepares to strip away his last remaining believes and illusions.

Material Loss and Emotional Awakening

Striking is that after his meeting with the CEO of MFC, Joo Jaekyung decided to return straight to the little town. (chapter 69) Hence he is still wearing his dark blue shirt, pants and an expensive watch. But more importantly, he is now driving his white sports car. This means before meeting his hyung and the CEO, he went to the penthouse and changed not only his outfit but also his vehicle. He selected the white car, (chapter 69) Since the latter is a high-performance luxury model, it symbolizes wealth, speed, and prestige. That’s how he wanted to appear in front of the CEO. However, now he is going to the place where the storm will be the most violent. Because the star is still dressed in his dark blue shirt and expensive watch, I came to the following interpretation. This is not the champion in training clothes, but a man who now owns time (chapter 69) – it is the first time that we see the champion wearing a watch, marking a shift in his self-perception. (chapter 60) (chapter 61) No longer is he defined by his cellphone or his car, but by a reclaimed sense of agency. (chapter 69) The presence of the watch on his wrist becomes a subtle emblem of regained freedom—he is about to determine his own pace, away from the demands of MFC and Park Namwook. In other words, the western tempest represents a blessing for the athlete, as he is no longer dependent on his cellphone (chapter 38) or his car (chapter 69). Hence the manager can no longer be in touch with him. (chapter 66)

This shift mirrors the storm’s impact: external grandeur (like a fast car) will soon be challenged by a force that does not care for appearances. The car, left parked outdoors near the dock, (chapter 69) or in front of the house (chapter 69) might be damaged or lost to the tempest—a symbolic stripping away of status which reminded me of the way doc Dan treated the halmoni’s Wedding Cabinet. (chapter 53) Both instances symbolize a relinquishing of material attachments (he leaves his huge penthouse for a rented little “hostel”) and a profound shift toward emotional growth. For Jaekyung, the potential loss of his prized possession is not just about property—it marks the beginning of relying on others, accepting vulnerability, and letting go of his rigid, self-reliant identity. Similarly, the doctor’s decision to leave behind the Wedding Cabinet signals a break from the past and a readiness to build something new, no longer defined by inherited burdens or emotional debts. In both cases, possessions lose meaning. With nothing left to prove, the champion accepts vulnerability. He is no longer above asking for help, nor afraid of stillness. And that realization could only emerge under pressure. (chapter 69) He needs Doc Dan, the latter matters so much to him that he can not imagine a life without him. He enjoys this moment, therefore he keeps hugging his “friend and lover”. At the end of episode 69, he no longer pays attention to appearances and his image, therefore he doesn’t mind embracing the physical therapist in front of the crowd.

The Illusion of Safety

The Manhwa repeatedly emphasized the peacefulness of this seaside town. (chapter 57) This initial depiction – of the sparkling blue sea, the gentle rhythm of waves (shaaa), the birds in the sky, the beautiful sunset (chapter 59) and (chapter 58) daily life in slow motion—sets up a stark contrast to the approaching storm. All these images and including the elderly proclaiming , (chapter 65) “It’s a nice little town, isn’t it?”, lulled both the characters and readers into a false sense of permanence. But beauty is ephemeral. Storms, by nature, contradict stability. They sweep away trees, roofs—and with them, pipe dreams.

The grandmother, drawn to the town for its aesthetic charm and warm nostalgia, admired the landscape without realizing the presence of danger next to her. She confessed to Kim Dan her admiration for the ocean due its beauty, but ignored its dangers: the waves, the wind and storms. (chapter 53) That’s why Mingwa zoomed on her gaze, but “cut” her ears, a symbol for her “deafness”. Hence she didn’t hear and feel the wind during her stroll with the champion. (chapter 65) The ocean can also represent a source of misery. Her wish to see the ocean again (chapter 53), bathed in the orange glow of a perfect sunset, reflected her toxic positivity—her tendency to ignore pain and erase any negative memories, including a life marked by hardship in Seoul. It encapsulated her attempt to embellish the past and project into the present (chapter 65) and future, disregarding reality, assuming the ocean/town’s beauty promised tranquility without acknowledging the lurking danger it could also bring. Her nostalgia operates as an emotional escape hatch—a curated fantasy where beauty masks regret. When she speaks of “seeing it one last time,” it is not a celebration of memory, but a quiet refusal to face her past failures and the reality of her present. For her, the coast is a postcard of serenity —a static image of peace and perfection she once clung to in her old home (chapter 17), where the walls were decorated with actual postcards of beaches she had never visited. These were not souvenirs, but illusions—windows into an idealized elsewhere that helped her ignore the hardship around her.

But the truth is harsher: this coastline is not a sanctuary, but a reckoning ground. (chapter 65) The ocean she admired in stillness now roars back with force, revealing that beauty without awareness is blindness. She never questioned the risks of living so close to the sea, nor imagined that its quietude could turn to devastation.

What she failed to grasp is now undeniable: nature has its own rhythm, one that does not bow to sentimentality. The storm, arriving with relentless gusts and shattering winds, becomes a physical embodiment of everything she tried to repress—her suffering, guilt, her dependency (chapter 56), her illusions of control. This is not poetic justice, but poetic truth. She cannot walk. (chapter 65) She cannot escape. The wind howling outside her window will no longer be ambient noise—it is a reminder that she has no dominion here.

Mingwa visually marked this shift in power through the evolving position of her bed. In Seoul, her bed stood far from the window (chapter 47), symbolizing distance from reality. In the hospice, it is placed next to the window (chapter 56) —yet initially hidden by doc Dan and veiled by Venetian blinds, limiting her view and insulating her from the outside world. When the champion first visits, the blinds are gone (chapter 61), revealing trees and the sky—nature encroaching. By her second stroll with Jaekyung, the image of the window reappears (chapter 65), subtly reminding readers of its fragility. Now, as the storm rolls in, the trees outside become potential hazards, and the window that once offered a view might shatter. Should this happen, then it will rupture her illusion of control and all her repressed fears should come to the surface.

This evolution of space is rich with symbolism. It recalls her former home , (chapter 19) where another window—damaged and offering no real view—served as a silent witness to a life steeped in avoidance. In that space, a young Kim Dan sat beside her, answering a phone call. The fact that someone talked to him, not to her, already suggested the grandmother’s emotional detachment—the parent reached out to the boy, not to her. That room, like her present one, was filled with silence—not peace, but repression. She masked that silence with superficial comforts: beach postcards, a television, the illusion of a serene life. Now, the storm returns not just with wind (SHAAA), but with sound—branches breaking, waves crashing, windows shuddering—forcing all she suppressed to the surface.

The tempest breaches the last barrier of her denial. Her nostalgia, her careful staging of death as beauty, her belief in sunsets and serenity—all are ripped open. She who relied on silence and routine is now assaulted by noise and unpredictability. And as nature surges against the thin pane separating her from its chaos, she may realize: the stories she told herself were never shelter. The storm was always coming. This visual evolution suggests that the very boundary between her illusion and reality will be violently breached. (chapter 65) The hospice doctor had predicted more time based on a perceived serenity in her condition, suggesting her body was at peace after halting chemotherapy. (chapter 56) But he misjudged her case for two reasons. First, the file had been tampered: she had received a new treatment. Secondly, he did not know her. What he saw as acceptance was actually a mix of comfort, avoidance and unresolved fear. The gale will expose the limits of both clinical assumptions and self-deception. The woman who once believed she could choose the time and manner of her death now faces nature’s blunt reminder: she is not in control of life and time—nor of anything else.

Trapped by the tempest, she is finally forced into the present. No longer able to rely on routines, expectations, or her grandson’s immediate care, she faces the one thing she has evaded: herself. The illusion of being the caregiver, the elder with wisdom, disintegrates in the face of a reality where she must depend on others—or be left behind. And so, what the storm exposes is not just danger. It exposes that the comfort she claimed to have built (chapter 56) was never truly hers to begin with.

The Town on the Edge facing the Tempest

The little town in Jinx is not just a backdrop (chapter 56) —it is a layered terrain of symbolism and vulnerability. Perched on what appears to be a peninsula (chapter 65) in a bay (chapter 57), the settlement is structured by elevation: the beach and ocean lie at level 0 (chapter 60) ; the docks, roads, and shops follow at level 1 (chapter 62) (chapter 69); and the town proper stretches up with retaining walls (chapter 58) to the hilltop, where the hospice (chapter 59) (Light of Hope) overlook the coast and the landlord’s house (chapter 57) almost stands on the top of the hills. These heights offer a commanding view—but they also expose the buildings to the full brunt of the western tempest.

The hospice, in particular, is framed as the most precarious point, as it is surrounded by trees and facing the ocean (chapter 57). I came to this deduction, as the champion could see the building from the beach, when he rescued doc Dan. (chapter 60) Secondly, the nurses could see the ocean from the window of the hospice. Due to its location, the building becomes the most likely target for falling branches, gale-force winds, and perhaps even landslides. Notice that this town is built on retaining walls, like we can detect in the last image and the following panel: (chapter 69) This is why the hospice, perched high on a hill surrounded by woods, becomes both sanctuary and risk. (chapter 61) Like pointed out before, his name is misleading, for hope implies “rescue”. However, a stay in that place means that their “inhabitants” are all destined to die due to cancer. There’s no real cure there. In other words, the tempest will bring to light its true nature. The hope, just like its comfort, are illusory.

Though the landlord’s house is close to the top of the hills like the hospital, his house is not facing the ocean, (chapter 57) it is turning its back to it. That’s why I developed the theory that the town is built on a peninsula. This means, the storm should reach them first and at his highest peak. On the other hand, the hills could restrain the gusts and affect less the landlord’s house. On the other hand, it is nestled near trees (chapter 57), fields and close to two power masts (chapter 61), so it is quite vulnerable as well. Therefore one might think that the champion’s hostel is similarly exposed to potential outages or structural damage. (chapter 65) Nevertheless, the house is slightly shielded by a high fence and secondly the form of the roof and the absence of high trees and power masts imply that his home is better “prepared” to face such a weather. Moreover, observe that his house (chapter 69) is so built that you don’t need to leave the building in order to “enter” a different room (kitchen, bathroom) contrary to the landlord’s. (chapter 57) The landlord’s hanok, traditional and open in its architecture, offers comfort and warmth under normal conditions—but becomes deeply vulnerable in a storm. Built around a central courtyard, it requires residents to step outside to move between rooms. Such exposure, so harmless in good weather, now turns hazardous. Even getting to the kitchen or another room could risk injury. The doctor, who has been staying there, may no longer be safe.

This architectural vulnerability sets the stage for an unexpected shift: Joo Jaekyung becomes the shelter once again.

Unlike the hanok, Jaekyung’s home is enclosed, protected, and perched farther from the treeline and power masts. It becomes the most stable haven in the storm. The champion—who once embodied force and solitude—now extends care and refuge. If he invites Kim Dan, the landlord, Boksoon and her puppies into his home, it signifies more than kindness. It signals growth. He is no longer just the “Emperor” who takes what he wants. He becomes a real guardian. At the same time, it would help doc Dan to review his perception about his loved one. The champion might have not seen him just as a tool this entire time.

This possibility starkly contrasts with an earlier scene where the celebrity’s home served as a quiet, solitary place while others—Potato, Heesung, and the landlord—danced joyfully under the stars in the hanok’s courtyard. (chapter 58) Back then, Jaekyung was still on the outside of that communal warmth. But with such a prediction, the roles would be reversed. His home would become the beacon of safety, and he would be the one providing it.

Even more, the landlord—observant and unbothered by status—might become the first to voice Jaekyung’s good personality and generosity. He would offer praise not based on fame, but on integrity. Perhaps he’ll simply say, “He’s the kind of man who protects others.” and relate to doc Dan what the champion did in the past (chapter 62) There’s no doubt that the dogs will be invited to his home, as her place is right under a tree and power mast. (chapter 57) The landlord may even encourage the fighter to adopt a puppy from Boksoon’s litter, as he can see the champion’s care and sense of responsibility—not just for himself, but for another life.

Thus, a storm not only destroys; it reconfigures. The champion’s house, once a private retreat, may become the very heart of healing. Though no one is truly safe in front of a tempest, the latter serves as a message from the gods. The geographical truth becomes a narrative truth. The further up they go in elevation, the more isolated they are—and the more their illusions of control and security are tested. While the ones spend time to share their past and worries to others, the other is on her own at the hospice. She has no one by her side to talk to. There’s no doubt that the staff will become more busy due to the storm. Traditions can be exposed as vulnerabilities, like the Korean Hanok, at the same time, the gale helps to create deep bonds. To conclude, the storm, in this light, becomes not just a force of nature, but a force of truth: stripping away façades, toppling routines, and confronting each character with the reality they tried to avoid.

The Storm in Literature

Storms in literature are more than weather. They are moments of rupture, passion, and transformation. They can symbolize:

In Jinx, the western tempest embodies all these layers. It peels back the narrative’s social and emotional veneers. Let me give you an example. Just before the gale hits the little town, the champion exposes his emotions toward his fated partner (chapter 69), when he hugs him. It announces the instant where the champion gave up on controlling his feelings. The gale announces the end of “internal turmoil”. So the moment they are together waiting for the storm to pass, they can do nothing except talking and cooking. Hence we should expect that Joo Jaekyung will expose his mental and emotional struggles to doc Dan (reference to point 1, 2,3,4 and 5), triggered by the offer from the CEO. (chapter 69) Such a confession would push the physical therapist to redefine his relationship with the celebrity: he is indeed his friend, even a close one. And if this takes place, then the doctor could start opening up as well. The tempest reveals fragility, forces new beginnings, and exposes fair-weather allies. (chapter 69) The moment the champion exposes his fears and doubts, doc Dan would prove to the champion that he is no fair-weather ally contrary to Park Namwook, who pushes him back to the ring. The grandmother, so proud of her roots (chapter 57) and wisdom, finds herself outmatched—not by age, but by wind. Her idea of safety is shattered. Like pointed out before, the storm embodies present. So if they come to enjoy this time of respite together, they will realize that this “tragedy” for others represented a “blessing” for them.

Meanwhile, the storm breaks Kim Dan’s dependency cycle. He doesn’t have to rush, to fix, to prove. He is where he needs to be. The champion, too, is cut off from old obligations. Park Namwook cannot track him. He has been “blocked”—not digitally, but karmically. Moreover, if he loses his car, he has to rely on the “old man”, his neighbor. His move will be limited. His immobility would push the manager to “move” which would expose the true nature of their relationship. the manager is in reality dependent on the celebrity. The roles have changed.The champion, like the grandmother, has used routine to mask his suffering: her toxic positivity versus his self-reliant pessimism. So thanks to the storm, the athlete’s perception about life would be switched. His reputation as a fighter would no longer seem relevant. I would even add, the tempest will remove the sportsman’s negativity

They are forced to stay indoors, isolated together, but they can not have sex, for according to my prediction, the two protagonists would be living with the landlord and the animals. The chaos outside contrasts their stillness inside. There’s no gym, no manager, no routines. The sandbag in the courtyard (chapter 69) would be left outside, symbolizing that this “sport” has become less central and vital in the main lead’s life. This is the first true pause in their relationship. Jaekyung, used to immediate gratification and external control, must slow down. And for the first time, he will see what he always overlooked: that meals take effort, that conversation has value, as it can help to get closer to another person. He doesn’t need the grandmother to get “through Kim Dan”. (chapter 65) Finally, if my prediction is correct, then by living with different people in a small place, he will realize the benefits of relying on others. He will discover the joy of having a family, having found a home. The storm creates a space for redefinition.

Five Disrupted Relationships

And so this tempest arrives not as an arbitrary backdrop but as a settlement. It disrupts the emotional architecture of the story—a confrontation, not a solution. The storm demands serenity; it strips away distraction and busyness, leaving space only for meditation. Characters can no longer move as they did before—they must pause, reflect, and reckon with themselves. The power outages, closed roads, and uprooted trees reflect the characters’ inner disruptions, they can no longer avoid certain problems in their own life: death, grief, fear, past, vulnerability, and the need to change. The weather has no concern for hierarchy.

1. Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung

They are forced to remain indoors, potentially together. This is the first real pause in their story. Jaekyung, used to forward motion and clear roles, is confronted with the quiet. Here, he may begin to notice what he once ignored: the care behind every cooked meal, the invisible labor of the doctor, and the need to protect rather than possess. The wind howls outside, but inside, something tender brews.

2. Boksoon and the Puppies:

The small shelter where Boksoon gave birth is near a tree. It is no longer safe. She and her pups must be relocated—an urgent reminder of how quickly new life can be endangered. (chapter 66) Jaekyung, who has never seen the puppies, might discover them now. That discovery mirrors his gradual awareness of fragility and caretaking. For Kim Dan, nurturing the puppies symbolizes reclaiming his capacity for love and responsibility—free from obligation.

3. Shin Okja

Her admiration for the ocean and the town has been steeped in toxic positivity. She longed for a perfect sunset, a beautiful memory to crown her life. But she ignored the storm warnings—both literal and emotional. When she finally faces the tempest, the comfort she clung to shatters.

In Season 1, she summoned Kim Dan whenever she feared death (chapter 21) and needed company. (chapter 21) The doctor would drop everything and rush to her side overlooking his own health. But now, with blocked roads and dangerous winds, Kim Dan cannot come—even if he wants to. He is no longer her servant or safety net. Nature has intervened where he could not set a boundary.

The grandmother must confront her own helplessness. Her seniority no longer grants her power. And if she calls out for her grandson and he does not come, she will be forced to realize: she is on her own. (chapter 5) Doc Dan can not assist her anyway, as he can do nothing against nature.

4. Park Namwook

The storm isolates the manager. Without power, without a car, and without knowledge of Jaekyung’s location, he is rendered irrelevant. The champion’s phone may be off. The line has gone dead—literally and symbolically. The manager, always able to take advantage of the celebrity’s loyalty and sense of responsibility, finds himself “blocked.” (chapter 5) Thus his anxieties should reach a new peak. His grip on the boy he used to control is gone. The storm draws a line between who remains—and who fades.

In Jinx, the western tempest is all of these. It tears through the “good-weather” relationships and reveals what’s real. Therefore it is no coincidence, when Choi Heesung and Potato met doc Dan again, (chapter 58) the ocean was calm and the sky very blue. Both embodied this notion: good-weather friends. Characters who stayed out of convenience or obligation vanish. Those who remain—like the landlord, Boksoon, and eventually Jaekyung (chapter 68)—stand firm.

5. The Landlord

The landlord, in particular, becomes the story’s quiet moral compass. His home, his fan, his calm attitude, and even his absence of curiosity about fame set the standard. When he welcomes Joo Jaekyung, it isn’t out of admiration. It’s decency and a longing for company. (chapter 61) Therefore I perceive him as the eye of the storm. (chapter 69) That’s why he looks at the horizon. From my perspective, he is used to such events, hence when the storm hits the coast, he will be prepared mentally. Thus he could share his experiences and thoughts to the two young men.

Conclusions

Finally, the western tempest stands in direct contrast to the grandmother’s sunset dream. (chapter 53) She imagined a final golden moment—warm, serene, and nostalgic before her death. But instead, she gets gusts and branches crashing down. In that sense, the tempest is her lesson: Humans are not superior to nature. They can not control time, nature and destinies. Moreover, nature does not serve our stories. It tells its own.

The storm, then, is not about destruction. It is about clarity. It forces all façades to fall. And when the winds calm, what remains is not who spoke loudest, but who stayed. In this story, the western tempest does not simply pass. It reshapes everything. Moreover, a storm is not “eternal”. So after the tempest, there’s sunshine—a sign that happiness may finally be within reach for the two protagonists.

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: While They Embrace 🫂: The Mysterious Landlord 🏠🐕

As Kim Dan asks his fated partner (chapter 69) and the latter stands stunned in the late-summer breeze, the moment seems suspended in light and silence. The doctor’s words are accompanied by a subtle music: the wind. It whispers through the panel with an audible “WHOOSH,” not covering doc Dan’s voice but giving it resonance. The wind, like words, travels through the air and reaches the celebrity’s ear. It connects characters across distance, marking the invisible line of perception, reaction, and awakening. But behind this charged reunion lies a quiet figure—barely visible, yet unmistakably present: the landlord. In this image, the old man appears only for a second, dressed in a jacket and green cap, almost blending into the night. He does not speak. He does not move. And yet, everything in that scene bears his mark.

The Invitation to Move

From the sneakers on Kim Dan’s feet to the jacket he wears (chapter 69), and the bags of groceries in his hands, traces of the landlord’s influence are everywhere. Whether it was Kim Dan who offered his help or the landlord who extended the invitation, the result was mutual: for the first time, they acted as a community—two individuals sharing the same roof and engaging in reciprocal care. I observed that through this interaction, the doctor was subtly encouraged to behave differently. He was not merely going shopping. That quiet moment served as a turning point—an invitation to rejoin life, to move on, to dress with care, to claim space. While others meddle, accuse, or abandon, the landlord quietly watches, nudges, and supports. He is not the star of the scene, but its breath. He is the breeze before the embrace. The hand behind the rescue.

Shaping the Framework Without Words

From this new angle, I reached the insight: the landlord is not only present at pivotal narrative moments, but he actively shapes the emotional framework of season 2 without ever stepping into the spotlight. I observed that in Chapter 69, while readers may initially focus on the tense conversation between the champion, Park Namwook, and the CEO of MFC, there is another figure in the background—the landlord—who discreetly fades behind the couple: (chapter 69) (chapter 69). His presence is easy to miss, but for attentive readers, it’s striking. He appears not as a passerby, but as the very person who guided Kim Dan toward that precise moment of vulnerability and strength. When contrasted with an earlier panel from the same episode, another layer of meaning emerges: in both scenes, the landlord is positioned in a way that suggests symbolic proximity. However, I made a striking observation: in the first panel, he is actually standing behind the champion and in front of Kim Dan. This creates a visual link between the two protagonists, as the landlord appears quite literally between them. I came to the following conclusion: he functions as a bridge or protective force—he does not slap or yell like the manager, but his stillness conveys safety. While he stands at the champion’s back, he faces Kim Dan, as if preparing the ground for their reunion. (chapter 69) These silent, parallel compositions reveal the landlord’s symbolic position as an enduring guardian: not static, but responsive. Therefore his position shifts constantly, either (chapter 65) in front of the couple, or behind Kim Dan in one scene, behind the champion in another.

The Wind That Adjusts

Seen through the lens of the wind metaphor, I discerned something more: the landlord’s mobility reflects a deeper symbolism. (chapter 57) He is not fixed in place like house, wall or obstacle. This explicates why he is almost seen outdoors, even her. Opening the door means allowing the fresh air to enter the room. (chapter 65) He is like the wind, fluid and unobtrusive, adapting to the needs of the moment. His position is never rigid, therefore in the final panel he seems to have vanished. (chapter 69) At times behind Kim Dan, at others behind the champion, he realigns himself without fanfare. I realized this adaptability speaks to something elemental: the wind’s capacity to bend around others, to support without imposing. Unlike characters who plant themselves firmly in conflict (chapter 46) or authority (chapter 65), the landlord responds to what is needed, not what is expected. His flexibility does not stem from indecision—it is born from humility and care. Another aspect contributing to this perception is his ignorance. However, the latter should not be viewed negatively. Since he doesn’t know the champion’s profession or the doctor’s familial and financial situation, he is not projecting expectations or judgments onto them. Rather than acting out of assumption, he simply observes. This is precisely why he doesn’t come across as arrogant. His lack of knowledge becomes a quiet strength—it allows him to respond with presence, not prejudice. Just as the wind moves through open spaces without imposing form or judgment, his unknowing presence allows room for others to breathe and unfold, free from predefined roles or assumptions. (chapter 65) He does not try to define the protagonists by their past or their titles. He lets them define themselves. While he tried to encourage doc Dan to drink and work less, as time passed on, he came to notice his suffering and accept him with his illness. (chapter 69)

Just as the wind moves around structures and creates waves, his presence bends gently to support without overshadowing. This mirrors his role throughout Jinx season 2: he is a man who creates space rather than fills it, who enables others to find their footing by adjusting his own stance. In this way, his neutrality is not passivity, but grace in motion. In the embrace scene (chapter 65), when the waves rise audibly due to the wind, I observed that the landlord is no longer standing directly behind Kim Dan. And yet, a sandal, sock, and pant leg appear in the corner—suggesting he is still nearby. It seems to have stepped back deliberately, allowing privacy and intimacy to unfold. He remains part of the scene, like a breeze, felt but unseen. Another possibility is that he approached the coast guards and explained the champion’s reaction. If this is true, then In doing so, he would have acted not as an intervening outsider, but as a bridge—discreetly smoothing tensions without casting judgment. True to his role as the wind, he doesn’t speak to dominate, but to ease the air around others. Even in his ignorance, he responds not with assumption but with attentiveness—observing first, and acting only when necessary.

Gaze Toward the Horizon

And yet, one detail caught my attention. In the panel at the dock, the landlord is not looking at the champion. (chapter 69) His gaze is directed straight ahead—detached, not reactive. Under this new light, I gathered that he may not be overlooking the scene but instead quietly attuned to something else entirely—the weather. Since the storm had been announced on the news (chapter 69), it is plausible that the landlord is calmly scanning the horizon, sensing the approach of the tempest. After all, he is a farmer (chapter 62) —his livelihood depends on observing the skies. (chapter 69) This attention to weather is not merely practical, but instinctual, shaping his rhythm of life and reinforcing his elemental bond with the air. As a man attuned to nature and grounded in routine, his awareness of such environmental shifts would come naturally. It is not panic or distraction—it is foresight. This reinforces his alignment with the air: he is always mindful of what is coming.

I initially assumed that the errand to the grocery store was directly tied to the storm forecast announced on the news. In such cases, villagers often prepare in advance, buying supplies before conditions worsen. Yet upon closer examination, the atmosphere among the townspeople doesn’t reflect growing panic or haste. (chapter 69) They are murmuring, yes, but their attention is absorbed by the incident at the shore. This led me to reconsider: perhaps the purchase was not consciously connected to the weather after all. And yet, one man quietly stood apart from the crowd—the landlord, his silence and gaze directed not toward the commotion, but toward the open horizon.

This single detail speaks volumes. Unlike others, the landlord does not rely on media reports or buzzing gossip. Notice that he was the last one hearing about the champion’s generosity in the town. (chapter 62) He is a farmer—a man who reads the sky, the wind, and the rhythm of the land. Hence I am inclined to think that his awareness of the approaching storm stems not from a broadcast but from instinct. The wind carries signs, and he is attuned to them. It is even possible that while talking with the coast guards, he learned more about the forecast—not through digital alerts, but through human connection.

In this light, his decision to bring Kim Dan along acquires a new depth. Whether or not the storm was their explicit concern, the moment becomes symbolic: an act of movement, preparation, and subtle care. Once again, he does not push Kim Dan forward but opens the way gently. He creates a path that the doctor can walk—if he chooses to. As with the wind, his influence is neither loud nor commanding. It is felt through presence, not pressure.

Moreover, because of his silent behavior, I could only come to the conclusion that he was not the one recognizing the celebrity’s car parked by the dock. Rather, it must have been Kim Dan himself who noticed the vehicle, then he paid attention to the crowd forming nearby, or the emergency headlights—much like the champion had earlier. This is significant, as it reinforces the landlord’s role as someone who does not act on behalf of others—he simply prepares the space for choice to unfold. And since the two nurses (chapter 69) had already been shown earlier together in the crowd, I suspect that one of them might informed Kim Dan about the incident and the champion’s presence. This would align with the narrative’s kaleidoscopic structure, where certain scenes are reflected in different timelines.

The Hand Fan: A Symbol of Breath

And now, you are probably how I came to associate the landlord with the wind. Earlier in Chapter 66, we encounter one of the most symbolic moments involving the landlord: (chapter 66) the image of him gently fanning himself while sitting in his yard. I detected something immediately intimate and ancient in this gesture. A hand fan, in many East Asian cultures, denotes calm authority, self-discipline, and silence. I interpreted this scene as more than casual: the landlord becomes an embodiment of wind—present, refreshing, yet invisible. A man who can create movement without pressure. It is striking that in a story driven by action, fists, and fame, the one character who moves the plot forward with the least noise is this old man.

Upon closer inspection, I observed that the fan bears printed text and the number “365.” (chapter 66) Under this new light, it dawned on me that the fan was most likely handed out by a local institution—perhaps even the hospice Light of Hope, during a public health campaign or examination event. This means that he is taking good care of himself. One might argue with this interpretation, yet there exists another evidence for this perception. (Chapter 62) He is constantly wearing the green cap, a sign that he knows about the danger of the sun. This stands in opposition to the grandmother who would sell her vegetables without any hat. (chapter 57) These types of fans are typically distributed by hospitals or clinics: practical items with subtle promotional intent. But once in the landlord’s hands, it takes on symbolic weight. The number “365” does not simply represent a calendar year; it represents consistency, time, and the daily rhythm of care.

Strikingly, this fan aligns with the landlord’s quiet guardianship. Just as the fan moderates air and temperature, the landlord moderates the emotional climate of the household.

What’s more, I noticed the fan (chapter 66) is visually divided into six colored columns—blue, green, and orange tones recurring in a harmonious pattern. These colors stand in sharp contrast to the dominant black-and-white or blue-and-red palette of the main couple’s visual identity. This exposes that the landlord is portrayed as a multicolored figure: layered, grounded, and richly nuanced in ways that neither protagonist yet fully embodies. This explains why he is often seen wearing different shades: beige, (chapter 57), white, (chapter 66) gray, (chapter 58), green, (chapter 62), orange (chapter 61) and brown. Yet, his clothes tend to lean toward brown hues, evoking earth and soil—symbols of rootedness and stability.

I came to an additional realization: the landlord doesn’t just enrich the emotional palette of Jinx—he restores the protagonists’ connection to Earth. His presence is grounding. He draws them out of sterile hospital rooms, detached penthouses, and fabricated spotlights, and into the soil-rich air of a small town. He is the one who invites breath, hunger, walking, sleeping—the ordinary rhythms of life that nourish the body and soul. By surrounding himself with the colors of the land—brown, orange, moss green—he reminds the doctor and the champion of a world that does not demand, but simply exists. A world where one can finally pause, take root, and rest.

Rather than simply standing apart, the landlord infuses the narrative with gentle warmth and vibrancy. His colorful presence offers more than emotional flexibility—it introduces a spectrum of life into the protagonists’ otherwise muted and high-contrast world. Previously dominated by blue and red, their visual universe begins to shift through his influence. Under this new light, I realized that he doesn’t just symbolize emotional depth—he brings light and color into their shadows, inviting them to rejoin the world of sensation and groundedness. Consequently, his quiet mission is to help them land back on Earth, to discover rest and a home. Like fresh air through a long-sealed room, his presence is not overwhelming—it simply makes it possible to breathe again.

(chapter 62)

The six-part division also struck me as potentially symbolic. Since the fan appears for the first time in Episode 66, I came to the following conclusion: the six segments may represent his quiet integration into their bond. My idea is that he will not just remain a bystander, but emerge as a surrogate parent figure—not by blood, but by presence. Like a mother, he nourishes, guides, and trusts, yet without smothering or restraining. His care is rhythmical, like breath. His colors are inclusive. His fan—a calendar, a compass, a quiet lullaby. I deduced that he doesn’t simply carry the fan—he embodies what it represents: routine, protection, and the kind of stability Kim Dan has long been denied. The fan becomes an extension of his role: to circulate—not intervene, to cool—not confront.

Air Against Hot Air

Before moving further, a linguistic and symbolic insight struck me: (chapter 65) words and wind share the same pathway—the ear. We do not see them; we hear or feel them. Just like the wind, the landlord’s influence often goes unnoticed unless we attune ourselves. Interestingly, in the English version of Jinx, he refers to Joo Jaekyung as “son” (chapter 69) and Kim Dan as “sonny” (chapter 57) or (chapter 69) “boy.” These terms of address, gentle and familial, contrast sharply with the control and emotional neglect shown by figures like the grandmother or Park Namwook. Because those characters views the main leads as “immature (chapter 65) and irresponsible (chapter 52), they use their “youth and seniority” to assert dominance or demand loyalty and obedience. On the other hand, the landlord positions himself as a silent guardian, perceiving the protagonists as children in need of warmth and care, not correction. (chapter 62) His words, like the breeze, are few and soft—but when spoken, they carry weight. This brings me to a broader observation. I detected that the hand fan becomes a symbol of breath itself (chapter 66) —the very thing Kim Dan is consistently deprived of. (chapter 59) Whether it’s due to panic, malnutrition, exhaustion, or psychological collapse, suffocation is one of the defining sensations of Kim Dan’s arc. In this context, the landlord, with his unassuming fan and grounded demeanor, emerges as a breath of fresh air—the very opposite of the heiße Luft, or “hot air,” surrounding the champion’s fabricated scandals and media distortions. (chapter 52)

Under this perspective, the fan’s soft FLAP (chapter 66) becomes almost therapeutic. It doesn’t try to rescue Kim Dan like the champion does. It doesn’t dramatize. It simply cools. It shifts the air around a suffocating figure, making room for recovery. Thus I deduce that the fan is not only a symbol of time, but also of space—space to breathe, space to reflect. The landlord does not speak of the past or demand a future; he offers 365 days of presence, through silence and small gestures.

Wind Before the Storm

Striking is the relationship between the wind and the storm, and how this elemental dynamic deepens the landlord’s symbolic role. When Joo Jaekyung hears at the dock in Chapter 69 about the incident with the drunk man, (chapter 69) (chapter 69) the atmosphere grows heavier—not from external scandal, but from inner turmoil. Then Kim Dan’s puzzled reaction, (chapter 69) strikes like a gust. (chapter 69) The scene becomes emotionally charged, echoing classic storm symbolism: emotional intensity, uncertainty, and the prospect of sudden change.

Under this new light, I came to the following conclusion: what we witness is not chaos imposed by others, but a moment of crisis—of emotional confrontation and potential transformation. And yet, before this private storm could break, I observed that the landlord was quietly present. (chapter 69) He helped Kim Dan get dressed, leave the house, and carry groceries. He didn’t push him into the storm—he gave him the freedom to walk into it on his own terms.

That is the striking contrast. The storm represents the turning point, the fear of change, the weight of the past catching up. The landlord, as wind, offers the one thing Kim Dan lacked until now: air, movement, and choice. He doesn’t command. He prepares. He trusts. And in doing so, he gives Kim Dan room to decide—whether to run or stay, to speak or remain silent.

Following this exploration of wind and storm, I noticed another compelling pattern tied to sound and clarity. In the very panel where the champion realizes Kim Dan is safe (chapter 69) —his face filled with shock and disbelief—the Webtoonist added the sound effect “WHOOSH.” Under this new light, I interpreted this as more than background ambiance. It marks a pivotal turning point, as if the wind itself had cut through the fog in Joo Jaekyung’s mind, sweeping away his spiraling fear and clearing space for truth. This sudden shift in emotional atmosphere visually alters him too. Hence it is not surprising that he looks visibly younger. Not broken, but stripped of his burdens. As if the wind blew away the years of pressure, fears and rage.

Strikingly, this is not the first time the gust is heard. Earlier, when Kim Dan first spots the champion on the dock, the same onomatopoeia—“WHOOSH” (chapter 69) —carries the weight of their emotional storm! That very night, I noticed, both Kim Dan (chapter 69) and Joo Jaekyung experienced an emotional shift. The wind, though announcing the coming storm, swept through their minds and cleared away emotional fog. Thus, I deduced that the wind in these scenes becomes a narrative force of mental clarity, awakening, and emotional release. (chapter 69) While there is no sunlight or calm skies, it opened a path for both characters to see clearly. That’s how I realized that Kim Dan’s enlightenment was not recognition, but humility! His dawning awareness that he never truly knew the champion, captured poignantly in his question (chapter 69) and the visual emphasis on the punctuation mark in a separate panel. (chapter 69) This means that the moment the champion embraced him, the doctor must have sensed that the champion’s worries and care were genuine. (chapter 67) Doc Dan got finally his answer to this question. Joo JAekyung is more a man of action than of pretty words. So awakening and flourishing are not something that occurs behind glass or sealed doors. It is born in the open, amidst uncertainty and confrontation. And under this new light, I reached a final insight: growth in Jinx does not happen behind closed doors or sealed windows. It happens in the open, where storms rage and air can finally circulate. (chapter 59) The landlord doesn’t shelter people from pain or storms. He makes sure they’re equipped to face them. And once they do, the wind is no longer a threat, but a form of grace. And now, you comprehend why the death of the puppy has not been discovered by the athlete yet. For the landlord, death is something natural and inevitable, and since doc Dan has been working at the hospice, I am quite certain that the old man imagined that doc Dan was well-equipped to deal with this situation. He must have been envisaging that Doc Dan was accustomed to it. The problem is that he doesn’t know the protagonist’s past and family.

Furthermore, linking this moment back to the storm and grace works thematically: the same wind that opens hearts also shakes foundations. The landlord’s silence and discretion, typically virtues, can now be understood as both protective and fallible, making him even more human. His trust, while generous, risks overlooking the complex layers of grief that Kim Dan carries. What is seen as strength might actually mask deep vulnerability. In this light, the landlord’s role as wind is also a lesson in perception—he adapts, but cannot always see the storms others keep within.

A Man Without Judgment

In a world where Kim Dan has long been deprived of agency—where he’s been pushed, controlled, bought, and silenced—the landlord brings something revolutionary in its simplicity: freedom and care without pressure. His wind does not knock doors down. It opens windows.

Even after the incident with the drunk doctor takes place —when others might rush to assign blame or cast doc Dan as victim—the landlord remains silent. As Joo Jaekyung walks away into the night (chapter 69), no words of condemnation are spoken. Unlike Heesung (chapter 58), who plays the victim while hiding his own culpability, the landlord does not engage in gossip or vilification. His silence isn’t ignorance—it is grace. (chapter 52) He is the antithesis of the media’s “heiße Luft”—that German phrase meaning nothing but hot air. The landlord is not heat, not noise, but wind—cool, steady, and clear. He represents a rare truth in Jinx: the quiet man who watches, helps, and leaves judgment to the wind.

Standing Behind Kim Dan

And perhaps most strikingly, I deduced that it is this elemental quality—his alignment with air—that makes him essential to the story. He is not the hero, nor the villain. He is just a human, someone who opens the door after someone else unlocks it. He is the one who tells Kim Dan to give Boksoon her food (chapter 57), who lets her roam, who trusts without demanding. He is not a rescuer by force; he is a current that carries the exhausted to shore. Though he is disconnected from the social media (chapter 58) and from media (chapter 62) in general, he is actually the one who can connect to others the best. (chapter 58) No wonder why the actor asked doc Dan to greet the “old man”. (chapter 59) He felt so comfortable around him.

While others stir scandal or are obsessed with success and money, the landlord flaps a hand fan (chapter 66) and remains seated. Since he mentions it is the weekend, it is clear that he has no intention to work during the weekend. This explains why he is not wearing his usual green-and-white cap. This subtle detail reinforces his connection to nature’s rhythms—he is not a workaholic (chapter 57), but someone who understands the balance between labor and rest. He may not have a name, but he has a function. And sometimes, in storytelling, function is identity enough.

Because the old man was seen behind doc Dan’s back on the dock (chapter 69), I noticed a striking visual parallel in Kim Dan’s story: the recurring image of his back. (chapter 56) In Episode 56, we see him resting in front of the window. This moment suggests not only emotional vulnerability but also isolation. There is no one behind him, no one shielding him from the coldness of the world. Later, when he watches the sunset, disconnected from his senses, unable to hear the waves or feel the breeze, (chapter 59) there’s only one poor sun umbrella in front of him and a wall far behind him. His back is turned to the world, wrapped in solitude and silence. That’s how I was reminded of his childhood. There, the grandmother often stood beside him (chapter 47) (chapter 47) (chapter 65) but not behind. Thus the landlord’s placement (chapter 69) speaks of quiet support. It implies that the old man has his back now. He neither pushes nor pulls—he simply follows, allowing Kim Dan to move forward at his own pace.

The absence of a visual of someone positioned behind Kim Dan (chapter 49) explains why he got abandoned in the locker room. It gains even more poignancy when viewed against his past. In Episode 47, while the grandmother was carrying him on her back, Kim Dan’s back is left unprotected. (chapter 47) Her proximity is visible, yet it lacks the symbolic protection associated with standing at someone’s back.

A particularly revealing moment occurs when young Kim Dan cries after being bullied at school. (chapter 57) The grandmother embraces him and taps his back gently while saying, “You still have me.” At first glance, this gesture may seem supportive. Yet, under this new light, I came to the following conclusion: her touch is more reflexive than instinctive. It soothes, but it doesn’t protect. It calms, but it does not empower. It is not a shield—it is a silencer. Her physical gestures, though present, lacked the emotional resonance necessary to foster true security. This interpretation gets validated, when you include her second “action”: (chapter 57) The moment she offered him a snack, she distanced herself from him. Now, she is standing by his side.

That is why the photograph of young Kim Dan sitting on her lap is so striking. (chapter 65) It becomes the exception—the rare moment where she appears to have his back. But photographs can be deceptive. They capture posed perfection, not lived reality. And as we trace Kim Dan’s emotional journey, we begin to understand that this illusion of maternal protection was not enough to sustain him.

By contrast, both the landlord and the champion now represent figures of genuine, if imperfect, support. They don’t just stand behind him (chapter 61) —they give him the air, time, and space to grow. (chapter 62) Their presence—especially the landlord’s—is the embodiment of silent guardianship. (chapter 69) His consistent yet unobtrusive presence stands in opposition to the grandmother’s inconsistent gestures. One acted out care; the other lives it.

This distinction matters. It redefines what it means to have someone behind you—not merely as a backdrop, but as a source of strength. And this quiet, enduring presence is what finally begins to heal the fractures left behind by superficial affection.This moment echoes his childhood, marked by emotional distance and a lack of support, as seen in his memories with his grandmother. (chapter 19) (chapter 47) (chapter 47) (chapter 47) Despite the rare instance of closeness captured in a photo, most scenes depict Kim Dan standing next to his grandmother, and he is the one supporting her.

I came to the following conclusion: the emphasis on his back is not random. It is a visual metaphor for abandonment and vulnerability. Therefore it is no coincidence that in the yard, doc Dan got hurt on his back, when the champion threw him onto the ground. (chapter 69) This gesture, though seemingly violent, reveals something deeper—it forced Kim Dan to feel what he had been missing all along: there were people around him, he was not alone. I would even add, someone was finally standing behind him. (chapter 69) In that brief moment, Kim Dan is no longer alone. The landlord, as a silent guardian, and Joo Jaekyung, as a fierce protector, are both behind him—symbolically and literally. (chapter 69) They are not towering over him or walking ahead; they are there, at his back, where no one had ever stood before. And that, perhaps, is the quiet miracle of Jinx—a boy once starved of love and breath, now flanked by the wind and the storm. This signifies that when the storm will hit the western coast, the main lead will strangely feel safe and comfortable, because he has company by his side.

Wheelchair and Truck: A Study in Contrast

Under this light, I noticed another contrast forming between the landlord and the grandmother. On one hand, we have a man who drives his own truck (chapter 69), tends his yard, walks to the fields, shares his meal with his tenant and guides him without uttering huge demands. On the other, we see a woman who claims independence (chapter 56) (chapter 65) while seated in a wheelchair or lying in a hospital bed—entirely dependent on others to move her. Her self-image as a strong and autonomous elder clashes sharply with her visible reliance on those around her.

The landlord symbolizes mobility and quiet agency. His freedom lies not only in movement, but in his capacity to give space to others. By contrast, the grandmother is fixed in place (chapter 65), reliant on beds, wheels, and nurses to navigate the world. Under this new perspective, the wheelchair and the truck are no longer just modes of transportation—they are emblems of character. One rolls forward by another’s push, the other steers by its own will.

And what would happen if the storm did arrive? If shifts prevented hospice staff from returning? The illusion of her autonomy would crumble. While the landlord silently prepares for such contingencies, the grandmother clings to the fantasy that she needs no one. Storms reveal truths: who bends and adapts, and who remains trapped in the comfort of stillness, unprepared for change and misfortune. Since she has this beautiful memory of the ocean (chapter 53), I doubt that she anticipated the existence of dangers by living on the coast: storms and typhoons. So her beautiful town could get devastated, (chapter 65). Is it a coincidence that when she compliments the place, she is not listening to the wind and seeing the huge clouds in the sky? This stands in opposition to the silent landlord who is looking at the horizon turning his back to the little town: (chapter 69)

The Quiet Trinity

At the heart of this subtle narrative lies a trinity (chapter 69) —not loud or hierarchical, but quiet and balanced. The landlord, watchful and unobtrusive, takes on a godlike role: not in power, but in presence. Kim Dan, wounded and unsure, becomes the son figure seeking shelter and rediscovery. And Joo Jaekyung, long cast as the brute force or fallen star, now returns as a humbled spirit (chapter 69) —silent, alert, and transformed. Or we could say the reverse: Doc Dan becomes the dragon’s holly spirit (chapter 69), while the star becomes the son. This trio, for now, are merely neighbors. But with the storm approaching, I am expecting that their separation may dissolve, drawing them into shared space and daily life.

This potential cohabitation stands in stark contrast to the dysfunctional head of Team Black: (chapter 46) Coach Yosep, Joo Jaekyung, and Park Namwook—a trio marked by authority without dialogue, control without care. In that group, the manager sowed distrust while avoiding accountability. (chapter 46) In the new trio, no one holds dominion over the other. There are no contracts, no strings. The landlord has no financial stake in the fighter’s success. (chapter 61) Instead, he finds quiet satisfaction in their presence—a subtle joy in no longer eating alone, in hearing laughter in the yard, in offering a meal or a moment of guidance. His support is not selfless but unburdened by agendas. That’s precisely what makes his influence so restorative: his care is grounded, practical, and free of manipulation. However, as time passed on, the landlord discovered that by living close with the two young men, responsibilities couldn’t be avoided. Hence he is paying attention to Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan. (chapter 66) Accountability, once optional, became natural. Without ever declaring himself their guardian, the landlord started noticing their silences, their movements, and their needs. He began to look after them—not because he had to, but because living with them made indifference impossible.

Here, in the modest shelter of shared presence, a new pattern emerges: a household of silent support and mutual growth. No one commands, yet all are transforming. It is a trinity not of power, but of breath, where healing flows like the wind—unseen but deeply felt. The champion and the doctor are no longer steered by duty or burden. For the first time, they seem ready to let the wind carry them—not as a force of chaos, but as a guide toward something lighter, freer, and true, like the two sparrows. (chapter 66)

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: 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: Wheels 🛞 and Waves 🌊〰️- part 1

The title Wheels and Waves – part 1 captures the tension between confinement and freedom, vulnerability and strength, appearances and hidden truths. Finally, readers could see the grandmother leaving the hospice for a stroll. The irony is that she was not accompanied by her grandson or a caretaker, but by the champion himself. (chapter 65) At first glance, the grandmother’s wheelchair and the ocean seem to represent opposing forces, yet they also reveal a complex relationship between power and vulnerability. Thus in this analysis, I will explore how these elements, rather than simply contradicting each other, might actually reflect a struggle to find balance between dependency and independence.

The grandmother’s conversation with Joo Jaekyung by the ocean raises unsettling questions. Her gentle words suggest concern for Kim Dan’s future (chapter 65), yet her portrayal of him seems unexpectedly harsh—emphasizing his flaws (smoking, drinking). (chapter 65) This description stands in opposition to the gumiho’s statement: he was an angel. (chapter 30) It is because Kim Dan didn’t ask for money or recognition, this gesture was entirely selfless. Why would the lady badmouth the protagonist, when she requested from the champion that he brings the doctor back to Seoul? (chapter 65) Is she genuinely worried for him, or is there a hidden motive behind her request to send him back to Seoul? And why does Joo Jaekyung, usually so straightforward, respond with silence and hesitation (chapter 65) or with shock? (chapter 65)

Meanwhile, Kim Dan’s nocturnal walks seem to oppose the grandmother’s immobility. (chapter 65) His bare feet on the cold ground (chapter 65) suggest a longing for freedom, yet the direction of his steps remains uncertain. Whereas these walks reveal about his inner struggle, they don’t reveal the destination of his nightly strolls. Where was he going during that night? Was he going to the ocean—vast and untamed— like in episode 59, (chapter 65) or had his destination changed? These questions will be answered in the second part.

By examining the tension between appearances and reality, the contrast between confinement and escape, I hope to uncover the true nature of sacrifice and survival in the characters’ life. Wheels and Waves invites you to question what it really means to move forward—and at what cost. But let’s start with the interaction between Shin Okja and Joo Jaekyung.

The grandmother and the ocean

Between CREAK, STEP and TAP

First, it is important to realize that the champion was the one who chose the ocean as a destination. The nurse had only planned to walk around the hospice: (chapter 65) This destination reflects the athlete’s desire and mind-set. He likes this place because it is quiet. (chapter 62) From my perspective, the man has now internalized the beach to nature and privacy. Striking is the way Mingwa introduced the scenery. First, she focused on the wheel and Joo Jaekyung’s feet. (chapter 65) The contrast between the creaking wheels of the grandmother’s wheelchair and the steady steps of the champion immediately establishes the theme of control versus freedom. The wheelchair’s wheels represent civilization, immobility, passivity, and the grandmother’s obsession with control—over her own fate (chapter 65) and Kim Dan’s future. In contrast, Joo Jaekyung’s feet symbolize the potential for naturalness, movement and agency (chapter 65), emphasizing his ability to choose and act, even if he is currently unaware of the extent of the grandmother’s manipulation. I will explain further why I see the grandmother’s conversation as a deception. On the other hand, the rhythm of two steps per two creaks reflects how, despite his apparent strength and independence, the champion is unwittingly aligning himself with the grandmother’s pace and will. He is not realizing that he is actually slowing down, an indication that he will getting closer to rest for real this time. Note that he is no longer running and his steps are more “gentle”. We don’t have any TAP TAP TAP anymore, but STEP STEP.

The focus on the wheels and feet also serves as a prelude to the conflicting worldviews of the two characters. While the grandmother’s immobility reflects her fear of facing reality and her reliance on others to push her forward—both literally and metaphorically—Joo Jaekyung’s steps suggest a willingness not only to move forward, but also to impede. Little by little, he is getting closer to the ocean which means that he is about to confront the unknown represented by the ocean. Yet, the irony lies in the fact that despite his steady steps, the champion is the one being emotionally led by the grandmother’s words and direction.

Furthermore, the choice to highlight the wheels and steps before revealing the larger scenery suggests a gradual unveiling of the truth—both about the grandmother’s intentions and the emotional journey that awaits Joo Jaekyung.

“It’s a nice little town, isn’t it”

By choosing the ocean, Joo Jaekyung subconsciously aligns himself with nature, emotions, and freedom—the very things the grandmother seeks to avoid by emphasizing the beauty of the town. (chapter 65) His choice of destination foreshadows a deeper conflict between confinement and escape, between facing the truth and continuing to live under the illusion of control that the grandmother represents. Another relevant detail is the moment Shin Okja praises the town. Observe the position of her head. We don’t see her gaze because of her hat. But since the town is on the right, this signifies that she isn’t truly looking at the town. (chapter 65) In fact, she is just looking ahead of her. The “nice little town” is reduced to the pathway next to the beach. This observation exposes her narrow-mindedness. Because she is not truly admiring the place, I feel like she is praising the town more based on her childhood memories. This explains why she mentions her youth afterwards. Moreover, the fact that she employed the expression “isn’t it” with her description, reveals her tendency to lead the conversation. It was, as if she pushed the young man to agree to her claim. The irony is that she didn’t even wait for his reply. She explained why she was so fond of the place: her childhood memories. In her eyes, because her companion didn‘t spend his youth here, he can not connect to this town, overlooking that people can create new memories anywhere. Moreover, they are not obliged to live in the same town their whole life or to live where they spent their childhood. In other words, this frail lady has no real notion of time as such. I would even say, her gaze is not truly directed in the present or the future, she is rather obsessed with the past.

The grandmother and the beach

But let’s return our attention to this panel. (chapter 65) Here, the ocean dominates the frame, uncontained and powerful, suggesting that the control and order symbolized by civilization are ultimately limited. The receding wharf becomes a metaphor for the boundaries of this control, emphasizing that beyond a certain point, civilization’s reach falters in the face of nature’s raw power. This shift in focus—from the orderly path along the shore to the turbulent waves beyond— accentuates the futility of the grandmother’s obsession with control, medicine, and structured living. But there’s more to it. Mingwa added the onomatopoeia “Whoosh” in order to indicate the presence of wind. The latter is responsible for the “waves”. Funny is that the halmoni is not paying attention to it at all. We could say that the absence of comments about the ocean and wind divulges her blindness and deafness, and the falsehood of her “wish” expressed in the hospital. In addition, this image is announcing the way the conversation will take place. There won’t be any real exchange of thoughts and as such active listening from her part. She will lead the conversation.

This image contrasts so much to the scene with Kim Dan on the beach: (chapter 59) The contrast between these two images—one of the halmoni accompanied by Joo Jaekyung and the other of Kim Dan sitting alone by the ocean—exposes the stark difference in their emotional worlds and the dynamics of control and isolation that define their lives.

In the first image, (chapter 65) the halmoni’s presence with Joo Jaekyung creates an illusion of support and control. (chapter 65) The sunlight high in the sky bathes the scene in brightness, suggesting a façade of warmth and clarity. This lighting aligns with the halmoni’s belief that she can influence Kim Dan through the champion, using Joo Jaekyung as an intermediary to extend her authority. The fact that she is in a wheelchair, however, subtly contradicts this impression of power, revealing her true state of passivity and reliance on others to act on her behalf. The ocean, tamed by the pathway, symbolizes her attempt to domesticate nature— (chapter 65) just as she tries to domesticate Kim Dan’s emotions and decisions. At the same time, it exposes that the champion is still far away from his true self, but he is getting closer to become “reborn”.

In contrast, the second image of Kim Dan alone at sunset paints a completely different picture. (chapter 59) Here, the setting sun hints at the end of the halmoni’s control over his life, casting a melancholic glow that embodies both the beauty and isolation of freedom. Unlike Shin Okja, doc Dan faces the ocean directly, unprotected by railings or pathways, exposing his vulnerability and willingness to confront the unknown—his emotions, his trauma, and his desire for escape. The absence of others highlights his profound loneliness, a loneliness that even the vastness of the ocean cannot fill but seems to reflect. The parasol, standing solitary like Kim Dan, reinforces the sense of isolation amidst an open space. On the other hand, the walk with the grandmother exposes the superficiality of the champion’s connections. He might know many people, but they aren’t his friends or family.

The sound effects further emphasize this dichotomy. The “whoosh” accompanying the halmoni and Joo Jaekyung suggests the wind—a natural element that moves freely despite the artificial path, subtly mocking the halmoni’s illusion of control. Meanwhile, the “shaa” with Kim Dan reflects the waves, raw and untamed, symbolizing the overpowering emotions he battles alone.

Joo Jaekyung’s perception of the halmoni’s influence over Kim Dan is thus an illusion: (chapter 65) the same illusion that the high sun implies. The latter can not shine if there are clouds. (chapter 65) My avid readers know that the latter usually stand for danger. Thus I come to the following deduction: the clouds represent the doctor’s untreated wounds. The champion’s assumption that the halmoni can sway Kim Dan is a misunderstanding of the true nature of Kim Dan’s struggles. While Joo Jaekyung might see the halmoni’s appeals as genuine, I don’t think, he grasped entirely that her words are merely another form of control, one that Kim Dan subconsciously rejects as he continues to seek solace by the ocean, far from the halmoni’s reach. (chapter 59)

In essence, the halmoni’s daytime stroll represents a false clarity and a temporary illusion of control, while Kim Dan’s solitary sunset confrontation with the ocean was foreshadowing a breaking point—an inevitable dusk for the halmoni’s authority and a prelude to a night where Kim Dan chose escape and freedom but at his own life expense.

Another important detail is the way she initiated the conversation. It was about this pretty community and not her grandson. Why? (chapter 65) It is because she is trying to incite the athlete to return to Seoul. He doesn’t belong here. Her statement, “This is where I grew up. But you’re from Seoul, so you probably don’t see what the fuss is about,” dismisses Joo Jaekyung as an outsider while subtly reasserting her authority. Yes, she is using the same MO than with Kim Dan. (chapter 57) By telling him that he had no ties here, she effectively erased their shared past and portraying him as a stranger in the very place she calls home. Thus I deduce that she is aware that she is racing against time. The longer the athlete stays in that place, the lower are the chances that her grandson will leave this town. She has to ensure that Joo Jaekyung doesn’t feel like settling here. I don’t think, she heard about the athlete’s involvement in the little town, for her only source of information comes from the staff (chapter 65) and the residents from the hospice. She has no connection to the town chief and other inhabitants. This exposes how small her world is and little her knowledge is. However, her ignorance doesn’t make her an innocent “lady”, quite the opposite. – Don’t get me wrong, I don’t see her as a malicious person, just as a selfish person suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome.

Let me give you an example. (chapter 65) Here, she claims that she only knows about the sportsman’s job thanks to the patient next door. However, she is lying, because she watched his match in the States. (chapter 41) The irony is that she is not realizing that she is showing her true colors. (chapter 21) In episode 21, the halmoni’s description of the champion as a “good friend” was, in hindsight, a superficial and self-serving characterization. At that time, she likely saw Joo Jaekyung as someone who could be beneficial for Kim Dan’s financial situation without truly caring about who he was as a person. Her interest in him was more about what he represented—a source of money and stability—rather than any genuine appreciation of his character or the impact of his presence in Kim Dan’s life. Thus she said this in front of the ocean: (chapter 65) If he was a good friend, then why didn’t she show more interest in him before? It is because she needs him now. Yes, this woman is a good-weather friend in the end. The term “good-weather friend” refers to someone who shows interest, support, or kindness only when it is convenient for them or when they stand to gain something. Hence she goes outside, when the sun shines. This perfectly encapsulates the grandmother’s attitude towards Joo Jaekyung. But it is the same with the champion. He only visited her, (chapter 61) when he thought, he needed her assistance. He used her to appear as a friend. (chapter 61) Yes, the conversation at the beach played an important role, for Shin Okja’s behavior serves as a distorted mirror to Joo Jaekyung’s actions and mindset, exposing the flaws and contradictions in both. When she voiced this wish (chapter 65), she exposed her belief: money and big hospital are the symbol for care. That’s exactly what the champion had done in the past.

In episode 22, when Joo Jaekyung paid the bills for the halmoni, (chapter 22) he acted out of a simplistic view of good deeds—believing that financial support alone could resolve problems and fulfill his moral obligations. His subsequent failure to visit her again reflects his tendency to distance himself emotionally once he has performed what he sees as his duty. This is reminiscent of his behavior towards Kim Dan: helping him materially but avoiding deeper emotional involvement or responsibility.

Shin Okja’s current behavior mirrors this mindset but in a more manipulative and self-serving manner. Her sudden interest in Joo Jaekyung now that she needs him exposes how she, too, equates support with utility rather than genuine care. She projects a generous and sacrificial image (chapter 65), much like how Joo Jaekyung likely saw himself when paying her bills—believing that fulfilling a material need is equivalent to showing genuine concern. Park Namwook is a representative of this mind-set too.

  1. Transactional Attitude vs. Emotional Avoidance:
    • Shin Okja’s willingness to praise Joo Jaekyung now that she needs him mirrors how the sportsman’s sense of duty stops at financial aid without further emotional involvement. (chapter 45) Both characters avoid deeper emotional connections, opting instead for transactional solutions—she with her manipulations and he with his money.
  2. Superficial Care:
    • Just as the star’s one-time payment was a way to offload guilt without genuine interaction, Shin Okja’s praise (chapter 65) is a way to offload responsibility for doc Dan while maintaining an image of concern. Both display a form of care that lacks true depth.
  3. Avoidance of Accountability:
    • Shin Okja’s deflection of her failures as a guardian (chapter 65) reflects Joo Jaekyung’s reluctance to confront the emotional and mental consequences of the star towards Kim Dan. Besides, Jinx-lovers should keep in their mind that the champion is the owner of the gym. The incident with the switched spray was swept under the rug, just like the drugged beverage. Everyone involved acts, as if nothing had happened or by saying that the doctor was innocent, the witnesses believe that the damages has been repaired. (chapter 62) Both avoid the emotional accountability that comes with their actions, preferring to distance themselves once a material obligation (debts)(chapter 60) is fulfilled.
  4. Perception vs. Reality:
    • The fact that Joo Jaekyung thought he had done a good deed by paying the bills contrasts sharply with Shin Okja’s sudden friendliness, (chapter 65) which is merely a cover for her self-serving motives. This contrast highlights the theme of perception versus reality: both characters’ actions appear kind on the surface but conceal underlying self-interest or emotional avoidance. Yet, there is a difference between them. The champion had sacrificed his time for the doctor, he made sure to keep the elderly woman company so that Kim Dan could rest. Moreover, he had made her happy, that’s the reason why doc Dan was so grateful. (chapter 22)

In this sense, the halmoni serves as a mirror reflecting the champion’s own flaws back at him—his tendency to equate care with material support and his discomfort with emotional intimacy. The paradox here is that while Joo Jaekyung might see the halmoni’s behavior as genuine concern, it is actually a reflection of his own transactional approach to relationships. Recognizing this mirror might be a crucial part of his redemption arc, forcing him to confront the superficiality of his past actions and understand the difference between real care and transactional gestures. However, it is relevant to recall that the star’s past behavior was nurtured by his own surroundings. MFC and the members from Team Black also treated him as a tool for success and money.

So, the mirroring aspect adds a deeper layer to the conflict between civilization (control and superficial care) and nature (authentic emotions and freedom), reinforcing the idea that Joo Jaekyung must break away from this mindset, if he is to truly connect with Kim Dan.

One might think that they are both shallow and selfish. Yet, there exists a huge difference between them. Joo Jaekyung embodies action and he is now embracing changes. Thus he is willing to do anything to improve their relationship, whereas the grandmother is just waiting at the hospice for the “right time” and the “right person”. She is just reacting to an uncomfortable situation than becoming proactive like the champion. She sees the decline of her grandson’s health, but she is reducing it to insomnia which can be treated with pills and a stay at an expensive hospital. (chapter 65) She is not mentioning his loss of weight on the beach contrary to her comment at the hospice. (chapter 57) This displays that she is not entirely honest. She is not reaching out to Kim Dan in the end. Her excuse is that he refused to see a doctor(chapter 65), but so far we never saw her making such a suggestion. It is possible that she jumped to this conclusion because she heard about this incident: (chapter 60) If my assumption is correct, the woman didn’t realize that this rejection was linked to Joo Jaekyung’s intervention. So if she had talked to her grandchild himself, she could have had an impact… But they are actually avoiding each other. One thing is sure: the absence of communication and avoidance between these two family members reinforced the doctor’s suffering. Imagine the consequences of her request: she is preferring locking him up in a hospital receiving drugs than giving what doc Dan has been longing: warmth, love and a home.

Another contradiction is that while she praised the “little town” in the beginning, she was looking down at this place, when she said: (chapter 65) It was, as if she was insulting the hospice where she is staying and as such the staff (which included Kim Dan).

The problem is that the grandmother has long forgotten this day, (chapter 65) where both were happily smiling. The picture is the evidence that she could make Kim Dan smile despite their poverty. Moreover, it is important to recall that she introduced Kim Dan as an orphan from birth: (chapter 65) According to my hypothesis, this image (chapter 19) is linked to the doctor’s abandonment and betrayal. I have to admit that her attitude and words reminded me a lot of the director Choi Gilseok’s offer. (chapter 48). Both the halmoni and Choi Gilseok embody betrayal and the theme of acting behind the back (chapter 48), weaving a web of deception under the guise of care and concern. The halmoni’s betrayal is subtle but profound—she presents herself as a self-sacrificing guardian, but her true motives are revealed through her willingness to entrust Kim Dan to Joo Jaekyung without genuinely considering his well-being. Her criticisms of Kim Dan’s habits, her attempts to send him back to Seoul, and her selective truths paint a picture of a woman more interested in relieving herself of a burden than providing real support. Her actions behind Kim Dan’s back—discussing him negatively with Joo Jaekyung—further emphasize her betrayal, showing a willingness to manipulate perceptions for her own convenience.

Similarly, Choi Gilseok’s offers of lodging, financial help (chapter 48) and superior medical care (chapter 48) mask a deeper betrayal. His real aim was never to assist but to control, using offers of support as bait to tie Kim Dan into a powerless position. The parallel between his proposition to Kim Dan—promising a better life in exchange for leaking information and compliance—and the halmoni’s push for Seoul’s hospitals underlines their shared strategy: make the target believe they have a choice, while the outcome is already decided. The fact that Heo Manwook, who collects Kim Dan’s debts, called Choi Gilseok “hyung” further hints at a deeper conspiracy, suggesting that the offer might have been a tool to ensnare Kim Dan from the start. He would have committed a crime (illegal drugs).

Both characters act behind the scenes, manipulating others to achieve their goals while maintaining an outward appearance of concern. This duplicity can only deepen the sense of betrayal felt by Kim Dan, whose struggle for freedom becomes not just a battle against overt control but also against the subtle, insidious influence of those who pretend to care. Moreover, she broke her promise, but chose to walk to the ocean with the star. It was, as if the grandmother had been ashamed of her own grandson. The halmoni’s and Choi Gilseok’s actions reveal the painful truth that sometimes, the worst betrayals come from those who claim to love and protect. I made this connection for another reason. The director of the gym is actually the one behind the debts and loan. I doubt that Shin Okja would have trusted Heo Manwook for example. It is important, because the loan is the reason why the champion became a target of schemes. But since the doctor refused to abandon his lover, I am convinced that the champion won’t follow Shin Okja’s suggestion.

Moreover, contrary to the grandmother, the star wants the doctor to agree on his own accord. (chapter 62) That’s the reason why he was seeking the grandmother’s support. He was hoping that she could influence him. But what he hears, shocks him: (chapter 65) She desires the same as him, but she is in the same position than him. She is powerless in front of the doctor’s will. It looks like this walk to the ocean was pointless for the champion. However, it is not true, as the athlete got to see a glimpse of the verity in front of the ocean. He is surprised by this request, because unconsciously he senses it as a “betrayal” and “abandonment”. And keep in mind that the ocean represents freedom, the unconscious mind, emotions, death, and the unknown. The wolf was encouraged to perceive the falsehood of his past believes. Moreover, he was incited to question his own past behavior.

Striking is the way both were placed on the beach. (chapter 65) Though they are next to each other, they are not sitting together. The wheelchair represents the invisible barrier between them. This scene contrasts with the conversation in the penthouse. And what had the athlete done during that night? He had not only shared his thoughts and issues to doc Dan, but he had asked for his wish and opinion. (chapter 29) He had even advised to think of himself first. As you can see, the fact that the two characters were just sitting next to each other reinforces my previous interpretation about the conversation. The grandmother was the one who had been leading the conversation, there is no real exchange of thoughts. In episode 29, the champion refused to accept the doctor’s help and suggestion. That’s the reason why I am more than ever convinced that the star won’t listen to the grandmother.

In other words, she was acting like in the past. How so? (chapter 53) She was asking for a favor again, but this time, she was begging for someone else’s generosity. No wonder why she said that she was still the same! (chapter 65) 😉 And what is her MO? She uses pity and vulnerability to her advantage. Since she is so old and weak, she can not do much for her grandson. In other words, she is showing to the celebrity that vulnerability can be a source of strength, that’s how she could turn her grandson into an obedient puppy. However, this can only work, as long as the “target” is listening to his heart and has not developed his own identity and strength. The wheelchair is the symbol for her powerlessness and passivity. Hence she needs the involvement of a third person. The twist is that her wheelchair is the evidence of her dishonesty. How so? She could go to the beach (chapter 53) and watch the ocean with her grandson (chapter 53), but they never did it. Why? One might respond that she refused to do it. (chapter 57) But it is only partially correct. The doctor only suggested this walk to the ocean much later, when he was already suffering emotionally. This means that the grandmother would have not been able to enjoy this walk. Yes, the timing played a huge role. In fact, she confessed her crime to the star: (chapter 53) She never had any intention to spend some time with him. Notice the personal pronoun “we” vanished. It is only about her request: “I wanted to see the ocean”. This means that at the hospital, she never had any intention to keep Kim Dan by her side. She employed the “with you, we” in order to achieve her goal. She acted, as if they were a family. She used her illness for her own advantage. In my opinion, her request was an excuse to avoid to return to the old broken home. For her, home is a place and not a person. Therefore she couldn’t love Kim Dan properly. Her “I’m so sorry” was actually fake. She had only thought of herself… She never thought of her grandson’s future at all. This observation corroborates my previous statement: she is unable to plan for the future. What only matters to her is the past or the present. Why? It is because she doesn’t want to be plagued by remorse or regrets. And now, she is doing it again with the champion. Using emotions and fragility for her own benefits. The paradox is that this is something Joo Jaekyung has always feared his whole life. Nonetheless, he doesn’t react so violently like in the past: rejection or outburst. One might say the reason is that she is weak and terminally ill. (chapter 65) However, I believe that her words reached the champion’s third eye. The latter was not focusing on the grandmother, but on his fated companion. He was trying to understand why he had changed. This question was already on his mind before: (chapter 62) And notice that the words from the grandmother (chapter 65) in front of the water reflects the champion’s intentions: (chapter 62) Once he has achieved his goal (reclaim his champion title), they will depart from each other. He would treat the doctor the same way than the grandmother! No wonder why doc Dan is getting angry and rejecting the offers from his destined partner. IT is only about his own selfish desires and not about doc Dan’s future and desires. Both have a similar mind-set: they don’t know what doc Dan plans to do with his life and the future…. And it shows that Joo Jaekyung was imitating the grandmother, though this suggestion was born from the following thought. Since Doc Dan was no reluctant to work for him, he imagined that maybe he would still accept to work for him for a limited time. But that’s not what Kim Dan is looking. He is longing for a home and at the same time for freedom.

On the other hand, though Shin Okja tried to use the same MO with the celebrity, it is clear that she is destined to fail. Let’s not forget that his private conversation took place outside, in front of the ocean, and the latter represents reflection and unconscious. Hence Joo Jaekyung voiced his hesitation constantly: (chapter 65) (chapter 65) The points of suspension are indicating that he is meditating on her words and suggestions. This stands in opposition to his past behavior where he got manipulated so easily. (chapter 36) The reason for this huge metamorphosis is that because of the lavender-tinted night, he learned to control his emotions. (chapter 65) He was forced to admit that he needed the “hamster”. He knew that if he reacted on these negative emotions, doc Dan would have another reason to put the blame on him. Consequently, his goal would be much further away. Secondly, though the conversation was private, their encounter was far from secretive. Both were visible, as it took place during the day. This means that the grandmother’s words in front of the ocean symbolize that they are in the open. (chapter 65) So they should reach the doctor’s ears. And this observation leads me to my next connection, the grandmother’s deceptions.

Shin Okja’s lies

What caught my attention is this image combined with the grandmother’s claim (chapter 65) According to her, Kim Dan has never introduced her to any of his friends. The celebrity would be the exception! But she is lying here. How so? Joo Jaekyung introduced himself to her on his own. It is because he answered a call from the nurse. (chapter 21) It happened behind doc Dan’s back in the end. The latter was sick, but the old lady didn’t seem concerned. The second lie is this statement which is exposed with the memory: (chapter 65) The panel depicting the halmoni holding an infant Kim Dan offers a complex portrayal of her character—one that blends guilt, self-victimization, and manipulation. Her downcast eyes and the way she cradles the child suggest a mix of regret and weariness, but this expression lacks the warmth expected of a caring guardian. She is not smiling, only feeling pity for the “poor child”. Instead, the scene gives off a performative air, as if she is convincing herself (and, by extension, Joo Jaekyung) that she was indeed a dedicated guardian who did her best. The dark, muted background only deepens this impression, isolating her and the child in a way that hints at unresolved guilt and a lack of genuine affection.

Her words, “I tried my best to raise him, but it was never enough,” carry a double meaning. On one hand, they paint her as a martyr who struggled valiantly despite overwhelming odds. On the other, they imply a subtle judgment of Kim Dan, as if his troubles were a reflection of his own failings (greed) rather than a result of her negligence. The emphasis on “never enough” shifts the focus from Kim Dan’s suffering to her own perceived sacrifices, turning the conversation away from her shortcomings and towards her self-proclaimed burden. This choice of words aligns with her tendency to externalize blame, presenting herself as a victim of circumstances rather than acknowledging her role in Kim Dan’s suffering.

The portrayal of Kim Dan as an infant rather than as the grown man he is now exposes a deeper layer of control. By framing the memory this way, the halmoni preserves her position as the ultimate decision-maker in his life, reinforcing the notion that he is incapable of making his own choices. This imagery ties directly into the theme of Peter Pan Syndrome—the idea that Kim Dan, in her eyes, is perpetually a child who must be protected and guided, even if this means denying him the agency to confront his past and shape his own future. However, this is just a projection of herself. This infantilization serves her interests by keeping him emotionally dependent and by masking her own failings as a guardian.

Moreover, the halmoni’s repeated use of the word “never” (chapter 65) (chapter 65) (chapter 65) is not a mere slip of the tongue but a deliberate linguistic tool to control the narrative. In this context, “never enough” serves a dual purpose: it downplays her own responsibility while subtly casting Kim Dan as a source of endless trouble and dissatisfaction. This manipulation of language highlights a broader pattern in her behavior—her use of selective truths to paint herself as a victim of fate, rather than a participant in the decisions that led to Kim Dan’s suffering. Her words echo the myth she has carefully constructed of herself as the sacrificing grandmother who did everything she could, even as the dark atmosphere of the panel suggests otherwise.

The dark background, devoid of warmth or light, not only isolates the halmoni and Kim Dan but also symbolizes her repressed guilt and closed-off perspective. By presenting herself as the victim of an ungrateful or inherently troubled child (chapter 65), she avoids confronting the real roots of Kim Dan’s suffering—such as the bullying, the debts, and the truth about his parents. For her, it would have been better if he had been raised by his parents. This is what she implied: she could never replace them. (chapter 65) It is important because it exposes her traditional mind-set overlooking that certain parents are unfit guardians. Secondly, with her own words, she legitimated the kids’ bullying. This explicates why she didn’t intervene in the end. What I had interpreted in the past was confirmed in this episode. She represents civilization and as such social norms. Therefore she is a representative of herd mentality. She accepted the kids’ bullying as truth which led to Kim Dan’s isolation. And now, you comprehend why she is not mentioning the harassment from the past. (chapter 65) Here, note that the little boy is wearing the same clothes than in the doctor’s nightmare. (chapter 57) She claims her ignorance why the little boy acted like an adult at such a young age. The reality is that she hasn’t forgotten the incident at all. This explicates why she confessed this to the “wolf”: (chapter 65) And who is to blame for her seclusion? Kim Dan who refused to introduce her to his friends. The irony is that Kim Dan mentioned her to the actor Choi Heesung, (chapter 30) a sign that she was never a source of embarrassment for him. (chapter 65) The truth is that she wanted him to mature quickly so that he could take her burden. (chapter 47) Her refusal to address these deeper issues reveals that her sacrifices were less about genuine care and more about maintaining her self-image as a righteous guardian. (chapter 65) The absence of any visible light or open space in the panel reinforces the idea that her perspective is narrow, unwilling to confront the broader context of Kim Dan’s pain and isolation.

In essence, this panel illustrates how the halmoni’s portrayal of herself as a sacrificing guardian is a carefully crafted narrative. Her use of language, the infantilization of Kim Dan, and the dark visual elements all work together to expose the underlying hypocrisy of her actions. She is not seeing Kim Dan as a man in the end (“sweet boy”). By framing herself as a victim of circumstances, she manages to absolve herself of guilt while keeping Kim Dan emotionally trapped in a narrative of helplessness and dependency. Far from being a scene of genuine regret or love, this moment reveals the true nature of her sacrifices—self-serving acts designed to control the narrative and shift the blame away from her own failures. That’s the reason why she is not bringing up the debts either. Under this light, you comprehend why she portrays Kim Dan in such a negative light: he is a drinker and smoker. (chapter 65) It is because of his personality: he was an orphan and had no real parents to guide him properly. Hence he didn’t listen to her nagging. The irony is that readers never saw her showing concerns about his drinking or smoking habits before. For me, it exposes her passivity and accountability. And what is her MO? She uses the past to justify her request. But the past is no longer valid, for the doctor has grown up. He is no longer smoking for example. She can only use the past, because she stopped living with him. Hence she has no idea how and where he is living right now. She is overlooking that she could have done something: refuse to let him carry the bags or take his hand (chapter 65), talk to him properly and listen to him. But she did not, she used food as a diversion. Walk silently by his side… Like expressed before, this senior stands for secrecy, shame and taboo.

As long as Kim Dan was working and paying off the debts, everything was fine. But now, she is noticing that he is showing signs of illness, but she doesn’t want to feel accountable for that. But there is more to it. In my eyes, Shin Okja never trusted the main lead. It is because of her own lies. She had told him, if he kept working, he would be able to pay off the debts. (chapter 18) What caught my attention in her revelation is her lack of enthusiasm for her own grandson. (chapter 65) “Is he that good?” exposes a lack of faith in her grandchild, a remark which caught the athlete by surprise. For me, he unconsciously sensed this negative aspect. (chapter 65) While this image is actually humorous, the grandmother’s words don’t match her body language. She is not showing any joy or smile. Therefore I comprehend why Kim Dan was so hurt by the champion’s behavior: (chapter 51), the absence of trust because of MONEY! She knew, he was drinking and smoking. Yet according to her, she couldn’t stop him, as she was powerless. He wouldn’t listen to her nagging. But here is the thing. She never asked him why he would act this way. Drinking and smoking were the only things he could allow himself as “fun and diversion”. In her long confession, she is diverting the attention from the causes for this rebellious behavior. Indirectly, she is portraying him as a stubborn boy who can not live on his own. In reality, she is just projecting her own desires and thoughts onto her grandson. For her, the city stands for wealth, fame, success and power. (chapter 65) I am suspecting that deep down, she wants him to shine for her own peace of mind. (chapter 41) Don’t forget that she has been living through him. But Seoul is related to Kim Dan’s suffering: the debts, sexual assault, violence from the loan sharks, the bullying, ,, his “failures” (prostitution, the switched spray), mockery and rejection. So he has nothing there that would draw him back to the city so far. On the other hand, her words imply that the doctor can not lead a good life here (chapter 65), as if there was nothing good in this place. So is this little town nice or not? She is looking down on that place, though she doesn’t realize it.

Captain Hook and his t-shirt

Since the grandmother is suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome, it becomes clear that she views Kim Dan as a lost boy. But she considers the athlete the same way: (chapter 65) Observe that she employed the expression “almost” here. This idiom is even recurrent in her vocabulary (chapter 65) and it is not anodyne. It symbolizes her conditional love and support. That’s why the athlete is almost a grandson. The paradox is that the champion embodies adulthood and as such Captain Hook. That’s why he was racing against time in season 1. Hence he is responsible for the grandmother’s deteriorating health, as the expensive treatment was more an experiment. But here is the thing. Notice what the young man is wearing. (chapter 65) The T-shirt that Joo Jaekyung wears, emblazoned with the words “Peek a Boo” in a spiral pattern, is far from a random detail. Its presence in the scene with the halmoni adds a layer of irony and serves as a visual metaphor for the nature of deception and hidden truths. The game Peek a Boo is typically associated with infants— a playful way for parents to teach children about object permanence, the idea that things continue to exist even when they are out of sight. However, in the context of this scene, it takes on a darker significance, highlighting how the halmoni manipulates what is seen and unseen to maintain control over Kim Dan’s life and, now, over Joo Jaekyung’s perception of the situation.

The spiral arrangement of “Peek a Boo” mirrors the cyclical nature of the grandmother’s manipulation tactics. Much like the game itself, where the face reappears only to disappear again, the halmoni presents selective truths, allowing glimpses of her vulnerability and supposed selflessness while concealing the deeper reality of her motives. This back-and-forth between what is shown (chapter 65) and what is hidden keeps Joo Jaekyung—and even Kim Dan—in a state of uncertainty and guilt, making it difficult for them to see through her facade. The spiral could also represent a descent into deeper layers of deceit and emotional entanglement, suggesting that the more Joo Jaekyung becomes involved, the harder it will be to hide the truth.

On a symbolic level, Peek a Boo ties directly to the halmoni’s treatment of Kim Dan. As a child, Kim Dan was deprived of a real parental figure who could engage with him honestly and lovingly. When he talked the first time, she didn’t reply or smile. His words were met with silence. That’s how he created a negative perception of himself. The halmoni’s refusal to play simple games like Peek a Boo—games that help children develop a sense of identity and emotional security—suggests that Kim Dan’s early emotional needs were systematically neglected. The memories are revealing her passivity and negative thoughts. This absence of genuine interaction is paralleled by her current behavior: her reluctance to openly discuss his past, the bullying, and the truth about his parents. By avoiding such confrontations, she has effectively kept Kim Dan in a state of perpetual insecurity and self-doubt, much like a child who has not yet grasped the concept of object permanence.

Moreover, the game Peek a Boo also involves a degree of deception—the face that disappears and reappears, creating a mix of surprise and relief. This aligns with how the halmoni reveals just enough of the truth to seem trustworthy, while keeping the more damaging parts hidden. Her feigned helplessness and the way she strategically reveals information to Joo Jaekyung—such as her portrayal of Kim Dan’s drinking and smoking habits—are part of a calculated act to elicit sympathy and compliance. By making Kim Dan appear troubled and unreliable, she diverts attention from her own failures as a guardian. Her trust is conditional: (chapter 65) She wants him to follow her request. So what will she do, if he refuses? Moreover, she doesn’t know that the athlete has already created connections with the local inhabitants. The landlord and neighbor has an interest to keep these two young men in that place: he feels less lonely. (chapter 61) Finally, it is important that the athlete never agreed to her “demand” or suggestion. (chapter 65)

Ironically, Joo Jaekyung’s naive acceptance of her words shows that he, too, is caught in this game of Peek a Boo. He believes that by getting through to the halmoni, he can reach Kim Dan’s true feelings, not realizing that the halmoni is using this access to manipulate both of them. The T-shirt becomes a bitter reminder of the gap between appearances and reality—how the champion’s straightforwardness is no match for the halmoni’s subtle control of the narrative.

In essence, the Peek a Boo T-shirt encapsulates the main themes of deception, control, and the struggle to see past appearances. It reflects how the halmoni’s manipulations are not merely a means of survival but a way to maintain her dominance over both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. Just as in the game, the truth is never fully revealed—only glimpsed in fleeting moments, distorted and reshaped to serve her ends.

Conclusion

This selective blindness extends to her treatment of Kim Dan. She speaks of his smoking and drinking habits with a judgmental tone, implying that his actions are signs of moral failure rather than coping mechanisms for his trauma. Her refusal to address the bullying incident—a pivotal moment in Kim Dan’s life—is part of this broader pattern of denial. If she cannot acknowledge the cause of his suffering, she can continue to frame herself as the sacrificing guardian who did her best. This evasion is also evident in her avoidance of the ocean, a symbol of emotions, danger, and the freedom that she refuses to confront. That’s why her request is doomed to fail. But there is another reason why Shin Okja’s favor won’t be fulfilled. (chapter 65) It is because she doesn’t care about the champion’s mental and emotional well-being. By making such a request, she is pushing him to return to work and as such disregard his mental and emotional issues. Just like Kim Dan, the wolf needs vacancy and rest. He needs to enjoy the present and make good memories so that he can finally sleep properly. Nevertheless, I do see a small change in her, because for the first time, she asked for someone else’s help. Moreover, she is mentioning her death (chapter 65), a sign that she is gradually accepting her mortality. On the other hand, her statement “I’ll go, when my time comes” is linking walk with death, But here, she is not walking, she is using the wheelchair! This means that as long as she is not walking, she won’t die. It is her effort to push away the inevitable. She is giving the impression that she has control over her life, but deep down, she knows that she is powerless. Therefore I perceive her final words as a deception as well. But there’s more to it. The fact that she is expressing her fear that her grandson might die before her is exposing her fear of responsibility. I would even say, her words imply that she has already witnessed the suicidal tendencies of a person in the past (that would be the parent). That’s why she suggested to the owner of Team Black to send him to a huge hospital and drugs (confinement).

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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: Prison Of Glass 🪟, Key 🔑 Of Time ⏲️

Time has always been a subtle but powerful force in Jinx, shaping the actions and mindsets of its characters in ways that they themselves barely perceive. In season 1, I had compared Kim Dan to Sleeping Beauty (chapter 13), who had been awakened by the champion, though contrary to the fairy tale, this arising was associated with pain. [For more read the analysis Painful awakening of Sleeping Beauty🤼‍♂️💕] What caught my attention is that in season 2 Joo Jaekyung was still himself trapped in temporal stasis too. (chapter 60) But how did they ended up both cursed by the same spell? The reason is simple. They were either halted by guilt and self-loathing or distorted by the desperate need to escape a traumatic past. Yet, amidst this stasis, small cracks are beginning to appear, suggesting that the flow of time cannot be denied forever. The past can not be repeated (chapter 64) or become the present or future. At the heart of this struggle lie symbols of doors, windows, and reflections—metaphors for how both characters perceive their realities and their chances of breaking free.

Interestingly, while Kim Dan became aware of the passage of time in Season 1 (chapter 44), he still does not fully include himself in this awareness. His concern was limited to his grandmother’s limited time (chapter 59), reflecting his selfless role as a caregiver. As someone who has long allowed others to define his time—whether as a physical therapist or as a prostitute—Kim Dan has yet to acknowledge his own mortality. Even during the lavender-tinted night, while he determined the length (chapter 64) and nature of the encounter (chapter 62), he did so for the sake of debts, not for himself. (chapter 64) The recent death of the puppy serves as a stark reminder (chapter 59) that he is not exempt from time’s reach, that he too is aging and vulnerable. But the doctor failed to recognize this warning. He only viewed it as a sign of his own powerlessness, reducing it from his own perception. He overlooked the fragility of life as such.

Meanwhile, Joo Jaekyung’s struggle is equally profound. By meditating before an expansive window (chapter 35), he created an illusion of freedom that only masked his deeper confinement—his glass prison. When Kim Dan closed the door and left (chapter 64), the illusion shattered, revealing the reality of his loneliness. The jinx, (chapter 55) once confined to the bedroom, now permeates his entire life, binding him to a past shaped by his abuser’s cruel words.

The Window: Illusions of Freedom

Joo Jaekyung’s habit of meditating in front of the window in his penthouse seemed, at first glance, like an attempt to find peace. (chapter 55) The view created an illusion of openness and freedom, masking the reality of his confinement. Glass, by its very nature, is transparent—a barrier that is invisible yet unbreakable, creating a false sense of freedom. The window’s clarity hid the fact that it was, in truth, an impassable wall that confined him, turning the promise of escape into a cruel irony. By focusing on the horizon, he could avoid looking inward, denying the unresolved trauma left by his anonymous abuser. (chapter 54) The ghost’s words,  (chapter 54) were designed to create the illusion of eternity—as if time itself was under the phantom’s control. This assertion not only sought to freeze Joo Jaekyung in a perpetual state of inadequacy but also to distort his perception of change as impossible. Trapped in a cycle of hatred and self-loathing, the athlete’s vision of freedom was limited to the false infinity of the horizon. (chapter 53) And now, you comprehend why the champion chose not to look for Kim Dan after his departure. He was so close to the window, making him think that he had a “choice”. That’s how I realized that the closer he would stand to the window, the less he would get Enlightenment. Hence he is portrayed eyeless here. (chapter 53) Ironically, the window—symbol of escape—became his glass prison, a barrier that reflected the endlessness of his struggle rather than a path to liberation.

In contrast, Kim Dan faced a broken, opaque window in his grandmother’s home (chapter 19) —a window that offered no view of the outside world. This reflected his entrapment in a life defined by guilt and sacrifice, unable to envision a future beyond repaying debts and fulfilling duties. The window’s visible cracks and makeshift repairs represent not only the physical deterioration of their environment but also the psychological fragmentation within Kim Dan himself. By choosing to patch the window rather than replace it, Shin Okja’s actions reflect a mentality of denial and resignation—an unwillingness to confront the full extent of their impoverishment and suffering.

This refusal to replace the broken window (chapter 19) suggests a deeper symbolic resistance to change or moving forward. In a sense, the grandmother’s decision to live with the broken window mirrors her acceptance of a life defined by limitations and unspoken grief. (chapter 19) It implies a preference for preserving a fragile status quo over embracing the uncertainty of transformation. For Kim Dan, who grew up in this environment, the broken window became a constant reminder that his world was fractured yet stagnant—a prison where time seemed to stand still, marked by routines of survival rather than progress.

Moreover, the window’s damage also serves as a visual metaphor for Kim Dan’s own brokenness, his unresolved trauma, and his sense of abandonment. The act of looking through a cracked and dirty window obscures the view of the outside world, just as Kim Dan’s perception of the future is clouded by past wounds and insecurities. Unlike Joo Jaekyung’s glass prison—clear but impassable—Kim Dan’s window is both broken and opaque, reinforcing the sense that he cannot even see what lies beyond his current existence, let alone escape it.

The grandmother’s passive acceptance of the broken window further exposes her powerlessness. It’s not merely about financial inability; it reflects a mental state of giving up—a resignation to a life where even repairing what’s broken seems pointless. In this context, the window becomes a symbol of Kim Dan’s psychological inheritance—a learned helplessness that prevents him from fully embracing the flow of time and the possibility of change. When he sat in front of that broken window, turning his back to the door, it symbolized his abandonment issues—an unconscious reenactment of being left behind. His world grew smaller with each passing day, suffocating him to the point of nightmares where he struggled to breathe.

The Door: Abandonment and Isolation

The motif of doors carries a dual significance in Jinx. On one hand, the fighter’s words in Episode 51 (chapter 51) served as the key that triggered Kim Dan’s abandonment trauma. How so? While “get out of my sight” implied that Kim Dan should leave him, the reality is that the champion left the locker room first. (chapter 51) Observe how the “hamster” is once again turning his back to the door. However, the bloody footprints became an evidence for Kim Dan that he had been abandoned and left behind. And now, you comprehend why the main lead took the athlete’s request seriously and literally. It is because the door in the past was the symbol of betrayal and abandonment. This explicates why he is so sensitive to the sound of a closing door and could recognize it, even if his ears and eyes were covered. (chapter 35)

As a child, he had been turning his back to the door, while he was talking over the phone. (chapter 19) According to my hypothesis, this memory announces the moment of the parent’s abandonment. Thus I deduce that when unconsciously, he came to associate the door with desertion. No wonder why he woke up, when he sensed the lack of warmth in the bed: (chapter 21) Consequently, I interpret the following scene like this: (chapter 19) When he was standing here, he must have sensed it as a betrayal against his own grandmother. Hence he employed the expression “goodbye” and not “farewell” to diminish his guilt. No wonder why he chose to hide his move from his relative and bring the Wedding Cabinet to the penthouse. Under this new perspective, my avid readers can grasp why Kim Dan’s nightmares in season 2 were linked to the opened door: (chapter 57) His unconscious was telling him this: Shin Okja had broken her promise. She was about to abandon him. He had the impression that he was reliving the past. That’s the reason why he was scared and suffering. (chapter 57) In addition, I believe that his unconscious was pushing him to come clean with the past, to reveal the changes in his life. It was impossible for both of them to keep such unreal promises. (chapter 11)

Because of the champion’s action in episode 51, the door became synonymous with rejection, with the fear of being cast aside at any moment. However, this time the association was more conscious. The open door in Kim Dan’s nightmare, where the halmoni had vanished, represented his deepest fear of being left alone in darkness. And what is he doing now? He is afflicting the same pain to his lover (chapter 64)

But there’s more to it. I had long outlined that the little boy was talking over the phone, when he recalled this moment. (chapter 19) That’s how he came to associate the telephone with betrayal and abandonment. Therefore it is no coincidence that the “hamster” was not calling Shin Okja either, when she was at the hospital. Joo Jaekyung’s inability to call Kim Dan (chapter 56) revealed the existence of a past trauma. It highlighted his own fear of abandonment and rejection—an emotion he had long denied. The door, a supposed barrier against the outside world, now stood as a reminder of all he had pushed away, including his own need for connection. Therefore he never left his door open in the penthouse: (chapter 55) That’s why I perceive this scene as an important step for Kim Dan himself: (chapter 64) By opening and closing the door, he is overcoming his abandonment issues. He becomes the ruler of his own life (time and relationship). He is freeing himself from the mental torment which readers could witness in earlier episodes.

However, the door symbolizes another notion: secret! Thus Mingwa created this sex session behind a closed door: (chapter 24) The physical therapist has kept his past trauma a secret. And what is the synonym for “secret”? Key! So when the main lead leaves the champion behind (chapter 64), he doesn’t realize that he is exposing the existence of his “secret”. In verity, he is actually inviting Joo Jaekyung to open the door and as such find this secret. In his mind, he is excluding his partner, whereas in truth the opposite is happening. Don’t forget that in episode 24, Kim Dan desired to hide the truth from Potato (chapter 24), yet the latter didn’t get fooled at all. He found out the true nature of their relationship. (chapter 64) By leaving, Kim Dan unwittingly presents Joo Jaekyung with the opportunity—or perhaps even the challenge—to find the ‘key’ to understanding him. This key is not just about uncovering past traumas but also about unlocking the true nature of their relationship—transforming it from a transactional arrangement into something genuine and emotionally honest.

The Wedding Cabinet: A Prison of Timelessness

In the absence of a transparent window, (chapter 19) the Wedding Cabinet in Kim Dan’s home functioned both as a mirror and a false window, preserving an illusion of timelessness. (chapter 19) Unlike the rest of the dilapidated house (chapter 10), the cabinet remained pristine, suggesting a futile attempt to halt the passage of time and maintain the status quo. (chapter 53) By throwing it away, Kim Dan unknowingly released time from its prison, breaking the spell that his grandmother’s control had cast over him. This act was not just a rejection of his past but an unconscious acknowledgment that time was moving forward—that he could no longer live as if he were already dead. Simultaneously, this gesture symbolizes his separation from his grandmother, breaking the illusion of perpetuity that she maintained. So while he might have been by her side physically (chapter 53), he was deep down miles away from her emotionally and mentally. This observation explains why he could object to her suggestion. (chapter 57) On the one hand, it shows that he was maturing, on the other hand as a young adult, it is clear that he is destined to make mistakes. He has always defined himself as the caregiver, but he forgot his own true nature: he is a human before anything else. And what is the definition of humanity? I would say, the capacity of benevolence and the inevitability of mistakes. It reflects the dual nature of human existence—the potential for compassion, kindness, and altruism on one side, and the propensity for mistakes, weaknesses, and moral failings on the other. And that’s exactly what the doctor has been mirroring to the champion in the lavender-tinted bedroom: (chapter 64) Joo Jaekyung was in his eyes a human, and not a champion. The irony is that with this idiom “always”, he is implying that he had hopes and expectations. The athlete would change and treat him better. Since the doctor has always been the embodiment of “selflessness”, the gods made sure to remind him of his own true nature: “mistakes”. That’s why he is often making blunders (chapter 1) to the point that I called him “Mister Mistake”. (chapter 43) On the other hand, his missteps are there to teach the fighter to drop his perfectionism and to bring the notion of entertainment in his fated partner’s life. Kim Dan is funny in his own way.

In religious contexts, errors are often framed as sins, accentuating the moral dimension of human actions and the necessity of redemption or forgiveness. This duality suggests that to be human is not only to strive for virtue but also to acknowledge and learn from one’s imperfections. The very ability to err, seek forgiveness, and change is seen as an intrinsic part of the human experience. This new perception reinforces my previous interpretation: the existence of champion’s jinx was indirectly questioned, when Kim Dan reminded his lover of his own true nature. He is a sinner. (chapter 64) He doesn’t respect humans in general. The irony is that by criticizing Joo Jaekyung, the doctor is overlooking his own nature. He is also a sinner.

(chapter 57) Is it a coincidence that the doctor’s cold attitude takes place in chapter 60 -64? (chapter 61) No, as the number 6 sounds similar to sex. Moreover, don’t forget that Satan’s number is strongly associated with 6 (666 or 616). From my point of view, the “hamster” is on his way to become an adult and as such a sinner as well. The physical therapist’s stubbornness reminded me of the behavior of a teenager who believes to know everything about life, while in verity, such people lack experiences. And what did the nurse say about the main lead? (chapter 57) He should nurse himself for his halmoni’s sake so that the latter wouldn’t worry. From my point of view, if doc Dan gets sick, he could be the catalysator for her deteriorating health. But now, it is time to return our attention to the “champion”.

The Abuser’s Shadow: A Timeless Sentence

Joo Jaekyung saw himself as a god who could turn time back: (chapter 61) But why did he want to return to the past? It is because of the ghost’s criticism (chapter 54) ‘You’ve never been good at anything’ were designed to freeze Joo Jaekyung in time, trapping him in a mental prison where change was impossible. I would even add, the mysterious person gave a negative connotation to “change”. On the one hand, the champion was pushed to prove the tormentor’s statement wrong, on the other hand, this implied that one “loss” would be perceived as a validation of the ghost’s claim. This signifies that his obsession with maintaining his title stemmed not from pride but from a desperate need to refute the man’s statement. We could say that the fighter fought not out of fun, but out of hatred and fears. (chapter 29) That’s why he was on survival modus and could never refuse any challenge. By associating sex with endurance and control (chapter 2), he replicated the sports-like expectations imposed by his abuser—likely someone from the medical or sports world who viewed him not as a human but as an asset. This means that despite the distance, this invisible abuser was still ruling over the athlete’s life exposing the falsehood of his belief: self-reliance. He was still acting as a helpless person. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Joo Jaekyung had to leave the penthouse with its huge windows. By leaving this place behind, he was actually moving away from the abuser’s claws, similar to the doctor’s move in episode 19.

So when Kim Dan’s words are here challenge this narrative. By accusing Joo Jaekyung of treating him like a doll, he inadvertently exposed the athlete’s own objectification at the hands of his abuser. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung is confronted with the possibility that he has been living as a reflection of his tormentor, not as himself. That’s the reason why he is placed with Kim Dan on the bed in the same position as his abuser: (chapter 64) (chapter 54) Imagine: it was, as though he had become the same person than his tormentor. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the champion had to turn around doc Dan before his climax. It is because he feared his lover’s gaze. I would even add, he was unconsciously projecting himself in the “hamster’s place”. Yes, deep down, he is still a child, exactly like Kim Dan. (chapter 57) But contrary to the physical therapist, we don’t know how the champion looked like as a “child”. So when the teenager closes the door, he is taught not only that he is alone (chapter 64), but also that he has lived in a mental prison too. His fated companion made him realize the positive side of change! The ghost is also a mortal, he can not control time either. He is aging as well. By distorting the past (chapter 64), the fighter is encouraged to question his own past and narrative, in particular his feelings. (chapter 54) What he felt back then, is no longer the same! All this time, he rejected emotions because he feared attachment and betrayal. The reality is that he was still feeling emotions (fears, resentment) and allowed them to rule his life. But now, he is feeling something: attachment, pleasure and warmth. (chapter 64) That’s why the door (chapter 64) becomes the place of Joo Jaekyung’s Enlightenment. (chapter 64) Hence the author focused on his wide opened gaze. Kim Dan’s intervention was painful but necessary, because through this reflection, the athlete’s motivation to fight is bound to change. In the future, the fight won’t be deadly serious like before, he won’t act like a tyrant in the ring where he couldn’t control his rage. (chapter 1) He will see his opponent as an artist too.

The Key of Time: Acceptance and Change

If the Wedding Cabinet symbolized a frozen past and a fake future (chapter 19), then the key to breaking this spell lies in accepting the passage of time. (chapter 53) Kim Dan’s act of discarding the cabinet was the first turn of this key, an unconscious decision to face mortality and change. He was embracing the unknown. And if the champion chose to retrieve it and became his new owner, I come to the following interpretation: the Wedding Cabinet will become the symbol of loyalty and a precious memory linked to Shin Okja. He definitely had a good time (chapter 21) with her, because he felt treasured. (chapter 61)

Similarly, Joo Jaekyung’s growing awareness of his own emotions (chapter 63) —no matter how reluctantly—represents the second turn. With the doctor’s cold rejection, he is forced to choose: What does he want in life? Only the champion title or something else? (chapter 64)

By recognizing the difference between the star and the human Joo Jaekyung, he can finally start to separate his identity from the expectations of his abuser. For the first time, he may come to see the title not as his existence but as a part of it—something that can be let go without losing himself. And this brings me back to my previous observation: the symbol of the window in the athlete’s life! (chapter 64) My avid readers will certainly recognized that in that hostel room, the window is covered by curtains! Besides, the bed is placed in front of it implying that the person can not meditate in the bed while looking at the window. That’s why the celebrity is turning his back to the window. Kim Dan is his reflection and as such the key to his release. This means, the bedroom loses its meaning as a fake place for “introspection”. Joo Jaekyung is destined to follow doc Dan in the end. Hence the latter will become his hyung. For me, there’s no doubt that through this confrontation, the athlete’s respect for Kim Dan can only increase. (chapter 64) He voiced his own thoughts and emotions without raising his voice or using violence which contrasts to Park Namwook. Joo Jaekyung’s gaze reveals no resentment or anger, just disbelief and realization. So if he starts following the doctor’s lead, I can only come to the deduction that he has to leave the room. So his feet should lead him to nature, if he doesn’t follow his lover directly. Since water is the place where he feels comfortable (chapter 27), and he noticed the quietness of the ocean (chapter 62), I am expecting that he will go to the beach. A new version of this scene: (chapter 59) But this time, that would be a conscious choice. That’s how he will reconnect with his true self for good. But strangely, I am expecting that he won’t be on his own. I am quite certain that this man will make a similar experience than the grandmother: (chapter 53) However, from my point of view, Joo Jaekyung should witness the sunrise and not sunset… which would announce his rebirth. There was only one sunset in season 1, which was linked to Shin Okja’s mortality: (chapter 47). Moreover, in season 1 and 2, the doctor was often connected to the sunset: (chapter 1) (chapter 17) And we had the beach here in the background. (chapter 48) This was an ominous sign for the champion’s symbolic “death” and rebirth. Sun and moon are natural tools to determine the flow of time.

Conclusion: The Time of Liberation

As time resumes its flow, both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung are being forced to confront the illusions that have kept them trapped. The glass prisons of windows and mirrors, the locked doors of abandonment, and the preserved Wedding Cabinet are all starting to crumble, revealing the path forward. They are about to receive their final life lessons: no one is powerful in front of time. Time can heal as much as it can destroy. They should enjoy their life due to its brevity.

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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: Blooming 🌸🌹🌻Muscles 🦾

Joo Jaekyung’s journey in Season 2 represents a profound transformation, one that quietly unfolds through small yet significant acts of humility, care, and self-awareness. This transformation also connects deeply to the themes of vulnerability and community (chapter 62), as his actions increasingly reflect a willingness to embrace his own fragility and build meaningful ties with those around him. Through his growing interactions with others and his immersion in the rhythms of town life, the champion begins to redefine his sense of identity and purpose, moving beyond dominance to discover the power of connection. From a man defined by strength, dominance, and transactional relationships (chapter 55), he evolves into someone deeply connected to others (chapter 62) (chapter 62) and, more importantly, to himself. (chapter 62) Thus in this essay I will explore the symbolic meaning behind his actions in the town, the interplay of nature and community in his transformation, and how these moments reflect his internal growth. The analysis begins with his transformative experience in the ocean during his rescue of Kim Dan (chapter 60), followed by his newfound attentiveness to his surroundings—jogging in silence and responding to the natural rhythms of life. (chapter 62) This heightened awareness paves the way for his burgeoning integration into the town through labor (chapter 62) and community service. His gradual acceptance of simplicity, represented by his clothing and the symbolism of cucumbers and potatoes, signals his reconnection to nature and humanity. (chapter 62)

The Sea: Baptism and a New Beginning

The champion’s rescue of Kim Dan in the ocean marks the starting point of his transformation. (chapter 60) In many ways, this moment functions as a symbolic baptism, reflecting a deeper narrative of renewal and change. In Chapter 28, Kim Dan’s immersion in water during a pool scene (chapter 28) was symbolic of his acceptance of intimacy, reshaping his view of sex from something “filthy” (chapter 20) into something natural and human. (chapter 29) Similarly, Joo Jaekyung’s dive into the ocean can be interpreted as his baptism into a new “religion”: love and vulnerability. (chapter 60) His gesture is not just about saving his loved one, but also showing care to humans in general. He can no longer be indifferent to someone in pain or in danger.

Unlike the controlled environment of the MMA ring, the ocean’s vastness forces Joo Jaekyung to confront the vulnerability of humans. (chapter 60) The ocean, much stronger than any human, compels him to accept weakness and fragility as natural parts of existence. This act of salvation, driven by instinct, becomes his first step toward embracing a new mindset—one that values care, connection, and humility over material power or dominance.

This shift also challenges his reliance on money and material success. As a wealthy and renowned athlete, Joo Jaekyung is accustomed to solving problems through financial means or physical strength. However, his time in the town and his rescue of Kim Dan underscore the futility of these tools in addressing deeper human needs like love, trust, and emotional connection. (chapter 62) He might complain, but in the end he accepts the presents. This change is reinforced by his willingness to accept gratitude in the form of vegetables and food rather than monetary gain, showing a newfound appreciation for simple, heartfelt exchanges over transactional relationships.

Moreover, the ocean connects to the myth of Venus’ birth, where the goddess of love emerged from the sea as a result of conflict and pain inflicted upon her parents. Similarly, Kim Dan’s plunge into the ocean stems from his own deep pain, (chapter 59) caused by his grandmother’s neglect, indifference and rejection. The rescue, while focused on saving Kim Dan, also represents the birth of a new understanding for Joo Jaekyung—a recognition of the transformative power of vulnerability and connection.

However, this act of salvation is not immediately transformative. Hence his wish is to bring back Kim Dan to Seoul. (chapter 60) At the time, his eyes were fixed solely on Kim Dan (chapter 60), not the natural world around him. The rescue planted a subconscious seed, setting the stage for his later behavior. When Kim Dan denies his assistance in Episode 60 (chapter 60), it’s as if the doctor erases that defining moment, refusing to acknowledge the champion’s care. Yet Joo Jaekyung does not react with anger or frustration. Instead, he takes the doctor’s rejection as challenge. (chapter 60) However, contrary to the past, money and influence seems to have no impact on the physical therapist’s mind and heart. He is keeping the athlete at arms-length. (chapter 61) The moment he moves to that little town (chapter 61), he begins to demonstrate his growth through quiet, consistent actions—helping others without expecting gratitude in return.

Jogging Alone: A New Awareness

One of the most striking moments in Joo Jaekyung’s transformation occurs during his solitary jog at the beginning of this chapter. (chapter 62) For the first time, he is not merely running for fitness or competition; he is paying attention to his surroundings. (chapter 62) He notices the quiet of the town, the warmth of the sun (chapter 62), and the natural rhythm of life around him.

This evolution is particularly evident in his interaction with the town chief, who interrupts his jogging to engage him in conversation. (chapter 62) Running along the ocean, a setting that profoundly influences his state of mind, Joo Jaekyung demonstrates a newfound openness. (chapter 62) The ocean’s vastness, paired with the quiet rhythm of his steps, sets the tone for this scene. Rather than perceiving the interruption as intrusive, he pauses without hesitation, listens to the chief’s compliment, and accepts the subsequent request for help. (chapter 62) This moment underscores his growing ability to connect with others sincerely, without suspicion or defensiveness. His willingness to engage reflects a broader transformation—one that prioritizes meaningful connections over dominance or transactional relationships. This newfound awareness signifies a major shift in his character. His senses are becoming attuned to the world beyond himself, and he is learning to differentiate between what truly matters and what does not.

Jogging alongside the ocean, Joo Jaekyung is subtly influenced by his surroundings, a setting that begins to calm his mind and heart. (chapter 62) The image of the waves serves as a reminder of nature’s vast power, yet the author’s choice to focus only on the sound of his steps—through the onomatopoeia “tap”—emphasizes that Joo Jaekyung no longer perceives the ocean’s presence as intrusive or overwhelming. This highlights a new harmony between him and his environment, as he is learning to exist within its rhythm rather than overpowering it. This mindfulness mirrors his growing engagement with the community, where his labor and acts of service reflect his evolving priorities. His newfound attentiveness during the jog is a precursor to his willingness to contribute selflessly, signaling a transformation that blends physical discipline with emotional depth.

This heightened awareness aligns with his growing ability to say no, a skill that becomes crucial as he navigates the town’s requests and his evolving priorities within the community. (chapter 62) In the past, Joo Jaekyung never refused a challenge, whether in the ring or in life. However, his time in the town is teaching him the value of boundaries. By discerning which requests are worth his time and energy, he is preparing himself for the inevitable challenges he will face upon returning to Seoul. His refusal to blindly follow MFC’s demands would mark the ultimate culmination of this lesson, proving that his strength is no longer just physical but deeply rooted in wisdom and self-respect. This newfound discernment is also reflected in his ability to engage with meaningful interactions, as seen in his conversation with the town chief. (chapter 62) By stopping his jog and attentively listening to the chief’s compliments and requests, Joo Jaekyung demonstrates a growing openness and respect for others, reinforcing his transformation from a figure of dominance to one of genuine connection.

Helping the Town: Labor as Redemption

Joo Jaekyung’s labor in the town mirrors his “baptism” in the sea, emphasizing his shift toward humility and service. He assists the townspeople without hesitation (chapter 62), fulfilling requests that range from carrying cucumbers to harvesting potatoes or even repairing an elderly woman’s roof. (chapter 62) This latter moment marks a stark contrast to his earlier attitude in Chapter 10, where he viewed Kim Dan’s living conditions through the lens of judgment (chapter 10), seeing only the “overpowering stench of poverty.” (chapter 10) At that time, his perception was clouded by indifference and a focus on material circumstances. Now, however, his response to the elderly woman’s request reflects empathy and an awareness of human vulnerability.

The shift is visually emphasized through the contrasting color palettes. In Chapter 10, the scene in Kim Dan’s apartment is steeped in grays and blues (chapter 10), evoking a sense of cold detachment and judgment. In contrast, the moment where Joo Jaekyung is asked to repair the roof is bathed in daylight (chapter 62), with warm yellows and soft tones that highlight his newfound openness and humility. This visual change symbolizes his evolving perspective—he no longer sees poverty as something to disdain but rather as a context where assistance is needed and deserved. His actions are guided not by obligation but by a genuine desire to help, reflecting a significant step in his transformation.

The vegetables he receives as compensation further highlight this transformation, symbolizing a newfound appreciation for non-material rewards and mutual exchange. (chapter 62) It is clear that he rejected money, when someone else asked for his assistance. (chapter 62) Thus I deduce that he never accepted any kind of compensation in the end. But none of the inhabitants could accept such a generosity, therefore they brought vegetables or dishes. Unlike his previous life, defined by detachment and impermanence, these acts of community-oriented labor mark a significant shift in how he values his strength—not as a tool for control (chapter 62), but as a way to support and uplift others. The admiration from the inhabitants is genuine (chapter 62) contrary to the fans’. (chapter 62) His progression to harvesting potatoes, which grow hidden beneath the earth, deepens this symbolism, representing humility and a more profound engagement with nature and the people around him. This transition mirrors his personal growth: from surface-level participation to meaningful involvement in the lives of those around him. But why does he blame the doctor in the end? (chapter 62) One might think, he is doing all of this against his will and heart. In my opinion, it is related to his past behavior: (chapter 62) The champion feels really bad for his rejection after the incident with the spray. And since he believes that Kim Dan comes from that town, he thinks that he can redeem himself by helping his “community”.

A defining moment occurs (chapter 62) when he receives a bowl of potatoes as compensation for his work. This simple yet heartfelt gesture reinforces the theme of “laying down roots,” as the vegetables symbolize his growing connection to the community and his appreciation for non-material rewards. The contrast between this moment and his life in the penthouse is striking—where once his wealth isolated him, now simplicity and community nourish him both literally and figuratively. His words (chapter 62) suggest disbelief or frustration, yet the sparkling stars around the potatoes contradict his words, revealing a quiet appreciation. The absence of his mouth in this scene further emphasizes an internal conflict—his words do not fully align with his growing understanding of value beyond material wealth. This scene in front of the vegetables (chapter 62) exposes a dissonance between his mind (mouth) and his heart revealing that he is not true to himself yet.

This moment also contrasts with Kim Dan’s grandmother’s behavior. While she sold vegetables for money (chapter 47), she rarely prioritized Kim Dan’s nourishment. The grandmother’s actions were driven by financial survival. Joo Jaekyung, on the other hand, receives food as a form of gratitude and recognizes the significance of nourishment beyond monetary gain. (chapter 62) His words expose that he plans to use them for his meals.

These observations bring an intriguing dimension to the chapter, particularly when we contrast the actor’s perception of Joo Jaekyung (chapter 58) with the reality of his evolving personality and his behavior toward others. Choi Heesung’s dismissive remark that Joo Jaekyung would “flip his shit” if he knew the living conditions of Kim Dan implies a static, unchanging view of the champion, one that aligns with a superficial understanding of him as merely ruthless and violent. However, this chapter reveals the fallacy in such an interpretation, exposing the actor’s arrogance and lack of true insight into Joo Jaekyung’s character.

The actor’s words stand in stark contrast to the champion’s behavior in the town, where he demonstrates care, humility, and a willingness to engage with others. (chapter 62) This shows that if someone, like Potato, had made a genuine effort to connect with Joo Jaekyung (chapter 23), they could have succeeded. Potato, the youngest member of the team, embodies this missed opportunity. (chapter 9) His nickname, “Potato,” while intended as lighthearted and affectionate, is something he despises because he perceives it as demeaning. Yet the reality is quite the opposite—nicknames like these often carry affection and camaraderie. Yet he rejects it out of insecurity or an internalized belief in its inferiority.

Joo Jaekyung’s actions in the town, contrasted with the actor’s dismissive remarks, suggest a deeper lesson about assumptions and the ability to build meaningful relationships. The young fighter’s rejection of his nickname and possible resentment toward the champion (chapter 52) reveal a missed opportunity for bonding. The champion, who is evolving into a more open and empathetic individual, might have been an unexpected source of support and connection had Potato not listen to others and chosen to embrace this chance instead of harboring negative assumptions.

This chapter (chapter 62) underscores the gap between perception and reality, showing how preconceived notions can prevent genuine relationships from forming. It also reinforces the theme of growth and transformation, as Joo Jaekyung continues to break away from the static image others have of him, proving that even the most misunderstood individuals can surprise us with their capacity for change. The interplay between the nickname “Potato” and its underlying affection further echoes the theme of finding value and beauty in simplicity—a motif central to the champion’s journey as he embraces humility and authenticity.

Sandals and Flowers Over Fangs

While Joo Jaekyung’s floral-patterned pants and hat caught the readers by surprise (chapter 62), it is important to notice that this metamorphosis began much earlier.

First, I noticed that at the hospital, he was wearing sandals without socks (chapter 62) , while he had put on his expensive jeans and CK tee-shirt. (chapter 62). This stands in opposition to the previous scene in front of the hospice: (chapter 61) The focus on Joo Jaekyung’s feet (chapter 62) and his choice of wearing sandals without socks, despite his otherwise branded and expensive outfit, carries deeper symbolism that extends beyond mere humbleness. It reflects his state of mind and highlights subtle aspects of his character and situation. Firstly, the exposed feet symbolize vulnerability and openness. Sandals, unlike closed shoes, leave the feet unprotected, suggesting that Joo Jaekyung is letting down his guard. This choice conveys his growing comfort or trust in the environment, particularly at the hospital, where he feels no immediate danger or need to maintain his usual defenses.

Secondly, the sandals reflect a sense of groundedness and comfort. They indicate that Joo Jaekyung feels at ease in this setting, contrasting with the stress or pressure he might experience elsewhere. (chapter 62) The hospital or Kim Dan’s presence may provide him with a sense of stability and calmness, allowing him to adopt a more casual and relaxed appearance. Additionally, the contrast between his expensive jeans and branded t-shirt and his unassuming sandals reveals a division between his public image and private self. While his clothing aligns with his status as a wealthy and successful individual, the casual footwear hints at a simpler, more authentic side of him that is emerging in this setting. It reflects his willingness to shed some of the societal expectations tied to his identity.

The sandals can also be seen as a symbol of transition. (chapter 62) Feet often represent movement or progress, and wearing casual footwear like sandals might signify that he is in a state of personal transformation. The lack of socks further emphasizes this shedding of layers—he is slowly allowing himself to be more vulnerable and introspective, stepping away from his usual, controlled persona. Finally, sandals reflect his connection to the environment. His footwear choice underscores that the hospital is a place where he feels secure and unthreatened. The focus on his feet could symbolize his groundedness in the moment, highlighting that this environment allows him to pause and reflect, rather than act or defend.

In summary, Joo Jaekyung’s sandals symbolize his vulnerability, comfort, and authenticity. They represent his transition toward a more unguarded version of himself and his growing trust in the environment and, perhaps, in Kim Dan. The author’s deliberate focus on his feet underscores this subtle but significant shift in his character.

Another detail attracted my attention: the vanishing of the cap. (chapter 62) The latte is used as a shield. He doesn’t want to be recognized. This explicates why the moment he removes the cap (chapter 62), he is immediately approached by the town chief. (chapter 62) This shows that the owner of the hostel had not only observed him for the past few days, but also had quite understood the significance of the cap: anonymity and distance. Consequently, when the celebrity chose to leave the hat at home, he expressed his satisfaction, safety and comfort in this place. This indicates another step in the dragon’s metamorphosis.

The champion’s floral-patterned pants and hat further illustrate his transformation (chapter 62) and his effort to integrate into the environment around him. These borrowed clothes symbolize humility and practicality, standing in stark contrast to his penthouse life (chapter 42), where appearances and dominance once took precedence over community and connection. (chapter 02) The penthouse, perched high above the city, served as a symbol of isolation and self-reliance—an ivory tower of sorts, detached from the world below. In contrast, the town’s hostel (chapter 62) reflects shared experiences and human connection, embodying a shift toward groundedness and humility.

The floral patterns on his clothing carry additional symbolic weight. (chapter 62) Flowers, often associated with growth, renewal, and gentleness, contrast sharply with the predatory imagery of his Season 1 leopard-print pajamas. (chapter 30) This evolution from animalistic aggression (chapter 30) to floral gentleness mirrors his inner journey—from a man who thrived on dominance to one who values connection and vulnerability. By choosing practicality over intimidation, he signals a readiness to embrace his humanity and shed the pretensions of his past. Moreover, the hat has here a different function: it serves as a real protection from the sun, hence his neck is covered.

The practicality of these clothes also signifies his growing comfort in this environment and marks a stark contrast to his previous life in the penthouse. In the penthouse, his wardrobe and lifestyle reflected detachment and a preoccupation with dominance, symbolizing isolation and self-reliance. Now, his practical and borrowed clothing embodies a shift toward humility and integration into the town’s community. No longer concerned with appearances, he prioritizes function over image, a stark departure from his previous self. The champion’s acceptance of “ridiculous” clothing highlights his willingness to shed past pretensions and integrate into the town’s rhythm of life.

A New Name, A New Identity

Another subtle but significant aspect of Joo Jaekyung’s transformation is his landlord giving him a new name: (chapter 62) “Jaegeng.” While this may initially appear as a simple mistake due to the landlord’s poor hearing, it holds deeper symbolic weight. This renaming can be interpreted as part of Joo Jaekyung’s rebirth in the town—a reflection of his evolving identity.

The landlord’s misnaming is especially poignant because it occurs without any knowledge of Joo Jaekyung’s fame, wealth, or status as an MMA champion. To the landlord, he is not “the Martial Emperor” or a celebrity but simply a man who has shown strength, care, and selflessness in his actions. This name, therefore, becomes a representation of how Joo Jaekyung is seen in this new environment: not for his achievements or material success, but for his intrinsic qualities and the genuine impact he has on those around him.

By giving him a new name, the landlord unknowingly affirms Joo Jaekyung’s transformation. In many cultures, names symbolize identity, belonging, and purpose. “Jaegeng” serves as a marker of his rebirth into a life that values connection over dominance, humbleness over pride. It underscores the idea that the town is becoming a place where he is recognized and appreciated for who he truly is, rather than what he has accomplished.

Furthermore, this renaming highlights the theme of visibility and acceptance. For most of his life, Joo Jaekyung has been defined by his physical prowess and public persona, often hiding his vulnerabilities behind his success. He was badmouthed by his manager Park Namwook, as an ill-tempered (chapter 52), spoiled rich brat: (chapter 7) Yet here, in the quiet simplicity of the town, he is seen not for his image but for his actions. The landlord’s care and warmth (chapter 62) further reinforce this shift, showing that true respect and recognition come from authentic relationships, not societal labels. This chapter actually proves not only the manager’s bias wrong, but also MFC’s badmouthing. (chapter 54) Like mentioned above, his stay in this little town is teaching him to become immune to manipulations in the end. His self-esteem is getting boosted, hence he doesn’t mind being called “Jaegeng”. (chapter 62) Notice that he never corrects his neighbor and Kim Dan’s landlord.

Laying Down Roots: A Journey Toward Stability

The phrase “laying down roots” (chapter 62) offers a profound insight into Joo Jaekyung’s character, revealing his unfamiliarity with the concepts of stability and belonging. This idiom, often associated with establishing permanence or forming deep connections, feels foreign to him, reflecting a life where such notions were neither prioritized nor experienced. Its use in this context signals his subconscious recognition of a significant internal shift.

If we interpret this phrase through the lens of Joo Jaekyung’s possible upbringing—marked by frequent relocations or a transient lifestyle—it sheds light on why this concept might feel new and even perplexing. A life of constant movement, potentially due to his parents’ careers or ambitions, would have disrupted his ability to build meaningful relationships or develop a stable sense of home. Let’s not forget that he speaks English fluently. This emotional rootlessness could explain his hyper-focus on self-reliance and his struggle with vulnerability, as he likely learned to depend solely on himself.

In contrast, Kim Dan’s rootlessness stems from neglect and exclusion, experienced while remaining in a single place (chapter 19). This creates a fascinating parallel between the two characters: both grapple with the idea of belonging, but from opposing starting points. While Kim Dan longs for acceptance in a community (chapter 56) that has continually rejected him (parents, students, hospital; Team Black), Joo Jaekyung is learning how to stop running—physically and emotionally—and to establish a sense of permanence for the first time in his life.

By choosing to “lay down roots” in the town, even if initially motivated by his desire to bring Kim Dan back to Seoul, Joo Jaekyung is unknowingly practicing an act of stability and connection. His integration into the town’s daily life, through his labor and interactions with the townspeople, marks a pivotal step in his transformation. It shows that his motivations are gradually shifting away from self-serving goals toward something more meaningful: a life enriched by mutual care and human connection.

This phrase also ties into the broader symbolism of his actions in the town. Receiving vegetables as compensation, working in the fields, and forming relationships with the locals reflect his growing connection to the earth and to others. This stands in stark contrast to his previous life in the penthouse, where he lived isolated high above the world, detached from the lives of others. Now, by grounding himself—both literally and metaphorically—Joo Jaekyung is beginning to rebuild his identity on a foundation of humility, service, and authenticity.

Ultimately, “laying down roots” becomes more than just a metaphor for his time in the town. It represents a pivotal moment in his journey of self-discovery, as he learns to create a life not defined by dominance or independence but by connection and belonging.

Kim Dan’s Limited Perspective

Kim Dan, busy with his own work, remains unaware of the full extent of Joo Jaekyung’s contributions to the town. His landlord’s comment about the champion’s back pain forces Kim Dan to confront his own biases. (chapter 62) Refusing to treat Joo Jaekyung would make him appear heartless, yet his compliance is reluctant and transactional, rooted in obligation rather than understanding. This disconnect highlights how much Kim Dan has yet to grasp about Joo Jaekyung’s transformation. He still views the champion through the lens of their past, unable to see the quiet generosity that now defines his actions.

Interestingly, the townspeople’s admiration for Joo Jaekyung’s strength and kindness contrasts with Kim Dan’s perception. While they see him as a selfless helper, Kim Dan struggles to reconcile this new image with the man he once viewed as domineering and detached. He still views the protagonist as a celebrity, and not as a man. This tension underscores the theme of hidden growth, where transformation often goes unnoticed by those closest to us.

From Civilization to Nature: The Symbolism of Cucumbers and Potatoes

The progression from helping with cucumbers to working in the potato fields represents Joo Jaekyung’s deepening connection to nature. (chapter 62) Cucumbers, as cultivated crops, symbolize his initial steps toward humility within the structured framework of human civilization. They are tied to his early efforts to integrate into the town, where his labor is still defined by external expectations and requests.

(chapter 62) Potatoes, on the other hand, grow underground, unseen until harvested. They symbolize the deeper, hidden aspects of Joo Jaekyung’s transformation—a connection to the earth that goes beyond surface-level labor. Working in the potato fields brings him closer to the raw, unrefined essence of nature, marking a significant step in his journey. However, his interaction with nature remains tied to human intervention (agriculture). He has yet to venture into the untouched wilderness of the woods, which represents the final frontier of his self-discovery. And this brings me to my next observation: (chapter 62) So far, the champion has not paid attention to Boksoon. He has not even looked at her, because his eyes are always directed at Kim Dan: (chapter 61) (chapter 61) However, her puppy has been buried next to the forest: (chapter 59) Hence I have the impression, she could be the one leading him there, if not Kim Dan. Let’s not forget that the doctor’s deepest wish is to go on a walk through the woods: (chapter 47) Another interesting aspect is that the trip to the forest is connected to rest in the physical therapist’s mind. Striking is that though the champion helped the community, he still worked. So technically, he has never had a day’s rest either. But this is what he said to the landlord: (chapter 61) He came here for his recovery.

Conclusion: The Path to True Grounding

Joo Jaekyung’s transformation in the town unfolds through symbolic milestones: his baptism in the ocean, his labor in the fields, his floral clothing, and his connection to nature. Each moment represents a step away from power, control and isolation toward modesty and service. He is gradually moving away from MFC world. Yet, his journey is incomplete. The untouched woods remain a metaphorical frontier—one he has yet to explore fully.

Kim Dan’s limited awareness of this change highlights how transformation often goes unnoticed by those closest to us. This limited perspective mirrors Kim Dan’s own internal struggles, as he grapples with feelings of inadequacy and a worldview shaped by past trauma. His inability to fully recognize Joo Jaekyung’s growth underscores a poignant contrast—while Joo Jaekyung is learning to connect and embrace change, Kim Dan remains constrained by his guarded nature and lingering doubts about his worthiness of care and community. He considers himself as a waste of time: (chapter 62) Ultimately, Joo Jaekyung’s journey is not just one of self-improvement but a quiet challenge to societal values. True strength is not about control, but about the ability to grow, connect, and embrace change. Blooming muscles signifies not just physical power, but a strength nourished by care, community, and the courage to evolve. Finally, I would like my readers to pay attention to the sky, when the champion approached his fated lover: (chapter 62) It was a mixture of white, purple, pink and orange, a sign that not only the champion’s life has become more colorful, but also the night stands under the sign of love, enlightenment and life. At the same time, it reminded me of the night when the puppy was buried: (chapter 59) Thus I am expecting another huge transformation in the next episode.

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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: Confined Spaces 🚽, Hidden Wounds ❤️‍🩹

As you know, each illustration for an essay always always captures the main message of the analysis. Since the restroom serves as the background illustration, it becomes clear that the topic will focus on this location. However, the picture reveals another underlying theme: bullying. In Jinx, bullying is not always overt but often hidden beneath layers of social interaction. When Kim Dan visited elementary school, he got mocked by being called a bum (chapter 57). Similarly, when Joo Jaekyung faced his opponent Randy Booker, he was also verbally harassed (chapter 14) which visibly destabilized the champion. Then in chapter 49, Team Black failed to perceive the duality of appearances and reality: (chapter 49) the surface shows two athletes seemingly engaged in a normal, even friendly interaction – they are shaking hands -, while the panels reveal a darker undercurrent of verbal harassment and manipulation. (Chapter 49)

Strikingly, Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung are both connected to the restroom, a recurring space of emotional significance. For Kim Dan, it represents refuge and protection, while for Joo Jaekyung, it evokes exposure and humiliation. That is why the illustration portrays a ruined restroom on the left side. Yet, neither character uses this space to truly reflect on their circumstances. Instead, their reactions are dictated by ingrained survival mechanisms—Kim Dan withdraws into himself (chapter 61), while Joo Jaekyung represses his emotions and thoughts through “physical activities”. (chapter 55) This essay will explore how their experiences in the restroom space serve as a mirror to their past and reveal the psychological scars that shape their behaviors.

Restrooms vs. Bathrooms: A Key Distinction

Previously, in Season 1, the restroom always combined a shower and toilet. (chapter 14) (chapter 38) (chapter 47) However, in Season 2, the lavatory appears isolated for the first time, reinforcing a shift in symbolic meaning. This distinction helps to explain why restrooms (toilets/water closets) hold different meanings for the two protagonists. [for more read The duck🦆 and the dragon🐲 in the bathroom 🚿] Restrooms or toilets, often public and utilitarian, symbolize exposure, vulnerability, and societal judgment, where individuals are figuratively and literally exposed to others. In contrast, a bathroom, typically private, evokes intimacy and self-reflection (chapter 19) —a space where one is free to confront their inner selves without external pressures. In Jinx, the use of the restroom emphasizes the external pressures and the characters’ reactions to their environments, reinforcing their struggles with exposure and control. But how did I come to this realization?

Bullying and Stalking: Parallel Mechanisms of Control

It is related to Kim Dan’s behavior in episode 61. Why would he seek the lavatory and stand in front of the closed door? (chapter 61) Naturally, it is related to Joo Jaekyung’s behavior. The latter would meddle in his life. First, he forced him to treat him as patient. Then he acted, as if he was his friend by meeting Shin Okja. (chapter 61) The wolf reminded me of a stalker.

Ironically, bullying and stalking share striking similarities, as both involve an imbalance of power, unwanted attention, and the erosion of the victim’s sense of security. These dynamics mirror the framework of the childhood game “Truth or Dare,” where boundaries are tested (chapter 34), vulnerabilities are exposed, and participants are pushed to their limits. In the essay Guilty Truth or Dare ⚖ – part 1 (second version) I had already outlined the strong connection between bullying, the game and the champion’s past. Interesting is that in season 2, we discovered that the “hamster” had suffered such a fate. This could only reinforce my impression that the athlete shares the same pain than his soulmate. But let’s return our attention to the comparison between stalking and mobbing.

In this way, bullying and stalking act as real-life manifestations of the dangerous interplay between daring actions and withheld truths, forcing victims into cycles of fear, helplessness, and anxiety. And remember how I had developed the theory that Heesung might have been a victim of “stalking”, because he was seen in house slippers and had no jacket, though it was in the winter. (chapter 33) This would explain why Heesung was determined to hide the physical therapist’s whereabouts. (chapter 58) He saw in him a bully and even a stalker. His judgment was based on these two incidents: (chapter 58) He imagined that Kim Dan had been coerced to it, while the physical therapist always had the choice to refuse. Joo Jaekyung would never hurt the doctor.

Bullying often occurs in childhood, imprinting deep-seated fears and behavioral patterns that linger into adulthood. (chapter 57) Hence the doctor is now plagued with nightmares from the past. (chapter 59) The imminent death of his grandmother triggered his repressed fears. (chapter 57) Without her, he is now left with no protection. Stalking, in contrast, occurs later in life but evokes the same psychological distress—trapping victims in a cycle of hyper-awareness, helplessness, and anxiety. What makes stalking even more insidious is that it often mimics past experiences of bullying, dragging the victim back into a state of learned helplessness.

Joo Jaekyung, unfamiliar with being ignored by someone he values (chapter 61), reacts with pursuit. His behavior mirrors the tendencies of a stalker—not out of malice, but because his entire life was shaped by the belief that to be ignored is to be erased and forgotten. (chapter 55) In childhood, he learned that only strength could secure attention (chapter 26) (chapter 54), so when Kim Dan refuses to yield to him, Jaekyung instinctively fights back. (chapter 60) He tracks him down, calls him repeatedly (chapter 61) with the hope to have a conversation with him. (chapter 61) Deep down, he wants to be part of his life. Hence he moves next to Kim Dan’s house as his final attempt. (chapter 61) To Jaekyung, dominance and control are how relationships function, yet due to the doctor’s silent treatment, he is incited to change his approach. But to Kim Dan, these actions trigger memories of past tormentors, reviving the very feelings that once sent him running to the restroom for solace. The same space that shielded him as a child now becomes his only escape from Jaekyung.

Kim Dan’s Trauma Response: The Restroom as a Refuge

The physical therapist’s bullying experience adds another layer of complexity to his relationship with the restroom. In Chapter 57, (chapter 57) he is mocked in the open air, likely in a schoolyard, surrounded by peers. This public ridicule forced Kim Dan to develop a survival strategy—seeking the toilet at school for privacy and protection. There he could cry and vent his negative emotions, for he could no longer complain about his suffering at home. (chapter 57) As a child, he was bullied, humiliated, (chapter 57) and cornered, leading him to associate confined spaces with protection. The restroom was his only escape from ridicule, his sanctuary where he could momentarily regain control. This explains why he went crying there, when he heard the terrible news about his grandmother. (chapter 47)

In adulthood, this habit resurfaces due to Joo Jaekyung’s actions, which unconsciously mirror the behavior of a stalker—persistent, invasive, and overwhelming. The inability to escape fuels Kim Dan’s negative emotions. However, contrary to the past, he is not crying or on his knees. He is now standing, a sign that he is getting stronger mentally. Like mentioned in the previous essay, his thoughts are now showing more resent and anger. Consequently, his gaze is surrounded by darkness. (chapter 61) Since he can not escape the champion, he decides to ignore him.

The best protection against bullying is a healthy self-esteem

If your child is quickly intimidated, this will motivate the perpetrator to continue the nasty game. However, if your child reacts confidently and lets the insults bounce off him or her, the other children may soon stop enjoying it.  quoted from https://www.familienportal.nrw/en/6-bis-10-jahre/krisen-konflikte/bullying-school

This shows that he is regaining confidence thanks to the “dragon”. In other words, in Episode 61, Kim Dan’s retreat into the restroom reflects this ingrained response, showing how deeply his childhood trauma influences his present. This explicates why he is trying to recall the champion as a selfish and ruthless man. (chapter 61) What caught my attention is that he is hiding his bruise on his arm. This exposes his denial about his own physical condition. He wants to act, as if nothing was wrong.

Unlike Jaekyung, who fears his own reflection (chapter 55) – the mirror is very low -, Kim Dan retreats into memories to rationalize his pain. Instead of processing his suffering, he shifts blame to Jaekyung, using the restroom space to wall himself off emotionally. The restroom in Jinx thus acts as a metaphor for entrapment—whether through self-isolation or forced exposure, neither character is truly free from their past.

Because of his denial and self-deception, the restroom loses its function as protection which coincides with his increasing self-esteem. On the other hand, the restroom represents now a source of danger. That’s the reason why I am anticipating that something terrible could happen in this place. Don’t forget that the toilet in the States was connected to the doctor’s illness: (chapter 38) So he could faint there or hurt himself and he would have no one by his side. Don’t forget that this place stands for seclusion and privacy.

But there’s more to it.

Since the bullying started in elementary school (chapter 57), it is clear that the kids were not thinking of sex or using the restroom to assault the little boy. However, we should question ourselves how this rumor about Kim Dan being an orphan started. (chapter 57) The role of a leader in bullying is necessary because their words and actions set the tone and direction for the group. Without a clear leader, group dynamics may remain neutral or passive, but a leader’s initiative legitimizes aggression and creates a structured environment for bullying to thrive. This connection to his childhood bullying raises an intriguing theory about the leader of the mob that tormented him. In Chapter 57, four children are shown mocking him, but the boy in the orange t-shirt stands out—his full face, hairstyle, and outfit are visible. Notably, a newly hired physical therapist introduced in Chapter 54 (chapter 54) bears a striking resemblance to this boy, leading to the possibility that this new character could be Kim Dan’s childhood bully. Given Jinx’s themes of positive psychology and confronting past demons, it is plausible that Kim Dan will encounter this schoolmate again. Such an interaction could force Kim Dan to address his unresolved trauma and reexamine his perceptions of strength and vulnerability. Moreover, don’t forget that the doctor in green saw the champion in a terrible shape who had admitted that he had drunk the night before. (chapter 54) And in episode 61, the main lead announced to Park Namwook that he had to fire the physical therapist. (chapter 61) I sense some retaliation here.

Joo Jaekyung‘s hidden suffering

And the moment I connected the restroom to bullying, I realized why Joo Jaekyung would dislike to share the bathroom with others. (chapter 08) It is because in his mind, this place is associated with toilets in general. That’s how it dawned on me that the athlete could have been harassed at school, but contrary to the physical therapist, it took place later. The leader was Baek Junmin who hid behind the “mob”. (chapter 49) Because he utilized the expression “how you were as a kid”, it signifies that the MMA fighter was not only older, but also an adult, whereas the champion must have been a teenager. And now, you comprehend why Baek Junmin acted like a friendly athlete in front of the public: (chapter 49) It is because if his past actions (an adult bullying a teenager) were to be exposed in the media, there is no doubt that no one would see him as a champion. (chapter 49) People could discern his true personality: he was nothing more than a thug. Moreover, he would be perceived as a cheater, because he used others and his seniority to torment a child or teenager. At the same time, since Joo Jaekyung became a victim of bully later, the content about the mobbing should have been different. I am suspecting that he could have been targeted because of his homosexuality. (chapter 49) So we have to envision that he got assaulted in the school restroom, but everyone chose to close an eye to the situation. There exists two reasons why I am assuming that the restroom is linked to the champion’s suffering.

First, in episode 14, after getting verbally harassed by Randy Booker, the athlete went to the bathroom (chapter 14), but observe that next to him, there was the toilet. That’s the only time we see the toilet linked to the athlete in season 1. Interesting is that though he was alone in the room, he couldn‘t calm down. He even avoided to look at his own reflection. His behavior displays an immense stress and anxiety indicating that despite the presence of Park Namwook in front of the door, he didn‘t feel safe at all. (Chapter 14)

Then in episode 55, we see the champion going to the restroom for sex. (chapter 55) For the first time, he accepted someone other than Kim Dan in such a private room, a sign that the man was getting stronger mentally. However, while he was receiving a fellatio (chapter 55), he showed no reaction. In fact, his headache got even worse than before. (chapter 55) The champion’s passivity and migraine could be the symptoms of the athlete’s past suffering. His pain worsened in that place because of the past, but he didn’t realize it, for he was so focused on his soulmate. Secondly, the moment he was about to get kissed (chapter 55), he pushed the uke away and left the place (chapter 55).In this place, he could show vulnerability, yet he experienced that nothing bad happened to him. This explicates why after this experience is willing to remember and even reconnect with the doctor.

Contrary to Kim Dan whose body got bruised, the athlete’s past traumas are linked to his head and as such his memories. Hence he is now suffering from headaches. (chapter 61) In my opinion, the departure of Kim Dan forced the champion to be confronted with his repressed past. (chapter 54) While he calls his former rival and tormentor’s name and recollects his beating, he is not plagued with a migraine. This means that the real cause for Joo Jaekyung’s suffering (his headache linked to his repressed memories) is triggered by the attitude of his guardian. That’s the reason why he had a nightmare with the ghost of the past.

From my point of view, the fears experiences in episde 14 (chapter 14) are related to the words expressed by the abuser from this past: (chapter 14) The latter mocked him for being vulnerable and weak („pathetic“). Joo Jaekyung was compared to „trash“ because he was useless. (Chapter 54) There is no ambiguity that Randy Booker‘s insults had triggered the athlete‘s repressed memories and fears. Joo Jaekyung’s avoidance of mirrors suggests a fear of self-recognition—an unwillingness to face the vulnerability he tries so hard to suppress. His reaction mirrors the response of someone who has internalized a rigid sense of masculinity, where showing emotion is equated with weakness. The restroom, then, becomes a battleground where he unconsciously fights his past conditioning, yet he is unable to overcome it.

But how are the guardian’s words linked to the bullying? Since Kim Dan’s fate mirrors the star’s, I come to the following deduction. Their guardians shaped them in opposite ways, yet both were left emotionally stunted.

Guardians as Architects of Emotional Vulnerability

The guardians in Jinx—Kim Dan’s grandmother and Joo Jaekyung’s guardian —are pivotal figures in shaping their wards’ emotional landscapes. Through their contrasting philosophies, they unconsciously embedded patterns of emotional dependency and isolation, which continue to influence Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung’s present behaviors. The guardians’ responses to vulnerability, particularly in the face of bullying or hardship, set the foundation for the protagonists’ respective coping mechanisms.

Kim Dan’s Grandmother: Overprotection and Dependency

Kim Dan’s grandmother, with her constant refrain of (chapter 57) “You have me. I’ll always stay by your side,” cultivated a false sense of security but at the cost of Kim Dan’s autonomy and self-esteem. This overprotection became a double-edged sword—while shielding him from immediate harm, it left him ill-equipped to confront challenges on his own. She didn’t teach to have friends or seek help. By placing herself as his sole protector, she inadvertently taught Kim Dan to suppress his needs and desires in favor of compliance and silence.

This dynamic becomes especially evident in the aftermath of bullying. Instead of empowering Kim Dan to stand up to his tormentors or to assist him, her approach reinforced his tendency to retreat and confirmed the bullies’ words ruining his self-esteem. Her suffocating reassurance offered comfort but also fostered passivity, leading Kim Dan to seek solace in confined spaces like the restroom, both physically and emotionally. Hence he ended up with no friend.

Joo Jaekyung’s guardian: Emotional Isolation and Rigid Strength

In stark contrast, Joo Jaekyung’s father operated under a philosophy of emotional detachment. His words (chapter 54) imply that the fighter is not lovable, because he is useless and weak. He can only resolve his problem on his own and this through strength. His message instilled in Jaekyung a belief that vulnerability was synonymous with weakness. Instead of providing guidance or support during moments of hardship, his guardian emphasized self-reliance and resilience, equating worth with strength.

This approach left Joo Jaekyung emotionally stunted, unable to process his own feelings or seek help when needed. His relentless pursuit of dominance, whether in MMA or personal relationships, stems from this ingrained belief that strength is the only way to earn respect and avoid being discarded. The restroom, for him, became a site of humiliation, where vulnerability was laid bare and mocked, rather than a place of refuge. In addition, though Jaekyung likely does not consciously recognize it, the ghost’s treatment—emphasizing toughness and dismissing vulnerability—constitutes a betrayal of trust. As a child, Jaekyung needed emotional validation, guidance, and reassurance, but instead, he received criticism and was left to fend for himself. This breach of trust planted the seeds of betrayal trauma, which explains why we have not seen his “family” yet.

Truth and Dare: The Guardians’ Role in Perpetuating Cycles of Avoidance

The contrasting approaches of Kim Dan’s grandmother and Joo Jaekyung’s tormentor parallel the dynamics of the childhood game “Truth and Dare.” In this game, participants are forced to confront uncomfortable truths or take risky actions that test their boundaries. The guardians, when confronted with the harsh realities of bullying or their wards’ emotional needs, made choices that mirrored this dynamic.

  • Kim Dan’s Grandmother (Avoiding Truth, Choosing Dare): Faced with the reality of Kim Dan’s vulnerability, she chose to shield him rather than confront the deeper issue of his emotional growth. Her “dare” was her decision to take full responsibility for his well-being, creating an illusion of safety while neglecting the need to equip him with tools for self-reliance.
  • Joo Jaekyung’s Father (Avoiding Truth, Choosing Dare): When faced with his son’s emotional struggles, Joo Jaekyung’s father dared to dismiss them entirely, opting for a philosophy of “tough love” that denied vulnerability. His refusal to address his son’s emotional pain perpetuated a cycle of repression, forcing Jaekyung to internalize his struggles.

In both cases, the guardians avoided the truth of their wards’ emotional needs, choosing actions that perpetuated cycles of fear, dependency, or isolation. These choices highlight how avoidance and denial, much like in the game of “Truth and Dare,” can have lasting consequences. But why did they avoid truth in the first place? The answer lies in their unwillingness to confront their own shortcomings and take responsibility for their actions. Shin Okja refused to admit her inability to provide Kim Dan with the tools he needed to navigate the world independently, because she needed him more than anything. He was supposed to take her burden, once he was an adult. The silence about the absence of his parents is quite telling. She would be forced to tell the truth how they came to vanish.

As for the champion’s guardian, he hid behind the veneer of toughness, refusing to acknowledge that his neglect, alcohol abuse and rigid philosophy of self-reliance were harmful. I am quite certain that he is responsible for the manager’s biased perception: “spoiled child”. (chapter 7) At the same time, it shows that by asking to defend himself, he pushed the athlete to become a “fighter”. He needed to demonstrate his strength and worth constantly. Choosing truth would have required him to admit that his emotional detachment stemmed from his own fears of vulnerability and inadequacy. Instead, he projected these insecurities onto his son, perpetuating a cycle of emotional isolation and avoidance.

Conclusion: The Restroom as a Mirror to the Past

The restroom is a seemingly mundane place, yet in Jinx, it takes on a profound duality, reflecting the psychological wounds of both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. For Kim Dan, it has long been a place of retreat (chapter 61), a shelter from external threats, a sanctuary where he could escape the ridicule and bullying of his past. For Joo Jaekyung, however, it represents something entirely different—an exposure of weakness, a space where he once cried as a child, likely subjected to ridicule or even physical harm. The restroom is where their pasts unconsciously collide, revealing how their respective traumas dictate their present behaviors and interactions.

For either of them to heal, they must first recognize how their pasts dictate their present. Kim Dan must learn that setting boundaries does not equate to abandonment, and Joo Jaekyung must realize that control and power are not the same as connection. Hence conversation is necessary. The restroom, once a place of refuge and exposure, may ultimately serve as a metaphor for change—a space where both men confront their wounds, not alone, but together.

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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: Bruised 🩸 by Choices, Bound By Sacrifice 😭

Exploring Kim Dan’s Psyche

In the complex narrative of Jinx, Kim Dan’s psyche is an intricate web woven from his upbringing, life experiences, and conditioned beliefs. Episode 61 serves as a focal point for understanding his internal struggles, particularly through the symbolic appearance of a bruise on his arm. (Chapter 61) However, this moment is not isolated—it reflects patterns in his personality that have appeared throughout the series. (Chapter 11) (chapter 18) This essay delves into the significance of Kim Dan’s physical and emotional bruises, examining how they symbolize his suffering, internal conflict and transformation. I will examine Kim Dan’s conflicted emotions surrounding gratitude and debt, contrasting his interactions with Joo Jaekyung and his grandmother, Shin Okja. Additionally, I will explore how Kim Dan’s conditioned identity as a caregiver drives his choices, even in his current living situation with the landlord, where he unconsciously replicates past dynamics. Ultimately, I will elaborate how Kim Dan’s newfound awareness could reshape his identity and relationships moving forward.

By comparing Episode 61 to earlier scenes, we can uncover recurring themes of sacrifice and rejection of help, shedding light on how Kim Dan’s mindset continues to perpetuate his suffering. This essay aims to unravel his internal contradictions, demonstrating how his struggles with gratitude, self-perception, and consent are deeply rooted in his past and manifest in his present relationships.

Bruised Flesh, Silent Cries

The bruise on Kim Dan’s arm in episode 61 (chapter 61) serves as a profound symbol of his neglect, overexertion, and silent suffering. More than just a physical injury, it reflects his exhaustion, malnutrition, and inability to recognize his own limits. Despite being a visible mark of his struggles, it goes unnoticed, until the champion, Joo Jaekyung, becomes the first to see it. (Chapter 61) His unexpected reaction catches Kim Dan off guard, further emphasizing how disconnected the doctor has become from his own well-being. However, contrary to the past (chapter 11), Kim Dan is truly responsible for the contusion. He caused the injury by removing the needle from the drip. (chapter 60) By taking this action, he absolved Joo Jaekyung of any responsibility for the injury, but this is merely a superficial conclusion. (Chapter 61) On the hand the circumstances surrounding the bruise, where Kim Dan removed the needle on his own, provide insight into his psyche. The deeper cause of the bruise lies in Kim Dan’s declining health, which is intrinsically connected to his malnutrition and the neglect he faces from those around him. It is important to recall that Joo Jaekyung was explicitly informed that Kim Dan needed rest (chapter 60). Yet, with his insistence, (chapter 61), he forced the physical therapist to keep working, adding even more strain than before. Though the physical therapist attempted to voice his disapproval, (chapter 61), he ultimately had no choice but to comply, as his order came from the hospice director. (Chapter 61) And why did the director override Kim Dan’s need for rest? Money and free PR. Joo Jaekyung’s influence secured the director’s approval, disregarding the doctor’s well-being in favor of business interests. This conversation at the director’s office makes one thing clear: words hold no power against profit. An d that realization led me to another connection—every one of Kim Dan’s bruises is linked to exploitation, whether by authority, obligation, or financial influence.

Chapter 11Chapter 18Chapter 43

To summarize, all his bruises were linked to money. In episode 11 and 18, it was related to the debts and the loan shark Heo Manwook. Then in episode 43 it was because of the expensive present Kim Dan wanted to offer to his boss and idol. However, notice that just before making the decision to offer a birthday gift, Kim Dan had been encouraged by his grandmother to show his generosity and gratitude towards the athlete. (Chapter 41) It is clear that she was inciting him to work harder than before. This displays that Kim Dan was not allowed to rest. During this encounter, she didn’t ask him about his well-being either. And what is the link between these 3 episodes? The grandmother and her poverty. The latter was responsible for the loan.

And because of money, Kim Dan never went on his own to the hospital in order to get treated. That’s how it dawned on me how the halmoni’s neglect could be exposed. No hospital or doctor has a file about Kim Dan as patient. When Shin Okja was transferred to the hospice, the hospice director and doctor received her patient file, hence he could make the following prognostics: she didn’t have much time to live. (chapter 56) Kim Dan has only visited the hospital once, and this was solely due to Joo Jaekyung’s intervention. The latter needed medical attention himself (chapter 18) and took Kim Dan along, ensuring he was seen as an emergency patient. However, this visit was brief and lacked any comprehensive medical examination—no blood samples were taken, and his underlying health concerns remained undiagnosed. This omission further underscores the neglect Kim Dan has suffered, as even in a medical setting, his long-term health issues were overlooked.

In other words, the moment the main lead’s health condition worsens and he is brought to the hospice, it is likely that the medical staff will seek details regarding his medical history. Given that he has never received proper care, they may turn to his grandmother, Shin Okja, for information about his past treatments and health status. And what did the old woman confess to the gentle and kind celebrity? (chapter 21) He had never been healthy and strong. Moreover, when he joined them, at no moment the senior asked if he had gone to the doctor, though he had been sick before. (chapter 21) But back then, the champion didn’t pay too much attention to it. In my opinion, her response will likely reflect her established pattern of emotional detachment and deflection of responsibility. Rather than admitting her lack of concern for his well-being, she may shift blame onto the staff or Kim Dan himself (chapter 57). In the last case, she will downplay the severity of his condition, insisting that he has always been stubborn and independent. She could even mention her conversation, when she tried to convince Kim Dan to return to Seoul, but the latter refused to listen to her.

Shin Okja might express surprise or even mild indignation at the idea that Kim Dan has been suffering in silence. She could feign ignorance, claiming that he never shared his struggles with her or that she assumed he was capable of handling his own affairs. Her response may also reveal an attempt to protect her own image, deflecting any potential criticism of her negligence. At the same time, she might subtly imply that Kim Dan’s health issues are the result of his own choices—his insistence on working tirelessly, his rejection of her past attempts to offer him food (chapter 5), or his general reluctance to ask for help. He rejected the athlete’s help and concern. (chapter 60) In addition, Jinx-philes should recall how the nurse 1 reacted to doc Dan’s dizziness and workaholism (chapter 57). She blamed the main lead, because she imagined that Shin Okja would worry about him. However, it becomes clear that the halmoni is not worried about her grandson at all. She is acting like a fan in front of the athlete. (chapter 61) One might argue that based on this scene, the grandmother didn’t see him with the bruise on his arm. (chapter 61) He only remained at the door. However, observe that there was a cut between this image (chapter 61) and the conversation between the main couple in front of the hospice. (chapter 61) So he could have made his presence known to his relative before asking Joo Jaekyung to follow him because of his treatment. To conclude, I believe that she had the time and occasion to see her grandchild and his bruise.

This confrontation with the hospice staff may serve as a pivotal moment, not only in exposing the extent of Kim Dan’s suffering but also in highlighting the grandmother’s true nature. If the medical professionals press further, requesting past medical records or details of where he had been treated, it will become evident that there is little to no documented history. She had never been worried about his health, since he was young. This realization could solidify the perception of Kim Dan as someone who has been neglected for years, forcing those around him—especially Joo Jaekyung—to reevaluate their understanding of his struggles.

And now, you know why Cheolmin is so important. (chapter 13) He is the only doctor who has ever examined the protagonist so closely and even paid attention to his fingernails! (chapter 13) At the same time, the chingu from the club was the first one pointing out that his wounds were never treated!! Furthermore, I realized that the doctor’s lies from episode 11 (chapter 11) could appear in a different light: he was not beaten by Heo Manwook, but he truly tripped on the stairs due to his weak constitution, a new version of this scene: (chapter 59) He would space out and even fall asleep at any moment.

Secondly, by contrasting these bruises, I noticed a pattern. First, it was the doctor’s left eye, then the right eye. The bruises on the eyes symbolized the doctor’s blindness. The latter had been avoiding reality. At the same time, the purple eyes exposed people’s sightlessness and indifference. Later the physical therapist injures his hands and knee, but no one intervened again. (chapter 43) They imagined that rest was the best solution, something the champion had heard from Cheolmin before. That’s why he listened to his manager’s suggestion. He let him sleep instead of urging him to eat something. He had heard that rest was crucial forgetting that Kim Dan was suffering from malnutrition. (chapter 13) The latter was the cause for the severe exhaustion. However, like mentioned above, the doctor is not blameless either, because he never questioned why his wounds on the hand were bleeding again. (chapter 43) He thought, it was related to the massage, yet the reality was that this incident showed that he had coagulation issues. To conclude, all the bruises could have always been noticed by people due to their locations (eyes, hands, arm)! (chapter 11) While the manager and Kwak Junbeom saw the injury and accepted the “excuse”, the nurses are now no longer paying attention to Kim Dan’s well-being contrary to the past. The bruise on the doctor’s arm reflects the staff’s neglect: they are not helping him. They are now more obsessed with handsome guys (chapter 61) and his relationship with Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 61) That’s how I recognized why these women’s warm welcome and curiosity about Kim Dan were rather superficial. (chapter 56) His arrival stands for novelty and a breath of fresh air at the institution. However, with this change, the female staff is forgetting their original duty: they need to pay attention to their colleagues. They are behaving like the grandmother (chapter 61): fangirling over the handsome guys visiting their little town. That’s why Mingwa drew flowers in the last two images. No wonder why no one around Kim Dan is observing the bruise and his deteriorating condition. Moreover, since the physical therapist has a relative at the hospice, the staff is envisioning that Shin Okja is doing “her work”, she is paying attention to Kim Dan’s mental and physical conditions. On the other hand, there is no doubt that the grandmother has already delegated her own responsibility onto others, Kim Dan and the hospice. It is a medical institution, therefore they should pay attention to his working conditions. In other words, since no one feels responsible for the protagonist’s health, no one is worried about Kim Dan at all. At the end of episode 61, he is even so pale and breathless (chapter 61) that I am anticipating a terrible incident leading to a rude awakening for everyone.

Furthermore, the bruise (chapter 61) also reflects Kim Dan’s personality—marked by his selflessness, deep-seated low self-esteem and sacrificing tendencies. His inability to prioritize his own well-being is a recurring theme throughout the story, and it is intrinsically linked to his perception of self-worth. Conditioned by his upbringing, he has internalized the belief that his existence is burdensome, reinforcing his tendency to endure pain in silence. The fact that he was never taken to a doctor only strengthened his negative self-perception—medical care was seen as an expense he was unworthy of, a burden his grandmother should not have to bear.

The doctor’s bruise and Shin Okja’s education

In reality, Shin Okja’s supposed sacrifices were not genuine acts of selflessness but a carefully maintained illusion. While Kim Dan grew up believing she had given up so much for him, the truth was that she consistently prioritized herself, shaping his perception of responsibility and guilt. By neglecting his health, she subtly ingrained in him the notion that he was undeserving of care, further reinforcing his compulsion to sacrifice himself for others. This duality—the physical fragility of his health and the emotional scars of a neglected childhood—underscores the profound symbolic weight of the bruise, marking not just his external injuries but also the wounds inflicted upon his psyche.

Furthermore, in Chapter 61, (chapter 61) Shin Okja offers her yogurt to Joo Jaekyung, expressing concern over his weight loss. This small act of care stands in stark contrast to her treatment of Kim Dan, who has visibly suffered from weight loss and paleness too. In season 2, she no longer asked him if he would eat or if he desired to eat the yogurts.

Her neglect does not merely stem from past interactions, such as when Kim Dan dismissed her offerings, claiming he was no longer a child. It is rooted in a deeper belief that her responsibilities toward him have ended. (chapter 47) For Shin Okja, raising him to adulthood marked the completion of her duty, and his current struggles are no longer her concern. This perspective becomes evident in her words from Chapter 57, where she tells him, he can’t stay here forever, and it’s not like he’ll stick around after she dies. (chapter 57) By declaring that Kim Dan is now responsible for his own life, she emotionally detaches herself, absolving herself of any accountability for his deteriorating condition. However, she is forgetting (chapter 56) that she is still relying on him, as he is the one paying her hospice bills. Besides, she still doesn’t know that the loan is no longer existent. It was, as if he had to clean up her mess before her death. At no moment, she asks about the loan or the doctor’s future. She is not thinking about his future at all.

Moreover, Shin Okja’s earlier acknowledgment of Kim Dan’s worsening health condition (chapter 57) —coupled with his refusal to heed her concerns (chapter 57) — reinforces her conviction that she has fulfilled her role. In her mind, his rejection of her advice places the burden of care entirely on him, allowing her to dismiss any further involvement. This emotional withdrawal directly connects to the symbolism of the bruise: (chapter 61) it signifies not only Kim Dan’s physical neglect but also the absence of meaningful support from those who should care for him. The bruise becomes a manifestation of his grandmother’s abdication of responsibility, leaving him to bear the weight of his sacrifices alone, even as his health visibly deteriorates.

The bruise also holds significance in the context of the debts. (chapter 18) In episode 18, when Joo Jaekyung confronts Kim Dan about the loan, the doctor has a bruise on his left eye, symbolizing his entrapment and helplessness. This earlier injury highlights how Kim Dan has been conditioned to view himself as responsible for burdens that are not his own, perpetuating a cycle of sacrifice and self-neglect. And a new bruise appeared just after the athlete reminded the physical therapist of his past promise: (chapter 61) His grandmother’s disregard for his well-being amplifies the injustice of this situation; she allowed him to shoulder the debt despite knowing it was never truly his to bear. The bruise becomes a recurring motif, a visual representation of how others have imposed their responsibilities on Kim Dan, leaving him physically and emotionally scarred.

Shin Okja’s role in Kim Dan’s life is pivotal in understanding his psyche. Her methods of control were often passive-aggressive, characterized by guilt-tripping and emotional manipulation. In flashbacks, we see her imposing adult responsibilities on Kim Dan at a young age, reinforcing the idea that he must grow up quickly to alleviate her burdens. This dynamic is exemplified in Chapter 47, where she remarks, “You still have a lot of growing up to do, don’t you?” (chapter 47) In Chapter 57, Shin Okja’s detachment becomes more evident as she advises Kim Dan to leave the hospice. (chapter 57) These words strip Kim Dan of any sense of belonging or familial connection, further isolating him. Her suggestion that he move on reflects her mental and emotional withdrawal from him, leaving him adrift. This detachment, however, creates an opportunity for Joo Jaekyung to step into her place. As Shin Okja relinquishes her hold over Kim Dan, Joo Jaekyung’s role in his life becomes increasingly significant. The question remains whether Joo Jaekyung will rise to the occasion, offering Kim Dan the emotional support and respect he has long been denied.

The Symbolism of the Setting

The hospice, Light of Hope, serves as a symbolic backdrop for Kim Dan’s journey. It represents both a place of healing and a stark reminder of his sacrifices (chapter 60). The juxtaposition of the vibrant environment with Kim Dan’s deteriorating health underscores the neglect he faces. The hospice is meant to be a sanctuary, yet it becomes a space where Kim Dan is further burdened by the champion and his grandmother’s expectations (chapter 61) and the weight of his past.

The setting also reflects the champion’s role in Kim Dan’s life. Joo Jaekyung’s presence at the hospice symbolizes a potential turning point (chapter 61), where Kim Dan might finally confront his suppressed emotions and begin to heal. However, the pivotal detail lies in where Joo Jaekyung first notices the bruise on Kim Dan’s arm—not within the hospice but outside, in front of the building. This distinction is significant, as it suggests that Kim Dan’s true healing will not occur within the confines of the hospice itself, but in the broader expanse of nature, away from the constructed sanctuary. It hints at a deeper connection to the natural world as a source of renewal and recovery, a theme subtly woven into Kim Dan’s earlier reflections.

The imagery ties back to Kim Dan’s own words about Joo Jaekyung: (chapter 55) This line “I finally feel like I can breathe again”, written by Kim Dan, reveals a subconscious acknowledgment that his relationship with the champion represents a breath of fresh air, a chance to escape the suffocating expectations and burdens he has carried for so long. The bruise, a physical manifestation of his struggle, signals the breaking point of his role as a selfless caregiver. It challenges the illusion of invulnerability that Kim Dan has maintained and forces those around him to confront his vulnerability.

Furthermore, this notion of healing outside the hospice aligns with the setting of Kim Dan’s unconscious cry for help—the beach. His suicidal disposition in that scene reflects a desperate need for release, a yearning for an escape that the structured environment of the hospice cannot provide. (chapter 60) The beach, with its open and untamed expanse, symbolizes freedom and a return to the self. It foreshadows that Kim Dan’s true journey toward healing will require him to step outside the roles and confines imposed upon him, finding solace not in what is expected but in what feels authentic and liberating.

The Burden of Debts and Sacrifice

Kim Dan’s relationship with the debts encapsulates his conditioned belief that he must bear burdens alone. (chapter 18) His grandmother, Shin Okja, played a significant role in this mindset by fostering the illusion that hard work and sacrifice would erase the debts. However, as revealed in episode 18, this was a lie. Shin Okja made the choice to take on the loan and not to seek help (chapter 5), yet she burdened Kim Dan with it, using his sense of duty and gratitude against him. Her statement in episode 57 (chapter 57) —“This place isn’t your hometown, and you don’t have any ties here”—further reinforces the emotional distance she has always maintained, treating him more as an obligation than family. However, she is forgetting that as a senior, she still has obligations towards her grandson.

Joo Jaekyung’s decision to pay off the loan (chapter 18) in Episode 18 introduces the theme of gratitude (chapter 18) —or, more accurately, the lack thereof. The champion’s actions were motivated by a desire to help (chapter 18), hence the star was waiting for a smile from Kim Dan. Yet the latter perceived it as meddling. His immediate response (chapter 18) —shock, disbelief, and rejection—revealed his inability to accept help. This reaction stems from his upbringing, where he was conditioned to equate self-worth with self-reliance. Even after moving into Joo Jaekyung’s penthouse, Kim Dan insisted on repaying the loan (chapter 53), leaving a note when he moved out that promises to settle the debt. However, by Episode 61, Kim Dan is no longer mentioning the debt, signaling a shift in his priorities and a possible breaking point in his adherence to his grandmother’s expectations. (chapter 61)

Kim Dan’s lack of gratitude toward Joo Jaekyung also stems from a deeper existential crisis. When the champion repaid the loan, he unknowingly deprived Kim Dan of what had become his sole purpose in life: assisting his grandmother. (chapter 47) The physical therapist’s entire existence had revolved around fulfilling her needs, from managing the debt to taking care of her health. With her now approaching death and actively pushing him away, Kim Dan is left grappling with a profound sense of meaninglessness. (chapter 60) He had never been given the opportunity to develop dreams or ambitions of his own, as his life was entirely defined by his grandmother’s circumstances. This lack of agency further explains his rejection of Joo Jaekyung’s generosity in Episode 18 and his later promise to reimburse the loan. Clinging to this promise was Kim Dan’s way of creating purpose and meaning in a life that had otherwise been dictated by others. It highlights how deeply entrenched his self-sacrificing tendencies are, as even his attempts to assert independence are rooted in his conditioned need to serve others. That’s why I come to the following prediction. Kim Dan needs to get confronted with illness and death (he could lose his life) so that his will for life comes to the surface. Right now, he imagines that since he is young, he will outlive his relative, but the death of the puppy was a warning to him that youth is no guarantee for a long life. (chapter 59) Death can take away anyone and at any moment. In my eyes, if Joo Jaekyung uses his own body to save the doctor again (like for example blood transfusion and CPR), this time Kim Dan would feel truly grateful towards the champion. So far, the doctor has not recognized the star as his savior yet. By removing the needle, he denied the protagonist’s intervention on the beach: (chapter 60) Hence his arm got bruised. The contusion was a reminder that something had happened during that night, but Kim Dan chose to ignore the incident. He never questioned why he was on the beach, he acted, as if Joo JAekyung had lied. (chapter 60)

The Hypocrisy of Gratitude

Kim Dan’s inability to express gratitude towards Joo Jaekyung is rooted in the hypocrisy of his situation. (chapter 18) Deep down, Kim Dan knows that the debt was never truly his responsibility, making it difficult for him to view the champion’s actions as a genuine act of kindness. This inner conflict is compounded by his suicidal disposition, which renders the concept of repaying the debt meaningless.

Additionally, Kim Dan’s relationship with gratitude is further complicated by his grandmother’s influence. Shin Okja used pity (chapter 53) and guilt to manipulate Kim Dan into fulfilling her wishes, framing his sacrifices as acts of love and duty. Her neglect and disregard for his well-being, even as he deteriorates physically and emotionally, highlight her selfishness. Through his past memories, readers can get a glimpse of his misery. (chapter 59) He worked so hard, was even beaten, but he could never voice his torment. (chapter 59) Why? It is because the grandmother was no longer by his side and she never talked to him either. The absence of communication indicates her lack of interest in Kim Dan. And it becomes comprehensible why during that night, he felt the need to go to the ocean and drown himself. It is because he was gradually realizing his loneliness. With his relative’s death, he would only keep living a terrible life determined by work and nothing else.

And because Kim Dan made the promise to the champion to reimburse him, it is clear why the fighter reminded him of the “unpaid debt” after their reunion. (chapter 60) (chapter 60) Since Kim Dan had not accepted the fighter’s generosity and even reaffirmed the need to pay back the “loan”, Joo Jaekyung imagined that his fated partner was very principled about money. The latter was used to drive an edge between them. However, the MMA fighter made a terrible mistake at the hospice. With his remark (chapter 60), he created the impression that he was impatient, expecting to be paid back, and as such his past generosity was in truth fake. He never desired to assist the doctor with this problem. And note that from that night on, the physical therapist is no longer bringing up the topic of the unpaid debts. (chapter 61) In my opinion, the physical therapist has now internalized that he is not responsible for the unpaid debts. It is only a matter of time, until Kim Dan confronts the fighter with his biased prejudices (chapter 11) and even uses his own words against him: (chapter 22) The loan was the result of his grandmother’s decision. He never helped him, rather his grandmother.

The dynamic between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung also reveals the former’s hypocrisy. Despite feeling trapped and powerless, Kim Dan had choices. He could reveal the truth to the athlete, when he begged for his help: (chapter 11) However, he never explained his circumstances to the generous athlete. By keeping him in the dark, he reinforced his negative disposition about the doctor. And chapter 61 exposes this reality. His suffering was the result of his own decision. (chapter 61) Do you recognize the room? That was the doctor’s (chapter 19) (chapter 53) His decision to allow Joo Jaekyung into his bedroom in episode 61 demonstrates that he consented to the relationship, even if begrudgingly. (chapter 61) However, his reaction afterward (regret) suggests that he struggles to take ownership of his choices. The fact that he recalled this sex scene in the restroom divulges a certain resent towards the athlete. The latter abandoned him right after their interaction. Hence I come to the following deduction. In reality, he is projecting his frustrations onto Joo Jaekyung, masking his true feelings about his grandmother, who is the root cause of his conditioned self-sacrifice. And this observation brings to my next remark. People wondered when this intercourse took place. One might think that this took place rather early in the story because of the way Joo Jaekyung acted. He didn’t remove his pants (chapter 61) and acted like in episode 6. (chapter 6) or 8 (chapter 8) where he would abandon the protagonist right after the climax and not care about his partner’s conditions and feelings: (chapter 61) I might be wrong, but for me, it took place much later in the story, around the time the athlete was about to face Alfredo. Why? First notice that they had sex in the doctor’s bedroom. This means that Kim Dan was already living in the penthouse. The words from the champion implied that he would return to his own bedroom, where the doctor’s thoughts implied that he was standing close to his bed. However, so far, they only had sex in the champion’s bedroom, when it was the evening before the match: (chapter 13) Since the doctor mentioned that a match was right around the corner (chapter 61) It leaves us four possibilities. Randy Booker, Dominic Hill, Alfredo (chapter 47) and Baek Junmin. However, for the intercourse took place in the doctor’s bedroom (he wished to be carried to his own bed) (chapter 61), I am already excluding Randy Booker. Secondly, this sex session can not have taken place before his match with Dominic Hill (chapter 36), for they had sex every day. However, in episode 53, we discover their night before the match against the Shotgun (chapter 53) So this scene can only have taken place in chapter 47, when the match with Angelo got canceled and Kim Dan had been confronted with the terrible news about his terminally ill grandmother. (chapter 47) In the previous part of this essay, my avid readers could see the strong parallels between 61 and 47. But there exists another reason why I am inclining to think that the sex scene took place later in the story. It is because during that “magical night” (44), Kim Dan learned the notion of “consent”. (chapter 44) During that blue hour, Kim Dan discovered that he could say no! And notice that in his memory, he clearly thought that he could have rejected the athlete’s advances. (chapter 61) The other reason for this theory is Park Namwook’s advice at the gym: (chapter 46) He should mistrust the members from the gym and keep his distance from people. So during that time, Joo Jaekyung did follow his hyung’s advice (chapter 47), yet I can’t imagine that this man could become abstinent like in episode 19. Hence at some point, he must have felt the urge to possess Kim Dan, a mixture of fear and dominance. He imagined that way that he could impose his will onto the doctor and control his “loyalty”. With this submission, he would force the doctor to remain by his side. But naturally, this sex as “power play” could increase the gap between the main leads.

Interesting is that in episode 53 (chapter 53) doc Dan was copying the champion’s behavior from episode 61. Right after the sex, he would leave the bed and return to his bedroom. How did Joo Jaekyung recall this night? (chapter 53) He saw his attitude as a sign of disloyalty and “abandonment”. And that’s how Kim Dan is feeling in the restroom: (chapter 61) The darkness around the eyes is a metaphor for his resent and anger. And the moment you contrast the two memories (53 and 61), you can detect the hypocrisy of the two main leads. They only recall scenes where they were hurt and felt betrayed. However, in reality, they were both victims and perpetrators, because none of them chose to open up and talk to each other. Why? It is because both chose to listen to their “guardian” and their “favor”. Like mentioned before, in a quarrel, no one is right and wrong. The purpose of an argument is to listen to the counterpart and view incidents from their perspective. Finally, the physical therapist’s recollection serves as an important evidence that he had never been powerless and helpless. He could have refused all the time because their deal was never official.He could have used the contract as a shield. But the best evidence of Kim Dan’s power is this rejection: (chapter 61) I had already pointed out the increasing resistance and resilience from Kim Dan in episode 60: (chapter 61) My prediction came true. In the past, he could have denied the existence of the deal, Joo Jaekyung was free to seek another physical therapist. He never realized that he had some leverage. Yet he still followed the athlete’s requests. He saw himself bound by obligations. However, this was just an illusion. Hence in episode 61, we see him legitimating his consent that there was an imminent fight. (chapter 61) This shows that he always used others to justify his choices. That way, he could portray himself as a dutiful and loving person, while his sacrifices would all go unnoticed.

The doctor’s fate: a reflection of Joo Jaekyung’s life

Kim Dan’s bruises are more than just marks of exhaustion and overexertion; they symbolize the way his body is used for the benefit of others. (chapter 61) He is expected to work despite his declining health, his suffering dismissed by those around him. (chapter 61) His well-being is secondary to business interests, whether it be the hospice director valuing money and PR over his need for rest or Joo Jaekyung imposing additional strain despite knowing better. Every bruise on Kim Dan’s body is a reflection of a system that prioritizes productivity over humanity.

This, however, mirrors Joo Jaekyung’s own existence. (chapter 40) He is paid to receive bruises, to push his body past its limits (chapter 50), to endure pain while the public watches and profits are made. His suffering is entertainment, a spectacle that fuels the business of MMA. Though he is a champion, he is still a commodity, expected to perform regardless of his condition. (chapter 61) He understands, better than anyone, what it means to be physically used for the sake of others, yet he remains blind to the fact that he has placed Kim Dan in the same position. While one has no file about his health condition, the other has many files, but they are not studied, because this would push the manager to question his decision and even ruin the business: (chapter 17) I doubt that Park Namwook studied them, and notice that the recently hired PT didn’t ask for the champion’s files first: (chapter 54) Thus I deduce that the champion’s files are in reality a subterfuge. They give the impression that the doctors and Park Namwook truly care for his well-being, but it is not correct. They are only interested in his body because of wealth and reputation. But let’s return our attention to episode 61 and the champion’s attitude towards Kim Dan.

The hypocrisy is undeniable. (chapter 61) Joo Jaekyung pressures Kim Dan to work through his pain, (chapter 61) despite living a life where he is forced to do the same. He became what he despised—someone who forces another to sacrifice their well-being for business. (chapter 60) The reality is, both of them exist in a world where their worth is determined by what their bodies can endure. Kim Dan’s value is measured by his ability to work, just as Jaekyung’s is determined by his ability to fight. They are both trapped in a system that demands their suffering for profit, used by those in power who see them as tools rather than individuals.

If Joo Jaekyung fails to recognize this parallel, he will only perpetuate the very cycle that has shaped his own pain. But if he does, it could be the key to not only freeing Kim Dan from this exploitation but also breaking himself out of the same cycle. The question remains: will he see the truth before it’s too late? (chapter 54) It is clear that the manager wants Joo Jaekyung to return to the ring as soon as possible to erase the last “debacle”. In my opinion, the doctor’s illness could serve Joo Jaekyung as an excuse to delay his return to the ring and even not to accept the next challenge.

A Caregiver’s Identity

Kim Dan’s choice to rent from an elderly landlord (chapter 57) is another manifestation of his conditioned role as a caregiver. By living with an older man, he creates the illusion of a familial bond, mirroring the dynamic he shared with his grandmother. This decision highlights his struggle to break free from the identity imposed on him—one defined by servitude and selflessness. He assumes that he should take care of the landlord, offering to cook and expressing guilt for not fulfilling this perceived duty. Yet, the landlord subtly challenges this narrative. By inviting Kim Dan to eat breakfast (chapter 57) and dismissing his apologies, the landlord treats him as an equal rather than a caretaker. This dynamic forces Kim Dan to confront his false perception of himself.

The landlord’s care, though understated, contrasts sharply with Kim Dan’s expectations. In Episode 57, the landlord observes Kim Dan’s declining health and attempts to address his drinking habits. (chapter 57) Despite this, Kim Dan rejects the advice, demonstrating his resistance to being cared for. This moment underscores his internal conflict—he craves independence yet clings to the role of the selfless provider. The landlord’s actions expose the fallacy of Kim Dan’s identity, revealing that his caregiving is not always necessary or effective.

Kim Dan’s Transformation: From Self-Sacrifice to Self-Awareness

Chapter 61 marks a significant shift in Kim Dan’s psyche—he begins to view himself with self-pity. That’s why he recalled the sex in the restroom. (chapter 61) He was not feeling well, yet the champion still demanded to have sex with him. (chapter 61) However, like pointed out above, he could have objected and even explained the situation. But no… he chose silence and submission in the end. This exposes the long internalized belief that Joo Jaekyung is stubborn and won’t listen or even get angry. Moreover, it is related to the grandmother’s education which privileged money, obedience, silence and taboo. However, the recollection (chapter 61) is indicating the increasing resent and anger towards the star. Joo Jaekyung is no longer seen as a celebrity and idol, but as a inconsiderate man. This transformation is subtle but meaningful, as it reflects his burgeoning awareness of his own worth and the unjust treatment he has endured. For the first time, Kim Dan acknowledges himself as pitiful (chapter 61), a clear departure from his habitual role of unquestioned self-sacrifice. This moment signals the emergence of a new identity, where Kim Dan starts “treasuring” himself, even if only as someone who deserves more respect than he has been given. In his recollection, he has a wish: to have a companion who would take care of him.

Kim Dan’s realization that he was not respected by Joo Jaekyung (chapter 61) parallels the emotional and mental detachment of Shin Okja. While his grandmother had long imposed the role of a caregiver upon him, (chapter 61) her current disregard for his health and well-being forces him to confront the fragility of his own existence. His bruised arm and poor health serve as physical manifestations of this awakening—he is no longer the tireless, invincible caregiver but a vulnerable human being who could fall gravely ill (chapter 61) or even abandon others first. (chapter 53)

The Emotional Transition: Joo Jaekyung’s Role in Kim Dan’s Life

This transformation in Kim Dan reflects a deeper narrative shift in Jinx: the exploration of self-worth and emotional reciprocity. It signals that relationships should not be defined by obligation and sacrifice alone but also by mutual respect and care. As Kim Dan begins to recognize his own worth, the dynamics of his relationships with both Shin Okja and Joo Jaekyung are poised to change dramatically. (chapter 61) This chapter sets the stage for a redefinition of Kim Dan’s identity (chapter 61), no longer bound by the roles others have imposed on him but shaped by his own choices and growing self-respect.

Shin Okja’s emotional detachment opens a door for Joo Jaekyung to step into her place, but this transition is contingent on Joo Jaekyung admitting his feelings for Kim Dan. (chapter 61) The physical reminder of Kim Dan’s poor health is not only a wake-up call for Joo Jaekyung but also for Kim Dan himself. It emphasizes that caregiving cannot define his identity entirely, and he too needs care and consideration.

This dynamic creates a powerful opportunity for growth in their relationship. If Joo Jaekyung is to fill the void left by Shin Okja, he must evolve from a figure of dominance to one of emotional support and genuine affection. Similarly, Kim Dan must shed the remnants of his belief that his only worth lies in what he can do for others. His growing self-awareness, catalyzed by his deteriorating health, paves the way for this mutual transformation.

The Role of Health as a Narrative Reminder

Kim Dan’s health, deteriorating as it is, serves a dual purpose. For Joo Jaekyung, it is a stark reminder of the consequences of his past neglect (chapter 13) and the fragility of Kim Dan’s existence. For Kim Dan, it challenges his self-perception as an indestructible caregiver. This realization could lead him to an inevitable conclusion: his own needs and well-being are just as important as those of others.

Ironically, this reversal also suggests a possibility that Kim Dan could be the one to abandon his grandmother first—not out of malice but as a natural consequence of his newfound understanding of his humanity. He wants to live, he doesn’t want to die now. His physical limitations and emotional exhaustion could compel him to prioritize his own survival over the expectations imposed on him, marking a definitive break from his past.

To conclude, Kim Dan’s deteriorating health presents a pivotal moment in his journey, marking a potential shift from mere survival to truly embracing life. His identity, long defined by caregiving and sacrifice, could face a profound challenge if his condition worsens, forcing him into a role of dependency. Joo Jaekyung’s role in this transformation could be equally transformative. Witnessing Kim Dan’s vulnerability might inspire the champion to step into the role of a true caregiver, fostering a deeper emotional connection between them. This shift would starkly contrast Kim Dan’s relationship with his grandmother, where care was one-sided and manipulative. Instead, it could establish a foundation of mutual respect and shared responsibility, breaking the cycle of transactional relationships that have defined Kim Dan’s past.

Ultimately, Kim Dan’s illness could become a catalyst for healing—not just physically but emotionally—for both him and Joo Jaekyung. It sets the stage for a relationship rooted in genuine care and respect, underscoring the broader theme of personal growth and the rediscovery of self-worth.

Conclusion

“Bruised by Choices, Bound by Sacrifice” encapsulates the complexities of Kim Dan’s character and his relationships. The recurring motif of the bruise serves as a powerful symbol of his struggles, reflecting both his physical pain and the emotional scars left by his upbringing. The debts, gratitude, and the hospice setting further illustrate how Kim Dan’s sacrifices have shaped his identity, forcing him to navigate a path filled with contradictions and unspoken resentments.

This examination also underscores the profound link between silence and sacrifice in Kim Dan’s journey. His suffering largely went unnoticed not just due to external neglect but because of his own choice to remain silent. Kim Dan never expressed his thoughts or emotions, choosing instead to endure in silence to avoid burdening his grandmother. Ironically, this silence was unnecessary, as Shin Okja herself was blinded by his youth, assuming that his vitality ensured he would outlive her. This assumption prevented her from recognizing his vulnerabilities, highlighting yet another layer of neglect in their relationship.

Through this lens, Kim Dan’s journey becomes a poignant exploration of the cost of selflessness and the courage it takes to reclaim one’s agency. His silence, once a symbol of sacrifice, now stands as a barrier he must overcome to truly heal and redefine his life on his own terms. By breaking free from the constraints of unspoken expectations and misplaced gratitude, Kim Dan’s transformation holds the promise of a future where his choices are guided by self-respect and a newfound understanding of his worth.

In earlier chapters, such as Chapter 57, Kim Dan’s landlord invited him to share breakfast, showing a degree of care and concern. However, Kim Dan deflected this gesture, maintaining his self-imposed role as a caregiver. In Chapter 58, despite sitting at a table with Heesung, Potato, and the landlord, Kim Dan’s disengagement from the meal—leaving most of the chicken untouched and avoiding the rice wine—highlighted his hidden struggles with both malnutrition and alcoholism. His deliberate avoidance of the rice wine reflects an effort to conceal his drinking habits, adding another layer to his isolation.

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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: A Luminous Kiss 😘💋 Amid Shadows 🫂

In Jinx, the evolution of Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan’s relationship can be traced through the symbolic use of kisses [for more listen to Kiss Me], specifically the one in the locker room (Chapter 15) and the life-saving kiss on the beach (Episode 60). Both moments carry significant emotional weight but reflect different facets of their dynamic, from selfishness to selflessness, secrecy to openness, and miscommunication to recognition. The setting and circumstances surrounding these kisses not only highlight the characters’ growth but also underscore the unresolved struggles they face.

Selfishness vs. Selflessness

The kiss in Chapter 14 and 15 was performed under the pretense of care but was marked by a sense of urgency and concern. Joo Jaekyung, lost in his thoughts and experiencing a form of derealization (chapter 14), acted particularly rough with Kim Dan (chapter 14), only snapping back to reality when he felt Kim Dan’s body trembling. (chapter 14) This moment of realization, coupled with the doctor’s tears and plea (chapter 14), served as the trigger for Joo Jaekyung to recall Cheolmin’s recommendation (chapter 14) of using foreplay and gentler methods, such as a kiss. While the kiss reflected care in the moment (chapter 14), selfish motives lingered in the shadows, as Joo Jaekyung sought to prevent causing visible harm that could lead to questions or even a scandal. It was, as if he wanted to silence his partner. Moreover, this decision was influenced by external suggestions, particularly from his friend, and not entirely by his own intentions. It was a calculated action to prevent immediate harm but lacked genuine emotional depth.

Interesting is that Kim Dan never dared to question Joo Jaekyung for this sudden kiss. (chapter 16) Moreover, he never wondered why Joo Jaekyung had asked for sex in the locker room, which represented a change in his behavior. If he had done it before, then he would have forced the physical therapist to travel with him to Busan. (chapter 13) As you can see, through the comparison with the kiss on the beach, I realized the doctor’s passivity and lack of critical thinking in season 1. He never asked why the athlete was so rough during sex. He took this for a normality. His attitude exposed the doctor’s biased perception of his boss: a spoiled and rough man obsessed with sex. I would even add that the kiss had a positive effect on the protagonist (chapter 15), because for the first time, Kim Dan made a request. With his remark, he implied that the kiss was strongly associated with emotions. However, exactly like Joo Jaekyung pointed out (chapter 15), the physical therapist omitted something important in the locker room. First, he didn’t share all his thoughts about the athlete, in particular his prejudices. Finally, he should have talked about his behavior before the kiss. What was he thinking, when he was having sex with him? In verity, he had been used as a substitute. In other words, the champion’s selfishness was rubbing on the doctor. Both were selfish, both had their heart and mind closed. And this remark brings me to the kiss on the beach.

In contrast, the kiss in Episode 60 (chapter 60) was executed purely for Kim Dan’s sake. It was a spontaneous, instinctive act of CPR to save his life, demonstrating selflessness and true concern. Unlike the locker room kiss, which carried both urgency and selfish motives, the beach kiss was entirely devoid of emotional connection, functioning solely as a technical gesture. Kim Dan was unconscious and unaware of the act, which stripped it of any emotional reciprocity. Here, Joo Jaekyung saw Kim Dan as a human being—detached from his social background and circumstances. This shift in perception is reflected in the location: the openness and natural beauty of the beach stand in stark contrast to the confined, artificial environment of the locker room. Joo Jaekyung’s willingness to perform this act in the open signifies a progression in his character—a gradual dismantling of his secrecy about his sexuality and his connection to Kim Dan. This shift from selfishness to selflessness illustrates not only Joo Jaekyung’s emotional growth but also the deepening of his bond with Kim Dan.

Secrecy vs. Openness

The locker room serves as a metaphorical closet (chapter 15), a confined space symbolizing Joo Jaekyung’s need to keep his relationships private. Picking up partners at a VIP club (chapter 33) was another extension of his desire to maintain secrecy. By contrast, the beach in Episode 60 is a public, open space, reflecting a significant shift. (chapter 60) Moreover, in the past, the locker room (chapter 14) was always filled with people surrounding the champion. However, once Kim Dan entered his life, this dynamic began to change. In Episode 14, Joo Jaekyung asked everyone to leave the locker room, (chapter 14) even excluding Park Namwook, who was even seen before stationed outside the bathroom door, (chapter 14) signaling a gradual exclusion of others from his private life and emotions. By Episode 15, Joo Jaekyung explicitly sent away his manager to have a private conversation with Kim Dan. (chapter 14) This shift highlights the increasing importance of Kim Dan in Joo Jaekyung’s personal sphere. Interestingly, this progression is contrasted by Episode 49, where Joo Jaekyung deliberately ensured (chapter 49) he was not left alone with Kim Dan. This means that this place was no longer the synonym for privacy and secret. This reflects why director Choi could intrude with his minions. Following the incident with the switched spray, Kim Dan was left behind (chapter 50) in the locker room twice (chapter 51), which could only increase the physical therapist’s feelings that he didn’t belong to Team Black. He was not part of that “family”. And this coincides with the moment where Kim Dan cries for the last time: (chapter 51) From that moment on, the main lead won’t show his vulnerability and pain to others. This gesture announces the return of his “blue friend”, the depression.

Moreover, keep in mind what the grandmother used to say constantly to her grandson: “Don’t cry” (chapter 57) Shin Okja must have felt uncomfortable with his tears and pain, therefore the doctor internalized not to show his struggling and burdens in front of his grandmother. This explicates why he denied his weeping in front of her first. (chapter 47) And now, you are wondering how this is relevant to the scene on the beach. Joo Jaekyung got shocked and scared, but he didn’t cry later and it is the same for Kim Dan. Hence the latter could deny his presence on the beach and even ignore the athlete’s words: (chapter 60) The absence of tears or a trembling body from the main leads indicate that both are hiding their emotions from each other. (chapter 60)

And because Kim Dan came to symbolize the fighter’s intimacy and privacy, it is no coincidence that their relationship ended in the locker room. There, the champion exposed his true thoughts about the doctor: his lack of professionalism, (chapter 51), his lack of loyalty, his greed and obsession for money. (chapter 51) Here, they were totally honest to each other: (chapter 51) Though the champion was restraining himself, he didn’t realize that his words were like punches to Kim Dan. The latter got to hear what he didn’t know. (chapter 51) Despite living together in the penthouse, he didn’t trust his room mate. After divulging his mistrust and anger to the physical therapist in the locker room, the former left Kim Dan behind and went to the health center with his hyungs. (chapter 51) What he didn’t realize is that the doctor stood for secrecy and closeness, so by leaving his side, he was destined to be exposed. (chapter 52) The conversation in the locker room symbolically announced the champion’s private struggles to the media, as his bad temper was made public shortly after.

Through these events, the kiss in the locker room becomes full of symbolism. It not only marked a moment of urgency but also served as an emotional awakening for Joo Jaekyung (chapter 15) , representing his need for mental and emotional support, which his team and entourage failed to provide. While the CPR kiss could be dismissed as a rescue, it symbolically represents a step toward Joo Jaekyung revealing his true self. The kiss marks a moment where he unconsciously begins to acknowledge his feelings and his homosexuality, even in a setting where others could witness it.

By contrast, the couple on the beach in episode 60 (chapter 60) was surrounded by nature. Hence they could show their true self: their exhaustion, desire and emotions. While the doctor was suicidal due to his depression and fatigue, the champion’s worries were genuine. Yet Kim Dan was not able to hear them. (chapter 60) This means that on the beach, Kim Dan could only detect one thing: Joo Jaekyung’s presence. But he didn’t sense his kisses and hear his words. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that this scene stands under the sign of “dream and illusion”. (chapter 60) Hence he came to reject his “intervention” as a lie and deception. The reality is that Joo Jaekyung does care for him, but he doesn’t know how to show it. He fears attachment. Because of his misjudgement, Kim Dan is not capable to notice the transformation in his former boss. . (chapter 60) The latter has now darker circles, and he lost a lot of weight. (chapter 49) His muscles are less pronounced. He is also wasting away.

This progression also ties to the concept of nature vs. artifice. The natural setting of the beach—the waves, the open sky—contrasts sharply with the sterile, artificial environment of the locker room. Nature brings out authenticity and raw emotion, whereas the locker room and the emergency room (chapter 60) reinforce control and suppression. In the locker room, the absence of time and space to relax or meditate highlighted the pressures placed on Joo Jaekyung by his manager and coach (chapter 14) (chapter 49), who believed that physical strength alone would solve his problems. This environment denied him the mental and emotional support he truly needed. (chapter 15) The kiss in Chapter 15 became a moment where Joo Jaekyung discovered not only physical pleasure but also positive emotions, which acted like a sweet candy, a reward for his hard work. (chapter 15) It gave him emotional support. It symbolized a rare moment of relief and connection amidst the overwhelming demands of his environment. Joo Jaekyung’s actions in these settings highlight his gradual move from a place of concealment to one of openness and authenticity. While the CPR kiss could be dismissed as a rescue, it symbolically represents a step toward Joo Jaekyung revealing his true self. (chapter 60) The kiss marks a moment where he unconsciously begins to acknowledge his feelings and his homosexuality, even in a setting where others could witness it.

Lies and Miscommunication

Another layer of complexity is revealed when examining the two kisses. From that wonderful night (chapter 44) on, Kim Dan never got kissed again. The absence of a kiss in the locker room was revealing Joo Jaekyung’s lack of faith in Kim Dan. His mistrust left such an emotional wound, which is only visible to the third eye. (chapter 54) Because Joo Jaekyung saw it in a vision, it becomes clear that the athlete is still in denial about his wrongdoing. Therefore he didn’t apologize for his false accusations and his bad perception of the physical therapist: (chapter 60) By admitting that he knows about his innocence, he imagines that he can get scott-free. But he is wrong. His skepticism and dismissiveness wounded Kim Dan’s heart and mind, leaving scars that reverberate through their future interactions. Kim Dan can no longer trust him now (chapter 60) , though there is no doubt that the doctor is still in love with him. At the hospice, this mistrust resurfaces. The parallel conversations—in the locker room and the emergency room—highlight the ongoing cycle of miscommunication and emotional disconnect. Both characters, in their own way, lie to themselves and each other. Joo Jaekyung sees Kim Dan through the lens of poverty and greed (chapter 60, reducing his identity to his need for money, while Kim Dan rejects his offer, his help and conceals his pain. It is not surprising that Kim Dan left the treatment room. (chapter 60) By doing so, he is denying his rescue and assistance. It was, as if this night and as such the kiss had never happened.

The beach, however, offers a stark contrast. There, in the midst of the emergency, Joo Jaekyung’s perception of Kim Dan shifts. For the first time, he sees him as a human being—vulnerable and in need of genuine care. (chapter 60) The lies and miscommunication fade in the face of the life-and-death situation. However, this recognition is short-lived, as the events at the hospice reveal Joo Jaekyung’s lingering selfishness (chapter 60) and inability to fully comprehend the seriousness of Kim Dan’s mental and physical state.

Kim Dan as Joo Jaekyung’s Reflection

Episode 60 also underscores the parallels between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. Both characters are struggling and mistreating their bodies, albeit in different ways. Kim Dan’s rejection of help and his deteriorating condition mirror Joo Jaekyung’s past behavior of ignoring medical advice and pushing himself to extremes. This dynamic serves as a reflection, forcing the champion to confront his own flaws. Kim Dan’s condition becomes a metaphorical mirror, showing Joo Jaekyung the consequences of neglecting physical (chapter 27) and mental well-being. (chapter 27) When Kim Dan removed the needle carelessly (chapter 60), he was actually copying his lover’s behavior.

The dissociation and derealization evident in Kim Dan’s behavior further highlight his mental fragility. This fragility contrasts sharply with Joo Jaekyung’s reaction during their interaction at the hospice. When the champion angrily asks, , his words reveal frustration and a superficial understanding of the situation. Rather than addressing the underlying psychological distress driving Kim Dan’s actions, Joo Jaekyung perceives them as reckless behavior. His focus remains on immediate danger rather than the deeper cause, showcasing his emotional detachment and inability to grasp the full seriousness of Kim Dan’s mental state. This misinterpretation underscores how Joo Jaekyung is still projecting his own coping mechanisms onto Kim Dan, assuming that sheer willpower and physical strength can resolve emotional struggles. This moment serves as a stark reminder of Joo Jaekyung’s ongoing growth and the gaps in his understanding of Kim Dan’s suffering. His denial of having gone to the beach, despite clear evidence, points to the depth of his trauma. (chapter 60) That’s why I can’t shake the feeling that the physical therapist is still in danger. The trail of blood on the floor could be interpreted as a bad omen. (chapter 60) Many Jinx-philes saw parallels between the champion’s departure from the locker room with the final image from chapter 60, (chapter 51) However, in the last image, the athlete had left the room to go to the health center, while Kim Dan is now leaving the treatment room, a sign that he is not just rejecting the champion’s help, but also the hospice’s intervention. (chapter 60) So he could get into trouble in his profession.

This moment becomes a turning point for Joo Jaekyung, as he is about to grasp the gravity of Kim Dan’s mental illness. However, his focus on money and material solutions (chapter 60) at the hospice contrasts sharply with the purity of his actions on the beach, underscoring his ongoing struggle with selfishness and superficiality.

As long as Joo Jaekyung hides his vulnerability and hides his true self to achieve his goal, Kim Dan will mirror his actions. He will deceive him too. However, we shouldn’t see their separation (chapter 60) at the end of episode 60 as something negative. How so? It is because Kim Dan never said this: (chapter 51) He never wished to never see Joo Jaekyung again. Moreover, he never regretted their meeting either. (chapter 60) And now, pay attention to his hand, he is slightly clenching his fist, a sign that he is pained while saying this: “Have a safe trip home!” The word “home” and his gesture display that deep down, he was happy to see him. He is longing for home, but he can not express his true desire. Thus I deduce that Joo JAekyung’s words in front of the restaurant must have moved his heart: (chapter 43) No wonder why he thought that it was time to get to know the fighter during that night: (chapter 44)

On the other hand, by utilizing the word “home”, he is implying that the fighter doesn’t belong here. The doctor is actually mimicking his own grandmother. (chapter 57) (chapter 57) However, Jinx-philes should detect the divergence: she is not using the word “home”, but Seoul. That’s the reason why in the end, Shin Okja’s confession to her grandchild will come back to bite her, as she described her own grandson as a stranger in this little town. It was, as if he had been an orphan all his life. He had no home all along.

And because of the doctor’s words, it is clear that Joo Jaekyung won’t return to Seoul. He just needs to stay by his side in order to gain his trust. The longer the fighter stays in that place, the longer he will be able to detect the deceptions surrounding the doctor: (chapter 58) Where are the parents? Who is the man where he is staying? Where did he plan to go after his stay there? The idiom “temporarily” could be perceived as an evidence that the doctor plans to end his life. According to my interpretation, Heesung believed that the landlord was Kim Dan’s grandfather. He was just denying his origins out of shame.

One thing is sure. Because of the doctor, Joo Jaekyung will be forced to admit that home is where the physical therapist is. With his goodbye, Kim Dan was challenging his former boss , (chapter 60) a new version of this scene. (chapter 9) The athlete has now every reason to stay there and that’s how he will discover all the doctor’s secrets and misery.

Conclusion

The kisses in Jinx are more than just physical acts; they are symbolic markers of Joo Jaekyung’s emotional journey and his evolving relationship with Kim Dan. The locker room (chapter 15) kiss represents selfishness, secrecy, and miscommunication, while the beach kiss (chapter 60) signifies selflessness, openness, and recognition. However, both kisses, initiated by Joo Jaekyung, were not truly expressions of deep love or genuine emotional pleasure. As technical gestures borne out of urgency and care, they left no lasting emotional trace in their relationship.

This lack of emotional permanence highlights the characters’ ongoing struggles. While Joo Jaekyung shows signs of growth, he has yet to fully understand or confront the complexities of Kim Dan’s mental and emotional state. Similarly, Kim Dan’s passivity and silence in earlier moments underline the barriers that remain between them. Trapped in his own misery, he fails to see the physical deterioration from his former idol. The juxtaposition of these kisses serves to illustrate the fragility of their bond and the slow, uneven process of their personal and relational evolution. Through these moments, the author masterfully portrays the intersection of urgency, care, and miscommunication, ultimately crafting a nuanced exploration of healing and connection amidst shadows. Once again, it exposes the importance of honesty and clear communication in a couple.

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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 Mermaid’s🧜‍♂️🧜‍♀️ Illusion of Love 💝 (second version)

Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid offers a nuanced exploration of love, conditional relationships, and the struggle for independence. In a previous essay, The Painful Mermaid’s Aspiration, I explored parallels between Andersen’s tale and Jinx, focusing on themes of sacrifice and transformation. However, deeper analysis has revealed additional layers to these parallels, particularly in the dynamics of conditional love, independence, and the pursuit of dreams, which merit further exploration here. The little mermaid’s yearning is expressed poignantly in her dialogue with her grandmother:

This statement reflects the mermaid’s desperation and her willingness to sacrifice everything for her dream. The old woman’s response highlights the impossibility of her aspiration without absolute devotion from the prince:

The unattainable condition imposed by the old woman underscores the imbalance in the mermaid’s love. The grandmother’s description of the prince’s hypothetical love suggests it would transcend familial bonds, symbolizing a selflessness so profound that he would give a part of himself to his partner. However, this ideal of love contrasts sharply with the mermaid’s sacrifices, as in verity her yearning for the prince is intertwined with her desire for an immortal soul. Her physical attributes, cherished in her own world, are deemed unattractive on land, symbolizing the rejection of her true self. Her conditional love requires her to give up her voice, her identity, and even endure physical pain. This duality—a love that demands selflessness yet is rooted in conditional aspiration—reveals the inherent imbalance in her quest for acceptance and fulfillment. The matriarch’s final remark—“Let us be happy and dart and spring about during the three hundred years that we have to live, which is really quite long enough; after that we can rest ourselves all the better”—urges the mermaid to embrace her current existence rather than chase an impossible dream. However, if she had followed her grandmother’s advice, she wouldn’t have truly lived at all, for she has always been feeling miserable deep inside.

This tension between illusion, aspiration and self-acceptance mirrors the emotional struggles in Jinx, particularly the relationships between Heesung, Potato, and Kim Dan. Moreover, as I delved deeper into the story, I realized that Andersen’s fairy tale carries an even more poignant message: dreams, while often a source of aspiration, can also be illusions that shatter upon collision with harsh realities, like for example the broken promise (“The prince said she should remain with him always“) from the prince who denied the existence of death in their life. This essay builds on these reflections, delving deeper into the overlooked dimensions of dependency and conditional love, revealing how these dynamics shape the characters’ paths toward independence and self-realization. The little mermaid’s yearning, intertwined with her desire for an immortal soul and as such for her own identity, mirrors the characters’ pursuit of validation and dreams, often at the cost of their individuality. Like the mermaid, these characters grapple with the conflict between their dreams and the realities of conditional relationships. While Andersen’s tale portrays the little mermaid’s yearning for the prince and the human world as both a source of aspiration and tragedy, Jinx reinterprets these themes through the lens of modern relationships, showing how dependency and idealization can hinder self-discovery and fulfillment. The parallels extend further, as each character’s journey reveals deeper truths about love, independence, and personal growth.

The Illusion of the Prince: Joo Jaekyung and Potato

In The Little Mermaid, the prince represents the little mermaid’s idealized dream of the human world. However, her love for him is deeply intertwined with her desire for an immortal soul. This duality—a mix of genuine affection and conditional aspiration—renders her relationship with the prince inherently unbalanced.

Similarly, Joo Jaekyung serves as an illusion in Potato’s life. (chapter 23) Potato initially admires the champion, aspiring to be like him (chapter 23) and dreaming of recognition as his sparring partner. (chapter 23) Joo Jaekyung, much like the prince in Andersen’s story, projects an image that masks the reality of his life. His success, while celebrated, represents years of hard work and immense personal sacrifices. At the gym, Park Namwook undermines these efforts by slapping the athlete (chapter 7) and calling him “my boy,” (chapter 40) effectively denying Joo Jaekyung the acknowledgment he deserves for his achievements. Potato is misled by this fabricated image (chapter 23), drawn to the champion’s public persona rather than understanding the struggles beneath it. Moreover, Joo Jaekyung can also be viewed as a mixture of both the prince and the mermaid, embodying the illusion of grandeur while simultaneously bearing the silent pain of sacrifice and transformation. This duality deepens the parallels between Andersen’s tale and Jinx, highlighting the complexities of admiration, dependency, and self-realization. To conclude, this admiration is rooted in superficial qualities: Joo Jaekyung’s public persona, his success, and the light he projects to the world. Furthermore, Potato’s physical differences—his smaller frame and lighter weight category—highlight the impossibility of truly becoming like Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 23) This realization mirrors the little mermaid’s struggle to reconcile her nature as a seductress of the sea with her dream of becoming human.

Potato, drawn to this carefully curated public persona, aspires to emulate the champion (chapter 23) without understanding the profound struggles beneath his image, failing to perceive Joo Jaekyung’s unhappiness, struggles, and loneliness. Like the image is exposing it, Potato views the athlete as a companion as well whose efforts should serve to keep him company. This dynamic mirrors the little mermaid’s conditional love for the prince, as Potato’s idealization is rooted in his own aspirations rather than genuine understanding. Just as the prince remains oblivious to the mermaid’s sacrifices, Potato overlooks the reality of Joo Jaekyung’s burdens, emphasizing a dependency that hinders true recognition and connection. Once his reputation as a champion is tarnished (chapter 52), the amateur starts distancing himself from his former idol. This exposes the fragility of Potato’s dream. Therefore it is not surprising that he starts taking a different path: acting, though I still think, it is temporary. However, behind the glamorous facade of the show business, there exists a dark side as well. (chapter 59) Heesung’s fate is similar to the champion’s. Despite his popularity, the actor is deeply unhappy. He feels lonely, for people only know the actor and not the man behind the mask. That’s the reason why he is looking for his soulmate. (chapter 33) That’s how I realized why Potato and Heesung are destined to be together. They are both self-centered, dishonest and blind, but more importantly they are chasing after an illusion which is strongly intertwined with immortality. In addition, my avid readers should keep in mind what Potato truly expressed, when Mingwa introduced this “chow chow”. (chapter 23). In reality, he wanted to use the athlete as his servant. The closeness (chapter 23) he was seeking was self-serving. While the amateur and the actor are searching for the “perfect companion”, the other couple has no expectation from others. They both have no longer any dream or hope. That’s the reason why Kim Dan was putting this vision of Joo Jaekyung behind a veil: (chapter 58) He was giving up on his dream expressed in the birthday card, (chapter 55) though I believed that he had another bigger wish, but due to his low self-esteem, he didn’t dare to express it: (chapter 55) My newest theory is that he wanted Joo Jaekyung to teach him fighting, but not for himself, but in order to help the fighters and in particular to protect the champion’s body: (chapter 25) (chapter 25) To develop a training where injuries are minimized. In season 2, it is clear that Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan have reached the bottom. Both feel empty and exhausted. They were crushed by harsh reality, and they had no one by their side to listen to their pain. Therefore it is not astonishing why the doctor could not confide to the actor and the amateur fighter. They arrived too late. (chapter 58) Their presence definitely diverted the doctor’s attention, lessening his pain.

Initially, Potato views the champion as an infallible figure, a symbol of success and strength. However, his perception begins to shift as he confronts the realities of the MMA world and his own identity. Potato’s loss of innocence is closely tied to the discovery of secrets. In Episode 25, (chapter 25) he learns the true nature of the relationship between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. This revelation forces him to confront his own repressed feelings, as he unconsciously realizes his attraction to the fighter. (Chapter 25) Heesung’s involvement further complicates matters, as Potato confesses his love for Joo Jaekyung (chapter 35) while simultaneously vowing to sacrifice his feelings for the sake of the couple’s happiness. This act demonstrates Potato’s pure and selfless definition of love, (chapter 35) contrasting with the conditional love depicted in Andersen’s tale.

However, Potato’s understanding of love remains naive. He fails to grasp the distinction between love and physical relationships, unaware of the darker realities of one-night stands and transactional connections. (Special episode 1) His discovery of sports gambling (chapter 52) and the switched spray the (chapter 52) which is strongly intertwined with the departure of disloyal members from Team Black marks another step in his journey toward disillusionment. While Potato initially views this as an isolated incident, it exposes the broader corruption within the MMA world, including the betrayal, greed, and lack of loyalty that undermine its integrity. While he views himself as loyal to doc Dan and Team Black, for he remained at the gym, his heart was not. He is becoming like his hyungs, Park Namwook and Heesung. In Andersen’s tale, the mermaid’s journey to the sea witch represents a pivotal moment of transformation. By sacrificing her voice and enduring physical pain, she gains entry into the human world, but at the cost of her identity. Similarly, Potato’s journey is marked by painful discoveries that force him to confront uncomfortable truths. Through Kim Dan, he will begin to see his own flaws before he is able to recognize them in those he once trusted.

Heesung and Conditional Love

In the fairy tale, the prince represents the mermaid’s idealized dream—a vision of love and immortality. However, the prince’s love is conditional and superficial. While he admires the mermaid’s devotion and affection, he remains blind to her true identity and sacrifices. This dynamic is epitomized in his words:

The prince’s affection is rooted in comparison and memory, not in genuine understanding. And that’s exactly how the actor is thinking. He compared his sex partners to his ideal.

Heesung embodies the concept of conditional love in Jinx. (chapter 33) He can only love his soulmate, and the latter has to be perfect. By seeking perfection in his “soulmate”, he doesn’t realize that he is exposing his darkness and inhumanity. How so? It is because imperfection defines humans. He is denying the existence, error is human. Funny is that his fated partner embodies mistake and imperfection! (chapter 23) (chapter 25) (chapter 35) The latter doesn’t mind breaking social norms by yelling or causing a fight at a restaurant. But let’s return to the actor’s confession at a bar. It’s not surprising that Heesung appears indifferent to the affection of those who cared for him. The last partner was described as too clingy. This means that Heesung places himself as the judge. In addition, it was, as if he was a god destined to live forever. He is forgetting his human condition, just like his partner’s. And that’s exactly how the prince in The Little Mermaid views life.

For him, it looks like death or change don’t exist, though he doesn’t realize that his fate got changed through the intervention of the mermaid. Had she not rescued him, he wouldn’t have been able to have a companion and a wife. His perfect happiness is paid by the efforts and sacrifices of others. He is surrounded by beautiful slaves who have no voice and as such no freedom:

Through this quote, readers can grasp why the prince didn’t see the mermaid as a possible love interest. She was not his equal socially. Therefore it is not surprising that he chose to have an arranged marriage. I would even add that her voicelessness is viewed as a sign of stupidity, because she can not express her opinion. She is forced to follow the prince’s requests. The prince’s failure to recognize the mermaid’s true nature and the depth of her sacrifices underscores the fragility of dreams built on illusions. His promises, though well-meaning, are symbolic of fleeting ideals that crumble under societal and familial pressures. We could say that in the end, he refuses to become responsible for the mermaid.

And this remark brings me back to Heesung and his relationship with Potato: (special episode 1) With this request, he implies that he will never become responsible for the amateur fighter. Therefore he can hide his homosexuality behind the young fighter. He used Potato’s mistake to his advantage. (special episode 1) By asking Potato to take care of all his needs and desires, Heesung placed himself in a position where he had power and could control Potato. That’s how the young fighter made a dangerous deal with the gumiho. No wonder why his sex role play was a prince interacting with a guard. (special episode 2) Hwang Yoon-Gu didn’t realize that by taking responsibility for the actor, he lost his freedom and as such his voice. Is it a coincidence that Mingwa portrayed the young maknae as someone who would raise his voice due to his emotions in the past? (chapter 25) (chapter 35) No, and it becomes obvious that when he is reunited with Kim Dan, (chapter 58) his behavior is totally different than with the actor: (chapter 58) Tears, touch, raising his voice with Kim Dan, but not with the comedian. With the actor, he looks more calm, distant and mature. Heesung’s selfishness is evident in his treatment of Potato, whom he manipulates into becoming an extension of his own image. Hence he is no longer wearing shorts and tee-shirts. (chapter 59) One might say that he is gradually elevating Potato’s status through his suggestions. (special episode 2) By encouraging Potato to work as an actor and shaping him into a version of himself, Heesung prioritizes his own desires over Potato’s individuality. He is not asking what Potato’s true dream is. But this was his dream originally: (chapter 23) The problem is that in the past, he was too passive, waiting for the right opportunity. (chapter 23) Why? It was due to his low self-esteem. (chapter 23) He was not confident enough, for he was the only one with such a weight-category.

And why did the prince suggest Potato to become an extra? On the one hand, it was an easy way to make money, on the other hand, Heesung didn’t want to reveal his true thoughts. He desired a companion by his side too. However, giving him the opportunity to be an extra, Potato could get criticized that he got this acting job through connections. And this reminds me of the little mermaid, who received people’s admiration and the prince’s superficial admiration, yet in reality, the latter had no one by her side to talk about her pain. She was never given a name or a status, her position was defined by her relationship with the prince.

Potato’s growing dependency on Heesung reflects the little mermaid’s surrender of her voice and identity for the prince. In both cases, the individual sacrifices their true self for a love that is neither reciprocal nor nurturing. The prince might have developed an affection for the mermaid, but he never recognized her as worthy to be his bride. I believe that this gesture (special episode 2) played a huge influence in Potato’s decision to take the offer as an extra. It was, as if one of his dreams had come true. But is this what he truly wanted?

Heesung’s refusal to wait for Potato after leaving Kim Dan (chapter 58) underscores his indifference, symbolizing the unbalanced dynamic in their relationship. Like the prince, Heesung offers no genuine commitment, leaving Potato to grapple with the consequences of his dependency. Thus I perceive Potato’s tears (chapter 59) as a signal that he is not truly happy. (chapter 58) However, this is about to change. Heesung who likes novelty and change is not realizing that his wish is becoming true. The picture with his last work announces the end of his “friendship” with Potato. How so? (chapter 58) The actor chose to become responsible for hiding information from Joo Jaekyung. And he used the mermaid Kim Dan for his decision. He created the impression that he truly cared for the main lead. And how did the prince react to the vanishing of the mermaid? He got caught by surprise and definitely hurt.

He realized too late that his marriage could have consequences with his relationship with the voiceless mermaid. Through her vanishing, she actually revealed her independence and expressed her thoughts. She was not the prince’s eternal companion. She was an independent human being.

Kim Dan: A Mirror to the Little Mermaid

Kim Dan’s experiences parallel the little mermaid’s journey in profound ways. Raised in an environment defined by conditional love, (chapter 53) Kim Dan learned to prioritize the needs of others over his own. His grandmother’s reliance on him mirrored the traditions and expectations imposed on the mermaid by her underwater world. Just as the little mermaid longed for the human world’s light and freedom, Kim Dan yearned for an escape from his oppressive circumstances.

The death of a puppy in Jinx adds another symbolic layer to these parallels. (chapter 59) Kim Dan once referred to Potato as a puppy (chapter 29), drawing a connection between the character’s innocence and loyalty. (chapter 59) However, Potato’s departure reveals an underlying superficiality and disloyalty—he merely asks Kim Dan to call him when he visits Seoul, failing to acknowledge the depth of their bond. This reminded me of the prince’s fake promise:

He is here actually mimicking Heesung’s behavior who had made a similar offer to the physical therapist: (chapter 35) This shows that Heesung has long internalized this pattern: assistance will be only given, if he is called. That’s why he has no true friend in the end. He shows no interest in others. But by doing so, he is putting the whole responsibility on his counterpart. Through the actor and the manager’s behavior, the former errand boy has long adopted this pattern. Hence he didn’t call Kim Dan in the end. He waited for a signal from his part. This behavior mirrors the little mermaid’s sisters, who only realize her absence when it is almost too late to act. Similarly, Potato’s casual farewell highlights a betrayal of Kim Dan’s friendship, further emphasizing Potato’s struggle with emotional awareness. That’s why I mentioned above that Potato is about to discover his true nature: he is also a sinner. This growth parallels the biblical narrative of Adam and Eve, where the acquisition of knowledge leads to the loss of innocence. Heesung, like Eve, introduces Potato to a new world of experiences, including his sexual orientation. However, this newfound knowledge comes with its own burdens, as Potato must reconcile his identity with the harsh realities of the world around him.

This raises the following question: what if Potato blocks Heesung’s phone number after their break up or argument? (chapter 5) Heesung could no longer express his needs and desires.

The death of the puppy, occurring shortly after Potato’s departure, symbolizes a loss of innocence and marks his transition into adulthood. Yoon-Gu is slowly becoming a new version of Joo Jaekyung, he hides things from Oh Daehyun and the other hyungs. He is blinded by the smiles and gentle gestures of the gumiho. Naturally, there’s no doubt that Heesung is falling in love with the maknae. The latter has become the perfect lover, but his dream is about to get crashed by reality. (chapter 58) Just because one is happy, this doesn’t mean that the other is. For that to happen, communication and honesty are necessary.

(chapter 59) This event underscores the contrasting paths of Joo Jaekyung and Potato. While Joo Jaekyung is forced to give up his principle of “self-reliance,” (chapter 59) Potato’s journey is to discover and embrace the principle of “self-reliance” and autonomy. Only when Potato becomes independent in his thoughts and decisions, can he truly help the main couple.

So far, Potato has relied heavily on the guidance and judgment of others: his hyungs, Park Namwook, Yosep, and Heesung. This dependency is evident when contrasting his behavior in episodes 47 (chapter 47) and 52. Initially, he believed in his hyungs’ description of Joo Jaekyung as a thug, but later he criticized the same fighters for abandoning the athlete (chapter 52), accusing them of lacking loyalty and dismissing their claim that they had nothing to learn from him. Yet, in episode 52, Potato does not reproach Park Namwook or Yosep for their passivity and naivety, (chapter 52) instead solely blaming Joo Jaekyung for not trusting Kim Dan and causing his departure. This selective criticism reveals that Potato still views the older men as inherently good and fails to recognize his own shortcomings. In this way, he mirrors Park Namwook’s superficial loyalty, further emphasizing his dependence on external validation.

Another significant detail is Potato’s absence during the birthday party, where Park Namwook expressed gratitude toward Kim Dan. (chapter 43) This absence highlights how Potato has missed key moments of reflection and acknowledgment, which are essential for his growth. It suggests that Potato is destined to detect the flaws in his hyungs—Park Namwook, Yosep and Heesung’s superficiality, passivity, hypocrisy and selfishness—before he can achieve true independence and contribute meaningfully to the lives of Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan.

Kim Dan’s attentiveness to Potato’s emotions (chapter 23) —taking over his tasks and noticing his unhappiness (chapter 25) —demonstrates his capacity for genuine care. This contrasts sharply with Heesung’s selfishness and serves as a reminder of the value of mutual support in relationships. Potato’s potential return to the place where he met Kim Dan could symbolize a rediscovery of authentic connections, marking the beginning of his path toward independence and self-realization.

Independence and Rediscovery of Dreams

The little mermaid’s transformation into a daughter of the air signifies her liberation from heartbreak and physical pain. While she loses the prince, she gains something far more significant: a purpose independent of him. Her ascension represents the realization that true fulfillment comes from within, not from external validation. (chapter 58) Notice that Potato is embarrassed here, a sign that he is not happy. And he has a reason for that. Neither Heesung nor Yoon-Gu are coming out, they are still following social norms which reminds us of the prince’s marriage. Furthermore, when the actor is complimenting on Potato’s acting, the latter doesn’t acknowledge it, because deep down he knows that he got this gig through Heesung and their relationship (chapter 58) And like mentioned above, this could become a serious problem for Yoon-Gu. He could be perceived as someone selling himself for a gig. And Heesung is not even realizing the consequences of his intervention and meddling. That’s why it is important for Yoon-Gu to become independent. This lesson resonates with Potato’s journey in Jinx. By recognizing Heesung’s selfishness and breaking free from his influence, Potato has the potential to rediscover his own dreams and individuality. Like Erich Fromm mentioned it, true love is respect, care, knowledge and responsibility. However, Heesung has no idea about the importance of these notions, as everything is evolving around his own needs and dreams.

Besides, if Potato’s dream is still to seek wealth and fame like in the past (chapter 23), he should be aware of the danger in the MMA world, like for example death and bad injuries. Moreover, if we take into consideration that he wanted to be like his role model, it signifies that Yoon-Gu associates fortune and celebrity with happiness which is a real illusion, like Heesung and Joo Jaekyung’s hidden misery and loneliness expose it. But I doubt that the actor ever talked about Yoon-Gu about it.

Finally, Yoon-Gu hasn’t met his former idol yet, so he was not able to see his suffering: (chapter 58) That’s how it dawned on me that little by little Yoon-Gu had been losing his senses: (chapter 31), his smell, then his ears (chapter 52) and finally his eyes: (chapter 58) He forgot the danger coming from Heesung’s words, he could not hear the suffering from the champion due to his bias, and finally he couldn’t see Kim Dan’s distress due to his own feelings and prejudices. We could say that because of the influence from others, he was no longer able to see reality. However, like mentioned before, I sense the return of Potato’s senses in the following panel: (chapter 59) His silence and hesitation shows that he detected something was wrong, but he couldn’t determine that this was related to the actor’s cold and distant goodbye.

In my opinion, Kim Dan has always helped Yoon-Gu to mature and voice his own thoughts and desires. If Potato were to return to the place where he met Kim Dan or learn about Kim Dan’s struggles, it could serve as a pivotal moment in his transformation. Reconnecting with Kim Dan, who genuinely cared for him, might inspire Potato to forge a new path. This could parallel the little mermaid’s ultimate realization that her dreams and identity are separate from the prince.

The Role of the Number Six and Maternal Symbolism

Another significant layer in Andersen’s fairy tale is the little mermaid’s identity as the sixth child. The number six, often associated with motherhood and the heart, highlights her nurturing qualities and selflessness. Her distinctiveness among her siblings is reflected in her unique garden, designed in the shape of the sun, symbolizing her longing for light and individuality. Despite these efforts, no one paid attention to her garden, mirroring how her inner world and emotions were overlooked. And this coincides with my observation about the numbers in Jinx. 6 announces the beginning of a new relationship.

This parallels Kim Dan’s experience in Jinx, where his well-being and emotions are ignored by those around him. He, too, acts as a maternal figure, selflessly caring for others while receiving little in return. This maternal role further emphasizes the weight of his sacrifices and his struggle to be seen as an individual.

The death of the puppy (chapter 59), coinciding with Potato’s departure, underscores this theme of overlooked emotions and unreciprocated care. As Joo Jaekyung reflects on Kim Dan’s comparison of Potato to a puppy, it may catalyze a pivotal shift, prompting him (chapter 29) to adopt a puppy for the doctor’s sake and bring him to their new home.

Conclusion: Love, Dependency, and the Pursuit of Dreams

The Little Mermaid and Jinx both explore the complexities of love, conditional relationships, and the search for independence. Andersen’s tale warns against losing oneself in the pursuit of another’s love, emphasizing the importance of self-discovery and personal growth. In Jinx, these themes are echoed through the dynamics between Heesung, Potato, and Kim Dan. Joo Jaekyung, as an illusionary prince, represents the dangers of idolization, while Heesung’s selfishness highlights the pitfalls of conditional love. Ultimately, the journeys of these characters underscore the importance of finding one’s own voice, embracing individuality, and pursuing dreams on one’s own terms.

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-Tumblr-Twitter 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: Craving Mama’s 👩‍👦Shine ☀️ – part 2

Mama or Joo Jaekyung?

After reading the first part, my follower and avid reader @rantofalifetime brought my attention to this panel. (chapter 57) She wondered if this nickname “MAMA” was not a spelling mistake, and that the translator might have meant “MMA fighter Joo Jaekyung.” Intrigued by this possibility, I sought clarification, and indeed, in the Japanese version (episode 57) the reporter introduces the main lead differently: “Next, we have news regarding Joo Jaekyung.” This subtle difference is significant for three reasons.

Fighter Joo Jaekyung and its implications

First, it shifts the tone of the news. By omitting the nickname “MAMA” and using a more neutral phrasing, the journalist appears more professional and unbiased. This deliberate neutrality lends credibility to the report, giving viewers the impression that the information presented is factual and untainted by bias. Second, this choice strategically conceals the existence of any underlying manipulation or conspiracy, aligning with the larger narrative tactics observed throughout the interviews. The omission of the nickname highlights the calculated nature of MFC’s media strategy, showcasing how tone and language are carefully curated to influence public perception. Finally, like my friend noticed it, something was missing in this introduction: the nickname Emperor. The omission of the nickname “The Emperor” in the second interview is a subtle yet significant detail. It not only signals a shift in how Joo Jaekyung is perceived but also reveals a deliberate effort to undermine his status. As my friend keenly observed, this change in language demotes the champion from his previously exalted position. While he was once heralded as “The Emperor,” the absence of this title in the current narrative exposes an underlying strategy of manipulation and control. It is as though his stature is being diminished step by step, aligning with MFC’s broader agenda to distance themselves from his achievements and frame his struggles as personal failings. This seemingly minor detail becomes a glaring indicator of the deception at play, further underscoring the calculated nature of the interviews. On the other hand, they are not using the suspension as an excuse for the loss of his title. (chapter 57) And what does it mean?

Rewriting the past

The organization’s deliberate omission of the health center incident (chapter 52) and the suspension from their narrative highlights a calculated effort to erase inconvenient truths that could tarnish not only MFC’s reputation but also that of the medical professionals complicit in their schemes. Let’s not forget (chapter 41) the complicity of the doctors who cleared Joo Jaekyung to fight despite his evident injuries as another example of the corruption within this world. Moreover, by avoiding any mention of the suspension (chapter 52) (chapter 57), which stems from Joo Jaekyung’s actions at the health center, MFC ensures that questions surrounding the incident—such as the switched spray and the deliberate injury to his ankle—are never raised. This allows both the organization and the doctors involved to escape scrutiny.

By neglecting to use the suspension as a justification for the champion’s alleged fall from grace, MFC subtly frames the athletes as solely responsible for their setbacks, deflecting attention away from systemic corruption. The erasure of the health center brawl, where Baek Junmin provoked Joo Jaekyung, (chapter 52), is not only a protective measure for MFC but also shields the medical professionals who facilitated the situation. Doctors at the health center failed to report the ankle injury caused by the sabotage (chapter 50), further implicating them in a network of complicity and greed. Their decision to place the two fighters next to each other without proper privacy measures, such as curtains, reveals a disregard for professional ethics in favor of spectacle and profit. I would even add, the decisions from the health center’s medical staff, played a significant role in escalating the situation. By placing Joo Jaekyung and Baek Junmin next to each other post-fight, without appropriate measures like curtains to ensure separation, the health center created an environment ripe for conflict.

This negligence directly contributed to Baek Junmin’s severe injuries , (chapter 52) as the provoked champion lashed out in an unregulated setting. The decision to ignore these systemic failures and instead to suspend Joo Jaekyung suggests a deeper layer of complicity from the medical world, where doctors and nurses prioritized organizational demands and reputational interests over ethical responsibilities. Their failure to report the provocation and the ankle injury caused by the switched spray further highlights their alignment with MFC’s corrupt practices.

The vanishing of the shooting star

This complicity extends to Baek Junmin’s trajectory as a fighter. Once celebrated as a rising star with “star quality” (chapter 47) and favored by MFC’s CEO, Baek Junmin has now been discarded, his relevance extinguished the moment he ceased to serve the organization’s agenda. (chapter 57) His involvement in the underground fighting circuit and illegal gambling adds a layer of complexity to his role. (chapter 47) His background, combined with his visible association with MFC’s CEO, positions him as a key figure who could potentially expose the organization’s darker practices.

Rather than remaining a simple antagonist to Joo Jaekyung, Baek Junmin’s evolving role shifts him toward that of a pivotal witness. His potential testimony against figures like Choi Gilseok and the corrupt medical professionals could unravel the facade that MFC has worked so hard to maintain. This transformation invites readers to reconsider the hierarchy of villains and victims within the narrative. While Baek Junmin’s earlier provocations painted him as an adversary (chapter 49), his ultimate fate now reflects the broader cruelty and exploitation perpetuated by those in power. That’s how I realized the other signification of the cross below his left eye. The latter symbolizes his blindness in the end. The cross signifies his inability to see beyond the role he played within the system—a symbol of his naivety and misplaced confidence. Baek Junmin believed he understood the brutal reality of the fighting world, given his background in underground rings and illegal gambling. He thought his experience and cunning gave him an edge, making him untouchable or indispensable. However, his taunts to Joo Jaekyung (chapter 49) reveal a man who overestimated his position within the organization.

His role as a fighter in the shadows, bound by corrupt systems and ruthless practices, prevented him from recognizing his true dispensability. MFC’s abandonment of him after his injuries and the lack of media attention further underline this. Baek Junmin, who once took pride in being part of such a system, failed to realize that he, like Joo Jaekyung, was merely a pawn in a game controlled by higher powers. The cross, therefore, becomes a stark reminder of his ignorance—not just of his own situation but also of the shared plight of those exploited within this system.

This blindness also extends to his inability to see himself as part of a larger narrative of manipulation. His dismissal by MFC, after being paraded as the next rising star, parallels the broader exploitation of fighters, making him not just a villain but also a victim. The irony is that while he mocked Joo Jaekyung’s perceived vulnerabilities, he was equally, if not more, vulnerable to the same forces that ultimately discarded him. (chapter 52) Thus he is erased from the news.

Between Fiction and Reality

This dynamic highlights the dehumanizing nature of the combat sports world portrayed in the story. Fighters are reduced to pawns, manipulated through orchestrated narratives, and discarded when they are no longer useful. The inclusion of Baek Junmin as a potential whistle-blower not only reveals the systemic corruption within MFC but also foreshadows a potential turning point. His decision to expose the illegal activities he has witnessed, including the complicity of the doctors, could serve as the catalyst for dismantling the network of exploitation controlling the fighters’ lives. His evolution from a rival to a reluctant ally, shaped by shared experiences of manipulation and abandonment, would underscore the collective struggle of those ensnared in the system. This would emphasize the need for unity among the exploited in confronting the forces of greed and corruption that dominate their lives. On the other hand, since in episode 54, the champion is blaming Baek Junmin once again (chapter 54), it shows the athlete’s lack of reflection and insight. He hasn’t been able to discern the truth, the corruption of his “world”. This means that he needs to travel and experience a whole new world. The contrast would serve as an eye-opener for the athlete.

Mingwa’s storytelling in Jinx is layered with sharp social commentary, and the narrative’s critique of organizations like MFC can certainly be seen as a mirror to real-life entities such as the UFC. By delving into the corrupt underpinnings of MFC, Mingwa exposes the dehumanizing aspects of combat sports, where fighters are reduced to commodities rather than respected athletes. Through characters like Joo Jaekyung and Baek Junmin, the story critiques the exploitation, systemic manipulation, and lack of accountability within these organizations.

The parallels are striking. Just as MFC uses fighters for profit and discards them when they’re no longer useful, real-life organizations in the fighting industry have faced criticism for their treatment of athletes—be it inadequate healthcare, manipulated narratives to boost viewership, or prioritizing financial gain over the fighters’ well-being. The absence of transparency, as seen in the suspension’s omission in Jinx, reflects a calculated attempt to control the narrative and avoid scrutiny, a tactic not uncommon in corporate sports environments.

Silencing the Outsider: MFC’s Strategy Against Kim Dan

The second interview (chapter 57) holds significant weight in the context of Kim Dan’s storyline, as it appears to be strategically (chapter 56) released shortly after the champion’s urgent request to locate him. This timing is no coincidence. Instead, it reflects a calculated effort to manipulate both the public narrative and Kim Dan’s own perception of his role and value. By introducing the anonymous person as “one of his close associates”, it implies that the champion has already moved on from the protagonist. He is not missing him at all. At the same time, it implies that within a short time, the person was able to get the athlete’s trust which stands in opposition to this scene: (chapter 51) Thus I conclude that the interview serves a dual purpose: to emotionally undermine Kim Dan and to cement his estrangement from Joo Jaekyung.

First, the interview subtly shifts the blame for the champion’s so-called “loss” onto external factors, including his struggles with recovery and mental well-being. (chapter 57) While it does not explicitly mention Kim Dan, the implications are clear. As someone who was deeply involved in Joo Jaekyung’s health and recovery during the lead-up to the match, Kim Dan is indirectly made to feel responsible for the champion’s struggles. This psychological manipulation creates a sense of guilt, making him question his capabilities as a physical therapist and his influence on the champion’s performance. However, they fail to achieve their goal, because his subsequent reflections reveal a deeper realization (chapter 57): his regret was not merely about using the spray but about his failure to assert himself professionally. (chapter 49) By complying unquestioningly with the champion’s requests, he had diminished his role, acting more like a servant than a competent physical therapist. The interview, though painful, (chapter 57) serves as a harsh wake-up call, forcing him to confront his own shortcomings and reevaluate his behavior.

The introduction of the new physical therapist further amplifies this shift in perspective. If the new PT indeed represents a professional eager to stand in the spotlight and claim authority, their presence acts as a stark contrast to Kim Dan’s former passivity. It highlights the missed opportunities in Kim Dan’s past—instances where he could have spoken up (chapter 41), drawn boundaries, and made his expertise known. I would even add that he never felt responsible for the champion’s reputation in the media (chapter 36) Hence he remained passive all this time. His negligence becomes more obvious, when the media released this wave of articles: (chapter 52) Thus I discern a turning point in the doctor’s mentality. The last interview served as a painful wake-up call. This juxtaposition not only deepens Kim Dan’s understanding of his mistakes but also offers a model for the kind of professional he aspires to become. He can, if he wants to be in the spotlight: (chapter 41) In addition, while many Jinx-Philes are blaming the champion for his outburst, (chapter 50) rejection and (chapter 50) accusations, (chapter 51), the main lead is not blaming his fated partner at all. Why? It is because none of this would have happened, if he had acted as PT and trusted his own hands. He was too passive, standing by the sideline. He never became proactive. (chapter 57) Therefore I deduce that the doctor should be gradually become aware of his grandmother’s wrongdoings: her passivity in front of bullying and ostracism is one of the reasons for his low self-esteem. Besides, we should keep in mind his other confession which outlines (chapter 47) his indifference and lack of professionalism. In the end, the grandmother is the reason for his lack of professionalism and neglect.

But let’s return our attention to the second interview. The latter, while deeply manipulative and likely intended to isolate both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, inadvertently sparks a positive transformation. It forces Kim Dan to grapple with the realities of his role and recognize that his value as a physical therapist lies in his ability to assert his knowledge and make independent decisions. What was meant to discredit him 😉 becomes the catalyst for his growth, paving the way for him to reclaim his agency and redefine his identity within the professional and personal dynamics surrounding Joo Jaekyung. I would even add that it pushes him to separate private life from professional matters.

At the same time, the interview appears to diminish Kim Dan’s importance by omitting any reference to him altogether. (chapter 57) This omission sends a message: the champion is being “taken care of” by others, including the newly hired physical therapist, whose role is subtly elevated through the term “close associate.” By erasing Kim Dan from the narrative, MFC effectively undermines his connection to Joo Jaekyung and makes it seem as though his presence and contributions are no longer required. The implicit rejection is a cruel strategy designed to isolate him further and ensure that he stays away from the champion.

Kim Dan’s status as a freelancer further highlights the precariousness of his position. (chapter 54) Unlike the newly hired PT, who likely has the backing of a hospital or organization, Kim Dan operates independently. This independence, while offering a degree of freedom, also makes him vulnerable. He lacks the institutional support that could shield him from the manipulative tactics of MFC. Moreover, his independence places him in direct contrast to the systemic corruption that permeates MFC and its associated entities. As someone who has already been victimized by two major deceptions—the drugged nutrition shake (chapter 37) and the switched spray (chapter 57) —Kim Dan stands as a figure who threatens to expose the cracks in MFC’s carefully constructed facade. Let’s not forget that the incident with the poisoned beverage was swept under the rug by framing haters.

By keeping Kim Dan away from Joo Jaekyung, MFC is not only ensuring that he does not return to support the champion but also protecting their own interests. Kim Dan’s presence could potentially disrupt their narrative, especially if his proximity to Joo Jaekyung allowed him to uncover further instances of manipulation or corruption. His removal from the equation eliminates a wildcard that MFC cannot afford to tolerate.

Furthermore, the interview’s implicit targeting of Kim Dan underscores the predatory nature of the organization. Rather than openly addressing the champion’s request or the realities of his situation, MFC and the Entertainment agency opt to manipulate the individuals surrounding him to maintain control. The release of this interview ensures that Kim Dan feels alienated, unneeded, and even complicit in the champion’s struggles, thereby neutralizing him as a potential ally.

In sum, the second interview is as much about silencing Kim Dan as it is about reshaping the narrative around Joo Jaekyung. By targeting Kim Dan’s emotional vulnerabilities and professional independence, MFC and their accomplices seek to isolate him while protecting their interests. This calculated strategy highlights the organization’s ruthless nature and its willingness to exploit anyone—even those on the periphery—to maintain its grip on the narrative.

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.