Jinx: The Night🌒-Cursed Emperor 🫅

For my avid readers, the title and illustration give the impression that I will focus on Joo Jaewoong’s death and its signification in the protagonist’s life. They are not wrong, yet it covers only one aspect of this analysis. Jinx-philes have already sensed that this moment was not only the night that ended a life, but the one that birthed a weight Joo Jaekyung would carry forward: guilt that refused to fade, and a self-loathing that no victory could silence. If these are the roots of the curse, then “Emperor” names the crown — a crown whose origin is far murkier than the public believes. However, people shouldn’t forget that in that moment, the main lead was just a teenager, who belonged to a boxing studio. He was not a MMA fighter, he was not the Emperor either.

Like readers who thought they knew the main lead (a psychopath, a jerk…), fans in Jinx believe they know their idol. (chapter 26) They have watched his fights (chapter 23), memorized his moves and titles, and repeated the anecdotes told in gyms and on TV. They’ve heard how he was “saved” by sports from a darker path, and cheered for him as the “Emperor” — the handsomest fighter, the man who broke the arcade’s punching machine (chapter 26), the champion who stands above the rest. But if the champion’s life is already an open book, why did Mingwa wait so long to reveal his childhood and family? The answer is simple. It is because Joo Jaekyung has been called the Emperor till his fight against Baek Junmin! These public portraits — the friendly banter in the gym, the theatrical ring intros — show us the merchandise, not the man. They are the carefully polished surface presented to fans and fellow fighters alike, repeated so often that even those closest to him believe them. Yet behind this image (chapter 30) lies a past left unspoken, a silence so complete that his own history became an empty space others could fill as they wished. This essay brings these two “stories” together — the Emperor and the boy. And now, you may be wondering how I came to connect the champion’s trauma to his future career as an MMA fighter. The answer lies in Joo Jaekyung’s own voice. 😮

The Emperor in The News

When the news broke in chapter 70, (chapter 70), Hwang Byungchul’s anger fell squarely on the champion. (chapter 70) To him, it looked as though Jaekyung had made the reckless choice to return to the ring so soon. That was the trap: the headline and phrasing were designed to make it appear that the decision was the fighter’s own. The opening line alone (Chapter 70) created the illusion that this break had been perceived as a punishment, and that Jaekyung was eager to prove himself once again. No wonder the director assumed he had given his consent.

The visuals reinforced the illusion. The entertainment agency recycled old images not just because they lacked recent photos, but because they wanted to tap into the nostalgia of his earlier popularity, before the match against the Shotgun. It was as if someone wanted to overwrite the present and rewrite his history, packaging him in the glow of past victories. Even within the same news segment, there were two distinct “voices”: the official announcer highlighting his return, and an unseen voice quietly bringing up the suspension again — a reminder meant to frame his comeback as a personal mission rather than a corporate decision. In truth, the match was arranged by “Joo Jaekyung’s team” and MFC — a convenient shield for those actually pulling the strings. (chapter 70) Thus I conclude that the first comment (chapter 70) was to divert attention from the other persons involved in the decision for the next fight.

Notice what the journalist does not say. The CEO’s name is absent. There is no mention of the closed-door meeting between Park Namwook, Jaekyung, and the CEO where the fight was proposed. (chapter 69) By erasing these details, the public sees only two players: the Emperor and his anonymous “team.” (chapter 69) It was as if the main lead, backed by his team, had personally approached MFC to request the match — an illusion strengthened by the opening line, “MFC’s former champion Joo Jaekyung will be returning to the ring this fall after serving his suspension.” This way, if the decision draws criticism, the CEO can retreat behind the fighter and his team, like they did in the past. (Chapter 54) Back then, the champion had not reacted to this comment. Even in the worst case, the CEO can hide behind one of the MFC match managers or doctors. (chapter 41) But that excuse would be a fiction: Jaekyung hasn’t even met those doctors or talked to the MFC match manager (chapter 05). He has been chasing after his fated partner. Finally, he hasn’t even signed any paper or agreed at the meeting. In fact, he remained silent for the most part of the time and the reason for this urgent meeting was his request for proper investigation concerning the switched spray: (chapter 67) That’s the reason why this suggestion from the CEO appeared the very next day. (chapter 69)

When the orthopedic surgeon Park Junmin cleared him to remove the cast in chapter 61 (chapter 61), it was paired with a recommendation for rehabilitation — not an immediate return to competition. This was actually a condition for his total recovery. On the other hand, the doctor imagined or suggested that his patient wished to return to the ring so soon. No medical professional ever signed off on an autumn fight. Yet the date is already set, and the headlines frames it as a confident comeback without any medical backup. The Emperor’s name is splashed everywhere, but none of the words belong to him.

And this is not the first time we’ve seen this sleight of hand. Back in chapter 57, a television broadcast featured an “exclusive interview” (chapter 57) with one of his close associates — a man whose face was hidden, speaking as though he were the athlete’s voice. That interview was accompanied by a familiar victory image (chapter 57), a stock photo already used in other press pieces. This picture comes from after the fight in the States: (chapter 41), while the image released with the fall match announcement was the one from when he first won his champion title. (chapter 70) Since MFC and the journalist are recycling old images, they unwittingly revealed their own deception — dressing up the present in the clothes of the past. LOL!

The message is the same in every case: Jaekyung “speaks,” but only through others. His former stage name mirrored his situation, as he owned the champion belt for quite some time. The title “Emperor” (chapter 14) seems to radiate absolute power — the kind of authority that commands armies, bends laws, and answers to no one. It is meant to ooze charisma and control, a name that suggests the bearer acts on his own will. Yet, in truth, emperors have rarely ruled alone. Behind every throne stand ministers, advisors, generals, and family factions, each shaping decisions from the shadows. An emperor who ignores these forces risks losing his crown.

In Joo Jaekyung’s case, the irony is sharper still. Far from being the all-powerful figure his stage name implies, the “Emperor” is a role built and sustained by others — MFC executives, Park Namwook, the entertainment agency — each serving as both his court and his cage. They decide when he fights, how he is presented, and even the tone of the stories told in his name. Once he tried to complain about his tight schedule, this is what he got to hear: (chapter 17) He was blamed for his popularity. The man inside the crown does not act or speak freely; his words are filtered, scripted, or replaced entirely.

This makes the title “Emperor” less a badge of sovereignty and more a mask for dependence. Like a ruler hemmed in by court protocol and political intrigue, Jaekyung’s every public move is mediated by the hands of others. The grandeur of the title hides the quiet truth: the Emperor is voiceless, and the crown he wears is one that demands obedience rather than granting freedom. That’s his curse. His identity is filtered, packaged, and sold by those who stand in his shadow – so much so that people send him bottles of alcohol because that’s what one offers a champion, (chapter 12), never mind that he hardly drinks. The gesture fits the fantasy they’ve built around him, not the reality of a man who rejects alcohol due to his addicted father, a reminder that even the tokens of admiration are shaped by the image, not the truth. So who is this so-called close associate or “Joo Jaekyung’s team” exactly that decides for him, speaks for him, and hides behind his title? Besides, why did the journalist change from “one of his close associates” to “Joo Jaekyung’s team”?

The Voice Behind the Crown

In chapter 57, the television broadcast introduced “one of his close associates” — (chapter 57) a figure whose face and name were hidden, speaking on behalf of the Emperor. In the essay Craving Mama’s  Shine – part 1 (locked) I had presented different possibilities about the identity of this “close associate”. But with the new announcement, it becomes clear that figure can only be Park Namwook. He is the only one who arranged the meeting between the CEO and Joo Jaekyung. The anonymity was not a courtesy; it was a shield. By keeping his face and identity off the record, he could shape the narrative without owning it, avoiding any direct responsibility for the words attributed to him. Yet the choice of “close associate” was deliberate — it positioned him as the man closest to Jaekyung, someone with privileged access and authority to speak for him. It was a claim of proximity and influence, the sort of title that sells the image of a trusted confidant, even as it erases the fighter’s own voice.

The broadcast itself set the tone even before his segment began. Just prior to the “interview,” the anchor announced: (chapter 57) The nickname, played for entertainment value, was another way of turning the champion into a caricature — a marketable, amusing persona instead of a man with a past and agency. It is quite telling that Park Namwook’s interview aired immediately after the anchor referred to Jaekyung as “Mama Joo Jaekyung Fighter.” This was not the lofty “Emperor” title repeated in gyms and ring intros — it was more a mocking nickname, a deliberate jab meant to provoke. In that moment, the Emperor was verbally pulled down from his pedestal, yet the images shown alongside the segment told a different story: carefully chosen shots of him as a champion, a visual echo of his marketable persona. The dissonance was striking.

Equally telling is that the “Emperor” title had already vanished from the conversation. Its disappearance suggests that Jaekyung was never the one who chose it — it was a label assigned to him by others, to be used or dropped at their convenience. Park Namwook made no attempt to restore it or defend his fighter’s dignity, like mentioning the drug incident in the States or the spray incident in Seoul. The cause for his “silence” is simple: he doesn’t want to admit his failures and responsibility. He prefers the champion taking the blame. Hence this interview was not brought up by the manager: . (chapter 54) In my opinion, the man is trying to return to the past, thinking that his “popularity” can come back, not realizing that he is being manipulated himself. On the contrary, he stepped into the role of spokesperson without hesitation, speaking as if he were Jaekyung’s voice while keeping his own face and name hidden. He only speaks, when he feels safe. He can not be responsible for the champion’s recovery. (chapter 57) The message was clear: he had no issue with his fighter being framed this way (“Mama Fighter Joo Jaekyung”), so long as the interview served its purpose. Park Namwook may not be a cynical manipulator, but his silence in the face of mockery speaks volumes. In his mind, any coverage is better than none; to vanish from the public eye is worse than being nicknamed “Mama Fighter.” By stepping into the media slot, he believes he’s keeping Jaekyung alive in the public consciousness. Yet in doing so, he stands shoulder to shoulder with another, unseen voice — the one that coined the nickname in the first place. In both chapter 57 and chapter 70, this pairing repeats itself: Namwook’s loyalty becomes indistinguishable from complicity. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s lending his presence to a narrative that diminishes the man he claims to represent.

By chapter 70, the personal title “close associate” had shifted to the more generic “Joo Jaekyung’s team.” On the surface, the word “team” suggests equity, collaboration, and shared responsibility. But in Park Namwook’s vocabulary, “team” has never meant equality. His idea of a team mirrors the hierarchy he operates in — a boss who directs, and subordinates who follow without question, like we could observe at the hospital. (Chapter 52) This framing lets him claim the prestige of leadership while leaving himself room to withdraw if things go wrong. Yosep was the one notifying MFC and reporting the incident to the police, Potato explaining his discovery to Joo Jaekyung and blaming the star.

And yet, the choice of this term also reveals a subtle shift. By saying “Joo Jaekyung’s team,” he is placing the athlete’s name in front — not his own, not MFC’s. That way, he believes that he can avoid accountability behind the team. However, he is not grasping that gradually, he is stepping down from his self-proclaimed ownership of the gym. Whether intentionally or not, the manager is acknowledging that the gym’s growing identity will eventually crystallize around the fighter himself. The name “Team Black” hasn’t appeared yet, but its logic is already here: a team that exists for the athlete and with the athlete’s consent, not a faceless collective that speaks over him. When that name finally surfaces, it will function as a boundary—an institutional “enough”—marking the end of treating the man like merchandise.

Here, the article You Don’t Have to Put Up With Everything” offers a revealing lens. The article warns against confusing empathy with passive tolerance. While it’s important to understand that people may have difficult histories or traumas, compassion should not be used as a justification for allowing someone to mistreat or disrespect you. Understanding someone’s struggles does not mean accepting harmful gestures, words, or behaviors. Setting limits is not selfish or arrogant, but an act of self-respect and emotional protection. Boundaries are not rejection — they are self-care, a way to protect one’s well-being without guilt. This is exactly what the manager expected from Kim Dan. (Chapter 36) He should tolerate the celebrity’s moods and put up with everything. The manager didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t get affected. But what is the consequence of such a passive tolerance? An individual’s self-esteem can slowly erode, leading to a gradual loss of their sense of self. They may stop recognizing their own desires, needs, and rights, often without even realizing this is happening. This is because emotional exhaustion often develops subtly over time, rather than appearing as a sudden, dramatic event.

As you can see, it can lead to depression. That has been Jaekyung’s position for years as well— enduring decisions made without his real consent, swallowing public criticism and badmouthing, and staying silent (chapter 31) when punished. In this light, Park Namwook embodies the very dynamic the article warns against: a figure who benefits from another’s compliance, maintaining control not through open dialogue, but through unspoken rules and the threat of exclusion.

The First Curse of the Manufactured Emperor

And now, you may be wondering why I am focusing so much on the absence of voice from Joo Jaekyung — the Emperor and the man. It is because he has been used as a tool, more precisely as an ATM machine for MFC. According to the teacher in Jinx (chapter 73), by becoming a boxer, the champion wouldn’t make a lot of money. With this comment, he implied that boxing in South Korea had been losing popularity 10 years ago. This explicates why gradually, the members from Hwang Byungchul left the studio. And it was likely the same in the illegal fighting circuit. (chapter 73) The popularity of MMA in the States gave them the opportunity to revive fighting sports, a figure who could draw crowds and sponsors, making such events fashionable again.

For me, the Emperor was created for that reason. His public image was rewritten — he was called a “genius” (chapter 72) instead of “hard-working,” a man who “chose sports over a dark path.” Yet if you look closely, this celebrated “ascension” (chapter 72) isn’t tied to the director’s boxing studio at all — it’s linked to the arcade’s punching machine incident. (chapter 26) This moment, trivial in reality, became the origin story of the Emperor, as though the broken machines had revealed a prodigy destined for greatness. That’s the reason the star rejects this intro. In fact, this incident contributed to create the champion as a spoiled brat. In truth, the director had suggested that Jaekyung enter the sport professionally so that he could feed himself, but his reasoning had nothing to do with arcade games or instant legend. That pragmatic nudge was later overwritten with a glamorous tale that erased the long hours in a run-down boxing studio (chapter 72), the scars of his family history, and the years of survival before the cage. This is history rewritten, his boxing past and family erased. Why? His origins could expose the ugly verity: the link between criminality and boxing (as such fighting sports). Secondly, because his real story, though moving, lacked the glamorous allure needed to market him. His real story would have revealed that to rise to the top, you need relentless work, not a miraculous moment. That version was never going to sell as well as the “genius” myth.

With his success, his “gym” soon attracted members from different martial arts — judo, jiu-jitsu — all chasing the dream of becoming rich and famous like him. (chapter 46) Most of them thought that by staying close to him, they could benefit from his popularity. To conclude, for many of them proximity to the Emperor wasn’t about learning discipline or technique; it was about absorbing his fame by osmosis. Hence they complained and accepted the gifts and money so easily. (chapter 41) Observe how the manager is acting here. He is speaking, touching the star like his prize and possession. The Emperor became the merchandise, the illusion, the bait to draw both viewers and fighters. However, being “labeled as genius” can only push desperate fighters to take a short-cut: bribes and drugs. Hence Seonho couldn’t last a whole round. (chapter 46) And, like any product, once it was seen as damaged, its value plummeted. The moment he “lost” his title and suffered injury (chapter 52), the dream began to unravel. (chapter 52) This panel captures this shift perfectly: two fighters casually dismiss him over dinner. In those words, the Emperor isn’t a mentor, a champion, or even a man — he’s a broken commodity, no longer worth the investment. The same people who once fed off his popularity are the first to abandon him when the promise of easy gain disappears.

This served more than publicity. Through him, they could obscure their crimes and build a parallel market in the underground fighting world. And here, the lesson from “You Don’t Have to Put Up With Everything” becomes vital: understanding Jaekyung’s difficult past or the pressures on the industry should not excuse the way his dignity and history have been trampled. His compassion for the system that raised him has been turned into passive tolerance — exactly the dynamic the article warns against.

And now, you see why I chose to postpone the second part of The Birth of the Shotgun. Without Baek Junmin — his shadow in the ring — Joo Jaekyung would never have been made to shine so brightly. No wonder why he was so jealous. He believed that his victories were rigged too.

Yet the irony is that Park Namwook is no mastermind. As we’ve seen time and again, he follows the lead of others — the CEO, the entertainment agency, perhaps even unseen backers — rather than setting the agenda himself. He is the mouthpiece, not the brain. The “close associate” title flattered him with the appearance of authority; the “team” label protects him when that authority becomes risky. Both are masks, worn depending on the circumstances, to keep himself valuable to the system. On the other hand, he is gradually revealing his real position: he is not the owner of the gym! (chapter 22) He is even disposable. He is gradually giving more rights to his “boy”, the real director of Team Black. And the moment you perceive the manager as the main lead’s voice, you can grasp the true significance of the slap at the hospital: (chapter 52) For the first time, the main lead had voiced his own thoughts and emotions. He had used his real “voice”, revealed his unwell-being: (chapter 52) To this outburst, Park Namwook slapped Jaekyung in front of others (chapter 52). (chapter 52) That was not the act of a coach correcting an athlete — it was the gesture of an owner disciplining a pet or a possession, a reminder of who controlled the narrative. In that moment, the Emperor did not protest. (chapter 52) He chose silence, and later avoidance, staying away from the gym. That silence was not weakness, but choice: he would listen less and less to his hyung.

From then on, the champion’s public image — whether filtered through the “close associate” or the “team” — was not his own. Park Namwook treated him less like an athlete (chapter 70) and more like a product: something to be displayed, sold, and, when necessary, handled roughly to keep in line. The shift in labels is just another layer of that merchandising process — a packaging change to suit the current market, not a recognition of the man inside. To conclude, the champion has always been voiceless all this time, even here: (chapter 36) All he needed to do was to fight: (chapter 36)

And yet, if you compare the Emperor in the present with the teenager in the past, you’ll see a stark reversal. The Joo Jaekyung of today has his voice mediated, silenced, or replaced by others; the boy of yesterday dared to speak for himself. In the confrontation with his father, he voiced his own desires and defiance directly (chapter 73) — unfiltered, unmarketed, unprotected. It was raw, dangerous honesty, and it came at a cost: the loss of his voice!

The Night That Stole His Voice

If you compare the Emperor to the boy he once was, the contrast is striking. As a teenager confronting his father, Joo Jaekyung still voiced his own desires. (chapter 73) Six years earlier, however, his voice had already been battered by silence. After his mother’s abandonment at age six, the only connection he retained with her was a phone number — (chapter 72) We don’t know how many times he called, but each time we see him do it, his face is injured. (chapter 72) The phone calls are therefore intertwined with the boxing studio, as though pain itself pushed him toward her. At ten, he picked up the receiver and let it ring only a few times before hanging up. The next time, in the dead of winter, he finally spoke, promising that if she returned, he would protect her from his father and make enough money to keep her safe. (chapter 72) Each time what answered him was not her voice, but a machine: (chapter 72) His words met a recording, his promise suspended in a vacuum. Whether she listened to his words or not, the outcome was the same — she never came back. No reply, no echo. Her silence told him the truth: his wish would never be heard. From that point on, she vanished not only from his life but from his speech; he no longer mentioned her. That silence became his default — speaking desires aloud was pointless if no one would answer.

By the time of the morning argument with his father at sixteen, we can conclude that the nightly calls had long stopped. The boy had given up on being heard. (chapter 73) Six years later, at sixteen, he finally raised his voice again — this time to his father. He wouldn’t give up on boxing. Unlike the mother, the father answered. But his “reply” came in the form of insults, blows, and a dark prophecy: that Jaekyung would never amount to anything, (chapter 73) that he was born a loser, that his dream was a joke. Here, the voice met not silence but resistance, mockery, and humiliation. And unlike with his mother, Jaekyung did not retreat — he cursed back. (chapter 73) He swore he would prove the man wrong, that he would win, and spat the most dangerous line of all: “If I win, you can keel over and die for all I care.” That evening, he saw his father’s corpse — (chapter 73) and with it, another layer of his voice disappeared. He had the impression, he had killed his father. His words had been more dangerous than his punches. Hence he could only come to resent his own voice and words. And now, you comprehend why the Emperor allowed the hyung to become his voice. To conclude, the silence of those nights became the silence of the man. As you can see, the curse did not fall on Joo Jaekyung’s voice in one night — it was built, in stages, over years. But the death of his father linked to the argument represented the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

This is the pivotal difference: with the mother, voicing a wish had no consequence because it dissolved into nothingness. With the father, voicing a wish carried weight — it provoked, it struck back, and, in Jaekyung’s eyes, it cursed. When his father died that same evening, the boy was left to carry the unbearable suspicion that his words had somehow brought it about. That night became the night his voice was poisoned: one parent had taught him that speaking was useless; the other had taught him that speaking could kill. From then on, his voice retreated into the ring, where the only “speaking” he did was with his fists. And now, you comprehend why he is using his sex partners as surrogate fighters, why he treats them as toys. (chapter 55)

The Birth of the Jinx

The two formative wounds — his mother’s unanswered call and his father’s cursed reply — shaped the way Joo Jaekyung would handle intimacy for years to come. With his mother, speaking led to nothing; his voice dissolved into silence. With his father, speaking led to too much; his words became a curse, followed by guilt and grief. From these experiences, he learned that words in close relationships were unpredictable weapons. They could vanish, leaving him abandoned, or strike deep, leaving him ashamed.

Sex became his remedy to fight against loneliness and his refuge from this danger (chapter 2) — a space where he could act without having to speak. In the bedroom, as in the ring, the body could carry the conversation. Here, he could dominate, control, and release tension without the risk of verbal damage. His partners became surrogate opponents: sparring substitutes in a non-lethal match. Treating them as “toys” wasn’t only objectification; it was a form of control that, in his mind, protected both sides. Toys don’t demand answers, don’t talk back, and don’t leave you cursed with regret. They remain safely outside the territory where his voice had once done harm.

But this logic, built to keep others safe from his voice and himself safe from their silence, begins to falter with Kim Dan. The latter embodies not only the mother (abandonment, silence- I believe that he resembles her too) and father (argument, drinking), but also the child. Dan cries, shows his vulnerability and admits his mistakes. (chapter 1) He embodies innocence and as such lack of experiences. Moreover, he talks, makes suggestions for the champion’s sake (chapter 27), spent time with him, asks questions, confronts, and refuses to be reduced to a body in the room. He breaks the rule of silence. With him, Jaekyung can no longer hide behind the physical alone; he is forced to speak, to explain, to voice desires and fears. He pushes Jaekyung to engage in ways he’s spent years avoiding. In this way, Kim Dan becomes the first real threat to the system the champion built after those two curses — and possibly the first person who could prove that words can be safe again. And now, you comprehend why Joo Jaekyung was moved by the birthday card (chapter 62) To most, it might look like a simple gesture, but for him, it was a rare and precious thing — a voice that had taken the time to shape itself into words just for him. (chapter 55) After years of associating speech with either silence or harm, receiving a long-winded, carefully written message felt almost unreal. He saw the effort behind it, the deliberate choice to put thoughts and emotions into language instead of letting them fade away or turn into weapons. In that card, Kim Dan offered something neither of his parents had managed: a voice that reached him without wounding. No silence, no insult. For the champion, it wasn’t just a card — it was proof that words could be built into a gift, not a curse. The latter expressed his dreams and gratitude. Thus I deduce that the Emperor’s curse will be broken by a spell: words! (chapter 55) The “spell” to break it is not some grand external event, but the simple, sustained act of honest communication — something that has been denied to him since childhood.

By linking this to Kim Dan, it becomes obvious that the Emperor’s liberation won’t come from winning another fight or reclaiming a title, but from restoring his own voice in a relationship where speaking is safe, heard, and reciprocated. Boxing was the only language he ever learned from his parents (chapter 72) — a vocabulary of fists, jabs, and physical dominance as a way to earn money and recognition— but with Dan, the champion is slowly acquiring a new language. His hands, once trained only for striking and defending, begin to communicate through gentle gestures: an embrace (chapter 68), a kiss, a pat, a caress or by simply holding hands. In this way, the curse that began when his voice was silenced and his hands were weaponized will only be broken when those same hands learn to speak tenderness. Look how doc Dan reacted to his public embrace: (chapter 71) He saw affection in the hug, but he still doubted the champion’s action.

The Prison of the Boy

And now, you are probably wondering why I selected a tree for the background illustration of The Night-Cursed Emperor. Until now, the design’s images have played a secondary role, yet the answer lies in a single scene from chapter 41. (chapter 41) Under the bright sunlight, Kim Dan reached out toward the leaves, his hand open and unguarded, as he silently thought of the man he loved. This gesture, so simple yet so revealing, became the unspoken confession that marked the start of a different kind of freedom—the freedom to feel.

In my earlier analysis Prison of Glass , Key  Of Time , I had argued that Joo Jaekyung’s habit of meditating before the expansive glass window in his penthouse was more than a moment of calm — it was a ritual of self-confinement. (chapter 53) The glass was an invisible barrier, offering the illusion of freedom while keeping him trapped in the moment of his unresolved trauma. The closer he stood to it, the further he was from true release, his gaze fixed outward to avoid looking inward. That’s why he had no eye in that scene: (chapter 55)

This new scene (chapter 73) reveals why that reading was correct: the penthouse window is not just a symbolic device of the present — it is the direct heir of a far older image burned into his memory. Here, as a teenager, he stands before a small barred window in the room where his father’s corpse lies. The resemblance is not visual coincidence but emotional continuity. Both windows let in light without granting escape; both present the outside world as something visible yet forever out of reach.

In this panel, the confinement is literal. The bars fragment the daylight, reducing it to slivers, making the outside world seem even more inaccessible. He is facing the window and he corpse, his eyes fixed on the narrow frame of light, as if distance could make the reality behind him vanish. But the truth is locked in place — the body on the floor, the night’s events, the words exchanged. This is the night that froze him.

From that point on, every window in his life — no matter how large, modern, or luxurious — became a reenactment of that first prison. (chapter 55) The penthouse’s vast glass wall is just a polished version of this barred opening, a reminder that while his circumstances changed, the barrier never truly fell. The trauma stayed intact, shaping the way he saw the world and himself. The boy who stared through those bars never left that room; the man still carries that gaze. But there’s more to it.

Observe how he is standing in front of the window: (chapter 73) he is not only frozen, but also silent! Not only he lost his voice that night, but also he could never talk about it to anyone! He was forced to carry this huge burden alone. Who would feel empathy or attachment to such a man, when he was famous for his bad behavior? But deep down, the boy had come to love his father despite his flaws. This is his deepest secret which is coming to the surface: his love and guilt!

Even the window denies him solace. He could never see the moon behind that small window, just as he failed to notice the snow falling, when he attempted to contact his mother: (chapter 72) Nature was invisible to him; his world was defined by conflict, neglect, and survival, not by moments of beauty. He was never taught to enjoy the present moment.

Chapter 73 signals a shift. Like in chapter 71, where he shields his gaze, his “third eye” — the inner sight that perceives emotional truth — is beginning to open and recall his “sins”. His fever is not just physical; it’s the body’s acknowledgment of pain long repressed. He is starting to allow himself to feel, to admit vulnerability. (chapter 71)

And this is where the night changes meaning. Until now, darkness for him was bound to abandonment and death. But in chapter 70, the owl’s call pierces the silence — (chapter 70) the night can also be alive, communicative, protective. In that moment, the moon becomes more than a distant light in the sky: it is a patient witness, a calm listener in the stillness, reflecting the truth he has yet to voice. (chapter 70) Its soft glow contrasts with the blinding glare of the cage lights, suggesting that under the moon, there is space for gentleness, for hearing one’s own heartbeat and another’s words. Just as the moon guides travelers through darkness, it can guide him toward a night that does not suffocate him with loss, but offers orientation and connection.

This reframes his past behavior: his repeated night rescues of Kim Dan were not merely impulsive heroics; (chapter 60) they were his own form of therapy. In saving someone else in the night, (chapter 65) he could prove to himself he was not powerless, he was valuable, capable of protecting what mattered. (chapter 69) He was not too late either. And the moment doc Dan discovers what the silent hero has done for him so many times, the former will realize that he has always been special to the Emperor. Moreover, the latter had never abandoned him in the end.

The curse of the Night-Cursed Emperor — the depression, the insomnia, the silence — will only break when he can walk through the night not as a rescuer masking his own wounds, but as a man who voices his emotions to the one person who has truly shared those nights with him. And now, Jinx-philes can grasp my illustration. The moment Joo Jaekyung starts confiding to doc Dan about his inner world, he will not only regain his voice, but also his life! He will be free and no longer the merchandise “Joo Jaekyung the fighter”. He will become a man with a history that is finally his to tell. And if his mother is still alive… she can be criticized for her actions. How so? It is because she was not by his side. She believed the “myth”. She probably imagined that he was “happy”. With his regained voice, the schemers will lose their hold over him; they will no longer be able to manipulate the silence that once kept him bound. Park Namwook has thrived in the shadow of his trauma — reframing the scars of that night as “mania”, (chapter 9) as if the champion’s volatility were a quirk (the actions of a spoiled child) to be managed rather than a wound to be healed. It is because he never talked to the champion or investigated his past. It was only about money and glory. The manufactured image of the erratic, temperamental fighter served Namwook well; it excused rough handling, justified bad press, and kept Joo Jaekyung dependent. Once the Emperor can name the truth of that night, the fiction collapses — and with it, Namwook’s control. He can only be judged as a liar and even a traitor, but we know that Joo Jaekyung has a big heart. He could love his father despite the abuse. Now, the missing link is Cheolmin! (chapter 13) Observe that this name is a combination between Hwang Byungchul and Baek Junmin! Under this light, my avid readers can grasp why the athlete kept his existence in the dark for so long! It is because the latter belongs to his past and knows the truth behind the Emperor! He was aware of his suffering. For him, he is not just a fighter, but someone who needed FUN in his life!

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: Following the Teddy Bear – part 2 🧸🦆

I have to admit that chapter 72 contains so much insight that the essay “Following the Teddy Bear” didn’t contain all my observations, yet after writing almost 9000 words, I decided to close it. It was definitely getting too long. The problem is that today Mingwa is releasing a new episode and I wanted to share all my thoughts before we get new information.

Questioning the Teddy Bear’s past

In the first part, I questioned whether the champion had truly been raised only in poverty — or if there were traces of another world in his past, a hidden legacy that went beyond mere survival. At the time, I focused on the presence of the wrapped books in his childhood environment (chapter 72) — subtle symbols of education, possibility, and restraint, hinting at something more structured, perhaps even noble, behind his harsh upbringing.

But there is another reason to doubt the simplicity of his origin story, and it appears quietly in chapter 27: (chapter 27) Where and how did he learn swimming? Moreover, observe that he connected it to relaxation and fun. “This feels good”. This contrasts so much to the interaction between Hwang Byungchul and the little boy with the teddy bear. (Chapter 72) The man doesn’t know that the athlete can swim, he only knows the boxer, as he was only able to see him on TV. (chapter 71) Interesting is that Jinxphiles followed Kim Dan’s school career (chapter 47) (chapter 47), yet the latter can not swim! (Chapter 47)

Treading Water: The Symbolism of Near-Drowning

This means that doc Dan never received swimming lessons at school. Here I would like to thank my friend @Rin_de_eegana 😘🙏 for her great help. She brought my attention to the fact that in Japan swimming became a core part of school education after the Shiun Maru disaster in 1955, where many schoolchildren drowned. The government responded by installing pools and integrating swimming into physical education to prevent such tragedies. South Korea, on the other hand, only made survival swimming mandatory after the Sewol ferry disaster in 2014.

By 2019, children from grades 3 to 6 were supposed to receive survival swim training, and by 2020, this extended to grades 1 through 6. But as often happens with policy, the reality didn’t match the intention — many schools lacked pools, instructors, or resources. In poorer regions, survival swimming remained an ideal on paper rather than a guaranteed experience.

In episode 72, we briefly see the date May 16th (chapter 72), though the year is deliberately blurred. At first glance, it’s a simple timestamp anchoring the timeline of a major fight. It took place one month before his birthday. But May 16th also falls exactly one month after April 16th, the day of the Sewol ferry disaster. This connection may not be overt, but it echoes thematically in the physical therapist’s life: Kim Dan, born too early to benefit from those reforms, never learned how to swim. I will explain more further below.

Unveiling Joo Jaekyung’s secret

Since Joo Jaekyung’s childhood is more connected to the gym and not to the school, it implies that back then, school didn’t play a huge role in his life. (Chapter 72) Nevertheless, with this panel, Mingwa indicates that the protagonist was visiting the Elementary school. The neighborhood he grew up in — as described by Hwang Byungchul — was “cutthroat.” (Chapter 72) In such a place, swimming lessons would have been a luxury. Thus I deduce that the champion likely never learned to swim at school. The public school system there likely didn’t have the funds or infrastructure to build pools or train children in water safety. And yet, he did learn — and he swims confidently (chapter 27). He has no problem to jump onto a boat or to go into the ocean in order to save Kim Dan from drowning. (Chapter 60) He even knows how to give first aid too. (Chapter 60) These aren’t casual skills. They’re not the product of school curriculum or street wisdom, especially not in a neighborhood described as “cutthroat.” These are taught skills — and not by someone who saw Jaekyung merely as a fighter. Swimming and first aid reflect something else entirely: a commitment to preparedness, not just for survival, but for helping others.

This implies that someone in Jaekyung’s past — perhaps a doctor, nurse, or medically trained adult — took the time to teach him, not to toughen him, but to give him tools to protect and support others. In contrast to the ideology of “fight your way up,” (chapter 72) this unnamed figure offered a radically different message: you have value not just in your fists, but in your capacity to protect life. And contrary to Hwang Byungchul, this person stands for “shadow and humbleness” and not “spotlight or wealth”!

The act of learning first aid is not about aggression — it is a selfless skill, rooted in presence of mind and compassion. And yet it also builds self-reliance: it teaches a person to stay calm under pressure, to act precisely when others freeze. (Chapter 27) That Jaekyung carries this knowledge — and uses it without hesitation — reveals a deeper emotional structure. (chapter 60) Someone in his past gave him a moment of true help: not transactional, not conditional, not tied to victory — but human.

This quietly counters the narrative set by Hwang Byungchul, who taught Jaekyung how to fight, but never how to care. The presence of this unknown mentor—someone who offered real, dignified support—suggests that not all of Jaekyung’s emotional development came from brutality. Part of it came from someone who believed he could be more than a fighter and a weapon. After this realization, it dawned on me that this could be Cheolmin hyung, the mysterious doctor. (Chapter 13) His vocabulary revolves around water: “pond”, “fish”! Besides, I have already connected to him Poseidon, the god of the ocean. Moreover, this man is strongly intertwined with fun, a notion that doesn’t belong in Hwang Byungchul’s world! And now, you understand why this man could touch Joo Jaekyung’s shoulder (chapter 13) and even make jokes in front of him. (Chapter 13) He knew about the existence of the Teddy Bear inside the champion. And is it a coincidence that both men have the same name “Chul=Cheol”, though the order diverges: Cheolmin versus Byungchul? And both are connected to the color “green”. (chapter 72)

By contrast, Kim Dan never learned to swim — and even imagined that he would drown in the swimming pool. (Chapter 27) This small but powerful moment reveals a deeper social reality. He did go to school, and he lived in a more stable home environment with his grandmother. But here is the thing. Kim Dan is already 29 years old which means that he was born in the 90’s. It places him at the very edge of a generation caught between silence and reform. When the Sewol ferry disaster occurred on April 16, 2014, Dan was already too old to be involved with the reform. He belongs to the group of young adults for whom no institutional safety net existed. The survival swimming curriculum that was introduced in the aftermath of the tragedy — starting around 2019 for elementary students — came far too late for him.

This is why he never learned to swim. It wasn’t just due to poverty or a lack of parental support. It was the product of structural and societal abandonment which is also reflected in his unconscious suicidal attempt. (chapter 60) There was no witness, no coast guard, no institutional figure involved in his rescue. He was alone, only saved by one person. His generation was expected to take responsibility — to succeed, to repay debts, to endure hardship — but they were given no tools to survive when crisis struck. They were neither protected nor prepared.

Dan’s near-drowning in the story isn’t just a dramatic beat — it’s a reflection of this historical failure. He’s not weak or helpless. He’s simply someone no one thought to train, someone who slipped through the cracks of a society, because he was taught to only rely on his grandmother — a woman who, in the end, couldn’t truly protect him either. Why? It is because she just relies on one person as well. By not intervening against the bullies, she contributed to the protagonist’s isolation. Hence both were forced to rely on each other for years! The fact that he’s now a healthcare professional only deepens the irony. He is helping others breathe while no one taught him how to float.

The swimming scene reveals an unspoken truth about their pasts. The child Jaekyung, though bruised and abandoned, was prepared like a predator — taught to master his body and environment. (chapter 72) Dan, who grew up in silence and guilt, was taught only to endure and adapt — not to assert himself or survive in a crisis. What the text doesn’t show directly — how they each learned (or didn’t learn) to swim — is part of Jinx’s deeper architecture. To see it, we must use the third eye: the intuitive sense that reads meaning between the panels.

Swimming here becomes symbolic. It represents their upbringing, their visibility, and the kind of support they received. One was trained, perhaps even watched over. The other was forgotten, floating just below the threshold of recognition — until someone finally pulled him out. According to me, doc Dan’s true personality is the duck. (chapter 65) So teaching him how to swim will help him to reconnect with his true self and to find a meaning to his life.

And before closing this short second part, I would like to point out this observation: (chapter 14) This fight took place in April… the same month than the Sewol ferry tragedy. And the color of the poster is once again green. Is it a coincidence? I have my doubt here. And what did Randy Booker say to his opponent? He called him a baby (chapter 14) which led the protagonist to seek refuge in the bathroom, but here he couldn’t relax. (chapter 14) That’s how I realized that water is an element linked to childhood and as such motherhood! (chapter 72) Hence water was leaking from the ceiling at the boy’s feet: drip, drip… We need to ask ourselves why Joo Jaekyung learned how to swim in the end. (chapter 72) I have the impression that it is related to his mother… she could have died by drowning as well or the woman is connected to this sport. And the champion learned it as a legacy, a way to grieve, to cope with his loss. This would explain why he came to neglect swimming in the long run.

In the first part, I portrayed the mother in a relative negative light. Nevertheless, like mentioned before, we should never simplify life and persons. Humans are living beings, they are full of contradictions. The woman could have been selfish, but she could have been a good worker. I criticized Park Namwook for the way he treats the protagonist. Yet it is clear that he is a wonderful father and husband. The proof is that he has 3 children and they are all smiling. (chapter 45) And this brings me to my final thought: Kim Dan had to meet Hwang Byungchul for an important reason: to learn how to survive on his own, as he is still depressive. He is lectured how to become independent and how to find a real goal in his life. By confessing the terrible youth about the Emperor, the physical therapist gets to hear that he wasn’t the only one abandoned and in pain!! (chapter 72) (chapter 56) Moreover, he gets the opportunity to understand why “usefulness” became so important in the MMA fighter’s life. Through this confession, the other teddy bear gets to perceive that he has so many things in common with his fated partner. Both experienced abandonment, loss, poverty, bullying and only worked in their life too! They never got the opportunity to enjoy life to the fullest.

PS: And now, you know why I wanted to write the second part as quickly as possible, as 73 should be connected to episode 13 and 37!

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

Jinx: „What are you 🐺 doing here?“ 🐹 Between Crisis and Opportunity

This essay won’t be a long one, as today two new episodes from Jinx will be released. However, I found three articles from Jennifer Delgado which let me perceive the protagonists’ metamorphosis and the progression of the story.

The Dock as Turning Point

In episode 69 of Jinx, the question (Chapter 69) from the physical therapist is more than a startled greeting — it marks a critical shift in the psychological and emotional trajectory of both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. Standing at the dock, doc Dan, still recovering from his depression and trauma of the switched spray incident, sees the champion not as an invincible athlete, but as someone equally unmoored. He is surprised and confused by such a behavior. Why would he act that way? Hence the author added right after this image: (chapter 69) Striking is that the champion has a similar reaction. He never expected that he had misjudged his fated partner. Both characters are forced to face their own prejudices and bias. (Chapter 69) This moment is less about resolution and more about recognition: two men, shaped by different paths of burnout, collide again — but this time not as patient and caregiver, predator and prey, but as human beings in crisis.

Symbolically, the dock represents more than just a location — it is a threshold between two domains: between land and sea, safety and uncertainty, solitude and reconnection. (Chapter 69) It is a liminal space, a bridge between their former roles and whatever comes next. The fact that this unusual encounter and subtle interrogation happens here underscores the narrative’s shift from repression to potential transformation. It is the space where isolation ends and vulnerability begins — the exact place where emotional disconnection gives way to tentative reattachment. This announces the premises for their true future collaboration.

“It’s No Wonder Burnout Syndrome Hits This Field So Hard”

According to the article Growth Mindset in Healthcare: From Burnout to Breakthrough, burnout manifests not only through exhaustion but through rigid thinking: perfectionism, fear of failure, and fixed self-perception. The article points out that:

This line could describe Kim Dan’s reality perfectly. From taking double shifts (chapter 57) that go unnoticed to dealing with the emotional numbness of detachment, Kim Dan begins to resemble the article’s description of someone silently breaking down. (Chapter 59) Although he didn’t face difficult patients at the hospice (chapter 57), he approaches his work like a robot, emotionally disconnected from those in his care. The burnout is not only shaped by the hospital environment — it’s also deeply tied to his role with Joo Jaekyung. The champion became, in many ways, his most demanding patient (Chapter 14), with unrealistic expectations – chapter 41 (such as pushing for a premature return to the ring), and an emotional climate of pressure and perfectionism f (chapter 45) rom superiors, he fits the article’s description of someone burdened by a toxic professional environment. More importantly, in episode 57, a nurse casually mentions that he might be suffering from burnout. (Chapter 57) This offhand remark reveals that within the medical setting, the symptoms are visible to trained observers. And yet, the insight never reached the “hamster” or the “wolf.”

Dan internalizes his stress, rationalizes it as duty, (chapter 56) and isolates himself emotionally. Therefore he doesn’t engage in a conversation with the nurses. (Chapter 56) No wonder why the readers still don’t know the names of the three “angels in blue”’. Their presence is functional, but remains impersonal. They remain silent observants. (Chapter 57) Likewise, Jaekyung — despite not being in healthcare — he fits the article’s description of someone burdened by a toxic professional environment. (Chapter 27) He operates in an industry with crushing expectations, where performance is equated with survival. (Chapter 29) That’s why he doesn’t allow himself to rest.

Just as Kim Dan avoids emotional engagement with his peers — such as the nurses who sense his exhaustion — Jaekyung mirrors this relational withdrawal in the world of MMA. Other fighters are not allies but threats: in his own words, they are “hyenas”, always circling, waiting to take something from him. (Chapter 29) This worldview isolates him entirely. It’s no surprise, then, that his past with Baek Junmin remains shrouded in mystery (chapter 49), or that in the aftermath of the suspicious match, he blames him (chapter 69) and avoids speaking with Shotgun altogether. Instead of engaging in conversation, he contacts MFC — preferring institutional action over personal interaction.

This reinforces the parallel: both the hamster and the wolf have been conditioned to distrust their environment and the people in it. (Chapter 57) Since people don’t know them, they can not trust their judgement and perception. Both navigate high-stakes worlds that punish vulnerability and reward detachment. And both, when overwhelmed, retreat from human relationships rather than reaching out. They are, in different costumes, performing the same coping script — one that the article identifies as characteristic of fixed mindsets operating under systemic pressure and emotional isolation.

His perfectionism, his emotional suppression, the microstress accumulating from constant physical strain (chapter 19) and relational isolation all echo the article’s diagnosis:

Both men operate in systems where perfection is not just expected, it is demanded (chapter 59) — and any deviation from it is interpreted as personal failure. Here, it’s important that the hospice took advantage from the overworked protagonist. No one paid attention to the double shift. (Naturally, I am not saying that the main lead is blameless either). For Kim Dan, the patient’s fall in episode 59 (chapter 59) and the sabotage incident destroyed his self-perception as “doctor” and “helper”. (Chapter 59) This is reflected in the image where the author zoomed on the “main lead’s” hands or when he is holding the dead puppy. (Chapter 59) The hands have become the symbol of his powerlessness. For the wolf, the tie in his last match is perceived not as resilience, but as loss. (Chapter 51) Neither of them has been taught to see difficulty as an invitation to adapt. They both cling to a fixed mindset — until crisis breaks the pattern.

Rooted Burnout: Identity, Perfectionism, and Selflessness

Kim Dan’s depression and burnout are not caused solely by repressed traumas (Chapter 56) — they are also the result of two compounding forces: the champion’s perfectionism and the doctor’s own fixed mindset. (Chapter 64) This deeper entanglement explains why Dan ultimately rejects the celebrity. (Chapter 60) Though Dan has long suffered from low self-esteem, he has never questioned his sacrificial identity. It is as if he were destined — or conditioned — to care for others without regard for himself. (Chapter 29) He sees selflessness not as a virtue but as a default mode of survival. This explicates why he blames himself for the puppy’s death. Observe how Mingwa implied the relevance of the doctor’s hands while he was holding the poor puppy.  (Chapter 59)

At the same time, his view of work has always been transactional. In episode 1, he sees his first assignment at the hospital as a means to earn money (Chapter 1) — a way to repay debts. And it is the same, when he accepts his contract with the wolf. (Chapter 6) His grandmother reinforces this belief by reducing his worth to his earning capacity. This mindset is plainly illustrated in two key moments. In the first, she expresses her gratitude to the champion, because he gave him “a roof over his head and a salary.” (Chapter 65) These words reveal what truly matters to her: material provision and financial compensation. She does not seem to register the emotional toll the job may be taking on Dan, nor does she question the ethics of the contract or his living conditions. What she values is that her grandson is being paid and housed — signs of visible, quantifiable success.

In the second instance, she tells her “almost grandson” that (chapter 65) Dan has “only lived for her” so far, and that he surely has a “ton of things he wants to accomplish” now. This comment, which at first sounds like encouragement, in fact exposes her own worldview: a life worth living is one centered on achievement, productivity, and external validation. The idea of simply resting, recovering, or living quietly does not even occur to her. When she urges that Dan should go back to Seoul to pursue his “best life,” (Chapter 65) it becomes clear that for her, the capital is more than a location — it is a symbol of success, of competition, of visibility. She cannot imagine a fulfilling life outside that framework, and thus unknowingly erases Dan’s internal world: his trauma, exhaustion, and grief. To conclude, all her ideas are revolving around career, success and wealth. Work, in this logic, is not about pride, passion, or healing — it is about obligation. This began to shift when he started working with Jaekyung and discovers a different kind of validation: (chapter 62) the athlete’s success gave him a sense of purpose. No wonder why he took everything so personally.

But when the champion rejected him in the locker room, even blamed him (chapter 51), this fragile new identity got shattered. Dan loses not just a client or income source — he loses the first glimpse of professional dignity. (Chapter 51) The rejection didn’t just hurt emotionally; it disoriented him existentially. In that light, it is no coincidence that he ends up working at a hospice — a place symbolically linked to endings, quiet resignation, and the final stages of life. (Chapter 56) The hospice marks not just a physical retreat from his past, but a psychological one: a setting that echoes his emotional state. While his body continues to function, his inner life has entered a form of dormancy. His role in this environment reflects how deeply detached he has become — professionally, emotionally, and existentially. The job had become more than money, but now that it’s gone, he can no longer look forward. He feels lonely and rootless. (Chapter 56) His fears, his trauma, and his ingrained selflessness trap him in a state of emotional and professional paralysis.

Rescue as Absolution

The arrival of the champion in the seaside town, asking him to return (chapter 60), functions as a form of emotional absolution, though doc Dan is not aware of it. This job offer is an indirect proof that he is still seen as competent and trustworthy. (Chapter 62) If Jaekyung had not come himself, it would have confirmed Dan’s worst fears: that he was to blame, that he was discarded. The first crack in his fixed mindset comes from this gesture — an external acknowledgment that the so-called “sin” may not have been his at all. This explicates why Kim Dan can give him the cold shoulder and even ignore him. (Chapter 61) It helps him to boost his strength and confidence. From that moment on, he is capable to express his own thoughts and as such criticize the star. (Chapter 64)

From Bewilderment to Presence

But transformation is not linear. By episode 69, Dan is still weighed down by unprocessed guilt and emotional avoidance. (Chapter 69) His stunned reaction — “ (chapter 69) and the subsequent panel of him thinking “…?” (Chapter 69) reflect not openness, but bewilderment and curiosity. He cannot yet process why someone like Joo Jaekyung would show up so dramatically, defying his usual patterns of control and distance. This is not a confrontation, but a moment of interrogation and emotional inversion — Jaekyung is acting unusually, and Dan is quietly observing, almost uncertain whether to trust the shift. That moment marks a subtle but pivotal turn: Dan, no longer collapsed, is present and attentive. And Jaekyung, for the first time, shows emotional transparency rather than dominance. (Chapter 69) Their positions are shifting — slowly, hesitantly — toward mutual recognition.

Meanwhile, the champion is also unraveling — not due to a single catastrophic event, but from sustained microstress, as defined in the article Microstress: The Silent Stress That Accumulates.

The athlete’s burnout stems from the relentless pressure of performance, the perfectionism and the obsession (chapter 69) with the title instilled by his hyung, the constant bodily strain, and his emotional isolation. Most crucially, he interprets his last match — a tie — as a personal failure. For someone with a fixed mindset, a tie is not balance; it’s inadequacy. Therefore it is not surprising that the athlete is not realizing that the outcome of his match has been changed from tie to loss.

At the dock, when the champion turns around and sees Kim Dan standing upright — not collapsed or fleeing — it destabilizes his expectations. (Chapter 69) Dan’s very presence communicates something new: emotional steadiness, however tentative. And for the first time, Jaekyung doesn’t respond with control, but with vulnerability. (Chapter 69) The hug becomes a form of speech — an action that acknowledges fear, relief and desire for connection.

Catharsis or Change?

This is where the article Talking About Emotions Is Not Enough becomes essential. It argues that simply talking about feelings is not transformation; catharsis without action becomes a trap:

Shin Okja illustrates this point vividly. She shares her emotions and fears with the “wolf”, appearing vulnerable and reflective (Chapter 65) — yet she changes nothing. How so? She could have talked to the nurse, and the latter would have brought up the possibility of “burnout”. She frames her grandson as a victim (chapter 65) and herself as helpless, yet her only move is to push him away under the guise of concern (Chapter 65) She never confesses directly to Dan, nor does she take responsibility for her past actions. (Chapter 65) Instead, she subtly enlists the champion as a parental substitute, urging him to care for the “sick” Dan. (Chapter 65) She imagines, pills will work their magic.

She sees in the champion an opportunity to unburden herself and outsource responsibility. But her strategy is not to help Dan become independent — rather, it is to have Jaekyung act as a caretaker, reinforcing the narrative that Dan is weak. Her emotional confession is not accompanied by a willingness to change or empower; it is yet another performance to ensure that others, not herself, do the hard work of care (Chapter 65) and repair.

Her version of catharsis is hollow. She uses emotional language not to empower Dan, but to preserve her own comfort. She remains passive, speaking around Dan instead of to him. In contrast, the champion’s eventual confession to Dan is direct, emotionally honest, and followed by behavioral change. He doesn’t just reveal his emotions — he takes action. He questions his routines and believes, leaves Seoul (chapter 61) , and approaches Dan not as a star reclaiming property, but as a person reaching out.

Practicing the Growth Mindset: Five Dimensions in Action

The article Growth Mindset in Healthcare: From Burnout to Breakthrough outlines five practical strategies that reflect a shift from fixed to growth mindset. Each of these aligns with key moments and changes in both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung — not as traits they naturally possess, but as difficult, earned responses that emerge through crisis.

1. Stay curious and keep learning

This shift begins subtly in episode 69. Kim Dan’s reaction (Chapter 69) signals not disdain or reproach, but curiosity. He no longer responds with total avoidance. The champion’s behavior destabilizes his old script, and for the first time, Dan is asking questions rather than shutting down. Jaekyung, in turn, also shows curiosity by seeking out Dan in person rather than defaulting to control or silence.

2. Focus on progress, not perfection

Jaekyung begins to shed his perfectionist mindset when he acknowledges his own limitations and emotional needs over performance. (Chapter 69) He no longer focuses only on the next fight or media appearance — instead, he chooses emotional repair. Dan also learns to value life over denial. Hence we see him holding bags, certainly containing food. During the episode 69, the incident in the courtyard served as a wake-up call that he could no longer deny his mental illness. After his collapse, he gets back up, and is seen wearing his sports shoes. (Chapter 69) These items indicate the transformation in the doctor’s life. From my point of view, it announces the arrival of sports in his life.

3. View challenges as chances to grow

Both characters are forced to reframe challenges: Dan’s rejection and burnout become moments of reflection (chapter 62), not annihilation. Jaekyung’s emptiness and misery after the tie becomes the emotional opening that allows him to ask for connection, the more the hamster pushes him away.

4. Practice constructive self-talk

We begin to see this shift subtly in Dan’s refusal to collapse into guilt. He begins to set boundaries (chapter 60), stops apologizing constantly, and even expresses irritation or his discomfort. (Chapter 67) Meanwhile, Jaekyung drops his script of invincibility and openly acknowledges his need for Dan. Neither of them says the perfect thing — but they are no longer using self-talk to punish themselves.

5. Be kind to yourself

This final dimension is visible most clearly in their embrace. The celebrity, who once saw human softness as weakness, now offers comfort. (Chapter 68) For him, vulnerability and empathy are no longer rejected, rather embraced and accepted. (Chapter 68) Dan, who once viewed care as something he must earn, (Chapter 69) begins to receive it. It is not a grand declaration, but a quiet shift: you can fail or cause a ruckus, and still be loved. Hence he doesn’t push away the wolf on the dock.

Modeling a Growth Mindset

Thus, I deduce that Jaekyung is becoming what the grandmother could have been: someone who turns vulnerability into connection and growth. And importantly, his growing acceptance of Kim Dan’s vulnerability marks a turning point not only for their relationship, but for his own inner evolution. By caring for someone fragile (chapter 69), the star begins to extend that care inward. Each gesture of empathy toward Dan becomes a step closer to self-compassion. In learning to protect someone else without demanding perfection, the wolf is learning, perhaps for the first time, that he too deserves kindness — not just from others, but from himself. He models what the article calls a true “growth mindset” — one that sees failure not as final, but as a catalyst for relational and emotional evolution.

In the end, the question “What are you doing here?” captures a shared moment of disorientation, but also potential. Neither of them expected such a meeting. But it is precisely in that space — between crisis and opportunity — that transformation begins.

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/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: The Truth 🕵🏼‍♂️ Behind The Oath Of Hippocrates ⚕️

The Hippocratic Oath, one of the oldest binding documents in history, originates from Ancient Greece and has long been regarded as the ethical foundation of Western medicine. Traditionally attributed to Hippocrates, often called the ‘Father of Medicine’, the oath originally included commitments to treat the sick to the best of one’s ability, to preserve patient confidentiality, and to pass on medical knowledge without demanding payment.

Over centuries, this oath has undergone numerous revisions to reflect the changing nature of medicine and ethics in society. While its core values—non-maleficence, beneficence, and fidelity—remain intact, modern versions are more secular and inclusive, often omitting archaic references to gods or master-apprentice hierarchies. The intention behind the oath has always been clear: to put the well-being of the patient first and to uphold the dignity and responsibility of the medical profession. These noble intentions raise important questions in today’s context. To what extent are they still fulfilled? Do contemporary medical professionals act in the spirit of this oath? And can structural realities—limited time, profit-driven care, burnout—undermine a physician’s ability to live up to its promise?

These critical perspectives crystallized while reading Chapter 67 of Jinx, and triggered a thought-provoking exchange between my friend @Milliformemes2024 and me. Our diverging interpretations of the sleep specialist in chapter 67 helped to shed new light on the enduring relevance—but also the limitations—of the Hippocratic tradition. What began as a discussion about a single consultation evolved into a broader reflection on symbolic language, institutional care, and the ethical cost of modern medicine. In truth, both perspectives hold merit. Our conversation mirrored a larger dialogue between Idealism and Reality: one of us defending the emotional depth and symbolic resonance in care, the other grounded in the necessity of boundaries and pragmatism. This essay unfolds in three parts: first, a symbolic analysis of the sleep specialist and the contrasting figure of Cheolmin; second, a comparison of institutional care and how financial motives shape medical ethics; and third, a visual exploration of hospitals and their architectural relationship to nature.

The Sleep Specialist and the Invisible Patient

Our discussion began with differing impressions of the sleep specialist in Chapter 67. My friend viewed her approach as textbook (chapter 67): the brief diagnosis, the recommendation for weekly visits, the specialist’s tentative attribution of Kim Dan’s condition to either alcohol or a possible psychological cause, emphasizing the need for continued observation and weekly visits before offering a definitive diagnosis —all standard responses. For her, this was a doctor following routine procedure without overstepping professional boundaries. However, I perceived her behavior very differently. I saw someone who remained emotionally detached and almost absent, reducing the complexity of Kim Dan’s condition to simplistic surface-level causes without genuine inquiry.

This divergence in opinion hinged on what each of us prioritized. My friend appreciated the clinical neutrality, interpreting it as a mark of competence. I, however, found it troubling—too minimal, the possible psychological cause was only mentioned. The symbolism in her appearance intensified my reaction. She is portrayed eyeless, a metaphor for her blindness—not in vision, but in perception. Her gaze is absent; her diagnostic process relies not on what she sees but on what others report, most notably, Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 67) Rather than forming an independent assessment, she accepts the narrative of a third party, which introduces bias and limits her understanding. One might argue about that, because she is looking at a paper, probably result of a blood test which seems to corroborate the guardian’s statement. Hence the sleep specialist concludes that Kim Dan is suffering from insomnia, alcohol addiction and sleepwalking. The problem is that his statement is based on external observations (halmoni and the landlord) and their limited knowledge. Moreover, Jinx-philes should keep in mind two important aspects: (chapter 61) The champion had been himself suffering from similar symptoms which could be seen as a projection on his loved one. Additionally, based on previous observations, I have interpreted Kim Dan’s nightly walks not merely as sleepwalking, but as dissociative episodes—likely triggered by overwhelming guilt, unresolved trauma, and a chronic sense of disconnection from his body and surroundings. But how could the champion know about this? He’s not a doctor himself. In order to have a more accurate picture of the whole situation, she should have talked to the patient himself. But by relying on papers and the guardian’s testimony, she not only distances herself from the patient physically and emotionally, but also delegates the responsibility of interpretation. She is using the eyes of others.

She wears an open white coat, (chapter 67) revealing a light green pullover layered over a white shirt—clothing that clearly belongs to her private wardrobe. This visual detail suggests a separation between her personal identity and her professional role. It’s as if donning the coat is enough to signal her authority, without requiring emotional engagement. The coat becomes a badge, not a commitment.

Yet one could argue that this very distinction is essential. The boundary between self and profession is what prevents the physician from becoming emotionally overwhelmed. Without such a barrier, the practitioner might absorb too much of the patient’s pain—leading not only to fatigue but to burnout. (chapter 57) Perhaps the doctor’s detachment is not indifference, but a survival mechanism in a healthcare system that demands efficiency over intimacy.

The white coat in this scene does not function as a symbol of care (chapter 67): it becomes an emblem of role-playing. What caught my attention is that she doesn’t directly address the patient, she doesn’t ask him any question either. She is not curious at all. If she had, she would have heard this: (chapter 67) indicating that his alcohol addiction is not the real reason for his insomnia. Then she fails to examine Kim Dan physically, the desk is between them. Therefore she can not detect his visible malnourishment.

But she couldn’t see it, as she relied on second-hand testimony (Joo Jaekyung’s words). The irony is that the latter failed to notice it. Each time he saw the doctor’s body, he got aroused. (chapter 62) Moreover, both the landlord and the grandmother never brought up this aspect, though Shin Okja had observed this terrible transformation: (chapter 57)

And this raises the following question. Why did the sleep specialist not question the main lead directly and relied on other sources? (chapter 66) It is because the physical therapist is just a number (2) and as such a file. Therefore the doctor is not seeing the patient as a human. I can not blame the woman either, for she has so many patients to treat during the day. And now look at the building of the hospital: (chapter 66). It is huge reminding me of a factory. This “modern hospital” with its sleek architecture, expansive buildings, and impressive specialization exudes a sense of advancement and trustworthiness. Yet beneath this polished surface lies a business-oriented structure, one that prizes efficiency, reputation, and patient turnover over genuine patient connection. This “modern hospital” (chapter 67) functions like one factory: patients are numbers in a queue, doctors are overloaded, and individual care becomes secondary to systemic goals. The very design of the building reflects this: towering facades and compartmentalized departments, where nature and warmth are pushed to the background. In such an environment, the Hippocratic Oath—rooted in ideals of empathy, presence, and personal responsibility—is reduced to ritual, overshadowed by institutional pragmatism and economic demands. Hence she is simply treating his symptoms: insomnia and “sleepwalking”! She is prescribing him “sleeping pills”. (chapter 67) She is doing exactly what Shin Okja wanted: (chapter 65) (chapter 65) It is as though thanks to the drug, the odd behavior from Kim Dan would simply vanish. (chapter 67) That’s the reason why Mingwa didn’t give the doctor a name. She has become a soulless doctor, like a robot. On the one hand, the absence of her name implies that she is not trying to seek fame like Kim Miseon (chapter 5) with the new medicine. On the other hand, it implies that the light-brown haired woman is doing her job for her paycheck which reminds me of Cheolmin’s statement: (chapter 13): “Oh no, no. That won’t do. My precious paycheck!”.

This “namelessness” is not a coincidence. It mirrors how large hospitals treat their staff: as interchangeable parts of a system that prioritizes efficiency and profit over personalized care. (chapter 67) The sleep specialist becomes a faceless figure in an institution where doctors are overworked, underpaid, and pressured to diagnose quickly. Her task is not to heal, but to manage—preferably in under 10 minutes. This reminds me of a confession I received from my own osteopath-orthopedist-chiropractor. He once told me that in hospitals (Germany), proper care is nearly impossible. Due to pressure and time constraints, most doctors are given no more than two or three minutes per patient. As a result, many end up recommending surgery as the default solution—not necessarily because it’s the best, but because it’s fast and system-approved.

Disillusioned by this assembly-line approach, he eventually left the hospital and opened his own private practice. There, he devotes at least one full hour to each new patient—first to examine, then to diagnose, and finally to treat them himself. I remain deeply grateful to him, because he was the only one able to resolve my long-standing shoulder and neck pain. While others focused on symptoms—treating the neck in isolation—he identified the true origin: spinal blockages further down the column. What struck me even more is that he once recognized signs of depression in a patient—not through tests or charts, but simply by observing how the symptoms would worsen or improve. He talks to his patients while treating them, listening not only to their words, but also to their bodies. This interaction allows him to adjust the treatment in real-time and to notice subtle signs others might miss. That’s what makes him a true healer. He doesn’t rush; he takes his time and creates space for the patient to be seen and heard. In doing so, he provides something that modern hospitals often fail to offer: attention without judgment, and care without hurry.

On the other hand, he also confided in me that he has learned to select his patients. Some individuals came to him with fixed expectations, treating him like a service provider rather than a medical expert. They arrived with their own self-diagnoses and requests, expecting him to execute treatment plans they had already designed in their minds. In those cases, he had to draw a line—because healing, in his view, depends on trust and dialogue, not on fulfilling demands. A doctor, he reminded me, is not a technician carrying out orders, but someone who must observe, assess, and guide with discernment. This dynamic reminded me of Joo Jaekyung, who often treated both Dr. Lee and Kim Dan (chapter 27) (chapter 49) as mere service providers. Whether it was brushing off medical advice with “Don’t push it, I know my body better than anyone else” (chapter 27) or demanding instant pain relief to continue training (chapter 49), the champion positioned himself as the ultimate authority over his own treatment. Since his attitude echoed the confession of my osteopath, it is understandable why my osteopath-orthopedist began to select his patients carefully. This mirrors Kim Dan’s evolution, when the latter chose to reject the champion’s offer. Indirectly, he is “learning” to select his job and not take them by opportunism. He is also learning to select his “patients”. Striking is that Shin Okja has a similar attitude than the athlete. (chapter 7) She desired to have a treatment with less side effects and less painful. And the moment she was confronted with reality, this painful new treatment only brought pain and nothing more, she chose to leave this institution and move elsewhere. (chapter 53) Therefore it is not surprising that she is treating the protagonist the same way: she knows what is the best for him. (chapter 57) She is treating him like a service-provider, she is now rejecting that he has lost his “usefulness”. His pay here is not high, …

But let’s return our attention to the anonymous sleep specialist. The latter has just become a victim of this terrible health system. She is not engaging with Kim Dan’s trauma, nor investigating his psyche, for she doesn’t have the time for it. Her task is not to heal deeply, but to manage efficiently. Secondly, she is specialized in sleep medicine, so she is no psychologist or psychiatrist. Therefore it is not surprising that she is focusing on certain aspects. But sending him to a different department would mean that she would lose her „new patient“. If you have ever watched series about hospitals, you are aware of the competition between departments. Here I can recommend the K-drama LIFE. Since she is more treating him in such a short time, it is not astonishing that doc Dan is doubting her words, (chapter 67) and not even following her recommendation. (chapter 67) He felt misjudged and misunderstood; reduced to a file number, not seen as a complex human being.

However, there’s more to it. Two details stood out to me in particular. First, consider what the anonymous doctor told Joo Jaekyung (chapter 67) and second, what Kim Dan actually received as treatment: (chapter 67) pills in a plastic bag marked with a standard instruction: “Take with food”. These two panels capture more than a routine prescription, they reveal the institutional deflection of responsibility and the impersonal mechanics of care.

By printing the instruction on the packaging rather than saying it aloud, the doctor shields herself from accountability. If something goes wrong, she can point to the label. She doesn’t have to engage, explain, or ensure understanding. It’s a subtle but calculated transfer of responsibility—from physician to patient, and even more so, to the guardian. Now it’s not just Kim Dan who’s expected to monitor himself, but Joo Jaekyung as well. The burden of care is silently offloaded onto those least equipped to manage it.

What makes it worse is that Joo Jaekyung is never shown holding or reading the bag. The implication? He likely never noticed the fine print at all. No one is actively guiding the treatment. No one is watching over Kim Dan.

Her verbal emphasis is even more revealing. Instead of discussing the food requirement or giving Kim Dan any personal advice, she delivers a single, sweeping command: “Drinking is off-limits.” It’s not just vague—it’s scolding. The patient’s alcoholism isn’t treated; it’s sidelined. The system checks the boxes—and moves on. It frames her as an authority figure who cares more about issuing warnings than offering help. There’s no nuance, no tailored support, no effort to build trust. What Kim Dan hears is not empathy, but judgment. He’s treated as a risk to be managed, not a human being to be helped. She can only reinforce his low self-esteem: he‘s a burden.

This is what deepens his sense of being misdiagnosed, as if the doctor was painting his condition so negatively in order to scare him. He doesn’t receive insight or compassion—he receives protocol. And in a healthcare system ruled by efficiency and liability protection, the doctor’s priority becomes covering herself—not ensuring the well-being of her patient.

The invisible doctor and the visible patient

Cheolmin (chapter 13), in contrast, enters the story with no white coat at all. He carries only a doctor’s bag, dressed in a green pullover and a beige checkered shirt. (chapter 13) Despite this informal attire, he immediately recognizes Kim Dan’s symptoms and engages both the guardian and the patient. He doesn’t need institutional support to assert authority; his presence and diagnostic clarity define him. While his clothes might elsewhere be read as conservative or emotionally restrained, here they highlight that care can come outside rigid systems.

Previously, we interpreted Cheolmin’s clothing as a reflection of a certain emotional reserve. The beige checkered shirt, covered by the green pullover, suggests a guarded personality; someone who perhaps maintains a protective layer between his professional and emotional worlds. And yet, this emotional caution doesn’t hinder his ability to act with warmth and competence. (chapter 13) Quite the opposite. He doesn’t hide behind his distance; he manages it. His approach is practical and grounded, but never cold. He doesn’t wear a white coat, yet he brings with him a doctor’s case and an unshakable sense of responsibility. His tools are simple (his own body), (chapter 13) his posture relaxed, and his tone—often sprinkled with humor—adds a human touch that the eyeless doctor sorely lacks. And what is the cause for this huge difference? It is because the “famous sleep specialist” is relying on her institution (nurses, blood tests, drugs). She is following a procedure, as the visit took place at the hospital.

Unlike Cheolmin, who uses his emotional detachment constructively, the sleep specialist disappears behind it. She neither touches nor addresses the patient directly. She offers no humor, no effort to ease the atmosphere—only sterile authority and detached warnings.

Ironically, while Cheolmin may seem less emotionally expressive at first glance, he is far more emotionally present. His humor isn’t just a personal trait—it’s a therapeutic tool. (chapter 13) It bridges the gap between roles, making the patient feel seen rather than categorized. There’s no judgement in their relationship. The eyeless doctor may appear neutral, but in truth, she is hollow. Cheolmin appears reserved, yet his actions speak with empathy. Where she recites guidelines, he initiates dialogue. (chapter 13) Where she avoids involvement, he offers engagement.

In short, Cheolmin’s clothes reflect thoughtful distance—not absence. He remains attentive, responsive, and subtly warm. His restraint is a choice, not a flaw. And it is precisely this contrast that reveals what the Hippocratic Oath should still mean today: presence, humility, and care; and not money, drug and efficiency.

The positions between my friend and me reflect a core conflict between reality and idealism. She values adherence to clinical norms and sees the specialist’s behavior as a rational expression of professional boundaries. Emotional distance, she argued, is often necessary—not just to ensure objectivity, but also to protect healthcare professionals from burnout, especially in overburdened systems. I agreed in principle, but maintained that detachment becomes damaging to the patients and the doctors. It affects the relationship between them, because it prevents accurate diagnosis or erases the patient’s voice entirely or the patient starts seeing himself as a “client” and the doctor as his “service provider”. A middle ground must be found—where presence doesn’t equate to over-involvement, but where empathy still has space. My orthopedist found his solution: open a small office where he tries to help his patients to avoid surgeries. He told me: “The first surgery in his field is always an option, the second one will always be a necessity.”

Moreover, our analysis acknowledged the limitations the doctor faces. The specialist likely juggles a tight schedule. A queue of patients, like the one displayed before Kim Dan’s session, signals the industrial rhythm of care. In such a system, she may not have time for deeper engagement. But for patients like Kim Dan—vulnerable, undernourished, spiraling emotionally—this neglect can reinforce their invisibility. In contrast, Joo Jaekyung receives deferential treatment, because he is famous. The medical world depicted in Jinx bends toward prestige, not need.

This contrast reveals something vital: in medicine, presence matters. The specialist hides behind procedures. Cheolmin shows up. The white coat, then, becomes a mirror: does it reflect a vocation or disguise institutional distance?

Institutions and Ideals—Comparing the Medical World of Jinx

In Jinx, medical care unfolds within a tapestry of institutions—anonymously vast hospitals (chapter 61) (chapter 67), the Light of Hope hospice (chapter 61), the sleek University hospital dedicated to research (chapter 5), and more intimate yet modern facilities like this one.(Chapter 27) Each medical setting not only has its own architecture but also its own moral blueprint. In the essay “Doctor Romantic 3 (locked)“, I had already compared doctor Lee’s workplace and behavior to the “beautiful Kim Miseon” from the University Hospital. Season 2 introduced us to new institutions. Each place claims authority through professional codes and visual symbols, but the deeper narrative explores how care is either embodied or abandoned. Mingwa uses attire, body language, and structure to draw sharp distinctions between appearance and intent.

Kim Miseon (chapter 5) from Sallim University Seongshim Hospital: This research-driven university hospital is connected to Kim Miseon, the doctor who prescribed a new experimental treatment for the grandmother. (chapter 5) Despite the pristine exterior of the building and the promise of scientific advancement, her actions raise ethical concerns. She dilvuged information in the hallway. (chapter 21) Then the treatment’s failure is attributed either to the grandmother’s frailty or Kim Dan’s late arrival and absence, subtly shifting blame. (chapter 21) Like mentioned before, this treatment wasn’t even properly recorded in the patient file raising the suspicion of deliberate concealment. (chapter 56) It appears as “pain killers”. Her open white coat (chapter 21), worn over a green uniform resembling surgical scrubs, aligns her visually with institutional authority, while her eyeless portrayal emphasizes detachment. (chapter 21) Her motivation seems driven not by compassion but ambition: a pursuit of recognition and success through experimental medicine, regardless of consequence. It seems that this new therapy didn’t bring her the results she hoped, and strangely later director Choi Gilseok (chapter 48) got aware of Shin Okja’s conditions, implying that patient confidentiality had been breached.

Park Junmin (Chapter 61): In contrast, Park Junmin (chapter 61) represents the polished face of a business-oriented clinic. While his office projects sleekness and personalized care, his comments betray his priorities. He praises Joo Jaekyung’s fame and urges a return to the ring—not out of medical concern, but because it would guarantee the champion’s return as a paying patient. He wants to retain a high-profile client. His friendliness is strategic. (chapter 61) He does not embody the Hippocratic Oath but rather a service model. The coat becomes a costume that sells recovery. It is clear that he is promoting his own hospital. Joo Jaekyung, however, surprises him by refusing (chapter 61), highlighting that the athlete has become aware of what genuine care should look like. When the champion calmly declares, “I’ll be receiving rehabilitation services in another hospital,” Junmin answers with a stunned “Sorry?”. But this is not confusion. It’s a reflexive mask for shock. He did not expect to lose control of the situation. Beneath that one-word response lies disbelief, disappointment, and veiled panic. He’s losing a lucrative patient—and more importantly, a public endorsement. The moment exposes how fragile his authority truly is when faced with a patient asserting autonomy. Let’s not forget that when the champion was facing a mental and emotional breakdown, the latter offered no other support than “rest”. He even avoided his gaze. (chapter 54) The athlete was left on his own.

Light of Hope Director (Chapter 59): At first glance, the hospice appears to be underfunded and outdated. (chapter 61) However, its director breaks expectations. Unlike the smooth-talking or indifferent doctors at larger institutions, he is directly involved in patient care. (chapter 56) He informs the physical therapist about the grandmother’s condition, works late at night (chapter 60), criticizes people for their rude behavior (chapter 59) or actively disciplines staff (chapter 59) when mistakes are made. Though he also flatters the champion (chapter 61) and sees promotional potential, he never exploits patients. (chapter 61) The juxtaposition of humility and responsibility in his demeanor, combined with his stunned reactions to sudden events, suggests an overworked and understaffed environment—but not one without moral grounding. His white coat and blue medical uniform echo the nurses’ attire, subtly promoting a sense of equity among staff. Despite being a director, he doesn’t separate himself from frontline caregivers. His uniform also contrasts with the green worn by Kim Miseon or Park Miseon, suggesting a focus on practical responsibility over prestige. By blending in with the team, he fosters a culture of shared accountability, not rigid hierarchy. Among all institutional figures, he comes closest to balancing authority with integrity.

Hospital Director (Chapter 6): While this figure appears authoritative (chapter 1), the details of his attire tell another story. Wearing a suit beneath his coat implies professionalism, but here it also suggests a business-driven mindset. The coat becomes a sleek outer layer masking deeper intentions. His charming demeanor conceals a more sinister reality—he weaponizes authority for personal gain. His use of professional attire isn’t about respectability but manipulation. Beneath the surface, profit, control, and coercion drive his actions. (chapter 1) The white coat, in his case, is not a symbol of healing but a façade for exploitation. drives his authority. The coat becomes a literal cover for abuse—harassment disguised under professionalism. His entire persona is a façade: calculated, charming on the surface, but predatory and morally bankrupt beneath.

The Sleep Specialist (Chapter 67): (chapter 67) Eyeless and detached, the sleep doctor treats Kim Dan without any emotional or physical engagement. Her absence of a name symbolizes depersonalization. She doesn’t speak directly to Kim Dan, doesn’t examine him, and only echoes what she heard from Joo Jaekyung. The prescription she offers is another layer of critique. The instruction “Take with food” appears only in print—never verbally stressed—thus shifting liability. If Kim Dan suffers side effects or mixes medication with alcohol, responsibility falls on him or his guardian. This is institutional medicine in its most risk-averse form: impersonal, quick, and shielded from consequence.

Dr. Lee (Chapter 27): Dr. Lee is the only named and truly visible doctor. (chapter 27) His gray shirt signals a more relaxed approach, (chapter 27) and his facial expression conveys a certain empathy—though his words also betray resignation. He sits beside the patient, not opposite, visually erasing the typical hierarchical divide between doctor and athlete. His recommendation that Joo Jaekyung rest is gently delivered, but he knows it will likely be ignored. He represents the tension between medical idealism and the pressures of athletic performance. He is trying his best to protect Joo Jaekyung’s career. (chapter 27) Notably, he doesn’t chase fame or loyalty—he’s realistic, yet still rooted in care. (chapter 27) His clinic, with open blinds and wide windows, stands for transparency and modern ethics.

Cheolmin (Chapter 13): (chapter 13) Finally, Cheolmin exists outside the hospital system. He wears no white coat, but his behavior mirrors a true physician’s. He diagnoses accurately, gives immediate advice, and engages both patient and guardian. His attire—a shirt layered under another—might suggest emotional restraint, but it doesn’t interfere with his actions. He jokes and teases, breaking through tension and inviting trust. He acts not because protocol demands it, but because someone needs help. That’s enough.

This comparative tableau reveals that white coats do not guarantee compassion—and their absence doesn’t negate it. In Jinx, only those who break institutional molds offer real help. The rest follow protocols, serve systems, and sometimes cause harm through inaction or self-interest. It exposes that doctors are simply humans and not gods.

Furthermore, the financial aspect underpins all these interactions. Hospitals in Jinx are not purely charitable; they’re businesses. The emphasis on new medicine, fame, or facility branding often outweighs the patient’s actual condition. Misdiagnoses, evasions, and moral compromises follow from this reality.

Kim Dan’s journey through these institutions underscores how vulnerable patients are when medicine is transactional. Blame is subtly shifted. Responsibility is diffused. And yet, in emergencies, the expectation remains: doctors should act.

Nature, Architecture, and the Illusion of Healing

A striking feature in Jinx is the architectural integration of nature into hospital design. (chapter 67) Trees and greenery appear in every facility—but their placement and symbolism vary. These visual cues subtly reveal each institution’s philosophy of care.

At the university hospital where Kim Miseon works, (chapter 41) nature is neatly confined. Rooftop gardens and structured greenery exist, but more as visual accessories than lived environments. The hospital is a towering research center, representing scientific advancement—but also bureaucratic coldness. Here, nature exists to impress, not to comfort. This artificial balance between concrete and green reflects a clinical detachment: nature is curated, not embraced. It aligns perfectly with Kim Miseon’s demeanor—professional, pristine, but ultimately distant and ambition-driven.the environment feels controlled. (chapter 41)

In the rain-drenched hospital (chapter 54) where Joo Jaekyung receives treatment, the rooftop greenery appears remote and ornamental, disconnected from patient care. (chapter 61) Nature is present but removed, almost symbolic of lost ideals. The building is imposing, gray, and bureaucratic, which is quite similar to the university hospital.

In the sleep therapy hospital (chapter 67), the setting amplifies this detachment. Trees do appear, but they are overwhelmed by massive, impersonal structures. The greenery seems almost trapped, overshadowed by glass and steel. This mirrors the interaction with the sleep specialist, who issues warnings and prescriptions without genuine communication. In this environment, nature is not a partner in healing—it is background noise, a symbolic performance of care in a place that prioritizes liability and speed over connection.

By contrast, the Light of Hope hospice (chapters 61) is embedded in a hillside, its architecture low to the ground, surrounded by untamed, organic greenery. The trees are not ornamental—they embrace the building, echoing a kind of natural protection. Nature here is not only real, but alive. It reflects the ethos of the institution: flawed, underfunded, but grounded in human presence. The hospital director may wear a coat, but his modest blue uniform aligns him visually with the nurses, suggesting equity and participation rather than hierarchy. Just like the unpolished trees, he is there not to be admired but to serve.

A fourth setting appears with Dr. Lee’s clinic (chapter 27). The building is smaller, (chapter 18) modern, and set among scattered trees. (chapter 18) Large windows suggest openness and transparency—the very qualities Dr. Lee brings to his interaction. This is a space that, while modest, is genuinely attentive. Here, nature doesn’t impress, it is integrated in the landscape. The park is not surrounded by huge buildings.

Through these varied landscapes, Jinx critiques the illusion of healing as something that can be staged through architecture. It exposes how hospitals, like people, can hide behind appearances. Trees and plants, like white coats and professional titles, can be used to mask indifference just as easily as they can accompany real care. Healing does not bloom in greenery alone—it flourishes through presence, attentiveness, and trust.

Yet these visual patterns also contain hope. The presence of even small parks and rooftop gardens within institutional designs reflects an underlying truth: nature matters. (chapter 41) These green spaces acknowledge, even if superficially, that human beings do not heal through medicine alone. They need sunlight, air, softness—a sense of rhythm beyond fluorescent lights and steel corridors. Nature grounds. It breathes.

That is why the small town, (chapter 65) nestled in the countryside and far from institutional rigidity, emerges as a space of true potential. In returning there, Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan are not just escaping their past—they are moving toward a form of healing that modern hospitals imitate but rarely achieve. Closer to nature, they are closer to themselves. If hospitals imitate forests, the village becomes the forest. And in that simplicity, Jinx suggests, real happiness might grow.

Conclusions

From open to closed, from crisp to wrinkled, the white coat becomes a symbol of ideology. Some wear it like armor, others like a mask—and some not at all. But it is not just the coat that deceives. Buildings too wear their own uniforms. Grand glass hospitals draped in rooftop gardens and courtyard trees promise healing, yet often fail to deliver. Nature becomes another costume—just like the coat.

But Jinx reminds us: real care cannot be faked. It is revealed not through polished surfaces or institutional prestige, but in action—staying late, listening carefully, protecting the vulnerable. The doctors who truly heal are those who treat the person, not the file.

And why, then, do so few doctors recommend sunlight, trees, or quiet walks? The answer is simple: nature costs nothing. It cannot be patented or billed. And yet, its presence in every hospital design is a silent confession that healing lies outside the system. That, in the end, true recovery begins where profit ends. This is precisely what Jinx shows through Joo Jaekyung’s arc: once he leaves the sterile confines of the gym and begins spending time outdoors, (chapter 62) surrounded by greenery, animals, and people who don’t treat him as a product—his health improves. His muscles may still ache, but mentally and emotionally, he is lighter. Research confirms what the story suggests: sunlight and time in nature significantly boost mental health. In that way, his borrowed floral pants and farmwork reflect something deeper—a return to balance. Nature becomes not just a background, but a remedy.

The Hippocratic Oath promised to do no harm. But in a medical world where patients are reduced to symptoms, empathy is replaced by protocol, and care becomes a product, harm happens quietly—disguised in good intentions and sealed with institutional polish.

And yet, what the Oath once embodied still exists—just not in the systems that claim it. It lives in a shared meal, a walk under trees, a quiet moment in the sun. (chapter 57) It lives where no one is watching and no one is billing. In Jinx, the real medicine lies outside the chart—in the dirt on borrowed floral pants, in sweat earned under open skies. Nature becomes the unspoken vow that systems forgot.

The coat may still be white. The walls may be green. But healing comes not from the symbols, but from the soil.

That’s the truth behind the Oath of Hippocrates.

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: Perfect 👼🏼 Defect 😈 🥺🥀❤️‍🩹

The recent developments in Jinx Chapters 65 and 66 provide a striking insight into the ongoing inner turmoil between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan. Many readers have long labeled Joo Jaekyung as a ‘red flag,’ and as such as a demon. Therefore when he used the idiom ‘defect,’ (chapter 66) they saw it as further confirmation of their perception—reinforcing the idea that he is terribly flawed. However, a deeper analysis suggests that this term reflects not just his character but also his evolving mindset and struggle with emotional vulnerability. This essay will explore the paradox at the heart of their dynamic—how both men refuse to acknowledge the emotional weight of their relationship, leading to a cycle of denial and misperception. It will examine how the concept of the jinx evolves, the continued influence of Park Namwook’s manipulations on Joo Jaekyung, and the role that mutual ingratitude plays in their emotional stagnation.

The Evolution of the Jinx: From Powerlessness to Repair

Initially, Joo Jaekyung’s jinx was a ritual designed to maintain control and secure victory. (chapter 2) This belief system dictated that, no matter what, he had to have sex with a man before every match—reinforcing the illusion that he could manipulate fate through repetition. The identity of his partner was irrelevant; what mattered was the act itself, which he perceived as a necessity rather than a choice. This routine provided him with a sense of control, but it also underscored a fundamental reliance on external factors rather than his own abilities. In Chapter 65, however, a subtle shift occurs. While the champion has not dropped his belief yet: (chapter 65), the nature of his principle has changed: (chapter 65)The athlete is admitting his dependency on doc Dan. The jinx is now directly tied to Kim Dan, not just as a concept but as a tangible element of Joo Jaekyung’s career stability. The second switch is that sex is no longer a condition to ward off bad luck. In fact, the celebrity is recognizing the importance of his daily training and, as such, his hard work. (chapter 65) The inner thoughts of the sportsman reveal that the champion is feeling less powerless than before. His champion status is no longer reliant on superstition but on tangible efforts—his “old routine” and, crucially, Kim Dan’s expertise as a physical therapist. This marks a significant transformation in his perception of Kim Dan, whom he now values for his professional skills rather than as a mere tool for maintaining a ritual. Thus, Joo Jaekyung should be less inclined to request Doc Dan’s sexual services. Then, in episode 66, a new change became visible. (chapter 66) The term defect emerges in his inner monologue, marking a transition from viewing the jinx as a form of dependency to seeing Kim Dan as someone in need of repair. This linguistic change is crucial—jinx implies something external, uncontrollable, and tied to fate, whereas defect introduces the notion of something that can be fixed or even improved.

Joo Jaekyung’s use of the term ‘defect’ stems from his deeply ingrained perception of both himself and others as products rather than individuals with intrinsic worth. Instead of saying that Kim Dan is ‘sick’ or struggling, he labels him as ‘defective,’ mirroring his own self-perception. The champion has long seen himself as nothing more than an athlete, a machine built for fighting—functional when at peak performance, broken when failing. This perception is reinforced by his manager, Park Namwook, who treats him as nothing more than an ATM (chapter 11), a tool to generate money and maintain the gym’s reputation. Hence he blames him, when members leave the gym. (chapter 46) The manager used the incident with Seonho to justify the desertion of the other athletes. However, it is clear that some left the gym because they didn’t become successful like Joo Jaekyung. However, their lack of success is explained by their lack of talent (chapter 46) exposing the lack of ambition and commitment from the two hyungs. It is clear that Joo Jaekyung’s wealth and fame was used to attract the sportsmen creating a myth that they could experience the same success. Nevertheless, as time passed on, the fighters were confronted with reality. It was, as if the athlete’s achievement had become a curse for Team Black. Nonetheless, neither the manager nor the coach can admit it, the champion’s bad temper is utilized to cover the mismanagement within the gym. Striking is that by portraying the protagonist as a person with a bad temper and personality , (chapter 9) the manager and his colleague described their boss as defective. The contrast between Joo Jaekyung’s perception of ‘defect’ and the coach’s view of him as a ‘maniac’ is particularly telling. When the protagonist refers to Kim Dan as having a defect, there is an implicit acknowledgment that something can be repaired or improved. In contrast, Park Namwook’s statement about ‘handling that maniac’ suggests that the star is beyond fixing—someone who must be tolerated and controlled rather than understood or helped. This fundamental difference in perspective reveals how deeply the manager has shaped the champion’s self-perception, reinforcing the idea that he is nothing more than a force to be managed rather than a person who can change or grow.

Ironically, (chapter 11) Joo Jaekyung once accused Kim Dan of seeing him as an ATM back in Chapter 11, but in reality, it is his manager who exploits him as a financial asset rather than recognizing his humanity. Hence he wants him to return to the ring as soon as possible. (chapter 54)

Under this new light, Jinx-philes can grasp why the “demon” (chapter 66) refers to Kim Dan’s condition as a ‘defect’ rather than acknowledging that the doctor is unwell. In doing so, he mirrors how he has been conditioned to see himself—not as a person who can be sick or in need of help, but as something that must either function or be discarded. The paradox is that without him, the gym can no longer attract members, hence Team Black would be forced to close its doors. That’s the reason why the manager is inciting the athlete to return to the gym. (chapter 66) His presence is necessary to maintain the “myth” alive.

But let’s return our attention to the fighter. (chapter 66) Notice that the champion doesn’t say that Kim Dan is sick or suffering from sleeping problems. His words expose that Joo Jaekyung still views life through the lens of having rather than being, seeing both himself and others as assets to be maintained rather than individuals with intrinsic worth. Furthermore, this label is deeply connected to Kim Dan’s own sleeping problems, which mirror Joo Jaekyung’s insomnia.

By recognizing a flaw in Kim Dan, he unconsciously acknowledges his own suffering without explicitly confronting it. Therefore he is accompanying the protagonist to the sleep specialist. (chapter 66) In calling Kim Dan ‘defect,’ Joo Jaekyung is unknowingly projecting his own self-perception onto him. The term suggests something broken but also something that can be repaired, reflecting an unconscious shift in his perspective. Instead of simply using Kim Dan as part of a superstition, he is beginning to see his vulnerability, perhaps even recognizing a parallel to his own struggles. His choice of words also reveals his deeply ingrained belief in self-reliance. (chapter 66) Kim Dan’s nighttime distress contradicts this principle, as it suggests an inability to be alone. This mirrors Joo Jaekyung’s own realization in the garden (chapter 65), where he admitted to himself that he was no longer entirely self-reliant. By calling Kim Dan ‘defect,’ he not only acknowledges the therapist’s struggles but also his own growing dependency on him—though he remains unwilling to fully confront it.

This shift is significant because it alludes that Joo Jaekyung is beginning to see himself as capable of affecting change. For someone conditioned to endure suffering without seeking help, viewing another person as defective paradoxically offers him a sense of power and responsibility. (chapter 66) Hence it is no coincidence that he chose to bring himself the “hamster” to the hospital. (chapter 66) Nevertheless, the idiom (“he’s got a defect”) reveal that Joo Jaekyung is still under the manager’s influence. This means that this shift is not immediate or conscious; it is restrained by his continued loyalty to Park Namwook and his ingrained avoidance of emotional vulnerability.

The Manager’s Manipulations: Control Through Information

Striking is that in season 2, the champion is almost never seen with the other members from Team Black. (chapter 60) This scene represents the exception. For the most part of the time, the star only visited the gym because Park Namwook had contacted him. (chapter 54) (chapter 66) Striking is that by each meeting, the champion was alone with the manager. The latter was no longer followed by coach Yosep. It was, as if Park Namwook wanted to have some privacy with the celebrity. However, through this contrast, Jinx-lovers can detect a certain MO from the manager: he is isolating the champion, limiting his interactions with other members. This explicates why he remains a pivotal force in Joo Jaekyung’s stagnation.

A clear example of Park Namwook’s manipulative tendencies emerges in his interactions with Joo Jaekyung in Chapter 66. He subtly pressures the champion to return to the gym by implying that his current behavior—isolating himself—is not normal. (chapter 66) Yet, just moments later, he tells him that he can take more time to rest, as if feigning concern. This contradiction is striking because it exposes his underlying agenda: he wants Joo Jaekyung back in the gym but doesn’t want to appear forceful. Instead, he makes it seem like Joo Jaekyung is the one making the decision, fostering guilt by implying that his long absence is unnatural.

What makes this irony even more apparent is that Park Namwook has, in the past, dismissed Joo Jaekyung as a ‘spoiled child with a bad temper.’ (chapter 52) His sudden shift—acting as though the champion is no longer himself—reveals his inconsistency. When Joo Jaekyung was compliant, he was simply a reckless athlete with an attitude. Now that he is exhibiting autonomy, Park Namwook implies that something is wrong with him. It was, as though he was missing the old version of the champion. 😂 But this is what he complained about him in the past: he was a workaholic! (chapter 27) This double standard highlights Park Namwook’s true role: he is not a supportive figure but a handler, ensuring that Joo Jaekyung remains under control and fulfilling his duties as a fighter. His words are not meant to provide genuine support but to keep Joo Jaekyung tethered to a system where his worth is defined solely by his success in the ring.

His subtle manipulations ensure that Joo Jaekyung remains dependent on his management, discouraging emotional entanglements that might threaten his control. This is evident in the way he frames Joo Jaekyung’s return to training in Chapter 66, focusing on ensuring compliance rather than addressing the champion’s personal struggles. (chapter 66) Park Namwook ensures that Joo Jaekyung remains confined within the narrow definition of an athlete whose sole purpose is to generate victories and revenue. By subtly invalidating the fighter’s autonomy, he fosters a cycle of dependency, discouraging any form of emotional connection or self-reflection that might lead Joo Jaekyung to question his control. The manager’s contradictions—both urging him to take his time yet implying his behavior is unnatural—serve to reinforce this conditioning, ensuring that the champion remains locked in a pattern of obligation rather than self-discovery. In doing so, Park Namwook not only suppresses Joo Jaekyung’s potential for growth but also reinforces the deeply ingrained perception that his worth is conditional and transactional.

His tactics extend beyond mere coaching—he controls information, as seen in his omission of lost sponsorships (chapter 54) or (un)favorable interviews about the athlete. (chapter 54) (Chapter 57) As a manager, Park Namwook’s role involves overseeing Joo Jaekyung’s career, securing contracts, and ensuring his reputation remains intact. Yet, as seen in Chapter 66, his actual concerns seem remarkably narrow in scope. (chapter 66) When speaking to Joo Jaekyung, Park Namwook focuses exclusively on the gym—as if the athlete were merely a member rather than the actual owner. This detail is particularly ironic, as it reveals that the man with the glasses sees himself as the one in charge, entitled to dictate Joo Jaekyung’s movements and decisions. His fixation on the gym exposes why he shows no interest in other crucial aspects of the champion’s career, such as contracts, endorsements, or emotional and physical recovery. His management is driven not by genuine concern for the fighter’s well-being, but by a desire to uphold the gym’s operation and reinforce his perceived authority within it. To conclude, his true motivation lies in preserving the gym’s function and image, treating Joo Jaekyung as a means to that end rather than supporting him as a multidimensional individual with emotional and professional needs. That’s the reason why he shows no curiosity about his star’s private life: “I don’t know what you’ve been up to lately”. (chapter 66)

Because his failure to reveal lost sponsorships and unfavorable interviews in Season 2 suggests a pattern of withholding critical information, I couldn’t help myself thinking to see as another clue that his omission extends to the fateful meeting between Choi Gilseok and Kim Dan, which took place in front of “HIS” gym! (chapter 48) Back then, there was a witness, Kwak Junbeom and the latter could have reported to the “hyung”. These incidents indicate a consistent effort to control what the champion knows, raising the critical question: why?? His silence on this matter suggests not only a strategic decision to keep the star uninformed, but also an attempt to avoid responsibility. The supervisor often hesitates to make decisive choices (chapter 50), preferring instead to remain passive so that any negative outcomes can be blamed on the champion. At the same time, this passivity helps him maintain control—as if Joo Jaekyung, without his guidance, would be left ‘alone’ and directionless. In this way, the man with the glasses sustains a dynamic in which the champion feels dependent on his presence, even as he is subtly undermined. By neglecting to inform him of these events, Park Namwook ensures that the champion remains unaware of external factors that could influence his choices. This pattern reinforces the possibility that Park Namwook was aware of the meeting with Choi Gilseok and deliberately ignored it, likely expecting that Joo Jaekyung would take care of it, while absolving himself of responsibility.

Park Namwook’s motivations become clearer when viewed through this lens. In his eyes, Joo Jaekyung is now physically perfect (chapter 66) —his shoulder has healed, and he should be able to return to the ring. However, at the same time, he regards him as defective (chapter 66) because he no longer displays the same single-minded devotion to fighting. Joo Jaekyung’s emotional distance from the gym and his growing attachment to Kim Dan mark a transformation that the manager interprets as a threat. Instead of embracing this evolution, the “supervisor” views it as a flaw—proof that the champion is no longer operating under the selfish, work-driven mindset he once encouraged. This contradiction reflects the “hyung”’s twisted priorities: he sees the gym as the center of value and promotes an ideology of workaholism, selfishness, and emotional suppression. Since he has no one by his side, he should come to the gym, as if he would nurture relationships there. To him, the ideal fighter is one who exists solely for the ring, forgoing connection or personal growth. In that sense, the protagonist becomes the Perfect Defect—flawless in form but, in Park Namwook’s eyes, failing in function by daring to become more human. The manager’s repeated emphasis on the gym reveals his narrow view of the champion’s purpose, treating him as a member rather than the rightful owner. This misperception reflects Park Namwook’s deeper worldview: he represents workaholism, selfishness, and greed, believing that the only acceptable behavior is unwavering devotion to the gym and career success.

The Slow Burn: Why The Characters’ Mindset Is Not Changing Abruptly

Despite these moments of introspection (chapter 65), the “wolf” does not immediately alter his behavior. (chapter 66) This hesitation stems from deeply ingrained beliefs about relationships and fidelity. His loyalty to Park Namwook prevents him from fully confronting the possibility that his manager may not have his best interests at heart. Moreover, his own emotional repression makes it difficult for him to recognize his evolving dependency on Kim Dan as something beyond physical necessity.

But there exists another reason for his slow transformation, the influence of the location. Notice that he agreed to his hyung’s statement, when he was in the penthouse. The latter stands for civilization and as such “corruption”. Thus I came to the following interpretation. The penthouse represents the manager’s power over the champion, which explicates why Oh Daehyun and the other fighters spoke about that place in admiration in front of their coach. (chapter 22) They had heard about his place, for the manager must have talked about it. The protagonist is not someone who will talk about his private life to others. The manager must have dangled promises in front of them, making them believe that if they’re lucky enough, they too could live like the champion. However, their reactions reveal something crucial—they are not motivated by greed but by genuine admiration. They simply want to experience the luxury once in a while, reinforcing that their bond with Joo Jaekyung is rooted in camaraderie rather than material envy. This further highlights the contrast between Park Namwook’s manipulation and the sincere regard his teammates have for him. This scene is important, because it exposes the manager’s prejudices and lack of discernment. (chapter 46) Not everyone is the same and more importantly like him! It is clear that the man is projecting his own principles onto others and in particular onto the champion.

His reluctance is further reinforced by the lack of validation from Kim Dan. (chapter 66) Neither of them fully understands how to acknowledge care or support. Just as Joo Jaekyung struggles to recognize his actions as stemming from concern (chapter 66) rather than routine, Kim Dan fails to see Joo Jaekyung’s interventions as genuine help. This mutual misunderstanding deepens the emotional rift between them, ensuring that both remain trapped in their own perceptions of obligation rather than connection. In Chapter 66, he openly expresses frustration, stating, (chapter 66). This moment highlights a rare glimpse of honesty: he is not acting purely out of self-interest, but he frames it as an obligation rather than a choice. From my point of view, such a statement could only reach the physical therapist’s mind, for in the latter’s eyes, the champion has always been a “demon”: self-centered and inconsiderate. Observe the absence of reply from the “hamster”. He couldn’t contradict the star, as the latter was using this negative image: bad tempered and selfish.

Mingwa has long associated doc Dan with an angel. . The reason is simple. He was portrayed as someone who would do favors to people constantly: his grandmother (chapter 53), the manager (chapter 9), the fighters (chapter 7) and even Choi Heesung. Hence the latter called him like that: (chapter 30) Kim Dan’s perception of himself as an “angel” has long shaped the way he interprets his relationship with Joo Jaekyung. Reinforced by his upbringing and Park Namwook’s subtle manipulation (chapter 36), he has unconsciously placed himself in a position of moral superiority. He is the patient, understanding figure, while Joo Jaekyung, in contrast, is violent (chapter 1), selfish, and emotionally stunted. However, this self-perception is deeply flawed. By believing himself to be inherently better (chapter 64) than the champion, Kim Dan avoids confronting his own emotional repression, his weaknesses, and his own form of “defectiveness.” He fails to see that he is just as human—just as fragile—as the man he silently judges. (chapter 66) The expression “Really…?” is not just about disbelief but also about a moment of confrontation with reality. Up until this point, Kim Dan has been dismissing his own suffering, suppressing his struggles, and functioning on autopilot. However, hearing a professional confirm that he is indeed sick forces him to acknowledge what he has been denying.

The word “really” acts as a bridge between doubt and acceptance, signaling that reality is crashing down on him. This corresponds to the downfall of an angel. He can no longer minimize or rationalize his exhaustion as something temporary—it’s a legitimate condition, one that requires attention. This realization is significant because it directly challenges his self-perception. He has always seen himself as someone who must endure, someone who cannot afford to be weak. But now, he is faced with undeniable evidence that he is not just tired—he is unwell.

This moment marks a turning point, where the truth of his condition is no longer something he can push aside. So far, he has always dismissed the champion’s remarks as “lies”: (chapter 60) or exaggerations. (chapter 66) It also forces him to consider that others—especially Joo Jaekyung—were right to be concerned, which in turn may lead to a shift in his perception of the champion’s actions.

Furthermore, Kim Dan grew up in an environment where repressing his desires was not just expected but necessary for survival. He was conditioned to associate sex (chapter 20) with shame, something impure that should be avoided or hidden. This internalized belief made it difficult for him to separate his own experiences from moral judgment. When he encountered the champion —who treated sex as nothing more than a professional ritual (chapter 2)—this stark contrast reinforced his existing worldview. He saw the celebrity as reckless, immoral, and impulsive, someone who lacked restraint and viewed intimacy as just another means to an end. In contrast, Kim Dan unconsciously positioned himself as purer—someone who was above such base instincts.

However, this sense of superiority is deeply paradoxical. While he judged Joo Jaekyung for his behavior, he was also the one who allowed himself to be drawn into the transactional dynamic without resisting it. Instead of questioning or confronting the situation, he passively accepted it, reinforcing his own role within the dynamic. His moral disdain for Joo Jaekyung did not stop him from complying with the athlete’s demands. This contradiction highlights Kim Dan’s deeper struggle: he is caught between his ingrained judgment and his own passivity. He wants to believe he is different from Joo Jaekyung, yet his actions—or lack thereof—suggest otherwise. This explicates why he is projecting his own behavior onto the athlete’s: (chapter 66) He assumed once again that the star had taken advantage of his “drunkenness”, something Kim Dan had done himself in the past.

This internal conflict plays a crucial role in why he struggles to acknowledge the changes in Joo Jaekyung’s behavior. If he were to admit that the champion is not just a brute, that he is capable of genuine concern, it would force him to reconsider his own beliefs—not just about Joo Jaekyung, but about himself. To do so, however, means dismantling the rigid perception of morality and purity he has clung to for so long. Until Kim Dan comes to terms with his own contradictions, he will continue to misunderstand Joo Jaekyung’s intentions, keeping them both trapped in a cycle of mutual misperception.

Mingwa has frequently associated Kim Dan with angelic imagery, but this serves as a double-edged sword. While it elevates him in the eyes of others, it also creates a psychological barrier that prevents him from recognizing his own suffering. His insomnia, his malnutrition, his growing depression—these are all things he ignores or downplays (chapter 66), even as they take a visible toll on his body. If he were to acknowledge his own vulnerabilities, he would have to admit that he is not above needing help, something he has spent his entire life avoiding. Instead, he clings to the idea that he must endure in silence, reinforcing the very behaviors that keep him trapped in a cycle of self-neglect.

This ties directly into the slow transformation of both characters. The angel needs to be reminded of his own true nature: he is human, and like any human, he can get sick, he can struggle, and he can fail. On the other hand, the champion, who has long internalized to see people through the lens of function and utility, has to recognize that being “defective” can represent a source of strength. So far, for him defect meant being worthless. Their reluctance to break away from these ingrained perceptions of themselves is precisely what keeps them at odds. Kim Dan resents Joo Jaekyung for his supposed lack of morality, yet he does not realize that his own self-righteousness blinds him to the reality of their relationship. Likewise, Joo Jaekyung, having always been valued for his physicality rather than his emotions, fails to grasp that true strength lies in acknowledging weakness—not erasing it.

This is why their transformations are not immediate. Their beliefs have been deeply ingrained through years of conditioning, and it takes more than a few interactions to dismantle them. Imagine this: a demon speaking to an angel, it perfectly encapsulates why they struggle to find common ground. Their fundamental worldviews have been shaped by entirely different environments—Kim Dan, who has been conditioned to suppress his desires and associate sex with shame, and Joo Jaekyung, who treats it as a necessity detached from emotion. This contrast creates a deep chasm between them, where one views the other as morally inferior, while the other sees emotional attachment as unnecessary or even a weakness.

Yet, the only place they can truly meet is Earth—neutral ground where neither absolute morality (Heaven) nor pure instinct (Hell) dictates their actions. And that would be the little town on the coast. (chapter 65) Symbolically, this reflects their respective journeys. The demon (Joo Jaekyung) is slowly leaving the underworld of detachment and blind routine, stepping toward vulnerability. Meanwhile, the angel (Kim Dan) is descending from his idealized, self-righteous perception of himself, recognizing his own flaws, desires, and limitations. Both must step away from their extremes—Kim Dan from his unconscious moral superiority and passive victimhood, and Joo Jaekyung from his emotional repression and transactional mindset.

Until they meet in the middle—on Earth, where human connection, vulnerability, and compromise exist—they will continue to misunderstand each other. Their so-called defects are what ultimately bind them together, but until they acknowledge them, they will remain locked in their cycle of denial and emotional stagnation. Kim Dan must first recognize that his suffering is valid, that he is not above pain, and that needing help does not make him weak. Likewise, Joo Jaekyung must learn that genuine care is not a transaction, nor is vulnerability a flaw. Until both confront these truths, they will continue to misunderstand each other, pushing one another away even as they inch closer to genuine connection.

The Missing Gratitude: A Two-Sided Problem

The absence of gratitude on both sides serves as the linchpin of their emotional stalemate. Joo Jaekyung, for all his power and success, has never been properly acknowledged outside of his career achievements (chapter 40) , while Kim Dan, conditioned by years of emotional neglect, sees gratitude as a transactional exchange rather than an expression of genuine appreciation. (chapter This creates a vicious cycle—Joo Jaekyung continues to view Kim Dan as a ‘defect’ (chapter 66) because Kim Dan does not recognize his efforts, while Kim Dan cannot see past his own survival instincts to notice that Joo Jaekyung’s actions are slowly shifting from obligation to care. Kim Dan, conditioned by years of neglect and survival-driven thinking, does not see Joo Jaekyung’s actions as genuine care. (chapter 66) He assumes everything comes with a price, failing to recognize moments where Joo Jaekyung acts beyond obligation.

Conversely, Joo Jaekyung, still in denial about his emotional investment, refuses to acknowledge any deeper attachment to Kim Dan. (chapter 66) And now, you comprehend why the champion employed the idiom “defect”. As long as Kim Dan does not express gratitude, Joo Jaekyung can continue convincing himself that his actions are dictated by habit or self-interest rather than care. Their inability to recognize and articulate their changing dynamic keeps them locked in a cycle of emotional detachment. Nevertheless, it becomes clear that this vicious cycle will stop, as now these two men are little by little influenced by the nice landlord: (chapter 66) And the latter can see beyond the appearances.

Conclusion: The Perfect Defect

In the end, the irony is that both characters see the other as defective in some way—Kim Dan as someone who is broken and in need of fixing, and Joo Jaekyung as someone incapable of expressing genuine care. Yet, it is precisely their emotional shortcomings that make them a perfect mirror for each other. The evolution of the jinx into defect signals an impending shift, but until gratitude is exchanged—until one of them acknowledges the other’s role in their life—the cycle will persist. As long as Kim Dan remains emotionally detached, Joo Jaekyung will continue denying his own feelings, making them each other’s Perfect Defect.

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: Fickle Jinx 🐈‍⬛, Faded Past

Introduction: The Evolution of the Jinx

Joo Jaekyung’s perception of his ‘jinx’ has undergone a significant transformation since the beginning of Jinx. Initially, he believed that his routine (chapter 2) —having sex the night before a match—was a necessary ritual to maintain his champion title. However, by Episode 62, his view of the jinx had subtly shifted. (chapter 62) He now includes his entire routine with Kim Dan—not just sex, but also his physical therapy and treatment—as part of this so-called jinx. This shift is crucial because it implies an unconscious recognition of Kim Dan’s significance in his life. What once was purely about his career and success has now expanded to include a specific person and their role in his well-being.

Kim Dan, however, misinterprets Jaekyung’s words. First, the athlete employed the expression “usual pre-match routine” which is quite ambiguous. What was he referring to “usual pre-match routine”? The sex or the treatment he was receiving from Kim Dan: the tasty breakfasts, his company on his way to the gym (chapter 46), the stretching and massage at the gym? The problem is that the champion never complimented the “hamster” for his good work directly. So it was, as if his dedication was nonexistent. Without the champion’s genuine gratitude and appreciation expressed so openly, the physical therapist couldn’t perceive the true message behind the champion’s. Joo Jaekyung’s statement was actually an acknowledgment—a sign that the fighter values their routine, not just for performance but as an integral part of his life. So when the star mentioned his jinx (chapter 62), the doctor’s memory got triggered. Because of his past experiences, he has long associated the jinx exclusively with sex. This contrast in understanding highlights both Jaekyung’s lack of self-awareness and Kim Dan’s tendency to filter reality through his own expectations and trauma. However, the deeper significance lies in Jaekyung’s evolving perception of dependency. His jinx is no longer just a superstition tied to his performance in bed. It now subtly acknowledges that his success has been intertwined with Kim Dan’s intervention. (chapter 62). At the same time, his skills in the ring become more relevant. This explicates why the champion talked about it on the treatment table. The location is not anodyne. This implies that the champion’s torment is moving away from the bed and bedroom. This is not the first time the celebrity has recognized Kim Dan’s good work (chapter 61) By entrusting his care to Kim Dan, he was insinuating that the main lead was trustworthy and competent, yet his inability to verbally express appreciation keeps the doctor unaware of his true feelings. This struggle resurfaced in front of the hospice, where Jaekyung could only bring himself to admit that Kim Dan was not responsible for the incident with the switched spray. (chapter 62) His reluctance to openly acknowledge his gratitude suggests a deeper internal conflict—one that hints at a growing but unspoken emotional reliance on Kim Dan. 

Another cause for this inner struggle stems from his difficulty to separate his professional and personal life. While he continues to frame his reliance on Kim Dan as part of his career routine (chapter 62), his subconscious attachment tells a different story. The jinx, once strictly confined to his fights, has now extended beyond the ring, blurring the lines between necessity and emotional dependency. His hesitation to verbalize his appreciation reveals a man grappling with an unfamiliar vulnerability—one that he may not yet be ready to confront. 

The champion’s past: fixed foundation or distorted memory?

As you know, articles from Dr. Jennifer Delgado often assist me to grasp better the couple’s personality and issues. Funny is that her articles often coincide with the progression of Jinx. In her recent article, You Are Not Your Experiences, the author explains how people often mistakenly identify themselves with their past experiences, believing that their traumas, failures, or successes define who they are. She argues that while past experiences shape our perspectives, they do not have to dictate our future choices.

This means that people need to break free from their past. However, in order to achieve this goal, they have to recognize past experiences as a reference rather than a destiny—something to learn from, but not something that confines personal growth.

Emotional Traps: Fear and Avoidance

One of the most common ways people become trapped by their past is through fear-driven decision-making. Those who have faced failures, disappointments, or trauma may avoid opportunities for change out of fear of repeating past mistakes. This avoidance does not create true freedom but rather reinforces a cycle of limitation.

Conversely, others may become so deeply attached to their past choices that they justify and cling to them, believing that changing direction would undermine their previous efforts. This mindset prevents self-reflection and the possibility of meaningful transformation.

The Power of Choice

True autonomy comes from self-awareness and intentional decision-making. Instead of reacting based on past fears or past justifications, individuals can reclaim control over their future by making choices that align with their present values and aspirations. The ability to consciously choose a path forward, rather than following patterns dictated by past experiences, is what ultimately leads to growth, fulfillment, and personal freedom. I am quite certain that my avid readers could recognize the main characters in these descriptions. It becomes obvious that Joo Jaekyung belongs to the second category. His perspective on time is one of continuity and justification. He sees the past as an unchangeable foundation (chapter 62) that naturally determines the future, a mindset that enables him to move forward without regret. Hence he is sure that he will regain his title and can separate ways with Kim Dan. (chapter 62) It was, as if he was warding off bad luck by repeating the last match. For him, past choices are justified by their results—he has built a successful career through sheer discipline and sees no reason to question his trajectory. His mentality reflects the belief that one’s past is a stable structure upon which the present and future rest. This perception explains his resistance to self-reflection and emotional vulnerability; admitting a mistake would mean disrupting the stability he relies upon.

His refusal to listen to emotional advice, especially concerning Kim Dan’s well-being, can be traced back to his survival-driven upbringing (chapter 54), where emotions were likely dismissed as obstacles. Instead, he follows only what aligns with his success: the advice of figures like Park Namwook and Yosep, who reinforce his pre-existing beliefs about strength, control, and endurance. Hence he was pushed to fight despite his ankle injury. (chapter 50)

However, as recent events unfold, his foundation is beginning to show cracks—particularly with Kim Dan’s absence, forcing him into a state of emotional confrontation that he has never encountered before. His departure made him feel not only lonely, but also cold and stressed. And because his past determines his future, it signifies that Joo Jaekyung is caught in a cycle where his past successes and struggles dictate his present mindset. (chapter 61) This rigid perception prevents him from questioning his past choices or embracing change, reinforcing the illusion that repeating past patterns will restore stability. However, as his reliance on Kim Dan grows, the boundaries between his personal and professional life blur, challenging his belief that he can control his future by clinging to his past.  (chapter 61)

But what happens when the past is not remembered correctly? When Jaekyung convinces himself that everything was fine before his tie with Baek Junmin (chapter 62), he is unknowingly rewriting his own history. This distortion is further reinforced by external voices —MFC (chapter 57) and Park Namwook (chapter 54), who claim that Jaekyung ‘lost’ the fight, when in reality, it was a tie. The very way people around him are framing the event warps his perception, creating a false narrative where his struggles seem to stem solely from this supposed ‘loss.’ His belief in a stable past provides him with a sense of security, but that illusion is fragile. In addition, if his struggles predated his championship loss (chapter 29), then reclaiming his title cannot be the solution he believes it to be. Finally, what happens when he is forced to confront the reality that some of his past choices were mistakes – ones that he can no longer attribute to the jinx or external circumstances, (chapter 13) because they affected the doctor’s life? (chapter 41) In one case, he refused to listen to his friend’s advice, whereas he trusted the words from MFC, MFC doctors and his hyung. When the foundation he has relied upon begins to crack, Jaekyung’s entire mindset is shaken, forcing him to question whether his past truly holds the answers he seeks. We could say, the athlete needs to be betrayed by his own past in order to throw his old belief. The latter is strongly intertwined with the organization MFC and authorities in general. Questioning his past equals challenging the company MFC and his past “guardians”: the terrifying ghost and even his two hyungs.

As my avid Jinx-philes can sense, the champion is actually going through a similar path than his lover. Joo Jaekyung has a distorted perception of his past. In Episode 61 (chapter 61), he expresses the belief that reclaiming his championship title will rid him of his headaches, nightmares, and sleepless nights. However, the reality is different—he was already suffering from insomnia long before he lost his title. (chapter 29) The origins of his struggles existed before his recent failures, suggesting that his belief in a simple solution—reclaiming his title—is an illusion. This disconnect reveals how deeply his professional and personal life are entangled; his need for control in the ring has masked his deeper emotional vulnerabilities. He isn’t merely striving for victory—he is chasing the illusion of stability, believing that his success is the sole factor that determines his well-being. (chapter 54) But as his nightmares and frustration intensified, it becomes clear that his problem is not the loss of his title, but the erosion of the identity he has built upon it. This means that the longer he stays away from the gym, the more the fighter is learning about himself. He is more than just a MMA champion. To conclude, he is on his way to redefine himself, to discover his humanity.

  • The very fact that he associates (chapter 61) the headache and nightmares only with his loss suggests that he has rewritten his own history, convincing himself that he was completely fine before his tie with The Shotgun.
  • This distortion reflects his habit of suppressing personal struggles—a conditioned mindset that prioritizes his image and career over his mental and emotional well-being.
  • His unconscious rewriting of events serves a psychological function: blaming the championship loss allows him to avoid deeper introspection. Under this new light, you comprehend why he is not investigating the matter with the switched spray and the rigged game.

This pattern extends to his changing interpretation of the jinx. Originally, his pre-match ritual was about control. It was a way to ensure consistency and maintain a sense of power over his performance. However, by integrating Kim Dan into this ritual, he unknowingly shifts its meaning—it is no longer solely about control, but also about dependence. But there is more to it. The moment you contrast this recollection and belief (chapter 61) with the champion’s rejection in the bedroom with this excuse (chapter 29), you will realize that alone in his penthouse, Joo Jaekyung was actually admitting the importance of sleep and rest. His earlier belief in relentless training as the key to success now clashes with his realization that exhaustion is affecting him. This shift signifies an unconscious admission that his well-being is not just tied to physical endurance but also to recovery and relaxation—something he previously dismissed. This realization subtly parallels his growing dependence on Kim Dan, reinforcing the theme of blurring lines between his professional and personal life. And what had occurred after this magical blue night in the penthouse? (chapter 30) The athlete woke up later than usual. In fact, he was rather late, for he was still wearing his pajamas, while the doctor had already taken his shower. But back then, observe how he opened the door! Like a clumsy beast, grump leopard! Why? In the past, I explained that he was seeking the champion’s closeness, but didn’t know how to approach his partner. I am now adding another aspect. He was actually annoyed, because he had not been following his daily routine!! Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the champion had such a “angry” facial expression, while deep down he was happy. The older version of this scene: (chapter 44) However, this means that in episode 30, he never acknowledged his dependency on the physical therapist for his rest loudly. On the other hand, it explains why the champion felt threatened, when the actor approached his “lavender-tinted pillow” or “sleeping pill”. (chapter 31) In fact, he used guilt to create a link between him and his roommate. That’s the reason why I am more than ever convinced that the champion will sleep better after this lavender-tinted night. (chapter 63) But contrary to the past, the athlete should come to recognize his lover’s great sleeping power officially. This made me laugh, imagining Kim Dan’s reaction, when the latter sees that his wish (chapter 62) won’t come true at all. 😉 He will stay longer and ask for Kim Dan’s presence during the night.

Kim Dan: The Past as a Lesson to Escape

Dr. Jennifer Delgado’s assertion that the past should be a reference, not a destiny directly applies to Kim Dan. Although the physical therapist believes he is actively shaping his future by rejecting his past, in reality, his decisions are still dictated by fear—fear of repeating past mistakes, fear of attachment, and ultimately, fear of abandonment. He belongs to the first case described above. He regrets to have developed feelings for the champion, therefore he wants to relive their first night together. (chapter 62)

Fear and Avoidance Dictate His Choices

Rather than truly choosing his future, Kim Dan structures his life around avoiding his past. (chapter 56) His childhood and early adult experiences, marked by financial hardship, emotional neglect, abandonment, betrayal and powerlessness, have conditioned him to associate attachment with suffering. Because of this, he withdraws from relationships (chapter 56) and opportunities that could offer him security, convincing himself that he is protecting his independence when, in truth, he is reacting to past trauma rather than making an intentional choice.

This aligns with Delgado’s concept of emotional traps, where individuals believe they are exercising free will when they are actually making fear-based decisions that keep them stuck. Kim Dan’s reluctance to let Jaekyung back into his life is not just about his personal preferences—it is an extension of his attempt to escape a future that resembles his painful past. (chapter 46) (chapter 46)

The Illusion of Control: Running Instead of Choosing

Delgado emphasizes that true freedom comes from conscious decision-making, not reactionary avoidance. Kim Dan, however, has yet to reach this level of autonomy. By pushing people away, he believes he is exercising control over his life—but in reality, his choices are being made for him by his unresolved fears. He resembles a lot to the athlete in season 1. He is not moving toward something new; he is merely fleeing from what once hurt him. This means that he is imitating his grandmother as well. And now you comprehend why both liked each other immediately. Both could recognize in each other. But living like his halmoni has terrible consequences, for unhealed wounds of the mind fester beneath the surface, seeping into the body like cracks spreading through glass—until even the strongest foundation begins to break. (chapter 19) She became terribly sick, while the other had to get surged and risked his career. There is no doubt that the halmoni is hiding her pain as well. Kim Dan’s declining physical and emotional state further reflects the consequences of living in avoidance. (chapter 61) He is endangering his life. Instead of taking action to improve his well-being, he isolates himself, refusing help even when it is necessary. His reluctance to accept care—be it medical, emotional, or relational—mirrors the very trap Delgado describes: mistaking survival for true agency.

The Turning Point: Breaking Free from the Past

For Kim Dan to truly reclaim his future, he must stop defining himself by what he is running from and start choosing based on what he genuinely wants. Someone needs to remind him of these feelings: (chapter 62) If he continues making decisions based on past fears, he will remain trapped in the same cycle, unable to experience true growth or emotional fulfillment.

Delgado’s article suggests that the key to breaking free lies in self-awareness—Kim Dan must first recognize that his past does not define him before he can truly take control of his life. That’s the reason why I perceive the doctor’s suggestion in a positive light: (chapter 62) Here, he is actually facing his past which he has strongly connected to regret and remorse. Don’t forget that after this night, he is expecting Joo Jaekyung’s departure. (chapter 62) That way, he can move on. But what the “hamster” fails to recognize is that the Jinx was brought up in a different location. (chapter 62) Unlike in the past, this conversation takes place in the living room indicating transition from transactional interactions to genuine connection. Unlike the bedroom (chapter 3), which has been the setting of power imbalances, physical dominance, and silence, the living room represents a shared space—a place where dialogue and openness can exist. But why is the bedroom linked to silence? It is because of the TV, the third invisible companion! (chapter 48) Hence during that night, none of the protagonists talked sincerely to each other. And now pay attention to the living room at the hostel: (chapter 62) The TV is not switched on!! That’s how it dawned on me why Mingwa made Joo Jaekyung live alone for a while. (chapter 54) He needed to get rid of this poor habit: watching TV or cellphone. He had to realize that the TV or cellphones were never real companions and never brought him peace of mind! This was the invisible “love” triangle. Back then, the athlete deceived himself by thinking that he was truly self-reliant, while in verity he was dependent on his cellphone and the TV.

In Episode 62, (chapter 62) the shift to the living room for their conversation about the jinx is significant because it suggests that Jaekyung and Kim Dan’s relationship is evolving beyond purely physical interactions. The living room is typically associated with comfort, social interaction, and daily life, meaning that their dynamic is subtly moving towards something less confined, more integrated into reality. Jaekyung and Kim Dan are neither strangers nor true partners, and the living room reflects this in-between state of their relationship.

For Jaekyung, this space signifies a growing familiarity and trust, as he now acknowledges Kim Dan’s presence in his routine beyond sex. For Kim Dan, however, it is still a space of unease—his perception of their relationship remains tied to his initial trauma, making it difficult for him to see the fighter’s shift in behavior.

Secondly, I would like Jinx-philes to compare Joo Jaekyung’s behavior on the treatment table between episode 62 and the previous scenes where patients received Kim Dan’s treatment:

ChapTER 1Chapter 27Chapter 34Chapter 37Chapter 43Chapter 61

Kim Dan doesn’t talk to his patients in general, unless he feels that it is necessary. In addition, all his comments were work-related. His silence is oozing indifference and neglect. This observation exposes his lack of professionalism. Thus no patient is chatting with him and thanking him for his good treatment. On the other hand, thanks to Joo Jaekyung, the “hamster” is also learning not to get too attached to his “patients” as well. A natural distance is still required. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Kim Dan doesn’t feel his job as physical therapist not rewarding and why he felt differently in the past. (chapter 62) Right now, he is not receiving any compliment from his patients, for he is acting like a robot. However with the gym, it was different, for he felt recognized by members from Team Black. They would give him some positive feedback. (chapter 37) And all this started because Kim Dan had taken the initiative. (chapter 7) But now, it is no longer fulfilling for him, because his relationship with them didn’t go beyond their work.

So by relocating the champion’s new confession to the living room (chapter 62), Mingwa is announcing a change in their relationship. The living room acts as a threshold—a place between past and future, where the lines between professional and personal, dominance and dependence, jinx and reality begin to blur. (chapter 03) At the same time, I am also sensing that the treatment table could become the place where Kim Dan starts initiating conversations with his patients so that he can become an active listener and advisor.

To conclude, this confession marks a turning point not only for the champion, but also for the doctor. Both affect each other. Though Kim Dan didn’t grasp that Joo Jaekyung was emphasizing his role in his overall routine, I am quite certain that unconsciously, the “hamster” learned a lesson: the importance of listening and conversing with his patient. Let’s not forget that too focused on his own guilt due to his past trauma, he came to hurt one of his patients. (chapter 59) Striking is that here the doctor didn’t apologize to the elderly man, but only to the family. (chapter 59)

While Joo Jaekyung now sees Kim Dan’s care as part of what sustains him, even if he does not consciously acknowledge it as emotional attachment, the champion is not realizing that life is about to teach him a lesson. Past can not be a source of strength, but of torment, pushing him to throw over the board his belief about the past and jinx. (chapter 62) While he focused too much on his “loss”, he overlooked the importance of the incident with the switched spray on the doctor’s soul. Only through his conversation, he recalled his initial reaction (chapter 62) – which is quite understandable in my eyes. The ones who failed the couple were the two other hyungs from my perspective. The past affected the doctor so much that he views himself and his feelings as “trash” now, yet it is clear that neither Park Namwook nor the coach are suffering from guilt or remorse. The star’s follow-up statement, (chapter 62) further reinforces that Kim Dan has become an integral part of his preparation. Although Jaekyung does not yet frame this as emotional reliance, his words betray an unconscious attachment—one that Kim Dan himself does not recognize. Moreover, by including him in his jinx, the champion is only one step closer to include him in his “success”. Should the doctor be the target of malicious comments, the star will consider it as a personal assault or as his responsibility.

The Ghosts That Surface in Absence

A striking aspect of Jaekyung’s evolution is the way his subconscious reacted to Kim Dan’s absence. (chapter 54) The moment Kim Dan left, nightmares came to the surface The ghosts of his past—his insomnia, his unresolved emotions, his hidden fears—made its entrance revealing that the champion had a false perception of his own past. It was, as if he had erased his time before becoming the champion. This suggests that Kim Dan’s presence was acting as a stabilizing force, even if Jaekyung was unaware of it. He had become his “home”, which Joo Jaekyung forgot due to his intoxication. (chapter 43) Someone needs to remind the athlete of his own “statement”. Simultaneously, since the doctor never got curious about the fighter’s past and family, his presence could only be seen as a bandage covering a rotten body. In order to heal completely, he needs to expose his traumatic past and vulnerabilities.

This aligns with his distorted memory (chapter 61)—he tried to convince himself that everything would return to normal once he regained his title. However, reality proves otherwise:

  • The insomnia that he attributed to his championship loss existed in the past. Thus if the sportsman doesn’t change his life style, his sleeping problems should still be present after the recovery of his title.
  • The emptiness in his life remains, unaffected by his standing in the MMA world.
  • His frustration and irritability increased, indicating that his struggles were never truly about the title (chapter 56), but about something deeper. Here he felt the need to see his beloved “companion” again.
  • His instinctive blaming of Kim Dan at first is a defense mechanism—an attempt to deny that his life had already changed far more than he was willing to admit.

To conclude, as long as the champion doesn’t expose his past relationship with Baek Junmin and his childhood to Kim Dan, the athlete can not find inner peace and become his true self.

A New Kind of Jinx: The Unconscious Shift in Priorities

At the beginning of Jinx, Jaekyung’s only goal was to maintain his championship title. His ‘jinx’ was a superstition, a tool to reinforce his absolute focus on his career. However, by Episode 62, the nature of this jinx has evolved. (chapter 62)

  • It is no longer just about winning—it now includes a person.
  • By extending the jinx to include Kim Dan’s role in his routine, Jaekyung unconsciously acknowledges that his well-being is tied to someone outside himself. He was dropping his past conviction: self-reliance. This explicates why during the same episode, he was seen helping others in the village.
  • This suggests a new, hidden priority—a source of stability that extends beyond his career.

Whether Joo Jaekung realizes it or not, Kim Dan is now part of his happiness, even if the fighter has yet to define it that way. And if you contrast this to his previous definition of well-being, you will notice that it was defined by the absence of physical and mental pain. (chapter 61) We could summarize his statement with “peace of mind” which is a synonym for “happiness”. This confirms my previous interpretation that in the past, his abuse towards his own body was his way to express his emotional and mental suffering. (chapter 27) At the same time, this confession displays that his past was far from being perfect, the evidence of a distorted memory. After working so hard for the community, he came to receive a treatment from Kim Dan: (chapter 62) This means that he is now treasuring his own body. No wonder why he smiled. (chapter 62) That’s why I come to the following conclusion: The athlete must have felt happy in the living room, for he felt comfortable and safe. (chapter 62) But why did he show his back? One might say that he desired to hide his “satisfaction” and his “reliance” on his fated partner. Or he didn’t feel the need to watch the doctor’s facial reaction, when he would confide his new intentions and the transformation of his jinx. He didn’t expect the physical therapist to mock him for his absurd belief contrary to episode 2: (chapter 2) He trusted the doctor. Yet, in my opinion, there exists a bigger reason behind this change. It is related to his manager: The doctor is treating the star (chapter 62) where Park Namwook used to punish him physically. He is receiving his “sweet” and “reward”. Thus I interpret the sportsman’s admission in the living room as the moment where the manager is losing his influence over the champion. On the other hand, it is clear that the athlete has not realized it yet. Through the massage, the doctor is recognizing that the champion worked hard in his life.

The Convergence: A Future Defined by Choice, Not Circumstance

The irony in their opposing perceptions of time is that they both remain equally bound by their pasts—Jaekyung by his refusal to question it, and Kim Dan by his refusal to acknowledge its lingering control. However, the unfolding of their relationship is gradually pushing both toward transformation. Jaekyung, for the first time, is being forced to fight for something that is not guaranteed by his status, money or power, and Kim Dan is being forced to recognize that fear-based decisions are not true freedom.

Park Namwook exhibits a mindset similar to Jaekyung, where the past dictates his present and future actions. Unlike Jaekyung, however, he is entirely reliant on the champion’s success, living vicariously through him. He positions himself as a figure of authority, even claiming to be the gym owner (chapter 22) when he is not, using his seniority and past influence to assert dominance. His attitude is related to his past decision: from his perspective, he saved the athlete from turning into a criminal. (chapter 26) His dependence on Jaekyung’s achievements makes him resistant to any shift in the fighter’s trajectory (chapter 40), as it threatens his own stability. Rather than acknowledging change, he reacts negatively to it and shifts blame onto Jaekyung, avoiding responsibility for his own shortcomings.

Park Namwook’s reaction to Kim Dan’s presence highlights his discomfort with anything that disrupts his established control. He loves delegating tasks to others. He initially praised Kim Dan’s skills (chapter 43), but when confronted with a serious incident, he failed to take responsibility or make a decisive choice (chapter 50), allowing others to step in instead. Later, rather than addressing his inaction, (chapter 52) he deflected blame onto Jaekyung, holding him accountable for his own passivity and incompetence. Instead of facing the consequences of past mistakes, the coach and manager prefers to erase them entirely, bringing in a new physical therapist (chapter 53), as if the past never happened. By doing so, he reinforces Jaekyung’s belief in his so-called ‘jinx,’ manipulating the fighter’s perception of events and contributing to a distorted memory of reality. Meanwhile, the manager must face the reality that change is inevitable and that Jaekyung’s evolution does not mean his own irrelevance. However, his position must change.

Thus I am still expecting that the doctor will fall very sick. All of these men can not act, as if the past was like the future. They are not immortal. Kim Dan’s worsening condition would force the couple to reconsider their perceptions of time—Jaekyung in terms of regret, and Kim Dan in terms of embracing a future not defined by resignation and fear. I would even add that so far, the doctor has never confessed to the champion that he feels his life jinxed as well. (chapter 59)

The Fickle Nature of Jinx and the Power to Reclaim the Future

And now, you are wondering why I chose to focus on chapter 62 again, where I examined chapter 63 only one time. My reasoning is the following. In season 1, after his first night with Kim Dan, Joo Jaekyung made a terrific experience. (chapter 5) He felt so empowered that he won very quickly. (chapter 5) But this good vibe was attributed to the sex with Kim Dan and unfortunately linked to his match. The reality was that he had slept better and longer. So by recreating the past, Kim Dan places the athlete in front of a choice. What matters in his life? His title or his peace of mind? He is correcting the champion’s distorted memory. Kim Dan is the reason why he can rest properly and not the title. Don’t forget that he was suggesting to go separate ways during the massage. But if he sleeps better before gaining his title, he won’t feel the urge to return quickly to the ring. In the living room, he was still acting as the celebrity, but in the bed chamber he is now gradually pushed to leave his title out of the bedroom. Now, in the bedroom he becomes a man and can almost make a mistake as a lover. (chapter 63)

This analysis Fickle Jinx, Faded Past, encapsulates not only the essence of this transformation, but also outlines the existence of a crossroad. A jinx is something unpredictable, unstable—like Jaekyung’s belief in controlling his own path without interference. But just as a jinx can turn against its owner, his sense of certainty is now in flux. At the same time, relying on a certain person signifies taking a leap of faith. He is taking a new road. Meanwhile, Kim Dan’s faded past represents his attempt to erase what has shaped him, but fading does not mean disappearing—it lingers, influencing every step he takes. He can not erase the death of the poor puppy: (chapter 59) However, he needs to realize that his physical and mental recovery can only happen, if he truly wishes it. From my perspective, the doctor has to sense that he is not on his own, he has someone by his side who supports him emotionally and mentally.

Ultimately, both must reach a point where their decisions are no longer dictated by their pasts but by conscious choice. They need to recognize that freedom does not come from escaping the past or justifying it, but from choosing to move beyond it. However, this can only happen, when both meditate and become true to themselves. At the same time, both must become more curious about their partner and past life. Only then, they will be able to listen to each other and understand each other.

PS: I am still waiting for a confession outside, close to nature: in the woods and in front of the ocean.

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 Body’s 👂🏻 Worth 💵 ❤️‍🩹

The Commodification of the Body

Throughout Jinx, the concept of value is inextricably linked to the body. (chapter 27) This aspect becomes particularly evident in Kim Dan’s perception of himself and his interactions with Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 62) In episode 62, Kim Dan reproached the champion for only being interested in his body, reflecting his own inability to see his body as something valuable. Hence he never wondered about the true cause for such a huge bruise. (chapter 61) While with his words, he implied that his fated partner was a man obsessed with sex, his complaint reveals his mindset. First, he is the one longing for human warmth (chapter 59), hence he felt terrible sleeping alone. Secondly, he does not attribute worth to his own physical being beyond its utility for others. This explains why he has consistently neglected himself—avoiding food, disregarding his own injuries, and refusing to seek medical help when necessary.

This cyclical pattern suggests that Kim Dan’s actions are not just self-sacrificial but deeply ingrained behaviors passed down from his upbringing. Mingwa’s decision to portray Kim Dan’s declining health is crucial. (chapter 60) It underscores the reality that without his body, he cannot work. In this way, his physical deterioration forces him to confront an undeniable truth: (chapter 59) his body is not just a tool for others, but the very foundation of his survival. I would even so far to say that his sick and stressed body would question his identity as PT and caregiver.

As my avid readers can sense, the doctor is going through a similar path than the celebrity’s. Both Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung struggle with their own worth, but their journeys take vastly different paths. While the champion has learned to commodify his body, turning strength into currency and dominance into power, he has also been conditioned to disregard his own well-being. MFC viewed him as a commodity, using him as long as he remained valuable in the ring. Once his body is worn out (chapter 43), they will replace him with a new ‘doll.’ This exploitation shaped his relationship with his own body—one that prioritized its use over its care.

Unconsciously, Joo Jaekyung projected this treatment onto his partners (chapter 2), using sex as an extension of combat, mirroring the way MFC dehumanized him. His encounters were never about intimacy but about exerting control, reinforcing the notion that his body—and by extension, others’—only mattered as long as it served a purpose. Under this new light, Jinx-philes can grasp why the identity of the sex partner didn’t matter in the past too, for the champion avoids to fight against the same opponent in the ring.

Kim Dan, on the other hand, internalized a different form of self-neglect, seeing his body as an instrument of service rather than a source of personal value. As I analyzed Jinx, I noticed striking parallels between episodes 26 (chapter 26) and 62 (chapter 62) that highlighted a crucial shift in how each of them perceives their own worth—and, more importantly, each other’s. The mirroring of these two episodes suggests a deliberate narrative structure that showcases their evolving dynamic, with each character taking on a role the other once held. This realization led me to explore how their perspectives on strength, vulnerability, and agency transform over time.

Episode 26: The Submission and the Challenge

Episode 26 presents a crucial turning point in Kim Dan’s journey, one that lays the groundwork for the mirrored themes in episode 62. Several common denominators connect these two episodes: the imbalance of power, the nature of the challenge faced, the poor health condition of the doctor (chapter 26) (chapter 62), Kim Dan’s smile (genuine versus fake) and the characters’ shifting roles in confrontation and protection. The numerical structure of this episode—where Joo Jaekyung (2) represents dominance (chapter 26) and Kim Dan (6) embodies the nurturing, protective role—establishes a foundation for their evolving dynamics. (chapter 26)

But there’s a reason why I connected these two episodes together. Beyond the nature of their respective battles, another common denominator is Joo Jaekyung’s implicit care for Kim Dan, which is evident in both episodes despite his usual harsh demeanor. In episode 26, this care is symbolized by the red protective gear Joo Jaekyung gives Kim Dan before their sparring session. (chapter 26) This small yet significant act reveals that the champion does not see Kim Dan merely as a ‘sex doll’ but as someone worth protecting, even when challenging him. The protective gear is a contrast to Joo Jaekyung’s usual treatment of his one-night stands, reflecting an unconscious distinction between how he views Kim Dan versus his other partners. Finally, this sparring day exposes the doctor’s biased perception about the athlete in episode 62 once again. (chapter 62) Though he is portrayed as an arrogant man who had no respect for Kim Dan as doctor, he was only invited for sex services. (chapter 62) It was, as if he had no real talent. But let’s return our attention to the safety gears. The latter underline the high sense of responsibility of the champion, which readers could detect in episode 62. With the red accessories, Joo Jaekyung was showing his respect to the doctor as a man. In that scene, Kim Dan could choose his destiny. It is clear that “the hamster” has long forgotten this happy day (chapter 26) – he was smiling genuinely here- , and has reduced his time spent with Joo Jaekyung to sex:

One of the clearest parallels lies in the nature of the trial each character undergoes. In episode 26, Kim Dan was pushed to face his biggest fear (chapter 26) —a powerful, intimidating man who mirrors the threat of Heo Manwook (chapter 16) and his minions. At the beginning of the fight, the doctor was not fighting for himself but for someone else, reinforcing his deep-seated belief that his worth was tied to service and sacrifice. However, during the match of the century, there was a short change. Kim Dan was reminded of his own past and fears. Thus, I deduce that in episode 62, it is Joo Jaekyung who must face his own greatest challenge—not a physical opponent, but the emotional vulnerability that comes with loss and uncertainty. Though he helped others, his generosity remained unnoticed by Kim Dan. Hence the latter was still unwilling to return to Seoul. (chapter 62) On the surface, it looks like Joo Jaekyung lost. (chapter 62) More importantly, Kim Dan’s words (chapter 62 push Joo Jaekyung to confront his deepest fear—his own self-perception. Kim Dan has depicted him as a ruthless, inconsiderate man who views him purely as an object, reducing him to someone fixated on sex and control. This challenges Joo Jaekyung’s fragile self-worth, compelling him to question the unsettling possibility that this is how others and in particular Kim Dan see him. That’s why it was important for the champion to help the inhabitants during that day. The genuine admiration and constant requests from the community could only boost his ego. Thus he remained calm, when he heard the doctor’s blame. If Kim Dan’s accusations hold truth, then Joo Jaekyung has indeed been embodying the ‘spoiled brat’ Kim Dan claims he is (chapter 62) —exploiting people without genuine regard. This reckoning is not solely about emotional vulnerability but about identity itself. If Joo Jaekyung wants to validate his worth beyond his physical abilities, he must present his authentic self, proving his depth not just through his body, but through his emotional sincerity.

And what happened in the ring? The celebrity talked to Kim Dan, (chapter 26), was happy to demonstrate his talents and kept smiling all the time: (chapter 26) For the first time, fighting had become a source of joy for the athlete. He felt not only good, but confident about his skills, as a teacher and fighter. In both instances, this moment serves as a turning point, pushing each character to redefine their role and perception of self.

Though in episode 26, Kim Dan took on a maternal role toward Joo Jaekyung and Potato, prioritizing another’s well-being over his own, it is important to recall that the starting point for the challenge was “envy”. (chapter 25) Kim Dan was interested to know more about this sport for the protagonist’s sake, whereas Potato was jealous of Kim Dan’s closeness to the star. How did the celebrity react, when he heard the doctor’s desire to learn fighting moves? He was totally pleased, hence he lowered himself smiling (chapter 25) before returning to the ring: (chapter 25). Notice that he employed the word “happy” here. This shows that the athlete liked to be a teacher and mentor to a novice.

Later, Kim Dan knelt before Joo Jaekyung (chapter 26), reinforcing his belief that his worth lies in service, and he requests an opportunity for someone else. The physical challenge that followed, in which the champion invited him into the ring, was meant to teach Kim Dan to overcome fear, though the original idea was to learn jujitsu moves for the champion’s sake. As you can see, there was a switch in the intentions for the “lesson”. This moment also highlights Joo Jaekyung’s approach to the body—power, physicality, and dominance, which will later be subverted in episode 62 when emotional resilience becomes the true test of strength.

However, Joo Jaekyung forced Kim Dan to step into the ring, forcing him to confront this fear head-on. (chapter 26) Though the doctor was initially immobile and passive, the experience became a significant lesson: fear was something that could be faced and overcome. From that moment on, he became more proactive (chapter 26), though he lacked speed, strength and endurance. (chapter 26) This is a moment of physical initiation for Kim Dan, teaching him resilience. Nonetheless, he was still fighting for someone else, still locked in his pattern of self-neglect.

To conclude, though Kim Dan was taught an important lesson, he didn’t drop his belief that his body existed for others. His actions were still revolving around providing care, whether for his grandmother or, in this case, for Joo Jaekyung or Potato.

Episode 62: The Reversal of Roles

Episode 62 inverts the roles established in episode 26. Here, Kim Dan (2) and Joo Jaekyung (6) switch positions, with the champion now assuming a protective and caring role (chapter 62), although he has yet to fully recognize the reason behind his behavior. He is now imitating the doctor, as if his body is there to provide assistance and care for others. The people of the small town rely on Joo Jaekyung, placing him in an unfamiliar caretaker position. (chapter 62) This shift highlights a deeper irony: while Joo Jaekyung has always prided himself on his physical strength, he is now being tested in a way that cannot be resolved with fists.

Unlike episode 26, where Kim Dan was forced to confront his greatest fear, Joo Jaekyung must now face his own test: emotional resilience and identity. Just as Kim Dan had to fight an opponent he thought he could never defeat, Joo Jaekyung is confronted with a battle he cannot physically win—the fear of loss, rejection, and self-worth. His low self-esteem is linked to the ghost from the past, something he has not revealed to anyone yet. (chapter 54)

(chapter 62) Joo Jaekyung is caught by surprise with such a comment, because he always saw himself as a victim of “exploitation”. People approaching him were only interested in his money or status. More than just vulnerability, this moment exposes a deeper layer of his insecurities. Until now, his body has been admired for its strength (chapter 34), wealth (chapter 42) and title (chapter 55), not for its attractiveness or desirability. His reputation in bed has been poor; (chapter 33), he was never seen as a man with sex appeal or sensuality, but merely as a fighter who could endure. Sex was another form of exertion, a display of control and dominance rather than a pursuit of pleasure.

Now, Kim Dan’s words and request introduce a shift in perspective. (chapter 62) By implying that Joo Jaekyung can ‘use’ him as a sex doll, Kim Dan indirectly introduces the idea of sensuality—foreplay, caresses, enjoyment rather than performance. Sex is no longer work, but fun and entertainment. It is not for the doctor’s sake (chapter 13), but for his own pleasure. The defy incites the fighter to make a conscious choice contrary to the day, when both main leads took the day off: (chapter 27) (chapter 29) On the other hand, this suggestion challenges Joo Jaekyung’s previous experiences, forcing him to realize that he has never had to woo or seduce anyone before. This was the only time, where Jinx-philes could see him using his sex-appeal- (chapter 34) He got confident, because he had played a trick on his room mate. His physicality has always been his defining trait, but for the first time, he is being confronted with the question: does he have more to offer beyond brute strength and money? If he wants to prove his worth, he must do more than rely on his body—he must reveal his true self.

On the other side, Kim Dan’s actions reinforce this dynamic shift. No longer seeking validation through self-sacrifice, he is finally fighting for himself. He does not kneel (chapter 26); he stands. (chapter 62) He does not plead; he challenges. This reversal is significant because it places Joo Jaekyung in the uncomfortable position of emotional uncertainty. In episode 26, the champion was confident in his control over the situation. In episode 62, he is on the verge of losing control—not over a fight, but over a person. Hence he can no longer control his erection. (chapter 62)

The problem is that his “doctor” and partner has a rather negative opinion about him. This means that the star needs to change his mind and heart. In addition, money is now used against him: (chapter 62). Even if they have sex, he can not expect feelings or attachment from Kim Dan – though it is clear that the doctor is deceiving himself. Through this suggestion, the physical therapist is not realizing that he is learning how to love properly: unconditional love. Having feelings without any expectation. He won’t give anything to Joo Jaekyung, he will be passive and actually receive affection. But naturally, here it just represents the first step to unconditional affection. To conclude, through the challenge, Joo Jaekyung is incited to question the nature of his feelings for Kim Dan. (chapter 61) Why does he want him to return to Seoul? Is he really looking for a physical therapist or something else? It is clear that he is longing for companionship.

This shift reinforces the idea that true strength is not just physical but emotional. In episode 26, Kim Dan learned how to face his fears. Now, in episode 62, it is Joo Jaekyung’s turn to confront his own weaknesses. The outcome of this “fight” remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: for the first time in his life, Joo Jaekyung is facing an opponent he cannot simply overpower—his own emotions and past believes.

But there exists a huge difference between 26 and 62: the location. Whereas the physical therapist entered the ring for the first time (chapter 26), which represents the MMA fighter’s world, the wolf is now the one penetrating Kim Dan’s world: the treatment table! (chapter 62) (chapter 62) The latter was brought to the hostel. I know, here I am more speculating about the next episode. However, keep in mind that the hamster brought up the past to his destined partner. (chapter 62) He mentioned their first night together forgetting their first true interaction at the gym. (chapter 1) The blue treatment table is the witness and proof that the champion never saw Kim Dan as a sex doll. So far, they never had sex on it, a sign that he respected not only Kim Dan as PT, but also the profession as such (chapter 27) Here, the champion suggested to have sex at home, and not on the table. On the other hand, Jinx-philes will certainly recall this scene where the doctor begged on his knees for money: (chapter 11) That’s how I discovered a strong connection between this item and sexuality. First, the one fantasying about the champion’s body on the treatment table had been Kim Dan (chapter 1). (chapter 1) The massage must have felt like caresses to Joo Jaekyung. So when the main lead made this mistake (chapter 1), it is very clear that Joo Jaekyung could have interpreted it as a sign for seduction later. Moreover, don’t forget the mysterious incident concerning the previous physical therapist: (chapter 1) It is no coincidence that Park Namwook’s words have a sexual connotation reviving my theory that a doctor might have made sexual advances there. Here, I feel the need to add another observation which came to my mind, the moment I focused on the blue treatment table. (chapter 37) In the States, the athlete received his treatment on the floor, a sign of a disrespect for that profession from the manager and even MFC. They somehow knew that the fighter had brought his “sex partner” for his jinx, but they had no idea about his identity. By paying attention to the blue treatment table, I realized that this item stands for power, secret, courage and vulnerability.

It is important for the two characters to clear up the misunderstandings from the past, especially if you recall the champion’s reaction, when he heard the doctor’s reproach: (chapter 62) According to my interpretation, Joo Jaekyung had interpreted the mistake for some advances and keep in mind that the fighter felt also attracted to the physical therapist. (chapter 56) In other words, he projected his own desires onto the “hamster”. But since he was still with the green-haired guy, he needed to mask his true intention: (chapter 1) -thus he asked for a treatment. He was about to drop the man.

So if they don’t move to a different location or remove the treatment table, the latter will serve as a place for a new experiment. Joo Jaekyung could become a “PT” and Kim Dan is the “patient” who receives a full body massage. (chapter 1) However, contrary to their first encounter, the champion would be talking to his neighbor. While the doctor is thinking, he will relive his first night in the penthouse, the other might reproduce his first treatment, though it should be certainly combined with the intercourse on the couch: . (chapter 29)

Finally, since the doctor brought up sex in front of the treatment table (chapter 62), it actually reveals the doctor’s lack of respect for his own profession and low self-esteem. I believe that he has the impression that he never improved the champion’s form and skills. He came to this perception because the athlete has expressed the following wish: once he wins back his title, they go separate ways. (chapter 62) But he made such an offer, because he thought, he was respecting the doctor’s wish. This shows that the athlete needs to converse properly with the doctor and not just make assumptions (MO from his manager). Moreover, the star has never expressed his gratitude and admiration towards Kim Dan concerning his talents and efforts openly. The problem is that he can not compliment him yet, because Joo Jaekyung is trying to “forget” the past and as such he is repressing the fight with Baek Junmin. I feel like the champion is on his way to discover the medical world and chapter 62 represents a prelude.

The Importance of Balance

Just before his suicide attempt, the doctor was plagued with regrets and remorse. He felt guilty because of his grandmother’s illness. (chapter 57) He should have sent her to the hospital and ensure that she received treatment. Notably, after the sea incident, Joo Jaekyung took Kim Dan to the hospital, but the latter rejected the champion’s advice and help. (chapter 60) Later, when Joo Jaekyung expressed concern over his bruise, Kim Dan once again pushed him away. (chapter 61) Should Kim Dan eventually fall ill, he cannot place blame on his fated partner—he is ultimately responsible for his own well-being. On the other hand, through his own circumstances, Kim Dan may come to understand that he was never responsible for Shin Okja’s health issues as well. As an adult, she should have taken responsibility for her own medical care, rather than relying entirely on him.

However, Kim Dan would not be truly responsible for his illness, because the physical therapist doesn’t know about Cheolmin’s intervention and recommendation. (chapter 13) So it dawned on me that if the doctor gets sick, Joo Jaekyung will be fueled with regrets and guilt, as he didn’t listen to Cheolmin’s advice. So this could lead him to apologize to Kim Dan. On the other hand, his illness could serve as a reminder to the fighter that he needs to treat his physical therapist and friend better. He only sent for the doctor because of “sex”. To conclude, both would be responsible for this terrible situation, a balance of responsibility.

I have to admit that thanks a student, I had a huge revelation. I discovered that human body has 6 senses in reality: hearing, sight, touch, taste, smell and finally sense of balance. That’s how I realized that a crucial theme in Jinx is the sense of balance, both physically and metaphorically. Kim Dan’s dizziness (chapter 57) is not just a symptom of overwork and lack of sleep—it symbolizes the deep imbalance in his life. His world consists only of work (chapter 62), without fun, rest, or emotional fulfillment. He has no hobby, no personal joy, and no real human connections. He is suffering from depression. Interestingly, the sense of balance is directly tied to the ear, which aligns with his emotional “deafness”—his lack of true contact with others. (chapter 61) His mind and heart are no longer listening; he is trapped in his own darkness. His dizziness and fainting spells mirror this imbalance, making his physical weakness a reflection of his emotional detachment.

Similarly, Joo Jaekyung experiences his own imbalance, reflected through his headaches (chapter 54) and drinking habits. (chapter 54) His entire life has been dedicated to work and physical prowess, leaving no space for genuine happiness or emotional well-being. His drinking is not just an escape—it is a manifestation of his need to silence his thoughts and emotions. In episode 44, when Kim Dan expressed admiration for his body, he patted his head (chapter 44), he caressed his cheeks (chapter 44) and kissed his ear (chapter 44) —a moment that could be seen as an attempt to restore balance, to bring warmth to the parts of Joo Jaekyung that had been ignored emotionally. However, during that night, Joo Jaekyung was drunk, further disconnecting himself from reality.

After Kim Dan’s departure, Joo Jaekyung instinctively turned to drinking. (chapter 54) His headaches intensified, and he isolated himself, mirroring Kim Dan’s earlier state of detachment. His drinking hadn’t just become a habit—it was mourning, a sign of his internal loss. It was, as if deep down he wanted to forget this intoxicating feeling of happiness from that night in the penthouse. The departure of Kim Dan caused both of them to lose their already fragile balance, reinforcing the idea that their dynamic, as unhealthy as it had been, was stabilizing them in ways they never acknowledged.

Joo Jaekyung’s needs and desires

While the doctor said such words (chapter 62) to his fated partner, the celebrity was turning his back to the doctor. He was not looking at his physical therapist. However, if you recall his request to the manager, he expressed the desire to see Kim Dan’s face. (chapter 56) It was, as if the champion no longer needed to see his former room mate. Note that he even waited for the evening before approaching doc Dan again. (chapter 62) How do we explain this evolution?

Though in episode 56, he claimed to Park Namwook that just seeing Kim Dan’s face would be enough, the moment he saw the doctor’s visage in the photo (chapter 60), he immediately went to the town. This contradiction reveals that mere visual presence was never sufficient—what he truly longed for was something deeper. And as soon as he saw him, he felt much better, (chapter 61) hence he could remove his splint. That’s how powerful drug Kim Dan is. 😉

Secondly, his experience at the hospice solidified his need for companionship. (chapter 61) While undergoing treatment, he saw Kim Dan every day, yet he remained unsatisfied due to the silent treatment. It was not enough to simply observe him; what Joo Jaekyung truly craved was conversation, interaction, and recognition. This explains his decision to move into the town, settling near Kim Dan as his neighbor. (chapter 61) It also sheds light on why, during their latest encounter, he chose to turn his back on Kim Dan—he no longer needed to ‘see his face,’ he wanted acknowledgment and his return to the penthouse. He has not grasped it yet, but he already views the protagonist as his family and home.

The problem is that the champion has never had a companion before. Besides, Park Namwook in that aspect is no role model. (chapter 46) He is full of prejudices and not willing to listen to his boss. Therefore Joo Jaekyung doesn’t know that in order to become close, conversations must never be one-sided and have to be free from prejudices and assumptions. Joo Jaekyung needs to listen and show an interest in his partner. And now, observe the communication between the two main leads in the room. (chapter 62) He only talks about himself and his future. This stands in opposition to the doctor’s exchange in front of the hospice: (chapter 62) He asked a question, while the other did not! He just made assumptions from his part, hence he suggested “separate ways”. It was naturally his way of being considerate. That’s why I have the feeling that two words could move Kim Dan’s heart: “HOME” and “HYUNG”. If he calls him that way, the doctor is now recognized as a family member, even as a senior. Hence he needs to be treated with respect.

Inside the room, Joo Jaekyung is compelled to admit a truth (chapter 62) he had previously ignored—he is undeniably attracted to Kim Dan’s body, particularly his nipples, which have repeatedly (chapter 27) triggered strong reactions in him. (chapter 62) This moment directly ties back to Kim Dan’s earlier reproach: ‘You only want me for my body.’ However, the irony is that this confession forces Joo Jaekyung to recognize that his attachment is not just physical. His actions—moving closer, watching over Kim Dan, seeking his presence—reveal a much deeper longing. In acknowledging his attraction, he also faces the realization that his desires are no longer as simple as they once were. He is no longer in control of his body, he has now become dependent on Kim Dan physically and emotionally. And now, you comprehend why I connected this episode to chapter 29 too: (chapter 29) That’s the moment he expressed his interest in the doctor’s nipples for the first time. This even became a habit: (chapter 44). And what did the doctor whisper during that magical night? (chapter 44) He wanted him to treasure his body!! In my eyes, Kim Dan’s suggestion in episode 62 is hiding another intention, though it is definitely unconscious: (chapter 44) He wants to relive that night (chapter 44), though in his mind, he desires to have a bad experience so that he can erase him from his mind. Finally, what do the nipples symbolize? Motherhood and nurturing. (chapter 57)

Emotional Growth and the Concept of Losing

The ultimate irony is that while Joo Jaekyung has spent his life proving his worth through his body, Kim Dan is the one who now forces him to confront what lies beyond it. Episode 26 showed that losing a bet was no great tragedy; it is about timing and seizing the opportunity. (chapter 26) Moreover, it was thanks to a trick that Kim Dan won: (chapter 26)

Thus I deduce that it is now the champion’s turn to bite the bullet. If he wants to understand his sex partner, he needs to talk to him and ask questions. And this brings me back to episode 26. Back then, the fighter’s comments were full of bias. (chapter 26) He felt superior and strong, whereas his rival was weak. Moreover, he imagined that Kim Dan would ask for money for the bet. (chapter 26) That’s why I believe that in the next episode, the roles should be switched. Kim Dan always saw himself morally superior and caring to the star, but in truth, his care was rather superficial, for he also showed no interest in the champion’s past and family. Thus I come to the following deduction that episode 62 suggests that arguing is not about losing or winning, but about listening. The champion has unknowingly become a caretaker, not only to the people of the town but, potentially, to Kim Dan himself. The question remains whether he will recognize that Kim Dan’s provocation is not just another fight lost (cutting off ties) —it is a seductive challenge to redefine his understanding of worth and their relationship. What are they to each other? A client and a prostitute? A fighter and a doctor? Or simply two men who are longing for the same: belonging and love. Nevertheless, due to their past, they are unable to detect the true source of their misery: their lack of reflection, own bias and anxieties.

The Path Toward Mutual Understanding

Kim Dan’s trembling fist (chapter 62), his voice speaking up for himself, his refusal to negotiate his body’s worth (chapter 62) —these are not just acts of defiance but of transformation. He is becoming proactive sexually (initiative, seduction). By stepping away from Joo Jaekyung, he forces the champion to consider whether strength and money alone are enough to hold onto what truly matters. And in this, Jinx presents its most profound challenge yet: can a man who has spent his entire life fighting with his body learn to fight for something greater?

PS: I am expecting in episode 63 reflections from episode 29, 36, 39 among others.

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 Clueless 🫨❓One Way Street to Kim Dan 🐹

In Jinx, the relationship between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan takes center stage as a transformative journey, marked by unexpected decisions and evolving dynamics. This journey is not only metaphorical but also visual, as emphasized in episode 61 through the recurring imagery of Joo Jaekyung’s car. Mingwa dedicates numerous panels (chapter 61) to the champion’s expensive car (chapter 61), which symbolizes his personal and emotional odyssey. The car embodies a dual symbolism: on one hand, it represents his quest for happiness, freedom, and purpose; on the other, it signifies civilization and his disconnection from nature. Each frame highlights not just his physical travel but the deeper changes he undergoes along the way.

The car’s prominence underscores the champion’s life of privilege and control, yet it also signifies his yearning for something more meaningful. The zoom on the screeching wheel in Episode 61 (chapter 61) marks a pivotal moment: his journey reaches its destination at the hospice. This “final stop” symbolizes his decision to live closer to Kim Dan and find a sense of rest and belonging. However, the screeching wheel also represents an unconscious choice by the fighter. At this stage, he perceives his visit as temporary, limited to his rehabilitation. (chapter 61) This explains why, later, the athlete is shown honking at Kim Dan while driving in the opposite direction, illustrating that his mindset had not yet shifted fully. (chapter 61) In the final scene, the car is no longer present, symbolizing the completion of his journey, as he settles near Kim Dan and redefines his purpose. By settling near Kim Dan (chapter 61), Joo Jaekyung shifts his focus from external accomplishments to internal growth and emotional connection.

At its core, the essay “A Clueless One-Way Street to Kim Dan” explores how Joo Jaekyung’s choices, initially rooted in habit (chapter 61) and superficial assumptions (chapter 61), lead him into uncharted emotional territory. This essay examines the pivotal moments that highlight his progression—from the conversation with the manipulative orthopedic surgeon to his introspective thoughts in his penthouse, his trip to the small town, and, ultimately, his realization of the permanence of his new path. By analyzing these stages, it becomes evident that Joo Jaekyung’s seemingly routine actions mark a profound and irreversible change in his life, especially as his relationship with Kim Dan shifts from a boss-employee dynamic to a pure doctor-patient bond before becoming neighbors.

The Surgeon’s Manipulation: A Subtle Push

The orthopedic surgeon, (chapter 61) Park Junmin, displays a striking lack of empathy and a clear focus on self-interest in his interactions with Joo Jaekyung across two pivotal chapters. In Episode 54, he highlights Joo Jaekyung’s prolonged recovery, urging him to rest but failing to show genuine concern for his well-being. (chapter 54) (chapter 61) By Episode 61, his attitude becomes overtly transactional, reflecting a focus on securing Joo Jaekyung’s rehabilitation at his hospital to boost its reputation. During their first consultation, Park Junmin avoided eye contact, using the computer as a shield to mask his detachment and avoid accountability. In their second conversation, however, he looks directly at Joo Jaekyung and even smiles, attempting to project warmth. This shift underscores his passive and opportunistic nature: he subtly blames Joo Jaekyung’s body for the slow recovery but later seeks credit for the champion’s improvement. His behavior dehumanizes Joo Jaekyung, treating his body as merchandise to enhance the hospital’s prestige, as evidenced by his manipulative remark, (chapter 61) This statement reflects his agenda rather than any genuine concern for the champion’s future.

The lack of empathy in Park Junmin’s approach is further emphasized by his name, a combination of “Park,” the manager, and “Baek Junmin,” the last fighter. This naming convention may signify a deliberate connection to figures who have exploited or controlled the main lead for their own gain. Park Junmin’s behavior mirrors these themes, reducing Joo Jaekyung to a tool for professional prestige rather than treating him as a person with multifaceted needs. While the manager saw in the fighter a “boy” (chapter 40), the other considered him as a baby. (chapter 49) And what is the other common denominator between these three characters? (chapter 54) (chapter 49) (chapter 61) They expressed not only urgency, but also their desire to see the champion prove his “value” in the ring. This shows that none of them are seeing the main lead as a man, even as an adult. For them, he is just a fighter and he has no private life. Park Junmin’s pseudo-suggestion (chapter 61) , which masquerades as encouragement but subtly imposes his own agenda, reminds me of the behavior of Park Namwook (chapter 56), the lawyer, and the manager from the entertainment agency, who all used similar tactics. (chapter 36) They all had expectations on him.

What is striking here is Joo Jaekyung’s response. (chapter 61) While we do not see his gaze, his expression oozes dissatisfaction, revealing that he is fully aware of the manipulation at play. This moment mirrors his reaction in Chapter 6 (chapter 6), where he recognized how Kim Dan like the others were exploiting him for his money and reputation. However, this time, his awareness reflects growth: thanks to the doctor’s polite refusal (chapter 60), Joo Jaekyung now knows about the sincerity and humility of Kim Dan in contrast to those who treat him like a commodity. Thanks to Kim Dan, he is able to reject the pseudo-suggestion and instead prioritize a more genuine and respectful dynamic. He instinctively rejects the offer by stating that he will receive treatment elsewhere, a decision that catches the surgeon off guard and further showcases Joo Jaekyung’s resistance to being controlled. Turning away from the hospital, Joo Jaekyung unknowingly embarks on a journey shaped by his emotional needs, though he remains unaware of the full implications of this decision.

The Penthouse Reflections: Clinging to the Past

Joo Jaekyung’s return to his penthouse (chapter 61) marks a period of superficial introspection (chapter 61) where he begins to rationalize his actions. (chapter 61) He imagines the situation as analogous to his past—using fame, money, and connections to achieve his goals. (chapter 61) In his mind, this scenario is nothing new; he is simply leveraging his resources to secure treatment from Kim Dan (chapter 61), much like he has done countless times before in other contexts. However, this rationalization obscures a critical difference: he is no longer in control of the dynamic.

The transformation of their relationship into a pure doctor-patient dynamic represents a significant departure from their previous interactions. This new dynamic is marked by mutual respect and the absence of the power imbalances that once defined their connection. (chapter 61) Joo Jaekyung’s decision to seek treatment from Kim Dan, rather than the hospital recommended by Park Junmin, signals his growing trust in Kim Dan’s abilities and judgment. It also reflects an implicit acknowledgment of the positive impact Kim Dan has had on his life, even though Kim Dan has not yet treated him.

What makes this transition particularly compelling is Joo Jaekyung’s gradual awareness of the emotional implications of this shift. (chapter 61) As he adjusts to a life dictated by Kim Dan’s schedule, he begins to recognize the limitations of his previous reliance on fame, money, and connections. This realization is not immediate but unfolds as he navigates the challenges of adapting to a new way of life. The loss of his VIP status becomes a catalyst for personal growth, forcing him to confront his vulnerabilities and redefine his sense of self beyond his achievements. This implies that the balance of power is moving closer to equity, though it is not achieved yet. Kim Dan’s refusal to return to the gym compels Joo Jaekyung to adapt to his terms, diminishing the power dynamic that previously defined their relationship. Kim Dan is now the one controlling the champion’s time. This shift signifies the erosion of the transactional nature of their relationship. No longer a boss commanding an employee, Joo Jaekyung becomes a patient seeking help from a professional. (chapter 61) That’s why Kim Dan can leave his side right away after the treatment. Moreover, the main lead feels no longer obliged to talk to his fated partner. He interacts as little as possible with the MMA fighter. (chapter 61) The champion is confronted with silence and emotional distance revealing that Joo Jaekyung is looking for something else. I would even add that he needed to experience this new approach as failure in order to force himself to change his MO and mind-set. This loss of status as a VIP underscores a larger theme in the narrative: the futility of relying on external markers of success to navigate personal relationships.

The Illusion of Separation Versus Reality

During his penthouse reflections, Joo Jaekyung envisions a future (chapter 61) where he receives treatment from Kim Dan and then parts ways, as if their connection could be neatly severed. This imagined scenario reveals his reluctance to acknowledge the depth of their bond. Influenced by Park Junmin and Park Namwook’s words (chapter 61), Joo Jaekyung begins to internalize the idea that his relationship with Kim Dan is purely functional and temporary. However, this perception is far from reality.

The juxtaposition of this imagined separation with the scene of Joo Jaekyung honking his car horn behind Kim Dan highlights the disconnect between fiction and reality. (chapter 61) In the image with the car, Joo Jaekyung is following Kim Dan, unaware of the symbolic significance of his actions. He thought that by driving towards the doctor, the latter would notice him and ask for a ride. However, in this small town, the physical therapist doesn’t need any transportation. I would even add, because of this experience (chapter 32) (chapter 32), the “hamster” learned to be cautious about such “generous offers”. 😂 That’s why the physical therapist is rejecting any assistance from the athlete. Because of this reminder (chapter 60), Joo Jaekyung lost all his credibility in the doctor’s eyes. From that moment on, Kim Dan is perceiving any offer or genuine concern as a trick and fake assistance with selfish intentions. Hence the hamster can no longer see the celebrity’s genuine and selfless action, like this one: (chapter 61) Each time Kim Dan turns his back on him (chapter 61), it reinforces Joo Jaekyung’s subconscious pursuit. The honking scene represents reality—Joo Jaekyung knows what he wants (here his attention) and continues to follow Kim Dan, yet he does not recognize the emotional dependency forming through these actions.

Contrastingly, in his imagined separation, Joo Jaekyung places himself and Kim Dan as individuals moving in opposite directions, as though their paths can diverge without consequence. (chapter 61) This contrast emphasizes the deeper truth: their positions in the honking scene reflect their emotional states and goals in life. Joo Jaekyung is grounded, determined, and focused (initially thinking of his title), whereas Kim Dan is aimless, lost, and struggling with suicidal thoughts. The honking car scene becomes a metaphor for their intertwined fates—Joo Jaekyung’s persistence and clarity must ultimately provide direction and purpose to Kim Dan’s life. At the same time, it implies that the athlete also needs to change his goal now. He can no longer keep thinking of his title, if he desires to get the doctor’s attention and closeness. He needs to become less self-centered and selfish. In other words, the honking scene marks a pivotal turning point in the champion’s life, signifying a path of no return. And the evidence is that right after this image, the car not only vanishes, but also is replaced with this little house which was remodeled into a hostel before. (chapter 61)

Moving to the Little Town: A New Reality

Joo Jaekyung’s decision to move to the small town marks a significant turning point in his journey. (chapter 61) This transition is not just physical but deeply symbolic, contrasting his former life of isolation and detachment in the penthouse with a new environment characterized by community and connection.

The white penthouse, towering above the city, reflects Joo Jaekyung’s loneliness and separation from others. (chapter 61) Its luxurious yet cold atmosphere symbolizes his exclusion and lack of roots. It is a sterile world. (chapter 35) Living above everyone else, like a god, further emphasizes his disconnection from the world around him. Seoul itself, as a city of anonymity, amplifies this isolation. The penthouse’s grandeur and emptiness serve as a stark reminder of his solitary existence, where material success failed to provide fulfillment. (chapter 61) The panel where he reflects on his “confusing feelings” encapsulates this sense of emotional emptiness. Standing alone in the grand yet sterile space, he recognizes the hollowness of his success and his growing need to confront and process his emotions. This moment becomes the catalyst for his move, symbolizing his readiness to leave behind the detachment of his past.

In contrast, his new house in the small town represents a shift toward belonging and grounding. (chapter 61) The presence of neighbors, a garden with plants, the refraction and fresh air signify his move toward a more connected, colorful and harmonious life. He is now closer to nature. (chapter 61) The T-shirt he wears, emblazoned with “Fair of God Essentials,” subtly reflects his evolving mindset. The phrase evokes themes of humility and essentialism, aligning with his journey from a life defined by material excess to one centered on genuine connection and simplicity. The notion of “being neighbors” further emphasizes his integration into the community—a stark contrast to his isolated existence in the penthouse. The house is no longer just a space but a reflection of his evolving priorities.

Another layer of this transformation is revealed through Joo Jaekyung’s interactions with Shin Okja, Kim Dan’s grandmother. (chapter 61) Drawing from past experiences, the champion believed that treating Shin Okja well would win Kim Dan’s favor. In earlier episodes, Kim Dan expressed gratitude with a gentle smile (chapter 22) when Joo Jaekyung made efforts to bring a smile to his grandmother’s face, even going so far as to cook him breakfast afterward. (chapter 22) Having missed Kim Dan’s meals and the intimacy they symbolized, Joo Jaekyung unconsciously imagines that this approach will recreate that connection.

However, this strategy backfires. (chapter 61) The doctor is showing his disappointment with his mouth. Kim Dan, burdened by his own painful experiences with his grandmother, has come to see their relationship as fractured. (chapter 57) Shin Okja’s rejection of Kim Dan, telling him he was a stranger and should return to Seoul, further deepened the divide. In a significant moment, Shin Okja uses for the champion the phrase “our little town,” (chapter 61) which gives the impression that she is including Kim Dan in her sense of community. However, in Episode 57 she had expressed the exact opposite. For her, home is deeply tied to family and childhood, while Kim Dan, who spent most of his time in Seoul, represents a disconnection from that shared history. So when she utilized this idiom, she was referring to the community in general.

This expression, “our little town,” is relevant because it shapes Joo Jaekyung’s perception of Kim Dan. He begins to think that Kim Dan belongs to the town and came there in order to get support (chapter 60), unaware of the rejection Kim Dan experiences from his grandmother. Joo Jaekyung may even believe that the old man in the town is a relative of Kim Dan, further solidifying his misunderstanding. Note that he doesn’t investigate Kim Dan’s life, he judges him based on impressions and appearances, especially since he can no longer talk to him. These interactions underline a crucial misalignment: while Joo Jaekyung interprets Shin Okja’s words as inclusive and warm, Kim Dan can only be reminded of his exclusion and estrangement. Shin Okja’s conversation with Joo Jaekyung will undoubtedly play a significant role in the future: a point of no return.

When Shin Okja offers her affection to Joo Jaekyung (chapter 61) —taking his hand and even offering him yogurts (chapter 61), gestures she denied her own grandson in season 2 —it can only exacerbate Kim Dan’s feelings of alienation. The zoomed panel of their hands (chapter 61) is laden with significance, suggesting that Kim Dan is observing this moment with jealousy and pain. Instead of fostering closeness, Joo Jaekyung’s well-intentioned efforts inadvertently drive a wedge between himself and Kim Dan, making the latter feel as though his grandmother’s affection is being taken away. In fact, this scene outlines the grandmother’s selfishness and neglect towards Kim Dan. She expresses her worries for the champion’s loss of weight (chapter 61), but seems to have forgotten that Kim Dan is in a similar situation. (chapter 57) By moving to that place, the athlete can say that he belongs to that place and can claim his closeness to the grandmother.

It raises an intriguing question: did he rent or buy this place? Based on his actions and growing attachment to Kim Dan, it seems more likely that he purchased the house, though his intentions may not be to stay forever in the beginning. (chapter 61) Instead, the house symbolizes a period of rest and healing, as he himself acknowledges that this space is intertwined with the idea of taking a break. Naturally, his statement is a mixture of truth and lie. He has to hide his true intentions from the “old man”.

This comparison between the penthouse and the new house highlights Joo Jaekyung’s transformation. The penthouse’s sterile opulence contrasts sharply with the warmth and potential for growth in his new surroundings. By choosing to leave behind the isolation of his previous life, Joo Jaekyung takes a step toward a future where he is no longer defined by material success but by his ability to connect with others and nurture meaningful relationships.

At the same time, the move underscores the irony of his situation. While Joo Jaekyung initially imagined that his actions would lead to gratitude and closeness (chapter 61), the reality is far more complex. Kim Dan’s insistence on maintaining professional boundaries forces Joo Jaekyung to confront the limitations of his influence and the necessity of respecting Kim Dan’s autonomy. The daily routine of seeking treatment (chapter 61) becomes a metaphor for the gradual dismantling of his old ways of thinking, paving the way for personal growth and a deeper understanding of their evolving bond.

But why did he move? We have to envision that till his move to that place, he must have traveled each day from Seoul. Imagine the time he spent on the road!! (chapter 61) And each time, his treatment sessions were so short and didn’t fulfill the champion’s expectations. 😂 His motivations for this move stem from his realization that Kim Dan was drawing a clear line between them, one defined strictly by their doctor-patient relationship. Despite Joo Jaekyung’s attempts to recreate the dynamics of their past interactions, he begins to understand that Kim Dan’s boundaries are unyielding. (chapter 61) He can no longer hide his special relationship behind work. (chapter 61) This means that his move announces a change in their relationship: privacy. They are neighbors and as such acquaintances.

The move signifies Joo Jaekyung’s willingness to adapt to this new reality, even if it challenges his sense of control and comfort. By relocating, he not only physically places himself closer to Kim Dan but also symbolically acknowledges the shift in their relationship. (chapter 61) This decision highlights his growing dependency on Kim Dan’s presence and care, even as he struggles to navigate the limitations imposed by the doctor-patient dynamic.

Awakening Maternal Instincts in the champion

Interestingly, the number 6 itself is often associated with themes of motherhood, care, harmony, and the ability to foster deep emotional connections. It embodies community, home, and a sense of togetherness, qualities that Joo Jaekyung begins to embody as his transformation unfolds, reinforcing the symbolic depth of this arc.

That’s why I come to the following deduction. Episodes 60 to 69 represent a significant arc in Joo Jaekyung’s character development, particularly as he awakens to his nurturing, almost maternal instincts. This shift is first revealed in his immediate concern upon noticing the large bruise on Kim Dan’s arm. (chapter 61) Despite working in a hospice surrounded by trained nurses (chapter 61), no one else notices or comments on this obvious injury. It was, as if the staff including the director were all blinded by the celebrity’s status and wealth. (chapter 61) This detail underscores Joo Jaekyung’s unique focus on Kim Dan, contrasting the indifference or detachment of those around him. (chapter 61) However, there exist other reasons for their neglect. Like the director of this hospice pointed out, this institution is focused on elderly people and cancer. (chapter 61) So unconsciously, they came to develop the following belief: only elderly people can get sick. This explicates why the doctor and the nurse recommended rest to Joo Jaekyung (chapter 60). They imagined that Kim Dan was simply suffering from a burnout. (chapter 57) However, in real life, young people can become ill too. Secondly, cancer is not the only disease in the world, just like burnout is not the only mental issue. There exists so many disorders and diseases that it is important that a hospital doesn’t focus too much on one illness. Why? It is because the hospice or hospital will lose its patients in the long run. No wonder why the institution in this little town is not modernized. (chapter 61) Therefore with the arrival of Joo Jaekyung at the hospice, it becomes clear that this institution will be forced to change its strategy and even its name. From a hospice to a hospital… It is no coincidence that the director of the movie called it a hospital (chapter 59). He didn’t make the distinction in the end.

But let’s return our attention to the celebrity and his shocking discovery. (chapter 61) Joo Jaekyung’s sincere concern, however, is short-lived for two reasons. (chapter 61) First, Kim Dan rejects his assistance (chapter 61), creating an emotional barrier that Joo Jaekyung respects (chapter 61), even if begrudgingly. Secondly, Joo Jaekyung quickly connects the bruise to the removal of a needle (chapter 61), which absolves him of any perceived responsibility for Kim Dan’s injury. This logical deduction, while correct, also highlights the limits of his emotional insight at this stage. Although he recognizes the physical signs of distress, he does not yet fully grasp the emotional struggles underlying them and the danger behind this huge bruise.

This moment is pivotal because it reveals Joo Jaekyung’s potential to care deeply for others, even as he struggles to navigate the boundaries imposed by Kim Dan. It marks the beginning of a shift from seeing Kim Dan as merely his doctor to recognizing the vulnerabilities and needs of the person behind the professional role.

Another key figure in this transformation is Boksoon, the dog, (chapter 61) who serves as a symbol of motherhood and nature. Boksoon’s own experiences, including the loss of a puppy (chapter 59), highlight the impact of nurturing and loss, shaping her behavior toward both her puppies and humans. She should become more attentive and reliant on humans, notifying them if something is wrong. Her heightened sensitivity positions her as a potential bridge between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, subtly training the champion’s nurturing instincts. Hence in front of the house, she stands between the main couple. (chapter 61)

The landlord, who owns Boksoon, also plays a crucial role in this dynamic. Initially, the grandfather denies responsibility for the puppy’s death (chapter 59), attributing it to the natural order and failing to take proactive steps like seeking veterinary care. (chapter 57) This missed opportunity underscores the consequences of neglect, in contrast to Boksoon’s increased attentiveness. On the other side, the old man paid attention to Kim Dan’s odd behavior (his alcoholism – chapter 57 -, his workaholism – chapter 57 ) Hence I am assuming that he will be a source of information for the champion. And now pay attention to their position in front of the house: (chapter 61) The landlord and Boksoon together create a link between the two protagonists, building a bridge of shared responsibility and care. Joo Jaekyung’s proximity to Kim Dan, the landlord, and Boksoon demands that he earn their trust and favor. This interconnected relationship encourages him to focus not just on Kim Dan but also on the community around him, further cultivating his maternal instincts and sense of responsibility. With the vanishing of his car, he is not using his status to demonstrate his superiority. With his attitude, he is trying to create a genuine relationship with his “neighbors”. Naturally, he has not dropped his “selfishness” entirely yet. Hence his smile is a mixture of sincerity and calculation: (chapter 61)

A Shared Goal: Standing Side by Side

The contrasting images—the honking car (chapter 61) and the imagined separation (chapter 61) —underscore the emotional stakes of Joo Jaekyung’s journey. The honking car scene captures the reality of their relationship: Joo Jaekyung’s determined pursuit of Kim Dan, despite the latter’s emotional distance and struggles. The imagined separation, on the other hand, reflects Joo Jaekyung’s initial misunderstanding of their bond as something temporary and transactional.

For Joo Jaekyung to truly help Kim Dan, he must realize that their goals must align. Kim Dan’s suicidal tendencies and lack of direction require more than professional care; they need emotional support and a new sense of purpose.

(chapter 61) By changing his approach, Joo Jaekyung can become a source of stability and meaning in Kim Dan’s life. The narrative suggests that the ultimate resolution lies in their ability to stand side by side, as equals, sharing a common goal and mutual understanding. This alignment is foreshadowed in the final scene, where their positions symbolize unity and a shared future. However, their hands are not joined. In my opinion, the last image announces the birth of a real team. And this brings me back to his imagined separation. Even in his superficial pondering and rationalized thoughts, the champion is always seen alone. (chapter 61) There is no real Team Black and team spirit. In that small town, he will discover the power of a team.

The Road of No Return

Joo Jaekyung’s decision to seek treatment from Kim Dan ultimately represents a turning point that reshapes his life in ways he could not have anticipated. This choice, though seemingly minor at the time, sets him on a path of no return, where his time, priorities, and emotional well-being become increasingly intertwined with Kim Dan’s presence. (chapter 61) The daily travel for treatment serves as a metaphor for this new reality, where Joo Jaekyung’s life is no longer dictated by his own terms but by the needs and schedules of another.

This shift highlights the inevitability of change and the limitations of attempting to control every aspect of one’s life. Joo Jaekyung’s journey underscores the importance of embracing vulnerability and relinquishing control, even in the face of uncertainty. By choosing to prioritize his well-being over external markers of success, he begins to forge a new path that is defined not by what he has achieved but by who he is becoming. (chapter 61) He is now a citizen of that small community, hence he is bound by social norms and traditions. So the move symbolizes that Joo Jaekyung has begun to internalize the notion of respect. Moreover, this internalization of laws and boundaries is essential for developing true bravery, as it requires understanding and respecting limits to navigate relationships and challenges meaningfully. [For more read my essay Cowardice versus courage: innate or learnable?] In order to expose his true self and as such his vulnerabilities, he needs to become courageous and as such to cross the line. By choosing to settle in a small town, he acknowledges the need to adhere to norms and laws. This environment, which values community and accountability, highlights the shift in his mindset. Unlike before, where his wealth and status allowed him to bypass consequences (chapter 37), Joo Jaekyung now operates within a framework where he must respect boundaries and take responsibility for his actions. This transition signifies his understanding that money cannot shield him from the realities of interpersonal relationships and the consequences of his past behavior. To conclude, he can no longer cross the line and return to his old self.

Conclusion

Joo Jaekyung’s journey in episode 61 reveals the transformative power of vulnerability, frustration, connection, and the willingness to confront one’s own limitations. His evolution from a detached and transactional figure to a character who values genuine relationships underscores a broader theme of self-discovery and personal growth. Each pivotal moment—be it the manipulative pseudo-suggestions of Park Junmin, his reflections in the penthouse, or his interactions with Shin Okja—serves as a step along the road to change.

The move to the small town symbolizes more than a change in location; it reflects his internalization of respect, the importance of boundaries, and the understanding that true bravery arises from accepting and operating within those limits. The shift from isolation in his penthouse to embracing a community-oriented life highlights his desire to integrate into a world defined by accountability and care, rather than wealth and privilege.

His bond with Kim Dan serves as the emotional core of this transformation. Initially rooted in a hierarchical dynamic, their relationship evolves into one of mutual dependency and growth. Joo Jaekyung’s recognition of Kim Dan’s sincerity and resilience pushes him to challenge his own assumptions and adapt to a new reality. However, this journey is not without its missteps, as seen in his interactions with the director and Shin Okja, which inadvertently deepen Kim Dan’s feelings of alienation.

Ultimately, Joo Jaekyung’s story is a testament to the complexities of human connection. It demonstrates how seemingly small decisions—whether it’s choosing to move, rejecting manipulative advice, or taking notice of another’s pain—can ripple into profound changes. By embracing vulnerability and relinquishing control, Joo Jaekyung steps onto a path that is defined not by external achievements but by the authenticity of his relationships and his willingness to grow. His journey highlights that true transformation often requires navigating a one-way street, leaving behind the familiar and embracing the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

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 Fault in His Powerful Hands 👊

At the hospice, Joo Jaekyung admitted to Kim Dan that he was not the one responsible for the incident with the switched spray. (chapter 60) However, this revelation sheds light on a deeper issue: his unquestioned reliance on the spray over Kim Dan’s expertise. (chapter 49) This choice reflects a significant lack of trust. Even with Kim Dan as his physical therapist, someone who had already proven his skills by treating his shoulder in record time (chapter 49), Joo Jaekyung chose to rely on external medicine rather than the “power of hands” that the nurse in the hospice later praises. (chapter 56)

The Misplaced Trust in Medication

This decision is revealing. (chapter 56) Here, the nurse credits Kim Dan’s care with improving the quality of life for terminally ill patients, emphasizing the tangible results of his dedication and skill. Yet, Joo Jaekyung disregards these same qualities. Instead of trusting Kim Dan, he justified his choice with the belief that the PT “wasn’t doing his job right,” a sentiment captured in his internal monologue. (chapter 55) But why was he thinking like that? He came to this judgement for two reasons. On the one hand, he was recalling the physical therapist’s nightly desertions. The latter chose to work as a courier instead of focusing on his main job. Moreover, the fact that he hadn’t checked the spray right before using it (chapter 51) This explains why the athlete imagined that Kim Dan had resigned due to his mistake. (chapter 55) However, this assumption is not only incorrect but unjust, as Kim Dan’s quick and effective treatment of his shoulder clearly demonstrates the contrary. (chapter 49) He felt no pain in his shoulder, a sign that he had been able to recover. Moreover, keep in mind what the other PT said in episode 42: (chapter 42) Finally, note that Baek Junmin was not able to defeat the dragon despite targeting his fragile shoulder. (chapter 50) The match ended up as a tie.

Kim Dan’s Hands and Regrets

The author’s focus on Kim Dan’s hands in the panel (chapter 60) where Joo Jaekyung admits his past ignorance adds a layer of emotional depth. The close-up of Kim Dan’s hands, slowly clenching, illustrates the complex mix of emotions he is experiencing in that moment. While the champion acknowledges his mistake, the tension in Kim Dan’s hands suggests a blend of guilt, frustration, and even resentment. This visual choice underscores the weight of the emotional burden Kim Dan carries—a burden made heavier by Joo Jaekyung’s previous accusations (chapter 60) and his failure to shield Kim Dan from blame. The clenched hands symbolize the internal struggle between an internal conflict between anger, indifference and lingering hurt caused by the lack of trust. What caught my attention is the sound of his jaw, KRIK, which reminded me of the star’s behavior. (chapter 56) This jaw’s movement symbolizes the return of instincts and as such to the champion’s true nature: he is a wolf. This means that the doctor is gradually losing his gentle nature and is on the verge of becoming a “wolf”. No wonder why he mimicked like the athlete at the end of episode 60: (chapter 60) He is acting like a loner wolf, whereas in reality his true personality is a hamster and duck.

Another panel, showing Kim Dan looking at his reflection and lamenting, indicates that this regret is beginning to fester. While he has not yet voiced these thoughts directly to Joo Jaekyung, the flinching hands (chapter 60) highlight the start of a growing resent. Thus I deduce that the self-directed blame could eventually shift outward, as Kim Dan begins to connect Joo Jaekyung’s role in the decision to use the spray. These subtle visual and narrative cues show how Kim Dan’s perspective is gradually evolving, laying the groundwork for potential confrontation. The clenched hands symbolize this internal struggle, balancing regret, lingering hurt, and a desire to fully understand the truth.

Incomplete Truths and Accountability

Joo Jaekyung never revisits or questions his decision to use the spray. (chapter 60) While he eventually acknowledges that Kim Dan was not to blame for the incident, he fails to recognize his own accountability in both the situation and its emotional aftermath. This lack of self-reflection extends to his understanding of Kim Dan’s mental state. Even though he knew the identity of the true orchestrator behind the scheme, the rival team, Joo Jaekyung did nothing to alleviate Kim Dan’s guilt and shame. Instead, his silence perpetuated the doctor’s internal suffering.

In addition, when Joo Jaekyung told Kim Dan, (chapter 60) his words left more questions than answers. He never clarified that the spray had been switched or explained what had truly happened. For Kim Dan, these vague words only deepened his emotional wounds. Left in ignorance, Kim Dan remains unaware that a fighter from Choi Gilseok’s team switched the spray. (chapter 52) By failing to provide a full explanation, Joo Jaekyung created the illusion that the matter was resolved. This lack of transparency leaves Kim Dan burdened with guilt and confusion, unable to find closure.

Ironically, Joo Jaekyung himself is not entirely informed. While he assumes Baek Junmin orchestrated the scheme (chapter 54), he is unaware that The Shotgun was merely a pawn used by Choi Gilseok, who had larger, more manipulative intentions. (chapter 52) I doubt that Potato told him about the director’s bet, too upset to discover the switched spray. The fighter’s ignorance mirrors Kim Dan’s in a way, highlighting how both are victims of deceit. This conversation further reflects their lack of communication, as it seems Joo Jaekyung deliberately avoids sharing his thoughts and knowledge with Kim Dan. (chapter 60) His reluctance to fully explain the situation perpetuates the emotional distance between them, leaving both trapped in a web of incomplete truths and unresolved tensions.

Mirroring Chapter 52: The Role of Toxic Relationships

This moment (chapter 60) also mirrors a significant scene from Chapter 52 (chapter 52), where Joo Jaekyung’s team visits him after the surgery at the hospital. Notably, the team members only address him when they need him to take the blame for the situation. Through this comparison, I noticed another aspect. They were all standing at a certain distance from the star’s bed. This exposes that none of them had the intention to spend time there and to give company to the athlete. At the same time, their position divulges their arrogance, lack of empathy or worries! Yes, no one is assuming that the athlete’s career is in danger. They are all somehow expecting that he will return to the ring. No wonder why their focus is entirely on the job, ignoring his well-being. When Joo Jaekyung finally voices his frustration and unwell-being (chapter 52), he is silenced with a slap. (chapter 52) This interaction reveals the deeply flawed dynamics of his relationships and the toxic role models that shaped him. His coach’s behavior—reducing everything to money and silencing emotional expression—has profoundly influenced his inability to recognize his own uncaring attitude at the hospice. (chapter 60) Yet, there exists a huge divergence between these two scenes. The athlete is now recognizing that he is dependent on his soulmate, though he is not voicing directly to Kim Dan. The hamster can not be replaced… someone needs to remind to Joo Jaekyung that life is fragile.

Kim Dan’s Rejection and Its Consequences

This parallel between 52 and 60 explains why Joo Jaekyung does not see how his attitude might appear dismissive or hurtful to Kim Dan. (chapter 60) Having grown up in an environment where emotional needs were consistently invalidated, he is blind to the damage his actions cause. Consequently, Kim Dan’s rejection and refusal to listen to him are understandable. (chapter 60) He is no longer willing to accept anything from Joo Jaekyung, hence he removes the needle. (chapter 60) The treatment is the symbol of the champion’s generosity and rescue. However, this is no longer working. So we could say that this gesture reflects the fate of the golden key chain. (chapter 45) After being blamed in the past, Kim Dan has reached his limit and chosen to stop engaging with Joo Jaekyung. However, this reaction risks exacerbating Kim Dan’s denial of his own mental illness, as he suppresses his emotions and isolates himself further. Contrary to the keychain, he can not be replaced. If he doesn’t get treated properly, his life could be in danger. (chapter 60) Hence he leaves a trail of blood on the floor.

Medication, Time and The Hospice as a Place of Healing

Joo Jaekyung’s reliance on medication (chapter 49) and quick fixes (chapter 54) reveals a deeper issue: his belief that drugs can compensate for his mistreatment of his own body. (chapter 27) By pushing himself beyond his physical limits and refusing to allow his body to rest, he clings to the power of medication as a means to sustain his performance. The hospice setting, where medicines and drugs are not perceived as vital (chapter 56), stands in stark contrast to Joo Jaekyung’s belief that medication is the only solution for treatment. Is it a coincidence that the doctor changed his prognostics about grandmother’s life span? No. It shows that without the new medication, she is supposed to live longer. Secondly it is clear that the grandmother is living well, because she is not plagued with remorse or guilt. In my opinion, through Shin Okja, the fighter should discover the power of mental health. (chapter 60) Besides, in such a place, he has the opportunity to experience how hands and comfort can surpass medication in offering true care and healing. This environment could challenge his reliance on external solutions and emphasize the value of trust and human connection.

Conclusion

Ultimately, this moment at the hospice highlights the need for Joo Jaekyung to confront his trust issues and the ripple effects of his decisions. His inability to reflect on his own actions and communicate openly with Kim Dan not only perpetuates the emotional distance between them but also prevents both from achieving closure. For Joo Jaekyung, this environment could serve as a turning point—a place where he learns to value emotional connection over quick fixes and begins to dismantle the toxic behaviors instilled by his past relationships. Similarly, for Kim Dan, this moment has the potential to bring about healing, but only if Joo Jaekyung takes the initiative to bridge the gap of trust and misunderstanding. Until both confront their shared and individual struggles, the imbalance in their relationship will persist, leaving unresolved the guilt, mistrust, and emotional wounds that weigh heavily on them both. I have to admit that by noticing the doctor’s jaw in this image (chapter 60), I am now wondering if the physical therapist won’t punch or slap the athlete in the future again. Chapter 61 is definitely connected to 7 (chapter 7) and the number 62 mirrors the famous fight in episode 62: (chapter 26)

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 Deceptive Light💡 Of Hope ❇️

Hope often implies the promise of a tomorrow, a continuation of life and opportunity. Yet in Jinx, the depiction of Kim Dan’s condition—his unconscious attempted suicide (chapter 60), deteriorating physical health (chapter 60), and the ominous setting of the hospice (chapter 60) — challenges this notion. The photographs from episode 60 subtly introduce the fifth puppy’s death as a poignant symbol of Kim Dan’s precarious fate. (chapter 60) The puppy’s appearance in only one photo (the second one from left) among many mirrors Kim Dan’s fragile existence, (chapter 60) deepening the parallel between them. This connection becomes even more striking when recalling that the grandmother once likened Kim Dan to a puppy (chapter 53), emphasizing his vulnerability and dependence on others.

Without intervention, Kim Dan’s condition—both physical and emotional—could spiral into irreparable harm, reflecting the unnoticed demise of the puppy. 😭This essay will examine these events chronologically, beginning with Joo Jaekyung’s urgent rescue and arrival at the hospice. The narrative will then explore the symbolic meaning of the photographs, including the fifth puppy’s fleeting presence and its absence in subsequent images, as well as the profound symbolism of the room where Kim Dan is placed. This analysis will reveal how both elements intertwine to foreshadow Kim Dan’s increasingly tenuous grip on life and the unspoken realities of his condition. 

The Rescue and the Green Cross

Joo Jaekyung rushed to the hospice with Kim Dan in his arms (chapter 60), he rested him on his healthy shoulder to provide support. This method of carrying, while practical in the moment, placed uneven strain on Jaekyung’s body. The weight resting on one side risked injury to his back and disrupted his balance, subtly reflecting the physical toll of his desperation to save Kim Dan. This small but significant detail underscores the sacrifices Jaekyung was willing to make in his attempt to protect him. However, since Kim Dan was unconscious, he couldn’t see the wolf’s kindness and selflessness.

Moreover, we have to imagine that while looking around for help on the beach, (chapter 60) the green cross and the name “Light of Hope” likely caught his attention, inspiring him to believe the hospice could offer immediate assistance. Jaekyung’s desperation was evident in his drenched appearance after rescuing Kim Dan from the ocean (chapter 60), coupled with his labored breathing as he hurried into the hospice. His question (chapter 60) reflected not only his uncertainty about whether the hospice could offer assistance but also the sheer urgency of his actions. This moment underscores the physical and emotional toll of his determination to save Kim Dan. Jaekyung risked worsening his own physical condition, driven by the hope that help would be available Yet the irony of this moment lies in the true purpose of the hospice: it is not a place for treatment or healing but a program dedicated to end-of-life care. (chapter 57)

This observation invites deeper reflection on why a small town would have a hospice rather than a hospital. The answer may lie in the demographic realities of the region. The aging population is evident in scenes depicting the town’s streets, where Potato and Heesung encounter primarily elderly individuals (chapter 58), such as two older women (chapter 58). Yes, there were two small details, yet full of meaning. Even the landlord (chapter 58) nicknamed “old man” (chapter 59) by Heesung, symbolizes this demographic trend. The hospice’s focus on senior care reflects a broader societal issue in South Korea: a declining birth rate coupled with an increasing elderly population.

These statistics underscore the challenges South Korea faces in balancing an increasing elderly population with a shrinking workforce, impacting economic growth, healthcare systems, and social services. While “Light of Hope” caters to the growing number of seniors, this approach inadvertently reinforces the exodus of younger generations. This migration from the countryside to Seoul or other major cities is subtly reflected in Jinx. Yoon-Gu, for instance, comes from the province of Gangwon-Do, embodying the trend of younger people leaving rural areas in search of opportunities. (chapter 57) In addition, the empty bedroom where Kim Dan is staying—with its untouched guitar, furniture, and books—suggests it once belonged to a teenager who left home and never returned. The unchanged state of the room symbolizes the stagnation and loss felt in these regions, further highlighting the broader societal issues at play. This shows that Jinx is not merely a classic love story; it also paints a nuanced portrait of South Korean society and its challenges. By prioritizing elder care without addressing the needs of the youth, the hospice embodies a false promise of hope—one that may ultimately exacerbate the very demographic crisis it seeks to alleviate. (chapter 57) This observation is further supported by the panel depicting the hospice’s exterior, which highlights its offer of free health checks. This detail suggests that the hospice is actively trying to attract new patients and has the necessary resources to conduct thorough medical examinations. For instance, when one of Kim Dan’s patients fell, the hospice staff were able to examine him properly (chapter 59), indicating their capacity for medical intervention. However, this approach reveals an underlying paradox: while the hospice caters primarily to an aging population, it lacks a sustainable strategy to address the exodus of younger generations, whose departure threatens its long-term viability. This issue is further illustrated by the hospice director’s decision to allow the facility to be used as a location for a movie shoot, (chapter 59) seemingly as an attempt to garner attention and improve its reputation. However, relying on such strategies means any potential benefits will only materialize months later, when the movie is released. This delay highlights the limitations of the hospice’s current approach to sustaining itself. In this context, Joo Jaekyung’s presence could play a pivotal role. It is possible he may become the driving force in revitalizing not only the hospice but also the town itself, potentially pushing the director to transform the hospice into a full-fledged hospital, addressing both immediate and long-term needs of the community. And this would fit his personality, as I connected him to a dragon. Let’s not forget that in season 1, the MMA fighter was introduced as a benefactor who organized a charity event (chapter 41), yet we never got to hear where the money went. This potential transformation underscores the underlying complexities of the hospice’s current operations, as it navigates between providing care for the elderly and responding to broader societal challenges. By situating Jaekyung in this dynamic, the narrative subtly hints at his capacity to influence change, bridging the gap between the hospice’s limitations and the community’s evolving needs.

This stark reality mirrors Kim Dan’s mental and physical state. The trail of blood he left behind (chapter 60) —a consequence of removing his IV needle—symbolizes his quiet surrender and deteriorating health. When Kim Dan arrived at the hospice, he carried the faint hope of finding solace (chapter 56), particularly from his grandmother, who had promised to go to the beach with him. (chapter 53) However, this hope was met with disappointment (chapter 57) – which he never expressed -, reflecting the deceptive promise of the hospice itself. Kim Dan’s fate seems to mirror not only the unnoticed death of the fifth puppy (chapter 59) but also his grandmother’s diminishing expectations of him. (chapter 56) She expressed twice that she no longer needed him. (chapter 57) However, all this time, she had been his motivation and reason to live. Once likened to a puppy, Kim Dan’s vulnerability and struggle for recognition remain central to his story, highlighting the fragility of his existence. His malnutrition, possibly linked to a deficiency in vitamin K and compounded by his alcohol dependency, exacerbates his fragility, making his situation increasingly perilous. Vitamin K, essential for blood clotting and bone health, is derived primarily from leafy green vegetables and produced by gut bacteria. A deficiency can result in symptoms such as dizziness (chapter 57), easy bruising (chapter 13), excessive bleeding and slow wound healing—all of which align with Kim Dan’s deteriorating condition and the trail of blood he left after removing his IV needle. (chapter 60) Is it a coincidence that a company with the green logo K was shown in different panels, like this one? (Chapter 54) Like mentioned before, this logo could be referring to a pharmaceutical company.

The Room and Its Symbolism

The room (chapter 60) where Kim Dan is placed raises significant questions about its purpose within the hospice. The presence of curtains, indicating multiple beds, contrasts with the lack of personal belongings or cupboards (see as a comparison, Shin Okja’s room – episode 59), suggesting a temporary space for patients nearing the end of life. Moreover, observe that the colors of the curtains in the patients’ room is orange (chapter 56) (chapter 56) and not white. This observation aligns with the assumption that this room is reserved for those on the verge of dying, shielding terminally ill patients from witnessing another’s death. 😨

This interpretation becomes clearer when contrasted with the emergency room depicted in the K-drama Love Scout. In the drama, a character searches for his CEO and friend Kang by pulling back closed curtains in an emergency room, discovering different patients behind each one until finding the right person. This reinforces the notion that closed curtains signify the presence of others, even if their identities remain hidden. In addition, when the doctor treated the patient Park Jinchul, the curtains were closed. (chapter 56) (chapter 60) Like in Love Scout, the room in Jinx also has closed curtains, but instead of revealing activity or connection, it implies abandonment and isolation for those behind them. How so? Contrary to the transparent, automatic doors of the emergency room in Love Scout, the door in this scene is closed, manual, and opaque. Such a door symbolizes privacy and secrecy, further emphasizing the room’s association with isolation and death. In addition, the lack of anyone visibly attending to them suggests desertion. Everything is indicating that this space is not dedicated to immediate care and life-saving measures contrary to the emergency room. This contrast emphasizes that the room in Jinx symbolizes abandonment and death rather than rescue. 

But there’s more to it. In Episode 52, the curtains in the health center were removed between two patients (chapter 52) to signify absence of confidentiality, contrasting with the closed-off nature of this space. This comparison not only exposes the manipulation of the staff at the health center, but also reinforces my interpretation that the emergency room at the hospice stands for danger and challenge. This detail underscores Joo Jaekyung’s assumption that he and Kim Dan are alone, but it also raises the possibility that their conversation could have been overheard by someone lying behind the curtains, such as the patient from Episode 57. (chapter 57) or the mysterious Park Jinchul (chapter 56) (chapter 56) If others are indeed present, their isolation hints at a bleak reality: death would occur behind closed curtains, without companions or acknowledgment. This setting forces Joo Jaekyung to confront the fragility of life and the limits of money, as even wealth cannot shield anyone from the inevitability of death. (chapter 60) The room’s atmosphere intensifies this realization, as the symbolism of abandonment permeates its design and the interactions within. Moreover, since many people could see parallels between this scene with the doctor’s situation in the locker room, (chapter 51), they should remember that people were listening to their conversation behind the closed door, but they chose not to intervene. (chapter 53) That’s the reason why I am inclined to think that someone was /is present behind the curtain, but chose to remain silent. However, contrary to Team Black, such a person should intervene, if my theory is correct. And there is another evidence for this hypothesis. Since in episode 60 Joo Jaekyung offers a new contract (chapter 60), it signifies that it is a reflection from chapter 6: (chapter 6) Nevertheless, back then, the deal was made without any witness. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that someone else was present in that room, yet contrary to the past, this person will intervene which stands in opposition to the symbolism of the room: death, secrecy and abandonment. And that can only be a patient who experienced the talent and care from Kim Dan. Joo JAekyung has never met any previous patient from Kim Dan before, but this is what readers got to hear from the nurse: (chapter 56) Only a bedridden person on the verge of dying can express such a gratitude towards the physical therapist.

If this interpretation is correct, the room’s symbolism is intertwined with death rather than rescue, then it conveys a sense of abandonment, as though the staff had already given up on Kim Dan. Furthermore, the decision not to place Kim Dan near his grandmother suggests an effort to keep the incident hidden from her (if she is not in the room), emphasizing the isolation surrounding his condition. On the other hand, the champion’s presence in that room could represent a chance for the athlete as well. This could represent the moment of his “rebirth”. Through a honest but painful conversation, the fighter would be encouraged to judge Kim Dan in a different light and nurture his maternal instincts. Moreover, he could give some comfort to a dying patient, similar to this scene: (chapter 21) which would push him to have a change of heart and show his vulnerability. What can he fear from a dying or terminally ill person? Nothing… hence he can only listen to the confidence and advice from such a patient.

And if my deductions based on observations are true, this signifies that the brochure from Light Of Hope (chapter 53) is indeed an illusion and deception, for the senior on the paper is portrayed as being accompanied by a nurse. The reality is different, for the patients are facing death alone.

Between Lies and Misconceptions

Kim Dan’s interaction with Joo Jaekyung in this room is marked by lies and unspoken truths, which define the fragile dynamic between them. Their conversation begins with Kim Dan’s simple yet loaded question about how Jaekyung discovered his whereabouts. This moment, better captured in the Japanese, and Spanish translations, underscores Kim Dan’s curiosity and underlying desire for clarity. In the Japanese version, Kim Dan asks, “どうしてここがわかったんですか?” (“How did you find out about this place?”), while the Spanish translation reads, “¿Cómo es que usted acabó aquí?” (“How did you end up here?”). Both translations emphasize Kim Dan’s direct inquiry about how Jaekyung discovered his whereabouts, making Jaekyung’s evasive response even more significant. It is clear that he is trying to protect Potato here. However, Jaekyung’s response (chapter 60) immediately sets the tone for their interaction. His refusal to answer and his deliberate avoidance of Kim Dan’s gaze reflect a lie by omission. This evasive behavior not only highlights Jaekyung’s reluctance to reveal his vulnerability but also creates a significant divide between them, making it clear that they are not functioning as a unified team.

Kim Dan’s body language mirrors this emotional disconnection. (chapter 60) Initially, he avoids Jaekyung’s gaze, signaling his own fear and insecurity. This avoidance reveals his worry about rejection and his deeper emotional vulnerability. On the one hand, he hopes deep down that the athlete would admit that he came looking for him, yet their last two interactions were arguments and rejections which the doctor didn’t forget. (chapter 60) Moreover, the idiom “by any chance” is exposing his low self-esteem. His words are exposing his internal struggles: between hope and despair. Later, his subtle act of turning his head away—a gesture often linked to dishonesty—indicates an effort to conceal his true feelings. (chapter 60) He is still in love with Joo Jaekyung, but he is no longer hoping for any attachment and feelings from the fighter. On the other hand, his words are reflecting a different opinion: he is no longer trusting the athlete. This means that when the champion admitted his mistake indirectly, it was already too late. (chapter 60) The damage was done. In addition, he is rejecting the job offer because of the champion’s money. (chapter 60) He doesn’t want this fake generosity, since the athlete is reminding him of his “debts” towards him: (chapter 60) How ironic is that with his last remark, he ruined all his chances with Kim Dan. He was still viewing the physical therapist as someone below him. However, keep in mind that such an arrogance and “confidence” are just subterfuges from the MMA fighter. This act of concealment parallels Jaekyung’s guarded demeanor, as both characters are ensnared in a cycle of avoidance and denial.

Jaekyung, for his part, struggles with acknowledging his dependency on Kim Dan. (chapter 60) This evasive remark suggests that Jaekyung believes keeping Kim Dan ignorant of his intentions is for the best. By withholding the truth, he feels he is protecting himself and Kim Dan from unnecessary burdens or complexities, reinforcing his perception that their relationship is better managed with clear boundaries. However, this attempt at concealment only deepens the divide between them, as it denies Kim Dan the clarity and emotional connection he seeks. In fact, he is not realizing that he is even afflicting more pain on his fated partner.

This dynamic is further emphasized when comparing their positions in Episode 6 and Episode 60. In Episode 6, Kim Dan was standing while Jaekyung sat (chapter 6), reflecting the power imbalance between them. Kim Dan momentarily held the upper hand by negotiating his terms, but once Jaekyung agreed, their positions shifted (chapter 6), with Kim Dan ending up on the floor—a physical manifestation of his subservience. Later, in the locker room, both were shown facing each other (chapter 51), symbolizing a superficial moment of equality. In Episode 60, however, both are seated: (chapter 60) Kim Dan in bed and Jaekyung on a chair. Yet, this apparent parity hides a reversal of dependency. While Kim Dan is physically and mentally weaker, neglecting his own health to leave the bed, (chapter 60) it is Jaekyung who has become emotionally reliant on him. Kim Dan’s stubbornness to push through his fragility mirrors the fighter’s own traits, exposing an ironic role reversal that neither of them fully acknowledges.

Despite his outward confidence, (chapter 60) his refusal to engage truthfully exposes his internal conflict and fear of reliance. But why does he fear so much closeness and dependency? Naturally, Jinx-philes should keep in their mind his terrible childhood where he suffered emotional abuse. Moreover, he had been taken advantage from his previous sex partners. (chapter 42) Despite the appearances, such relationships could only deepen his wounds and reinforce his anxieties. Thirdly, let’s not forget that the athlete read the doctor’s birthday card where the latter expressed the hope to work for him for a long time: (chapter 55) That’s why he imagined that once he made his offer, the other would agree immediately. However, what he failed to realize is that he read the note too late. Besides, there were these erased words which left the fighter in the ignorance. Finally, he continues to misunderstand Kim Dan’s motivations (chapter 60), as he did in episode 6. (chapter 6) Back then, Jaekyung assumed money was the sole driving force behind Kim Dan’s actions, and in the current interaction, he still believes this to be true. His internal monologue reveals this misconception: (chapter 60) I would even add, he believes to know Kim Dan so well, hence he mentions his grandmother: (chapter 60) However, Jaekyung is terribly wrong because he never talked to his lover. His interest and curiosity were quite superficial. Therefore he fails to grasp that Kim Dan’s longing is not for material wealth or familial obligation, but for genuine companionship and a place to call home. Kim Dan’s rejection of a boss-employee dynamic (chapter 60) underscores his desire for a deeper, more meaningful connection—something Jaekyung is unable to see due to his own emotional barriers.

But there is another reason why he got rejected. Fate wanted to punish the athlete for putting his own selfish desires over the doctor’s. He had seen the physical therapist in a dangerous situation (chapter 60). Moreover he got to hear from the doctor that Kim Dan needed rest: (chapter 60). Yet, the first thing he talked about with the doctor was work (chapter 60), once Kim Dan asked him for the reason of his visit: (chapter 60) In other words, with his request, he implied that he had not been longing for Kim Dan’s company. With his attitude, he could only give the impression that he was not interested in the man Kim Dan, rather in the physical therapist, and that’s not what the main lead truly desires. To conclude, his behavior and words generated the impression that the fighter was only superficially interested in him. It was, as if his rescue on the beach had never taken place. He was definitely undermining his own “good deed”.

Their interaction becomes a poignant dance of unspoken fears and withheld truths, illustrating how deeply both characters are entrenched in their insecurities. From the very start, the conversation is undermined by these concealed emotions, dooming it to failure and highlighting the isolation each character feels despite their physical proximity.

Potato’s Role and the Symbolism of Photos

Potato’s involvement adds another layer to the narrative. While the readers can notice the photo of Kim Dan in front of the hospice, they also detect the pictures of the puppies, which were captured later. (chapter 60) These images reveal that Potato visited the old man’s house to bid farewell to the animals. Among the photos, only one shows the fifth puppy—a small, brown one on the left—who appears less active than the others, symbolizing its declining condition. This shows that he was present, when the puppy was showing signs of being sick, but he did nothing. He was too focused on the moment cheering these animals on (chapter 35) for his own “happiness”. Through Potato, the author is criticizing the attitude of fans who are only projecting their own emotions onto their idols. Their wish for happiness is quite rather superficial. This subtle oversight reflects Potato’s growing detachment, as his focus shifted to capturing moments for posterity rather than addressing the realities in front of him. The absence of the fifth puppy becomes a poignant symbol of unnoticed fragility and foreshadows Kim Dan’s own vulnerability. And how did Kim Dan react to the death of the small dog? (chapter 60) He blamed himself.

Additionally, Potato’s farewell request to treat Kim Dan to a meal if he ever returns to Seoul reveals his underlying doubt. (chapter 59) Deep down, Potato does not expect Kim Dan to come back, reflecting his resignation to their fading relationship. Notably, Potato only asked for a picture of Kim Dan at the very end, never taking photos of him during their time together. (chapter 60) This lack of sensitivity and focus on celebrities, flowers, or the puppies instead of his friend underscores the growing emotional distance between them. Interestingly, while Potato returned to the old man’s house to bid farewell to the puppies, he has no intention of returning to the hospice. This contrast highlights how his farewell request serves as an acknowledgment that they are unlikely to meet again. This detachment mirrors Jaekyung and Heesung’s superficial connections, emphasizing how work relationships often overshadow genuine bonds.

Lies, Betrayal, and Ignorance

Potato’s secret visit concerning the puppies and his silence regarding Kim Dan’s whereabouts reveal his growing resemblance to Heesung. (chapter 60) When he got caught with his silence, Mingwa never showed us Potato’s justification. Yet, it becomes clear that the young fighter decided to give the following explanation: he respected Kim Dan’s wish to remain undiscovered (chapter 58) The reason for this interpretation is the champion’s reaction, when he was asked how he knew about his whereabouts (chapter 60) He deliberately avoided revealing that Potato was the one who disclosed Kim Dan’s location, shielding Potato’s role and perhaps attempting to protect the fragile connection they all share. This omission reflects Jaekyung’s misguided belief that ignorance might shield Kim Dan from further pain or complications. However, claiming he respected Kim Dan’s wish to remain undiscovered—was a lie, as his true motivation was Heesung’s request. (chapter 58) Therefore it is not surprising that through this omission, the main couple got affected. The lie from the chow chow had consequences for it increased the gap between the two protagonists. That’s how it dawned on me why Mingwa revealed the photo library of Potato. (chapter 60) The latter would serve as an evidence of his passivity and blindness towards Kim Dan, for the 5th puppy was still alive back then. The latter represents the fate of the doctor’s. These layers of deception highlight how characters like Potato become increasingly absorbed in their own worlds, blinded by their focus on superficial priorities.

This theme of being “too late” is also mirrored in Kim Dan’s experience with the puppy’s fate (chapter 59) and Joo Jaekyung’s rescue of Kim Dan. (chapter 59) In the case of the puppy, Kim Dan arrived too late to save the small animal, reflecting his self-doubt and hesitance to trust his abilities. Conversely, Joo Jaekyung arrived just in time to rescue Kim Dan from the ocean, demonstrating his decisive action. However, his failure to keep Kim Dan in a safe environment afterward suggests a broader inability to provide sustained support, echoing the narrative’s overarching theme of fragility and impermanence. (chapter 60) Though he is the one left behind, he is not realizing that by not following him, he is failing to protect Kim Dan.

The imagery of the fifth puppy serves as a poignant commentary on the consequences of neglect and inaction. The puppy’s decline—evident but unaddressed—parallels Kim Dan’s own struggles. Just as the fifth puppy’s fading presence is overshadowed by the activity of its siblings, (chapter 60) Kim Dan’s vulnerability risks being overlooked amid the chaos of the narrative. The missing puppy becomes a haunting reminder of what happens when fragility is ignored: a slow, quiet decline that ultimately goes unnoticed until it is too late. With too late comes regrets and remorse: (chapter 57) Cheolmin already warned his friend in episode 13: (chapter 13) But the man refused to listen to his advice, and now Kim Dan is leaving a trail of blood on the floor (chapter 60) indicating that his blood is not coagulating correctly. The last comment from the athlete implies that he is now accepting the challenge, he will do anything to have Kim Dan come back to him. Nevertheless, there exists one problem in my opinion: he is running out of time due to Kim Dan‘s physical and emotional deterioration, while he needs time to regain the physical therapist‘s trust.

Conclusion: The Fragility of Hope

The title, “The Deceptive Light of Hope,” encapsulates the essence of these intertwined narratives. The hospice’s name promises healing and solace, yet it masks the harsh reality of end-of-life care. On the other hand, since the couple reunited there, their relationship can be built on better foundations. They are surrounded by people who are definitely more attentive and less passive than at the gym. Moreover, the athlete has been living as a zombie all this time, the latter needs to die in order to be reborn as a human being. But it is the same for Kim Dan who has been living as a ghost for the last one and half month. On the other hand, rebirth is strongly intertwined with suffering, which reinforces my conviction that something bad to Kim Dan will happen. Since a beating heart is the symbol for humanity, it signifies that both will have to open up and confess their feelings. Similarly, the brightly lit hospital room, symbolizing purity, conceals the lies and unspoken truths exchanged between Jaekyung and Kim Dan. Potato’s photographs, seemingly innocent, betray a certain selfishness, ignorance and detachment, symbolized by the missing puppy. Each element contributes to the overarching theme: the fragile and often deceptive nature of hope in a world where appearances rarely align with reality. It is only a matter of time, until the wrongdoers realize their mistakes and apologize properly.

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.

Painter Of The Night: The shadow 👤 behind the shrine ⛩️

Please support the authors by reading the manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night

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Lezhin Korea released a few panels from season 4, thus we could discover that lord Shin got into trouble. He is on the ground, his face bruised and bloody, while he is asking an anonymous man for help. He is mentioning the shrine. As he is wearing the same hanbok, we can definitely assume that this scene takes place during the same night. The irony is that each time Byeonduck offers a new piece of a puzzle, she also creates a new riddle or mystery. How did the young master get wounded in the first place? And who is the person facing lord Shin?

1. The shoes and the weapon

First of all, I would like to point out that this image confirmed my results from my ongoing investigation. The author is using the shoes and clothes to give clues about a person‘s identity. Thus I was definitely right to say that during the abduction in season 2, there were two perpetrators. (Chapter 59) (chapter 66) The size and length of the protections and the cords around the pants were different. Besides, the masks were also different due to the form of the mouth.. (Chapter 61) (chapter 61) Finally, I had also detected his presence next to the barn because of a time jump. First, the manhwaphiles saw Lee Jihwa sitting on the floor, (Chapter 60), then shortly after he was standing at the entrance of the storage room holding a fireplace poker! (chapter 60) His position indicated that the young master had shortly left the building. However, the readers had not witnessed his move, for the author had diverted their attention by exposing the character‘s inner thoughts. He was recollecting the past, while talking to himself. (chapter 60) However, how did the fire poker end up in his own hand? The last time this tool was seen, it was in the kitchen. (chapter 60) As you can see, each image has its importance! However, I doubt that the upset aristocrat had this sudden idea and returned to the kitchen and take the fire iron. His mind and heart were definitely elsewhere, while such an action exposes the intention of hurting someone. Jihwa was acting, as if he was in trance, the moment he saw the hickey and heard the painter’s scream. His long lasting stupor was visible in this image. (chapter 60) That’s the reason why I had developed the theory that someone was hiding in the shadow, next to the barn and observing the evolution of the event. [For more read the essay “No matter what… Baek Na-Kyum must vanish“] For me, it could only be Kim. The latter had put the fire iron in the young man’s hand with the hope that he would strike Baek Na-Kyum. My conclusion was that he was not just involved in the painter’s abduction. However, all these were minor circumstantial evidences. Now, I found more concrete proofs for this hypothesis. Thanks to the new release, I can corroborate my assumption! 😱 The fireplace is the evidence of his involvement during that night! Why would Byeonduck zoom on the furnaces? (chapter 57) It is because they serve as a clue for unveiling the truth. (chapter 60) And now take a closer look at the stove in the storage room! (chapter 62) It is the same furnace! 😨We all assume that the lord prepared the fireplace, because he put his clothes on his lover. But is it true? We were all jumping to this conclusion, but actually we never saw it. Our brain was led to fill the blanks. (chapter 61) Finally, the readers were all assuming that the butler had never entered the storage room due to this image and his action before. (chapter 61) But is it true? He could have opened the door before, and go to the lord in order to explain his intervention. Faking his concerns for the painter. Why would he place the fireplace there? He wished that the warmth from the fire would wake up the painter. Hence he remained close to the gate of the storage room. That way, he had a reason to visit his master. Moreover, the author exposed that the valet had been keeping an eye on his master for a while too. (chapter 62) Because the valet went to his master, we got the impression that the valet had followed his master’s instructions. (chapter 61) In fact, this request could be perceived differently. The lord had seen the butler’s intervention, hence he expressed this wish. From my point of view, the butler must have brought the fireplace to the barn, and he left the poker there on purpose. I am quite certain that some people will think that I am again exaggerating. But why did the butler put a fireplace with a fire iron in the lord’s room, when the coal was not properly lit? (chapter 86) Compare the fire to this one: (chapter 62) But note that in the furnace, there was a fire iron too. (chapter 88) Consequently, I am suspecting that Kim had expected an outburst from Yoon Seungho. The latter could hurt his father with the fire iron. But none of this happened, for the lord preferred playing a comedy.

But let’s return our attention to the fireplace in the storage room. My theory would explain why Kim encouraged his master to go to the barn. (chapter 61) He hoped that Yoon Seungho would become so enraged due to the betrayal that in his violent outburst, he would grab the tool and wound the artist!! Thus he said this the next morning: (chapter 65) He had expected that the lord would hurt the main lead. But how was he supposed to harm Baek Na-Kyum in the end? With the fire iron… This signifies that he had been present in the barn during the abduction, and even knew the place of the sequestration. Thus he took the furnace and the fire iron to the shed.

And now, you have the explanation how lord Shin was wounded. He got beaten with a fire iron! This explicates the cut on his nose. Compare his face to the painter’s who got wounded by wooden sticks. (chapter 99) The painter’s head was bleeding, but his face and nose remained intact. (chapter 99) Besides, this theory also explains why the shrine is set on fire. (chapter 103) The fire iron is connected to a stove. Finally, I would like to outline the absence of the furnace in the shrine, though it was very cold outside. (chapter 99) So when the lord said this to his lover (chapter 88), we could interpret it the following way. It was once again a vision from the future, he was seeing from lord Shin’s perspective the betrayal. To conclude, I am sensing many parallels between the noble’s death and the night of chapter 86/87/88.

But I have another evidence that the butler had been spying on Jihwa and No-Name. How is it possible that Lee Jihwa had such a vision? (chapter 60) (chapter 60) At no moment, he was told that his childhood friend had been brought to the physician’s. He just heard him leaving. Moreover, the joker never mentioned the place where the couple was fooling around. (chapter 60) He didn’t even admit that he had seen them himself. These were memories from someone else! One might assume that these could represent the criminal’s recollection, but I don’t think so. He arrived much later to the physician’s house. If he had been present right from the start, he could have kidnapped Baek Na-Kyum on his way to the restroom. (chapter 59) To conclude, the person with such memories (chapter 62) had been at the doctor’s office before. This stands in opposition to the false memory the red-haired master had in the study. (chapter 43) Here, he had visited the place, hence he could imagine what had happened, though he never saw their encounter according to me. [For more read the essay “The liars in front of the mirror of truth: Lee Jihwa and Yoon Chang-Hyeon”] This explains why he created a false memory. However, in chapter 60, it is simply impossible for him to have such a vision, for he was not there. And in the propriety, only two people could know about their love session, the doctor and naturally the valet. For the latter is constantly seen with the bucket of water, I conclude that this can only be the butler. (chapter 58) He had left the bucket of water in the patio! But note that when the painter left the room, the item had simply vanished. (chapter 59) The painter was not supposed to detect his presence.

2. Identifying the shadows

Since I recognized the presence of a third person involved in the kidnapping from season 2, I come to the deduction that we have in this scene 3 people. And if the release is not changing, and these panels are still framed in black, this signifies that the readers are dealing with remembrance again. So we could say that we are seeing the event from the perpetrator’s perspective. But we will see. On the other hand, why am I so sure about the presence of 3 people? First, don’t forget that the story is going in circle, thus the author is working with reflections. The manhwaphiles will certainly recall that lord Shin had been made unconscious by No-Name, when he had approached Lee Jihwa. (chapter 100) The manhwaworms can grasp the similarities. Back then, the lord had refused to help Baek Na-Kyum, thus he was even encouraging Lee Jihwa to return to the shrine. Hence he had acted as a willing accomplice and perpetrator. Thus his karma is to be denied any assistance, he is punished the same way than his friends, Min and the other nobles. Finally, observe that the red-haired master (chapter 100) was lowering himself in front of No-Name which reminds me a lot to lord Shin’s situation. However, the naïve yangban is not suspecting the person facing him. He has the impression that the latter will listen to him and assist him. Thus I deduce that he was assaulted by someone else, the third person… I am excluding 2 people with the beating, for the noble was not unconscious in contrast to the scene in front of the scholar’s house. Besides, this person was not strong enough to kill the noble and had not tied him up either. (chapter 66) (chapter 99) Lord Shin was still conscious, and he could still run away, until he met this mysterious person. Why do I think so? It is because lord Shin is not suspecting the one standing in front of him. If they were together, he would have recognized the betrayal. From my point of view, he didn’t see them together. And I have another evidence for this interpretation. This picture is a reflection from this one due to the presence of the shadow. (chapter 88) Abandonment and rejection versus embrace and acceptance. And what had Yoon Seungho said during that fateful night? (chapter 88) (chapter 88) But while the painter was exposed to sexual abuse, lord Shin had indeed left his friend’s side. In my eyes, lord Shin embodies treason. As you can see, I conclude that lord Shin is about to get assassinated and from the person he expected the least. Why? It is because no one has to realize that lord Shin ran away from the shaman’s shrine. (chapter 102) He was a survivor. The opposite from this scene. They faked the painter’s desertion, (chapter 60) hence in episode 102 they had to mask his escape, for this would have exposed the involvement of other people, like Lee Jihwa, the doctor with the drugs and Heena. And now, you have the explanation why the shadow hidden behind the tree had put mattresses on the soil. The desertion and survival from lord Shin should not be detected. But who is this person facing the weak lord? And who is the third person who hit the young man? First, I would like to answer the second question.

3. Identifying the helping hand

We have to suspect a rather frail person who can be reckless and even stupid. As you can envision it, I am now suspecting the kisaeng Heena. Not only her philosophy allows her to be blinded by hatred, but also she witnessed herself her brother’s terrible condition. (chapter 99) Secondly, the moment she hears from someone that she got betrayed, for her brother died, she could definitely resent Min and his friends. But one might argue that she was killed by the two guards, or if she is alive, she was held captive by them. However, it is important to recall the following rules: the clothes and shoes are revealing the character’s identity. Both men are not wearing robes. Besides, they are not wearing black shoes like the other black guards! Yet, note all the black guards from chapter 7, 64/65 and 86 were wearing black shoes (chapter 7), (chapter 65) or boots (chapter 86), a sign for a high position. They even had all a sword. Why would the guards from chapter 99 use a wooden stick? In my eyes, it is because they are no real black guards. Besides, I detected that one man had a scarf similar to the butler’s, from lower quality. Thus I am suspecting that these two men are more servants than trained black guards. In other words, they are commoners. This would explicate why they didn’t know how to tie Heena properly. Her mouth was not covered, her feet were not tied. Thus they covered their face. That way, Baek Na-Kyum wouldn’t recognize them. And if he were to survive, then he could blame it on Yoon Chang-Hyeon, as their uniform was similar. During the assault, he couldn’t pay attention to such details and question their true origins. Besides, don’t forget that so far, the beating was tasked to the staff: (chapter 13) (chapter 77) As you can see, the wooden stocks were present during the first straw mat beating.

Under this new light, the manhwalovers can grasp why their face was masked. If they had to be identified, then by the clothes… that way they could mislead the investigation and frame innocents. We could detect their involvement in this scene, (chapter 101), but here Min thought that he was capable to frame the Lees. The other evidence for this interpretation is the presence of two servants during the main lead’s hunt, while he was wearing the suspicious boots. (chapter 83) As you can detect, I see a strong connection between the new panel and the hunt from chapter 83. And here we have 3 people again.

But let’s return our attention to the kisaeng who I am suspecting to be behind the noble’s wounds. What caught my attention is that the woman has always been involved in kidnapping and immobility (being tied up). She was present, when the lord was dragged and tied up. (chapter 68) She was again a witness, when her brother was tied up in the bedchamber. (chapter 66) Finally, when her brother was on the verge of getting abducted, she saw him lying unconscious with a bloody face. However, she never considered it as an abduction, for his hands and feet were not tied up. (chapter 99) That’s the reason why she blamed him with her questions. She implied that he shouldn’t have fought back. As you can see, I detect a common thread between Heena and her presence in different scenes: sequestration and a bloody face. But this doesn’t end here. When the young painter got beaten in the gibang, there was a furnace on the left side. (chapter 94) For me, this incident was to push the painter to leave the gibang and as such to listen to Heena’s suggestion. Furthermore, the man on the left side was wearing a white headband, though he was dressed like a noble in a hunting outfit! The hair dress and his moustache [for more read the analysis “Painful departures”] led me to the following assumption: He was just a commoner in the end, impersonating a noble.

The other clue for Heena’s involvement in lord Shin’s demise is her presence in chapter 88. (chapter 88) She was supposed to discover a crime scene. But what did she do? She didn’t report it to the authorities. Why? It is because the schemers implied that she would never get justice. As a kisaeng, she was totally powerless.

Thus the moment someone tells her that her brother died by the hands of nobles, the young woman’s hatred for yangbans can only increase. At the end of season 3, Yoon Seungho and even the shadow behind the shrine believed that the painter had died too. Consequently, the painter was just given a purple hanbok, and the main lead went to the mountain. Since the protagonist was under such a shock and pain, he never pondered why there was a person helping him. He was behaving like Lee Jihwa during the night of the abduction, the hanbok was put in his hand. The sword, the scholar’s glasses and even the painter’s clothes vanished from the shrine. (chapter 102) This is the evidence that someone had manipulated the crime scene. The clothes from the painter could serve as evidence of her brother’s curtains. Heena could come to the conclusion that Min had gone back on his words, and her fake death, which had definitely shocked (chapter 99) and bothered her, could only be perceived as real at the end. But this means that while Yoon Seungho had murdered the nobles, there was someone hiding in the shadow , exactly like in season 2. He had not stopped the execution either. He could have faked his late arrival and the shocked lord would have even believed him. This time, the man in the shadow had covered the bloody traces and had thought that the noble outside had died from cold. (chapter 61) And according to me (chapter 61) the second Joker (Kim) had tried to murder the painter, but he had failed, for he had covered the painter’s head. (chapter 66) However, his new attempt to have the painter vanished failed again.

4. The “trustworthy” disguised man

What caught my attention are the pants. The form and color remind me a lot of the painter’s. (chapter 97) It could be the same, though I have my doubts. Secondly, I suddenly got aware that the painter had 3 different grey pants at least. (chapter 4) This one had a cut just below the knees, though the color is much brighter. (chapter 84) This is the third one I detected, as the shape of the pants diverge once again. This explicates why Baek Na-Kyum chose to change his clothes before leaving the mansion. (chapter 85) And because his pants are very similar to the painter’s, I deduce that he must be close to Baek Na-Kyum or at least he has a spy informing him about the artist’s clothes. Compare his pants to other servants: (chapter 97) (chapter 61) (chapter 67) (chapter 67) Their pants have either a different pigment (white, black, khaki, or light grey) or the shape is different. That’s the reason why I am assuming that the person was wearing these trousers on purpose. A new version of this scene: (chapter 98) The only difference is that the disguised person is alive contrary to the corpses in the wells. But the problem is that the shoes are betraying him. The boots resemble a lot to Yoon Seungho’s which the latter utilized during the hunt. (chapter 83) What did the lord see back then? Three shadows, two men wearing a gat and one caught in the middle with a topknot. Since I consider Yoon Seungho as a shaman, I believe that this vision was not only referring to the past and the incident in the shrine. It exposes the immutable truth, the involvement of three people, either. This is no coincidence. Thus imagine one moment that this illusion was referring to lord Shin’s murder. He is about to get murdered because of a new conspiracy. From my point of view, the man is disguising himself. However, I doubt that he is wearing the lord’s boots. The latter could be “couple boots”, just like the lord and the painter had couple hats. (chapter 91) And note during that day, Baek Na-Kyum was called sir due to his hat and clothes. (chapter 91) However, if the woman had paid attention to his shoes (mituri), she would have realized that our beloved painter is just a low-born. One might think that I view Kim as the one facing lord Shin. Strangely, I am suspecting the involvement of someone else. One thing is sure. The person in front of lord Shin is disguising himself, and the latter trusted the man in front of him. But his misfortune was not to identify correctly the person, for he didn’t detect the contrast between the clothes and the shoes. And the author left us another clue that disguise plays a huge role in our protagonists’ suffering. Why is Kim wearing a gat with a headband for nobles, when he is dressed like a servant? But there is another detail what caught my attention. He is wearing a bag. It was, as if he had packed his belongings before leaving the mansion. This means, he is taking his brown hanbok, but he is not wearing it. He reminded me of Deok-Jae. (chapter 44) (chapter 54) But the readers should question themselves this: why did Kim dress like this in the first place? From my point of view, the schemers have already planned to frame Baek Na-Kyum for the murder of the nobles and even of Jung In-Hun. Kim is trying to separate the couple so that the artist can be arrested easily and sentenced immediately. By burning the place, the evidence that Baek Na-Kyum was a victim vanished. That’s how they can manage to turn a victim into a perpetrator. They wanted to erase every trace of the crimes, but then the return of the painter will force them to change their plan. The fire can help them to turn Baek Na-Kyum into a scapegoat. That’s the reason why the anonymous shadow is wearing clothes similar to the painter’s. No one should recognize him. Later, Baek Na-Kyum can be “identified” as the culprit. And any blood trace on his clothes could serve to incriminate the painter. They could use the resemblance of the clothes as a proof for his crime. That’s the reason why lord Shin had to die in the end. And if lord Shin never doubted this person, I am suspecting that the latter is working with the authorities. Kim is not the only suspect, for according to me, there always exist a conspiracy of 3 and even 5 people. This observation leads me to create a list of suspects. First of all, Yoon Seungho’s confession to the learned sir should help us to determine the schemers and culprits. (chapter 44). A synonym for old bearded men is “elders”. The latter are supposed to serve as role models. That’s the reason why the young man didn’t suspect the man. With his beard, he must have oozed “responsibility” and even “selflessness”. But who are the suspects?

  • The officer from the bureau investigation is definitely involved. Thus he misled Yoon Seungho. Besides, observe that the officers are connected to fire! (chapter 94) Secondly, his explanation implied the involvement of a physician. (chapter 98) Though he had been found in a well, the lord’s comment insinuates that “Deok-Jae” had been stabbed. Striking is that the lord didn’t show any interest in the violation of clothes and the servant’s death. This reaction surprised the yangban which left him speechless. It is important, because this shows that the schemers were trying to direct the lord’s attention to a certain person: Lee Jihwa. They were trying to instill the thought that Lee Jihwa had planted a professional spy in his household. And after his betrayal, Deok-Jae had run away with the money earned from his work.
  • The physician: What caught my attention is that the author focused on the fire place at his office. (chapter 57) Why? There has to be a reason. I don’t believe in coincidence in Painter Of The Night. Furthermore, observe that both men, Kim and the doctor, were sitting in the kitchen, similar to Jihwa and No-Name. (chapter 57) Finally, the painter met the Joker again on the same day he visited the physician. (chapter 75) Finally, why was the doctor never brought to the mansion again after his last visit in chapter 57? And it looks like he was not there to treat Baek Na-Kyum. The latter is suffering from PTSD. Thus the painter had a nightmare. Hence I have the impression that the butler’s intervention and suggestion to Yoon Seungho will fail. The lord won’t be able to leave his side. Moreover, I would like the readers to recall that when Baek Na-Kyum got sick, a different physician was fetched. (chapter 33) Different clothes displays a different identity. From my point of view, the doctor doesn‘t want to be connected to Yoon Seungho. Finally, don‘t you find it weird that he was not by his side in chapter 57? He literally abandoned the young master in the room with the painter (chapter 57), though the latter was a patient too. He had a wounded wrist. The physician should have controlled Yoon Seungho’s fever, brought him water and even an infusion. His absence and passivity caught my attention. So what was he doing in the kitchen? Finally, the doctor is also connected to the shaman. Not only he mentioned him, but also there is the symbol of shamanism in his kitchen. Why did the gods want our couple to have their first “true” love session at the physician’s office? Somehow, it was to confront him with the truth. Finally, don’t you find it weird how Kim reacted (chapter 82), when the new version of Deok-Jae made the following suggestion to Kim: (chapter 82) Hence the doctor is not off the hook, quite the opposite.
  • Father Lee: he has a huge motivation to eliminate not only the painter, but also Min. The latter had denunciated Lee Jihwa’s crime to Yoon Seungho. Since I judge father Lee as someone suffering from Machiavellianism, he certainly plotted something behind Yoon Seungho, and not only once, but at least twice. Moreover, someone could have divulged to the patriarch that Black Heart had been responsible for the loss of his son’s topknot and his manipulations. Besides, Black Heart had witnessed the altercation between the Lees and Yoon Seungho (chapter 67), and discovered Lee Jihwa’s sodomy which was supposed to be a secret. The father is well aware that the main lead’s suffering is linked to the young master’s sexual orientation, which the father had always denied. His involvement could be detected, when he allowed one of his servants to be dragged to the gibang. (chapter 99) Finally, The Joker also heard father Lee’s humiliation and powerlessness. (chapter 67) He never asked for the authorities’ assistance, for his son’s crime could have come to the surface. And since there was a ruckus in the gibang, where his name was mentioned, he had another reason to kill lord Shin. With his disappearance, his son’s “crimes” would be buried. Moreover, his son never went to the bureau of investigation to clear his name. (chapter 101) Thus the fire could be seen as a desperate measure to cover the Lees’ culpability.
  • Because people are violating code dress, and they are wearing similar clothes to deceive people, I think that we should include the tailor in the list of suspects, but the one I am referring to is the one from chapter 64. (chapter 64) He can play a huge role by making a false testimony, as he can recognize the clothes ordered by the clients.
  • Finally, I would like to include these two men. (chapter 37) The latter had already disguised himself in season 1, and due to his age, no one would suspect his real nature or power. Then we have this faceless man from chapter 83: (chapter 83) I am not including Yoon Chang-Hyeon in this list, for he is not intelligent and cunning enough to develop such a plan. For me, he is just a pawn. Thus he never intervened on his own. He was always pushed by others’ suggestions. Yet, there is no ambiguity that the elder Yoon will be involved in a new plot.

To conclude, I am suspecting many people involved in lord Shin’s struggle and curtains. Thus expect in season 4 new plots again. Finally, I would like to underline the butler’s hypocrisy one more time. While he keeps saying to his master that he is a bird of misfortune, why is he remaining by his side? Dedication or love? I have my doubt, for he keeps badmouthing him. If this “curse” was true, how come that he did not suffer like the painter? And note that he has a drop of sweat on his face, the symbol for manipulations and lies. In my eyes, the words from the publication are reflecting the butler and Heena’s philosophy. Why? Both are trying to hide their own wrongdoings and bad choices. They are still in denial to admit their responsibility.

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.

Painter Of The Night: Summary of a love story 💖😍🌹

This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night/ 

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

Though the talk of marriage started in season 2, the author revealed that Yoon Seungho was not thinking about marriage in season 3 yet. It was too early, as Baek Na-Kyum was still viewed as a boy. Moreover, according to social norms, it was impossible, for his lover is a man. Then in front of Yoon Chang-Hyeon, he made fun of his father. (chapter 87) That’s the reason why I consider the love session in chapter 88 more like a relationship between a sponsor and an artist.

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.