Jinx: The Missed Party 🥳🎉

People might have been wondering why I haven’t published anything after the release of episode 78. My silence is linked to my health. I was sick exactly like Joo Jaekyung. I had to remain in bed for a while. But enough about me.

When Doc Dan returned to Team Black, the fighters were so overjoyed that they immediately proposed to celebrate his comeback with a party. (chapter 78) Their noisy excitement — hugs, wishes, smiles, jokes, even talk of meat — gave the impression of a long-awaited reunion. Yet the suggestion was cut short by Jaekyung, who rejected it like this: (chapter 78) In other words, a party was “missed.” At first glance, this might appear to be an exception, a rare moment of denial in a story otherwise filled with shared rituals. Readers might recall the welcome party (chapter 9) in episode 9, the champion’s birthday dinner (chapter 43) in episode 43, the talk of hospital get-togethers (chapter 61), or the festive tone of fighters after director Choi Gilseok’s victory (chapter 52).

But the closer one looks, the clearer the pattern becomes. The missed party is not an isolated accident; it is the rhythm of Jinx itself. Whenever celebration hovers near — a victory, a birthday, a reunion, even a funeral — someone is not present. In addition, the celebration arrives too early, too late, in the wrong place, or in the wrong form. Jaekyung wins titles, but the gym shares the glory while he remains uncelebrated. (chapter 41) Why did they not organize a party in Seoul to celebrate his victory in the States? Dan devotes himself to work, but his departures are marked by silence (chapter 53) rather than farewell. (chapter 1) The few rituals that do occur — a premature birthday cake, a noisy hug, puppies chasing after a car — (chapter 78) always miss their mark, either hollow in substance or unseen by the very people who should be honored.

The title The Missed Party therefore names more than one canceled occasion. It captures the way the two protagonists move through a world where rituals of belonging are constantly distorted or denied. And in a culture where such celebrations carry deep social weight, the absence is all the more striking. The missed party becomes the haunting motif of their lives: recognition always promised, but never truly given.

The Meaning of Parties in Korea

In Korean culture, parties and team dinners (hoesik) hold a strong ritual function: they create bonds, display hierarchy, and confirm belonging within a group. Farewells, birthdays, and victories are all expected occasions for collective recognition. Yet in Jinx, these moments of celebration are strangely absent or hollow. When Jaekyung wins, his fee doubles, but no feast marks his achievement. Instead, the manager presents the “wolf” as his “trophy”. To conclude, others share in the reflected glory while the champion himself remains excluded, a fighter without a banquet. (Chapter 41) And this absence of recognition and respect is mirrored in the physical therapist’s position. He is not surrounded by the fighters and included by the manager. He is standing on the sideline. It was, as though his good work was not recognized . (Chapter 43) Even the “dragon’s” birthday, supposedly a day of personal celebration, is reduced to an awkward dinner at his expense, with a cake arriving a day too early (chapter 43) or gifts from sponsors and fans he never wanted. (Chapter 41) In Germany, it is considered as a bad omen to celebrate a birthday too soon. Rituals that should affirm intimacy instead expose distance and lack of respect.

A striking contrast appears in chapter 52, when the fighters from King of MMA (chapter 52) gather at the very restaurant used for Jaekyung’s birthday. This time the feast is paid for not by him, but by Choi Gilseok — the rival director who had just won money betting against Jaekyung. The excuse for the banquet is twofold: the humiliation of the champion’s tie and the arrival of new members. Yet the sponsor of the event is absent, his presence felt only through the bill he covers. Unlike the wolf, whose victories go unmarked, Choi Gilseok uses food and drink to project power and buy loyalty. Yet, this celebration with the absent director displays not only hypocrisy, but also resent and jealousy due to the selection of the location. The cruel irony is that Jaekyung’s fall is more celebrated than his rise. (Chapter 52)

This cultural backdrop makes the silences and absences in the Korean Manhwa all the more striking. Parties are repeatedly mentioned but rarely materialize, and when they do, they are strangely hollow. In chapter 61, for instance, a nurse suggests inviting the star to their next hospital get-together. (Chapter 61) The excitement is palpable — “loyalty” and celebrity sparkle in their eyes — but what stands out is the way Dan is erased in the process. They do not invite him; they want access to the famous fighter through him. His role is reduced to a conduit, the man who happens to be “close with Mr. Joo.” The irony is brutal: after two months of work in the hospice, Dan has never once been shown attending such gatherings himself. His own belonging is not on the table. He is used as a bridge to someone else’s fame, while his own exhaustion and lowered gaze silently testify to his exclusion.

But wait — is Dan not also responsible for his isolation? At no moment does he try to be close to them. He avoids their chatter, keeps his distance, and carries himself like someone already half absent. Chapter 56 seems to confirm this impression: even approached by one of the nurses, doc Dan uses work to avoid their company. (chapter 56) However, this is just an illusion. What caught my attention is that the nurses wondered themselves why such a skilled therapist would come to a small-town hospital. (chapter 56) They speak about him, as though he had no reason to stay there, as if he were a stranger passing through. Right from the beginning, he was treated unconsciously as temporary, someone whose presence required explanation rather than welcome. Finally, no party was held for him, no ritual of inclusion was offered. His distance and their detachment mirrored each other, producing the silence that would later define his departure. (chapter 78)

The paradox becomes even clearer when we turn to the star himself. Despite his status as champion, he never receives a proper victory celebration. After each match, we never see a celebration. (chapter 5) It ends either in the car or in the locker room. (chapter 15) The high peak of his celebrated victories takes place at the gym where Park Namwook gather the fighters in front of the Emperor congratulating himself for his “good work” and the spectators for belonging to a winning team. (chapter 41) Yet no feast is held for Jaekyung, no toast to his perseverance. The two men at the center of the achievement are left without ritual acknowledgment, while the institution absorbs the honor. They remain a wolf and a hamster without a feast — fighting, winning, but never celebrated for who they are. And now, you understand why the manager could make such a suggestion at the hospital: (chapter 53) For him, the physical therapists were just tools and as such replaceable.

Even Jaekyung’s birthday party in chapter 43 reveals this paradox. (chapter 43) A birthday, especially in Korea, is typically a family-centered celebration, held at home or among close friends. Yet Jaekyung’s “party” takes place in a restaurant, under Yosep’s casual announcement that they would be having a “dinner party.” (chapter 43) The phrasing itself is odd, almost bureaucratic, as though the event were an obligation rather than a gift. Jaekyung himself had to pay the bill, reversing the usual logic of being celebrated. They even started eating before which is actually a huge violation of social norms. The cake appeared the day before his real birthday, an empty gesture more about timing than sincerity. And while fans and sponsors showered him with gifts throughout the month, Jaekyung revealed that he didn’t want any of them. The ritual forms were there — cake, dinner, presents — but the meaning was absent.

But there is another telling absence: Dan himself was left in the dark about the “surprise.” (chapter 43) The fighters never included him in the planning, as if they feared he might leak the secret. In reality, this exclusion only repeated his deeper past: once again, he was not considered part of the group’s inner circle. Had he been told, he might have brought the card and the gift of his own, softening the sting of Jaekyung’s reaction. (chapter 45) By keeping Dan in the dark about the “surprise,” the fighters created another problem. Their silence pushed him to offer his own present on the same day as the gifts from sponsors and fans — exactly the kind of attention Jaekyung resented. He had already said he did not want those presents, and now Dan’s sincere gesture was placed in the same category, indistinguishable from the flood of unwanted offerings. What could have been a private, meaningful moment was absorbed into the hollow ritual of the group. Hence the champion never got to read his card! (chapter 43) In trying to celebrate, the team only ensured that both Jaekyung and Dan felt more isolated than ever. Instead, his silence reinforced the impression that he was peripheral. Unconsciously, Team Black treated him not as one of their own, but as an outsider to be managed. And even within the celebration, another absence was visible: Potato was missing, and no one seemed to notice. (chapter 43) The party did not affirm Jaekyung’s existence, nor Dan’s place beside him. It only reinforced their shared isolation, hidden under the noise of clapping and cheers.

Thus, Jinx presents us with a paradox: in a culture where parties are essential rituals of belonging, both Dan and Jaekyung remain excluded. They are surrounded by the signs of festivity, but the substance is always missing. Their lives are structured not by recognition but by its absence, not by celebration but by silence.

Dan’s Missed Parties

If the star’s parties are hollow, Dan’s are almost nonexistent. The only party where we see him smiling is his birthday, when he was a little boy. (Chapter 11) One might think, this celebration embodies a perfect birthday party. However, observe the absence of friends. It took place during the night too, a sign that his birthday was not celebrated properly. Everything implies his social exclusion. This made me wonder if this memory represents the only birthday party he ever had with Shin Okja. His life is a sequence of departures without ritual, absences without acknowledgment. Each time he leaves a place of work or community, he slips out like a ghost, denied the closure that parties are meant to provide.

At the hospital in Seoul, where he endured the predatory advances of the director, his dismissal was brutal and final. (Chapter 1) He was not only fired but blacklisted, erased from his profession’s networks. No farewell dinner was organized, no colleagues thanked him for his work, no one marked his departure. (Chapter 1) His stay had been so brief as well. Besides, his absence was engineered to be total, as though he had never existed. The very ritual that should have affirmed his contributions instead became a ritual of erasure.

At the gym, the pattern repeated itself. The spray incident turned him first into a scapegoat. Park Namwook yelled, the fighters remained passive, and even Jaekyung rejected his presence. In the space of a few minutes, Dan was ostracized, his innocence ignored. (Chapter 50) Then later the athlete questioned the physical therapist’s actions and told him this (chapter 51) out of fear and pain, the physical therapist thought, he was fired. Once again, he left in silence, unacknowledged. No one stood up for him, no one tried to reintegrate him, no farewell was offered. (Chapter 53) And keep in mind that according to me, in this scene, the manager already knew the truth. So he had a reason to dismiss a farewell party. The absence of ritual here was particularly cruel: Dan had given his skills and energy to the fighters, but his exit marked him only as disposable.

The hospice, where he briefly found genuine warmth, provided no closure either. When he left for Seoul, the staff were shocked, even saddened — but his departure was so sudden that no send-off was possible. (Chapter 78) Their affection was genuine, but the ritual was missing. Dan slipped away in silence, just as he had at the hospital and the gym. In the panel, what caught my attention is the reaction of the director. He is crying while keeping his distance, a sign that he is the one the most affected by doc Dan’s departure. For me, the author is alluding to the director’s regrets. If only he had treated doc Dan better… only too late, he had recognized that he had become accustomed to his presence. Doc Dan had always been a silent but active listener.

This absence of farewell may stretch back to his earliest traumas. If his parents truly died by suicide, it is possible that Dan never attended their funeral. Poverty, shame, and debt may have erased even that ceremony, leaving him with no closure for the loss of his own family. We can use Joo Jaewoong’s funeral as a source of inspiration. (chapter 74) The silence of his grandmother on this point suggests that even the most basic ritual of mourning was denied him.

The pattern becomes symbolic in the death of the puppy. (Chapter 59) Only Dan and the landlord marked the event with a quiet burial. Since no one knew about it, it left the ritual incomplete. For Dan, the small act was meaningful, but its invisibility to the larger community echoed his own life: recognition always hidden, always partial, never public.

Even in moments that looked like parties, Dan was left on the margins. Jaekyung’s birthday party, with its cake and noisy cheer, contained an intimate truth: Jaekyung’s sudden, raw confession, (chapter 43) This was the real heart of the evening, the only moment where ritual turned into intimacy. And yet even this was missed by Potato, who was absent at that crucial moment, lingering elsewhere with Heesung. The party’s form was there, but its essence — the recognition of Jaekyung’s loneliness and Dan’s importance — was overlooked by the two men at its center due to the presence of alcohol.

Thus, Dan’s life is a chain of missed parties. At the hospital, the gym, the hospice, even at funerals, he departs without recognition. And when celebrations do occur, the essential truth is missed — noticed only by those who are absent, while those present look away.

The Puppies’ Party

Nowhere is the irony sharper than in chapter 78, when the puppies run after the departing car. (Chapter 78) To them, departure is not tragedy but play, a noisy farewell parade. Their barking and chasing become a spontaneous party, a joyous ritual of attachment. (Chapter 78) It is pure, instinctive, and alive. And yet, neither Jaekyung nor Dan sees it. Shut in the car, burdened by urgency, contracts, and exhaustion, they miss the little parade given in their honor.

The contrast is devastating. Humans, with their expectations of formal ritual, repeatedly fail to mark Dan’s contributions. They miss every opportunity to acknowledge him. But the animals, in their innocence, succeed where people fail: they celebrate simply because they care. The puppies recognize bonds better than the humans who claim to love him.

What makes this little parade even more striking is that the puppies do not separate between wolf and hamster. Their joy is directed at both men together, at the bond symbolized by the car’s departure. (Chapter 78) In this sense, the puppies achieve what the humans cannot: they recognize attachment without division, gratitude without debt. Their farewell is not tied to work, contracts, or hierarchy, but to presence itself. (Chapter 78) By running after the car, they express loyalty and responsibility, acknowledging the care they have received. It is the only party in Jinx that includes both protagonists as they are — not as worker and champion, not as scapegoat and boss, but as a pair worth celebrating. Finally, they have no idea that the couple plans to return soon, as they have no notion of time. (Chapter 78) Striking is that here, doc Dan is making a promise to Boksoon and her puppies, but the latter have no idea. Therefore imagine this. On the weekend, the moment the car approaches the landlord’s house, the puppies will recognize them and celebrate their return! And this time, both characters will witness this welcome party: (chapter 78) How can doc Dan not be moved and even smile? Why did the champion reject the landlord’s suggestion (taking a puppy)? He had no time… Having a puppy will not just force him to slow down and take his time, but also attract real and genuine attention from the members of Team Black. (Chapter 78) The animals would even change Joo Jaekyung’s behavior and the fighters’ perception of their hyung. (chapter 78)

The Illusory Reset

When Dan returns to the gym, the fighters smother him with hugs and noisy affection. They beg him not to leave again, propose a welcome party, and act as if everything is back to normal. (Chapter 78) But this “reset” is an illusion. Dan is only contracted for two matches. Interesting is that no one is capable of perceiving the truth, as the main lead’s explanation is ambiguous. (Chapter 78) He doesn’t limit the number of matches, only that he will focus on the “wolf”. So for them, his return is not limited in time. Nevertheless, his paleness and dark circles speak louder than their words: he is exhausted, fragile, still haunted.

The fighters, however, do not see his state. (Chapter 78) They are more worried about another possible departure than about his condition, as though his leaving again would be a greater tragedy than his ongoing suffering. This exposes that the members are not totally oblivious and their reunion is not a repetition of the past. On the other hand, warm words and a noisy welcome are enough for them. They take his generosity for granted, just as they always have. Therefore they ask for his magic hands. (Chapter 78) Their celebration is shallow, a ritual meant to restore their own comfort rather than acknowledge his reality.

Here, the cultural weight of parties in Korea sharpens the irony. Gatherings are strongly intertwined with alcohol (chapter 9), and abstaining from drink often means being excluded from group belonging. Yet Dan, on medication, cannot drink. His doctor’s recommendation makes it impossible for him to participate in such “public” rituals. Even the customary sharing of a huge bowl — a symbol of intimacy and unity — must be avoided. For Jaekyung, who once used alcohol to dull his own struggles, (chapter 54) this becomes another reason to refuse such parties: they risk exposing Dan to temptation and harm. Park Namwook, knowing Jaekyung’s history of drinking, has no interest in promoting such events either. (Chapter 78) Hence the latter has no interest to organize a welcome party and even maintain the ritual with the bowl!! What might appear to others as grumpiness or stinginess is in fact a form of protection.

In contrast, Potato embodies another response. (Chapter 78) Having missed Dan most deeply during his absence, he now wishes to spend as much time as possible with his hyung. His longing shows that no party with Heesung and the landlord — no noisy drinking night — (chapter 58) could fill the hole left by Dan’s departure. But his form of attachment is still caught in the ritual of surface-level affection. What Potato craves is real closeness, hence he keeps hugging the physical therapist, (chapter 78) but what he proposes are the same shallow gestures that miss the truth of Dan’s fragility. The chow chow’s words — “Nothing beats seeing you at the gym” — unintentionally reveal this dependence. On the surface, it is a casual expression of joy and longing. Yet beneath it lies another truth: if the hamster were to leave Team Black for good, the gym would eventually lose all its members. From the start of the story, Dan has embodied teamwork. He is the glue that holds the fighters together, not by authority or charisma, but by care. Without him, unity dissolves into rivalry and noise. The irony is that the fighters sense this truth but cannot articulate it. They attempt to celebrate his return with hugs and the promise of a party, as if rituals could substitute for recognition. In reality, what they crave is not the feast but the fragile cohesion that Dan alone brings.

Striking is that Jaekyung’s refusal of the welcome party is linked to his position as director of the gym. It marks a turning point. Indirectly, he rejects the idea by redirecting the fighters’ attention. He points out their indifference toward him. For the first time, the athlete is voicing his dislike openly, he felt excluded. Due to this combination, the athlete doesn’t realize that he rejected the party, as if he refused to participate in hollow rituals that only disguise exhaustion and perpetuate harm. (Chapter 78) It becomes clear that for the athlete, such parties built on illusion can only harm Dan further. To conclude, thanks to his intervention, he protected the hamster from rituals that mistake noise for acceptance and even care. (chapter 9)

Park Namwook’s position within Team Black also sheds light on the dynamic of missed parties. In earlier chapters, he was the one who orchestrated gatherings (chapter 26), or allowed whether welcome parties or surprise celebrations or pre-match meals (chapter 22). These events were never about genuine recognition but about maintaining power and appearances, boosting morale, or reminding the fighters of their dependence on the team structure he managed. The “surprise” birthday party in chapter 43 bore his fingerprints, (chapter 43) yet he stayed conspicuously absent when the cake was presented, only appearing later at the restaurant. (chapter 43) This absence is revealing: Namwook preferred to avoid direct conflict with Jaekyung’s visible displeasure, leaving the awkward burden of paying and performing to the champion himself to Yosep. In other words, his parties were tools of control, not gifts of belonging. By chapter 78, however, the balance has shifted. (chapter 78) Standing in the back, Namwook watches as Dan returns and is embraced by the fighters. He notices a “different vibe” between the two leads, but fails to grasp what it means. Doc Dan is actually free and has the upper hand in their relationship. Hence he can no longer ask this from doc Dan: (chapter 36) Doc Dan should put up with everything. What he cannot admit is that Dan is no longer replaceable. (chapter 78) Once erased, the therapist now belongs; once central, the manager is now the outsider. Namwook is pushed into the very silence he once imposed on others. The irony is sharpened when Jaekyung openly asserts his authority: (chapter 78) With that, the wolf reclaims his rightful place. In other words, by respecting the hamster, the protagonist is learning to protect his own dignity and interests. (chapter 78) Namwook’s illusion of control dissolves, his “decisions” and rituals losing their force. Even the proposed welcome party collapses in an instant when Jaekyung refuses, proving that Namwook no longer directs the rhythm of the team. The missed party is thus his own as well: the final chance to assert authority through ritual slips away before his eyes, leaving him stranded on the margins of the very world he once managed. And in this reversal lies a striking symmetry: the silence that once excluded Dan now excludes Namwook, completing a cycle of poetic justice. What Dan endured in season one (chapter 41), sidelined and voiceless, is now mirrored in the manager’s quiet erasure.

If Dan’s health were to worsen, the most striking reversal might occur: a match could be cancelled not because of the champion, but because of his therapist. Such a possibility would mark a profound shift in the logic of Team Black. In season one, Jaekyung fought regardless of his condition; his insomnia, shoulder injury, foot injury and depression were ignored, never reasons to stop the machine. Dan was expected to keep patching him up in silence while the show went on. But if a fight were cancelled due to Dan’s weakness, it would confirm his irreplaceable place in the system. The team’s future would depend not only on the fists of the champion but on the presence of the man who heals him. For the wolf, this would be more than logistics: it would be a choice of care over profit, proof that he has reclaimed his authority to protect rather than exploit. And for Namwook, such a cancellation would represent his ultimate defeat. A missed party of the grandest kind — a fight night erased from the calendar — would signal the collapse of his management logic. (chapter 69) Yet unlike all the hollow celebrations that came before, this missed event would finally have meaning. It would not be absence through neglect, but absence as recognition: proof that Dan’s life matters more than ritual, profit, or performance.

The Real Parties They Missed

If there was ever a “real” party in Dan’s life, it was the small gathering by the seaside with Heesung, the landlord, and Potato. (chapter 58) A simple evening of drinking and laughter, it gave him a fleeting taste of inclusion outside the world of gyms and hospitals. Yet even this was flawed: Dan’s health made alcohol dangerous, and Jaekyung never knew of the event. For him, it became another missed party, a moment of warmth hidden from his eyes.

The traces of this seaside evening resurface in chapter 78, when Potato joins the fighters to welcome Dan back. Unlike the others, however, he arrives noticeably later. (chapter 78) This delay suggests a split loyalty: while the team is already celebrating, Potato is likely still tied to Heesung, perhaps even speaking to him on the phone. His tardiness betrays how his heart is pulled in two directions — caught between the actor’s orbit and the gym’s renewed center around Dan. Yet the embrace of the fighter, and his tearful reaction at seeing Dan again, show that his real place lies with Team Black. (chapter 78) The return of Dan shifts Potato’s focus: he no longer has to trail after Heesung, but can make his hyung and his own career a priority once more.

And here lies the seed of conflict. In chapter 59, (chapter 59) Potato had made a promise to treat Dan to a meal if he ever returned, squeezing his hand with the sincerity of a puppy. That promise, innocent as it seemed, carried a hidden trap: in Korea, such “treats” almost always involve alcohol. And he could try to recreate the party on the coast. Potato, unaware of Dan’s medical restrictions, may offer him exactly what he must refuse. Only Jaekyung knows the truth of Dan’s fragile health; only he can act as his shield against such misplaced affection. Secondly, Potato possesses pictures of the puppies (chapter 60), which he took on the day one of them died!

What makes this tension more explosive is the role of Heesung. He alone knows that Jaekyung resorted to drinking after Dan’s departure (chapter 58), and his presence ties alcohol directly to the champion’s vulnerability. At the same time, Potato’s loyalty is beginning to shift. He once orbited Heesung like a hidden lover, but Dan’s return rekindles his attachment to the gym and as such will affect his relationship with the gumiho. (chapter 78) The “puppy” now prefers Dan’s company at the gym to the actor’s beck and call. The small seaside party that once united them may become the fault line that divides them: an invitation, a bottle of soju, a clash between past habits and new priorities. For Jaekyung, it will be the ultimate test — not whether he attends the party, but whether he transforms it into something different, a celebration without alcohol, a ritual of care rather than destruction. As you can see, I am expecting the return of the fox Heesung.

And yet, even beyond the noisy welcomes and the hidden seaside gatherings, the theme of absence reaches into the most intimate farewells. When Dan prepares to leave the hospice, he leans toward his grandmother, seeking an embrace, a moment of warmth that could ease the separation. (chapter 78) But she does not return the gesture, as she might believe that he is just holding her straight. Her arms remain still, her body heavy with silence. Instead she talks, urging her grandson to leave the place as quickly as possible. So she doesn’t enjoy this moment. What should have been a small celebration of love — a hug of recognition, a party for two — dissolves into emptiness. Halmoni, who had always claimed to be his anchor, fails to give him the ritual of belonging he craves. The one gesture that could have affirmed their bond is withheld, turning tenderness into yet another missed ceremony.

Hwang Byungchul mirrors this failure in his own way. (chapter 78) Sitting stiffly in his hospital bed, he waves away any possibility of affection. His body language, arms crossed, his words reduced to commands about training, erase the emotional bond that might have connected him to Jaekyung. Where halmoni’s silence is passive, Byungchul’s is active — he refuses intimacy, replacing it with obligation. For both figures, farewell becomes an empty form, stripped of the recognition that makes partings bearable. In these moments, the absence of a hug, the denial of tenderness, is more devastating than the loudest rejection. It is a party that never begins, a rite of passage left unspoken.

This is crucial, because in Korean culture, embraces are rare, and when they occur, they carry profound weight. To hug someone is to cross into genuine intimacy, to declare loyalty and affection without words. The absence of such a gesture from halmoni and the director therefore marks not just emotional distance but outright exclusion. They cannot — or will not — celebrate Dan or Jaekyung as individuals worthy of deep affection. they only know pity, pride or annoyance. Their failure underlines the story’s central rhythm: the rituals that should affirm identity are constantly missed, postponed, or corrupted.

Placed against these failures, the quiet “parties” between Jaekyung and Dan acquire even greater weight. A home-cooked meal,

(chapter 22) (chapter 13) a breakfast in silence (chapter 68), the embraces in the dark (chapter 66) (the wordless recognition of suffering) — these become the true celebrations of Jinx. They lack alcohol, noise, or spectacle, but they carry sincerity. They reveal that belonging can be built not through grand gestures but through repetition, through the transformation of fleeting kindness into ritual. This implies the existence of conscious and choice. And yet, these moments remain fragile. After their return to the penthouse, there is no shared meal, no laughter, only nostalgia and sadness. (chapter 78) Even Jaekyung is troubled by the reminder that Dan’s stay is temporary, as if the very walls of the penthouse resist turning into a home. (chapter 78) In other words, the wolf’s task is no longer to win battles in the ring but to protect these fragile celebrations — to make Dan feel at home, to turn missed hugs into embraces, missed parties into warm meals, missed gestures into habits of care. Only then can the cycle of exclusion be broken. Only then can “The Missed Party” become, at last, a real one.

Conclusion

Both protagonists are marked by missed celebrations. Dan’s life has been a chain of exclusions: fired without farewell, blamed without defense, departing without closure. Even in death — (if we include the theory of his parents’ vanishing), the puppy’s burial — rituals of belonging were denied. Jaekyung, for his part, wins victories without feasts, carrying glory without intimacy.

The fighters and nurses offer illusory parties, mistaking noise for recognition, affection for change. But the true parties are elsewhere: in the puppies’ joyous run, in the hidden rituals of wolf and hamster [the embrace, (chapter 68), the shared meal (chapter 68) and in the landlord’s quiet kindness (chapter 78). For me, it is no coincidence that the senior followed them to the street and waved at them! (chapter 78) He expressed not only his genuine feelings, but also his longing: he hoped to see them soon. He had come to appreciate their presence which is not related to their work. The Missed Party becomes not a single absence, but the haunting rhythm of the entire narrative: recognition always arriving too late, always seen by the wrong eyes. And perhaps the story’s promise lies here — that one day, the real party will finally be held, not in karaoke bars or gym halls, but in the unbreakable bond of two men who learn what true friendship and belonging mean. This means, the more the champion and his fated partner develop new routines, the more it will affect the gym and as such Park Namwook, which can only feel more and more excluded.

PS: If in the next chapter, the night continues, then I can’t shake the feeling that Joo Jaekyung might pat doc Dan’s head and not yank his hair, like he announced it. (chapter 78)

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: You’re right 👨‍⚖️🤝

My avid readers might have been wondering why I haven’t released a single analysis yet. The reason is simple. I had a lot of stress at school (many staff meetings, school trips to plan etc), hence I had no energy left for Jinx. However, I want to publish one before the release of episode 77. Why? It is because this number is magical.

The release of chapter 77 comes charged with symbolic weight. In numerology, seven resonates with truth and inner searching and as such spiritual awakening; doubled, as in 77, it points to equity and communication — two forces balancing, two voices meeting. It is precisely this symmetry that hovers at the close of chapter 76, when Joo Jaekyung, long defined by victory, utters for the first time: “I lost.” (chapter 76) This admission is no mere reversal of pride. It gestures toward something Jaekyung has never known: an exchange that does not end in domination or silence, but in dialogue. For Kim Dan, too, it marks a turning point. (chapter 76) For the first time, he uses the expression you’re right in front of his fated partner. He seems to concede with this idiom. Yet this apparent submission hides a deeper reversal. By admitting Jaekyung never asked for his help, he redirects the exchange toward his own truth: the loneliness of having no one to care for you. (chapter 76) What unfolds in the kitchen is not a quarrel about porridge but a fragile recognition. Dan’s “You’re right” acknowledges Jaekyung’s perspective without bitterness, while Jaekyung’s “I lost”  (chapter 76) is his clumsy way of saying the same. Both, in their own idiom, admit the other is right — without denying their own truth. And tellingly, they deliver these words without facing each other. The absence of direct confrontation allows something new: not a fractured dialogue, but the first exchange built on respect. The opposite to these “challenges”: (chapter 9) (chapter 45)

Chapter 77 therefore promises not another contest of wills, but a true sharing of thoughts. The future episode, with its doubled sevens, embodies equity and communication: two truths, mirrored, balancing, a new version of the champion’s nightmare: (chapter 76) The kitchen scene closes one cycle and announces another. (chapter 76) What follows is an attempt to untangle why Jaekyung has always spoken in the language of winning and losing, how Dan has always yielded ground with his refrain “you’re right,” and why their exchange over porridge finally reverses the logic. The rest of the essay will trace how this “loss” becomes the champion’s first victory in love.

The Weight of Arguments in the wolf’s Life

Victory and loss — where does such a vocabulary come from? Such a mind-set seems almost natural for an athlete, whose life is measured in wins and defeats, belts and rankings. It is tempting, then, for Jinx-philes to assume it is Jaekyung’s own invention — the stubborn creed of a fighter who admits in chapter 76 that he was “single-minded about winning.” (Chapter 76) In this view, his fixation would be the product of ambition, pride, or ego: the expected cost of survival in a cage where only victory pays.

But that confession, full of sweat and self-loathing, risks being misunderstood if we take it at face value. The truth is revealed in the next panels: he never formed deep connections (chapter 76), because the adults in his life cut them off before they could exist. Winning became his only mode of survival because every formative argument in his youth ended in defeat, and not the kind decided by a referee. With his father, mother, coach, and manager, words never led to recognition — only to insult, silence, utility, or obedience. He learned early that dialogue could not protect him; only victory could. His victories were not chosen freely, but forced into being by guardians who made him feel like a burden, until relationships themselves became burdens.

Joo Jaewoon and laughs

With his father, argument was domination. Every interaction or exchange ended in violence or insult, the cruelest of which was the comparison to his mother:  (chapter 73) He was a loser because of his mother. To lose meant humiliation and rejection; to speak at all meant to invite contempt. The only possible rebuttal was victory — to prove through strength that he was not the pathetic, worthless child his father saw in him. Winning became his sole argument against a man who would never listen, the only way to resist being branded a loser.

This logic crystallized on the morning (dawn) of their last confrontation. Bleeding but defiant, the boy hurled back the father’s words: (chapter 73). It was not just defiance; it was a vow that victory would silence abuse once and for all. When he returned with the trophy, he shouted triumphantly, (chapter 73) ready at last to claim, “I was right.” Yet reality betrayed him. His father’s death denied him the only acknowledgment he had sought. (chapter 73) The words “I was right” died in his throat. He had proved himself, yet there was no one left to recognize it. His own prediction — that his father’s death would mean nothing — proved false. The absence cut deeper than the insults had, leaving Jaekyung not with triumph but with the bitter aftertaste of self-loathing. Victory had silenced his father, but it also silenced the son. He had proved himself, yet there was no one left to hear it. (chapter 74) At the funeral he remained dry-eyed, his face locked in shame (ch. 74). No one saw his guilt, but it consumed him: the one man he needed to hear “I was right” from could no longer answer. At the same time, his smile and laugh were also linked to misery. For Jaekyung, laughter was never the sound of joy, but the echo of mockery and rejection due to the father. Just as tears became tied to betrayal and abandonment through his mother, so too did his father twist laughter into a weapon (chapter 73) — every laugh at his expense reinforcing the verdict that he was weak, pathetic, a loser. In Jaekyung’s childhood vocabulary, neither laughter nor tears could carry warmth. Both were stripped of comfort and redefined as signs of humiliation and pain.

From then on, the champion’s victories were haunted. Each belt raised was a mute confession to a dead man, proof delivered into silence. What looked like arrogance from the outside was in fact self-loathing: every triumph reminded him of the futility of winning arguments when no one was left to listen.

The nameless mother and tears

With his mother, argument was absence disguised as care. Unlike his father, she did not break him with fists or insults but with promises and justifications that placed the burden on him. (chapter 72) To the boy, she was not silent at first: she must have definitely told him to become strong, to endure, to wait. She gave him her number, leaving the illusion that her departure was not abandonment but necessity. Victory and wealth became her conditions for love. That is why he swore over the payphone to work hard (chapter 72) and “make money” so she could return, and why after his father’s death he still hoped for her homecoming. (chapter 74) But when the calls went unanswered, her silence became the sharpest weapon of all. Her eventual reply (chapter 74) confirmed that his effort had never mattered. For the first time, he cried (chapter 74), his tears expressed not just grief but the recognition of betrayal. From then on, tears themselves became equated with loss, weakness, and abandonment. This is why, in the wolf’s nightmare, Dan’s crying form (chapter 76) appears: the sight of tears recalls the moment he unconsciously realized that even his mother’s “you’re right” was a lie. At the same time, those tears function as a mirror. The champion projects onto Dan the very weakness he has always forbidden himself to show. (chapter 76) That’s why they are facing each other. This vision confirmed my previous interpretation, the physical therapist is the athlete’s tender reflection.

Yet the nightmare reveals even more. Notice their positions: Jaekyung faces Dan as though locked in an argument, but the words he utters — “Where are you going?” — strike at the heart of his own abandonment. As a child, he had no right to question his mother’s departure; he could only trust her excuse. Now, in the dream, Dan becomes the mirror of every adult: the father who could not cry, the mother who perhaps cried but still left silently (chapter 76), the boy he once was who longed to weep but had to swallow it down. At the same time, Jaekyung himself occupies the place of the “adult” — (chapter 76) the sinner, the one guilty of causing tears. This double vision displays his self-loathing. Thus I deduce that before meeting doc Dan, in the wolf’s psyche, tears were not simply weakness but hypocrisy, a performance that masks betrayal. How do I come to this interpretation? It is because during their last phone call, the mother shed no tears (chapter 74), she only made requests! (chapter 74) Hence the wolf’s tears were quickly replaced by rage and violence. (chapter 74)

Yet the nightmare does more than replay old pain. (chapter 76) It stages his first fragile attempt at connection. The positioning is crucial: though Jaekyung stands opposite Dan as though in an argument, he shows an interest in his fated partner. He is curious and worried about him. For the boy who once believed strength and silence were the only defenses against humiliation, this hesitant query is revolutionary. He is no longer trying to win, but to reach. Hence he attempts to stop doc Dan from leaving. (chapter 76) His trembling hand upon waking (chapter 76) shows the yearning to be held, comforted, reassured — something he never received from either parent. He is not entirely responsible for the physical therapist’s suffering. And here lies the difference: Dan’s tears are not manipulative or hypocritical , like the ones Jaekyung suspects from his mother, but unfiltered honesty. He expressed his emotions, not just through tears, but also through body language! (chapter 1) He was shaking, he was bowing and asking for forgiveness! Dan embodies a form of vulnerability that is real, legible, and forgiving contrary to the mother. When the teenager heard his mother’s voice after such a long time, the latter never brought up her past action. She never asked him for forgiveness.

In this sense, the nightmare foreshadows Jaekyung’s confession in the kitchen. (chapter 76) By following him and acknowledging Dan’s suffering and sincerity, he begins to dismantle his old associations of tears with betrayal. Facing Dan means facing his inner child: the boy who once begged his mother to return, and who still waits to be told that his effort mattered. In this way, apologizing to Dan becomes a form of apologizing to himself — a step out of self-loathing and into the possibility of communication.

Hwang Byungchul and it’s not too late

If Jaekyung’s father embodied domination and his mother abandonment, Hwang Byungchul represented blindness and passivity disguised as authority. His flaw was not cruelty but compliance: he never questioned the “mothers” in his life — not his own (chapter 74), whose quiet devotion and silence kept the gym alive, nor Jaekyung’s, whose absence he accepted without challenge. (chapter 72) In fact, his own mother’s submission reinforced this flaw: her blind trust in her son, her refusal to question his choices and the boxing world, taught him that authority need not be examined, only endured or seen as trustworthy. For him, hierarchy was unquestionable, and so he perpetuated it. Thus he stands for lack of critical thinking. This is why, with Hwang, the vocabulary of “right” and “wrong” was never about dialogue but about obedience. No wonder why he became so violent at the police station. (chapter 74) Unlike Jaewoon’s domination or the mother’s evasive silence, Hwang cloaked his authority in the language of advice — yet beneath it lay a black-and-white dualism: winners and losers, villains and victims. Thus Joo Jaewoon was blamed for becoming a thug (chapter 74), while the wolf’s mother was a victim. He viewed her as a selfless and caring mother: (chapter 74)And observe how he provoked the main lead. (chapter 74) When Hwang sneers, “What, am I wrong? Come on, answer me!” he is not inviting dialogue — he is staging a trap. The question is rhetorical, a demand for submission. Let’s not forget that he had witnessed the phone call in front of the funeral hall, but back then he had done nothing. And when the boy hesitates (chapter 74), unable to answer, Hwang strikes him in the chest. (chapter 74)and justifies his action behind social norms. (chapter 74) In that instant, he takes the role of judge, referee, and executioner, collapsing “argument” into violence. The very words “Am I wrong?” contain the irony: the coach is less interested in truth than in reasserting his own authority. Silence is treated as guilt, hesitation as defeat.

When Jaekyung bowed to him (chapter 74), he effectively admitted “you’re right” to the coach. Yet this wasn’t simply genuine agreement — it was submission, respect mixed with survival. The director misread it as validation of his worldview. This only reinforced his certainty, encouraging him never to reconsider his role. (chapter 74) When the protagonist finally left, the director could declare with satisfaction: t(chapter 74).

Crucially, his phrasing matters: he does not say “I’m right,” nor does he grant the fighter subjectivity with “you’re right.” Instead, “that’s right” casts Jaekyung himself as the object of judgment — a boy who fits into Hwang’s pre-set narrative of failure. At the same time, this word “that” could be seen as a reference to social norms. The words externalize responsibility: “that” is what defines the relationship between the director and the main lead. They are not a team or a family. The director of the boxing studio was forced to become “responsible” for the teenager, because the police had called him, not because of choice or empathy. He had become his guardian from a moral and social perspective. (chapter 74) The reality was that the old man had never truly become the star’s home and family, which explains why he constantly leaned on other adults, the mother or the father, to provide the guidance he himself refused to give. At the same time, I come to the following deduction: he must have lost his boxing studio, and with its vanishing, the elder was forced to face “reality”: loneliness, sickness and absence of happiness in his life!

And even decades later, his mentality hadn’t changed. Speaking to Dan, he cast the same black-and-white judgment: (chapter 70) Once again, Jaekyung is reduced to “that bastard” — a label, not a person — while Dan is framed as the pitiable victim. The old coot remains the righteous observer, untouched by guilt, protected by a rhetoric that always shifts responsibility elsewhere.

But the champion’s visit changed everything. The boy he once pushed away, the “bastard” he never claimed, still remembered him and returned. (chapter 75) He was happy again, though he initially tried to hide it. We have to envision that before the wolf’s visit, the elder had to face what his own life outside the gym looked like: sickness, solitude, the collapse of the studio that had sustained him and came to resent the main lead. Yet, Joo Jaekyung’s behavior changed everything: (chapter 71) (chapter 71) Only during the champion’s visit, did his words alter.On the rooftop of the hospice, he finally tells Jaekyung: (chapter 75) This shift did not come from wisdom gained in the ring but from loss — the loss of health, the loss of the gym, the loss of illusions — and from Jaekyung’s loyalty, which pierced through his blindness. Interesting is that this time, he doesn’t give the answer to the athlete. He stops thinking “I’m right, you’re wrong”. He treats him as an adult, as a mature and thoughtful person. Through that fidelity, Hwang glimpsed at last what he had denied both himself and Jaekyung for decades: that victory alone cannot sustain a life.

This is where the contrast with Dan becomes stark. Hwang’s “that’s right” (chapter 74) avoids accountability, treating Jaekyung as an object who merely confirms the coach’s worldview. Dan’s later (chapter 76), by contrast, acknowledges the other as a subject. It respects Jaekyung’s perspective without erasing his own. To conclude, the director’s change of attitude signals that—even for the wolf—change is possible. (chapter 76) It is not too late. The question “Am I too late?” is the consequence of Hwang byungchul’s words and it gradually indicates the switch in the champion’s mentality. It is no longer about being right or wrong. However, the nightmare reveals another aspect: the world is not black and white, but grey. (chapter 76) Imagine for one week, the champion has been staying in bed sick and no one paid him a visit and took care of him. Not even doc Dan, who knew that the man was sick… an important detail which he didn’t reveal to his landlord. (chapter 76) Hence he remained silent and avoided his gaze. But like the director showed it, it is never too late: (chapter 76)

The Manager and His Hidden Disability

Park Namwook is often shown eyeless, as the latter are concealed behind his glasses. (chapter 69) Thus my avid readers might jump to the conclusion that his biggest flaw is blindness, similar to the director. Besides, I had often criticized him for his blindness and ignorance. However, this is just a deception. The manager’s real defect is actually his deafness. How so? He does not hear Jaekyung’s words (chapter 17) at all. The verity is that he refuses to listen to his thoughts and emotions (chapter 31) in good (chapter 45) or in bad times. It goes so far, he does not take his silences seriously, and does not register his pain. This explicates why the manager saw in the champion’s silence at the restaurant as an agreement for a new fight! (chapter 69) His role is not to guide or protect, but to extract: money, victories, publicity. (chapter 75) In my opinion, he is fighting against oblivion through the star. This hidden disability explains why the coach can never truly connect with the champion. He listens instead to other voices – the CEO of MFC (chapter 69), the rumors among the directors (chapter 46), the media (chapter 52), the sponsors (chapter 41), the spectators or “authorities”(chapter 36) — and reacts to them, even violently, as in chapter 52, when public criticism painted Jaekyung in a negative light. (chapter 52) The slap was less about Jaekyung’s behavior than about Namwook’s own fear of outside judgment. He was not listening to the man in front of him but to the noise around him. He feared losing control in the end, especially after the athlete’s words let transpire his true position at the gym: (chapter 52) His question is not mere anger. It is a confession of position — an inadvertent acknowledgment that he knows he is the true backbone of the gym. He is the one responsible, the one carrying the burden that Namwook refuses to admit. These words crack the illusion: the fighter is not subordinate, but owner. The gym lives because of him.

Namwook’s reaction is immediate and violent. He slaps Jaekyung, not to correct him, but to silence him. The blow is the physical embodiment of his deafness: he refuses to hear the truth, so he strikes to reassert control. In that moment, Namwook reveals his greatest fear — that the fragile hierarchy could collapse if the fighter’s voice were truly recognized. And this interpretation gets validated right after: he appears as the one dependent on the athlete. (chapter 52) He acted as a child, faked “tears” in order to use empathy to his advantage.

For Namwook, dialogue is irrelevant: he expects obedience, nothing more, similar to the director. However, there’s a difference between them. Hwang Byungchul felt pity for the little boy in the past (chapter 71), hence he tried to help in his own way. On the other hand, Park Namwook shows clearly no sign to be interested in the private life of his boss. He is preferring ignorance over “knowledge and connection”. (chapter 66) Despite the incident, the manager hasn’t changed yet. He clinched onto the past, thinking that everything will be like before, as soon as the athlete enters the ring. He images a return to normality with the next match.

And yet, signs of change creep in. In chapter 66, standing in the silence of his own wardrobe, the star repeats Namwook’s words to himself: (chapter 66) For years, he had accepted his manager’s judgments out of habit, mistaking silence for consent. But here, for the first time, the repetition feels deliberate — not resignation, but reflection (“though”). The phrase becomes a question more than an agreement: is he truly right? He is admitting this out of habit.

By chapter 69, the cracks widen. Driving alone, he clenches the wheel and admits inwardly: (chapter 69) His silence has shifted from obedience to suffocation. The weight of Namwook’s deaf authority is no longer bearable. And yet, even here, his confession is muted, confined to the private space of his car. He is not yet ready to speak the words aloud — not until someone appears who will listen.

Park Namwook’s hidden disability, then, is not that he cannot hear, but that he refuses to. Hence he becomes blind as well because of his greed and vanity. His authority depends on silencing Jaekyung’s voice, keeping him in the role of the commodity who produces money but never speaks truth. The moment that silence is broken, his position collapses. And the wardrobe and the car foreshadow this collapse — places of solitude where Jaekyung begins, at last, to hear himself. And here I feel the need to add another observation: (chapter 48) This scene was observed by Kwak Junbeom, so the latter could have reported it to the coach. If it truly happened, this would expose the coach’s deafness and cowardice. He chose passivity instead of confronting the doctor or the champion. That way, he avoided responsibility. And this brings me to my final conclusion concerning the deaf manager. His main way to contact the celebrity is the cellphone: (chapter 66) It is both his mask and his crutch — a tool for barking orders, never for dialogue. The moment the line goes dead, his authority collapses, for he has no other means of contact. His power depends on Jaekyung’s reception, not his own strength. In truth, the manager’s disability is exposed here: deaf to Jaekyung’s voice, he has trained himself to hear only the ring of a phone. A fragile authority built on silence, ready to crumble the instant Jaekyung decides to switch it off.

Conclusions: The true origins of the champion’s mind-set

From these four figures, Jaekyung inherited a devastating binary. Argument meant violence, silence, utility, or stubbornness and selfishness — never recognition. No wonder why the champion became so selfish. He never had the last word. They were all right, he was always wrong… while the verity is that they all failed him as elders. And beneath the silence grew self-loathing: every failure, every moment of doubt confirmed the voices of his past. If he was not winning, he was worthless. That is why his reflection here (chapter 76) must be read not as pride, but as a desperate shield against annihilation. In other words, in episode 76, the athlete is too harsh on himself, though I am not saying that he is innocent either. He only thought of himself because he had taught to behave that way. He was just mirroring the adults surrounding him who hid their weaknesses and wrongdoings behind “lies, social norms and hierarchy”.

Kim Dan and “You’re right”

Kim Dan’s world mirrors this in reverse. Where Jaekyung was forced to fight for survival, Dan was taught to yield. (chapter 57) With his grandmother and with every authority he encountered — doctors, employers, even predators — he believed unquestioningly that others were right and he was wrong. Hence he trusted others blindly. He was trained to accept decisions made for him or against him. (chapter 70) Thus he accepts criticism with defending his own interest. He was not taught how to fight back or resist or even argue. (chapter 1) He never tried to seek justice. His “you’re right” was not recognition but submission, the language of someone who could not afford to resist. In season one, this made their relationship combustible: Jaekyung spoke only in victory and as such submission, while Dan accepted every loss as natural. He also adopted this mind-set. On the other hand, because their initial interaction was based on a contract, (chapter 6), both were forced to discuss with each other about the “content of the agreement”. That’s where the champion was trained to communciate with the physical therapist. Thanks to the champion, because of this victory/loss mentality, the doctor learned gradually to argue and “reply” with his “boss. However, due to his childhood, he couldn’t totally drop his old principles like for example “saying no”. (chapter 34) To conclude, before their fateful meeting, neither man had learned how to argue as equals. But in the kitchen in front of the stove, this changed: both are right and wrong! (chapter 76)

The Wolf’s Defeat in front of the Hamster

In the kitchen of chapter 76, Jaekyung does the unthinkable. (chapter 76) He lowers his head, leans against the wall, and mumbles words that would once have been inconceivable: “I lost. This is my undisputed defeat.” The phrasing is awkward, almost clumsy — the language of the ring awkwardly transplanted into the language of intimacy. But precisely because it sounds “wrong,” the moment feels real. For the first time, Jaekyung has no script to fall back on.

The body betrays what the words alone cannot carry. His feet are angled awkwardly, as if he does not quite know how to stand in this unfamiliar territory. His ears burn red, the involuntary flush of shyness. His voice is muffled, half-swallowed, the tone of a man who is both embarrassed and afraid. This is not the bold, aggressive fighter who has silenced others with insults or blows. This is Jaekyung stripped bare, caught between self-loathing and vulnerability. This is the child Jaekyung, the “cute cat”.

Self-loathing is essential to this moment. His confession is not a triumphant recognition of Dan’s worth, but a hesitant, guilty murmur: “I lost” is heavy with the weight of “I mistreated you, I don’t deserve you.” (chapter 76) He speaks like someone expecting rejection. Hence he keeps his distance. Yet the very fact that he says it at all signals change. Where once he would have doubled down — by barking an order, by firing Dan, by retreating into silence — he now admits defeat. The vocabulary of winning and losing, inherited from his father and reinforced by every adult in his life, collapses in the presence of Dan’s quiet honesty.

And paradoxically, this “defeat” is liberating. For Jaekyung, losing has always meant humiliation — the sneer of his father, the silence of his mother, the slap of his coach, the deafness of his manager. But here, losing does not bring scorn. It does not end in abandonment. It opens a space for recognition: losing to Dan means acknowledging that his heart has been touched, that someone else’s truth has entered his world and survived. In defeat, he is finally allowed to stop fighting.

This admission comes after a night of trembling restraint (chapter 76), where he literally grasps his own shoulder as though seeking the comfort of an embrace. The champion who once sneered at tears now reveals what he secretly longed for all along: to be reassured, to be held, to be forgiven. His “tap” against the wall is a silent gesture of surrender (chapter 76) — an acknowledgment that he can no longer keep his walls intact. He is now willing to rely on doc Dan exclusively.

The flashbacks frame this shift: (chapter 76). His confession reveals not strength but guilt. Kim Dan’s suffering was the price of his victories, and he knows it. On the other hand, his mea culpa should be relativized, for both were the targets of a plot! (chapter 76) These words expose both responsibility and shame: he had prioritized survival over connection, career over compassion. What boils under his skin is not pride but remorse.

And yet, within this defeat lies recognition: the fragile physical therapist, weak in constitution and endlessly battered by life, possesses a heart larger than his own. “When he not only failed to fulfill that role, but even showed me a weak side to him, it got my blood boiling” (chapter 76). The anger masked envy. Dan’s ability to remain soft, to cry openly, to keep caring despite his own pain — that is a form of strength Jaekyung never had. (chapter 76) The star’s thoughts in the kitchen are actually mirroring the ones in the bathroom: (chapter 68) In the bathtub, he still saw himself as the one in control, with the upper hand… but this is no longer the case in the kitchen. Through the physical therapist, the wolf is learning that even being in a vulnerable state doesn’t mean that this person is powerless. It is just that his “strength” lies elsewhere. In other words, someone struggling can also give comfort to another person in pain.

In front of the stove, (chapter 76) his words to Dan are clumsy and his tone hesitant, but the meaning is clear: this is the clean start of their relationship. He will no longer measure life by wins and losses, but by the courage to stand unguarded before another human being.

Thus the kitchen becomes a battlefield turned sanctuary. (chapter 76) The stove glows, not as an opponent’s spotlight, but as a hearth. The man who could never say “you’re wrong” to his father, mother, or coach finally confesses it in his own way: “I lost.” And in that defeat, Jaekyung discovers what victory in love looks like — not domination, but the freedom to lean, blush, and be weak without fear.

The bed, the table and the champion

If the table in Jaekyung’s childhood home was cluttered with ramen packs and soju bottles — (chapter 72) a place of solitary consumption rather than shared meals, the bed was the place where the little boy would drink his milk. (chapter 72) It is interesting that actually, Doc Dan wanted to bring the porridge to Joo Jaekyung to his bed during that full moon night, thus the latter made the following request: (chapter 76) But the wolf didn’t understand the hamster’s intention and followed his “hyung” to the kitchen. That’s how a misunderstanding was born which is also reflected in this interaction: (chapter 76) Here, what the wolf wanted was not to be a burden to the physical therapist. But he realized right away that his words could be misinterpreted. (chapter 76) However, doc Dan agreed to this, he remained calm. (chapter 76) Yet, the misunderstanding is not totally out of the room. Hence the doctor imagines that he has to leave the place right after the porridge is finished. However, what caught my attention is that in this brief scene, there was no table between them (chapter 76) contrary to the past, in particular in the penthouse. (chapter 41) The latter actually represented a hindrance between them, it marked their relationship: boss and “employee” (servant). Moreover, since the table in the champion’s childhood was linked to one person (the father), it is clear that the champion has never shared a table with someone. And this aspect brings me to my other observation.

The table under Park Namwook’s watch was no better. It was never about eating together as family, but about transactions. (chapter 22) Whether in meetings, weigh-ins, or dinners with the CEO (chapter 69), the table served as the stage for contracts, discipline, and deals. Even in chapter 36, where Namwook barked at him in front of guests, or in chapter 46, where he sat beside him during business discussions, the surface between them was never for intimacy. (chapter 46) It was a place where others dictated terms, while Jaekyung’s silence was mistaken for consent. And now, you comprehend why the two main leads could get closer in front of the stove in the kitchen. This place stands for warmth, care and family. (chapter 76) He lost, because there was no table… there is no contract, silence … this is no longer work, but home!

And this brings to my final observation. You certainly remember how the champion offered the doctor (chapter 13) a meal after his collapse. He refused to bring a meal to the bed, he asked him to join in the dining room and sit at the table. And what did they do there? The champion talked about his career, his fight etc… (chapter 13) the champion has long associated the table to business and not “care”. That’s why it is important for him to remember the significance of the bed in his childhood. It was the place where he could feel comfortable and safe, where he would eat! (chapter 72)

To conclude, the table represents the ultimate emblem of selfishness and deafness: a place where Jaekyung’s words and silences alike carry no weight and he is treated like an object.

Against this backdrop, the kitchen scene in chapter 76 shines with quiet revolt. (chapter 76) There, no table separates him from Dan, no manager is present to misread his silence. Both stand shoulder to shoulder by the stove, and what unfolds is not a deal but an exchange — fragmented, yes, but genuine. The kitchen, unlike the boardroom, is not a place of deafness but of listening, even in misunderstanding. In admitting “I lost,” Jaekyung finally answers an argument not with fists or silence, but with vulnerability. The table collapses, and with it the authority of all those who once claimed to know what was best for him.

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

Jinx: The Wolf’s 🐺 Ritual in front of the 🐹Tender Mirror 🪞

The Wolf Before the Mirror

After episode 75, many readers felt they finally understood Joo Jaekyung. He spoke of his routines — the glass of milk (chapter 75), the perfume (chapter 75), the nights of sex before a fight (chapter 75). His words seemed like a confession, a key to the riddle of the Night Emperor. But do we truly know him now? Yes and no. Yes, because his testimony reveals patterns we had only noticed before. No, because those patterns are only the ones he decided to share. The tattoos chapter 75) that suddenly appeared on his body (chapter 75), for example, were left unmentioned — proof that silence still surrounds him.

And that silence is the heart of the mystery. Why cling to such gestures at all? (chapter 75) Why fight as though every match were a matter of life and death? Why keep repeating the same acts, long after survival was secured? (chapter 75) What does the jinx truly represent for him — mere superstition, a ritual of control, or something he himself has not yet dared to name? For Jaekyung himself cannot fully explain it. He confesses what he knows — that sex steadies him, that milk soothes him, that perfume sharpens him — but he does not grasp what lies beneath these habits. The origin of the jinx remains hidden, lodged somewhere between memory and trauma, where even he cannot follow. Are these rituals mere superstition, a desperate bid for control? Or are they fragments of something deeper — pieces of a story he has never fully told, even to himself?

This essay does not claim to solve the riddle once and for all. Instead, it traces the wolf’s path step by step: the seed of the jinx in childhood loss, its growth through training and systems, its mask as professional myth, its collapse in illness and insomnia, and the counterforce embodied by Kim Dan — the tender mirror that reflects what Jaekyung has never faced.

The wolf has spoken, but his words only open new questions. To read them closely is not to find closure, but to stand at the edge of the mirror and ask: what truth still hides behind the jinx?

The Birth of the Jinx: From Loser to Survivor

The origins of Joo Jaekyung’s “jinx” cannot be reduced to a single event or ritual .(chapter 75) They are the product of a long chain of humiliations, betrayals, and systemic exploitation, each layering onto the next until a young man’s raw talent was encased in a carapace of compulsions. To understand the jinx is to understand how the protagonist’s life collapsed around the word loser, and how the fighting industry transformed his private shame into public myth.

From the beginning, Jaekyung’s relationship to combat was not framed as “sport” or “discipline” but as survival. (chapter 72) Even before stepping into a professional cage, his life had been a series of trials to prove he was not worthless. (chapter 74) Hunger, poverty, bullying, insults— each branded his body with a language of violence. Among them came his father’s words, spat like a curse: loser. (chapter 73) That insult crystallized everything. The young boy absorbed it as truth, so much so that every later fight would be less about victory and more about silencing that single syllable. (chapter 75)

To conclude, the origins of Joo Jaekyung’s jinx lie in the place where private wounds and public exploitation overlap. It was never simply a superstition, nor only the accumulation of personal rituals. It was born in the crucible of insult, abandonment, and systemic betrayal, until it hardened into a second skin. To grasp the weight of the jinx, one must trace its seed in his childhood, its growth in the system that exploited him, and its crisis in the moment when he first admitted: I can’t take it anymore (chapter 69)

The Five Losses

At first, Joo Jaekyung’s rise seemed unstoppable. He was young, raw, and hungry (chapter 75) — a boy who fought with the desperation of someone who had nothing else. Victory after victory gave him the illusion that he had escaped his father’s shadow. As long as he was winning, he could suppress the pain, bury the insult loser, and silence the memory of that cursed night when his father died and his mother abandoned him. Triumph became his shield, proof that he was not what he had said he was.

But then came the first defeat. (chapter 75)

For most athletes, a loss is a bruise, a chance to recalibrate. For Jaekyung, it was a collapse, That first loss did not just wound his pride — it broke the fragile wall he had built against his past. With the referee’s decision, the ghosts returned. Memories he had forced into silence came rushing back: his father’s drunken rages, the contempt in his voice, the silence of the house after the funeral, the absence of the mother who should have stayed.

Yet the people around him could not see any of this. (chapter 75) To them, a fighter’s struggles had only one explanation: weakness. Park Namwook and the other coach dismissed his losses as nerves (chapter 75), as if the only measure of worth were what happened under the spotlight. They never thought to ask what kind of weight he was carrying, what kind of nights he was surviving before he entered the cage. While the other fighters were well aware of the champion’s insomnia (chapter 75), Park Namwook still has no idea of the champion’s struggles. This shows how disconnected he is from his “boy”.

For the coaches, fighters were not human beings with inner lives. They were “fresh meat,” (chapter 74) bodies to be tested, pushed, and discarded if they broke. Where Jaekyung’s defeat cracked open childhood trauma, they saw only performance failure. What he lived as suffocation and despair (chapter 75), they reduced to cowardice, bad luck or lack of discipline.

It was after that first defeat that the nightmares began. On the eve of every major fight, his father returned in dreams — not as comfort, but as terror. (chapter 75) Shadowed hands stretched over his body, pressing down, suffocating him as he tried to sleep. The man was dead, but still he choked the air from his son. It was, as if the father wanted to bring his son to the afterlife.

In truth, every match had always been a battle for survival. (chapter 75) Even before his first loss, Jaekyung fought like a cornered animal, pouring every ounce of strength into proving he could not be beaten. That’s why he rose so fast. But why? The reason is that all his opponents were reflections of his “father”. (chapter 29) Hence all the challengers have empty eyes and a smirk on their face, just like Joo Jaewoong. (chapter 75) Consequently, his matches always looked like life-and-death struggles. He wasn’t strategizing against a specific fighter; he was exorcising a ghost. That’s why he never refused a challenge. His opponent never mattered. Besides, as long as he could win, it didn’t matter.

But after his first defeat, that survival style began to falter. The stronger his opponents became (chapter 75), the more the cracks showed — and the ghosts of his father and mother made every fight feel like a replay of abandonment and accusation. The five losses (chapter 75) were not just setbacks in his career; they were the repeated reopening of a wound that would never heal. Each one confirmed his father’s curse. Each one reinforced the sense that he was marked, that no matter how high he climbed, he would always be dragged down again.

This is why insomnia became his constant companion. Victories silenced the ghosts temporarily, but the fear of defeat meant he could never rest. (chapter 29) Sleep was dangerous. Night itself was dangerous. To close his eyes was to risk drowning again in his father’s shadow.

The “jinx” was born here, in the space between triumph and terror. Losses triggered his past, victories gave only temporary relief, and the cycle of sleeplessness carved itself into his body. It was not just that he lost five matches — it was that in losing, he discovered he could never truly escape. (chapter 75)

Defeat for Jaekyung was never contained to the ring. It spilled outward, contaminating his sense of self. With no supportive network to reframe failure as growth, he internalized it as destiny. At this point the soil of the jinx had been prepared: shame, hunger, and despair compacted into a single wound.

The Father’s Insult & the Mother’s Abandonment

If the five losses cracked Jaekyung’s present, the deeper fracture had already been carved years earlier — on the night of his father’s death. That final argument sealed itself into his soul like a curse.

The fight began when Jaekyung, cornered by frustration and anger, shouted his desire to leave “this dump of a house.” (chapter 73) To the boy, it was a cry for pain and survival — an instinctive urge to escape despair and criticism. To the father, it was betrayal. Already emasculated by failure and drink, he was reminded of his wife’s discontent, the specter of another abandonment. He lashed out the only way he knew: (chapter 73)

That word — loser — became permanent. When the father died later that night, Jaekyung was left with two unbearable impressions: that his last words had cursed his father to die (chapter 73), and that the man’s final judgment on him would never be undone. Love and hatred, longing and guilt fused in that moment. He loved his father despite the abuse. And yet he would forever wonder if leaving — even just threatening to leave — had killed him. Worse, because death came so suddenly, there was no time left. (chapter 73) The clock had stopped before forgiveness could be spoken, before the boy could say he had not meant it. From that moment on, time itself became his opponent: every match another countdown, every victory an attempt to outrun that night.

The nightmares that began after Jaekyung’s first professional loss are echoes of that night. In them, his father returns, shadowed hands stretching to choke the air from his chest. (chapter 75) The hands around his throat were not only the weight of guilt — the boy regretting words he could never take back. (chapter 75) They were also the expression of longing, the words his father had not spoken that day. Behind the insult ‘loser’ was the wound of a man deserted by his wife (chapter 73), unable to voice his own vulnerability. (chapter 75) In the dream, the silence became hands: both curse and plea, punishment and confession, suffocating the son who could never repair what had been broken. It was as if the father wanted to bring his son to the other side, yet beneath the violence was a plea: “Don’t abandon me, too.”

And here, the mirror appears. Dan unconsciously repeats the father’s gesture (chapter 66) — speaking not with fists or insults but with tears and an embrace. (chapter 66) His sleepwalking reacting to a simple touch (chapter 65), his dissociative pleas (chapter 66) give Jaekyung the words his father could not say. Where the father’s unconscious leaked out in aggression, Dan’s unconscious offers gentleness and honesty. Both men speak from a place deeper than reason; one chained Jaekyung to guilt, the other opens the possibility of release. In Dan’s trembling body, Jaekyung sees the tender reflection of his father’s hidden plea (chapter 66) — the same hands that once strangled him in nightmares now return as arms clutching him in desperation, not to kill him, but to keep him alive. Doc Dan’s whispers revealed that deep down, he desired to be saved and even taken. The father and the physical therapist both fear abandonment. That’s how it dawned on me why Joo Jaewoong chose to hide his vulnerability and resorted to violence and insult to mask his suffering and low self-esteem. Where are his parents in this story? Why was he obsessed to leave the place? (chapter 73) Why does the champion have no grand-parents?

If Joo Jaewoong was himself an orphan — or had effectively lived as one — then his life would have been marked by the same wounds that later haunted his son: abandonment, lack of recognition, and a hunger for belonging. But unlike Jaekyung, he never found a way to sublimate that pain into something lasting. His only outlet was boxing, a fragile refuge that collapsed once his career failed. (chapter 74) With no parents, no siblings, and eventually no wife, he had nothing to fall back on and saw in the criminal world another form of “family”. The family he created became his one fragile shelter — and when that shelter cracked, there was nothing left to hold him.

This also explains why betrayal cut so deeply. If he had been orphaned once already, his worst nightmare was to be abandoned again. When his wife left, the nightmare returned in full force. (chapter 72) His violence expressed his powerlessness. And when his son shouted his desire to leave the “dump of a house,” (chapter 73) he heard the same wound echoing. His response — calling his son a loser — was not really about boxing. It was about himself. In Jaekyung’s words he recognized his own instinct: the same drive to escape, to sever ties, to search for life elsewhere. His insult was not only an attack, but also a mirror, reflecting back the failure and desertion he had never overcome.

The tragedy is that he had no language for vulnerability. Where Kim Dan trembles and pleads openly, (chapter 66), the father could not. He had never been taught how to ask for help, how to voice fear, how to admit despair. Keep in mind how the little “hamster” was treated at school: (chapter 57) Violence and insult became his only idiom. “Loser” was not simply an accusation, but the displaced confession of his own defeat: I was abandoned. I failed. I have nothing.

This is why he resented his son. Jaekyung mirrored him too closely. (chapter 73) The boy’s boxing talent was a source of pride — proof of strength — but also a threat. Strength meant escape. Escape meant abandonment. The father, who had already lost his wife and his dignity, projected onto his son the terror of losing everything once again. His resentment was not born of disappointment alone but of recognition (unconsciously): you are me, and you will leave me too.

From a narrative standpoint, this also clarifies why Jinx never shows Jaekyung’s grandparents, while Dan’s halmoni plays such a visible role. (chapter 65) The absence is not an oversight but a theme. Jaekyung comes from severed roots: no grandparents, no siblings, no extended family to lean on. Hence he was alone at the funeral. (chapter 74) His father may have been an orphan, just like his mother too. Therefore the latter was emotionally unavailable, and so he inherited not only trauma but also silence. By contrast, Dan has at least one surviving figure — flawed as she is — who keeps the family thread intact. That contrast makes Jaekyung’s bond with Dan all the more significant: it is not just romance, but an attempt to build a family line that never existed before him.

This also explains why the story deliberately exposed the “mother” of Hwang Byungchul (chapter 73), while keeping Jaewoong’s own origins shrouded. Hwang had someone by his side — gentle, quiet, but present — while Jaewoong had no one, as according to me, the mother was counting on her “husband”‘s success and dream. The director’s stability, however fragile, was rooted in that maternal figure. Jaewoong had no such guide, and without it, he simply made the wrong choice.

If the father cursed him with words, the mother wounded him with silence. When news of her husband’s death reached her (chapter 74), she never once spoke to her son about it, never asked what he felt. She did not grieve with him, nor allow him to grieve. Besides, the main lead’s words were ambiguous: Was the father dead or had he abandoned his son too? The fact that she never asked exposes that it didn’t matter to her. She was not interested in the truth, her only concern was herself — her new life, her fear of losing it. Where the father left him branded, the mother left him erased. (chapter 75) One condemned him, the other abandoned him, and between them Jaekyung was left with neither recognition nor belonging.

Worse still, she used time itself against him. To her, his pain was invalid because he had “grown up”; childhood had expired, and with it any claim to comfort. If the father’s death left him no time to undo his last words, the mother’s detachment told him he was already too late. One parent departed too soon, the other dismissed him as already finished. Between them, Jaekyung was trapped in a cruel paradox of time. This explicates why he rushed his career. Every victory carried the urgency of being “not too late,” yet every memory reminded him that it already was.

This fusion of insult and betrayal created the paradox that would dominate his adult life. Every victory was haunted by loss (chapter 73); every triumph, by the echo of rejection (chapter 73). To win was to prove his father wrong, but to stand alone in victory was to prove his mother right. Success and emptiness became inseparable.

And yet, this is precisely why Kim Dan’s presence destabilizes him. The quiet therapist mirrors the mother: bound to the domestic, offering care in silence (chapter 56), seemingly fragile and dependent. But unlike her, he stays. Where the mother left, Dan endures. He only left because of the champion’s final words: (chapter 51)

By choosing Dan, Jaekyung faces the chance to rewrite the past on both fronts. To hear in the tears of another man what his father could not say. To receive in daily presence what his mother could not give. Dan is the mirror — but also the key. Through him, the curse of that night can finally be undone. The insult “loser” can be answered not with endless victories but with loyalty and responsibility. The suffocating grip of the nightmare can be released not by outrunning it, but by choosing someone who will not disappear when the fight is over. Finally, because his fated partner’s fate resembles to his own father, he can grasp Joo Jaewoong’s words from that night much better. That moment where Jaewoong shouts, (chapter 73) mirrors what the director later whispers to Jaekyung: (chapter 75) Both men — the broken father and the regretful coach — carry the same hidden insight: that fighting cannot be the whole of life, and that reducing yourself to fists and violence only leads to ruin.

But where Jaewoong voiced it as rage (a curse disguised as a lesson), the director voiced it as wisdom (a confession born of hindsight). Both were trying, in their own ways, to warn the boy. And yet, Jaekyung could not hear it until he had this vision of doc Dan waiting for him! (chapter 75) This is the wolf’s ritual in front of the tender mirror: the fighter who lived by curses and silence finally meeting their reflection transformed into gentleness and endurance.

To conclude, Dan is not just a partner but the tender mirror of the champion. He reflects both parents back to Jaekyung: the father’s unspoken vulnerability, the mother’s missing presence. To accept Dan is to answer both wounds at once — to refuse to be defined by the word “loser,” and to refuse the emptiness that haunted every victory.

The Bible Fighter Encounter

At his lowest point, after the five humiliating defeats and the sleepless nights where his father’s shadow clawed at his throat, Jaekyung stumbled across another fighter whose stability was almost alien. (chapter 75) This man’s jinx was startlingly simple: he read the Bible before every match. One book, one ritual, one anchor. To outsiders, it may have seemed quaint, even laughable, but to Jaekyung it was enviable.

Here was a man who had condensed all the chaos of combat into a single act of faith. His jinx was not a patchwork of compulsions but a covenant: a relationship to something larger than himself, a story that gave meaning to the brutality of the cage. (chapter 75) When he prayed, it was not only for victory, but for coherence. Win or lose, the ritual bound him to a sense of belonging that Jaekyung had never tasted.

For Jaekyung, the encounter did not plant faith, but it did plant envy. (chapter 75) If ritual could bend fate, he would build his own. But where the Bible fighter had a single, unifying story — scripture, God, fellowship — Jaekyung had nothing to draw on. No faith to lean on, no parental blessing to inherit, no safe home to return to. Instead, he began to stitch together a mosaic of rituals, each one disguising a different childhood wound. To outsiders it looked obsessive, neurotic, almost superstitious. To him, it was survival. Each gesture was both repression and remembrance, a scar disguised as armor. And this is the paradox: the rituals made him strong enough to survive, but too broken to live.

  • Sex was not intimacy but anesthesia. (chapter 75) By using another body, he cleared his head, numbed the loneliness, and convinced himself he was in control. But it was also a grim reenactment of abandonment: he could take without being left, dominate rather than risk being deserted. At the same time, he considered his sex partners as toys in order to avoid guilt. A toy can not die, it can be “thrown away”.
  • Milk seemed trivial — a glass before the day began. (chapter 75) But in truth it was a disguised memory of hunger (chapter 72), of nights when there was nothing to eat, of shame attached to poverty. (chapter 75) To drink milk was to rewrite the past: I will not go hungry again. Yet the act was also a reminder that he once had.
  • Perfume transformed bullying into ritual. Once shamed for smell and sweat (chapter 75), he turned fragrance into armor. (chapter 75) The bottle on his shelf was less cosmetic than talismanic, proof that no one could call him dirty again. But the ritual did not erase the insult; it replayed it daily.
  • Tattoos etched pain into permanence. To endure the needle was to reenact overtraining (chapter 27) , self-punishment, the willingness to suffer endlessly for the cage. He didn’t fear pain. Their sudden appearance (chapter 75) remains shrouded in silence — who drew them onto his body, and under what conditions? Why are they absent in his youth, only to surface fully formed as he steps onto the international stage? This silence is telling. The tattoos are both declaration and wound: marks of pride, but also scars he chose to carry in plain sight.

Together, these rituals formed a raft — not to carry him forward, but to keep him from drowning. They gave him the illusion of escape, while chaining him to the very traumas he sought to forget. He imagined he was moving on, outpacing the ghosts of his father’s insult and his mother’s abandonment. Yet each gesture pulled the past back into the present. The Bible fighter’s ritual was a prayer; Jaekyung’s were bargains. The more he clung to them, the clearer it became that he was not free. He was frozen, an adult in body but still the boy (chapter 75) who had been abandoned, when he was 6 years old. In fact, on the day, he shouted to his father he would leave this “dump of the house”, he didn’t anticipate that he would relive the day, when he was abandoned as a child. That’s why he has imagined of himself as a little boy and not a teenager. He had the heart of a little boy: wounded, scared and abandoned. Thus he could never grow emotionally. His jinx was not transcendence but entrapment. He was bargaining with memory: don’t let me fall back into the night where I was branded a loser. Don’t let me taste abandonment again.

In this way, the Bible fighter’s simplicity only underscored Jaekyung’s fracture. What was singular faith for one man became a shattered mosaic for another. The jinx did not make him whole; it reminded him every day of how broken he already was.

The Rush to the Top and his predestined Fall

What made this fragile system even more dangerous was the brutal pace at which his career was structured. Between the ages of twenty and twenty-six, Jaekyung was hurled from obscurity into the international spotlight. His first MFC fight was already the 220th bout (chapter 75), a reminder that he had entered a machine in motion, a system that swallowed fighters whole and spat out statistics. From that point, the acceleration was merciless: by April, he was in the 272nd bout against Randy Booker (chapter 14); by June, the 293rd against Dominic Hill (chapter 40); and by July, the 298th against Baek Junmin. (chapter 50)

In less than two years, there were merely eighty fights, and he participated quite often: 4 within 5 months (I am including the one in episode 5) The pace was staggering — inhuman. In the span of six years (chapter 75), he had not merely “built” a career, he had been consumed by one. There was no time to recover from injuries, no space to process victory, no room to integrate defeat. No wonder why his shoulders were in bad shape. (chapter 27) And even before entering MFC, he had to win the champion title for KO-FC! Here he had to face many opponents. (chapter 75) Every fight blurred into the next, every opponent older, stronger, more experienced. And yet Jaekyung fought them all with the same desperate, survival-driven ferocity.

Commentators marveled at his intensity, describing him as if he were “fighting for his life.” (chapter 75) They meant it metaphorically, but for Jaekyung it was literal. The cage was his childhood all over again — a dump he needed to escape, fists and rage the only tools at hand. He fought not to win titles but to silence ghosts. Every opponent became his father’s shadow, every victory a plea to his absent mother: see me, recognize me, don’t abandon me.

This was not a steady ascent, not the careful shaping of an “athlete.” It was exploitation disguised as opportunity. Moderators described his ferocity as spectacle, but the deeper betrayal was in the language used to frame him. The director (chapter 71) and Dr. Lee (chapter 27) still called him an athlete — someone whose body required balance, protection, recovery. But MFC and KO-FC never did. For them, the main lead or his colleagues were addressed as (chapter 14) “The Emperor”, “a crazy bastard” (chapter 40), “my boy”, (chapter 74) “fresh meat,” (chapter 14) “ Randy Booker the butcher,” or (chapter 47) “a potential star.” Not a person, not even a professional, but branding material — a body to be consumed by audiences and discarded once spent. The absence of the word athlete marks what he lost: recognition as a human being. And guess what? (chapter 41) Only doc Dan at the gym saw the fighters as athletes!

Here, the personal and the professional fused in a toxic loop. The wolf’s private jinx gave him the illusion of control — sex, milk, perfume, tattoos — while the organizations fed on those compulsions, scheduling fight after fight, using his rituals as fuel for their machine. The more he fought, the more he relied on the jinx. The more he relied on the jinx, the more exploitable he became. What looked like discipline was really desperation; what looked like destiny was really a trap.

The tattoos mark this stage with brutal clarity. They appear suddenly (chapter 75), without narrative explanation of when or by whom they were inked — as if stamped onto him by the very system he served. In South Korea, tattoos long carried a stigma, associated with gangs and the underworld; Baek Junmin’s body displays this openly (chapter 47). Thus only doctors are allowed to do them officially. But Jaekyung’s rise shifted that meaning. As “The Emperor,” he normalized tattoos for the new generation of fighters, transforming what once marked marginality into a badge of visibility. This is why even Oh Daehyun, one of his admirers and members of Team Black, now carries one: (chapter 8) The celebrity’s suffering literally redefined the aesthetic of the sport. His body, turned billboard, became part of the league’s branding.

Is it a coincidence that Jaekyung’s fall began almost as soon as Dan entered his orbit? At first glance, one might think the therapist’s presence destabilized him, but the timing reveals something darker. The moment Jaekyung began to show humanity, the system pounced — using his deepest wounds as leverage to strip him down.

Every challenge he faced after Dan’s arrival carried the sharp edge of his private pain. Randy Booker taunted him as a “baby,” (chapter 14) ripping open the scar of his father’s “loser” and his mother’s absence and silent parentification. Not long after, an article exposed his shoulder injury (chapter 35), reducing years of discipline to a liability on the page. Later came the suspension narrative (chapter 54), his temper framed not as the product of exploitation and scheme but as proof of unfitness, as if his rage were a crime instead of a symptom. (chapter 54) Even the match with Baek Junmin was twisted against him — accepted under pressure, then reframed as recklessness. To the system, his crown had been too secure, his presence too dominant. He had been champion for “too long.”

The logic was brutally simple: a fighter is valuable until he earns too much , (chapter 41) until he threatens the balance of spectacle and profit. Then the very traits that made him marketable — ferocity, endurance, defiance — are turned into weapons against him. The same press that glorified his titles was quick to call him a liability. What the commentators once celebrated as survival was reframed as instability. Did you notice that all the events quoted above are linked to the number 5! (chapter 5) the name Seo Gichan appeared here for the first time… a faceless name!

The panel of the gym makes this logic stark. (chapter 41) His match fee doubled, and the athletes around him cheered, basking in the reflected glory of his win. Yet the same scene exposes the truth: behind him stand rows of “fresh meat”, ready to replace him the moment his body breaks or his aura fades. Fighters were not nurtured as athletes or honored as artists; they were consumed like rations in a machine that never stops feeding. His career, far from proof of fate or talent alone, was a treadmill built by others — one that guaranteed collapse. That is why his “invitation” from the CEO was less an opportunity than a pitfall. (chapter 69) The danger lay in the very identity of his next challenger. If they pitted him against a newcomer who had rocketed through the ranks as quickly as Baek Junmin once did (chapter 47), the outcome was already poisoned.

Should Jaekyung win, the victory would be dismissed: he had chosen an easy opponent, feeding the narrative that he no longer belonged at the top. Should he be paired with a strong opponent, they expect him to lose, for he has just been surged. So should he lose, the humiliation would be absolute — proof that his era was over, his downfall sealed. And even a tie would work against him, just as before: no one would call it resilience; they would call it weakness, the inability to dominate. In every possible outcome, his worth would be diminished.

This is why Potato’s skepticism back in chapter 47 (chapter 47), questioning the selection of Baek Junmin, is so crucial. It shows that the manipulation of opponents was no accident — it was systemic. Matches were not about fair combat but about narrative management: making sure the emperor’s story served the company’s balance sheet.

The system leaves Jaekyung with only one real option: to step out of the spotlight. Every path inside the cage leads to diminishment — win, lose, or tie, the outcome is already poisoned. To remain would be to keep running on the treadmill until his body breaks, his title stripped, his name forgotten.

But there is another path, one the system cannot script: (chapter 75) to follow Dan into a different kind of life. For Jaekyung, this does not mean abandoning fighting altogether, but detaching it from the machinery of survival and spectacle. To fight not to silence ghosts or to feed companies, but because he chooses to. To discover that strength can exist outside the ring.

This is where the tender mirror matters. In Dan’s steady presence, Jaekyung catches a glimpse of the self he has never allowed himself to become: not just wolf, not just champion, but a man capable of rest, of connection, of living beyond ritual. Where the system shows him only exploitation, the mirror reflects possibility. He will discover the advantages of “vulnerability and childhood”: fun and enjoy the present.

The system can strip him of titles, twist his image, discard his body. But what it cannot erase is the possibility of choosing a different path, like for example fight for fun and act as a real director of a gym!

The Empty Champion

The façade cracked with the tie against Baek Junmin. (chapter 51) On paper, it was a draw. In practice, it was soon reframed as a loss (chapter 57). By late August, Jaekyung had slipped to third place. (chapter 69) And strikingly, no one questioned it. Not Park Namwook, not the officials, not even Joo Jaekyung or the commentators who had once praised his streak. The silence was louder than any insult.

The title of “champion” — the very identity he had staked his survival on — was revealed as hollow. (chapter 75) Here, it looks like a mirror, but naturally it is a fake one. It was not earned with fists alone; it could be stripped, reassigned, reshaped at will. One tie, one whisper, one adjustment in the rankings, and the Night Emperor was dethroned without ceremony.

For Jaekyung, this revelation was more than professional disillusionment. It tore open the paradox of his childhood. Just as his mother’s absence had turned victory into rejection, the system now proved that even championships carried no safety. He could win endlessly and still be discarded. He could bleed, sweat, endure, and still be branded as replaceable.

The belt was supposed to erase the insult “loser.” Instead, it exposed how fragile identity remained when it depended on others’ recognition. He had built a kingdom on rituals, and the first storm revealed it was sand.

The Cry of Exhaustion

When Jaekyung finally mutters, “I can’t take it anymore” (chapter 69), the choice of words is crucial. He does not say “I can’t do it anymore” — as though it were a matter of strength or skill — but take. This single verb reveals the deeper structure of his life. He has lived not by creating or belonging, but by enduring and consuming.

To take meant many things for him:

  • to take blows in the ring, as though punishment were the measure of his worth;
  • to take orders from coaches and managers, their words absorbed as commands rather than care;
  • to take the belt, the money, the fame, without ever finding nourishment in them;
  • to take on guilt and abandonment, carrying weights that were never his to bear.

Even his jinx rituals repeat this same pattern. Each is an act of taking:

  • Milk — taking liquid into his body (chapter 75), ritualizing hunger that had once been real deprivation.
  • Sex — taking another’s body as a vessel (chapter 75), not for intimacy but to clear his head and stave off loneliness, emptiness and his abandonment issues.
  • Perfume — taking a scent (chapter 75), masking shame by cloaking himself in armor.
  • Tattoos — taking pain into his skin, as if engraving scars could grant permanence.

None of these rituals is about giving, sharing, or being. They are substitutions, attempts to fill a void. He consumes and endures, but he never rests. Survival by taking is not the same as living.

That is why the sentence “I can’t take it anymore” is more than a cry of exhaustion. It is a refusal of the very economy that has defined him: the endless cycle of taking, absorbing, enduring. The belt, the fights, the rituals — they have all lost their power to silence the ghosts. His body cracks under the weight, and his soul confesses what his will has long denied: that survival without belonging is hollow.

Here begins the possibility of a new mode of existence. Not taking, but being. Not absorbing endlessly, but inhabiting presence. And this is what Dan embodies. Where Jaekyung has lived by taking, Dan offers constancy — a presence that does not vanish, a tenderness that does not demand. The mirror he holds up makes Jaekyung’s cry not merely one of collapse, but of awakening. It signals a desire to step out of the hollow cycle of taking, and toward the possibility of being — not a “champion,” not a “loser,” but simply himself. (chapter 75) The problem is that in his dream of belonging, the champion is not present yet. He hovers at the edges of his own life, like a ghost, repeating rituals that anchor him to absence rather than connection. He exists in fragments — as fighter, as brand, as body — but not yet as a whole person. To become present, he must learn not only to abandon the logic of taking, but to enter the world of giving and receiving, where presence is shared rather than consumed. His later vow (chapter 75) must be read in this light. It is not a relapse into the system’s treadmill, nor a blind return to the pitfall laid before him. Notice that he does not say he will fight in the fall, nor does he mention the upcoming match that everyone else is waiting for. (chapter 71) Instead, he frames his goal with a word that changes everything: reclaim.

Reclaiming is not the same as taking. It implies agency, choice, and even memory — an effort to retrieve something that was stolen or hollowed out, and to give it new meaning. Here, Jaekyung is no longer the body endlessly used by the system, nor the boy who clung to rituals of survival. He is beginning to define his own ground. The belt may still be the symbol, but what he seeks is not its material shine; it is the authority to say: this is mine because I chose it, not because it was forced on me.

This subtle shift is the fruit of the tender mirror. Through Dan’s presence, Jaekyung glimpses that fighting can be more than compulsion, more than survival — it can be chosen, and it can be shared. His declaration to “reclaim” is thus less about the system’s title than about carving a new relation to himself: no longer the orphan boy trapped in taking, but the man who begins to act, even falteringly, from his own will.

The Tie as Inverted Trauma

And yet, within the Baek Junmin fight lies a paradoxical seed of transformation. The tie (chapter 51) repeats the structure of his childhood trauma but in inverted form.

Then he won the match (chapter 73), but he lost his father and his mother abandoned him. (chapter 74) He lost his hope of a “home” for good.
Now: he tied the match, but he is the one who criticized the doctor. Though he didn’t lose his gym, he pushed doc Dan away and the latter chose to quit.

Then: he was silenced, (chapter 73) branded a loser without reply. His words — “I’ll leave this dump” — were thrown back at him as “loser.” The insult froze him in place. He could not defend himself, could not reply, could not demand to be understood. His father’s judgment became law, sealed by death. To speak further would have meant betraying him, to stay silent meant carrying the curse. The boy’s voice was extinguished before it ever found strength.

In the locker room with Dan, Jaekyung is no longer mute. (chapter 51) When his world threatened to collapse again — the tie with Baek Junmin, the looming humiliation — he erupted in rage. He screamed at Dan, he let the words spill out violently, breaking the silence that had once shackled him. It was an act of defiance against the curse: if he could not silence the nightmare, he would shout it down.

But here lies the decisive contrast: unlike his father, Dan does not reply with insult. He does not brand him, erase him, or abandon him. Instead, he disarms him with a single, piercing question: “Don’t you trust me?” (chapter 54) That moment reverses the old script entirely. Where his father’s last word was condemnation, Dan’s is invitation. Where his father’s voice ended the dialogue forever, Dan opens one. Where his father made trust impossible, Dan asks for it. Besides, the latter encouraged him to reflect on himself.

The locker room clash thus marks more than anger — it is the birth of a new possibility. Jaekyung is no longer the boy silenced by judgment, but the man whose rage meets not insult, but a chance at trust. (chapter 51) The mirror is clear: the cycle can be broken, but only if he dares to answer the question that was never asked of him before. Therefore it is not surprising that the physical therapist’s question appeared in the champion’s vision: (chapter 54) His unconscious was telling him to have faith in his “doctor”. Thus later, the champion told the director of the hospital this: (chapter 61) He was acknowledging the main lead as a real physical therapist.

The tie created a strange neutral space, neither victory nor defeat, where change became possible. Losing the belt was not only humiliation; it was a disruption of the old cycle. A chance to redefine what fighting could mean.If the first trauma bound him forever to the word “loser,” the second pointed toward another possibility: to lose a title, but to gain, at last, a home and even a partner!

The Mirror Clouded By Silence

Like mentioned above, readers may think that by chapter 75 the mystery of the jinx is solved. The protagonist finally names it, recounts his five losses, confesses the nightmares of his father, and admits to the strange bargain of sex as ritual (chapter 75). The wolf speaks — and the silence seems broken. But this is only the surface. The confession gives the illusion of truth while concealing how much remains unspoken. How so? It is because this confession changes everything. It reframes the past.

For in reality, Jaekyung has never revealed the whole architecture of his jinx to anyone. To the outside world, (chapter 62)— and even to those closest to his body — it looks like nothing more than sex. That was all the uke from chapter 2 saw, and it was enough for him to sneer: (chapter 2) The insult landed with devastating familiarity, not as a new wound but as an echo of his father’s curse: “loser.” Both words reduced Jaekyung to nothing — not a man, not an athlete, just a fraud kept alive by crutches.

This is why Jaekyung’s violent outburst was so extreme. (chapter 2) In slamming his former partner against the wall, he was not merely silencing a lover’s cruelty. He was fighting the ghost of his father, the voice that had branded him weak, cursed, unworthy. The jinx that kept him alive was being twisted into proof of his failure, and he could not bear it. (chapter 2)

But Dan, too, repeats this misrecognition, though with none of the malice. In chapter 62, when Jaekyung asked to return to their routine and another aspect of the jinx (chapter 62), Dan recoiled. (chapter 62) To him, “jinx” meant objectification, a reduction of their bond to sex. (chapter 62) He could not know that behind the word was an entire architecture of rituals — milk, perfume, tattoos, scars — all the desperate scaffolding Jaekyung had built to survive. Like mentioned above, by the time of chapter 62, Jaekyung already valued Kim Dan not just as a body to “use” (chapter 62) but as a therapist he trusted. His words about wanting to return to the “usual pre-match routine” (chapter 62) were, in his mind, a way of saying: I need you to bring back wholeness, to help me steady myself again. But because Dan only knew fragments of the jinx, the message landed with devastating distortion.

To Dan, “pre-match routine” meant sex. He knew about that ritual, maybe also the glass of milk — (chapter 41) but not the others. He had never seen how layered and fragmented Jaekyung’s survival system truly was: the shower and perfume, the milk, the tattoos, the obsessive fight schedule. Thus, when Jaekyung invoked the jinx, Dan heard only objectification: you want me for my body. However, this is not what the “wolf” meant. Thus he got surprised by such a statement. (chapter 62) For Jaekyung, the plea was about coherence; for Dan, it sounded like reduction.

This is why Dan recoils, saying bitterly that he should have known Jaekyung “only wanted my body.” Both men were speaking from wounds — but past each other. Jaekyung was reaching for stability, Dan was defending his dignity. The gulf between them was not lack of care but lack of shared knowledge.

Food as Silent Ritual

This gap becomes especially poignant when we look at the food scenes. Because Dan doesn’t know the full set of rituals, he instinctively replaces them. (chapter 22) He cooks breakfast for Jaekyung, offering something warm, homemade, human — a substitute for the cold, industrial glass of milk. (chapter 75) Naturally, he must have noticed the glass of milk each morning, but the physical therapist thought that this beverage was just the expression of the champion’s taste. He never saw it as a part of the ritual. In cooking so, he unconsciously takes over not only the role of the nutritionist, but also of the “family”. That’s the reason why Joo Jaekyung got so moved, though he did not smile (chapter 22) or cry out of joy.

We see the contrast after the doctor’s vanishing: Jaekyung, alone, eats food mechanically, (chapter 54) throws the plate away (chapter 54), or sits at a vast table in silence. (chapter 54) But when Dan cooks, Jaekyung is surprised, even touched. For once, nourishment is not consumption but connection. The milk was always a disguised memory of deprivation; Dan’s meal becomes the antidote — food as presence. So for him, the prematch-routine was also referring to the meals prepared by his fated partner. And I feel the need to bring another aspect. Since there was no “family” in the athlete’s life, he never got the chance to discover the joy of the table. (chapter 22) Hence it is not surprising that he looked at his phone, while the others were eating and discussing. He never had a real conversation with a family member around the table.

The Hidden Scent

Another layer is scent. (chapter 40) Perfume was one of Jaekyung’s protective rituals — masking shame, creating an armor against the memory of bullying and ridicule. Yet Dan shows that none of this is necessary. The panel where he clings to the bedsheets after their Summer Night’s Dream together (chapter 45), whispering that he misses Jaekyung’s warmth, reveals that the champion’s natural scent is already enough. He never gets to see this — Jaekyung doesn’t know how deeply Dan treasures his smell.

This is critical: Dan unconsciously redeems the rituals. He replaces milk with food, perfume with genuine warmth, mechanical sex with an act that stirs tenderness. But because Jaekyung doesn’t articulate his system, Dan cannot recognize what he is undoing. The mirror is already working, but the reflection is clouded. And this leads me to another observation. His rituals had already been affected by doc Dan’s presence, but the latter never realized it! Joo Jaekyung returned to his lover’s side after the shower and perfume! (chapter 40) Here he turned around and placed his lover in the middle of the bed. He even let him rest.

Why Only Mention Sex?

A lingering question remains: why does Jaekyung mention only sex in this conversation (chapter 2), and not the other rituals? Because to admit the rest would be to expose the origin of the jinx: the father’s insult, the mother’s abandonment, the hunger, the bullying. Sex was the only ritual that could be spoken without directly dragging the past into the room. It was the “safe” shorthand — though tragically, it became the most dangerous. Homosexuality is definitely a stigma among boxers and MMA fighters.

By limiting his words to sex, Jaekyung avoided revisiting trauma, but in doing so, he doomed the conversation to collapse. He reached for the mirror, but without naming his scars, the reflection became distorted.

A Mirror of Wounds

Chapter 62 therefore stages one of the most painful paradoxes in Jinx: Dan is already healing Jaekyung’s rituals without realizing it. But because he doesn’t know the full picture, he interprets the champion’s plea as exploitation. Interesting is that in this confrontation, something crucial happens. (chapter 62) Dan’s reproach is not framed in the language of the ring. He does not call Jaekyung weak, a loser, or unfit — the very vocabulary that had haunted the champion since his father’s curse and that others (uke, press, rivals) recycled against him. Instead, Dan’s words land on an entirely different plane: “I should’ve known… that you only wanted me for my body.”

This is not an insult to the protagonist as a fighter. It is a wound as a man. The complaint does not echo his father’s verdict but indicts his coldness, his selfishness, his inability to show care. Where the old trauma was about being branded unworthy of victory, Dan’s reproach is about being unworthy of intimacy.

That difference matters. For the first time, the athlete is not being told he cannot fight; he is being told he cannot love. He doesn’t care! The battlefield shifts. What once was survival inside the cage is now survival outside of it — the fight to be recognized, not as “Emperor,” but as a partner capable of connection. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the champion tried to take care of his fated partner! (chapter 68) In his own way, he was showing him that he did care! He was more than just a body… or even a physical therapist!!

Here the mirror metaphor sharpens: Jaekyung sees himself through Dan, but Dan only sees part of him due to his “secrecy” and silence. Until both fragments meet — the rituals revealed, the care recognized — the mirror cannot reflect the whole.

The Tender Mirror: Dan’s Role

If the jinx was born in silence — the father’s insult, the mother’s disappearance, the system’s exploitation — then its undoing begins in silence as well. But this time, the silence is not absence. It is observation and presence. (chapter 35) It is the steady mirror of Kim Dan.

From the very beginning, their dynamic was framed in asymmetry. In Season 1, Jaekyung appeared as the unshakable adult, even the father-figure: towering, dominant, controlling every space he entered. Dan, in contrast, was cast as the child (chapter 13) — helpless, cornered, often pleading. Thus the champion taught the doctor to overcome his fear and fight back: (chapter 26) This imbalance was no accident. It replayed Jaekyung’s own childhood roles: he became what his father had been to him (the better version naturally, for he is the mirror of truth), and forced Dan into the position he had once held himself. Through Dan, Jaekyung unconsciously re-enacted his trauma, reversing their positions as if to master what had once mastered him. That way, he was pushed to mature emotionally! That’s why he could connect with the main lead unconsciously. His trembling words in Chapter 51 (chapter 51) were the expression of a desire for recognition and acceptance. Thus the request from the champion (chapter 51) should be seen as the separation between a “father” and “son”.

But Season 2 begins to fracture this arrangement. Slowly, Dan ceases to be the terrified child. Instead, he resembles more to the adolescent. He can not grasp his own behavior. (chapter 71) He believes to know the truth, while he is ignorant. He is insecure, extreme in his behavior (drinking) (chapter 71), but also selfish and questioning, still fragile yet capable of protest. He is struggling with his own emotions and thoughts. (chapter 71) How can he trust the athlete, when he doubts himself so much? From my point of view, he is on the verge of become “mature mentally” and as such “responsible”. At the same time, Jaekyung is revealed as the adult in crisis. His exhaustion (Chapter 69) strips away the illusion of invulnerability. The wolf, once a figure of brute survival, begins to look more like a cornered animal, uncertain whether to fight or collapse. And observe that now the champion is having a cold, like a small “child”! (chapter 70)

Gradually, their roles shift again. Thus I deduce that Dan is about to take care of Jaekyung. But not as his “father”… but as his hyung! (chapter 74) It is because thanks to the director’s confession, the “hamster” is able to see the champion as a “a kindred spirit“, an orphan and as such as the younger “boy”.

This is why the possibility of “hyung” is so radical. The word collapses categories that Jaekyung has always kept apart: dependence and respect, family and intimacy, protection and confession. To call Dan “hyung” would be to admit need without shame, to claim family without fear of betrayal. He would become now a part of “Joo Jaekyung’s team”. It would be, in essence, the reversal of the father’s insult “loser.” Where “loser” condemned him to isolation, “hyung” would admit him into belonging. Through this single word, the curse could be undone. At the same time, it would announce the end of Park Namwook’s ruling. Finally, let’s not forget that in episode 7, the physical therapist was introduced as “hyung” to the other fighters. (chapter 7)

Toward Redefinition: Fighting as Fun

When the director whispered to Jaekyung to “find a new purpose,” it was not only advice — it was prophecy. (chapter The purpose he had clung to until now had already rotted. Victory no longer silenced his ghosts. Belts no longer secured belonging. Titles could be stripped at will. Even his rituals had begun to betray him, his body collapsing into illness (headache, insomnia) after Doc Dan left his side. What remained was emptiness.

But emptiness is also possibility.

For Jaekyung, the redefinition of fighting begins with a shift from having to being. Until now, his life was driven by the mode of having: having titles, having opponents, having sex, having rituals to take the edge off. Even his exhausted cry in Chapter 69 — “I can’t take it anymore” — reveals this logic. What he can no longer endure are the burdens of having: the blows, the obligations, the belt that weighs more than it rewards. His rituals, too, were all about taking — taking milk, taking a body, taking perfume, taking tattoos. They filled emptiness for a moment but never answered it.

To become present, he must enter another mode: not having, but being. Being in the fight, being in connection, being in the moment. Fighting not to silence ghosts or to feed a machine, but because it is fun (chapter 26), because it is play, because it is chosen.

This redefinition is not foreign to combat. At its root, martial arts were always more than survival. They were practice, discipline, sometimes even dance. But Jaekyung had never been allowed to experience them that way. For him, the cage was always a replay of childhood — fists against ghosts, survival against abandonment. To rediscover fighting as fun is not regression but liberation: a way of reclaiming what was stolen from him, the joy of movement, the thrill of competition without the terror of loss. That way, the rituals lose their meanings.

The hug in Chapter 69 marks the pivot. Here Jaekyung embraces Dan not as therapist or tool, but as man to man. (chapter 69) It is not about treatment or jinx, but about presence. This hug reframes the meaning of strength. True strength is not the ability to fight endlessly, but the ability to hold and be held, to mirror” is like touching oneself! Let’s not forget that the mirror represents the reflection of a person. Respecting the physical therapist signifies respecting oneself!

And this is where the future possibility of “hyung” matters. To call Dan hyung would mean accepting him not as ritual but as family. It would mean that fighting is no longer about proving oneself against ghosts but about sharing life with another. To fight as fun is to fight with nothing to prove, no curse to outrun, no insult to erase. It is to enter the ring not for survival, but for joy.

Conclusion – From Loser to Hyung

The arc of Jaekyung’s life can now be seen in its full sweep:

  • Seed: the father’s insult, the mother’s abandonment. He views himself as a loser deep down! Thus we should see this as a self-deception. (chapter 75) He was confronted with reality after the match with Baek Junmin. The manager slapped him, Potato criticized him, the medias portrayed him as reckless! His wealth or his fame could never erase his self-loathing.
  • Growth: the system’s exploitation, the rush to the top.
  • Mask: the rituals of the jinx — sex, milk, perfume, tattoos.
  • Crisis: collapse in Chapter 75 — the 5 losses, insomnia, nightmares, tie, illness.
  • Counterforce: Dan’s presence as tender mirror.
  • Redefinition: fighting as joy, family instead of fresh meat.

In this arc, the wolf is transformed. The boy branded a loser, who built armor out of rituals and clawed his way to titles, now stands before the tender mirror. There, at last, he sees a reflection not of ghosts but of life. (chapter 75) He discovers that strength does not mean enduring forever alone, but allowing oneself to need, to ask, to belong. Besides, having a partner implies that the latter has his back!

The final reversal is simple yet profound. Once, Jaekyung believed survival meant taking: blows, titles, bodies, rituals. Now he begins to see that life means giving and receiving. The wolf’s true victory will not be another belt but another word: hyung.

In that word, everything is reversed. The father’s insult “loser” is silenced. The mother’s abandonment is answered. The system’s exploitation is refused. And the wolf, no longer a cursed emperor, becomes simply a man — fighting not for survival, but for life. And that’s how he can escape the trap from the schemers, for the latter only knows one form of the jinx: sex! Besides,thanks to his loved one, he is able to gain peace of mind. From that moment on, no one can provoke him like in the past. (chapter 36) He can remain indifferent to their “provocations”, as he has long matured emotionally. (chapter 36) He can retaliate differently. With his money and power, he can prove to them, he is no loser!

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

Jinx: I Love You 💗📞

Introduction The First “I Love You” He Sees

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

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

Then he jolts awake. (chapter 75) His eyes open after the dream, and they open to the same light. It’s the opposite of every earlier awakening (chapter 54) —no gasp for air, no clutching his throat (chapter 75), no father’s voice strangling him. This sudden awakening embodies enlightenment. (chapter 75) This is the first time he escapes his inner prison: no strangling, no mockery, no gasping for breath. The sequence is everything: the vision symbolizes true awakening. First comes the dream of the future, then the breath of life.

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

And here the director’s advice echoes: (chapter 75) On the surface, it sounds like a call for balance. In truth, it is a suggestion to find another meaning for his life. And look at the director’s facial expression, when he is talking to his former student: “ (chapter 75) He is smiling, a sign that the director is enjoying this moment with the “wolf”. He becomes the first person to speak to Jaekyung not about titles, not about survival, but about happiness.

Yet one might wonder: why does Hwang Byungchul not mention Dan directly? It is clear that he has already sensed that both have a deeper relationship than one between a physical therapist and a VIP client. (chapter 70) He knows the athlete from the past. The latter was attached to people and not to places. Why does he speak of “something” rather than “someone”, if he knows? The lesson is not about fixing a new goal or object to chase, but about discovering how to live differently — how to live happily. (chapter 75) The word something points beyond possession. True fulfillment is not about having a purpose but about sharing a path. Secondly, by remaining vague, he respects his former pupil’s privacy. A parent would never try to pry into the relationship of their child. (chapter 65)

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

Yet Jaekyung cannot name it. His reaction trails into ellipses (chapter 75). Even before, he could only mutter to himself this: (chapter 70) The negation indicates denial, but observe that he couldn’t even use a noun. He cannot yet translate this vision into words, because he has never heard “I love you” himself (chapter 39). The only one he heard was diminished to a mistake (chapter 41), and doc Dan claims to have no recollection of it. His father left him with mockery, his mother with resignation, his coach in the past with discipline, the grandmother-figures with burdens (honor, debt, favor). (chapter 74) No one ever taught him how to say I love you. And so, when Dan appears in his dream, it is not the words that free him but the gaze. (chapter 75) Dan’s expression is neutral, non-judgmental, steady — the exact opposite of the father’s disdain (chapter 75) or the mother’s withdrawal. (chapter 73) It does not condemn, it does not demand; it simply waits. The gaze says this: I see you and accept you.

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

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

This stands in direct opposition to the grandmother’s stance, who knew exactly how to “treat” doc Dan. (chapter 65) (chapter 65) Halmoni believed she already knew the solution to Dan’s suffering: sacrifice yourself, work hard, pay the debts or make money, endure. She closed off alternatives by imposing her narrative on him. Her love was distorted into certainty. The director, by contrast, recognizes the limit of his role. He has learned (belatedly) that he cannot dictate meaning for someone else. Instead, he tells Jaekyung: (chapter 75) His love is expressed through humility — through not knowing. At the same time, his words and facial expression ooze trust and confidence. (chapter 75) In other words, the director becomes not just a critic of Jaekyung’s path, but his first true encourager. He acknowledges that the boy he once failed to guide has grown into a man capable of guiding himself.

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

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

The Language He Never Learned

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

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

The Father’s Curse: Mockery Instead of Affirmation

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

This is why victory became his obsession. (chapter 75) Each title, each belt, each triumph was a rebuttal to his father’s words. He was not worthless, not doomed. Yet the irony is cruel: in fighting to silence those curses (chapter 75), he bound himself ever more tightly to them. Winning never brought peace; it only bought him momentary quiet from the voices in his head. This confession from the main lead confirmed my previous interpretations. First, the main lead had been constantly hearing voices in his head. Secondly, the hamster embodies “sound”, but a different kind: true communication linked to honesty and affection. This explicates why after the couch confession (chapter 29), Joo Jaekyung opened up a little to doc Dan! Thus the next morning, he visited the bathroom where doc Dan was! (chapter 30) It was just an excuse to spend more time with his fated partner.

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

If the father wounded with curses, the mother wounded with silence. (chapter 73) In the father’s recollection, she is shown turned away, holding the child not in tenderness but as a shield against her husband. She does not speak. There is no tap (chapter 74), no “dear,” no “I love you.” In the father’s memory, she used the child as an excuse to distance herself from her spouse. In that moment, Jaekyung is not a son to be cherished but a barrier in an adult quarrel.

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

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

Here Erich Fromm’s distinction between having and being illuminates her behavior. [For more read the essay “The Art Of Loving”– locked] She cannot love by being present with another; she can only love by having something to hold onto — a husband, a child, a household. For Jaekyung, this meant that his very existence was never affirmed. When he outgrew dependency, he ceased to “count.” He embodied a failure in her life, something she wanted to erase. Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why Kim Dan challenged the champion in the hotel room: (chapter 67) His question is really an appeal for recognition. If Jaekyung answered yes, Dan could interpret it as proof of love, because in his own distorted framework being worried about equals being cared for. But Jaekyung answered with silence. (chapter 67) Not because he felt nothing, but because he lacked the language to connect worry with love. In his conscious mind, conception of care was still bound to usefulness — Dan mattered because he was needed for training, not because he was loved as himself, while deep down, he had already moved beyond this aspect. He was just in denial in this scene,

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

The Phone Call: “Who Are You?”

Nothing illustrates this more starkly than the phone call. When Jaekyung reaches out as a teenager, his mother responds: (chapter 74) On one level, she does not recognize his voice. But on a deeper level, her words ring as truth: she does not know her son. She has no idea who he has become, what defines him, what characterizes him beyond money and survival.

And tragically, Jaekyung falls into the same trap. He offers her money (chapter 74), promising to provide for her if she returns home. He unconsciously appeals to the only logic he has ever known: that love equals provision, that affection is secured by usefulness.

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

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

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

Trash as Metaphor: The Child Discarded

Her abandoned home, strewn with garbage, (chapter 72) becomes the perfect metaphor for her treatment of him. Once she no longer needed him, he was discarded like refuse. Just as trash cannot be reclaimed by sentimental value, she will not be able to reclaim him later through appeals to blood ties or belated need. It is impossible because he has learned — painfully — that true love is not about what you have, but about who you are.

Her tragedy is repetition. The remarriage, the second child, the affectionate taps and “dears” — all of it looks like growth on the surface (chapter 74), but in truth it reveals her imprisonment in the same mindset. She has not changed. She still defines herself by being needed, by having. She lives through others. And Jaekyung, by recognizing this, gains his first real emancipation. That’s why he destroyed the cellphone. (chapter 74) He understood that the words he longed for as a child were never simply withheld — they never existed. Since we saw her back and heard her voice, I don’t think, she truly cut off ties with Joo Jaekyung. Why? It is because she had no intention to change her phone number again. (chapter 74) She expected him to follow her request. I can definitely imagine her trying to reconnect with Joo Jaekyung, the moment he became a celebrity. (chapter 75) Keep in mind that we have these mysterious phone calls: (chapter 37) (chapter 43) (chapter 49)

Park Namwook: I’ll help you

Into this pattern steps Park Namwook, who initially cloaked his ambition in the language of encouragement. (chapter 75) (chapter 75) On the surface, these sound like support. He smiles, his tone is warm, his words echo the vocabulary of friendship. Yet this false promise had lasting consequences: it reinforced a pattern already planted by the champion’s mother. Since childhood, Jaekyung had equated helping with caring (chapter 72), because silence at home had taught him that the only way to hold on to love was to provide, protect, and prove his usefulness. Under Namwook, this belief hardened into a rule: in his world, attachment became synonymous with utility.

This distortion explains much of Jaekyung’s later behavior. If someone claims to love, they must prove it through tangible action. Affection that doesn’t translate into help feels like a lie. Because Heesung mentioned “loving” Dan (chapter 34), Jaekyung assumed later that the actor would have helped doc Dan to hide. (chapter 58) His violent intrusion into the actor’s home was the natural outgrowth of Namwook’s teaching: if love is real, it must show itself as service.

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

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

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

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

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

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

At this point, one must ask: why didn’t the director, Hwang Byungchul, say those words either? The answer is not that he feels nothing, but first he fears exposing his vulnerability and emotions. Therefore he yelled and challenged the champion. (chapter 71) Yet, deep down, he was happy that Joo Jaekyung had visited him and even spent the whole day with him. Secondly, for him, too, love has always been expressed through responsibility, advice, and correction rather than direct declaration. When he tells Jaekyung to “look around” and “think hard,” or warns Dan to “ (chapter 70) “stay sharp,” he is not being cold — he is speaking from the only framework of love he knows: respect, knowledge, care, and responsibility, the very dimensions Erich Fromm outlines. He realized too late that he missed Joo Jaekyung very much. His love is embedded in actions and words of guidance, not in sentimental speech. To suddenly say “I love you” would, in his own register, feel shallow and false. He actually embodies the “real parent” IMO, because contrary to all the others adults, he learned from his mistakes. No parent is perfect, but they need to reflect on their words and actions. Learning through experiences is lifelong learning. It stops with death. The director did his best according to the circumstances and tried to correct his wrongdoings. And we can see his influence in the champion’s life. When it comes to doc Dan, he also makes mistakes: (chapter 68) (chapter 69) (chapter 69) And that’s what makes him so human.

In this sense, the director and Jaekyung are alike: both have never learned the language of love as affirmation. They can only circle it through substitution — advice, provision, worry, discipline, help. (chapter 71) Hence doc Dan didn’t resent the champion for his harsh treatment. But unlike the mother, who equated love with possession, Hwang Byungchul has begun to correct himself. He respects Jaekyung’s privacy, he encourages instead of dictating, he models a love that is belated but still real. This opens the possibility that Jaekyung, too, may learn to fill his silences differently — not with dominance or provision, but with genuine presence. He truly embodies the philosophy from Erich Fromm: it is never too late to become happy! Hence he smiled on the rooftop! (chapter 75) No wonder why he asked for doc Dan’s company. (chapter 71) This means that he lives now in the present. It looks like the “old coot” has been tamed by the “gentle hamster or duck”.

The Silence He Must Fill

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

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

The Language Kim Dan Cannot Speak

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

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

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

My reading is that Dan’s parents died suddenly, perhaps by suicide, and with them he lost not only family but also home. (chapter 65) We know he once had toys (teddy bear,car) (chapter 21) , little signs of comfort that suggest he grew up in relative security, even if his parents were often absent for work. For me, his childhood was not defined only by poverty but by rupture: love was present, then violently cut short. To a child, such a disappearance feels like betrayal, even if it was no one’s fault. Dan would have been left with a terrible contradiction — that “I love you” was true, and yet those who said it abandoned him forever.

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

Chapter 66 dramatizes this curse in full force. In his sleep, Dan clings to Jaekyung’s shirt (chapter 66), whispers through tears (chapter 66) and then breaks down with (chapter 66) These are not declarations of love, but desperate substitutes — fragments of the words he could never utter in childhood. They expose the precise gap: he never managed to say back what had once been said to him. He had lost his parents too soon. Instead of “I love you too,” what emerges is fear of abandonment. Instead of reciprocity, there is only pleading. His grip on Jaekyung’s shirt is the physical translation of what he could not verbalize: the child’s attempt to hold onto someone who is already vanishing. (chapter 66) He regrets his passivity and silence. He has not been able to mourn them.

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

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

Dan’s grandmother never understood this. She assumed that because she spent all her time with him (chapter 65), the boy had not developed such a deep attachment to his parents. Thus she imagined, she could erase their absence. She conflated sacrifice with love, debt with affection. Yet what he received from her was not the warmth of a parent, but the burden of endurance. She patted (chapter 57) and caressed him with her hand, but the kiss in chapter 44 reveals something different: (chapter 44) Dan once received love of a different kind — playful and tender. A kiss cannot have come from the grandmother, who expressed affection only in gestures of care, never of intimacy. That kiss belongs to his mother.

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

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

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

  • Never saved money. Because deep down, money symbolized the burden that crushed his parents. To him, money is linked with guilt and loss, not freedom. Why save what only brings ruin? Every coin tucked away echoes the debts that swallowed his family.
  • Not interested in friends. Friendships mean attachment, and attachment means risk of loss. If “I love you” from his mother ended in abandonment, then investing emotionally in others would feel too dangerous. Better to stay isolated, to keep the pain at bay. Besides, he experienced bullying, reinforcing his isolation.
  • Accepted grandmother’s passivity. Her silence mirrored his own coping strategy: if you don’t hope, you can’t be hurt. He didn’t rebel because her inertia fit his trauma — a life stripped of dreams is safer than a dream that can collapse. At the same time, it explains why he attached himself to her, did everything for her… it is because he knows what love is. (chapter 65)
  • Couldn’t accept presents. Because gifts symbolize care and generosity (chapter 31)— which he associates with unbearable debt. His mother’s final “gift” of love was one he could never repay. Any present risks reopening that wound: “What if I can’t repay this? What if I lose them too?”

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

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

The End Of The Curse

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

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

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

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

Notice the timing. When Jaekyung jolts awake, (chapter 75) the room is still dark. Yet in a previous chapter, we heard birds singing at dawn (chapter 74) — the quiet sign that the sun is about to rise. Dawn is not just a natural detail in Jinx; it is a symbolic hinge. It is the moment when night meets day, when moon and sun overlap, when endings bleed into beginnings. In myth and fairy tale, dawn often marks metamorphosis: the Little Mermaid turns to foam, the enchanted sleepers awaken, the beast becomes a prince. For Jaekyung, too, dawn is the threshold. His father cursed him at dawn (chapter 73), stripping him of worth, tying the rising sun to shame. But in this new dawn, another voice will have to intervene. Only Dan can replace the curse with a blessing. Only “I love you” can undo “you are not special.” And if it is not “I love You”, then it could be a kiss, the symbol of “affection”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This brings us back to my point about quantity versus quality. Namwook has been by Jaekyung’s side for years. (chapter 75) He was always there — arranging his matches, covering his problems, whispering about his “future.” Yet the quality of his presence was hollow. He never once guided Jaekyung beyond his father’s curse, never helped him imagine a life beyond titles. Thus he never discovered that the “monster” was suffering from insomnia. (chapter 75) His companionship was measured in duration, not depth.

By contrast, Dan has been present for only a fraction of that time (4 months). Yet in those brief encounters, he has done what Namwook never could: he has listened, waited, cared. He has offered no manipulation, no bargain, no shadowed whisper — only a quiet inclusion (chapter 41), an invitation to walk together. Namwook’s long presence embodies the trap of quantity without substance. Dan’s brief but luminous presence reveals the power of quality: the kind of attention that transforms.

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

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

The breaking of the curse will not only free Jaekyung from his father’s voice — it will also free him from the tyranny of time. (chapter 29) Under the curse, his whole life has been a frantic race: prove himself, fight again, silence the noise in his head. (chapter 75) Namwook’s whispers, too, keep him chained to that rhythm of urgency — rankings, titles, deadlines. But once Dan’s whisper replaces Namwook’s, time itself shifts. The future is no longer a debt to repay but a horizon to approach slowly, hand in hand.

That change means he can finally rest. And when one rests, the present opens up. The little things, so long ignored, become sources of joy. This is exactly what we glimpsed in chapter 27: the rare day off. For once, Jaekyung did not fight, did not perform. He smiled (chapter 27), joked (chapter 27), even rediscovered his love for swimming. Water, his true element, was reclaimed as play rather than punishment. (chapter 27) That single day was a seed — a foreshadowing of what life might look like once the curse is broken for good.

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

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

Jinx: After All, Before It’s Too Late 🕚 📞

My avid readers might have been wondering why I haven’t released any new analysis yet. The reason is simple. I am back at school, and preparing lessons for my students had to come first. But when episode 74 was released, one detail immediately caught my attention. It was small, almost easy to overlook, yet the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to hold the key to understanding not only this chapter, but Joo Jaekyung’s entire story. 😮

So let me turn the question over to you. What is the common denominator between these three panels?

(chapter 73) (chapter 74) (chapter 74) What do they share? You might already have noticed it. At first glance, the answer seems obvious: each sentence turns around the word after. But if we pay closer attention, it is not just after that repeats, but after all. And here, the “all” quietly carries the weight of everything. A slight shift, but one that feels significant. But why this expression, and why here? Why does it resurface precisely in the context of Jaekyung’s family and past?

At first glance, after is nothing more than a temporal marker, a word of sequence. But in these sentences it feels heavier, almost final. It does not look forward — it looks backward. In other words, it doesn’t open a path; it shuts a door. And in episode 74 especially, it echoes like a refrain that has been defining the champion’s life. His world has always been framed in terms of after all. And this immediately raises another question: why did these people, so different in role and attitude, all use this idiom when addressing or describing the young champion?

But then—observe the contrast. When Joo Jaekyung embraced his fated partner, the words that rose within him were not about “after” but about “before.” (chapter 70) For the first time, the flow of time shifted. Besides, no explanation, no certainty—just an admission that something happened beyond his planning or reasoning. Where the earlier lines spoke with closure, this one arrived without a verdict. But what does this “confession” signify for the athlete now?

This is the mystery I want to unravel. What does “after all” truly embody in his life? Why has it shaped him so deeply, and why is the “before” so revolutionary when it finally appears? To answer these questions, I will proceed step by step: first examining the parents’ words, and finally the director’s cold repetition in episode 74. From there, I will turn to the symbolic role of the phone and its destruction, before concluding with the comparison between the manager and the grandmother—two figures who, each in their own way, perpetuate or challenge the cycle of “after.” And at the very end, I will return to the sentence that changes everything: (chapter 70)

The Parents’ After All

Joo Jaewoong’s Verdict

The first “after all” comes from the father: (ch. 73) At first glance, this might sound like a simple insult, a way to degrade the boy by comparing him to the woman who abandoned him. Yes, I wrote “him” and not them on purpose. Joo Jaewoong brought her up in direct response to his son, because the teenager had voiced his first wish in front of his “legal guardian”: (chapter 73) He was announcing his desire to leave this place, as if he wanted to abandon his father. Nevertheless, he just said it out of anger and frustration. Yet, those words pierced Joo Jaewoong, for they reminded him of his wife’s betrayal. Unable to face his own failures, he retaliated by thrusting her image back onto the boy. (chapter 73)

The staging is crucial. Father and son stand facing each other, (chapter 73) locked in confrontation, while in the past, the woman had already shown her back — a gesture of refusal that foreshadowed her desertion. She had withdrawn in silence; the man, however, lashed out in noise. Both abandon, but in different registers: hers in silence and absence, his in noise and abuse. But the father’s gaze was selective. (chapter 73) While he saw a mother holding a boy, he overlooked that the protagonist was actually clinching onto his own mother, who had already distanced herself from the child. In other words, he mistook rejection for embrace. What he perceived as proof of her influence was in fact the trace of her withdrawal.

Thus the father’s “after all” is more than a mere insult. It is an erasure. By shifting all blame to the absent mother, he buried his own wrongdoings. The bruises, the insults, the nights of terror (chapter 73) — all were rewritten into a story where the woman was the sole traitor, and the child nothing more than her extension. In this way, the boy was denied recognition as a victim in his own right. He had been abandoned too. He had been abused either. He became instead a mirror in which his father projects the wound of being left behind.

The tragedy is that this was Jaekyung’s first attempt at self-assertion in front of his father, his first voiced wish as a child. (chapter 73) And yet it was met not with listening and understanding, but with condemnation and mockery! (chapter 73) Why? It is because the father didn’t trust him, as he didn’t trust himself either! Because the father attacked him verbally, the boy replied in kind — escalating words he would later regret. (chapter 73) The cycle of reproach was sealed. From that moment on, he understood the danger and the destructive weight of words. (chapter 73) To speak was to wound, to be wounded in return. Besides, the boy could never speak of this truth. He carried the memory of that last conversation in silence, crushed by the belief that he bore guilt for his father’s death. Shame and responsibility bound his tongue. That is how words, once used against him as weapons, became impossible for him to wield in his own defense. However, this was only the beginning of his withdrawal into silence. His fists would become his language, his body the only safe instrument of reply.

In the end, the father was betrayed — not only by his wife, but by himself. (chapter 73) For in his world, there was no place for we, no place for a family. By reducing every bond to reproach and violence, he erased the very possibility of belonging. His after all thus becomes the verdict on his own life: a man left alone, responsible for his own misery. He complained the absence of gratitude from his son, while he had done nothing for him. (chapter 73) The betrayal he lamented was nothing more than the logical outcome of his own principle. There had never been a we — only a man clinging to his pride, a woman turning her back, and a child caught in between. His after all (chapter 73) exposes this rupture: instead of binding father and son, it isolates them, placing Jaekyung outside of any shared identity. By calling him “your mother’s son”, he does not recognize the boy as his own. The word becomes a substitute for “we,” a marker of distance rather than union. He also denies the very identity of his son: the boy is reduced to a reflection of the mother, and nothing more. In this moment, the child is stripped of individuality, framed only as an echo of the parent who had already left. For years afterward, this wound silenced him — until much later, when a reversal finally emerged. When Jaekyung embraced his fated partner, the words that rose within him began not with after all but with before I (chapter 70). Only then did he speak again as a person in his own right, expressing a wish unshaped by the verdicts of adults or the weight of guardianship. Thus he expressed his thoughts and emotions through the body.

The Mother’s Excuse

And it is precisely here that the mother enters the stage. If the father used after all to erase his own guilt and deny the possibility of togetherness, the mother confirms that distance with a final gesture (chapter 74) — not by facing her son, but by cutting him off, hiding behind a phone call and a single merciless click. (chapter 74)

The scene is loaded with irony. (chapter 74) In the past, the boy had dialed her number from the same public booth (chapter 72), clinging to the hope that she might answer one day. Eventually, those attempts ceased — but not the attachment. What remained was the number itself, saved under “Mom” on his phone (chapter 74) Here, he was old and rich enough to buy his own cellphone. The phone number was no longer a channel of communication, only a relic: a fragile thread he could not sever, because the fact that she never changed her number sustained the illusion that reunion was still possible. That dormant hope was shattered only when she finally picked up — not out of recognition, but by mistake, assuming the unfamiliar call must be important. (chapter 74) And so, after years of silence, his voice reached her at last.

What followed crushed him. She did not yell like the father; instead, she cloaked her rejection in polite detachment: (chapter 74) repeating “please” twice — not out of kindness, but because he had become a source of threat to her new life. (chapter 74) Her words, “please never call me again,” sealed the door he had long believed ajar.

What once seemed like a lifeline is revealed as evidence of her selfishness and cowardice (something I had already outlined before in The Loser’s  Mother: Fragments of a Mother), and the unchanged number, which kept him hoping, now exposes her duplicity. This is why remembering his past will not only free the champion, but also help him to move on. At the same time, it also set in motions a quiet karmic reckoning for the “mother,” whose very act of leaving the number unchanged betrays her. Interesting is that Joo Jaekyung is exactly like his mother: he has not changed his damaged cellphone and number either!! (chapter 66)

Her words presented abandonment as if it were a mutual choice (chapter 74), an agreement between equals. Yet, nothing could be further from the truth: the child had no choice, no power. Worse still, she used his own earlier words against him — the part-time jobs, the savings he had scraped together in order to welcome her back. Since he had money, he could keep living on his own. What for him had been a desperate declaration of love, for her became justification to let go: he was, in her eyes, already independent, already “grown-up.” (chapter 74) Only then comes her final blow: “After all, you’re all grown up now.” The position of after all here is crucial. (chapter 73) Unlike the father, who spat it at the end of his sentence as a weapon, the mother puts it first, as if it were the very foundation of her reasoning. Placed at the front, it functions like a gatekeeper — a barrier the son cannot pass through, because everything that matters has already happened before him.

In other words, she uses time itself as her excuse. (chapter 74) By saying after all, she makes his age and the passing years the justification for her betrayal. She turns maturity — the result of neglect and abandonment — into a pretext to abandon him further. In her mouth, time is not a healer but an alibi. For him, however, time is the enemy. Every night of waiting, every unanswered call accumulates into a debt that cannot be repaid. This is why, years later, Joo Jaekyung has been racing against time — as if by moving fast enough, by piling victory upon victory, he could undo the stillness of those years when nothing came back to him. His obsession with routine, with never stopping, mirrors the silent cruelty of her after all: if she made time the reason to let go, he would make time the proof that he never let go.

Here, the phrase does not simply refer to his age. All encompasses the totality of what she has built without him: her remarriage, her new family (her second child whom she calls “dear”), her wealth, (chapter 74) her present comfort. He stands after all of this — chronologically, emotionally, socially. In her reordered life, the child who once clung to her is relegated to the back of the line, behind every new bond she has chosen to recognize.

And yet, before uttering after all, she cloaks her rejection in seemingly gentle words: “Please understand… let’s just go our separate ways.” (chapter 74) At first glance, the sentence suggests civility, as if both parties had been walking the same road until now. But this is the deception. In truth, she had abandoned him long ago. This “family” (“our”) only existed in the boy’s mind, a dream born from her lies. For the mother, this “family” was already dismantled and replaced; for him, it was the one thing keeping hope alive. By phrasing it this way, she rewrites history, disguising her betrayal as a fresh, mutual decision rather than an old wound that never healed. The implication is that nothing was broken before — that only now, as adults, they might choose to part.

In doing so, she not only denies the rupture of the past, she also erases the promise that once tethered him to her. Why else would he plead, (chapter 74) unless she had once suggested that possibility? His words reveal that he had been clinging to a seed she planted long ago, a future she quietly abandoned while building a new life elsewhere. And what was that seed? Not just her vague suggestion that “once they have money”, or (chapter 72) “the father no longer represents a menace to her” but the very fact that she gave him her phone number. To a child, that number was more than digits on a page — it was proof of connection, a lifeline, an assurance that she could be reached, that she might one day answer.

But in reality, the number was a cruel illusion. She never changed it, which prolonged the fantasy that she still cared, that reunion was only a call away. Yet when the call was finally answered, it revealed not hope but finality. The “click” of her rejection was as violent as any blow from his father — the sound of a door closing forever.

Thus, her rejection is doubly violent: it crushes his final hope, that’s why the boy cried for the last time. (chapter 74) Furthermore, it gaslights him into believing that the abandonment never occurred — that the break is only beginning now. (chapter 74) The repeated please underlines her fear: he is not a son to welcome back, but a threat to the fragile world she has constructed without him. She has a lot to lose!

The irony (chapter 73) (chapter 74) is merciless: in just three letters, all hides the immensity of his suffering — (chapter 72) neglect, starvation, abuse, loneliness, betrayal — and yet the parents invoke it not to acknowledge his pain, but to hide their wrongdoings (justify their betrayal) and as such their failure! By placing after all at the front of her sentence, (chapter 74) the mother tries to turn the page unilaterally, as though this single phrase could close the chapter for good. It is not dialogue but dismissal, a way of shutting down the past before her son can reopen it. In other words, it’s a verdict too disguised as an excuse!

Placed at the end of the father’s sentence (chapter 73), after all erupted in the heat of reproach — spontaneous, yes, but no less destructive. It was triggered by his wounds, by the memory of betrayal he could not bear. Yet even in its impulsiveness, it carried no apology, no trace of self-reflection. Like the mother, he used the phrase as a verdict, not an opening — a way to wound, not to reconcile.

By contrast, the mother’s after all sits at the beginning of her sentence, cloaked in calm reasoning, stripped of any trace of spontaneity. Where the father lashed out, she closes off. Joo Jaekyung is now trapped between these two “after all”: one erupting in rage, the other draped in reason. Together they form a prison of words where apology has no place and the child’s voice is nowhere to be found. No wonder why the celebrity has never apologized to doc Dan in the end. At the same time, it explains why after this phone call, Joo Jaekyung had nothing to “lose”. The adults had destroyed the child’s soul and heart.

For Joo Jaekyung, there is no way back from this sentence. With ‘after all, you’re all grown-up now,’ his mother denies him the right to still be a child in need of care. ”After all”, he can also not deny his ties to her. His origins and even time itself become his enemies — he can never rewind, never reclaim the place of the baby who once clung to her. Her words brand him as someone beyond help, beyond nurture, beyond belonging. What she frames as maturity is, in fact, abandonment dressed as inevitability. The problem is that she is still alive. Unlike the father (dead) or the director (dying), she cannot escape judgment — not from her son, nor from others. By keeping the same phone number for years, she left behind proof of her continued existence. She could have fetched the boy at any moment, but she never did. Her responsibility doesn’t end simply because she decided to draw a line. (Chapter 74) Motherhood is not dissolved by a polite “please” or by a remarriage. She cannot erase this fact, however much she hides behind a new family or a change of circumstances. In this sense, the father’s words return as a curse for her: the truth of origin cannot be undone. The author is already implying this notion through narrative details.

The story itself shows us how enduring such responsibility is. (chapter 74) When the boy once caused trouble, the police looked for Joo Jaekyung’s guardian. In the cutthroat town, they reached out to Hwang Byungchul — not because he was legally responsible, but because everyone knew the boy was close to him (“we”). Guardianship, then, is never erased by silence. Even if you abandon the child, others will still hold you accountable.

And here lies the deeper irony: once Joo Jaekyung left for Seoul, he knew no one there. (chapter 74) In a city of anonymity, hearsay cannot replace documents. She left a paper trail — a legal identity that binds them together. Should the champion cause trouble in Seoul, or even become the victim of a crime, the police would have to turn to his legal guardian. And that can only be her.

The narrative already dramatizes this irony through the arcade incident (chapter 26). Oh Daehyun mentions that the young fighter broke the punching machine so many times he was blacklisted. Such destruction could easily have brought police intervention — and if it had, they would have been forced to search for his legal guardian. That guardian is none other than the mother who abandoned him and her new family. In other words, her erasure was never complete: every act of the boy risked pulling her shadow back into the open. Furthermore, this is what Kim Changmin revealed to his friend and colleague: (chapter 26) But Joo Jaekyung had long discovered sports and MMA, when he arrived in Seoul and met Park Namwook for the first time. (chapter 74) He had left his hometown because of the director’s suggestion.

Chapter 74 exposes the cracks in the narrative first built in episode 26. Back then, Kim Changmin and Oh Daehyun repeated what they had heard: that Joo Jaekyung had once been a troublemaker, a rich, spoiled brat who smashed arcade machines and got into fights — but that in the end, he was “saved” by sports, and especially by MMA and MFC. That’s why he didn’t recognize himself in the introduction: (chapter 26) This story clearly originates with Park Namwook, the manager, who positioned himself and the sport as Jaekyung’s saviors.

But episode 74 reveals the reality behind the myth. The boy wasn’t saved by MFC, nor by Namwook. It was the director, Hwang Byungchul, who intervened, who sent him to Seoul, (chapter 74) who redirected him before he was swallowed by the wrong path. The discrepancy between these accounts exposes more than just the manager’s manipulation: it points to the shadow of another intervention. How could he afford to destroy machine after machine without consequence? The only plausible answer is the “mother” and her new family, whose money and silence allowed him to pass as the “self-made” Emperor while erasing their own responsibility from the tale. And now, you comprehend why The Emperor was made voiceless. [For more read The Night-Cursed Emperor] Both MFC and the mother had a vested interest in silencing his true origins. For MFC, the myth of the “self-made champion” polished their image, free from any stain of thuggery — no whispers of money laundering, drugs, illegal gambling, or rigged games. For the mother, erasing the child meant erasing her own betrayal. The champion’s past was not only a personal wound but also a liability for others — a truth that had to be buried so that the façade of the Emperor could stand unchallenged. His silence, then, was never a choice; it was imposed, enforced by all those who profited from keeping his story untold. Should he ever speak up, he would expose not only the mother, but also MFC!

Because of episode 74, I came to resent the mother even more than before. She not only abandoned him twice, but toyed with his feelings. By answering once, she allowed his hope to flare up — only to extinguish it immediately. The phone that symbolized connection became the very tool of execution, its click as violent as the father’s punch. And just like her husband, she deceives herself. She imagines she can cut off ties completely with a single sentence, but until her death she remains legally and symbolically his mother.

The two after alls function like iron bars: one forged in the father’s rage, the other in the mother’s reason. Together, they create what you called a prison of words — a place where the boy cannot speak, cannot be heard, cannot be recognized. From that moment, he is not only abandoned but linguistically erased. His origins are denied, his childhood revoked, his future disowned.

And so, after the phone call, it is no wonder that Joo Jaekyung believed he had nothing left to lose. The boy’s heart had already been gutted; the rest of his path was merely survival. If he “went the wrong way,” it was because the adults had already led him there, sealing off every other route. They had destroyed the child before the teenager even had a chance to build himself.

This prepares the ground for the transition to the director: if his parents’ after alls built the prison, then Hwang Byungchul is the figure who becomes the witness of that imprisonment. Unlike them, he doesn’t openly wound with words — but his silence, his blindness, and his refusal to protect the boy make him complicit. He becomes the guard outside the prison walls.

The Director’s After Everything

When Hwang Byungchul says (chapter 74), the breadth of everything seems, on the surface, to acknowledge the sheer weight of Joo Jaekyung’s suffering. The word is heavy, expansive, suggesting years of accumulated pain, betrayal, and neglect. Yet, paradoxically, this very expansiveness is also a way of avoiding precision. By collapsing starvation, countless humiliations, abandonments, and traumas into a vague everything, the director sidesteps naming the concrete betrayals he himself witnessed. His silence here is telling: he cannot bring himself to articulate the parents’ cruelty, nor his own passivity in letting it happen. In front of the doctor, he had admitted himself that he had not raised him: (chapter 74) For doc Dan who embodies the present, such a statement can only become the ultimate truth: the star had been an orphan like him.

Moreover, his next word probably — betrays another form of distance. If he truly knew how the boy felt, if he had ever asked or listened, there would be no need for such hedging. Probably admits that he never entered the boy’s inner world, never gave him the space to voice his despair. It is the language of a bystander, not of a guardian. In fact, this hesitation exposes his complicity: Joo Jaekyung “went down the wrong path” not only because of the parents’ abandonment, but also because the one adult who remained nearby chose observation over intervention. (chapter 74) At the moment when Joo Jaekyung shattered the cellphone, Hwang Byungchul was not by his side but standing at a distance, directly in front of him. This means he must have seen the boy’s face — the tears, (chapter 74) the trembling hands, the rage that barely concealed heartbreak. He did not need to overhear the mother’s words; the child’s body language told the story with brutal clarity. (chapter 74) In that instant, the director could have stepped closer, offered consolation, or simply acknowledged the wound he was witnessing. Instead, he kept his distance, both physically and emotionally. He refused to assume a role as legal guardian.

The same pattern repeats at the father’s funeral. (chapter 74) Once again, the director was there — but his presence was mute. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, yet he never lent him an ear. He never invited the boy to speak, never created a space where grief, anger, or longing could be put into words. In other words, he was present in body but absent in voice and heart. Thus the director’s pat was a gesture of pity. It was a substitute for words, a way of saying “poor boy” while protecting himself from deeper involvement. But precisely because he withheld speech and listening, it denied Jaekyung the chance to articulate his own grief. It comforted without connecting.

This silence is not neutral. By withholding words, he deprived Jaekyung of language at the very moment he most needed it. A child learns to process suffering by speaking it into existence and having someone else respond. Denied this, Jaekyung internalized the pain wordlessly — forced to embody it through his fists, through destruction (chapter 74), through fighting. Thus the director’s quietness, his refusal to engage, became a formative wound in itself. He chose the safety of distance over the risk of involvement, and in doing so, left the boy’s cries unanswered.

Thus, the director’s after everything is double-edged: it gestures at recognition, but functions as concealment. He names the boy’s burden while sidestepping his own. What sounds like empathy is, in truth, pity — a way of acknowledging suffering without engaging it. It allows him to speak about Jaekyung’s pain while avoiding both the betrayal he witnessed and the silence he himself maintained. In this sense, after everything is less an opening than a shield: a phrase that distances him from responsibility under the guise of compassion.

And because the boy had no one by his side that night, he concluded he had nothing to lose. Stripped of home, voice, and care, he stood in a void where even those who should have protected him kept their distance. The director’s silence, his refusal to step in or give the boy an ear, reinforced the sense of abandonment. Far from steering him away, this absence of guidance nudged him toward the wrong path. In this way, the man who might have been a safeguard became instead a silent accomplice to the boy’s fall. Hence he put the blame on the main lead. (chapter 74)

Hwang Byungchul was called to the police station in order to correct his past wrongdoing. (chapter 74) He was given a chance to step in, to finally become the guardian he had failed to be on the night of the boy’s deepest collapse. Therefore it is no coincidence that he claims to have raised him, while the readers are well aware of the truth. (chapter 74) Yet the way he handled the moment revealed the full extent of his contradictions.

The director was never one to turn his back on Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 74) He always faced him, (chapter 74) or sometimes stood beside him, kept him in sight. On the surface, this could seem like loyalty, but in truth it was another form of failure. Facing him head-on meant constant confrontation, constant judgment. His presence was physical, but never protective; it was discipline, surveillance, not refuge. He never had his back!!

Instead of offering himself as support, he wielded the parents as weapons. (chapter 74) The father was dragged into memory as a warning: “Do you want to end up like him?” The mother, already gone, was turned into a conditional model: “Would she even want to live with you if she could see you now?” In both cases, the boy was denied his right to grieve. His parents were not mourned, but transformed into instruments of discipline. He was forced to run from one shadow and to chase another, leaving him no space to simply exist. The director maintained the future champion trapped in the chains of the past.

This strategy erased the present. Jaekyung’s worth was always defined against the dead or the vanished, never in who he was here and now. It was never about him!! Happiness, stillness, or pride in the moment were impossible; only punishment and striving remained.

When the director invoked the mother again that night, it exposed his blindness. (chapter 74) For him, she was a symbol — fuel for perseverance, as he was projecting his own mother onto the boy’s! For the teenager, the mother was the deepest wound. By naming her, the director imagined he was motivating; in reality, he was tearing it open once more. But how could Jaekyung reveal the truth — that his own mother had rejected him, not just once, but twice? To admit this would have been to confess that the hope she dangled before him, the dream of reunion, had been nothing but a cruel game. His silence was not pride but a shield, for voicing it would mean exposing that even his mother’s love had been counterfeit. (chapter 74) Thus his silence was not indifference but defense: he was protecting her name, even when it burned him to do so. In shielding her, he also buried himself.

And the director used this hesitation to his own advantage. This shows that Hwang Byungchuld had no intention to listen. He answered with his fist right away. The punch to the chest crystallized his stance: discipline over empathy, control over dialogue. What he offered was not guidance but force, unwittingly echoing the very violence of the father he condemned. (chapter 74) That is how another pattern emerges: every exchange the boy endured was never true conversation, but always structured as an argument or a challenge. Even here: (chapter 72) At home, his father turned dialogue into a bet — a contest of strength where affection was absent and only victory mattered. Later, in front of the police station, the director reproduced the same pattern: invoking the mother not to console, but to provoke, to test, to challenge. In both cases, words became weapons. They did not open space for Jaekyung to speak; they cornered him, forcing him either to resist or to submit. This explains why in season 1, the two protagonists had similar interactions.

Thus when the boy lashed out and the director struck him, the failure was complete. He had been given a chance to correct the past — to be a guardian rather than a spectator — but instead he repeated the cycle. His discipline came without empathy, his presence without listening. In the end, he did not save the boy from the wrong path; he helped push him further along it, for MFC is strongly intertwined with crimes.

However, the argument followed by the punch seems to have functioned as a wake-up call for the director as well. (chapter 74) For the first time, he shifted ground and no longer invoked Jaekyung’s parents as warnings; instead, he summoned the memory of his own mother. After everything she had done for him, he insisted, the boy should repay her sacrifice by leading a better life. Yet here again the same logic returns: time weaponized, gratitude demanded, obligation imposed. What might have been a tender remembrance of maternal care was turned into a debt-ledger pressed onto Jaekyung’s shoulders. (chapter 74) For him, discipline was always bound to her presence, her food, her care, her silent labor that sustained the gym. By invoking “the mother” as a motivator, he was, in truth, repeating the only model of loyalty and endurance he had ever known. But this was borrowed authority, not Jaekyung’s. What may have given the boy a flicker of purpose in the moment — to endure, to fight “for her sake” — (chapter 74) could not last. It was never his voice, never his wound being acknowledged. It was an external script imposed upon him. And so, over time, that imposed motivation faded, eclipsed by the title and the money. (chapter 54) The director’s form of guidance could not sustain him; it was external, borrowed, conditional. Therefore, it is not surprising that he was never contacted after the main lead’s departure for Seoul. By then, the director had already become like his own mother — reduced to a memory (chapter 70) and nothing more. He neither possessed the boy’s number nor showed the desire to stay connected; worse, he had told him explicitly never to return. (chapter 74) Through both words and attitude, he conveyed that their paths were to diverge for good. Yet, this was never truly his intentions. In cutting him off so decisively, he enacted the very separation he condemned later. The boy had taken his words too seriously.

Park Namwook’s Lately

If Hwang Byungchul cloaked his failure under the phrase after everything, Park Namwook disguises his own negligence in the word lately. (chapter 56) (chapter 66) His care always comes after, never before. The word itself reveals his stance: he notices change, but belatedly, when damage is already done. The main lead is now escaping his control. And now, you comprehend why PArk Namwook blamed Joo Jaekyung and slapped him at the hospital. (chapter 52) That way, he could divert attention from the “before and circumstances”. And in season 2, the man hasn’t changed at all. Instead of asking what caused Jaekyung’s crisis, he chides him for straying from the routine — for not showing up at the gym, for being absent.

This exposes the essence of Namwook’s guardianship: reactive, not proactive. He does not anticipate storms; he waits until they break and then demands the champion hold himself together. In this way, his “lately” becomes the twin of “after everything.” Both phrases externalize responsibility. Both erase the speaker’s complicity in the boy’s suffering and downfall. Both subtly suggest that the fault lies with Jaekyung himself (chapter 52), either for not rising above (after everything) or for drifting from his prescribed path (lately).

But the crucial difference is that the boy no longer remains silent. With Namwook, for the first time, Jaekyung voiced his emotions. (chapter 52) The slap at the hospital was more than a physical outburst; it was the eruption of long-repressed truth. Where he once swallowed pain in silence for his mother, and later endured fists in silence for his coach, here he answers back. Lately thus marks not only Namwook’s delay but also Jaekyung’s refusal to bear the weight alone anymore. (chapter 52)

The paradox is sharp: Namwook embodies all three guardians at once — the father’s abuse (chapter 73), the mother’s silence through the cellphone (chapter 74), the director’s passivity. He is their synthesis, a distorted heir to their failures. Like the mother, he has his own family on the side, (chapter 45) his true life hidden elsewhere. Like her, he conceals his absence behind a phone call, creating the illusion of presence without truly standing by the boy. (chapter 45)

Hwang Byungchul and Park Namwook echo the same blind pattern: they fault the fighter for straying (chapter 52) , (chapter 70), while remaining oblivious to the rot within their own world and the medical world. The director accused Joo Jaewoong of “choosing the wrong path,” (chapter 74) never admitting that boxing itself was already entangled with the underworld. Likewise, Park Namwook reproached Joo Jaekyung for the mess, while in reality he had been a victim. The incident with the switched spray was reduced to two people: doc Dan and Joo Jaekyung. Funny is that by invoking lately and after all , they have the impression that delayed blame could substitute for real support. Both stand as authorities who issue reprimands only once the harm is irreversible—always too late, always at a remove. In doing so, they preserve the illusion of responsibility while avoiding the real corruption at the core of their institutions. They deny the existence of “victims”. By doing so, both Hwang Byungchul and Park Namwook sustain the illusion that the system itself is clean, and that all fault lies with the individual fighter. In their eyes, there is no exploitation, only bad choices. This explains why the CEO’s fabricated apology disturbed Namwook (chapter 69): for the first time, a figure of authority assumed responsibility, however insincerely. What to others looked like shallow PR, to Namwook appeared as a dangerous break with the rule of denial. It highlighted the emptiness of his own guardianship, where reproach replaces protection and victims are erased from the narrative.

This is why the expression lately becomes so important. With it, the manager pretends to care but really reveals distance. He notices changes but reacts belatedly, hoping the boy will revert to the old champion who endured everything. “Lately” is less concern than crisis delayed, a signal of his failure to respond in time. Instead of seeing the broader corruption of MFC, the scheming of rivals, or the weight of past trauma, Namwook shifts the blame onto the champion himself. The reproach he delivered in the hospital — his version of a slap — confirms this change. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung answered back, voicing emotions rather than swallowing them.Yet unlike them, he faces a Jaekyung who has begun to change. The boy he could once manipulate through reproach and delay now resists, signaling that the cycle of belated guardianship may finally fracture. This means that the very first meeting between Joo Jaekyung and Park Namwook in episode 74 is already announcing the end of their “collaboration.” 8chapter 74) His first words expose his true nature: ruthless and blindness. For him, Joo Jaekyung was just a fresh meat. The latter is not recognized as an individual and human. And if he remained by the manager’s side for many years, by recollecting their past, the main lead should recognize how the “wrestler” started distancing himself from the “boy”. At some point, he got married and got three kids…

Moreover, from the beginning, the manager could never be more than a placeholder, because Jaekyung would not remain his “boy” forever. By recalling their past interaction, the champion can now recognize that Namwook was never truly part of his life. Why? Because after all — the language of the “guardians/adults”— is tied to the night, the moment of deepest loneliness and loss. (chapter 73) (chapter 74) (chapter 74) The night represents what Jaekyung has always been missing: not training, not discipline, but a home where warmth endures after dark. A place where he can expose his vulnerability and be himself! (chapter 74) Honestly, it would be funny, if the champion used the same words than his own mother against the manager (chapter 74) and this would take place because of a cold!! Another possibility is blocking his number. It would close the circle of abandonment, but this time he would be the one in control. The irony is sharp: what once marked him as powerless and discarded becomes a tool of emancipation. Instead of being silenced, Jaekyung would be the one drawing the boundary, declaring that the “family” Namwook pretended to provide was nothing but an illusion.

And if this scene were triggered by something as simple as a cold, the irony deepens. A cold is usually dismissed as trivial, but for Jaekyung it would symbolize care denied. Nobody in his childhood noticed his fevers or his wounds — and Namwook, too, is too far away to notice that he is sick. He has always treated sickness as weakness to be hidden or endured, not as a moment to express love and care. (chapter 70) Thus the manager is confident that the star can return to the ring. By cutting the manager off in such a moment, Jaekyung would be affirming that he no longer accepts neglect disguised as toughness. Both “directors” are trapping the champion in the chains of the past and the future. For them, there’s no present and as such no happiness or fulfillment. Hence Hwang Byungchul is even bored, when he watched the MFC match. (chapter 71) Deep down, he has been longing for company too. Now, he is finally talking…. (chapter 70) As you can see, it is never too late… Thus we saw this on the roof of the hospital: a real and intimate conversation between the “guardian” and his pupil: (chapter 71) The director has changed!

Shin Okja’s before

And now, you are wondering how the halmoni has been affecting the champion’s life, for the former met the celebrity rather late in her life. If the director’s vocabulary circled around “after everything” and the manager’s around “lately”, the halmoni’s word is “before.” It is the most deceptive of the three, because it does not point to a rupture or a change, but instead dissolves them. Keep in mind what she confided to the main lead on the beach: She presented her grandson as an orphan, right from the start. (chapter 65) So for someone like Joo JAekyung who suffered from constant betrayals and abandonment, his lover’s childhood must have sounded like a “blessing”. She tells the story of Dan’s life as if he had simply always been without parents. When she recalls, “He grew up without a mom and dad… my heart just breaks for him,” the formulation makes it sound as though nothing was ever lost, nothing was ever taken away — it was simply his condition from the start. Doc Dan didn’t get hurt by his parents through their words or actions.

This is the function of her “before”: to erase abandonment itself. Instead of admitting there was a moment after which Dan was alone, she rewrites the narrative so that he never had parents at all. By doing so, she transforms tragedy into fate. The parents vanish not as agents of betrayal, but as if they never existed. This absolves not only them but also herself: there is no wound to confront, no injustice to name.

This is why her “before” is so insidious. In her version of events, Kim Dan was never abandoned — he was “lucky” to always have her. She erased the loss of his parents by rewriting the story: no trauma, no wound, no victim. Just a boy who had someone by his side. And contrary to Joo JAewoong, the champion’s mother and Hwang Byungchul, she had been gentle and attentive. She had seen him drinking, smoking… she had nagged, but the physical therapist had never listened to her. (chapter 65) She can appear as the perfect role model in the athlete’s eyes. No wonder why he listened to her and brought doc Dan to a huge hospital in Seoul. But here is the thing…. (chapter 65) The grandmother’s narrative culminates in a deceptively simple phrase: “And then, one day, he just grew up.” Unlike after all, which implies endurance, patience, and a long lapse of time, her then one day compresses everything into a brief, almost casual instant. In her telling, there is no slow accumulation of wounds, no process of wear, no history of pain to be endured. The transformation is presented as sudden and natural, as if nothing of significance had preceded it.

This brevity is precisely what makes her before so insidious. She denies the child the depth of his suffering by reducing the entire loss of his parents, his struggles (bullying) (chapter 57), and his forced maturity to a single, fleeting day. No trauma, no endurance — just inevitability. By collapsing years of hardship into a harmless “day,” she erases both the past and the victim. And now, you can understand why doc Dan is trapped in the present! By erasing the “before” (abandonment, trauma) and trivializing the process of “becoming an adult,” she collapses time into a single, static present. Kim Dan is not allowed a past that hurts (because she erased it), nor a future that could unfold differently (because “he just grew up” is presented as inevitable).

All that remains for him is the present moment of survival — working, enduring, fulfilling duties, without a sense of continuity. He cannot look back with clarity (since the story of his childhood has been rewritten), nor forward with hope (since his adulthood was framed as an instant fait accompli).

That’s why, compared to Joo Jaekyung — who is bound to the past (after all, memory, endurance) — Kim Dan is bound to the present: caught in an eternal now, where nothing really changes. Under this new light, my avid readers can grasp why doc Dan has not confided to his halmoni about the incident with the switched spray. First, the grandmother would remain passive and secondly, this would be erased and even diminished to a single and insignificant moment.

Before I knew it, I was…

With this simple phrase, (chapter 70) Joo Jaekyung crosses the invisible threshold that has defined his entire life. For years, he had existed only under others’ names and authorities: the son of a failed boxer, the mother’s son, the pupil of a coach, the protégé of a manager, the champion of a league. His identity was always tethered to someone else’s frame of reference, never to his own. But this line signals the birth of the I—a voice no longer spoken for, but speaking.

What makes this moment decisive is its anchoring in the present. In the past, the present was unbearable: nights of insomnia, rooms filled with silence, the sense of living only for the next fight or the next insult. The after all had become a synonym for “painful nights”. The guardians around him distorted time itself—“after all” became an endless call for endurance, “then one day” reduced years of suffering into nothing but a passing moment. In reclaiming the present, Jaekyung finally escapes those distortions. The present no longer equals absence, fear, or punishment; it becomes the ground of tenderness, heartbeat, and authentic feeling.

Yet feelings, as Kim Dan reminded him before (ch. 62)— (chapter 62) cannot, by themselves, sustain love. Emotions flare and fade, tied to the immediacy of the present. Thus the mother could break her promise and even lie to him later. What endures is not emotion alone, but the principles that Fromm identified as the essence of love: care, responsibility, knowledge, and respect. These qualities stabilize the fleeting nature of feeling and transform the present into something continuous, something that can grow. In this sense, the teddy bear bridges the gap between “present” and “future”: (chapter 65) it transforms the fleeting moment of emotion into a promise of constancy. After all, before it’s too late, what both men longed for was never glory or escape, but a home where they could rest — not alone, but in each other’s arms. By discovering emotions and learning to live in the present, the champion also rediscovers his inner child. His line — “Is this a joke?” — marks that shift, since jokes, like emotions, only exist in the immediacy of the moment. It is only a matter of time, until he laughs because of a joke. By embracing doc Dan like a teddy bear, he allows himself to cling and regress, no longer the wolf or the Emperor but simply a boy seeking warmth. Even his cold becomes symbolic: (chapter 70) illness forces him to slow down, to be vulnerable, and to receive care — something denied to him in childhood. In this way, love turns the regression into healing, transforming weakness into the possibility of renewal.

Thus Jaekyung’s story closes the circle: once trapped in the timelines of others, he now inhabits his own time. The “I” he has found is not just the voice of desire, but of choice. Love is no longer an illusion or a prison—no longer tied to debt, silence, or obligation—but a deliberate act that carries him into the future.

PS: I am suspecting that the mother is hiding behind this name: Seo Gichan, (chapter 5) and if it’s true, then this person would be the second husband.

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.

Painter Of The Night: The reality of nightmare (podcast/video)

Please support the authors by reading the manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the manhwa Painter Of The Night. 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 of 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.

This is my second podcast. I am quite in a hurry, because I would like to share my observations and thoughts concerning chapter 115. However, due to a students exchange, I am still running out of time, as the release of episode 116 is right around the corner. It is still lacking, for I had not the time to write the text. I just took notes, hence I had to speak freely. Nonetheless, contrary to my first podcast, I am now including the pictures. Sorry for the hesitations and my French accent.

Play the video while listening to my podcast.

Like mentioned in the video, one common denominator between episode 83 and 115 is deception. While the guest Lee Jihwa got deceived by his friend with a prank, the learned sir is about to get deceived by lord Song. In my opinion, the latter has already decided to get rid of Jung In-Hun, the moment the learned sir is no longer useful. Why? He needs to eliminate the witness of his intervention. In fact, he just needs to reveal some information in delay. The scholar hated the protagonist Yoon Seungho and he tried to seek revenge on him. He betrayed him on many occasions, thus he looked into his past in order to discover any weakness. In other words, once the Yoons are removed, the schemers plan to frame the learned sir for „Yoon Seungho‘s death“. Hence he abused his position and framed the Yoons in order to cover up his crime!! For me, father Lee and lord Song are following the principle: one hand washes the other. That way, they can keep their hands clean!! And who would expose the learned sir‘s „crime“ to the monarch in delay? Kim… who could appear as a loyal servant to Yoon Seungho, though he couldn‘t stop the tragedy!! Thus the lord had this vision in episode 83. (chapter 83) Besides, don‘t forget that Black Heart got fooled himself and ended up dead. But like I outlined it before, their plan won‘t work because of the butterfly „Baek Na-Kyum“.

So while in episode 111, the learned sir thought, he was getting closer to his dream, he experienced a huge awakening within a few hours. He lost everything and this was done on purpose. The schemers desired him to lose everything so that he would do something reckless out of hatred and envy. The higher he climbs, the harder he falls! The reality is that he is just a greedy, arrogant and selfish man. He was never satisfied with his own life. He thought, he was destined to greatness! Yoon Seungho as the mirror of truth was exposing him to reality which the learned sir rejected in the end. (Chapter 115) The reality was too painful, hence he chose the illusion, thinking that with his new position, he would be able to do anything, especially if he is getting the support from lord Song. In my opinion, he is falling into a trap. He would realize it, if he pondered and didn‘t let his emotions cloud his judgement. Lord Song waited for his suffering and humiliation. By rejecting reality, the learned sir chose the nightmare, a very unpleasant and frightening experience.

The painter‘s dreams always come true!

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 / Doctor Frost: The dark ⬛ shed ⛺ and its symbolism ☯

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 I am also using doctor Frost as reference again.  https://www.webtoons.com/en/mystery/dr-frost/list?title_no=371  

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.

1. The imaginary sick person

I have to admit that I was initially disappointed by Yoon Seungho’s behavior in episode 108. One of the reasons is that he didn’t trust his lover, though he didn’t buy the doctor’s statement right away too. That’s the reason why he went to the maids and asked for their observations and opinion. (chapter 108) But then I changed my mind about the lord, for Yoon Seungho didn’t rely on just one testimony contrary to his father: (chapter 86) Finally, thanks to the argument in the shed, I had another revelation which I will explain more details below.

However, the protagonist’s huge mistake is that he trusted the maids’ words too. While one might judge the apology from the main lead as a sign of humbleness, I view it in a different light: it exposes his low self-esteem. (chapter 108) He blames himself for everything. For me, these women were lying to their master. Why do I think so? The first proof is that the painter’s fate is to go through the same experiences than his lover. And what did the valet admit in the shed? (chapter 108) There was not a soul in this household who was standing by his side back then and now! This signifies that there is not a soul in the mansion truly standing on the painter’s side as well!! Back then (before the massacre) and even now… Moreover, while these maids’ attachment was sincere (chapter 51) (chapter 63), this doesn’t signify that it is the same for all the female servants. This would be just another prejudice. (chapter 108) Yes, this woman is not the same than the one from chapter 51, for her clothes diverge despite the same pigments. She is wearing a white ribbon around her waist. (chapter 108), whereas the other wears the belt more around the hips, hence her skirt has a bump on her butt. (chapter 108) Finally, pay attention to the form of her mouth. It doesn’t ooze warmth or joy, quite displeasure and mistrust. But let’s return to my initial statement, the staff was actually deceiving their own lord. (chapter 108) First, when the manhwalovers saw him in the kitchen, he was eating to his heart content and enjoying his breakfast. (chapter 38) Moreover, the painter had long stopped eating with the maids, he would share his meals with the main lead. (chapter 46) (chapter 74) This explicates why the artist returned the table with the porridge to the kitchen himself. (chapter 98) This means that they couldn’t witness how the artist would eat. To conclude, the statement from the staff was once again a mixture of truth and lies, for they were combining different situations together. Hence their apology was not genuine despite their gesture.

With their words (chapter 108), they admitted that they had been fooled themselves. At the same time, they implied that the painter has been hiding his discomfort all along, as he was only eating properly in front of his lover. Moreover, they insinuated that the painter’s laugh and smiles weren’t sincere at all. In other words, the lord’s eyes had been “deceived”, as the painter had been acting. This explicates why he took the blame and apologized to the staff. (chapter 108) He had not perceived the artist’s discomfort. Indirectly, they were putting the blame on the lord and Baek Na-Kyum. Nevertheless, they never stated that they had seen the painter vomiting. And now, observe that someone else had said the same thing about the artist in the past: (chapter 62) The painter had been faking his “submission”, hence the “valet” got fooled. He had trusted the artist blindly. Thus the lord got angry, and resented the butler, for he wished the opposite. He didn’t want to admit that the artist had been acting. Yet, the seed of doubt was implanted in his mind. Consequently, in episode 108, we have the exact same situation, yet contrary to the past, the lord didn’t get angry at his lover. He never condemned the painter for his dishonesty, though he was not truly lying either. To conclude, chapter 108 is a reflection from episode 62. Thus it dawned on me that the valet could have attempted to fool his master once again. The artist was a hypocrite, for he was acting in front of the lord hoping that he wouldn‘t cut ties with him. It was for his best interests to send back to the kisaeng house. Yet, nothing like that happened.

Yet, in reality, the artist had been eating properly, as we could see him glowing in this image, (chapter 104), a sign that he was recovering. But due to the two incidents during that day, Baek Na-Kyum had been feeling unwell and was hiding his discomfort out of fear of getting abandoned. This means that the deceivers were trying to portray the painter’s actual disposition as something unchanging. Since the painter had trouble with eating now, his eating disorder existed in the past. And this perception got reinforced, for the lord could notice afterwards that the maids’ statement had become a reality. What they had described, truly happened afterwards. Due to worries and anxieties, the artist lost his appetite. He would fake his “happiness”. The manhwalovers could witness how the painter had slimmed down (chapter 108), just like his “husband”. (chapter 108), a new version of episode 51. This time, the roles had been switched, the painter was sitting in the patio. To sum up, the schemers and the accomplices were creating a prejudice, a so-called universal truth. This is the negative reflection of season 1, where the gossips about Yoon Seungho were turned into a reality. In many of my previous analyses, I had outlined that these rumors about the protagonist had been false. (chapter 1) He couldn’t have a proper erection, and it was never his choice to have sex at any time and any place, because he was treated as a male kisaeng. And now, it is the painter’s turn. Gossips about him would become a verity. Yet the other difference to season 1 is that in season 4 the artist is exposed to the same “prejudices” than Yoon Seungho in the past: He is ill!! He needs to be treated and the “gibang” is the right place for that🤮. He would be with his noonas, a new version of the lord’s past. And now, you comprehend why father Yoon said this to the physician in chapter 57: (chapter 57) A single incident was turned into a generality, implying that it was the same in the past!! To conclude, the noble is put into the same situation than his own father, the only divergence is that Yoon Seungho has indeed the painter’s best interests in his heart. He is determined to provide him with the best!! Thus he blames himself contrary to the elder master Yoon.

2. Yoon Seungho’s believes

But why did Yoon Seungho choose to trust others instead of his loved one? In my eyes, there exist two reasons. First, let’s not forget that the lord has been hiding the truth from his partner, his action in the shaman’s house. He is worried, but he doesn’t desire to burden his loved one, hence he chose silence and secrecy. (chapter 104) This statement implies that the painter is responsible for the bloodbath, for he left the propriety. Yet, instead of confronting the painter, he was encouraged not to talk about the past. He was suggested that way, he would protect the artist’s mind and heart. Besides, his choice was influenced by his own anxieties. The lord fears argument, because the last time they had quarreled, the artist had threatened his lover to leave the place. (chapter 85) I would like my avid readers to keep in mind that the lord wished to keep the artist by his side, sending the artist back to the kisaeng house was just a temporary measure. (chapter 105), yet the painter had heard something different from his noona. (chapter 105) That’s how a misunderstanding was created, provoking the painter’s abandonment issues to resurface. The lord had selected secrecy and silence out of love for the artist. Therefore when the lord sensed Baek Na-Kyum’s agony, he could only jump to the conclusion that the painter was acting the same way than him. He was also hiding something from Yoon Seungho. That’s the reason why the lord didn’t argue with Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 107) He imagined that the artist was doing it out of concern for the noble. He was projecting his own thoughts onto the artist.

Nonetheless, for me, the biggest cause for his mistake are his own believes, and more precisely the “rules” he was indoctrinated with. He might have dropped his suicidal disposition, yet his self-hatred was not solved entirely. Its source is based on the following principle: “bird of misfortune”. (chapter 68) According to this belief, the lord brings bad luck to others. This rule can only incite the main lead to doubt himself, to judge himself in a negative light, to doubt his own judgement. Moreover, the perfidy is that this principle pushes the protagonist to deny the existence of his own misery. It was, as though the lord had never suffered, only the others. This “faith” represents the biggest lie and hypocrisy. However, the main lead questioned this rule in front of Yoon Chang-Hyeon, (chapter 86), as he started putting the whole responsibility on the elder master and the ignorant servant. But due to the last massacre in the shaman’s house, Kim could use the painter’s suffering as the evidence of this “irrefutable truth”. Yoon Seungho brought misery to the painter. That’s the reason why Kim “suggested” his master to send Baek Na-Kyum away by proposing the opposite. Simultaneously, we have the explanation why the painter has abandonment issues again. Since their magical night in the gibang, Yoon Seungho and his lover are no longer sharing the same bed. (chapter 108) He remains seated by his side, because he is projecting his own reaction onto his loved one. Remember how Yoon Seungho reacted in the past with Lee Jihwa: he pushed his childhood friend away. (chapter 59) It was, as if Yoon Seungho feared to taint the painter by sleeping next to him. However, the artist’s biggest wish is to share the same bed than his lover. (chapter 97) To conclude, Yoon Seungho’s life is still influenced by a false cult, by propagandism. This faith is is based on Rene Girard’s theories about mimetic desire and scapegoat mechanism.

“Girard’s fundamental concept is ‘mimetic desire’. Ever since Plato, students of human nature have highlighted the great mimetic capacity of human beings; that is, we are the species most apt at imitation. However, according to Girard, most thinking devoted to imitation pays little attention to the fact that we also imitate other people’s desires, and depending on how this happens, it may lead to conflicts and rivalries. If people imitate each other’s desires, they may wind up desiring the very same things; and if they desire the same things, they may easily become rivals, as they reach for the same objects.” Quoted from https://iep.utm.edu/girard/#H3

According to the psychologist and anthropologist, rather than bringing people together, convergence gives rise to hostility. Humans aren’t violent by nature. Our nature is social. The tragedy is that, even without deliberate evil on anyone’s part, our social nature constantly pits us against each other. Thus the French philosopher developed the following revolutionary hypothesis: human culture began with religion, and religion arose from our species’ need to master its own violence. (chapter 250) Hence the man created the following theory which is inspired by religion.

“Girard calls this process ‘scapegoating’, an allusion to the ancient religious ritual where communal sins were metaphorically imposed upon a he-goat, and this beast was eventually abandoned in the desert, or sacrificed to the gods (in the Hebrew Bible, this is especially prescribed in Leviticus 16).The person that receives the communal violence is a ‘scapegoat’ in this sense: her death or expulsion is useful as a regeneration of communal peace and restoration of relationships.” Quoted from https://iep.utm.edu/girard/#SH3b

This means that the community deceives itself into believing that the victim is the culprit of the communal crisis, and that the elimination of the victim will eventually restore peace. (Doctor Frost, chapter 250). Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the author from Doctor Frost utilized the image of a black sheep as the future scapegoat. IT was selected, because it stood out. And you comprehend why Yoon Seungho became the target in the end. His good reputation attracted envy and jealousy. (chapter 57) Why? It is because each noble family aspires to the same: power and wealth! (chapter 86) I had already detected father Lee’s jealousy and greed, just like Kim, Yoon Chang-Hyeon and Yoon Seungwon. The butler and the father might have desired the same (recognition and fame), but this could only end up in resulting in rivalry and jealousy.

“Scapegoating can happen to protect the image of the family or people who are favored in the family, not just the self. It is common for one person to be scapegoated, but it can happen with more than one person. Commonplace in families with unhealthy dynamics, scapegoating tends to start in childhood when children are blamed for all of the problems in dysfunctional households. The term “scapegoat” originates from the Bible. […] In addition, it results in an upbringing in which the scapegoated child’s inherent worth, goodness, and lovableness are ignored. Instead, insults, bullying, neglect, and abuse are deemed appropriate for the child forced into this position. […] Why a parent decides to scapegoat a child tends not to make any sense because this behavior is rooted in dysfunction. For example, a child who is sensitive, inquisitive, attractive, and smart might be perceived as a threat and scapegoated by a parent who lacks these qualities.” Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/what-does-it-mean-to-be-the-family-scapegoat-5187038

As you can see, this article corroborates my perception of the elder master Yoon. Because the Yoons were a dysfunctional family, where the main lead was neglected by the mother, and the parents were alienated, Yoon Seungho was isolated, making him vulnerable. There is no doubt that the father just viewed his son as a tool for his own glory, it becomes understandable why the main lead lost very quickly his special status, when an incident occurred. The latter was definitely turned into an immutable truth, and Yoon Seungho had no one by his side to refute the deception. The lord’s good reputation could only be perceived as a threat by others. There is no doubt that it was the same for lord Haseon. (chapter 107) This explicates why Yoon Seungwon was mentioned by the man with the purple hanbok. He implied that the son might have been well educated, yet he must be lacking elsewhere: his sexual education…. as his other task is to have a heir. This means that by standing out, Yoon Seungwon caught the jealousy and envy from other yangbans, though I have my doubts if he truly passed the civil service exam first. In other words, it is better not to stand out.

But let’s return our attention to Yoon Seungho who became the scapegoat. Nonetheless, he didn’t die, because his mother had sacrificed herself for her son’s sake. To conclude, since the mother killed herself and her son survived, the main lead got blamed for everything. Consequently, I deduce that the same occurred to No-Name who is “lord Song” according to me. With each sacrifice or punishment, peace was restored, however this was just an illusion, for the lord got still abused and the “real lord Song” came to lose everything. Hence there is still resent, jealousy and desire for revenge, because no real justice was delivered. With Rene Girard’s theory “scapegoat mechanism”, we have the perfect explanation why Min would lust after the painter. It is because everyone was looking at the artist either out of jealousy or greed. Finally, this connection confirms my interpretation: religion plays a central role in this story. And the main lead is not questioning this psychological phenomenon. Why? I had already pointed out that Yoon Seungho had been exposed to brainwashing and was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. But how is it possible?

3. The birth of “brainwashing”

In order to answer that question, I will use Doctor Frost as a reference again. (Doctor Frost, chapter 183) Since deprogramming is like brainwashing, it signifies that for the brainwashing, the victim needs to be isolated and even imprisoned too. And in order to be effective, the target of the brainwashing has to be exposed to stress and lack of sleep.

(chapter 187) Fatigue and exhaustion are necessary in order to lower the target’s defense mechanisms. This explicates why it has to take place during the night, for the night is the time for humans to rest. Therefore the place of brainwashing is called “the fox’s hole” in Doctor Frost.

However, there is more to it. (Doctor Frost, chapter 187). (chapter 187) The Ganzfeld effect happens when you undergo sensory deprivation for some time, and your brain tries to make sense of what is happening. Just 15 minutes of sensory deprivation can induce vivid hallucinations, according to researchers. This process involves muffling the ears and blindfolding, so people are unable to see or hear. And note what had happened to Baek Na-Kyum during the abduction. His head had been covered (chapter 66), and according to me, while his head was covered, he got strangled. Hence he had this nightmare. (chapter 61) But he lost notion of time and chronology, hence his nightmare is not coherent. One feature of altered states of consciousness during Ganzfeld exposure is an altered sense of time. In general, regardless of the induction method, altered states of consciousness can be characterized by changes in the sense of self and time. But this can only happen, when the brain is deprived of stimulations.   (chapter 187) I had already outlined that Yoon Seungho had lost not only the notion of time, but also all his senses. And the nightmare is displaying the evidence of the Ganzfeld exposure. Hence the young master viewed himself flying (chapter 74), and at the end his eyes and ears got covered by hands and blood. (chapter 74) Besides, he was trapped in the dark room which looked like the servants’ quarters. Only thanks to the painter, the lord could recover his own senses, slowly he became the owner of his own body again. In addition, remember what he said to his own father: (chapter 86) The darkness he was referring to is the indication of “Ganzfeld effect”. Because he was trapped in this nightmare, he lost the sense of reality. He had to rely on someone else’s senses and words. That’s how his memories got repressed and even distorted. Consequently, a new past could get recreated. That’s the reason why the lord had no memories for a long time. The valet was the “owner of the truth and as such of the time”. We could say that till the meeting with the painter, he possessed the lord’s memories. Besides, one of the side effects of scapegoating is becoming vulnerable to gaslighting.

  • Trauma: Being deprived of a family’s love, singled out as the “bad one” in the household, and having one’s positive attributes overlooked can set up a child for a lifetime of emotional and psychological distress, where they struggle believing they are good, worthy, competent, or likable.
  • Toxic relationships and environments: It can also result in these individuals entering friendships, romantic relationships, and working environments that are abusive and harmful. 
  • Normalizing dysfunctional behavior: Dysfunction and abuse often feel “normal” for family scapegoats, making it difficult for them to spot dangerous people and places before harm is done.
  • Difficulties with boundaries: The fact that gaslighting is common in dysfunctional families makes it challenging for abused individuals to set boundaries and recognize when other people’s behavior crosses the line. They are more likely to believe that they are exaggerating, are being too sensitive, or can’t trust their judgement.
  • Self-sabotage or self-harm: Scapegoats tend to internalize the harmful messages they’ve received about themselves from birth or early childhood onward. This could result in the child engaging in self-sabotage or self-harm, such as doing poorly in school, neglecting self-care, engaging in risky activities or behaviors, and acting out in ways that indicate they deserve the title of the scapegoat (even though no child does).Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/what-does-it-mean-to-be-the-family-scapegoat-5187038

The information from Doctor Frost made me realize that the shed is the place where the main lead got brainwashed. This explicates why the main lead put a fire in the storage room, when the artist was brought there after the “fake abduction”. (chapter 62) Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the lord didn’t lose his whole sanity and as such didn’t fall completely into despair. The warmth and light served him as a guidance. Consequently, I deduce that in his childhood, he was trapped there in the dark for hours!! Because he was jailed in that room, he was exposed to the Ganzfeld effect. Therefore he relied on the valet’s words. (chapter 77) He trusted the butler, even after getting betrayed and abandoned each time. He developed blind faith in the butler. Why? It is because he was the only one “talking to him”. Though he wounded him so many times, he still remained by the lord’s side. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that the shed is not just a room for punishment, but also for “faith”, the place where the scapegoat was placed: “ (chapter 77) That’s the reason why he got treated like an animal. This is no coincidence that in the storage room, the butler utilized such a religious vocabulary: “I do not believe” (chapter 62); “beg”, “trust” a synonym for faith, “soul”, ” (chapter 108) “Save” (chapter 108) Moreover, I would like to outline that the main lead was seen sitting while looking up (chapter 83) It looks like Yoon Seungho was praying, when Lee Jihwa opened the door. This means that Yoon Seungho has been treating Kim as his idol, his highest priest. Besides, doctor Frost explained why people become victims of brainwashing. (doctor Frost, chapter 191). This description fits to the shed, the lord was not only cornered mentally, but also physically.

But since the shed plays such an important role in the story, I wondered why the storage room from the mansion was not shown in season 1 [As a reminder, for me, in chapter 1, the painter was brought to father Lee’s propriety] That’s how I recalled this scene, the butler standing in front of the gate of the barn. (chapter 32) What was he doing there, and why was he looking at the bedchamber? It is because he imagined that after the sex session, Yoon Seungho would send the painter to the shed as a punishment for his desertion. Let’s not forget that during the day, the whole staff had been beaten by their master. Besides, I would like to point out that the staff in season 3 viewed the painter as a spoiled brat, for he was receiving the lord’s favors. (chapter 98) Consequently, I deduce that when the valet got punished in season 3, he portrayed the painter as a tattler for that reason. He didn’t want to become the scapegoat in the end. (Chapter 77) At the same time, receiving treatment from the physician, Kim could say that the lord regretted his decision. These new discoveries reinforce my prediction that the painter is doomed to become the next scapegoat!! Yet, chance is on the couple’s side. On the other hand, this signifies that someone will have to become sacrificed!

4. The priest and his disciple’s discussion

Now it is time to focus on the argument between the butler and the surrogate son. While many viewed this discussion as something positive, for the butler cried (chapter 108) and apologized to the noble (chapter 108) for his wrong choices, I come to the opposite interpretation. Naturally, if the manhwalovers compare the butler’s apology in the shed to the one in the library, (chapter 77) it really looks like Kim is sincere. He is no longer standing, he is now weeping. Finally, he is not blaming someone else (the kisaeng), but himself. (chapter 108) Nevertheless, for me, everything is an illusion, and you can only detect the manipulations, the moment you examine closely Kim’s words.

First, it starts with the butler’s statement. (chapter 108) Kim feigned ignorance, and the lord confronted him with his lie, he admits that in reality he knew something. (chapter 108) He had not told him about the shaman’s house on purpose. He had hidden the truth by omission. He justified his decision by using the “townsfolk” and their liking of creating gossips. However his real task was to protect his lord’s interest and inform him about everything. He made a decision without his lord’s permission, and as such he usurped his authority. He acted, as if he knew what was the best for Yoon Seungho. But this doesn’t end. What infuriated me the most are these two declarations:

  • : While many judged the confession from Kim about his constant betrayal and abandonment as something positive, I paid more attention to the second sentence: “I’ll regret”. He is employing the future and not the present tense. This stands in opposition to Lee Jihwa’s regret: (chapter 61) The red-haired master utilized the present perfect tense, which is a combination of the past and present!! This time reveals that the young man was about to move on. On the other hand, the butler is either referring to the past and to the future, but not to the now! This means, he has no regret right now. He is projecting himself in the future. He implies “regret”, but he is not truly admitting it. Finally, when the childhood friend came to regret his choice, he voiced it outside the barn!! (chapter 61) This contrast outlines that the storage room is the place of illusion or false faith.
  • (chapter 108): Here, my blood was literally boiling, when I read his second “confession”, because here he was now omitting Yoon Seungho. It was, as if the protagonist was not existing. His words were actually reflecting a new betrayal towards the main lead. Here, he was vowing loyalty to Baek Na-Kyum and not to Yoon Seungho!! He insinuated that if he was taking care of the painter, he was protecting Yoon Seungho’s interests. However, the artist and the noble are two different persons. Imagine the following situation: The main lead gets arrested for “murder”, the butler could justify his vanishing, passivity and silence by saying that he needs to take away the painter from the mansion so that the latter avoids getting into trouble as well. As you can see, he would keep his promise, but he would sacrifice Yoon Seungho. With his words, he was insinuating that he only had two choices: the elder master Yoon or the painter. Besides, once the lord were to be removed, Kim could put the whole blame on the painter afterwards. If he had not left the house… That’s the reason why I viewed the last statement as the biggest treason. In reality, he was not vowing loyalty to the main lead. This scene was a reflection from episode 30, where the artist had pledged loyalty to the main lead (chapter 30) and this in front of people. This explicates why the butler got grabbed in the storage room (chapter 108) like the painter in the courtyard. (chapter 30) We could say that it was the butler’s karma for his past manipulation. He had been the one who had encouraged the painter to flee the mansion (chapter 29/30). But this doesn’t end here. When the artist vowed his loyalty to the protagonist in the courtyard, the latter was present, which is not the case here. The artist is left in the dark. (chapter 108) He has no idea about the valet’s oath. Therefore we should consider it as inexistent. This means, if the painter got arrested, the valet could put the blame on the artist and say that he is trying to protect the lord’s interests, to save his skin. That’s the reason why I consider this confession from the butler as a huge sign of his culpability and dishonesty. Moreover, he is not feeling any remorse.

Besides, note that he never admitted that he truly cared for Baek Na-Kyum, he simply suggests it. (chapter 108) Where is the personal pronoun “I” here? Nowhere. Only the lord cares for the painter, this was the butler’s declaration in the end. But what about the tears? How could he fake the crying?

First, the author never let us see the valet’s eyes and not even his mouth. The tears were implied with the sound “hic” and the drops of water falling onto the ground: (chapter 108) My avid readers will certainly recall the following rule which the story is based on. Each scene will be reflected in a previous season. (chapter 81) When the lord had wounded his lover, when he was in a dissociative state, he had perspired so much that his sweat was falling like tears!! As you can see, fear could be the reason why drops of water were falling. Let’s not forget that the main lead had treated Kim very harshly and even threatened to have him killed, something he had never done before. (chapter 108) Kim had reasons to get scared and to sweat.

Besides, note how the valet keeps switching Yoon Seungho’s title (either young master , chapter 108, or my lord ), a sign that he is not truly recognizing him as his real lord. One might refute my interpretation, because Kim voiced regrets in this scene. (chapter 108) However, the manhwalover should question this. Why did he regret that day? It is because he had revealed his true thoughts about Yoon Seungho to the painter, and he got reprimanded from the artist. Besides, according to me, he had hoped that the artist would leave the mansion due to the altercation. In addition, when he mentioned this scene, he wanted to appear as honest, because he had no idea if the artist had leaked this conversation to Yoon Seungho. Finally, just because he told the truth here, we shouldn’t judge the butler’s confession as verity. To conclude, for me, the valet was not really remorseful, he was more acting.

One might argue that my interpretation about Yoon Seungho was wrong. It was his choice to live in debauchery, as it admitted it in the shed. (chapter 108) However, this is another illusion which can be easily refuted. (chapter 108) This memory is the same than the painter’s (chapter 1). However, this is not possible, for the painter had never gone to the main lead’s mansion before. He had this memory, when he met him at the inn for the first time. This vision was a reference to the gibang. But note that in the lord’s statement, he never mentioned the kisaeng house. He only invited the nobles to his “bedchamber”. The words don’t match the picture. This admission was actually exposing the manipulation, a fake memory… the “traces of brainwashing”. Besides, the manipulator had employed the same MO like mentioned above. Since it happened once (chapter 8), then it was the same in the past. Because we saw guests in the lord’s mansion, we could be tempted to assume that this represents Yoon Seungho’s true past. Concerning the painting, Kim just needed to explain why lord Yoon had barged in his mansion. He had sent the painting to his father to provoke him. (chapter 108) In other words, the butler had acted on his own, and informed his master afterwards, when this information was necessary in order to protect himself. As you already know, for me, the butler had definitely acted on his own. But why does Kim need to deform reality so much? It is because he was present, when the young boy was abused sexually and he did nothing. He needs to erase the “traces” of the rape so that his culpability will not come to the surface. Just like the painter, Yoon Seungho has totally forgotten the sexual abuse. Besides, he never mentioned the incidents about the shed to the painter, only the bedchamber. (Chapter 87) Here, he was already hiding his guilt by turning Yoon Chang-HYeon into the main culprit. He is responsible for the lord’s suffering.

But the problem is that Yoon Seungho is escaping more and more from his claws, and his manipulations are now turned more and more against him!! The reason why I was first disappointed is that the young master was not able to detect the contradiction. He had accepted the butler’s version as a truth from his past (chapter 68), but he had heard a different story from the painter. (chapter 93) However, now I understand why Yoon Seungho was not able to discern the hypocrisy from the assistant. (chapter 188) It is related to the long brainwashing he was exposed for so many years and the lord’s low self-esteem. Thus I perceive this argument in the storage room as a new version of episode 40, a confrontation between the painter and the scholar. But who had been defeated in the shed? Yoon Seungho was still the loser, for he kept his distance from his lover afterwards. (chapter 108) He was making sure that no one would know that the painter was his weakness. (chapter 108) The new version of episode 50-51!! However, this was totally pointless, for the painter was living his bedchamber. His position was the proof that the painter was still favored, though the artist feared to be abandoned by the painter.

I am now full of optimism. Why? It is because Yoon Seungho’s role is to remove all the painter’s wounds from his heart and mind! Don’t forget that in season 1, the main lead was the painter’s emancipator. And as a reward for his good deed, the lord’s last rule will be removed. How can this happen`?

(doctor Frost, chapter 187) This means that the couple has to communicate and the painter will interrogate his lover. (chapter 187) But this deprogramming is not pleasant, for the destruction of believes leads the victim to question everything afterwards. What caught my attention is that the painter went to the library, the symbol for “knowledge and education” which stands in opposition to the shed. This is no coincidence. Brainwashing is the antonym for insight. (chapter 108) In addition, the lord was dressed like in episode 36, he had the green hanbok. (chapter 36) Back then, the painter didn’t talk to the owner of the mansion. Finally, this episode is connected to the lord’s memories: (chapter 36) That’s how I had this revelation. The lord’s suffering is also linked to the library. From my perspective, the young master was dragged from the library to the shed at some point. (chapter 77) I had already pointed out that in episode 77, the main lead had been dragged on multiple occasions, for he was dressed differently, and the servants would be different. Because I had described that the lord’s mind had been manipulated by indoctrination and the butler had confessed, I deduce that the next episode will contain elements from episode 48/49. (chapter 49) That’s the moment the painter dropped the last principle from the scholar and kisaeng. For me, something similar will take place, but such a deprogramming is painful. From my point of view, Jung In-Hun will be mentioned, as in the same place, the scholar had mentioned the painter’s past and future. (chapter 40) (chapter 40) Since the shed embodies the valet’s betrayal, the lord voiced his abandonment issues there. On the other hand, the library symbolizes the teacher’s abandonment. This is not random. Baek Na-Kyum can not read, the symbol of the learned sir’s negligence. Hence I am expecting a new confession from the artist, like this scene: (Tweet) So far, the artist has never spoken ill of the teacher. To conclude, the library is the place where both protagonists will experience a new liberation! For me, episode 108 and 109 are focused on education, responsibility, memories and truth. That’s the reason why I am suspecting that the painter’s words will trigger the lord’s memories so that the verity about his own past will come to the surface.

Before closing this essay, I would like to point out two other thoughts. The storage room has another symbolism. It is connected to wealth and gathering. This would explain why Kim likes the storage room, indicating his materialistic side, and Yoon Seungho was his bird of fortune, for the former came to enjoy a good life. As you already know, he became the true owner of the mansion, the “ghost lord”. Finally, I would like to outline a detail which caught my attention: the jar in the shed with a new lit. (chapter 108) What is this jar doing there? It was not present, when the painter was kept captive there. (chapter 62) My avid readers will certainly recall my theory that a corpse was hidden in jar!! In other words, I am more than ever convinced that there’s still a corpse hidden in the mansion. This is important, because this represents the condition for the appearance of the scapegoat mechanism. Someone has to take the fall for the schemers and accomplices.

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: Uncatchable 👻 ghosts 👻👻 in town 🌆

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

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.

1. The man with the purple hanbok

When manhwaphiles saw the man with the purple hanbok (chapter 106) strolling through town, they jumped to the conclusion that this must be lord Song! They remembered the recollection from Lee Jihwa. (Chapter 83) However, since I have been examining Painter Of The Night so closely, I learned to pay attention to details. Consequently, I recognized very quickly that Yoon Seungho was not chasing one ghost, but he was running after 3 different people (chapter 106) impersonating „lord Song“ (chapter 106) If you look very attentively at the hanboks, you will realize the slight differences. First, the shade of the cloth diverges, then one cloth has a pattern, the other hanbok none. The form of the gat is also a little different, just like the color of the hair diverges. Besides, the readers should keep in their mind that in season 3, we had at least 3 bodies, though I am suspecting 4 corpses: (chapter 94) (chapter 97) (chapter 97) and (chapter 101) Thus I come to the following conclusion that these 3 persons wearing the purple hanbok are not the “real lord Song”, the one who tormented the protagonist. In my eyes, he was watching the protagonist from the tower! (chapter 106) Let’s not forget that each scene is reflected in each season! And in episode 37, we had this memory from the fake servant: (chapter 37) The empty street was the indication that the monarch was present in the city. And now pay attention to the situation in episode 105: (chapter 105) Why is the street empty, when it was not the case during the night in episode 69? (chapter 69) For me, the pedophile was in the kisaeng house. But let’s return our attention to episode 37. (chapter 37) The view was divulging that the person was watching the town from above… so it had to be from the gate. Such a scene should be repeated, as the story is going in circle. Besides, note that the lord is also wearing a purple hanbok with a design. This means that he can be recognized very easily and this from afar! (chapter 106) To sum up, for me, the 4th “lord Song” was present in this scene, but the protagonist couldn’t detect his presence, for the other “shadows” were there to divert his attention.

2. The purpose of lord Song’s ghosts

But what was the purpose to use these „ghosts“ embodying lord Song? For me, they served two purposes. Since the painter had refused to be separated from his lover, they had to create a subterfuge, to create the illusion that Yoon Seungho was abandoning Baek Na-Kyum. In other words, they wanted the painter to witness how the main lead would break his own promise. (Chapter 106) As you can see, they used a prank to wound the artist. Their goal was to incite the painter to return to the kisaeng house. He should cut ties with the main lead, as the latter is a man with a fickle nature. Yes, episode 106 was the negative version of chapter 75. (chapter 75) That’s the reason why the couple was sent to the same inn. However, I don’t think that they had expected the painter’s fainting. (chapter 106) For me, this is a blessing in disguise.

3. The helping hands in the trick

But how could they plan such a „joke“ so quickly, for the painter was supposed to stay in the gibang? Here, it is important that the manhwalovers remember what the lord did before eating with his companion. He stopped at the tailor’s shop!! (Chapter 106) The latter had to be informed not to send the new clothes to the kisaeng house, but to his own mansion. That’s the reason why Baek Na-Kyum asked this question to the butler. (chapter 106) That’s how the schemer and his accomplices knew for sure that their original plan had not worked out. And if you read my previous analyses, you are aware that I had discovered the existence of two tailors!! (chapter 106) Observe how the tailor in the background is wearing his scarf. It is the same way than Yoon Seungho‘s! But now take a closer look at the tailor from episode 45 (chapter 45) and 74 (chapter 74) This tailor is wearing the scarf the same way than the artist‘s. Finally, in episode 64, the manhwalovers could see the face of the second tailor. : (chapter 64) In the past, I had already outlined the divergences in the body shape and the clothes, but the most visible evidence is the scarf!! Finally, I would like my avid readers to detect that the tailor from chapter 64 has been calling the main lead master Yoon, and not lord Yoon Seungho. This shows that this man is involved not only in the recent prank, but also in the main lead‘s suffering. He is not recognizing Yoon Seungho as a real lord. The usage of different hanboks is the proof that the tailor is an accomplice in the latest trick. But this also explicates why the tricksters had not planned the artist’s fainting. First, he had been able to run after his lover. (chapter 105) Besides, this is how Baek Na-Kyum acted, when he saw his lord looking at him: (chapter 106) The fake smile from Baek Na-Kyum was hiding his true condition, he was still suffering from PTSD. Nonetheless, for the tailor and the other witnesses, it looked like the artist was strong. Nonetheless, since the main lead had learned in the past to fake his smile, he could detect that his lover was far from feeling well. (chapter 106) But there is another reason why they had not predicted such an outcome: the doctor!! They had to ensure that the lord’s path never crosses the physician’s! That’s the reason why the manhwaphiles never saw him in episode 106. He was like a ghost. But there is more to it.

What caught my attention is the couple was first encouraged to eat before meeting the physician. Here, it is implied that they are not at the medicine store. (chapter 106) Yet, in the Spanish version, the butler informs them that it’s soon their turn. This means that they are next to the medicine store. But let’s return to our main observation. Why was the couple pushed to „eat“? For the painter had wounded his hand, the first priority would have been to ask for an immediate treatment. Since the valet mentioned that it was about time to go to the medicine story, the manhwalovers should wonder why it was time. Thanks to the Spanish version, we know that according to the valet, the doctor had been treating other people before indicating that lord Yoon could not receive special treatment.

Secondly, Byeonduck drew such a panel where you could see the kitchen outdoors: (chapter 106) As you already know, each picture contains important information. Why did the artist create such an image? That’s how the mortar and the grinder caught my attention. I had seen these tools before. (chapter 57) Yes in the kitchen of the physician! Then in a different image, you can the kitchen with the stool and the circle with the shamanism drawing right behind the lord’s back. (chapter 106) We assumed that the couple was eating in an inn, but it is true? Finally, in the shelves, the manhwalovers can see small packages hanging around, (chapter 106), they look exactly like the medicine Kim fetched in episode 55. (chapter 55) Because of these parallels, I started wondering if the couple and the readers had not been fooled in the end. They were actually sitting in the medicine store, but due to the butler’s words and episode 75, the manhwalovers had the impression that the couple was in an inn. And the Spanish version seems to confirm my suspicion. I had already outlined that the furniture and shelves in the library had been switched. So it could be the same with the doctor’s office. Besides, the form of the building reminded me a lot of the house from the physician’s. (chapter 106) (chapter 74) Once you remove the cupboard from the side, you have a patio where you can eat. Under this new light, it explains why Yoon Seungho would say this to the butler: (chapter 106) It is because they were already there! And this would explain why the painter went to the restroom! (chapter 106) This coincides to the night of the abduction executed by No-Name! (chapter 59) To conclude, there was another ghost in episode 106, the invisible doctor. No matter what, the couple was not supposed to see the physician. Why? It is because he would have noticed the existence of two different doctors. That’s the reason why Kim acted as a mediator! (chapter 106) This was not to help his master and the painter at all. Quite the opposite. He had to cover up his own wrongdoings and help the schemer. Therefore it is not surprising that the valet was confronted with the artist’s fainting! (chapter 106) The latter had played a mean prank on Baek Na-Kyum!! Yes, you are reading it correctly. Now, you are wondering when the valet fooled the pure painter. Observe that Kim had joined his master (chapter 106), while the latter was waiting for his lover. He was standing next to him. (chapter 106) But look where he was standing, when Baek Na-Kyum saw him: (chapter 106) He had barely moved… maybe run for 4 meters! How could he be out of breath? Besides, why would he scream like that, when the lord was standing next to him? (chapter 106) It is because he needed Baek Na-Kyum to hear his lover’s departure!! Because we see this panel, we assume that the valet was left in the dark, especially after witnessing such a scene. (chapter 106) Our brain is trying to fill the blanks. But the moment you realize that Kim didn’t run such a long distance to be out of breath, you will realize that this “abandonment” was staged. This was the reflection of chapter 85, another fake run! (chapter 85)

In episode 106, Yoon Seungho just had to ask Kim to wait for him there with Baek Na-Kyum, similar to this scene! (chapter 86) Thus the butler got punished for his acting. He has now to take care of an unconscious painter. (chapter 106) And now, Kim is put in front of a choice. What should he do with the fragile artist? In my eyes, no matter what he chooses, he will get into trouble. Why? If he brings him to the doctor, the young noble will question the identity of the physician. Why is he not the same doctor than in the past? If he decides to bring him to the gibang, the lord will never believe that this was the artist’s choice. Besides, according to me, the noble asked his servant to wait for him there. Finally, if he brings him to the mansion, the lord will question his choice, for the artist needed the presence of a doctor. So the moment Yoon Seungho returns to the place where he left the butler and the painter, he could get scared, for they are no longer there. Thus the main lead could jump to the conclusion that his companion has been “kidnapped” again, especially after seeing the purple man circulating around them and hearing such grapevines. (chapter 106) Besides, I have another evidence that the painter got fooled by the valet. According to my observation, there is always a reflection within the same episode. Since the lord got fooled and was incited to follow the man with the purple hanbok, the artist had to experience the same. However, while the one got scared out of abandonment issues, the other got worried because of “lord Song”‘s obsession! Besides, because neither the butler nor the physician got punished for their crimes (passivity, silence, lies and disobedience), both need to receive their “punishment”. Let’s not forget what Yoon Seungho had said to the artist back then: (chapter 58) Kim had usurped his authority, he had made a decision without his master’s permission.

Moreover, I would like to outline that the place where the artist fainted is actually very close to the place when Jung In-Hun had dragged him. (chapter 24) The gate serves as the indication. (chapter 24) And in that episode, the artist got dragged twice. (chapter 24) First, it was the scholar, then the butler. However, in that scene, the butler had lied to the artist, for the noble had never requested to meet the artist in the pavilion. From my point of view, he was still hunting in the woods. As you can see, episode 24 contained all the elements of an abduction, though it was not perceptible. That’s the reason why I am suspecting that Yoon Seungho might think that his lover has been kidnapped again, especially after hearing such horrible gossips. Nonetheless, since the painter fainted, the valet will be forced to take care of Baek Na-Kyum. In addition, observe that the butler brought back the unconscious painter to the mansion, though the doctor was right next to them! This shows that Kim and the physician had not the artist‘s best interests in heart. He should have been treated right away.

4. The purple hanbok

But why did they utilize a purple hanbok in order to attract Yoon Seungho‘s attention? We have to envision that this mean prank is the negative version of the incident in chapter 76!! (Chapter 76) Coincidence versus trick! They wished to scare Yoon Seungho, to let him think that „lord Song“ knew about his crime and was about to denunciate him. Yes, in my eyes, the man with the purple hanbok embodies treason and was the reason why Yoon Seungho got arrested and tortured in the past!! Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the lord would get so mad at his childhood friend. (Chapter 59) But the moment Yoon Seungho’s mother killed herself, it became clear that her son had been unfairly arrested and tormented. So someone had to take the fall for the injustice, the real lord Song. the (chapter 82) Nonetheless, there is no ambiguity that in reality the one behind the denunciation was father Lee. But the purple hanbok is connected not only to the arrest and torture, but also to the sexual abuse. Thus the painter had such a memory in the gibang: (chapter 1) The latter is the witness of Yoon Seungho’s sexual abuse. And what did the women say in the street? (chapter 106) The nobles would lust after men and women. Thus I am suspecting that Yoon Seungho won’t act like the schemers had planned. He will get the impression that the nobles might be still lusting after his lover, and the man with the purple hanbok is behind this. Yoon Seungho could remember Min’s words (chapter 102), Lee Jihwa was behind the scheme… and what had Lee Jihwa done in the past? He had sent a letter in his name. (chapter 59) Back then, Yoon Seungho assumed that his childhood friend knew nothing… but now, he is seeing the ghost lord Song circulating in town. So he could jump to the conclusion that the Lees have been helping lord Song. Finally, the manhwaworms will certainly recall the red-haired master’s confession, he knew everything!!. (chapter 57)

In my eyes, the women were spreading rumors on purpose!! They could recognize the main lead with his hanbok. (chapter 106) And this scene is a reflection of episode 64, where the two women were ignorant about the incident of the previous night. (chapter 64) Once again, this proves that the tailor is involved in the scheme.

The person behind this hoped to scare the noble, believing that Yoon Seungho was a superstitious man. Why? It is because he has the poem composed by Yoon Seungho. (chapter 106) The Spring Poem is actually reflected in this scenery: (chapter 106) This explicates why there is the refraction. During that day, both main leads are making important discoveries which indicates their relationship will only get reinforced.

When the lord wrote the poem in episode 92, what did the readers see there? A man in the shadow observing the couple, but the main lead had not detected his presence! (chapter 92) Yet this doesn’t end here. Episode 92 (chapter 92) is the positive reflection of episode 106: (chapter 106) This is no coincidence that there is the tower and gate in the background. From my point of view, the schemers are trying to manipulate the lord through rumors. But the puppet master is overlooking one important aspect, the gossips can be interpreted very differently. Besides, while the woman pointed out the existence of a manhunt against nobles (chapter 106), she contradicted her statement right after. (chapter 106) If nobles were involved in this, why did they kill the son of lord Shin? Besides, let’s not forget that Yoon Seungho never ordered the fire in the shrine and he never killed lord Shin! This means that he is innocent. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that contrary to their expectation, the lord won’t decide to leave the painter behind because of the imminent misfortune! From my point of view, Yoon Seungho could ask his lover to paint a lucky charm on their house, the tiger! (chapter 105) That way, the artist would feel that his master needs his help and talent. Moreover, I have the feeling that the main lead will go to the authorities and ask for their assistance. (chapter 101) Why did the shaman’s house get burned? How come that the son of lord Shin got killed? But we know for sure that the murderer had staged his death, he died because of a tiger. (chapter 103) Why are such rumors circulating in town and who are the witnesses? (chapter 106) Moreover, it is not random that the woman gossiping is similarly dressed than the maid in the kitchen. (chapter 103) As you can see, the schemers are no longer able to control Yoon Seungho and his lover, for both are supported by the gods. Chance stands on their side!

And this prediction leads me to the following observation. In town, there exists another ghost, the captain of the guards and his officers! (chapter 100) (chapter 101) (chapter 104) Though there is a manhunt, where is he? (chapter 106) As you can see, his absence is contradicting their statement. On the other hand, Yoon Seungho heard from the women this. (chapter 106) (chapter 106) So he could ask about the identity of the culprits and the witnesses, the new version of this scene. (chapter 98) To conclude, while the schemers thought that due to his crime, Yoon Seungho would lie low and cut ties with his lover, due to their meddling, they achieved the opposite. The lord will request an investigation… something he has never done before. He could even denunciate Lee Jihwa (chapter 67), that way he can escape punishment. This means that Black Heart’s last confession (and lie) could help the lord to protect himself and his lover. Finally, if Yoon Seungho were to mention the purple hanbok to his lover, the latter’s memory could get triggered and he could remember this night: (chapter 01) To conclude, the mysterious man with the purple hanbok is bringing the couple closer than before, whereas he hoped to achieve the opposite.

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: «Thank god 🙏 he didn’t see nor hear a thing about that awful matter »

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

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.

The title of this essay comes from the following picture: (chapter 105) „Thank god, he didn’t see nor hear a thing about that awful matter“. This is what Heena said in the original version. [Here I would like to thank my follower @katamins again for her help]

1. Heena’s words

What caught my attention is that in the Korean version, the kisaeng employed the expression „Thank god“, displaying not only her relief but also her religiousness. In my eyes, Byeonduck‘s intention was to expose Heena‘s religion one more time, she is a Christian. Another important aspect is that her statement implies that Baek Na-Kyum can not testify about „that awful matter“, for he saw and heard nothing. The problem is the idiom „that awful matter“ is really ambiguous. Which incident is she referring to? Yoon Seungho‘s crime in the shaman’s house or her „murder“? While many readers only thought about Black heart’s execution, I believe that the noona was referring to her own “execution” as well. Why? It is because the lord refused Baek Na-Kyum to see his own sister. (chapter 105) He desired to spare his heart. To conclude, “that awful matter” is referring to the whole prank and its consequences.

On the other hand, in the English version the kisaeng‘s declaration is more precise. Because of the expression „that terrible day“, it becomes obvious that Heena is referring to her lies and manipulations in the gibang. (Chapter 97) At the same time, the idiom includes the staff‘s tricks as well: the corpse in front of the gate and the maids‘ badmouthing (Chapter 97) (chapter 98), because it happened during the day and at downfall. Due to this expression, the readers can detect the presence of Yoon Seungho’s white lie. The painter had clearly mentioned what he had heard before. (Chapter 104) However, he had been silenced by his lover, when the latter suggested to him to view everything as a nightmare. The lord made the mistake not to listen to the victim and witness.

On the other hand, if we take the noona‘s original testimony into consideration, we get the impression that the artist can not testify about the night of his „abduction“ and the murders . It is because he didn‘t see or hear anything. Since the painter was unconscious, when the lord arrived, the latter truly believes that his companion saw and heard nothing. Thus Baek Na-Kyum has no memory. He knows nothing, hence he can not remember a thing: (chapter 105) With such a contrast, the manhwalovers can detect the link between ignorance and absence of memories. To conclude, in both versions, the main lead is “lying” out of ignorance. This is the positive version of “ignorance is a blessing”. Hence the noona thinks herself safe.

But like I have already pointed out in the previous analysis, the painter was present, when she revealed her complicity. (Chapter 99) It was clear that her brother would meet the noble, as their meeting didn’t surprise her. She was more upset that Baek Na-Kyum was unconscious. (chapter 99) However, her question „What’s wrong with Na-Kyum?“ divulges her hypocrisy and acting. How could she not realize that her sibling had been beaten? (Chapter 99) His head was bleeding, and the black guards were carrying sticks. It was clear that his state was not caused by an illness. To conclude, the calling “lord Jihwa” is the proof of her complicity, though in front of Yoon Seungho it serves as an excuse to portray herself as a victim. (chapter 105) Thus I deduce that Heena thinks, the painter could not witness her acting in front of the scholar’s house, for his head was turned around and he was not moving. She feels secure concerning that night, while I am expecting the opposite. Nonetheless, her past behavior in the kisaeng house represents a source of danger for her. That’s the reason why she has to hide the “attempted murder” from her brother. The moment Heena mentions that she has been hurt, the painter won’t believe her. Why? It is because in the kisaeng house, he has not forgotten her words: (chapter 97) Even if she was “fooled”, the artist can only reproach her stupidity. Remember her harsh words, she had called him stupid: (chapter 97) She had helped Min, and she can not claim ignorance. As you can see, Yoon Seungho was encouraged to hide the “attempted murder” from Baek Na-Kyum for selfish reasons. Therefore it is no coincidence that when the lord visited Heena, he made sure that his lover wouldn‘t see Heena in bed. (Chapter 105) The painter was kept in the dark about her “failed assassination”. It was, as if this had never happened. Yoon Seungho was convinced that if Baek Na-Kyum heard about this, he would feel guilty. Indirectly, he was blamed for her injuries. On the other hand, this decision has huge repercussions. It was, as if Yoon Seungho was erasing the traces of the attempted murder against Heena. It was, as if it had never taken place, which is correct, for it had been a subterfuge. Hence later she can not claim that she has been a victim of the nobles’ brutality.

Finally, I would like to point out that the head-kisaeng was acting as a poor victim in front of Yoon Seungho. Imagine that a month has already passed, but she is still in bed, (chapter 105) though she was not beaten, slapped and punched like her brother. Don’t you find it weird that she remains in bed, though she can still walk? (chapter 105) She has now the perfect excuse to avoid nobles. She has been hurt, hence she can not work. The lord never questioned her attitude, for he wished himself that the painter would take a rest and remain in bed. (Chapter 104) This explicates why later the lord was hugging his lover under the cover. (Chapter 104) Hence I conclude that Heena must have thought the same way about Yoon Seungho. „Thank god, he didn’t see or hear a thing about that awful matter“. He has no idea about her altercations with her brother in the kisaeng house. It is important, because our beloved seme has the impression that the noona has her brother’s best interests at heart, but actually he is wrong. In my opinion, the relationship between Heena and his lover serves as a mirror to his relationship with Yoon Seungwon. So far, the young noble doesn’t suspect his brother to have betrayed him. Note that he blames his father more than his younger sibling.

2. Memory illusions

While reading episode 105, we discovered how Heena was saved. (chapter 105) Yet, this incident was presented as Yoon Seungho’s memory. This panel could be used as an evidence that my theory, Heena was present next to the shaman’s shrine during the bloodbath, was wrong. Nonetheless, this image didn’t make me change my mind. Why? I paid attention to details and judged this rescue as “fake” again. The servants had a drop of sweat on their face, the symbol for deception. Secondly, the kisaeng was wet, while the staff’s clothes weren’t damp. How did they save her then? Besides, where are the foot prints? Moreover, where was the head cover? (chapter 99) Finally, her hands and feet were not tied. So where did the items go? Since we saw her “execution”, we are the witnesses, and as such we know the truth about that “awful matter”, but it is not the case for the lord. This image contains so many errors, hence it can not reflect reality.

This observation led me to the following question: when did the rescue happen exactly? Besides, how could the lord have seen her, when he could barely leave the painter’s side? He spent the whole night with the painter. (chapter 103) Hence he could have never been outside the mansion. That’s how I realized that the author was presenting us a false memory. This means that the manhwalovers are facing an implanted memory. But how could this happen? First, false memory is quite normal and is often of no consequence. But a false memory relayed during criminal testimony might lead to the conviction of an innocent person. As the manhwalovers can detect, it represents a serious problem.

In fact, everyone is prone to false memory distortions, but people with mental illness are more susceptible to “memory illusion”. It is the same for persons who have issues to differentiate between reality and fiction. Since Yoon Seungho is suffering from PTSD and often questions his sense of reality, (chapter 58), it makes him particularly vulnerable to false memories.

But how is it possible to implant fake memories? Let’s not forget that memory is working with associations, as the former is a network of cells. Thus the connections between these cells can been severed. And the moment the cells are reconnected, the brain is trying to fill the blanks. And that’s how false memories can arise. But there exist more factors.

First, it is related to inaccurate perception.

“Sometimes we see things that aren’t there and miss obvious things that are right in front of us.” Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/how-do-false-memories-form-2795349

We have the perfect example in episode 105. Because of the butler’s following testimony (chapter 104), the lord and even the readers imagined to see medicine in the white bowl! (chapter 105) Besides, the author had always connected the drug with the tray. (chapter 23) As you can see, the readers interpreted this scene due to associations. Nonetheless, like mentioned in the previous analysis, the different color and the traces on the edge were the evidences that it was ink. (chapter 36) Besides, Heena was in bed indicating that she was still weak. The circumstances led people to have a different perception of “verity”!! Only through the mind’s eye, the manhwalovers can detect that this scene was staged.

Then the other cause is interference. This signifies that as soon as new information appears, it can affect old memories or the reverse. Experience, prejudice and knowledge have an influence on memories.

“Our minds try to fill in the missing spaces, often using current knowledge as well as beliefs or expectations.” Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/how-do-false-memories-form-2795349

And this aspect is visible in the lord’s memory either. (chapter 105) Observe that the servant on the right is acting like Yoon Seungho: (chapter 103) The protagonist projected his own thoughts and emotions onto one servant: shock! (chapter 105) Secondly, the kisaeng has the same body posture than the painter after the first abduction. (chapter 61) This was interference by excellence. Besides, emotions can affect your memories. Since the lord was so under shock after witnessing the painter’s unconsciousness, it is not surprising that he imagined to have witnessed this scene. At the same time, when he left the shrine in trance, he could have overlooked the presence of a third person… similar to Lee Jihwa next to the shed. That’s how he doesn’t recall anything from that night except his crime. He didn’t see and hear the person by his side. Where is the sword? Where did he get the hanbok from?

“Researchers have found that people tend to be more likely to remember events connected to strong emotions, but that the details of such memories are often suspect. Retelling important events can also lead to a false belief in the accuracy of the memory.” Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/how-do-false-memories-form-2795349

And now, you have the explanation why the lord is blaming his father the entire time and no one else. Finally, I would like to remind the readers that the main lead had tried to commit suicide during that night. Thus he went to the pound. (chapter 102) Therefore it is not astonishing that he imagined a similar scenery.

Another cause for false memory is misinformation. And we have the perfect illustration in chapter 1: (chapter 1) Baek Na-Kyum thought to have seen “Yoon Seungho” as huge sodomite, yet he only connected the name to the face after meeting the lord for the first time. (chapter 1) This shows that the artist had only heard his name without seeing his face before. This explicates why the main lead’s gaze and facial expressions were similar (chapter 1) (chapter 1)

As you can see, Byeonduck left many clues for this interpretation: the noona’s rescue was fake, for it was a false memory. Finally, since the lord was present, when the servants had “discovered” Baek Na-Kyum, the negative reflection would be that he was not gone himself there. Finally, we have the confession from Yoon Seungho, he never saved her. Indirectly, he was admitting that he had not assisted them. (chapter 105)

As you can see, this image was the result of a combination of different events the lord had experienced himself. Hence I deduce that this memory was implanted through suggestions by the servant standing on the left side of the picture. The staff had never searched for the painter, hence one of the domestics had asked his master: (chapter 103)

On the other hand, he only narrated the main aspects, and let the lord fill the blanks. That’s how the lord created a false memory which feels so vivid that it seems real. But I have another proof for this theory. In the previous episode, the lord had tried to implant a false memory into the painter: (chapter 104) My avid readers can certainly recall the rule I had detected: each chapter will be reflected in the next!

But since Yoon Seungho was implanted a false memory, this signifies that it is the same for Baek Na-Kyum too! 😲 One detail caught my attention, the noona’s comment. She had detected that the painter used to feel anxious around Jung In-Hun. (chapter 105) How is it possible? Especially, when the painter said this: (chapter 94) Furthermore, the painter is associating the learned sir to the moon and as such the night. (chapter 94) Thus I am now suspecting that this image is a false memory. But I have another reason to think that the painter’s idolization was more the result of “brainwashing” and as such “false memories”.

The same noona had observed that she had not seen her donsaeng weep like that, since he was 5 years old! (chapter 105) How can she date this incident so precisely? The moment I read her testimony, I discovered that in episode 94 the author had never shown us the painter crying! (chapter 94) (chapter 94) (chapter 94) It was, as if the noonas had never been informed about the painter’s suffering and tears. This shows that Heena has been hiding many things from her colleagues. But there is more to it! The manhwaphiles saw the artist’s tears in his childhood. (chapter 68) But here he was much older!! Under this new perspective, I realized that the following image could have been a false memory: (chapter 68) Heena was misremembering that night, and she was misattributing the painter’s tears. In other words, she was confusing two incidents.

Misattribution: Have you ever mixed up the details of one story with the details of another? For example, while telling a friend about your last vacation you might mistakenly relate an incident that happened on a vacation you took several years ago.” Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/how-do-false-memories-form-2795349

And now, take a closer look to the painter’s tears in episode 105: (chapter 105) It is the same facial expression, though the redness around the eyes is more pronounced. This observation confirms that the noona’s memories in the kisaeng (chapter 68) were not reflecting reality. She idolized the scholar’s attitude, while she was portraying herself as the real victim. Thus I started wondering why the painter must have felt anxious around the learned sir. (chapter 105) One might question the veracity of the kisaeng’s testimony, but so far, I judge her as “innocent”, though she definitely helps Heena to fool the couple. In her mind, it is for her brother’s best interests. But let’s not forget that the teenager Yoon Seungho was exposed to sex in a brutal way (chapter 86), so the painter must have made a similar experience. In my analysis “Baek Na-Kyum’s foot“, I had already doubted the “warmth and happiness” of the scene. For me, the zoom on the painter’s foot was the clue for the painter’s suffering. And this interpretation was confirmed in episode 105. (chapter 105) He had run after his lover in socks. While in “Baek Na-Kyum’s foot”, I thought that this memory was true, I come now to a different signification. It was a false memory in order to hide a crime related to Heena. I would like to outline that in the kisaeng’s comment, we have the notion of “shame” and as such “guilt”. First, I thought of rape, but then it could be much simpler. The painter could have witnessed his noona having sex with the learned sir. But because he was too young, he misjudged the situation… as a virgin, she had to bleed. Because he saw blood, he imagined that the learned sir had hurt Heena. This would explain why the artist was afterwards anxious around the teacher. One might think that this is not terrible. But let’s not forget that as a kisaeng, she can not have sex like that. (chapter 105)

“After 1650 some kisaeng were assigned to a specific government office; these were called gwan-gi, and though officeholders were strictly forbidden from having sex with them, in practice they were usually expected and often forced to provide sex to these bureaucrats” Quoted from https://maggiemcneill.com/2013/09/12/the-kisaeng/

Besides, I doubt that the learned sir paid her for her services, hence according to regulations, the couple had committed a wrongdoing. Under this new perspective, it becomes comprehensible why Byeonduck let Heena witness their love session. (chapter 96) A similar situation had happened in the past.But because of her brother’s reaction, his huge tears, she got scared. (chapter 68) Hence my theory is that this image comes from that day, but she repressed it. Due to her guilty conscience and fears, she developed genophobia. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why later Heena caused trouble to Yoon Seungho in the kisaeng house. Her loss of virginity could have been detected. Finally, it explains why the kisaeng spoke about “fleeting and trivial emotions” (chapter 68) Through suggestions, she had been able to convince her brother that the learned sir was a nice person. This explicates why the caresses and hugs were used to silence the artist. By repeating to her brother, he liked Jung In-Hun, he came to develop such feelings. The kisaeng’s statement implies that the admiration for the teacher was not constant. (chapter 105) Her words represent a contradiction to Heena’s statement. (chapter 46) A change of heart versus “eternity”. This shows that the painter’s decision to go to the learned sir’s house was never his choice. He had simply followed Heena’s suggestion. She was definitely distorting his past. Furthermore I detected a strong connection between love and memory. (chapter 94) If it is a loved one, then it can only be a good memory. Therefore it is not surprising that by saying constantly saying that the painter likes the scholar, he is repressing the bad memories with the scholar (the beating in episode 34, the betrayal in chapter 29, his words in the library and his reproach about his job). So far, he only mentioned one negative incident.

But why did Byeonduck use false memories in her story? It is to make Yoon Seungho remember his true memories, which were repressed. However, in psychology, repressed memories are controversial. This explains why the author from „Memory illusions“, Julia Shaw, rejects this idea.

Research showed that the created memories often had the same theme as whatever the clinician was suggesting. So if the clinician suggested sexual abuse, the client would have memories of sexual abuse. If the clinician suggested alien abduction, the client would remember an alien abduction. And if the clinician suggested satanic ritual abuse, then the client would remember satanic ritual abuse. So this was a huge problem. This has led many psychologists and researchers to adamantly oppose any type of therapy that seeks to recover repressed memories, and they also would testify against any recovered memory in court.” Quoted from https://therapyinanutshell.com/repressed-memories-dissociative-amnesia-ptsd-and-the-memory-wars/

Through Baek Na-Kyum’s suffering, the lord is slowly reminded of his own tragedy. This means, his sexual abuse will come to the surface. At the same time, I believe that the painter is the witness of Yoon Seungho’s past suffering, but he has not discovered Yoon Seungho’s connection to the gibang. For me, the painter Baek Na-Kyum embodies true memories, especially since he is no longer under the influence of Heena.

3. The painter’s ignorance

The irony is that though the painter was kept in the dark about the lord’s intentions, he was capable to detect the verity!! How so? He was using his heart and his mind’s eye. First, though the lord’s sudden embrace had caught him by surprise, he had been able to interpret the true meaning: a goodbye (chapter 105) In the original version, this is what the artist thought:

“Earlier..why did it feel like the LAST…”

The last embrace! He had sensed the lord’s despair and heartache. They would no longer see each other. How do I know that the artist was caught by surprise? It is because he never reciprocated the hug. We have to envision a new version of this scene: (chapter 76) So while the painter was following his lover, the latter turned around and hugged him. Afterwards, he asked him to go to his noonas, for he needed to talk to Heena. Moreover, contrary to Yoon Seungho, Baek Na-Kyum paid attention to time. He was not lost in thoughts or had lost the sense of time (chapter 105) Despite being busy and talking to the kisaengs, the artist couldn’t forget his lover. All his attention was still focused on his lover. That’s the reason why he could catch the lord’s departure right on time. This means that Heena’s words didn’t become a reality. He could grasp the situation correctly, though he has no idea about the lord’s intentions. This has nothing to do with chance! It is thanks to the artist’s intelligence and sensibility.

But while he rushed to the lord’s side, he tripped and fell on his hand. (chapter 105) But the latter acted, as if his hand was not wounded. (chapter 105) He ignored his physical pain and heartache. (chapter 105) This is important, because the stumbling symbolizes the intervention of the gods… We have the perfect example at the end of season 3. The lord fell on his knees in front of the scholar’s house, hence there is a hand print on the snow. (chapter 100) That’s how he refused to view Lee Jihwa as the murderer of his lover, Baek Na-Kyum”. YES, the falling is the real manifestation of CHANCE! How so? I would like the manhwaphiles to keep in mind that chance is the antonym of trick and scheme! The latter are connected to plan and organization. Thus I come to the conclusion that the noble will decide to go to the doctor’s office in order to treat his lover’s hand. (chapter 105) Let’s not forget that Yoon Seungho treasures the artist’s hands so much. Besides, they are wearing the same scarfs than in episode 74. But this is something that the schemers are not expecting. After the start of season 4, I got aware that Yoon Seungho never saw the doctor clearly. When the main lead was brought there, (chapter 57) he was feverish so that he couldn’t pay attention to the physician. Besides, the man never remained by his side. Finally, in episode 74, the man never left the office!! (chapter 74) I conclude that Yoon Seungho never saw the physician for commoners! Besides, I doubt that he remembers him from his childhood. But this is not the same, when Baek Na-Kyum was ill. He met the other doctor twice. (chapter 33) (chapter 103) On the other hand, the artist assumes that the man in the office is Yoon Seungho’s doctor!! He heard his confession: (chapter 57) There exist two physicians in the city at least. That’s how a part of the truth will come to the surface! And who had fetched the doctor? (chapter 103) The staff… I would like to outline that in this panel, Kim was no longer seen next to the couple. (chapter 105), though he was still present here. (chapter 105) So where did he vanish? Probably to the mansion, for he had to warn the domestics that the artist would be returning! But if he left the couple behind, this means that he can’t witness what Yoon Seungho and Baek Na-Kyum will do next. And if they don’t go to the doctor, there is no ambiguity that the main lead will send for the doctor again. But according to me, the man disappeared. (chapter 103) To conclude, I am expecting that Yoon Seungho will make a huge discovery in the next episode… just like the painter did in the gibang.

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.

Painter Of The Night: The riddle of the enigmatic covers🔍🕵️‍♂️ (second version)

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.

The purpose of this essay is not just to interpret the illustrations for each season, but also to anticipate the future illustration of season 4. However, before revealing my new knowledge, it is important to explain how I came to develop these significations. This means that I will present new pieces of the puzzle “Painter Of The Night”. Everything started with this panel. (chapter 9)

1. The slap and hands

The noble with the mole had a red cheek and a bruised lip indicating that he had been slapped. Yet contrary to the painter, he had wounded on his right side. (chapter 1) This means that no one had witnessed the wrongdoing committed on the anonymous lord. However, it is important, because it exposes how a person committing a wrongdoing could escape scolding and punishment, even from the readers. There was no witness! Only an attentive reader could detect this. Hence you have the explanation why Yoon Seungho suffered for so long. There was either no witness or the persons chose to close an eye and remained silent. Since it was the negative reflection from Baek Na-Kyum’s slap and the main lead had used his right hand (chapter 11), I deduced that the culprit was left-handed. That’s how I could identify the culprit, lord Min. The lord was in reality left-handed. We could observe this in chapter 8 , episode 19 , chapter 33 and episode 43, but also in episode 76 , in chapter 96 , in episode 100 and finally in chapter 102 ! Yet, in other occasions like in episode 33 or 43, or 52 , he used his right hand! Thus one might argue that Min was simply ambidextrous. However, I can prove 100% that Black Heart is left-handed!😮 The evidence is the usage of the bow. (chapter 22) This is how a right-handed man shoots an arrow. On the other hand, we never saw Min using the bow. The bird was already wounded by the arrows, when the scene of the second hunt took place. (chapter 41) However, the manhwaphiles can discover the verity thanks to one detail: the bag of arrows. (chapter 22) As you can see, the bag is carried on the right side, but the arrows are almost touching the left shoulder. They need to be on the other side, since the scholar needs his right hand to grab the item. And now compare the position of Min’s bag. It is inclined in the opposite direction, hence the arrows are visible on his right side! (chapter 41) Thus the noble is carrying the bag (chapter 41) differently from the painter too. (chapter 22) Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Byeonduck never showed the Joker’s hunting skills. People would have noticed that he is left-handed immediately. She made sure to hide this important fact, thus within the same chapter Min was often portraying as using both hands. In episode 43, he employed his left hand to pour the alcohol in the glass, but then he switched the hand(chapter 43), when he gave the drink to Lee Jihwa.

This raised the following question. Why is he ambidextrous, though he prefers his left hand? It is because he has been conditioned to use his right hand. In Latin, sinister means left. This explicates why left is associated to sinister, dark and bad omen. Thus there exists this superstition that being left-handed is evil or a bad sign!! Till the end of the 20th Century, people in Europe were encouraged to write with their right hand. And now, if you compare all the scenes, where he employed his left-hand, you will detect that he was acting under the influence of his subconscious. In chapter 8, he was lusting after the painter; explicating why he got mad at his friend. Because of his nagging, Min could no longer ask his host to let the painter join the sex party. Therefore it is no coincidence that he slapped his friend with his left hand. Finally, we never saw his departure from the bedchamber! (chapter 9) Here, he was still present, but even before the end of the sex session, he had already vanished. (chapter 9) Finally, when the noble with the mole visited Lee Jihwa, the latter claimed that he had spent a long time at Yoon Seungho’s. (chapter 9), and his friend never denied it. As you can see, the characters made sure to confuse the readers with the change of the chronology. As you can see, it took me a long time before noticing the bruised face (only during season 3), then to bring up the conclusive evidence that Min was the culprit of the slap. Then in the shaman’s house, he took the dildo with his left hand, because he was angry and frustrated. (chapter 100) With the same hand, he pushed Jihwa (chapter 100) too. This shows that he could barely control himself here. And once he faced the main lead’s sword, he got so scared that he showed Jung In-Hun’s glasses with his left hand again. (chapter 102) Due to stress and his strong emotions, he exposed his true self, but since the readers were more focused on the actions and Min’s punishment, they never paid attention to his hand. This contrasts so much to the way the author portrayed Yoon Seungho. She often zoomed on his hands. (chapter 92) The irony is that in this scene, the main lead employed his left hand too, the positive reflection from the night in the pavilion (chapter 43). While here it was to bring him back to reality, in the pavilion, the Joker had the opposite intention: to lure Lee Jihwa to believe in illusions. (chapter 43).

Why did she confuse the readers then? It was to hide an important information, the culprit is left-handed!! And now it is necessary to examine the lord’s nightmare.

2. The hand in the nightmare

If you read my previous analyses about the visions, you are aware of my following observation. The visions represent not only memories, but also predictions. (chapter 74) They announce the future events, though the information is not given properly. On the other hand, since they are memories either, this signifies that they contain insight about the lord’s tragedy. Thus I noticed that the anonymous perpetrator used his left hand to grab his hanbok!! I deduced that the perpetrator in the past is also left-handed!! Secondly, since this vision can also be seen as the announcement of the painter’s second kidnapping, this is no coincidence that Byeonduck created such panels during the painter’s last torment. (chapter 99) However, in the shaman’s temple, Black Heart grabbed Baek Na-Kyum with his right hand. He was trying to manipulate the artist, he was acting. He was not showing his true self. Yet, the vision was revealing the truth: the future mastermind of the last scheme was in reality left-handed!! It didn’t matter, because at the end, the main lead was able to discern the truth. He sentenced Black Heart, for he believed that he had killed his loved one! That’s how I realized why the author would focus so much on the hands and on the distinction between unconscious and conscious! The hand in Painter Of The Night represents the crucial clue to identify the culprits!!

3. The illustrations and the mystery

Because of these new discoveries, I realized the signification of the covers. In season 1, we had the hands in the illustration. The hands were revealing the crime committed against the main lead. The latter was totally passive in this picture. The hands are touching and unclothing the immobile man. It also shows that Yoon Seungho was at the center of the conspiracy, in the past and in the present! The painting in the background indicates the presence of a hidden painter. Thus Baek Na-Kyum was not drawn in the cover. The painter of the night was in truth someone else, the painter from the past! Nevertheless, the main lead was looking at the readers, indirectly at Baek Na-Kyum, the young painter of the night. This describes the arrival of Baek Na-Kyum in his life. Striking is that the painting in the background was destroyed… indicating that the portrayed relationship was no longer existent. This represents another clue that the lord’s suffering is linked to a previous relationship. Then in season 2, the author revealed Baek Na-Kyum as the painter, who had now become the target of the plot. Yet behind him we see Yoon Seungho’s foot. The latter symbolizes the main lead feared to get close to him, but he wouldn’t leave his side. Moreover, this corresponds to the lord’s impulsive decisions, he let his foot guide him. Thus during the first night of the failed gangrape, he walked towards the study and stopped unconsciously, when he was next to the room. (chapter 53) Due to his strong denial, he was strolling not realizing that his feet were under the influence of his subconscious. And it was the same, when he opened the door with his foot at the Lees’ (chapter 67) Nonetheless, I believe that the author had another reason to draw the foot in the cover. The foot prints are the evidence of the crime, and as such the deceptions and the culprits. (chapter 59) (chapter 60) (chapter 61) The shoes were the clues how to recognize the perpetrators and accomplices. That’s why I compared these feet (chapter 59) with those . (chapter 66) My avid readers are already aware of my theory. For me, we have two kidnappers, and one tried to kill the artist! To conclude, Byeonduck left the clues how to unveil the mystery from the past and the present in the illustrations of each season. The paper in the second cover is a reference to the forged letter (chapter 56), but also to the theft of the painting (chapter 56) and the painter’s break! At the end of season 2, he was no longer painting and in the beginning, he had also stopped due to his heartbreak. Simultaneously, we have the presence of water which serves as a connection to season 1 with the ruined painting and to season 3 with the well and drowning. The dark shades were an allusion to the lord’s darkness and suffering. The latter would come to the surface. However, since the cover only showed the lord’s foot, it exposes that the lord would not divulge his traumatic past. (chapter 78) In season 3, this time the main leads were facing each other, they were recognizing each other: their true self! But this stands in opposition to the deceased people without identity! (chapter 94) We never saw the face of the corpses, as they were either covered (chapter 97) or the manhwaphiles could only view the hand, , the back (chapter 97) or the clothes and shoes (chapter 100)! And since Min had disguised himself as Lee Jihwa, it was clear that the deceased shouldn’t be identified by their clothes, but by their faces. As you can see, season 3 was about the face and identity! This indicates that in the past, someone had been not identified correctly!! Why? It is because the main lead has long repressed this memory. He had forgotten his face out of fear and hatred. The only thing the victim remembers is the BEARD, and old bearded men! (chapter 44) And the nightmare exposed the number of persons involved in his suffering: 4 men!! Here, we have 3 men, and don’t forget the left hand from before. (chapter 74) But if I include the painting, then I come to 6 people: the patriach Yoon Chang-Hyeon and the king. This coincides with the cover from season 1: 3 hands indicates 3 people and we have two lovers in the background. Moreover, we shouldn’t forget the peeper, the person Yoon Seungho was looking at. Hence we have 6 people involved in the conspiracy.

But what caught my attention is that the illustration of season 2 and 3 are showing locations: the painter’s study and the bedchamber. Thus I conclude that Byeonduck was revealing the places where a crime was committed in the past and in the present. In the study, the painter lost his virginity, he was bullied or slapped, while in the past, Lee Jihwa stole Yoon Seungho’s first kiss. So in my opinion, the illustration for season 4 should be the gibang, unless we assume that the cover of season 1 is a reference to the kisaeng house! (chapter 1) Anyway, from my point of view, the cover of season 4 should indicate a location which is connected to the town. Why? It is because now I am suspecting commoners to be involved in the lord’s suffering. I have already expressed my theories about Kim, the guard blacks, Heena and the physician. But there are more suspects! Moreover, observe that the kisaeng house is not only visited by aristocrats, but also by commoners. (chapter 99) That’s the reason why I am anticipating a cover with the gibang. It would be the perfect place to find closure for the couple. It is a place where both suffered. Moreover, I think, belongings should serve as an evidence for the identification of the schemers and accomplices. Remember that we had the glasses as the evidence of a murder in season 3, yet I am sensing that the possession should serve to identify the perpetrators from the past and the present. Since the clothes were used to confuse people in season 3, I am assuming that in season 4, they should help to recognize people, but at the same time, it is totally possible that our main leads decide to employ the same method to fool the schemers and accomplices. And now, we have the cover for season 4. Both protagonists are not only facing each other, but also touching each other. They are no longer hiding their emotions and thoughts. This image represents the opposite to the other seasons. At the same time, the author is again referring to the bedchamber indicating that this place is strongly connected to the protagonists’ suffering. On the other side, since the painter is wearing a silk white shirt, it implies that he is not a commoner. This panel indicates that the main lead was able to the true owner of the study and even bed. However, due to the tears, the beholder can sense that this season will be painful as well. Striking is that in the cover, they were either alone, or they were just looking at each other, hence they didn’t pay attention to their surroundings. Consequently, they couldn’t sense the presence of a plot and the schemers. This indicates that the couple is still not prepared to face new schemes. To sum up, the author selected such covers because she had planned to leave clues there about the mystery! But wait… I had outlined that the person who grabbed the young master Seungho was left-handed, and he played a huge role in the main lead’s downfall and suffering! But who is left-handed in this story?

4. The mysterious left-handed

Naturally, I investigated the matter right away. My first suspect was Kim, but he seems to be right-handed! (chapter 12) (chapter 56). But then I noticed that he carried his master on the left side. (chapter 57) Nevertheless, the person threatening the painter was right-handed. (chapter 66) and since it is for me the butler, he was not the person from the nightmare. That’s the reason why I am excluding him from the suspect list. For me, if he was involved in the past, it is because he lit the candles (chapter 74). Furthermore, don’t forget that in his nightmare, the author exposed the presence of plates with 3 candles (chapter 74) which were also used in the shaman’s house. Finally, in this picture, we have a right-handed person. (chapter 74) So Kim could have been the one silencing him with his hand.

Then I realized that Yoon Chang-Hyeon had also switched his hand. In season 3, he slapped his son with his left hand. (chapter 86) Hence his right cheek was red and he had a wounded lip. (chapter 86) On the other hand, at the doctor’s office, he employed his right-hand to keep his son by his side. (chapter 57). Why is there this change? The turning point was the prank in the bedchamber. (chapter 83) During that scene, the father slapped his son with both hands. First with the right (chapter 83), then with the left! Striking is that the author never showed, when the patriarch employed his left hand. The readers could only hear the sound, and see the result of the beating. Both cheeks were wounded. From my point of view, he was conditioned exactly like Min! He was not allowed to use his left hand, but the angrier he got, the less he could hide his true self: he was left-handed and he was a stupid and brutal father!! (chapter 74) However, note that this switch happened after the sexual abuse had started!! That’s the reason why I conclude that he is not the man from the nightmare. For me, the father is symbolized by the painting, just like the pedophile! So where is the left-handed person? So far, the fake servant smoked with his right hand. (chapter 37) On the other hand, I am doubting that Byeonduck will introduce many new characters in season 4. That’s the reason why I believe that the man with the pipe is the real schemer, as the pipe was in the annex. Since Min grabbed Baek Na-Kyum in the shaman’s house, I am more inclined to think that the perpetrator grabbing the young master Seungho by the collar was just an accomplice and not the mastermind. In other words, he was the helping hand.

And there are two persons left that fit the profile of a left-handed old bearded man. The physician!! 😮Notice that he placed his box on the left side and this twice!! (chapter 57) (Chapter 74) I don’t believe in hazard. Besides, the lord had his nightmare during the same chapter. This means that he could have leaked this information about Yoon Seungho to an outsider, like he did with the painter. As the manhwalovers can grasp, the physician is more suspicious than before.

As for the second person, it is none other than the calligrapher!! (chapter 92) Besides, observe that the angry man put the brush on the left side. (chapter 92) The man is left-handed! And what did Yoon Seungho do? (chapter 92) He grabbed him by the collar! Exactly like in the dream!! (chapter 74) Thus I had this sudden idea: the calligrapher could have been Yoon Seungho’s teacher!! The latter became jealous of the young master due to his talent and notoriety. Another possibility is that he was commissioned by the elder master Yoon to write a talisman, a spring poetry, as we have these writings on the door (chapter 44) or patio of his mansion, similar to Heena’s. And since the young main lead suffered so much, it is normal that he doesn’t have such believes. IT is also possible that the young master Seungho played a prank which made the man angry and humiliated. As you can see, I come to the conclusion that jealousy and resent were the reasons why he got involved in the first place. Moreover, we shouldn’t forget that the calligrapher is linked to the kisaengs! He even recognized Baek Na-Kyum, as he called him a peasant. (chapter 92) Yet, he was either perceived as servant, a noblewoman or as a sir so far! He was never recognized as a peasant. Since he could identify the artist, it is also possible that he was also able to identify Yoon Seungho. But he thought that he was not well educated after living as a male kisaeng for so long. From my point of view, the man could have decided to get revenge on Yoon Seungho and participated in his abduction and gangrape!! Thus his karma was to lose his home! (chapter 91) The fact that Yoon Seungho grabbed him the same way than in the nightmare is not random. It was, as if he was getting justice. Honestly, I am more and more suspecting that in the past, Yoon Seungho got raped by commoners! Naturally, I have not changed my mind that the king was behind this plot: to get revenge on the Yoons! Who benefitted the most from the crime? Definitely the king, as he was able to ruin their influence.

Finally, I would like to remind the readers that according to me, the tailor is involved in the lord’s past suffering. However, according to me, there exist two tailors. While the other called the main lead “lord Yoon Seungho” (chapter 39), the other only recognizes him as master Yoon. (chapter 64) This means that the latter knows about the existence of elder master Yoon. Like mentioned above, the calligrapher, the physician, the tailor, the fake servant and the “shaman” from chapter 29 have all one thing in common: the beard!!

5. The other accomplices: the hanbok and the beards

Byeonduck left pieces of the puzzle in the covers in order to unveil the truth about the past and the present. Hence the moment the illustration is released, try to examine it attentively. It definitely gives clues about the evolution of the story, and the evidences concerning the perpetrators and helping hands. My recent discoveries led me to develop the following theory: the involvement of merchants. This man (chapter 83) disguised himself and hide his true identity behind “lord Song”. But is he the king or someone else? He was definitely a pedophile, but since we can’t see his face, it is not certain that it was the king. (chapter 83) Striking is that he is not “smoking here”, yet I had outlined that one abuser was a heavy smoker due to Yoon Seungho’s behavior. (chapter 83) On the other hand, I discovered that the man with the green hanbok was smoking! And why doesn’t the patriarch suspect the king behind the plot? It is because he was never officially banished or sent to exile. Thus he explains his desertion from the mansion as an absence. (chapter 86) Let’s not forget that in season 3, clothes were used to deceive Yoon Seungho, and the authorities played along. Besides, as the painter had become the love interest of Yoon Seungho and Black Heart, it is very likely that in the past, the victim was exposed to two different abusers, but they all hid behind the name: lord Song. Note that during this feast, one man had a moustache beard which is in Painter Of The Night the sign that he is no yanbang, not even chungin, the upper-middle class. He could be a rich merchant. Just because they are all wearing hanboks (chapter 83) (chapter 87), this doesn’t mean that these men belong to the aristocracy. Furthermore, Kim never said “nobles”, he just said “visitors”!! Finally, I would like to point out that since Yoon Seungho lived secluded for 10 years, I doubt that he had the means and the knowledge to be involved in the trade: (chapter 22) This theory of the participation of a merchant got even reinforced, when I made the following discovery. The wooden boxes in season 1 were present at the tailor‘s shop!! (chapter 39) Thus I am deducing that the barn in season 2 (chapter 51) could have belonged to the tailor or the owner of this shop. And note the couple was in the same position than with the kisaeng with No-Name in episode 51! (chapter 51) This was the negative reflection from episode 39: no penetration versus penetration, no interruption versus interruption, no rumor versus rumor etc. And this contrast clearly displays that the tailor shop is involved in Yoon Seungho’s suffering. And the best evidence for this is the nightmare. The main lead’s clothes had a design. (chapter 74) and the readers never saw the protagonist wearing it so far!! So where is this special hanbok? The latter is the evidence of the tailor’s involvement, as he had to create it. To conclude, there is a strong connection between the gibang, the tailor and the trade. And now, you comprehend why I am more than ever suspecting commoners’ complicity in the main lead’s suffering.

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: Yoon Seungho and his puzzled physician 🩺

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.

Announcement: Byeonduck tweeted that season 4 will star in February! 🥳 The essay “Sexual education and love” has been updated.

I would like to remind my readers that for me, Byeonduck introduced three different physicians. [For more read the essay The mysterious doctor] On the other hand, the manhwaphiles already know which doctor I am referring to, the physician from chapter 57 and this because of this expression: “I am still puzzled”. (chapter 57) So in this short essay, I would like to present my new observations and interpretation concerning this intriguing man.

1. His beard

What caught my attention is his beard (chapter 57), as it resembles a lot to the ones from the yangbans. (chapter 67) . (chapter 86) His beard is so different from the commoners’. (chapter 45) This is important, because it reveals that the doctor belongs to a different social class: Chungin, the upper-middle class.

Chungin (중인) Chungin” was the second-highest class in the society. People belonging to this class were considered as upper-middle-class of the society. It consisted of highly educated specialists, artists, astrologers, physicians, accountants, and low-level bureaucrats. To belong to this class, one had to pass the technical efficiency examination, called the Chapkwa, and hence, could become a Chungin. Chungin, similar to Yangban were also exempted from military service and paying taxes.” Quoted from https://hallyuism.com/2021/05/10/the-korean-society-during-the-joseon-dynasty/

It exposes that this man has a higher position than peasants and small merchants, the sangmin. The reason is simple. Since they had to pass an examination, this indicates that they have a certain knowledge. In other words, education serves as a mark of distinction among Joseon’s hierarchical society. It explicates why the calligrapher insulted Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 92) The lords and chungin can look down on the commoners, sangmin and cheonmin, as the latter are not considered as educated, since they never had to pass an exam. Striking is that the physician voiced his ignorance in front of the painter which stands in opposition to his social status. (chapter 57) He was not able to diagnose Yoon Seungho’s illness. Thus the doctor could be perceived as selfless, honest, dedicated and humble. He is determined to do anything to find the proper solution. Thus many readers came to like the clueless physician. However, in my eyes, it is just an illusion again!!

2. The physician’s testimony

First of all, I detected a contradiction. The doctor claimed that he had not been able to help the father (chapter 57). But this is not correct, for he prescribed and gave the drug to the butler and as such the elder master Yoon. That’s why he said this: (chapter 57) Note that solution has two meanings, thus it has for synonyms answer and elixir/extract!! He did give him a solution, the drug!! This truly shows that the physician was lying to the painter. 😮 But this doesn’t end here.

He also contradicted himself, when he first stipulated this. (chapter 57), With the idiom “strong”, he was implying that Yoon Seungho had always been quite in good health. On the other hand, he said later that he had always been puzzled about the mysterious illness.

Striking is this description of the main lead. (chapter 57) He is the only one who portrayed the protagonist in a positive light. Why? In my eyes, it was to gain the painter’s trust. That way, the doctor would appear as impartial and neutral. Thus he said the truth first in order to divert attention from his own actions. He had been the one supplying the drug to the butler. (chapter 57) I had already criticized the doctor in the past, for he kept giving the medicine to the valet, and never made the connection to his “hot-headed” temper. He appeared as quite stupid. In my eyes, he already appeared as a passive accomplice, but mainly due to his lack of discernment. He would trust the butler too much. Thus in the composition „the purge“, I had predicted his involvement in a plot which would bring to light his complicity.

Yet, note that during his confidence, he portrayed Yoon Chang-Hyeon in a bad light. He was ignorant (“he would say strange things”), he was brutal with his son (chapter 57). This shows that right from the start, he was already putting the whole blame on the elder master Yoon. That way, the physician was avoiding to become responsible. He had been giving the drug to the butler for a long time, while claiming that he had not been able to diagnose the illness. Besides, we shouldn’t overlook that in this chapter, we only have the physician’s version!! We never heard the testimony from the father. Just because we saw the bruises and the hand on the main character’s neck, this is no real guarantee that the father said this to the doctor. (chapter 57) That’s how I realized that the doctor had been deceiving the painter all along. He lied by commission, but also when he talked about the visitation, he was actually delivering the truth in delay, paltering!! He used the same MO than Kim. He feigned ignorance, and mixed a truth with a lie!! This is no coincidence. This leads me to the following question: why did he talk about the past to Baek Na-Kyum? (Chapter 57) Yes, it was to protect himself!! He was diverting the painter‘s attention. From that moment on, I could no longer judge him the same way. He was now an active and smart accomplice, who would utilize innocence, truth and knowledge to his advantage.

Besides, the manhwalovers can note that he employs the same expressions than the valet: “it seems”, „always“… He is referring to appearances, a sign that he is aware of the importance of impression. As you can see, he was acting exactly like Kim. Thus we should see this conversation as a reflection from this scene: (chapter 12) According to my interpretation, here the butler wished the painter to desert the mansion. Thus I conclude that at the physician’s office, the doctor had the opposite task: he should ensure that Baek Na-Kyum doesn’t run away. It was important that the artist was by the lord’s side the moment he gets kidnapped. That way, Yoon Seungho would only blame himself and the painter. Yet, I don’t think that he knew everything about the future abduction. Secondly, why did the doctor bring up Yoon Seungho’s health and his medicine to the painter? He was actually a stranger, even a „servant“. (chapter 57) First, notice that Kim had already implied that he would bring his master to the doctor’s office. (chapter 57) However, the office is actually far away from the mansion. (For more read the essay The hidden shaman) From my point of view, the revelations from the doctor had two purposes. Baek Na-Kyum should not wonder why the butler brought his sick master to the office. Secondly, he had to gain his trust so that he would feel safe there. Moreover, I think that the butler must have realized that the artist had heard the exchange between the second physician and Kim. So he knew that the lord was supposed to take some medicine: (chapter 55) But like I have always pointed out, Yoon Seungho had no idea about the drugs and medicine. He was totally left in the dark, for the valet would call the drug ” medicinal tea”. (chapter 35) He employed an euphemism. This truly shows that the doctor and the valet were partners in crime, both accomplices due to their passivity, knowledge and silence. Nevertheless, I don’t think that the physician was directly involved with the kidnapping and assassination plot. The conversation between the valet and the physician displays the lack of honesty coming from Kim. (chapter 57) The latter portrays himself as a victim.

Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why he never revealed anything after the abduction. (chapter 63) He felt bound by secrecy to the bearded man. On the other hand, this incident must have worried him, as it had taken place at his own mansion. Thus he could get into trouble. Kim realized that he needed to reassure the doctor. If the latter started speaking, he could get into trouble, for he had left the propriety during that night. He had no real alibi. Hence the valet visited the doctor during that night, but he never threatened him. (chapter 65) The doctor believed that the moment someone talked, someone could take the fall. Observe that in the yard, the butler followed the physician’s advice: he should say nothing. (chapter 65) This truly exposes that the doctor is not just a naive man, but an accomplice not only due to his silence and passivity, but also due to his own manipulations. He described himself as a concerned observer who had done nothing wrong. But no, this is not true, as the drug is the evidence of his participation. Who paid for the drug/medicine in the end? Since the elder master Yoon was no longer living in the mansion, the valet was the one responsible for the expenses. I doubt that Yoon Seungho would take a closer look to the accounts. Then when he said that he only saw the protagonist twice (chapter 57), this doesn’t mean that he was not involved in the main lead’s suffering. He could have affected Yoon Seungho’s life differently. We have the perfect example in season 3: he treated the butler (chapter 77), while he neglected the lord’s hand (chapter 84) But like I pointed out, who gave the aphrodisiac to Lee Jihwa? This is a medicine!! To conclude, the physician was involved in the main lead’s suffering, though he only met him twice. (chapter 57) The reason why I started examining the physician again, is because he was the first person to mention the shaman. (chapter 57) But since my theory is that Kim was a shaman, this signifies that he should have recognized Kim as the shaman!! In that case, I deduced that the physician had been lying to the elder master Yoon by omission. Naturally, it is also possible that the father had hired the shaman, but out of fear for his reputation, he acted, as if he had no idea about the butler’s true identity. In other words, all three men acted, as if they knew nothing. This would explain why all the characters had no eye in the last picture. Anyway, because of my latest theory, I reexamined the physician‘s statement and found more incongruences

Moreover, just because the doctor made this statement, this doesn’t signify that we should take his words as face-value. Like pointed out above, the physician was not honest, and he was definitely putting the whole blame on Yoon Chang-Hyeon for malpractice, while he was hiding his own malpractice. He acted as an ignorant and naive man. Striking is only the nobles were described in a rather negative light: Yoon Seungho as a hot-tempered man, Yoon Chang-Hyeon as a violent, untrustworthy and ignorant father. (chapter 57) Here he doubted the elder master Yoon’s words, for he stated as a fact that the young master Lee Jihwa was not mentally sick. Keep in mind that according to the doctor, the protagonist was described as someone suffering from a mental illness. And this detail caught my attention: the physician took the Lees’ side. Furthermore, the patriarch Lee was thinking similarly than the doctor: the shaman and the mental illness. (chapter 82) Finally, I would like to point out that in that chapter, the physician was mentioned too, and this next to the patriarch Lee. (chapter 82) Thus I believe that the physician’s fate is linked to Lee Jihwa and his father.

3. Conclusions

To conclude, since he feigned ignorance and hid his participation, I deduce that he will pay for his wrongdoings. His karma should be to become denunciated as an accomplice of a plot and even sentenced, though this time, he had truly been left in the dark, similar to Lee Jihwa. However, the physician won’t be able to run away. And remember the lord’s statement: (chapter 44) We should never trust the old bearded men, not even the doctor. And ignorance can not serve as an excuse for covering up wrongdoings. As a conclusion, the physician was more acting in chapter 57, he rather expressed a fake concern towards the main lead. (Chapter 57) Finally, the manhwaphiles should detect that the doctor never mentioned the presence of the servants in the bedchamber. Both were restraining the wounded lord. (Chapter 57) This is also no coincidence that he didn‘t point out the absence of the elder master Yoon during the second visit. He couldn‘t, because his tactic to put the whole blame on the patriarch would have totally failed. And this leads me to the following observation: (chapter 74) The doctor was not honest here either. Exactly like in episode 57, he was faking his worries towards Baek NA-Kyum. First, we have the presence of the drop of sweat on his cheek, a sign of dishonesty, but more importantly, his question was just theoretical, he was influencing the painter. The latter just needed to agree. He hoped that the artist would never bring up the incident in his mansion, and as such would wonder about his whereabouts and his responsibility concerning the kidnapping. At the same time, he could have asked this with the hope that the painter would blame the protagonist for his misery. He would use the painter‘s suffering (the unfair judgement leading to his imprisonment) in order to divert attention from his own wrongdoing: his silence, his passivity and his lack of commitment. He never tried to look for Baek Na-Kyum‘s vanishing. He never felt responsible. But he had to give up, because the artist was truly ignorant. (chapter 74) He never made any reproach towards the main lead.

As a conclusion, it is important to contrast the characters’ testimonies, to compare the images with the texts. That way, the readers can detect the deceptions through the contrast. Moreover, this shows that the physician was more than just an ignorant doctor, he was an accomplice. First, ignorance can not be an excuse for crimes. Secondly, we should question if he was truly ignorant. Yoon Seungho has not talked to him so far, hence this should happen in season 4. Therefore I come to the deduction that the physician will play a huge part in season 4, for he remained hidden in season 3. But he was definitely present because of the split, the aphrodisiac and the opium. The latter was often used as a medicine in China. Finally, it made me realize that season 4 will expose the participation of the commoners in the lord‘s suffering. Not only the aristocrats like Yoon Chang-Hyeon and father Lee were to blame for his misery, but also the servants, the tailor and the doctor. The latter played a role, as they never divulged their knowledge. The tailor could have noticed that he was no longer creating new clothes for the young master Seungho. The physician and the staff could have exposed the abuse to the authorities. Children were not supposed to be exposed to the straw mat beating.

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: Painful departures 👋🩸⚰️

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.

Announcement: The essay “Powerful fellatios” was updated.

Before elaborating my new discoveries, I would like to repeat the following principles on which the story was developed:

  1. There is always a reflection within the same chapter.
  2. The next episode is mirroring the previous one, naturally with slight changes.
  3. Each season is reflected in the previous and the future one.
  4. The author is working on positive and negative reflections.
  5. Thus the story is going in circle.
  6. Thus the lord’s destiny is reflected in the painter’s.

Like explained before, the reason for this huge amount of reflections is that her story is constructed like a kaleidoscope. Therefore it is not surprising that I keep contrasting many images and chapters with each other. That way, we can get new insight about the past. At the same time, the author can not expose the whole truth for two reasons. We don’t have a narrator, and since it is a manhwa, the narration is really limited. Moreover, Yoon Seungho might confess to Baek Na-Kyum about his traumatic past, yet his testimony will never mirror the entire verity. Why? It is because as a victim, he didn’t know everything. He had no idea what people would think and do behind his back. Since he had no idea about a conspiracy in season 1, 2 and 3, I conclude that it was the same in the past!! Hence it is up to the readers to fill the blanks and as such to solve the puzzle.

Striking is that after the end of season 2, I had examined the topic “farewells” [For more read essay 195 “Farewell” ] which sounds quite similar to the title of this analysis. One might fear that I could repeat myself. However, this is just a deception, for I am focusing now on season 3. With the new panels, I could get new clues about the painter’s departure from the gibang. So far, I had stated this: Heena did it for the painter’s sake. It was to protect him, (chapter 46) This was actually implied by Heena’s words and gestures, yet I had already questioned this, for Heena appeared as dishonest. Now, it is time to expose my new interpretation concerning Baek Na-Kyum’s eviction from home.

1. Exits in episode 94

What caught my attention is that chapter 94’s main topic was departure. How did I come to this perception? First, we have the well which reminded Yoon Seungho of the scholar and his poem. The latter had given the poetry referring to exit to the painter as a farewell gift. Why was the lord thinking of Jung In-Hun in that moment? It is because he had read the letters from Heena and as such her accusation against him. He had killed the learned sir, hence in the lord’s mind, it was only a matter of time until Baek Na-Kyum would bring up the subject and decide to leave him. The letters are not destroyed, for he asked this to the painter: (chapter 94) Yoon Seungho had two reasons to expect such an outcome. First, it was related to Yoon Seungho’s offer to Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 44) Secondly, Baek Na-Kyum had already showed to the main lead that he could leave him at any moment. (chapter 85) Finally, what mattered to the artist the most was the lord’s love and trust. (chapter 85) He believed in his affection while thinking that Yoon Seungho would keep his promises. But if there was a slight doubt about him, in Yoon Seungho’s mind, the painter would choose his noona over him, like he had experienced it in the study. To sum up, in the gibang, the lord was fearing the artist’s departure. Moreover, when the painter confessed his love to the noble, he was also leaving the scholar’s side. His path was no longer following the teacher’s. Thus when he said this (chapter 94), he was actually biding farewell to Jung In-Hun. He was moving on. Finally, if you include these panels from chapter 94, , the painterofthenight-stans can notice that people are about to leave. In the first image, the young artist is chased away by the comments from the other children. Then the painter is standing in front of his noona Heena, he has just left the side of the sitting nobles. He is definitely crying, he wished to be embraced and taken away by Heena from the room. As for the last picture, we see two “nobles” leaving the painter behind. They are the ones leaving the gibang, for the exit is close. The painter ‘s face had been beaten, hence we could view drops of blood on the ground and the white head-band.

Interesting is that these three departures were all painful. First, Baek Na-Kyum’s heart got broken, for he was excluded by the children forcing him to live in the gibang. After that, he lived in seclusion. The children used their words and gestures to make him leave. Simultaneously, this panel indicates that the painter had left the kisaeng house and strolled through the streets. Then in the second image, the nobles were more aggressive, for they had removed the painter’s pants. As the manhwalovers can detect, the violence was increasing, thus when the painter’s visage was wounded, it represents the high peak of violence against the painter. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the author chose not to follow the chronology. In this panel, the painter had still a braid (chapter 94) (chapter 94), but not here. This means that the rejection from the “peasants” happened afterwards. And now, if I include Jung In-Hun’s departure, the latter is supposed to have been killed, it becomes palpable that in Painter Of The Night, departure is strongly associated to blood, desertion, imprisonment and death. But this doesn’t end here.

2. The painter’s departure

I couldn’t help myself connecting this scene (chapter 94) with this physical assault in front of the learned sir’s home: (chapter 99) In these two scenes, the painter got so hurt that he was bleeding. In addition, the painter’s hair was free. In front of Jung In-Hun’s house, the perpetrators had removed his headgear, while in the gibang, the white head-band was on the ground. To conclude, the painter’s short hair was visible. Don’t forget that the short hair was indicating that the artist was an orphan. So by removing the headgear for noblewomen, Min and the black guards made sure to expose that the victim was just a low-born without any family. But let’s return to our comparison. Min was wearing a similar hanbok than the noble in the gibang. Furthermore, the black guard resembles a lot to the aristocrat with the hunting outfit in the kisaeng house house. The painter’s white headband is now serving as a cover for masking the black guards’ identity. As you can see, due to these similarities, I came to the conclusion that this scene (chapter 94) was the reason why Baek Na-Kyum left the gibang. Why do I think so? First, it is related to Heena’s absence.

3. Heena’s role

Where is she? Why didn’t she come and protect her brother? The perfect excuse would be that she was busy with a client. And this leads me to the following observation. Note that in this scene, Heena was standing in front of the door. (chapter 94) She was actually the one hindering the painter to run away. She didn’t act like Jung In-Hun at all (chapter 68). She let her brother hear the laughs from the younger masters. It looks like she is consoling her brother, yet she is not, for she is not embracing him. She is grabbing him by the shirt which reminded me of this gesture: (chapter 97) Hence I deduce that this scene in the gibang (chapter 97) is a reflection of the incident in the painter’s youth. (chapter 94)

Chapter 94 negative reflectionChapter 97 positive reflection
Painter in tears  Painter smiling, even when he gets scared
Heena brings a table with food.Baek Na-Kyum returned to the room in order to fetch the “paper”.
Heena says nothing and feels sorry for the painter –She talks the whole time
She remains next to the door.She approaches her brother in the room.
She grabs him by the shirtShe grabs him by the shirt
BNK wants to be huggedHeena wants to hug her brother, but she is rejected
BAek Na-Kyum believes herBaek Na-Kyum reproaches her to tell stories
Heena doesn’t weepShe is now in tears
Heena definitely portrayed the nobles as ruthless and filthy.Now, she found a nobleman who would help them
Heena stands in front of the entrance.Heena stands in the way to the door.

As you can see, these two scenes share so many parallels that I came to the conclusion that in both cases Heena was stopping her brother from leaving the room. (chapter 94) The table and the kisaeng were in his way. In other words, in this scene, she didn’t let the painter leave the room. However, the huge difference is that contrary to episode 97, she was acting under the influence of her unconscious/subconscious. This means that she was not doing it on purpose contrary to her confrontation with her brother in the annex. Here, she desired that her brother wouldn’t return to Yoon Seungho’s mansion. He should remain by her side and follow her. In chapter 94, she could have acted like the scholar (chapter 68) But she did not. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that she had bad intentions here. However, her passivity caught my attention. She was immobile and silent. (chapter 94) Hence Byeonduck drew her without mouth. Her behavior contrasts so much to this scene: (chapter 65). Thus she gave more the impression of being righteous and truly concerned.

Moreover, another detail caught my attention: (chapter 94) The presence of the moustache beard!! Three of them have one!! (chapter 94) The painterofthenight-lovers will certainly recall Yoon Seungho’s words: (chapter 44) However, there exists a difference between the painter and the lord’s association for beards in my opinion. The latter suffered due to old men wearing a long moustache beard with whiskers. (chapter 82) (chapter 83) (chapter 37)

Noblemen’s grooming styles for facial hair found in thirty portraits handed down from the Joseon Dynasty are as follows. Facial hair is classified into three types: beards, moustaches and whiskers according to its location. Twenty one portraits show that the subjects groomed all three types of facial hair.” Quoted from http://www.rjcc.or.kr/journal/article.php?code=7079

But there exists another style of moustache beard.

The remaining nine scholars also grew and trimmed their moustaches in the 八shape neatly, and had beards in an inverted triangle long enough to reach the lower part of the neck. However they do not have whiskers in their portraits. Quoted from http://www.rjcc.or.kr/journal/article.php?code=7079

Striking is that Kim is also wearing such a moustache beard. (chapter 87) However, so far in the story, this type of moustache beard was only present among commoners and not nobles!! (chapter 39) (chapter 45) (chapter 45) (chapter 64) (chapter 78) Hence I started suspecting if these two persons were truly nobles in the end. (chapter 94) Just because they are wearing clothes destined to aristocrats, this doesn’t mean that they are truly lords. And don’t forget that when the painter was attacked in front of the learned sir’s home, many people were disguised. The kisaeng Heena was dressed like a commoner’s wife (chapter 99), Min was cosplaying Lee Jihwa, the guards were covering their mouths, Baek Na-Kyum had been wearing a expensive scarf and a headgear for noblewomen, (chapter 99) so that he had been mistaken for a young master. (chapter 91). Therefore I came to the conclusion that the painter has repressed the link between the moustache beard and nobles. Since the noona kept saying nobles, what made Baek Na-Kyum shudder in the past were nobles. But the connection between the beard and nobility is existent in the painter’s subconscious. This explicates why Baek Na-Kyum would show such a respect to valet Kim, he would call him sir and listen to him. (chapter 52) However, the more time passed on, the more the butler kept pointing out that he was just a servant, so that this moustache beard is losing its meaning, the symbol for power and nobility. At the same time, the painter met more and more people with beards, like for example the tailor (chapter 74), the physician (chapter 74), Bongyong (chapter 78) and finally Yoon Chang-Hyeon (chapter 87). However, note that when the patriarch left, the main character only paid attention to his gaze and not his beard. (chapter 87) This explicates why Baek Na-Kyum is not mentioning the beard concerning nobility, while Yoon Seungho never made the connection between the old bearded men and Kim, though the latter has now a moustache beard! To conclude, I don’t think that this physical assault (chapter 94) was really done by nobles. Moreover, we shouldn’t forget that the gibang is not only visited by aristocrats, but also by commoners (rich merchants, small shop owners, workers). (chapter 99). That’s the reason why I came to the following theory. These persons wounded the painter on purpose and in my eyes, it was suggested by Heena. (chapter 94) She couldn’t ask nobles to commit such a crime due to her social status, hence she asked the assistance of low-borns. Striking is that the painter was mostly hurt by commoners in the different seasons: The servants (chapter 13), the maid (though not intended) (chapter 36, here the painter is drugged against his will), Deok-Jae , Nameless, (chapter 60), Kim (chapter 66) [As you already know, for me Kim was the one who tried to kill the painter during the abduction], Bongyong (chapter 78), the calligrapher with his insults (chapter 91), the maids with their reproaches (chapter 91) (chapter 98) and the black guards from Min. (chapter 99) The commoners are often the helping hands of the nobles. But as you know, Heena has been denying their existence and involvement. Why? It is because she has been a helping hand herself. Under this new approach, you comprehend why I came to the deduction that Heena had utilized people to make her brother desert the kisaeng house. This is no coincidence that in chapter 97, the painter was accompanied by 2 servants (chapter 97), two commoners who neglected him totally. By the way, the one with the green shirt and white jacket vanished later. He was not seen in the mansion. Anyway, the two domestics wouldn’t even follow the lord’s orders properly, for they never stayed by the painter’s side. And since it is a reflection from chapter 94, I deduce that the two “nobles” acted the opposite. They played their role perfectly to the point that the painter was terribly wounded and he never doubted their identities. They were just nobles! And that’s the point. That way, no person was truly blamed for the incident.

Hence Heena didn’t suggest the painter’s exit right after this incident, she had to wait for his recovery, and naturally she had to blame someone: the nobles!! She played with his prejudices in the end. The first evidence for this theory is that during that fateful night, Baek Na-Kyum didn’t go straight to the teacher’s home, for he first returned to Yoon Seungho’s mansion. This time, she couldn’t convince her brother to follow her suggestion, an indication that the indoctrination was no longer effective. This stands in opposition to chapter 94, where the painter’s self-esteem was ruined. Thus he chose to listen to her advice without resisting. This explicates why during their first farewell, the readers were able to see the painter’s face and the white headband on his head!! (chapter 46) This was the “positive” reflection of this scene: (chapter 94) No matter what… Baek Na-Kyum should leave the kisaeng house. What caught my attention is that she only presented her argument, the moment the painter was about to leave her. Thus he recalled her words when he was on his way to the gibang (chapter 46) and as such to the scholar’s home. (chapter 46) Moreover, I am now doubting that Baek Na-Kyum and Heena were seen in front of the gibang. (chapter 46) Why? It is because of the building and the absence of the cheongsachorong (the blue and red lantern). First, the gibang is surrounded by a wall made of stones! (chapter 19) (chapter 69) (chapter 93) Secondly, there is no window next to the entrance of the building contrary to the image from chapter 46. Consequently, I deduce that Heena had left the gibang with her brother saying that she was meeting a client, and just before entering the mansion, she sent away her brother. This explicates why he had only taken his tools and nothing more. Remember what the noonas said in chapter 93: (chapter 93) She implied that the noona was not present in the kisaeng house, while in reality she was punished, trapped in a storage room. And now, you comprehend why Heena said this to her brother: (chapter 46) He couldn’t bid farewell to his noonas, for he had already left the kisaeng house. But he had no idea that he would be sent away during that day. The other evidence for this theory is that the painter went to his lover’s home before visiting the scholar’s house. (chapter 97-98) Furthermore, the night before, the noona had implied that Heena had left the gibang. Thus I conclude that Baek Na-Kyum was truly abandoned by Heena in the end, but he got deceived by her gentle words and gestures. The physical abuse in the kisaeng house and her kind gestures had played a huge role in this. He could no longer be protected there. She justified this that it was for the painter’s best interests. She knew what the artist truly desired. However, this was not true, as she had manipulated him and she had never asked him. Under this new light, you comprehend how Heena could deceive her colleagues so easily with this statement: (chapter 93) He had suddenly vanished without voicing such a desire before. And note that in chapter 97, she was already acting on Min’s orders, a sign that in the past, it was different. She had done it on her own accord. In the annex, the kisaeng was definitely scared, hence she was trembling. (chapter 97) I have always said that the painter’s departure from the kisaeng house (chapter 1-46) was related to a crime, but the noona was not aware of this, or deep down she knew, but she chose to close an eye to this. Why do I think that this is related to murder? Simply, because in front of the scholar’s house, she faked her death and the painter had been wounded too. (chapter 99) Finally, we have this execution in chapter 1. During that night, Baek Na-Kyum should have died. But let’s return to episode 97. Here, she was resenting her brother. (chapter 97) She was totally unhappy which stands in opposition to chapter 46 in my eyes. Hence she was looking for new tissues at the tailor’s. (chapter 64) This would explain why she never looked for her brother afterwards. This shows that unconsciously, the painter had judged her betrayal and abandonment correctly, but he had been deceived by her argumentation and attitude. In other words, he was in denial.

4. The purpose of these reflections

I believe that these incidents are created to expose the transformation and evolution of characters. Heena felt powerless and scared, when she was young. Due to her anxieties (according to me, genophobia) she made wrong decisions, thus she let the protagonists suffer. She was definitely a victim due to her social status as kisaeng, for it was not her choice to become a kisaeng. Nonetheless, the problem is that in chapter 94, she utilized the painter as her shield. The real victim in this scene is not Heena, but Baek Na-Kyum. She had brought the table and let the painter approach the nobles. Why did they want to confirm, if he was a girl or a boy? (chapter 94) The clothes were indicating that he was a boy!! Moreover, why did she let him approach these men? It was during the night, for he was wearing his night clothes. So he should have slept. In my opinion, she utilized the painter in order to explain why she couldn’t perform her duties as a kisaeng. She was constantly followed by the painter. Simultaneously, she could utilize this incident to portray herself as a victim of violent and filthy nobles. She could lie to her brother, and explain that when he was not with her, she had to bear such an attitude. He would believe her, for he had experienced it once. She was clearly avoiding her fate as a kisaeng. Furthermore, she could explain why she was not working or sharing her bed with the other noonas. (chapter 87) So in this scene, (chapter 68), Baek Na-Kyum had the impression that she was telling the truth. It looked like she was a victim of violence, while in reality, Yoon Seungho was the real victim. He got dragged and tied up! Today, I just discovered another evidence for this interpretation! (chapter 68) The blue skirt is revealing her presence. She is next to the door and observe that there is a table to her right!! Exactly like in chapter 94! But it was much bigger. This means that she left the room. And since the table was not present in this image, (chapter 86), I deduce that Heena explained her desertion by taking away the table so that she had the perfect excuse to leave this room and abandon Yoon Seungho. It was not her business. But if she left the room during that night, she could have followed her brother. But she never did it. She let her brother imagine that she was suffering. (chapter 70) Terrible, right? However, since the painter had been deceived by impressions, he came to believe her version and lies. But there is more to it. Because the artist was so young, he never realized that he could have detected her manipulations!! How? She should have become a wreck… have bruises on her body, but she never had any.

This new interpretation is truly important, because it made me realize why Heena got punished in the storage room. 😮 (chapter 93) Since she excused her vanishing by saying that she had to remove the dishes and as such was busy in the kitchen, it is normal that she was imprisoned next to the kitchen 10 years later!! Here, we can recognize the kitchen by the door made of wooden planks: (chapter 95) But there exist two other evidences why Heena is associated to the kitchen. Remember the painter’s thoughts in the inn: (chapter 75) They let see that he was thinking of Heena, though he spoke of his noonas. However, the presence of religion was introduced with food. (chapter 75) This truly exposes that Heena preferred working in the kitchen. That way, she could avoid sex with the clients. Another interesting aspect is that when she was sitting at the table with nobles, she was not talking to her neighbors. . (chapter 93) She was not even serving the noble next to her. (chapter 93) Once again, she was passive and immobile. Since she was doing nothing, she could hear her brother’s name and turn her head. (chapter 93) Under this new light, it becomes understandable why Baek Na-Kyum didn’t detect her presence in the patio. It was not her usual place. At the same time, the readers can grasp why the artist didn’t mind eating in the kitchen with the maids and felt comfortable around the head-maid. (chapter 46) This was reflecting his past relationship with Heena. And now, you comprehend why Heena never paid attention to the painter’s education. She had not the time and the motivation to do so. She was busy in the kitchen during the evening and night, yet keep in mind that the painter was her excuse to keep her distance from the nobles in the beginning. This explicates why Yoon Seungho crashed the table in the gibang: (chapter 99) This was Heena’s karma. She could no longer use the table as an excuse to betray and abandon a young boy. Moreover, we could see this gesture as a compensation for the past incident. (chapter 68) Finally, the lord could voice his frustration and his resent for the kisaeng who had “deceived” him. Now, I am wondering if during that night, the rice had not been spoiled too. The most important aspect is that she had definitely seen the abduction and sequestration, yet she did nothing. But if the food was spoiled, then I can understand why she acted that way. She didn’t want to be punished. But if this theory is correct, , it depends on if she was involved in this incident or not. Yet I don’t believe that she was responsible here. She preferred Yoon Seungho taking the fall. So she took the table with her colleague and left the room. (chapter 68) How do I come to this idea? It is because there is a progression in the responsibility. But we will see, if the lord’s anger was caused by spoiled rice. One thing is sure: the butler is recreating events from the past. And shortly after the painter’s departure from his noona situated in chapter 46, (chapter 46), we had this incident: . (chapter 47). That’s the reason why I am connecting the kisaeng to the food. And I had already demonstrated that there exists a link between the gibang and the lord’s kitchen.

That’s how I made a new connection between Heena and Nameless. The latter is a butcher, and he was seen in the kitchen. (chapter 60) And now, we know for sure that the chicken blood was used to stage the crime scene in the scholar’s house. (chapter 101) For me, Nameless was behind this prank. It sounded so harmless, but the reality is totally different. Consequently, Heena can become the prime suspect in the scholar’s disappearance. Remember that according to me, Yoon Seung-Won went to the gibang after leaving his brother’s mansion and discovered that he had been deceived. For me, there is no ambiguity that Yoon Seung-Won and lord Song are behind the learned sir’s murder, for both had a huge interest for his vanishing. But in my eyes, Heena is the link between the nobles, lord Song and No-Name, because the kisaeng house is frequented by all kind of people. I have already mentioned that the learned sir must have gone to the kisaeng house after meeting the fake servant. (chapter 38) This encounter took place during the day, however he returned during the night. So he must have spent some time elsewhere. Because of the connection between Heena and the kitchen, I think, she will have to take the fall for No-Name’s crimes. Under this new light, I comprehend why Byeonduck declared that she had no longer planned Mumyeong and Lee Jihwa. Both were already receiving their punishment, when they fled. But since I detected a connection between Heena and No-Name, I am quite sure that she is also responsible for the downfall of No-Name. And don’t forget that during the incident in the bedchamber, we had a party!! (chapter 83) Then I had already demonstrated that the kisaeng had already visited the mansion, for she knew where the painter’s room was. (chapter 65) So she could have worked in the kitchen… helping the other maids. To conclude, the kisaeng had committed the following wrongdoings. She had manipulated her brother with a mixture of belief and prejudices to cover up her own fears and wrongdoings. While in chapter 94, she stopped the painter from leaving the room unconsciously, it was no longer the case with Yoon Seungho, as she was standing in front of the door. (chapter 68) She contributed to his abduction and sequestration. But this doesn’t end here. She was also a witness of his sexual abuse, but she chose to close an eye. Thus she said this to the painter: (chapter 68) For her, sex had become a synonym for torture and death. Her wrong choices reinforced her fears about sex in my eyes. Every time, she decided not to face the truth, she preferred being blind. Thus the goddess chose to punish her by letting her deceived by impressions. (chapter 88) (chapter 66) Here, she couldn’t help her brother, though the “sequestration” was nothing compared to what Yoon Seungho had experienced at such a young age. She had deceived her brother in the past, and now she was put in the same position. She was the fool one. In addition, she was forced to be confronted with reality, because she needed to admit her wrongdoings. Since she was behind this assault (chapter 94), she had to see her brother wounded, the consequences of her lies and manipulations. (chapter 99) Yet, each time she refused to become responsible. She always had a perfect excuse: the nobles were to blame for this, the lord had acted like a spoiled child etc…. In front of the scholar’s house, it was because her brother had not listened to her. Besides, Min was also accountable for this. (chapter 99) She never pointed her finger to the black guards, for she knew that they could reply that she was responsible for her brother’s resistance. She had not been able to convince him to follow Min. She preferred blaming innocent people (Baek Na-Kyum, Yoon Seungho and “Jihwa”) than recognizing her own guilt and her bad choices. Since in the past, she stood in front of her door, her punishment was to remain outside. She could never enter the room (chapter 66). (chapter 96) She even got sequestered herself. (chapter 93), therefore it is not surprising that at the end, she was determined to leave the kisaeng house. But this doesn’t end here. The painter had been denied the right to bid farewell to his noonas a second time because of Heena (again), (chapter 99), this means that her punishment will be that she will never see her colleagues again. Since she faked her death (chapter 99), her karma will be that she gets killed for real. In my opinion, Heena is destined to suffer and die a horrible death. Remember that in this story, karma will be 1000% worse than the crime itself. She will be definitely blamed for the murder of many people. Since she claimed that nobles were filthy and violent liars, her doctrines and belief could be used against her, the moment the police investigate Black Heart’s death. .(chapter 102) She is a Christian, hence she could be accused of sacrilege too. In my eyes, Heena will never be able to bid farewell to her brother again. His words in the mansion will become a reality. (chapter 69) As you can see, I am detecting a progression in her wrongdoings. She is getting more and more involved, though there is no ambiguity that she was deceived herself in season 3. But this doesn’t excuse her crimes, for she refused to listen to her brother and called him an idiot. At no moment, she pondered on the situation. Her decisions were strongly influenced by her emotions (fear, anger and hatred). That’s the reason why I am convinced that if she is not dead (my theory), her attitude towards her brother will worsen to the point that she will call her brother a bird of misfortune! (chapter 68) Remember her metaphor concerning the gibang, it was viewed as a nest. She was already comparing her brother to a bird. (chapter 93) Thus the only thing that is missing is “of misfortune”. And she can only adopt such a belief, for everything she had planned never worked out. She imagined that she could exchange her brother for her freedom (chapter 97) which represented a betrayal of her own doctrines. But the result was that Min was killed, hence her situation can only deteriorate. If she can escape punishment concerning the nobles’ killing, she has then an opportunity to change her situation by putting the blame on her brother. Why? It is because Baek Na-Kyum will be perceived by Kim and the pedophile as the bird of misfortune. They will be reunited by this “belief”. This reinforces my conviction that the departures in season 4 will become very bloody and painful. The irony is that her metaphor with the bird revealed more about her own thoughts than she imagined. She just needed to give him some warmth, feed Baek Na-Kyum, and that was it. He had a bed and he could eat. A smile and a caress on the cheek were enough to motivate the painter. Her affection was fleeting and trivial in the end. However, while writing this essay, I realized why Baek Na-Kyum ended up drawing in the courtyard. It is because this was the only place where he could be in peace. In the room, he got assaulted by the nobles (chapter 94) or he had to witness his noona getting “beaten” by a violent noble (chapter 68). As you can see, the kitchen and the courtyard seemed to be the only place where he was left alone, until he got assault in the courtyard. Naturally, it was only possible during the day. Thus the learned sir had such a memory. (chapter 01)

5. Conclusions

The story is not only reflecting Heena’s metamorphosis and downfall, but also it serves as an example for the painter. Through her, he can grasp why Yoon Chang-Hyeon had such a cold gaze towards his own son. The ruin of their relationship will make him realize why the father could turn his back on his own son, the refusal of admitting his wrong choices and guilt. If he recalls their last argument, he can already notice the change in her gaze. (chapter 97) Fake concern versus anger and resent (chapter 97) The only difference is that here her fury and hatred were addressed more towards Yoon Seungho than the painter. However, gradually she was slowly revealing her anger towards her brother. At the end of season 3, her exit is quite sudden and brutal: staged death! (chapter 99) But by faking her death, she not only hides her desertion, but also she is not able to bid farewell to her brother. He is left behind unconscious, so he can not notice her “death”, while in her mind, she can only remember this image: (chapter 99) Baek Na-Kyum lying unconscious and his head covered in blood. Will she feel remorse and blame herself for his “death”? If she is still alive, it is possible, however the moment she realizes that Baek Na-Kyum escaped death and as such staged his curtains, she can only resent him, for he deceived her. In reality, she was the one who deceiving everyone: Jihwa and the other nobles. To conclude, she played a bigger role in Yoon Seungho’s suffering in the end.

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 rise of the dragon 🐲

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.

1. Yoon Seungho the king

After the end of season 1, I had been contacted by many followers asking me about the possible ending of Painter Of The Night. Many feared for a depressing ending, as Byeonduck had declared that the protagonists would be happy on their own. In their mind, this meant that the protagonists wouldn’t end up together. My reply was that the couple would become happy without getting too dependent on each other. I meant Yoon Seungho and Baek Na-Kyum would come to give a new sense to their own life, and their love would help them to have a goal and purpose in their life. And that’s how real couples live. Thus while examining season 1 closely, I came to imagine that Yoon Seungho would become the king and Baek Na-Kyum his painter. As you can see, very early on, I connected the noble to royalty. Why? First, we had the lord outlining his powerful position in front of the painter. (chapter 11) Secondly, I had associated the main lead to the eagle which is the symbol for the kings and emperors in Europe. He was seen here flying (chapter 30), and his fingers reminded me of the eagle’s claws. (chapter 18) And this perception got even reinforced, when I saw this panel: (chapter 52) In this scene, he was sitting like a king surrounded by his “court”. The hanbok had such a design that I couldn’t help myself associating it to Joseon’s monarchy.

However, I have to admit my mistake, for this interpretation was strongly influenced by my own culture and as such European history. Yet, here we are dealing with Korean and as such with Joseon culture. Hence the symbol for Joseon’s dynasty is not the eagle, but the dragon. That’s why when I saw this new image on Twitter , I had another revelation. On the one hand, it actually confirmed that Yoon Seungho was somehow destined to become a king, yet he is not represented by the eagle or the phoenix, but by the dragon. Hence the moment I saw this image, one idiom came to my mind: Dragon king!

2. Yongwang

Because of this sudden association, I decided to look more into it. Thus imagine my surprise, when I discovered this:

https://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/nation/2022/10/113_324712.html

Yongwang, or Dragon King, is a deity of the river or the sea, overseeing peace in the house, good health and longevity in the family, the harvest, catch and safe sailing. Yongwang is also called Yongsin (Dragon God).

Communities worshipped Yongwang as a water god, holding divine powers to control rainfall. Dragon King worship is closely related to the contemporary practice of staging rituals at village springs or wells that are believed to be dwelling places for Yongwang. Around the country there are also legends regarding dragon springs and dragon wells, created by a dragon that brought rain to repay humans by turning wasteland fertile, which shows that Yongwang is closely related to farming. […] In shamanism, Yongwang oversees not only fishing, but the souls of those who have drowned and died. In the worship of household gods, it is a deity that oversees peace in the household, good health and longevity in the family, the harvest, catch and safe sailing.

Among rituals held for Yongwang in the home by women, the most widely spread is yongwangmeogigi (feeding the dragon king), also referred to as yongsinje (dragon god ritual) and gaetje (fishing ritual). This ritual can take place in three different venues: First is a private well in the backyard; second is the communal well, where, in some cases, a spring ritual (saemje) is held, then water from the well is brought to the home and placed in the kitchen or on the sauce jar terrace for the Dragon King; […] https://folkency.nfm.go.kr/en/topic/detail/2618

The moment I read this article, I couldn’t restrain myself making the parallels between Yoon Seungho and Yongwang. First, the deity in the background reminded me of Yongwang. (chapter 100), though this deity is always accompanied with a dragon and in this picture, the readers couldn’t see one. However, it is possible that the author didn’t desire to reveal too much.

“his most distinctive traits are that his beard, moustache and eyebrows are (usually) “spiky,” protruding in sharp points, sometimes resembling coral, and his eyes are often bulging out like those of a fish. He most often holds the banya-jinju (般若眞珠, flaming pearl of wisdom, a type of ma-niju 摩尼珠), but sometimes a branch of coral or a sword.” quoted from http://www.san-shin.org/EKB-Yongwang-DragonKing.html  

Secondly, we have a strong connection between rain and the main lead’s situation and emotional state. It rained, when the lord had sex with Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 21) Why? It is because the lord was happy. These were the tears of happiness, which Yoon Seungho couldn’t express contrary to the painter. And this is no coincidence that in chapter 58, it started snowing, when the couple was making love: (chapter 58) And we had the same weather, when Yoon Seungho saved his lover. (chapter 102) The weather was expressing the main lead’s emotions: tears of happiness or sadness. We could say that the lord has the “power” to move the sky.

Furthermore, the well plays a huge role in this story. Many people are found dead in a well (chapter 97), and according to me, the messenger was drown there. (chapter 94) In addition, my theory is that Deok-Jae and/or Jung In-Hun’s body were placed in a jar in order to hide the murders. For me, the jar plays a huge role in Painter Of The Night… thus Byeonduck created such a scene in season 2 (chapter 46) and we have so many jars next to the pond: (chapter 94) [For more read the essay “The secret behind the library”]

Furthermore, this story takes place in Jemulpo, a town situated next to the sea, and Yongwang’s realm is supposed to be in the sea. (chapter 91) This is no coincidence. To conclude, all these elements (rain, jar, well, soul of a deceased), connected to the dragon king, are present in Painter Of The Night. Thus I came to the conclusion that Yoon Seungho is like Dragon king. This reinforces my conviction that the main lead is not only connected to shamanism, but also embodies royalty. So he might not be the king of Joseon, but he is powerful in his own way, though he is not aware of this. And note that the moment he wished to commit suicide by drowning in the pond, he was brought back to life. (chapter 102) Water is his true element.

In different temples, you can discover Yongwang accompanied with a woman. She is also dressed in royal clothes with a small crown. What’s unclear is if she’s another Yongwang or if she’s his wife. And this could be a reference to the painter, who will become Yoon Seungho’s bride, but his true identity will remain hidden.

What caught my attention is that the rituals concerning Yongwang are held by women, which stands in opposition to the shrine and Confucianism. (chapter 85) This means that in the Yoons’ mansion, people didn’t venerate this god. And since the aristocrat made such a statement to the elder Yoon Chang-Hyeon, (chapter 86), I have the impression that in season 4, we will assist to a real ritual to ward off evil and back luck, leading the tormenting souls to the afterlife peacefully.

And this leads me to the following observation, the dragon in Korea and Joseon is perceived as a good omen! He would bring good fortune.

Since the release, I realized that the decorated tree (chapter 100) and this altar (chapter 100) were exposing the presence of a ritual. However, my problem was that I couldn’t determine exactly the nature of the ritual. But by making the connection between the dragon and good fortune, I had now more clues. I have to admit that I can not be 100% sure for this, but this is what I found:

Yonggyeong (Kor. 용경, Chin. 龍耕, lit. dragon’s plowing) is a custom observed on Dongji (Kor. 동지, Chin. 冬至, Winter Solstice) in which people tried to predict the outcome of farming for the upcoming year based on the direction and angle of cracks on the surface of a frozen pond. The custom is also known as yonggari (Kor. 용갈이) or yong-ui batgari (Kor. 용의 밭갈이), both meaning ‘plowing by the dragon.’ When ice covers a pond, there is often a crack that divides the ice sheet into two halves, as though a field were divided along a furrow left after plowing. This phenomenon was considered a trail left by a dragon and, therefore, interpreted as having divinatory power concerning farming success in the year ahead. […]

According to another custom referred to as dongbok (Kor. 동복, Chin. 凍卜, lit. ice fortune-telling), on the eve of the year’s first full moon (the fourteenth of the first lunar month), people left two bowls of fresh water out overnight and positioned them north and south of each other. The next morning, they examined the ice sheet that appeared in the bowls and tried to predict the success of farming in the northern and southern regions.  quoted from https://folkency.nfm.go.kr/en/topic/detail/4622

The timing fits to our story, and we have the presence of bowls in front of the deity in the yard. In my eyes, the shaman had prepared a ritual for the dragon king, and was praying for the success of the farming. Don’t forget that it takes place just before Spring. Consequently, this is not surprising that the lord got connected to peasants and this very early on. (chapter 4) (chapter 6) (chapter 82)

This observation leads me to the following conclusion: Yoon Seungho, as a new version of Dragon King, will bring luck to the commoners and peasants. He will help them to improve their living conditions (education and good farming). As you already know, I consider Yoon Seungho as a representative of Sirhak. [For more information read the essay “The scholars’ fight”] And now, you comprehend why very early on, I expected that Yoon Seungho would become a king. He doesn’t need to become a real “king”, yet there is no ambiguity that his fate is to become famous as a spiritual and fair leader.

3. Dragon and imoogi

That’s the reason why I started looking for more information about the dragon. As the readers could see through the deity, this mythical animal is strongly connected to water!

What caught my attention is that the Korean dragon has no wing, yet it can still fly and he has a small beard (hair around the mouth)!! But more importantly, this creature is a combination of different animals: the body of the snake, the antlers of the deer, the forehead of the camel, the nose of a pig, the ears of the cow, the claws of the hawk, the scales of the carp, the fist of a tiger and the eyes of the rabbit! He contains all the strongest features of these animals:

  1. luck for the pig
  2. strength for the tiger
  3. elegance of a deer
  4. stubbornness and resistance of a camel
  5. compassionate and giving nature of a cow
  6. the constant change, the metamorphosis of a snake (cycle of death and rebirth)
  7. the rapidity of a hawk
  8. fertility of a carp
  9. the abundance of the rabbit by sharing its eyes

In other sources, I read that the Korean dragon had also features of the dog, the frog and the sheep. But why does this mythical animal possess so many features from different creatures? It is because this powerful, God-like creature embodies the love and respect Korean people have for the natural world. I would even say that he represents nature, and as such he stands for harmony and justice. By being sharing features of different animals, he can understand their life. This is not surprising that the Joseon kings utilized this animal as their emblem. It symbolizes their power (omnipotence and “immortality”) while substantiating their ability to be fair and just rulers. 

Striking is that we have an allusion to these animals in Painter Of The Night. First, the lord was able to kill the boar (chapter 83) and the deer (chapter 22). Then the lord compared Baek Na-Kyum’s eyes to a rabbit. (chapter 78) Since both resemble each other, I deduce that the main lead has the same eyes, the rabbit’s. Like mentioned above, he utilized his fingers similar to claws: (chapter 18) He would fly like a bird, though he has no wing (chapter 30). His fists in this scene reminded me of a tiger’s: (chapter 54) One might argue that this signification is totally impossible, for the lord doesn’t have the body of a snake. This point can be refuted very easily. What is the major characteristic of a snake is molting. A regularly recurrent event during the activity period of all snakes is the shedding of the skin. This coincides with the lord’s change of clothes. The latter reflected his downfall and rising. Furthermore, this animal is linked to death and rebirth. My avid readers are already aware that I had detected different scenes, where we could witness the lord’s spiritual death and rebirth, like for example in the shed: (chapter 62) When he discovered his misjudgment the next morning, he felt like dead. He no longer saw himself as a lord, but came to view the painter as his new lord : (chapter 66) As a conclusion, Yoon Seungho shares so many similarities with the dragon that I came to view him as one. This explicates why even after getting married, he will never wear a beard! The change of dresses and hair dresses of Yoon Seungho represents the different social status in Joseon society: young master, painter, male kisaeng, slave, peasant, executioner, servant, lord, concubine, “wife”/husband” etc. Moreover, since I had detected parallels between the protagonist and the legend of Dangun, this could only reinforce my conviction that Byeonduck is referring to old tales and religions (and as such Dragon King) in her story. The author has already stated that she won’t create a story with the couple set in our time, and this becomes understandable, if she is constantly referring to old traditions and myths.

According to different sources, the Korean dragon is not born as such.

“Korean mythology states dragons were born from a mating ritual between a phoenix and a crane. This led the dragon to become a creature that harnessed mythical power and intelligence.” Quoted from https://daebak.co/en-de/blogs/magazine/animal-symbolism-in-south-korea

My avid readers will certainly recall my associations for the characters, Yoon Seungho was the phoenix and Baek Na-Kyum a crane. Thus we could say that their union makes them the dragon bringing justice and peace to victims. In another source, I found that the dragons were once said to be Imoogi in the beginning, a giant lizard that resembles sea serpents. They exist several different versions on how Imoogi become Dragons. One said it would take a thousand years for them to become a dragon, while another says they must catch Yeouiju (star) falling from the sky. Thus in temples and in pictures, the Korean dragon is also always represented with a ball.

Another theory that exists and sounds the most logical to me, says that Imoogi was born in a place where living and dead intermingled. It was created in cave where thousands of people were stuck due to war in 420AD. As more and more people started to die in the cave, their intense agony and suffering led the foundation for Imoogi’s birth and therefore it symbolizes destruction and sadness. Imoogi controls the power of birth, death and rebirth. Ouroboros, a symbol of wholeness/infinity is also represented by a snake(serpent) eating its tail.” quoted from https://rtaori60.medium.com/imoogi-the-great-lizard-aca02c6c9b1e

Since it takes 1000 years for an imoogi to transform into a dragon, we have 10 years of suffering in Painter Of The Night. For me, this is not random at all. This means that after chapter 102, Yoon Seungho turned into a real dragon! This corresponds to his Coming-Of-Age. That’s the reason why I don’t think that he will be manipulated again like in season 2 and 3! My avid readers are already aware of the presence of ouroboros in this manhwa. For me, Kim symbolizes the imoogi and Ouroboros! He could never turn into a real dragon. But why does the imoogi need to wait for so long ? Some say that this is a curse, other traditions hold the idea that Imoogi are “pupae” or “larvae” of dragons. And they will become full-fledged and full-fledged dragons after being in the ocean for 1000 years. This signifies that time, experience and patience are essential for this transformation. Thus not every imoogi can become a dragon in the end, and that’s Kim’s fate. He was not able to recognize Yoon Seungho as his “yeouiji”. The shaman’s house reminds me of the cavern (chapter 102), and thanks to the painter, Yoon Seungho’s soul was able to escape this “mental prison”.

And this leads me to the following aspect: Baek Na-Kyum is the lord’s Yeouiji, his fallen star fulfilling all his wishes. That’s the reason why the dragon is never seen without his star. One might say that this is exaggerated. However, my avid readers should remember that I had associated the painter to a star, the sun, in previous essays, even before making the relation between the dragon and Yoon Seungho! This explicates why the lord is carrying his lover like his bride (chapter 45) (chapter 102), similar to the dragon in the picture above. His “star” serves as his guide, support and his source of life. Thus when the main lead confessed to the painter for the first time, the sun entered the bedchamber (chapter 55) and as such his heart and mind.

Therefore I come to the conclusion that in season 4, the readers will witness a clash between two dragons, the king and Yoon Seungho! The fight between the fake and the real dragon! Thus when the author released this panel recently, (Twitter), she was actually announcing the arrival of the monarch in Joseon. Hence you comprehend why I selected such a title, the rise of the dragon. “Lord Song” can no longer hide his true identity.

4. Dragon king and expulsion

My readers will certainly recall that the starting point of this essay was this expression “dragon king” which came to my mind, when I saw the recent publication. Why? First, the main figure was wearing the gonryongpo (곤룡포), where dragons are sewn on it. This hanbok is the everyday robe for the king which explains why the latter is always wearing the red robe all the time he appears in front of people. Hence I made this association in my mind: dragon king. When Byeonduck published this image, , she was naturally creating a new story, another Alternative Universe. The student Baek Na-Kyum who got bullied by the classmate Deok-Jae was suddenly sent back to Joseon, and appeared in front of the king’s bedchamber, Yoon Seungho.

Striking is that this panel resembles a lot to this picture which the author hasn’t used yet: The painter is sitting inside a room, while Jung In-Hun is standing outside. Nonetheless, the position of the characters are very similar. This indicates that the author’s new alternative story is actually inspired by the main story!! This can only reinforce my perception that Yoon Seungho in the main story is associated to royalty. However, since it is a reflection, I deduce that this image is the positive reflection of this scene: How did the learned sir react here? He criticized the painter by stating that this was “filthy”. In this scene, the characters are caught by surprise, but it becomes obvious that there is no disgust or expulsion. In fact, the fall of man took place before, for Baek Na-Kyum was sent to Joseon. In this encounter, I detect attraction and curiosity. Hence I come to the conclusion that in the original story, when this scene took place, , Yoon Seungho was far from being living like a king. As you already know, according to my interpretation, the protagonist was treated like a male kisaeng. That’s the reason why I believe that this scene played a huge role in Yoon Seungho’s liberation, the physical expulsion from hell in the end. Since in the parallel story, the student experienced time-travel and as such rejection and expulsion, I conclude that in the main story, Yoon Seungho must have made a similar experience! But this doesn’t end here, as the readers should keep in the mind the following rule: The painter’s destiny reflects the lord’s.

On the other hand, the manhwaphiles will complain that so far, Yoon Seungho has never appeared as a dragon. Yet, we shouldn’t overlook that the phoenix is the symbol for the Queen in Joseon. (chapter 50) (chapter 52) This means that the mysterious lord Song was actually claiming the main lead as his wife in the last scene. Min and his friends were sent there in order to entertain the protagonist, but they failed. This explicates why the next day, Black Heart was seen with a hanbok of lower quality. (chapter 56) It was, as if Min had been compensated for his bruised face by the mysterious lord Song. However, for the pedophile, Black Heart was just a concubine, and not his main wife! Hence the hanbok had not such a detailed and expensive design. This would explain the villain’s jealousy. And now, if you look back at the hanboks from the main lead, you will recognize his ascent. First, he is wearing green, which is similar to Yoon Chang-Hyeon’s color. At the same time, his hat resembled a lot to Kim’s. (chapter 1) Then later, he is mostly wearing blue which is actually the color of the Crown prince. (chapter 11) Yet, his robes initially have no design. Slowly, the lord is wearing colors and designs that are actually reserved for a king: blue, red, black and purple. This constant change of hanboks symbolizes the “snake molting” and as such his transformation and rising. This is not astonishing that on the night of the bloodbath, he had such a hanbok: (chapter 102) Here, he was no longer acting like a noble, but as a ruler. Don’t forget that according to me, the mysterious lord Song had proclaimed the main lead as his unofficial Queen by giving him hanboks with phoenixes. However, naturally, this was never mentioned to Yoon Seungho directly. Why? It is because Kim usually selects his clothes. However, this rise was not natural, as the lord had no real saying in this matter. The real metamorphosis took place in the shaman’s house, when the lord was sent back to the past and as such the darkness. (chapter 102) The moment he left the “cave”, he went to the mountain and surrounded by the wind and water, he changed into a dragon. This expulsion corresponds to the final release, the lord’s mind is finally freed from the darkness, while I believe that this scene is linked to the lord’s physical liberation. .

5. Nightmare and dream

Above, I had mentioned that the painter was the dragon’s fallen star and the love sessions were strongly connected to the weather. If so, why did it snow, when the learned sir left the mansion? (chapter 44) It is because the main lead was thinking that the painter would actually run away. Thus the door was left opened, and he was wearing warm clothes. Yoon Seungho never imagined that Baek Na-Kyum would remain by his side. Yet, during the previous night, the lord had consoled his lover by embracing him.

Furtheremore, the manhwalovers could also wonder why the lord had a nightmare in the bedchamber after their second love session? The painter’s presence should have brought relief. Moreover, during that night, there was no rain. (chapter 71) But this can be refuted easily. First, don’t forget that during this love session, the lord was acting like a servant pleasing his new lord. So this had nothing to do with Yoon Seungho’s feelings like sadness or happiness. He was determined to keep the painter by his side, and ignoring his own feelings. He never expected the artist to reciprocate his feelings. Secondly, Yoon Seungho’s nocturne vision is not just a nightmare, but also a DREAM! Yes, you are reading this correctly. Only recently, I discovered that all the artist’s visions are a combination of 3 elements: memory, nightmare and dream! I will give you three examples as illustration, for I am slowly running out of time.

Chapter 28: This vision is a combination of these three elements: memory, nightmare and dream. This had happened during the First Wedding Night (memory) (chapter 21), then we have a similar situation in chapter 49: , , but the painter was rejecting this future. Hence he considered it as a nightmare.

  • Chapter 34 : Memory ; nightmare the lord becomes a ghost and confronts the painter with his biggest fears (admitting his attraction, passion for erotic paintings and homosexuality) and dream (The painter’s true desire was that the lord would kiss him, he was deeply longing for his lips, yet he was still in denial in this vision.
  • Chapter 98: Memory, for the painter was remembering the corpse in the courtyard, a dream, as he wished the return of his loved one . He hoped that the lord would take care of him personally. Naturally, the “spirit” is the nightmare .

Since the lord’s fate and personality are similar to the painter’s, I could only come to the conclusion that the lord’s vision in the bedchamber is not just showing the past and the future horror. It also exposes the lord’s dream and hope! 😮

So where were his desires visible? First it was about breaking free from his jail… (chapter 74) This had already happened, but the lord had not grasped the significance. (chapter 53) Besides, he had not opened the door himself. Even when he went to the scholar Lee and opened the door with the his foot, the lord still felt trapped. (chapter 67) Then in season 3, he could break a door, but it was thanks to the painter. (chapter 96) This shows that the lord’s wish to get released had not been fulfilled so far. In my eyes, it is connected to the torture Yoon Seungho suffered and as such to the purge organized by the authorities. That’s the reason why I deduce that the lord will break a door in season 4, and this won’t be by accident and it will be witnessed by many people contrary to chapter 53, 67 and 96! The broken door will reflect the lord’s rise and power, and no one will be able to stop this. In my eyes, this wish is connected to the door in the servants’ quarter. That’s how his imprisonment started.

Moreover, the protagonist was voicing his thoughts, the reproach to Kim and his father! They had abandoned him. (chapter 74) The “dragon” wished to see Kim and his father, and confront them! And this did take place in season 3. Yoon Seungho confronted the butler with his attitude and betrayal (chapter 77), but this argument was just short-lived. He still viewed the valet as a hard-working and trustworthy person. He had just made bad decisions. Then in the bedchamber, the lord could blame the father for his suffering: (chapter 86) As you can see, the lord’s wishes were granted, but the nocturne vision was so difficult to grasp that neither the readers nor the main lead could interpret the message correctly immediately. Besides, the nightmare was mostly silent. But this doesn’t end here.

(chapter 74) In this image, he is floating in the air… a sign that his status is changing. At the same time, this shows that he is escaping from the hands. They are trying to drag the main lead down. Thus I come to the conclusion that the vision was announcing the lord’s transformation (into a dragon) and as such his “rise”. Note that in this image, he is still a teenager, but in the following panel the protagonist has already become an adult. (chapter 74) Simultaneously, the vision also displays the lord’s expulsion from “hell”, the sex orgies (chapter 74). the hands are trying to bring him back. This image displayed that Yoon Seungho would become powerful, and the hands wouldn’t be able to contain him any longer. The pink is a reference to the painter, and not just to the gibang! Thanks to the painter, Yoon Seungho is changing so that he will be able to face the KING, but not only him!! This is what the dream was telling him too. Thus we have this image: (chapter 74) Simultaneously, the dream showed that the lord wished to see this painting again, though deep down, he blames this image for his suffering. As you can see, the vision was revealing the tormented disposition of the lord. He was switching from nightmare to dream and the reverse… a mixture of anxieties and desires.

However, pay attention that the painting was standing behind Yoon Seungho, when the hand grabbed him (chapter 74) This signifies that he was approached by someone from behind, he had not noticed that the “door” had been opened. Thus he never expected his apparition. For me, this perception demonstrates that the painting is not the real cause for Yoon Seungho’s suffering. Since he had turned around, I came to recognize that this scene stands in opposition to the situation in the painter’s nightmare: (chapter 34) The painter had been able to witness the entrance of the ghost contrary to Yoon Seungho. The latter was caught by surprise. This image illustrates the lord’s biggest fear. That’s how I realized that his biggest nightmare is not the pedophile in my opinion, for the main lead in Baek Na-Kyum’s “nightmare” (chapter 34) stands for attraction, honesty and love… thus it should be the opposite in Yoon Seungho’s nightmare: repulsion, betrayal and resent! He fears to admit the truth, the biggest traitor is Kim, but he is still in denial. He has repressed the terrible betrayal from Kim, just like the painter’s, though I think that the biggest traitor in Baek Na-Kyum’s case is not really Jung In-Hun, but Heena. This would explain why Heena noona was not present in the terrible vision in chapter 34. This is not random that we don’t see the face of the owner’s hand. Naturally, the king was involved in this betrayal, for Yoon Seungho is caught between the hand and the painting. He was trapped between two forces.

This means that Baek Na-Kyum will help Yoon Seungho to face the truth: Kim is a traitor and the king is the pedophile. The vision is indicating that the butler will betray him again in the future, backstab him one more time… However, this time he will recognize his action. Why? Because this time, there is light in the room… as Baek Na-Kyum symbolizes the Yeouiju, the fallen star helping the dragon. If the author presents another dream from the main lead, we will definitely get new clues. And this brings me to the following conclusion:

Yoon Seungho had been portrayed as a bird of misfortune on purpose. (chapter 86) In reality, he was a dragon, who could bring luck and fortune to the person who would cherish him. This is no coincidence that the pedophile sent hanboks with the crane (chapter 34), (chapter 45) In his eyes, the main lead brought him luck, as all his wishes got fulfilled, and he was never caught committing a sacrilege or crimes. However, since the presence of Baek Na-Kyum by Yoon Seungho’s side, it looks like nothing is going like planned. The main lead is not only drifting more and more away from him, he even left everything behind. That’s the reason why I believe that the dragon, the king, will vent his anger on many people in season 4, a new version of this scene. (chapter 30), but much more brutal and violent!  While this “dragon”, the king, stands for court, and as such civilization and immobility, the Korean dragon embodies nature and hope for commoners who dreamt of ascending the ranks! This is not surprising that Baek Na-Kyum is slowly ascending the ranks, while in the past Kim was acting as the unofficial lord of the Yoons’ mansion.

As a conclusion, in season 4, expect a battle between an “imoogi” and dragons. In addition, it becomes obvious that the winners will be our beloved couple. Since Yoon Seungho was turned into a “dragon”, I am more than ever convinced that he will act like in season 1: confident, perceptive, smart and cheerful! He can not longer be used like a pawn, for the “dragon” can not be tamed! And removing the falling star would signify the dragon’s death!

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: Nightmare Inn 🏨🍚🍜 (second version)

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.

In the essay “Breakups, chagrin and alcohol” I had outlined the parallels between Baek Na-Kyum and Lee Jihwa. Both would use alcohol to numb their pain after the separation from their loved one. Thus the painter and the red-haired noble went to the inn and became drunks. (chapter 1) (chapter 36) In addition, after realizing that each location is associated to a certain event in the past, I came to the conclusion that the inn represents no exception. Hence the tavern is full of symbolism too.

1. The significance of the tavern

If the manhwaphiles can recall all the scenes where the inn appeared (1, 12, 36, 56, 57, 59, 75, 92), they get aware immediately that this place is connected to breakups and more precisely to abandonment and rejection. This signifies that the place embodies longing too, for the “betrayed” one is still missing the partner. I also noticed that in all these scenes, there were 3 people! In episode 1, we have the servant, Baek Na-Kyum and Yoon Seungho. In episode 12, Jihwa, the servant from the Yoons and the noble with the mole. (chapter 12) In episode 36, we have Min, Lee Jihwa and the noble with the mole. (chapter 36) In episode 57, the noble with the mole got replaced by Kim: (chapter 57) In episode 59, the tavern owner asked No-Name to take away Lee Jihwa (chapter 59) And in episode 92, Black Heart joined the couple (chapter 92). The only exception seems to be the scene in chapter 75: (chapter 75) However, this is just an illusion, for the ghost Jung In-Hun was present. And even before, the painter kept thinking about Heena noona. As you can see, the painter’s words were influenced by his “surrogate parents”, the third party. But let’s return to the major parallel: the confession leading to a rejection.

In the inn, the red-haired noble suffered a huge humiliation, when he confessed his feelings for his childhood friend and got rejected. (chapter 57) Though Yoon Seungho had punished his friend for his forged letter, he still listened to his confession before rejecting him properly. He gave an explanation why he would never reciprocate the affection towards his friend. (chapter 59) What caught my attention is that Lee Jihwa perceived the rejection as abandonment, while in truth the protagonist was not truly cutting ties with him. The real traitor was someone else: the noble with the mole, who ran away, when Yoon Seungho confronted his friend. (chapter 57) In that scene, the young master Jihwa had drunk before the arrival of his friends, though he was in full possession of his mind. (chapter 56) As you can detect, in this scene, the author employed the following elements: confession, sanity, tears, sadness, rejection, alcohol and abandonment.

Then in episode 1, the painter was sad, because he was forbidden to paint. At the same time, he could no longer live with the learned sir. Thus he said this to Yoon Seungho in the tavern: (chapter 75) He was heartbroken due to the loss of his passion and his loved one. At the same time, he was plagued by guilt. He felt responsible for Jung In-Hun’s failure. This is important, because it shows that guilt is another common denominator. In chapter 57, Yoon Seungho was guilty for the antagonist’s suffering.

Striking is that in episode 75, the painter was drunk again. (chapter 75) Why? It is because he was also rejecting the lord. He couldn’t give him his heart, for the lord had such a fickle nature. (chapter 75) He was responsible that the painter wouldn’t get close to him. He was judged as not trustworthy. At the same time, the painter’s confession in the tavern mirrors that Baek Na-Kyum was not delirious. Despite the influence of the drug, he could think and speak properly about his feelings and thoughts, similar to Lee Jihwa in chapter 57. To conclude, in season 2, the commoner and the red-haired noble were not stoned during their confession, which stands in opposition to the First Wedding Night:: (chapter 21) And this common denominator reinforces my theory that when Yoon Seungho got kissed in the study, he was not in full possession of his mind. (chapter 77) As you can see, the drug is not only strongly associated to rejection and broken heart, but also to delirium and insanity.

And now, look at the lord’s reaction, when he was approached by Min in the inn: (chapter 92) Min was voicing his longing for Yoon Seungho, he was implying that he had been abandoned by the protagonist. However, note that the lord utilized water to reject Black Heart! (chapter 92) It was, as if the noble was now crying. The water was displaying the hypocrisy of Min, the “fake tears”. He was not missing the main lead at all, in reality he was yearning for the painter’s gaze. Thus he expressed this in the shaman’s house: (chapter 99) Striking is that when the lord with the green hanbok complained to his acquaintance, he was also acting as if he was guilt-tripping Yoon Seungho. According to his words, the protagonist had abandoned him. It was, as if he had completely forgotten him. (chapter 92)

The most astonishing is that just after splashing Min with water, the protagonist justified his action. Min had lost his sanity. (chapter 92) It was, as if he wanted to bring him back to reality, similar to this gesture: (chapter 102). He explained Black Heart’s attitude with the alcohol. Due to the liquor, Min had become insane and obscene. He was speaking about sodomy in a public place. Striking is that the Joker was portraying himself as a man consumed by lust. He needed the lord’s phallus to feel good. That’s how I detected another similarity: the presence of sex and sensuality in the conversation!

  • Chapter 1:
  • Chapter 12: Here, the idiom “toy” was implying sex, though the main characters had not sex together yet.
  • Chapter 36:
  • Chapter 57:
  • Chapter 59:
  • Chapter 75: Here, the painter’s reproach was connected to the lord’s change of behavior. He was no asking for sex, but the painter was actually longing for Yoon Seungho’s warmth and phallus. (chapter 74) As you can see, Baek Na-Kyum was craving for sensuality. But he couldn’t voice it like Min! He was paying attention to social norms.

Hence I deduce that this place is also connected to homosexuality.

2. The tavern in the torment

The allusion to insanity made me realize that the tavern is connected to torment and as such nightmare. The painter had become like a zombie, when he met Yoon Seungho, and Lee Jihwa was also devastated to have lost his lover and friend. (chapter 36) He kept crying, as he couldn’t bear the separation. At the same time, he explained his weeping with the main lead’s past. He was a pitiful creature, for he suffered a lot. Indirectly, he was comparing himself with the main figure. He had gone through a lot too.

Later, when the childhood friend confessed to the protagonist, he brought pain to his friend, for the latter had to hear so many reproaches. He was responsible for his misery, he was so pitiful , (chapter 57) On the other hand, with this blame, Yoon Seungho was constantly reminded of the pedophile, lord Song. Thus Yoon Seungho replied this to the antagonist: (chapter 59) He couldn’t even pronounce his name out of hatred and pain. And now, you comprehend why I chose “nightmare inn” as title. This place is connected to Yoon Seungho’s torment and not just in season 2. In my eyes, something must have happened there which changed the lord’s fate for a decade. The other evidence is this: the forged letter from Lee Jihwa requested from the main lead to meet lord Song in that place. (chapter 56) And observe that Kim never doubted the authenticity of the encounter. (chapter 56) This signifies that the pedophile must have gone there in the past. 😮

One might argue that the tavern is not related to nightmare and torment, for Lee Jihwa visited the tavern in order to celebrate the success of his trick in the manhwa. (chapter 12) There was no breakup or rejection in this scene. There were no tears either contrary to the other chapters. Yet, this is just an illusion. The celebration was based on the suffering of Baek Na-Kyum and Yoon Seungho!! Both had been wounded. Then I realized that this scene mirrored Min’s words in the other taven: “Having fun at Yoon Seungho’s expense”. But more importantly, in Lee Jihwa’s mind, this sentence represented the separation of the couple. Due to the ruined painting, the lord felt rejected and betrayed. (chapter 12) Thus in the red-haired aristocrat’s mind, Yoon Seungho would turn his back on Baek Na-Kyum and abandon him. He would imitate the painter. A betrayal leads to a betrayal. There is no forgiveness. That’s the reason why Lee Jihwa never anticipated that he would get abandoned after getting caught in the study. So far, Yoon Seungho had always forgiven him! (chapter 18)

But why? It is because Baek Na-Kyum had revived the lord’s long lost passion: painting! It was bringing colors and as such light in his darkness. If he were to send away the artist, he would lose his soul forever. He would remain trapped in the nightmare forever. This truly exposes that Lee Jihwa hadn’t truly grasped the significance of painting in Yoon Seungho’s life. In his eyes, it was just an important hobby. (chapter 14), whereas in verity, this passion was essential and even vital for Yoon Seungho. In his subconscious, the lord sensed the healing effect. This would make him smile and provoke emotions and arousal!

3. The presence of the Joker

I discovered another similarity between all these scenes: the presence of a trick! You are probably surprised by this connection, but don’t forget that “trick” is a synonym for “conspiracy, deception and illusion”. And the joker embodies these values, especially if you consider Painter Of The Night as a new version of Batman and The Dark Knight.

In chapter 1, I had explained that the painter was supposed to get killed in the inn. Thus the tavern got closed for the night. It is also possible that the lord went there after the curfew. (chapter 1) There was no witness for these reasons. No one should notice the execution of the commoner Baek Na-Kyum. Secondly, the book had been switched. The lord had shown this to the butler (chapter 1), but when Yoon Seungho interrogated the artist, he exposed a different publication: (chapter 1) It was, as if the painter was forced to deny to be the author of this book. There is no ambiguity that the servant had lied to Yoon Seungho, just like the painter was not entirely honest with Yoon Seungho. In my eyes, the painter had not noticed the divergence. As you can see, the meeting was staged. Unknown people were involved in this encounter so that we could say that the protagonists were just pawns during this scene.

In episode 12, the trick had taken place in the mansion, yet the manhwaphiles shouldn’t overlook that Lee Jihwa had been incited to get revenge on the noble with the mole. (chapter 12) The drop of sweat on his face clearly indicates that he was just feigning ignorance. This exposes that the noble with the mole was deceiving his friend and as such betraying him.

In chapter 36, Min definitely lied to the young master Jihwa. (chapter 36) He was inciting the antagonist to return to the mansion so that he would catch the couple having sex together. That’s the reason why Black Heart made such a comment in the pavilion of his friend: (chapter 43) Yet, this trick didn’t work like Black Heart had anticipated. Why? He imagined that the red-haired noble would resent his friend for his abandonment and betrayal. The reality is that the antagonist reproached The Joker for his lies, he had been manipulating him. (chapter 43)

But let’s return to the scene in the tavern. (chapter 36) The noble with the mole remained silent, but he was well aware of his friend’s manipulations. This indicates that he had become his accomplice. We could say that he helped to create an illusion.

In chapter 56, the childhood friend had forged a letter, forcing Yoon Seungho to go to the inn. However, this time the trick was discovered. (chapter 56) Simultaneously, the butler deceived the tavern owner. He portrayed the red-haired master in such a negative light that she had no compassion for him. (chapter 59) She wished to get rid of him as soon as possible. Thus she asked the Joker to take care of him. (chapter 59) This truly exposes the talent of Kim’s manipulative nature. The tricks are exposing the hypocrisy and lack of loyalty among the characters.

In season 3, the manhwalovers could perceive the presence of 2 Jokers: Black Heart who faked that this meeting was just random. (chapter 92) However, he had been informed about the content of the paper, for he could already determine the genre of the text without seeing the writing. At the same time, he also deceived the couple by taking away the Spring poem. (chapter 92) We never saw him returning it. As for the second trickster, it was naturally Kim who hid under the hanbok which had a similar color than Jung In-Hun’s. (chapter 92) He desired to remind the painter of the existence of the scholar. However, this trick failed too. Why? It is because just before the painter had seen a kisaeng wearing the same robe. (chapter 92) He was just reminded of his noonas, and not just Heena and Jung In-Hun. Furthermore, the butler had overlooked another aspect: Yoon Seungho had been wearing a similar hanbok. (chapter 78) This means that the painter was no longer associating the lavender color to the learned sir. Slowly, the main lead was replacing the teacher and as such, he was moving on from his crush. Thus such an attitude could be perceived by a malevolent eye as indifference and hatred. My avid readers can already understand who I am referring to with such a statement. However, we are all aware that the painter is still loyal towards the learned sir. (chapter 94). Nevertheless, I would like the painterofthenight-stans to take a closer look to this image: (chapter 92) Yes, the couple was sitting in an inn eating sweet potatoes. When I saw this panel for the first time, the man in black caught my attention. His presence puzzled me, for he was standing next to a kisaeng working in the inn. This is totally unusual, for no noble would remain immobile close to the fire place and as such the kitchen. Secondly, he was not wearing his gat, indicating that he was violating social norms. [For more read the essay Coming-Of-Ages] Back then, I had thought that this was the scholar. However, the latter would always pay attention to his appearances. Moreover, he embodies social norms, so he would never move around without his hat. Was he a Joker spying on the couple? For me yes, especially if you take into consideration that there were always 3 people in each scene taking place in the inn. One thing is sure: Min had been informed about the painter’s desire for a Spring poem and his visit to the calligrapher. This means that during their stay in the tavern, the painter had talked constantly about this. So the kisaeng could have heard about the content of their conversation. One might argue that this stay stands in opposition to the other scenes. In this inn, there was no tear, no alcohol and no “betrayal”. But the manhwalovers shouldn’t forget that during that scene, the lord was actually rejecting the suggestion of the painter. The former saw no reason why they should look for the calligrapher!! Yoon Seungho was on the verge of breaking his promise, a “betrayal”. The irony is that he was so annoyed by the painter’s words, that at the end he gave in. (chapter 91) He was on the verge of losing his “sanity”😉, for the painter kept talking how important it was to protect from bad luck! As you can see, this scene is not different from the others: insanity, longing, trick, betrayal and rejection! The absence of tears and alcohol is easily explainable. The painter was not heartbroken, he just saw this as a necessity. Furthermore, this scene made me realize that the tavern is connected to arts. In almost all the mentioned chapters, the characters implied the erotic publications or arts. The spring poem is compared to a drawing by the painter, the calligraphy reminded him of snow flakes. Once again, the exception of this element is chapter 36! Here, Black Min and Lee Jihwa were only referring to sex and nothing more. (chapter 36) This outlines that sodomy had replaced the lord’s original passions: poetry and painting. Yet, the manhwaphiles shouldn’t forget that in chapter 36 the author had included a scene with painting. This is no coincidence that during the same night, the lord took the brush and created a orchid on his lover’s stomach. (chapter 36) From my point of view, Lee Jihwa was aware that his friend had been forced to renounce on his passions. Thus he said this: (chapter 36) To conclude, there is a strong connection between the tavern and arts. The manhwaworms will certainly recall that many kisaengs would start working in taverns, once they reached a certain age. And look at this: (chapter 74) I had already explained in a different essay that in chapter 75, the painter had been thinking about his noonas and in particular about Heena, because he had seen the kisaeng. Thus he kept thinking about his sister’s words: (chapter 75) However, observe that in chapter 92, he was so focused on the Spring poem that he didn’t see the kisaeng in this tavern. (chapter 92) Thus I come to the conclusion that the schemers must have played a similar trick later. However, this time, there was not just one kisaeng, but two! Moreover, these were still active kisaengs which is visible due to the colors of their hanboks. (chapter 92). That’s the reason why I am more than ever convinced that the man in the black hanbok was connected to Min.

Thus I am deducing that in the past, one of the characters in the tavern got deceived by his companion. And here, I am thinking of the patriarch Yoon Chang-Hyeon. In my eyes, he must have committed a wrongdoing there, but he never realized it. I would even add that he never recognized that his mistake would have terrible consequences for his family and in particular for Yoon Seungho. This explains why the location embodies guilt either. Moreover, don’t forget that according to me, the mysterious lord Song must have visited this place in the past.

4. Humiliation

By contrasting these scenes, I came to recognize another pattern: pride which led to humiliation. In chapter 1, the lord executed the servant, for he had “fooled” him. His honor had been soiled. (chapter 1) In chapter 12, the childhood friend praised the main character. He had acted like a true lord with the sentence. (chapter 12) Furthermore, the noble with the hunting outfit had been avenged, so his honor had been restored. In chapter 36, the red-haired master had first acted like a prideful master. (chapter 36) He would only forgive his friend, if the latter would come to see him. Furthermore, when the latter confessed to his friend, he threw his pride over board: (chapter 57) He was willing to accept this humiliation, if in exchange he could rekindle with Yoon Seungho. He hoped by lowering himself that his friend would come to save his honor. He wouldn’t reject him due his title and social norms. Yet, his dream didn’t come true, so we could say that he had the impression that he was sent to hell. Then in chapter 75, the learned sir’s pride had been wounded because of the erotic paintings. (chapter 75) As for Black Heart, he got insulted in the tavern. He was splashed with water. And what did the noble with the green hanbok reply to this insult? He announced that he would seek revenge on Yoon Seungho (chapter 92) Lee Jihwa was also full by resent and revenge, when he realized that the lord had made love to the painter after he had been rejected. (chapter 60) Thus shortly after, the young man had a weapon in his hand (though according to me, this tool was placed by Kim) (chapter 60). His intention was to kill the painter, though here he was just acting on affect. As you can see, the inn is in reality connected to a crime, and the desire of revenge! Don’t forget what Yoon Seungho said to the messenger: (chapter 80) According to his words, he had insulted the king by not utilizing the correct title. BUT we shouldn’t take this declaration as face-value, for the main lead is just repeating what he has been told. I have always said that the pedophile had been motivated by revenge and lust. The latter had been humiliated! Now, for the first time, I see a strong connection between the tavern and the wrongdoing linked to the mysterious lord. But what is the common denominator between all these scenes? CONFESSION! In chapter 1, Yoon Seungho confessed his admiration for the artist. In chapter 36, Lee Jihwa admitted the existence of a secret and his friend’s torment. In chapter 57 and 75, both ukes confessed their love (the main lead and painting). On the other hand, confession has a different meaning: admission of a crime! Thus I am suspecting that “lord Song” got rejected in this place. Thus he felt humiliated and his thirst for revenge took over. And it is related to arts!!

5. The guests in the inn

First, we have the presence of the noble with the mole who keeps wearing a purple outfit. The color reminds me of this guest. (chapter 83) This reinforces my conviction that lord Song visited the tavern once.

Secondly, I detected the presence of a servant in the inn: 1, 12, 57, 59 and 92. In episode 59, I had already pointed out that a servant from the Lees had visited the inn, for there were foot prints in the snow. (chapter 59) Then in chapter 75, we should consider Baek Na-Kyum as a servant due to his clothes. (chapter 75) And now, if you take into consideration that the servant from episode 1 and 12 were acting on Kim’s behalf, you will realize that the servant in the past can only be KIM. And he was present in episode 92. (chapter 92) Furthermore, according to my observation, he was working with No-Name during the night of the abduction. This means that Kim witnessed something. And since he is seen tattling to Min, I come to the conclusion that he denunciated someone!! This represents the confession of a “crime”. And this can only be the Yoons in my opinion. Servant in episode 1 had spied onto Baek Na-Kyum, and the servant from episode 12 had also reported to Lee Jihwa. Kim in episode 57 and 92 left the mansion without permission, and this was the case for the domestic in episode 12 either.

What caught my attention is that Min got more and more involved with the tavern. In chapter 12, his friend was the only one present. Then in chapter 36, he appeared for the first time. There he faked his understanding and concern for Lee Jihwa (chapter 36) In season 2, the Joker didn’t follow the red-haired master to the inn, yet there is no doubt that he sent the noble with the mole in his place. As you can see, the noble with the mole was Min’s emissary. He was supposed to manipulate his friend to follow Min’s request. Min knew about Lee Jihwa’s hesitation. (chapter 57) Thus he vanished, when he saw Yoon Seungho’s reaction. He realized that the protagonist could detect his presence. He feared that Yoon Seungho could recognize that they were the ones behind the letter of lord Song. Finally, in chapter 92, Black Heart joined the couple for the first time there. He definitely hoped to drive an edge between them. He hoped to get the attention from Baek Na-Kyum in the end. But he never succeeded. Thus I came to realize that Black Heart was preparing the arrival of the mysterious lord Song. The latter will replace Min.

6. Conclusions and predictions

The tavern doesn’t just symbolize confession, longing, rejection and abandonment, but also it is strongly connected to a wrongdoing. Thus the place is connected to humiliation, guilt and punishment. Moreover, I also discovered the link between the inn and arts. Consequently, I came to the following conclusion: everything started in the tavern which led to Yoon Seungho’s downfall and suffering. THUS the title is NIGHTMARE INN! Observe that Lee Jihwa’s reputation got ruined within a day after Kim spread this rumor about him: (chapter 59) His despair was fake, hence he was abandoned by the inn owner. This would explain why no one remembers the lord’s past good reputation. (chapter 57) This incident mirrors the past, the only difference is that the main lead was totally innocent contrary to Lee Jihwa, who had been partially responsible for his friend’s suffering. Under this new perspective, it becomes understandable why the author would start the story more or less in the tavern. But since the place is associated to sanity versus insanity (losing the wits), I am suspecting that the “wrongdoing” from the patriarch never deserved such a “punishment”. This sentence was out of proportion.

Because I made a connection between Heena and lord Song, I am expecting that we will see them there at some point. For me, there is no ambiguity that the woman is not dead. Besides, the painter needs to confront his noona about her lies and manipulations in the past and present. Heena, as a former kisaeng, could earn her living by working in the tavern. (chapter 01)

Finally, let’s not forget in this place, the painter had been betrayed by the noona and the scholar. How could Baek Na-Kyum live as a drunk, when he was no longer painting? Moreover, keep in mind that the vow was connected to erotic paintings. (chapter 34) Technically, he could paint other things (plants, animal etc), like in his childhood. Hence I have the impression that he had been pressured to become a painter of erotic paintings… the former version of season 1. And for me, Heena was behind this. Yet, the painter confessed in the tavern that he could no longer paint. (chapter 75) This means that he had forgotten how to paint nature or landscapes, and this reminds me of Yoon Seungho’s destiny. Note that he first started drawing erotic paintings (chapter 23) before drawing the orchid! (chapter 36) So when the painter was heartbroken and sad, drowning his sorrow in alcohol, someone had to pay for the bills and for me, this can only be the head-kisaeng. In my eyes, Heena and Jung In-Hun knew how and where the painter was living, but this was not their problem.

As a conclusion, expect another confession and rejection in the tavern, when season 4 is released. At the same time, I have the feeling that the authorities will get involved in this place. Why? Because of this: (chapter 1) and the element “confession” which is associated to crime. Back then, there was no witness and this scene took place during the night. No ruckus!! People in Joseon were not allowed to walk during the night due to the curfew. This stands in opposition to these scenes: it was not too late, thus the tavern was not closed yet (chapter 59) And this made me realize that the scene in the tavern from season 3 took place during the day contrary to season 1, while in season 2, we have both: the day and the night! Thus I am expecting that two scenes in the tavern will take place, one during the day and the other during the night in season 4. Let’s not forget that in chapter 75, the couple had remained there until nightfall.. (chapter 75) Finally, I believe that this scene in the tavern is linked to Kim, he will report the painter to the authorities. However, this night won’t end like a nightmare, for the circle is about to get closed, the end of ouroboros, the circle of revenge and hatred!! .

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.