Please support the authors by reading Manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the Manhwa: Jinx But be aware that the Manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. Here is the link of the table of contents about Jinx. Here is the link where you can find the table of contents of analyzed Manhwas. Here are the links, if you are interested in the first work from Mingwa, BJ Alex, and the 2 previous essays about Jinx Why Sleeping Beauty Had to Bleed part 2 and A Ruthless Fight, A Loverboy Break
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The Ghosts in the Warmth: Why Episode 100 Left Us Cold
Episode 100 of Jinx left many readers strangely unsatisfied. Some felt frustrated 😤, others emotionally empty. A few among us — readers, fans, longtime Jinx-lovers — even believed that this chapter resembled an ending so much that Mingwa herself had to clarify publicly (on X) that the story was not over. Some readers even considered dropping the story entirely. That alone says a great deal about the emotional violence of this chapter.
When a story’s atmosphere becomes so suffocating that readers instinctively want to step away from it, something unusual has happened. Dropping the story almost becomes a survival instinct. Remaining inside the narrative means remaining trapped in that freezing penthouse together with Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, surrounded by silence, distance, and unresolved pain.
But why did this episode create such discomfort? 
(chapter 100) Why does a chapter filled with flowers 
(chapter 100), warmth 
(chapter 100), survival, and reunion 
(chapter 100) feel so painfully cold? Why does “Goodbye then…” 
(chapter 100) sound more violent than the stabbing itself?
And perhaps the most disturbing question of all: how did Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung end up acting like ghosts around each other?
For dozens of chapters, readers endured intense angst, toxic power dynamics, emotional repression, and physical trauma while holding onto a collective expectation: eventually, communication and emotional honesty would heal the damage. 
(chapter 99) Episode 100 appeared to be that turning point. The stabbing should have shattered the emotional walls between the protagonists. Many expected tears, confrontation, confession, catharsis. Instead, Mingwa deliberately subverted the classic romance payoff. Rather than an emotional embrace, readers received silence, hesitation, distance, and a strangely clinical handshake. 
(chapter 100)
For many readers, that absence of catharsis felt almost unbearable. The realization suddenly emerged that the road toward healing might be just as long, painful, and exhausting as the road toward destruction itself.
At the same time, episode 100 strips away much of the fictional distance that once existed between the protagonists and the audience. Earlier in the story, Joo Jaekyung often functioned as a larger-than-life “red flag” character: 
(chapter 96) dramatic, excessive, intimidating, almost unreal. But the tragedy presented in this chapter feels painfully ordinary in comparison. 
(chapter 100) Two people paralyze each other through assumptions, guilt 
(chapter 100), low self-esteem 
(chapter 100), fear of vulnerability, and lack of communication. Neither asks the questions that truly matter. 
(chapter 100) Neither says what they genuinely feel. 
(chapter 100) Almost everyone has experienced a relationship, friendship, or family dynamic damaged not by hatred, but by silence and emotional avoidance. That realism transforms the chapter into something deeply uncomfortable because the fantasy slowly disappears, leaving behind a frighteningly human mirror.
Readers blamed Kim Dan for his passivity and self-sacrificial tendencies. 
(chapter 100) Others condemned Joo Jaekyung for his emotional withdrawal and ghost-like behavior. 
(chapter 100) Yet perhaps the real mystery of episode 100 is not who was right or wrong. Perhaps the more important question is this: how did two people who clearly long for each other become so incapable of speaking honestly at the very moment they needed it most?
The deeper one looks into this chapter, the stranger and more painful it becomes. Like wine slowly revealing hidden notes over time, episode 100 transforms upon rereading. Details that initially appeared insignificant — a warm hand, a bouquet of flowers, a hidden night visit, a missing conversation, a closed penthouse door, a simple “THUD” (chapter 100) — gradually begin forming another story beneath the surface.
A story not about the absence of love, but about the terrifying consequences of silence and secrecy.
The Counterfeit Departure
The final emotional image of episode 100 is not the handshake between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, but the empty entrance of the penthouse accompanied by the words: (chapter 100) and the unsettling sound effect:
“THUD.”
This distinction is extremely important because the handshake itself does not yet create the impression of definitive separation. 
(chapter 100) On the contrary, the scene still contains physical proximity, warmth, gratitude, and mutual recognition. The handshake almost functions as an acknowledgment of everything the two protagonists survived together, but also as a quiet expression of thanks. Kim Dan recognizes the champion’s help, while Joo Jaekyung finally allows physical contact to occur without violence, coercion, or sexual tension. The emotional atmosphere only becomes truly haunting once Mingwa deliberately removes both protagonists from the frame itself, leaving behind nothing but the silent entrance and the implication of departure. (chapter 100)
Even the wording of the farewell creates ambiguity. Without the points of suspension, “Goodbye then” would sound definitive, emotionally sealed, almost like the final sentence of a completed story. Yet the ellipsis fundamentally changes the atmosphere of the phrase. The farewell suddenly becomes suspended, unfinished, hesitant. Kim Dan does not simply say goodbye; he trails off emotionally.
The word “then” itself is equally fascinating because it weakens the apparent finality of the separation. It functions as a temporal marker suggesting postponement:
not now,
after this,
later.
The phrase therefore already contains the contradiction defining the entire chapter. Verbally, Kim Dan enacts separation. Emotionally, however, he still remains attached to Joo Jaekyung. The title quietly preserves the possibility of continuation, just as the chapter itself refuses to provide true emotional closure.
Why end the chapter there?
Doors in Jinx are never neutral architectural elements. 
Throughout the story, they repeatedly symbolize secrecy 
(chapter 7), emotional distance, hidden truths, privacy, abandonment, and separation 
(chapter 64). A closed door immediately creates the impression that something has ended. (chapter 100) Someone has left. Access has been denied. Naturally, many readers instinctively interpreted this panel in the simplest possible way:
Kim Dan has already left the penthouse.
And once this assumption is accepted, the chapter suddenly feels final. The emotional logic becomes brutally simple. The debt is gone. The fight is over. The criminals were arrested. 
(chapter 100) The protagonists separate. The door closes. The story ends. It almost resembles the conclusion of a dark fairy tale where the suffering has finally reached its endpoint.
The problem is that the panel itself is far more ambiguous than it initially appears. (chapter 100)
The entrance is empty, yes, but the image does not actually show Kim Dan leaving the apartment. On the contrary, the scene remains strangely suspended. Mingwa does not show the elevator descending, the street outside, or Kim Dan physically walking away. 
(chapter 4) Instead, she traps both the reader and the characters inside the penthouse itself, forcing us to stare at an almost silent threshold. (chapter 100)
This detail becomes even more significant when we observe the scene immediately preceding the “goodbye.” Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung still stand physically facing one another. 
(chapter 100) Their feet remain oriented toward each other at the entrance. In Jinx, body positioning often reveals emotions that words suppress, and here the contradiction is devastating. Verbally, both protagonists are enacting separation. Physically, however, their bodies still seek connection. Neither truly turns away. The image therefore creates emotional suspension rather than emotional closure.
This is precisely why Mingwa does not show the actual departure itself at the end of the chapter. Emotionally, the separation remains incomplete because the protagonists themselves are incapable of fully separating from one another. The final panel traps both the characters and the audience inside the threshold between staying and leaving. (chapter 100)
The farewell scene itself becomes even more painful when placed beside earlier internal monologues from Joo Jaekyung that gain new meaning in retrospect. Earlier in the story, the champion silently admitted: 
(chapter 97) Another scene reinforces this same emotional desire: 
(chapter 97) These confessions reveal that beneath the aggression, possessiveness 
(chapter 82), and obsession with fighting and Kim Dan stood a much simpler fear: abandonment.
Yet when episode 100 finally confronts him with the possibility of Kim Dan truly leaving, Joo Jaekyung says the exact opposite of what he once desired. Instead of asking him to stay, he turns his head away and quietly says: (chapter 100) The Korean version with “가” (“Ka”) makes the moment even harsher because of its simplicity. It is short, direct, emotionally stripped bare:
Go.
And suddenly, the scene exposes the champion’s loneliness with devastating clarity.
Kim Dan stands before him carrying his bag, partially turned away, visually resembling the blurred image of departure from Jaekyung’s earlier imagination. 
(chapter 97) At the same time, Joo Jaekyung himself avoids looking directly at him. Both characters physically reproduce emotional withdrawal. Neither can fully face the other because both are trapped inside fear, guilt, longing, and self-suppression.
Most tragically, Joo Jaekyung participates in the very abandonment he fears. Rather than risking rejection by asking Kim Dan to stay, he verbally permits the separation himself. The scene therefore does not portray emotional indifference, but defensive surrender. (chapter 100) The champion who once appeared emotionally untouchable reveals himself incapable of expressing the one thing he truly wants:
“Please stay with me.”
At the same time, both protagonists are now attempting to love through self-removal.
This emotional mirroring becomes even more fascinating when connected to the idea of tactile dissonance developed earlier in the story. (chapter 95) 
Ironically, the eight-day separation did not emotionally distance the protagonists from one another. Quite the opposite. During this period, they became increasingly synchronized mentally and emotionally. 
(chapter 97) Their thoughts, fears, and desires slowly began aligning almost unconsciously. Yet this growing emotional attunement produces a tragic paradox: they become so psychologically similar that they can no longer recognize their own reflection inside the other person. (chapter 100) (chapter 100) The real tragedy of episode 100 is therefore not emotional distance, but excessive emotional synchronization without communication.
Kim Dan increasingly convinces himself that he represents a burden (chapter 100) and even a threat to Joo Jaekyung’s career. The harassment, the public humiliation, the scandal surrounding the championship, and the stabbing itself all reinforce the idea that remaining beside the champion will only continue damaging his reputation and future.
Joo Jaekyung, meanwhile, arrives at the opposite side of the same tragedy. He increasingly perceives himself as a source of contamination and danger. (chapter 100) The harassment, Kim Dan’s suicidal despair, the sleepwalking, the stabbing, and the violence surrounding the championship all reinforce the terrifying idea that Kim Dan suffers because he entered his world. In his eyes, Kim Dan’s life is now endangered because of him.
Ironically, this emotional synchronization does not bring them closer together communicatively. Instead, it pushes both men toward the same logic of self-removal. (chapter 100) Kim Dan leaves because he believes the champion will recover better without him. Like out of sight, out of mind! Joo Jaekyung lets him go because he believes keeping him close will only expose him to more suffering.
Thus, both silently cooperate in mutual abandonment while simultaneously longing for the exact opposite.
Even the sound effect deserves closer attention. (chapter 100) Many readers automatically interpreted “THUD” as the sound of a closing door. Well, the Spanish translation is indeed “Clack” and not thud. So one might jump to the conclusion that there’s an error in the English version. Yet visually, the effect does not fully behave like one. The vertical motion lines suggest movement from top to bottom rather than the lateral motion usually associated with a door shutting. The sound resembles impact, instability, or collapse more than simple departure. This becomes particularly interesting when compared to earlier scenes such as episodes 57 and 61
(chapter 61) 
(chapter 57), where emotional shock and physical weakness are visually connected to walls, imbalance, and bodies searching for support. The ambiguity becomes important because chapter 100 never clearly identifies (chapter 100) who destabilizes physically in that moment. Readers instinctively assume Kim Dan has already left, but the visual language simultaneously leaves open another disturbing possibility: that someone inside the penthouse is collapsing.
In other words, the panel may not depict emotional closure at all. It may instead depict destabilization. This possibility completely transforms the emotional meaning of the chapter. The “goodbye” no longer functions as a clean farewell, but almost like a psychological blow. Words can kill. And here, Kim Dan’s calm “Goodbye then…” lands with the violence of an invisible wound.
The choice of the empty entrance as the final image therefore reveals something important about reader psychology as well. The chapter creates the illusion of a completed fairy tale ending while simultaneously making that ending feel emotionally wrong. Earlier in the story, Kim Dan unconsciously adopted this exact logic himself through the expression:
(chapter 41)
Like a little boy trying to force reality into the structure of a fairy tale, he attempts to convince himself that the story has now reached its proper conclusion. 
(chapter 100) The champion won. The villains were punished. 
(chapter 100) The debt disappeared. 
(chapter 77) Therefore separation must be the correct final step.
Yet Mingwa visually undermines this interpretation at every turn. (chapter 100)
The penthouse feels too empty, too silent, too cold, and too unresolved. The atmosphere resembles not peace, but haunting. Instead of emotional catharsis, the reader experiences emotional suspension.
Perhaps this explains why so many readers reacted so strongly to episode 100. The chapter weaponizes absence itself. Mingwa does not simply separate the protagonists; she traps both the characters and the audience inside uncertainty. The zoom on the closed entrance intensifies this sensation even further. Readers feel suffocated because the panel transforms the penthouse into a frozen emotional space where communication has failed completely.
The door therefore symbolizes much more than physical departure. It becomes the visual embodiment of the chapter’s central tragedy: two people standing on opposite sides of an emotional threshold (chapter 100), unable to reach one another despite desperately longing to do so.
What A Little Wimp
Before examining the significance of the handshake itself, we must return to one of the earliest emotional patterns established in the story: Kim Dan’s awkward departure after treating Joo Jaekyung at the gym. After accidentally crossing a physical boundary 
(chapter 1) and leaving himself totally embarrassed 
(chapter 1), the physical therapist has only one thought in mind: to run away. Before opening the door, he nervously stammers 
(chapter 1) and hurries away. Joo Jaekyung’s reaction after his departure is dismissive and mocking: 
(chapter 1)
At first glance, the scene appears almost comedic. Kim Dan blushes, panics, avoids eye contact, and escapes after touching the champion too intimately. Yet retrospectively, this moment establishes an important pattern: touch 
(chapter 1), admiration 
(chapter 1), destabilization, and departure are already intertwined from the very beginning. Kim Dan does not simply treat Joo Jaekyung’s body; he admires it through his hands and eyes, marveling at how different it is from every other client he has known. The accidental touch breaks the professional frame, and the result is immediate flight. (chapter 1)
This early departure quickly becomes part of Jaekyung’s mental archive. In episode 4, he does not actually witness Kim Dan leaving the penthouse (chapter 4); he only discovers the empty bed afterward. 
(chapter 4) The absence itself triggers projection. He imagines Kim Dan walking away, already converting disappearance into an internal image. Later, in episode 53, this fear becomes reality: Kim Dan truly leaves the penthouse 
(chapter 53), and this time the departure is explicitly shown. In his own mind, the doctor does not intend to return. By episode 97, the image repeats once more (chapter 97) when Jaekyung admits that he wants to ask Kim Dan not to leave, yet immediately imagines him walking away if he refuses. Significantly, as the figure of Kim Dan recedes into the distance, a heavy, creeping darkness swallows the panel. The shadow beneath Dan’s feet bleeds forward, stretching into a profound black void that anchors itself directly to Jaekyung’s perspective. This visual graduation of shadow reveals that Kim Dan’s departure is no longer just a hypothetical exit; it is an oncoming emotional eclipse. Jaekyung’s subconscious recognizes that if Dan walks out that door, the ensuing darkness will be absolute—a trauma from which the champion will not be able to recover.
This is why the line “What a little wimp” becomes deeply tragic in retrospect. The supposedly untouchable champion has become the one haunted by departure. The man who once mocked Kim Dan’s awkward escape now fears being left behind so intensely that he projects abandonment before it even happens. Hence he turns away like Kim Dan in episode 1. (chapter 100)
This fear cannot be separated from Jaekyung’s family wound. The image of his mother, presented entirely through her back and her silence 
(chapter 73), suggests not only physical departure but permanent emotional inaccessibility. His father’s bitter line—“You are your mother’s son, after all”—reveals that this silence wounded him too. The father was not merely angry because the mother left; he was wounded by the way she left: without true confrontation, without emotional clarity, and perhaps with some distant promise that never became presence. The turned back, the heavy silence, and the unresolved farewell became the core of Jaekyung’s inherited trauma. He stops fighting for the relationship itself 
(chapter 72) and begins fighting merely against the clock, trying to finish a transaction before the countdown hits zero. This memory exposes a foundational trauma. To a young Jaekyung, his mother’s disappearance was directly tied to a transactional failure—his father’s inability to stop her or provide financial security. Consequently, Jaekyung internalized a distorted lesson: love is not protected through vulnerability, communication, or emotional pleading. Love is protected through material capacity and performance. In his child mind, a countdown began: he had to grow up, amass immense wealth, and become powerful enough to buy back his mother’s presence.
Tragically, this transactional clock is the exact blueprint he uses when Kim Dan enters his life. We see the definitive script for this transactional countdown written explicitly by Jaekyung himself in episode 77. Sitting on a wooden platform under a rare, open sky, the champion retreats into the safety of a contract to mask his growing vulnerability, declaring: (chapter 77) This is no coincidence that as he sets this absolute deadline, Mingwa frames Jaekyung from behind 
(chapter 77) He turns his back entirely, casting his face in shadow and physically reproducing the visual motif of his childhood trauma. He is verbally establishing a countdown while visually acting out an ending. By telling Dan that their proximity is strictly bounded by the final bell of the title match, Jaekyung constructs the very cage that will later paralyze him.
Consequently, as the title match draws closer in episode 95, this psychological clock accelerates to a suffocating degree Surrounded by chaotic media headlines speculating about his imminent match and the possible collapse of his career
(chapter 95), Jaekyung’s mental space becomes a dark, claustrophobic cage. While sparring, his only internal thought is sheer exhaustion: “I just want to win this match and get it over with…”
Therefore it is not surprising why he chose to listen to his manager and distanced himself from his fated partner. In a sense, he first stops fighting for Kim Dan and begins fighting merely to reach the end of the timeline. The championship ceases to represent ambition, glory, or even personal desire; it becomes an expiration date. Increasingly, the champion loses the ability to project himself into the future at all.
This is precisely why his later thoughts become so devastating. When Jaekyung admits: (chapter 97),
the importance lies not only in the fear of abandonment, but in the word ask itself. For perhaps the first time in the story, Jaekyung unconsciously accepts Kim Dan’s freedom to choose. He no longer thinks in terms of ownership, obligation, or debt. Deep down, he already understands that once the match ends, Kim Dan will be free to leave him behind.
Yet even here, Jaekyung’s emotional framework remains tragically incomplete. Although he has begun abandoning the logic of ownership, he still cannot truly imagine a future built upon mutual existence rather than temporary possession. His thoughts remain structured around the championship timeline itself. The title match continues functioning as the organizing principle of reality. Even the phrase:
“…even after the match is over”
reveals the limitation of his emotional imagination. Jaekyung can imagine asking Kim Dan to remain. He can imagine losing him. He can imagine surrendering him. But he still cannot truly imagine simply living with him.
In other words, the champion still thinks in terms of “having” rather than “being.” [For more read the essay The Art of Loving] ]The relationship continues existing psychologically as something bounded by deadlines, countdowns, and expiration points. Once the contractual structure dissolves, Jaekyung unconsciously reaches the edge of his own emotional framework. The countdown ends, yet nothing replaces it.
And tragically, this realization does not awaken hope inside the champion, but resignation. Even before Kim Dan makes any choice himself, Jaekyung emotionally begins surrendering him. (chapter 97) The man once defined entirely by his monstrous willpower gradually loses his fighting spirit altogether. He no longer fights for a future with Kim Dan; he merely tries to endure the final countdown before the separation he already believes inevitable.
Therefore, when Kim Dan stands before him in episode 100 
(chapter 100), Jaekyung is not reacting only to the present moment. He is reacting to a projected abandonment shaped by earlier departures, his parents’ history, the transactional contract he wound up himself, and the immense guilt he carries over the violence surrounding Kim Dan. The champion now knows about the harassment, the attempted sexual assault orchestrated through the former director of the hospital, the suicidal despair, the sleepwalking, the stabbing, and the terrifying chain of events connected to the championship itself. Increasingly, Jaekyung no longer sees himself merely as someone who might lose Kim Dan emotionally; he sees himself as the center of a destructive orbit that continually places Dan in danger. He seems to think, he is Kim Dan’s jinx. (chapter 100) That’s why Joo Jaekyung is no longer fighting, he has already anticipated the loss.
Ironically, by episode 97, Kim Dan himself has already begun unconsciously stepping into a completely different emotional mode. While Jaekyung remains trapped inside countdowns, departures, and anticipatory endings, the physical therapist instinctively begins imagining ordinary relational existence. This contrast becomes particularly visible with the hamster’s dream 
(chapter 97) , where Kim Dan arrives with a cake to celebrate Jaekyung reclaiming his championship title. The atmosphere of the interaction is striking precisely because of its normality. There is no treatment session, no debt, no violence, no professional obligation dominating the exchange. For this brief dream , Kim Dan behaves less like an employee or caretaker and more like someone already sharing daily life with the champion. 
(chapter 97)
The small gesture of smearing cream across Jaekyung’s face becomes symbolically important for this reason. Kim Dan momentarily strips the champion of his overwhelming public aura and interacts with him through casual intimacy rather than admiration or fear. Unlike Jaekyung, Kim Dan unconsciously possesses fragments of an ordinary emotional model inherited from his life with his grandmother and parents: shared meals, small celebrations, routine care 
(chapter 94), and domestic familiarity. While the champion imagines endings, Kim Dan quietly begins imagining continuity.
The Warm Hand against the Jinx
This is precisely why the handshake matters so much. 
(chapter 100) It takes place right before Jaekyung tells Kim Dan to go. For one fragile moment, the projected departure is completely interrupted. Kim Dan is still there. His hand is still warm. The contact is no longer like that first treatment at the gym, where touch was mixed with embarrassment and professional confusion. (chapter 100) This time, touch becomes mutual recognition and reciprocity.
The tragedy is that this recognition does not yet become speech. The handshake briefly suspends the counterfeit departure, but it does not break the silence. After this fleeting moment of contact, Jaekyung retreats straight back into fear and self-removal. Unable to ask Kim Dan to stay, he turns away and says the exact opposite of what he wants: (chapter 100)
The handshake is not the end of the separation. It is the last, desperate interruption before the logic of abandonment reclaims them both.
This is where the spatial layout of the penthouse entrance exposes the final structural contradiction. (chapter 100) When Kim Dan stands before the champion, he is positioned directly in front of the door as though physically replacing it, turning his own body into the threshold. Yet meticulously, Mingwa leaves a massive, artificial gap between the physical therapist and the actual exit behind him. This distance is no coincidence. The vast, empty space behind Dan acts as a visual vacuum—a psychological buffer zone proving that while he is verbally enacting separation, he has not yet crossed the literal threshold.
He is suspended inside a vacuum of his own making, his hand still reaching forward toward connection while the enormous void at his back quietly threatens to swallow the moment whole.
Crucially, this gap represents a profound, hidden chance. It is the positive reflection of “distance.” By leaving such a significant space between his body and the door, Kim Dan has physically delayed his own exit, leaving a literal runway of time and possibility open. The finality of the goodbye has not yet been sealed; the door remains far behind him.
The ultimate tragedy of episode 100 is that Joo Jaekyung completely fails to recognize this positive reflection. (chapter 100) Poisoned by the creeping darkness of his own nightmares, the inherited trauma of his mother’s silence, and the immense guilt surrounding Kim Dan’s suffering, the champion no longer recognizes the distance as a space to step forward and intervene. Instead, his fear of vulnerability completely distorts his perception. He reads the gap not as an opportunity to change the script, but as an approaching, inevitable eclipse.
To protect himself from the pain of watching Dan step backward into the void, Jaekyung surrenders defensively—he turns his head away, preparing himself not to look back, and actively seals the very abandonment he was given a chance to prevent.
No, Joo Jaekyung is no little wimp, but rather a lost puppy frozen upon a threshold of his own making, completely blind to the choice standing before him. Yet because the contract has dissolved and the debt has disappeared, this wide, uncrossed emptiness also remains a radical space of possibility. For the first time, the relationship is no longer mediated by obligation, transaction, or countdown.
And perhaps this finally becomes Kim Dan’s chance to recognize Jaekyung’s paralysis, step into the gap himself, and prove his love and care without expecting anything in return.
Before the counterfeit departure can fully reclaim the scene, Mingwa inserts one final, crucial interruption: the handshake (chapter 100). Significantly, this gesture does not function as a standard goodbye. In ordinary social language, a handshake belongs either to a formal greeting or to a completed farewell. Here, however, the contact appears before Kim Dan says goodbye and before any true separation has taken place. Structurally, the handshake suspends the departure rather than confirming it.
This detail becomes even more meaningful when contrasted with the protagonists’ first encounter at the gym. Back then, there was no mutual greeting ritual between them. 
(chapter 1) Kim Dan bowed nervously while Joo Jaekyung remained emotionally detached, dominant, and superior. Their relationship began asymmetrically: champion and therapist, admired body and embarrassed observer. After accidentally crossing a physical boundary during treatment, Kim Dan fled the room in humiliation, unable to withstand the emotional destabilization caused by touch itself. No reciprocal gesture softened the imbalance. There was no handshake, no equal acknowledgment, and no mutual recognition.
Episode 100 quietly upends that entire foundation. (chapter 100)
For the first time, both protagonists voluntarily reach toward one another at the exact same emotional level. Neither obligation, debt, nor treatment mediates the contact. (chapter 100) The gesture is entirely mutual and even reciprocated, both squeeze each other’s hand. (chapter 100) And unlike the first touch at the gym, which produced panic and flight, this touch produces a profound illumination. Kim Dan’s little gesture exposes a gradual metamorphosis, he becomes more proactive. Hence his fingers linger on the MMA fighter’s skin. 
(chapter 100) 
(chapter 87) It becomes even more obvious, once compared with their hand gesture in Paris.
Unlike chapter 1, however, Kim Dan does not flee from the emotional intensity created through touch. This time, he consciously remains present. While extending his hand, he hesitates softly: (chapter 100)
The hesitation still reveals vulnerability, yet vulnerability no longer produces escape. Instead, Kim Dan deliberately chooses acknowledgment. This detail is crucial because the gratitude expressed here cannot be reduced to money, debt, treatment, or material compensation. In fact, the scene occurs precisely after the contractual framework governing their relationship has dissolved. The debt is gone. The transactional structure has collapsed. Therefore, Kim Dan’s gratitude suddenly becomes profoundly human rather than functional. He is no longer thanking:
- an employer,
- a client,
- or a benefactor.
He is thanking Joo Jaekyung himself.
For perhaps the first time in the story, Kim Dan consciously chooses to close the emotional distance between them instead of running away from it. The hand extended toward Jaekyung therefore becomes far more than a polite social gesture. It becomes Kim Dan’s first genuine attempt to acknowledge their relationship openly and properly.
The importance of this moment lies in what Kim Dan suddenly realizes through physical contact itself. 
(chapter 100) Until now, the physical therapist remained trapped inside a distorted emotional narrative shaped by silence, institutional misunderstanding, his grandmother’s sacrificial principles, and Park Namwook’s logic of performance 
(chapter 43) and Hwang Byungchul’s wrong interpretation 
(chapter 70). Kim Dan had unconsciously learned to interpret Joo Jaekyung primarily as “the champion”: an untouchable entity sustained solely by victory, driven by a hatred of losing, and emotionally fulfilled through performance alone. This explicates why the “hamster” had made the following request: 
(chapter 98)
This misunderstanding becomes painfully visible during the hospital scenes. When Park Namwook explains that the culprit acted under Baek Junmin’s orders (chapter 100) and that Jaekyung blames himself for the attack (chapter 100), the manager unintentionally frames the entire assault through championship logic. The implication quietly becomes that Kim Dan was hurt because he stood too close to the champion, because enemies targeted Jaekyung, and because the title match had to continue.
As a result, doc Dan immediately internalizes guilt through a logic of substitution. He responds: (chapter 100) The statement is devastating because it fuses the two oppressive ideologies that have shaped Kim Dan’s entire life. From Park Namwook and Team Black, he inherited the belief that the championship comes first and that Jaekyung’s happiness depends entirely upon winning. From his grandmother, he inherited the logic of total self-erasure: if suffering must exist in the world, it should fall squarely upon him. Yet the sentence also reveals something even more tragic: Kim Dan still cannot fully imagine the depth of Joo Jaekyung’s emotional attachment to him. By concluding that it was “better” for him to become the victim, he unconsciously reduces the wolf’s suffering to the temporary inconvenience of a threatened match. In doing so, he actually denies the existence of the champion’s true feelings altogether. Kim Dan still sees “the Emperor,” the fighter obsessed with victory, rather than the terrified man who would have suffered infinitely more from losing him than from losing any championship belt. Thus before losing consciousness, he still had this image of the main lead: The Emperor
(chapter 100)
And perhaps this is the most disturbing implication of all. Even after the stabbing, Kim Dan still unconsciously evaluates the situation through the same brutal performance logic governing the fighting world itself: as long as the champion successfully won the match, the suffering required to secure that victory becomes psychologically acceptable. In this sense, Kim Dan does not yet fully confront what the championship truly cost Joo Jaekyung internally. (chapter 100)
After all, Kim Dan never witnessed the psychological destruction surrounding the fight itself. He did not see the emotional collapse hidden behind the title defense, the confrontation with Baek Junmin afterward, or the horrifying guilt poisoning the victory from within. Thus, while Kim Dan begins sensing the champion’s warmth emotionally, he still hesitates to recognize the full extent of the suffering hidden beneath the belt.
The tragedy, therefore, is not simple blindness. Kim Dan is beginning to perceive the truth, yet accepting it fully would force him to confront something unbearable: the possibility that the very victory he believed he protected may have shattered Joo Jaekyung psychologically instead and he might be responsible for his “ruthlessness and destruction”.
So the tragic irony is that the very thing Kim Dan believes he protected—the fight itself—is precisely what begins destroying Joo Jaekyung emotionally. Had the match been postponed, Jaekyung would never have encountered Baek Junmin afterward, never acquired the horrifying knowledge surrounding the assault, and never fused the championship psychologically with harassment, violence, guilt, and emotional collapse. Thus, while Kim Dan believes his sacrifice saved Jaekyung’s future, the victory title increasingly becomes a toxic poison inside the champion’s mind. Hence the young man looks so terrible despite his “victory”. (chapter 100)
And remarkably, almost nobody around them notices this internal collapse. Inside the hospital room, 
(chapter 100), Kim Dan is constantly insulated by a loud wall of warmth, visitors, food, and collective reassurance. Team Black worries boisterously about him 
(chapter 100), jokes around his bed admiring the comfort of the room
(chapter 100), scolds him affectionately, 
(chapter 100) and celebrates his survival. This lively atmosphere gradually reconstructs a superficial sense of normality. Meanwhile, Joo Jaekyung exists almost entirely outside this emotional circle. To the world, the champion is still perceived as rude, unmovable, and heartless, 
(chapter 100) while the members of Team Black get to play the roles of “affectionate and concerned” companions. 
(chapter 100) Even when people discuss Jaekyung, they rarely speak about his exhaustion, fear, loneliness, or his disintegration as a human being. Why? Because they simply do not see it and believes in their hyung’s statement, the manager. They remain entirely blind to the human being beneath the title. They speak only of the match, the culprit, the belt, and his capacity to perform. Because he won the last fight, they treat him as an object that functions correctly, while keeping their distance from his harsh demeanor. They essentially avoid him as a temperamental monster, completely oblivious to the fact that they are leaving a deeply traumatized, lost puppy entirely on his own.
But there is a sharper edge to this scene: Team Black’s affection reveals itself as naive and profoundly superficial. They easily follow conventional social norms—bringing gifts (chapter 100), crying at a bedside—but their care lacks real, grounding intimacy. Neither Potato and Oh Daeyhun were present at the hospital in the hallway in front of the surgery room. None of them have stayed by Jaekyung’s side to offer real comfort 
(chapter 100), thus the manager doesn’t leave his car to greet his boss and champion. He simply drops the physical therapist and drives away. But let’s return our attention to the scene at the hospital. Crucially, none of them correct the physical therapist when he pathologically apologizes for getting hurt. When Kim Dan stammers, (chapter 100), his words expose a deep reservoir of guilt and fractured self-esteem. Instead of challenging this unhealthy mindset, the crowd validates it by accepting the apology and coddling him as an “angel”. (chapter 100) And perhaps this image of the “angel” explains the deeper tragedy perfectly.
An angel is expected to comfort, heal, protect, and endlessly give. People receive warmth from angels, but rarely ask whether angels themselves are bleeding internally. Thus, Team Black fails to recognize that Kim Dan’s goodness itself has become pathological. They cannot see that his self-sacrifice contains a hidden violence directed against himself.
Therefore, it is entirely unsurprising that when Kim Dan finally walks out of that hospital, his internal narrative remains completely unchanged. (chapter 100) Because none of the members around him possessed the depth to correct his self-sacrificial logic, he still views himself exactly as he did before: as an inconvenient burden, a magnet for trouble, and someone who brings nothing but danger into the champion’s orbit. And note that the manager not only is not thanking him for his services but also is not determined to stop him from leaving. 
(chapter 100) For him, physical therapists can be easily replaced. Hence no tears and no handshake before the separation.
This is precisely why the handshake becomes so overwhelming for Kim Dan. Through touch, he suddenly realizes the truth. Joo Jaekyung had visited him for real. (chapter 100) At the same time, he gradually grasps that beneath the terrifying public image (chapter 100), Joo Jaekyung had quietly remained anchored beside him all along. The warmth in the champion’s hand reveals a hidden emotional reality that words denied. Thus, when Kim Dan thinks (chapter 100), the scene becomes far more than a romantic revelation. It is an emotional awakening. For the first time, Kim Dan realizes that the ‘Emperor’ was never emotionally distant by nature, only buried beneath fear, silence, and performance. The warmth in his hand reveals something profoundly human beneath the armor.
Importantly, this tactile recognition also begins transforming Kim Dan’s own inner world. For most of the story, he defined himself through usefulness, shame, and emotional disposability. He believed people kept him nearby only because he served a practical function: grandson, therapist, debtor, caretaker. Even his relationship with Jaekyung remained psychologically filtered through utility. 
(chapter 100) Once the debt disappeared and the championship was reclaimed, Kim Dan instinctively assumed that his role in the champion’s life had ended too.
But the handshake completely destabilizes this entire belief system. Not only the dream became a reality, but also
(chapter 100) the warmth in Jaekyung’s hand reveals that Kim Dan had never merely been “useful.” He had become emotionally necessary. For one fragile moment, Kim Dan experiences himself not as a burden, an obligation, or a temporary possession, but as someone genuinely cherished.
This is why the tiny sparks surrounding the scene matter so much (chapter 100). Earlier in the story, the relationship between the protagonists was repeatedly associated with an invisible, chaotic electricity pulling them together. 
(chapter 86) Episode 100 revives this visual motif, yet transforms its meaning entirely. (chapter 100) The sparks no longer represent physical attraction or dangerous obsession; they resemble embers of emotional recognition finally igniting inside Kim Dan’s consciousness.
Significantly, however, only Kim Dan’s eyes contain visible light in these panels. (chapter 100) He is finally seeing the athlete’s warmth and care. Joo Jaekyung himself appears emotionally dimmed, exhausted, and internally extinguished. 
(chapter 100) Here, he is even portrayed as eyeless, as if he had lost his soul. 
(chapter 99) The asymmetry is devastating. It almost feels as though the champion transfers his final remaining warmth and energy into Kim Dan through the handshake itself. (chapter 100) While Kim Dan awakens emotionally, Jaekyung continues withering inwardly beneath the weight of his guilt, his resignation, and his anticipatory loss.
And perhaps this is the cruelest irony of the scene. Through touch, Kim Dan is not yet fully understanding the love intellectually, rather he is beginning to sense it emotionally.
The realization remains tactile, intuitive, incomplete, and almost dreamlike. Yet at the exact same moment, the man extending that warmth no longer believes anyone will truly remain beside him once the final bell has rung. That’s the reason why the physical therapist looks back at his lover 
(chapter 100), he is detecting lingering feelings.
The handshake scene ultimately transforms not only Kim Dan’s perception of Joo Jaekyung, but the meaning of the jinx itself. (chapter 100) Until now, Kim Dan never truly questioned the existence of the curse surrounding the champion. 
(chapter 27) He simply accepted it as an immutable part of reality. The “jinx” appeared almost supernatural: an ominous, mechanical force attached to Joo Jaekyung’s body, his victories, his violence, his rituals, and his frightening aura. Even the title of the series carried something cold, clinical, and oppressive. The word itself evoked danger, misfortune, contamination, and inevitability.
But episode 100 quietly begins dismantling this darkness.
When Kim Dan grasps Jaekyung’s hand, something extraordinary happens psychologically. Human warmth suddenly illuminates what fear, silence, and mythology had concealed for nearly one hundred chapters. 
(chapter 100) Mingwa reinforces this revelation visually in a remarkable way. Immediately after Kim Dan describes the hand as “pleasantly warm,” the title Jinx itself reappears, glowing softly inside a luminous white space (chapter 100). The contrast with the earlier, heavy atmosphere of the story is striking. The title card no longer feels entirely dark. For the first time in the series, light enters the concept itself.
It is almost as though a hidden truth finally begins surfacing: the real curse was never supernatural fate, sexual ritual, or victory alone.
The true “jinx” was emotional isolation. It was the inability to communicate honestly. The inability to believe oneself worthy of love without usefulness, sacrifice, or performance. The inability to ask someone to stay. The inability to recognize the humanity hidden beneath fear, armor, and symbolic roles.
And perhaps this is why the scene begins subtly echoing Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam. 
For nearly one hundred chapters, Jinx maintained a distorted version of that hierarchy. Joo Jaekyung existed as the towering “God” of the ring, wielding sovereign physical control, while Kim Dan remained the fragile mortal perpetually subjected to debt, rules, contracts, and bodily domination.
Yet as their fingers meet, Mingwa quietly reverses the entire structure. (chapter 100)
Kim Dan now stands upright, initiating the contact himself and reaching voluntarily across the emotional void. Meanwhile, Joo Jaekyung has become the limp, exhausted, emotionally paralyzed figure. His hand no longer stops gripping or possesses. Instead, it grows passive, heavy, and fragile as the fingers slowly begin slipping away.
This is precisely why the handshake becomes symbolically revolutionary. For one brief moment, the protagonists connect outside the toxic logic that governed their relationship for so long: no debt, no contract, no treatment, no championship, no transaction, and no performance. Only warmth.
But this is precisely where the tragedy deepens. Kim Dan is not a triumphant savior breathing life into a grateful recipient. He is still an insecure young man desperately searching for confirmation (chapter 100) that the warmth he sensed was real. He needs Jaekyung to tighten the grip, speak honestly, or offer any sign that he is wanted for more than his usefulness.
Instead, Joo Jaekyung retreats behind silence once again and delivers the devastating command: (chapter 100) This instruction seals Kim Dan’s internal misinterpretation completely. Paired with the slipping handshake, the sentence convinces him that the timeline established back in episode 77 has finally reached its inevitable conclusion. The transaction is over. The debt is dead. He is free to leave.
Yet the tragedy runs even deeper because Kim Dan does not perceive his own departure as abandonment at all. On the contrary, he genuinely believes he is acting lovingly and correctly by removing himself from Jaekyung’s orbit.
And in doing so, he unconsciously reproduces the exact emotional logic that shaped his own life and suffering. 
(chapter 57) Long before episode 100, his grandmother attempted to push him away through almost identical reasoning. 
(chapter 57) Feeling powerless, burdensome, and guilty for his slow emotional deterioration, she repeatedly urged him to return to Seoul, live his own life, and stop “wasting away” beside her. Her love expressed itself through self-removal. Rather than openly asking Kim Dan about the reasons behind his pain, she tried to free him from herself before death could do it instead. She thought, she had the solution to the problem, because she believed she knew why!
Kim Dan internalized this worldview completely. Thus, when he prepares to leave the penthouse, he unknowingly imitates Halmoni’s sacrificial logic almost perfectly. He believes to know the athlete. Like out of sight, out of mind. Joo Jaekyung will stop suffering. (chapter 100) Love becomes synonymous with disappearing for the other person’s sake.
And devastatingly, Joo Jaekyung reproduces the exact same pattern simultaneously. Back on the beach, the champion promised: 
(chapter 95) At first glance, the sentence appears comforting and romantic. Yet retrospectively, the structure of the promise reveals a deeply corrupted blueprint for attachment. First, Jaekyung imagines Kim Dan leaving long before he ever asks him to stay. Even his love remains psychologically organized around future abandonment. Jaekyung’s words directly mirror the childhood promise made by his own mother—who told him she would watch over and support him from far away, leaving him with nothing but an inaccessible back and a heavy, permanent silence. 
(chapter 72) But the ultimate cruelty of the narrative is that his mother’s promise was an absolute lie. 
(chapter 74) She did not watch from afar out of tragic necessity; she remarried, built an entirely new family, and willfully discarded Jaekyung to start a life where he had no place.
Thus, by episode 100, both protagonists express love through identical acts of self-erasure.
Kim Dan believes:
“If I want to help him feeling less guilty, then I should leave.”
Joo Jaekyung believes:
“If I want to protect him, I should let him go. He is getting hurt because of me. I am his jinx.
Neither realizes that they are silently reproducing the same inherited trauma script. And so, while still standing inside the vast uncrossed emptiness of the penthouse entrance, Kim Dan quietly utters: (chapter 100) The sentence acts like a psychological blade directly through Jaekyung’s deepest childhood wound. It confirms the terror haunting him since his mother’s disappearance and rejection: once the transaction ends and usefulness expires, people inevitably walk away. They don’t stay willingly, only because of money.
Then comes the devastating thud. Not the sound of emotional closure, but the sound of total collapse.
The monstrous willpower that carried Joo Jaekyung through brutal title fights, public scrutiny, and lifelong isolation suddenly evaporates beneath the unbearable weight of abandonment. The Emperor collapses on the threshold of his own making, similar to this nightmare: 
(chapter 79) 
(chapter 99) Joo Jaekyung can only collapse under the weight of his immense knowledge and guilt: the hospital director, Baek Junmin, the switched spray (chapter 100). He almost killed a man, just like he did with his “father”.
And if my theory is true, then this is the moment where Kim Dan may finally begin understanding the champion properly for the first time. The terrifying realization finally emerges: beneath the armor, Joo Jaekyung suffers from the very same abandonment terror and low self-esteem that shaped Kim Dan’s own life. Because suddenly, the “Emperor” no longer resembles a distant monster at all.
He resembles a child, and not just a patient. Just like Halmoni. Just like Kim Dan himself.
The lost puppy hidden beneath the armor finally becomes visible. 
(chapter 59) And because Kim Dan still has not crossed the literal threshold , the collapse does not function as an ending, but as a confrontation with reality “sound THUD. (chapter 100) The counterfeit departure shatters completely. For the first time, Kim Dan stands before someone who is entirely incapable of saving himself.
And perhaps that is the true, revolitonary meaning of the scene. (chapter 100) The illusion of the untouchable Emperor cannot survive a collapse, and the myth of the unbleeding Angel cannot withstand a genuine psychological crisis. Episode 100 destroys both false frameworks simultaneously, leaving only two human beings at the entrance, waiting to see if anyone has the courage to reach back across the gap.
A HIDDEN REQUEST
Many readers walk away from this devastating cliffhanger feeling deeply frustrated with Joo Jaekyung. Across the fandom, the same complaint echoes repeatedly: “Why didn’t he just open his mouth?” “Why didn’t he ask Kim Dan to stay like he originally wanted to?”
The bitter irony, however, is that episode 100 already contains the request. I now invite my attentive readers to return carefully to the chapter itself and search for the exact panel where Joo Jaekyung’s true desire surfaces.
Once you find it, the emotional meaning of the entire chapter begins shifting.
Suddenly, episode 100 no longer feels like the story of a man incapable of asking someone to stay, but the story of two people trapped inside a far more complex emotional silence. And perhaps this is why episode 100 feels so haunting and terrible.
In the second part of this essay, we will examine why Joo Jaekyung gradually starts resembling a ghost himself — and how the chapter repeatedly buries his voice beneath misunderstanding, distance, and interruption.
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(chapter 99) He is absent from the ring. There was no sex before the match, no ritual, no “luck,” no physical reassurance. And yet Joo Jaekyung wins faster 
(chapter 99) At first glance, the conclusion seems obvious: the jinx is broken.
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 99) The moderator repeatedly describes him as ruthless. 
(chapter 99) The crowd boos when he leaves the cage. 
(chapter 99) He refuses the interview, 
(chapter 99), ignores the CEO
, (chapter 99), abandons the championship belt behind him, and walks away as though the victory itself had become meaningless.
(chapter 99) We know that the fight was never truly about the belt. We know that the man appearing emotionally empty 
(chapter 99) inside the ring is, in reality, entirely consumed by one person lying unconscious in a hospital room.
(chapter 99), the readers witness emotional clarity.
(chapter 99) That is why episode 99 feels simultaneously triumphant and tragic.
(chapter 99) intended to weaken Joo Jaekyung ultimately destroys the very hesitation that had governed him for years. But the result is terrifying to watch. The emperor wins, yet leaves the octagon looking less like a champion than like a ghost whose heart has already abandoned the arena long before his body does. 
(chapter 15) Dominique lands the opening assault 
(chapter 40) while the athlete tried to avoid his attacks before
(chapter 40), Gabriel initiates the violence 
(chapter 87), and even Baek Junmin, in their first earlier encounter, attempts to establish control first. 
(chapter 50) Joo Jaekyung’s usual fighting style therefore follows a recognizable structure. He absorbs the opponent’s aggression 
(chapter 40), studies it carefully, adapts to it, and only afterward retaliates with devastating precision. 
(chapter 5) The moment is brief, yet Park Namwook immediately notices that something feels fundamentally different. 
Despite training normally, Jaekyung suddenly appears unusually sharp, aggressive, and emotionally accelerated. Namwook asks whether he “did something special,” instinctively recognizing the deviation without understanding its source.
(chapter 75) remarked that Jaekyung performed perfectly during practice but somehow “fell short in important matches.” Park Namwook immediately interpreted this through the logic of sports psychology and asked whether the champion simply got “cold feet.” Episode 99, however, reveals how profoundly the manager and coach misunderstood him. Namwook consistently interprets Joo Jaekyung externally. 
(chapter 99) Before the fight against Baek Junmin, he asks whether Jaekyung wants to warm up, whether he wants to hit the mitts, and whether he has slept enough. He notices that Jaekyung’s body feels “cold to the touch,” yet even then he still assumes that the problem must be physical, routine-based, or performance-related. This misunderstanding reveals something important about Namwook himself. First, it is clear that he is projecting his own indeciveness onto his “pupil”. Besides, he represents the institutional mentality of the gym, a worldview in which performance functions almost like a mechanical equation. Training, preparation, discipline, and focus are supposed to produce victory. To Namwook, hesitation can therefore only mean athletic anxiety or fear of failure. In his mind, the match itself is the most important reality in the room. That is why he keeps trying to solve Jaekyung’s silence through professionalism, routine, and ritual. But what the hyung never truly graps is that Joo Jaekyung is not merely an athlete struggling with nerves. He is a man haunted by memory. The “coldness” in his body was never simple fear of losing. It was emotional numbness. 
(chapter 75) Joo Jaekyung entered fights carrying invisible ghosts with him: the father, violence, hierarchy, humiliation, fear of disrespect, and the expectation of punishment and rejection. The story repeatedly shows how his father enforced authority physically. 
(chapter 72) The elder struck first. 
(chapter 72) Resistance or even “presence” was punished. Submission and later avoidance became a survival mechanism. Even later, fragments of this mentality continued reproducing themselves through figures like Hwang Byungchul. 
(chapter 74) 
(chapter 74) As readers, we gradually realize something deeply unsettling. Joo Jaekyung unconsciously grants older men (Randy Booker, Dominic Hill, Park Namwook and Baek Junmin) the symbolic privilege of initiating violence. This explains why insults such as “baby,” 
(chapter 14) “child,” and “lost puppy” 
(chapter 96) carry so much narrative importance throughout the series. These words do not merely mock him. On the one hand they psychologically reflect his past fighting style 
(chapter 54) Weakness became tied to identity itself. Hesitation became associated with inferiority. Emotional attachment became linked to failure and humiliation. This is why the champion’s mistrust persisted even after becoming the strongest fighter in the ring. Outwardly, Joo Jaekyung became “the Emperor.” 
(chapter 75) Inwardly, however, part of him remained trapped before the father’s judgment, still unconsciously waiting for the older man to strike first. The hesitation therefore was not simple caution. It was fear itself. It was the fear that he might truly be weak. It was the fear that he might truly be inferior. And, above all, it was the fear that he might ultimately become exactly what his father believed him to be: A loser! 
(chapter 73) And this is precisely why episode 99 changes everything. For the first time in the series, Joo Jaekyung stops fighting while carrying the father’s voice inside his mind. He is no longer hearing his voice, but only seeing his lover’s cold body. 
(chapter 99) The assault against Kim Dan forces him into a situation where doubt itself becomes impossible. Suddenly, something matters more than hierarchy, humiliation, fear, or inherited shame. Love overrides the old curse. And once that happens, the subordinate child disappears instantly.
(chapter 91) The “hamster” clearly showed clear signs of PTSD during the restaurant encounter in Chapter 90. 
(chapter 90) The trembling, the nausea, and the paralyzing fear were not just reactions to a “fight,” but to a perpetrator who had physically violated his agency. When the former hospital director attempted to “erase” the assault through further violence (the stabbing) 
(chapter 98), it proved that to the antagonists, Dan’s body was merely a canvas for their malice.
(chapter 99) For Joo Jaekyung, hearing Junmin use a “diminishing” term to describe a man who is currently lying in a hospital bed because of Junmin’s own schemes is the ultimate provocation. It transforms a standard pre-fight taunt into a disgusting trivialization of Dan’s suffering.
(chapter 02) This is why the superstition held so much power over him. Kim Dan unconsciously became transformed into something functional, almost mechanical: a stabilizer, a ritual, a lucky charm. 
(chapter 87) But episode 99 destroys this illusion completely. The moment Baek Junmin says “loverboy,” Joo Jaekyung is forced to confront something openly for the first time. Kim Dan is not luck. Kim Dan is not a ritual. Kim Dan is not a tool. Kim Dan is the person he loves. 
(chapter 49) suddenly becomes extraordinary. A shotgun is a weapon of spread, chaos, and indiscriminate destruction. The antagonist’s psychological attack functions exactly the same way. 
(chapter 96) He fires insults everywhere at once: infantilization, guilt, mockery, emotional humiliation, and social shame. But Joo Jaekyung’s response becomes the complete opposite: a trigger for retaliation. 
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 99), recover 
(chapter 99), or retaliate. 
(chapter 96), a performative tool used to signal emotional superiority and untouchability. Throughout the series, he weaponized his smile to infantilize Jaekyung and degrade Kim Dan 
(chapter 99), positioning himself as the puppet master of the “last laugh.” 
(chapter 87) In Episode 99, Joo Jaekyung deconstructs this theatricality with surgical intent. He doesn’t target the body for a standard knockout; he targets the features of expression: 
(chapter 99) He fights personally. And that is precisely why he becomes so terrifying. The crowd boos because they expected a spectacle governed by sportsmanship, hierarchy, and ritualized violence. Instead, they witness sincerity stripped completely naked. The arena ceases to resemble entertainment and begins resembling execution. 
(chapter 87) Chapter 15 quietly introduces one of the most important structural changes in Jinx: 
(chapter 15) Kim Dan’s transition from a private “function” of the jinx into a visible presence within the audience itself. At first glance, the scene appears insignificant. The arena is immense, saturated with blinding lights, cameras, and noise. Joo Jaekyung stands at the center of a gigantic machinery of spectacle that elevates him into the untouchable figure of “the Emperor.” At this stage, readers are still encouraged to view him primarily as a public myth sustained by victory, fame, and domination.
(chapter 15), the fear of opponents, the attention of cameras, the authority of the CEO, and the symbolism of the championship belt all participated in validating Jaekyung’s existence. The Octagon was not simply a workplace. It was the symbolic center of his identity.
(chapter 40) 
(chapter 87) 
(chapter 87) 
(chapter 40), and transform violence back into entertainment. The spectacle depends on emotional resolution in order to preserve itself. But Joo Jaekyung refuses this transition entirely. He leaves the violence unresolved and emotionally raw. 
(chapter 40), treating him almost as “his” champion to manage, interpret, and direct. 
(chapter 88) But in Episode 99, his praise suddenly feels hesitant and emotionally uncertain. 
(chapter 99) The stutter in “G-good job, Jaekyung!” alongside the visible sweat drop transforms what should have been a triumphant moment into an awkward and deeply uncomfortable interaction.
(chapter 75) The expectations of others, the father’s ghost, the burden of hierarchy, fear of emotional weakness, public image, and the pressure to sustain the Emperor identity all occupied space inside his mind simultaneously. Part of him always remained divided between the immediacy of the present and the weight of the past.
(chapter 99) There is no vanity left inside him, no desire for applause, and no hunger for symbolic recognition. The crowd cannot understand what it is witnessing because Joo Jaekyung is no longer fighting for public validation at all.
(chapter 15) because the audience helped sustain the identity of “the Emperor.” But by Episode 99, the crowd has already lost its emotional authority over him. The boos therefore sound strangely hollow. They belong to a world Joo Jaekyung has already abandoned internally. 
(chapter 99) Before the match begins, both groups of supporters remain visibly divided. Some cheer passionately for Joo Jaekyung 
(chapter 99), while others support Baek Junmin with equal enthusiasm. Yet despite this rivalry, the audience still shares the same emotional framework. They participate in the same ritual structure of sports entertainment: choosing sides, anticipating victory, and emotionally investing themselves in the spectacle. But once Joo Jaekyung abandons the belt and walks away from the Octagon, this division suddenly disappears. 
(chapter 75) But by Episode 99, Joo Jaekyung has already emotionally abandoned that entire system. The boos therefore no longer possess true emotional authority over him. They belong to a world he has already left behind psychologically. 
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 98) That sentence completely recontextualizes everything that follows afterward. Emotionally, Joo Jaekyung had already chosen the hospital over the Octagon. 
(chapter 98) The cage, once his kingdom, suddenly becomes a place of forced exile. He does not want the lights, the crowd, or the spectacle. He wants to remain beside Kim Dan. He wants proximity, silence, and reassurance. But the system surrounding him — the match, the organization, the expectations, and the machinery of professional fighting itself — forces him back into the arena before Kim Dan regains consciousness.
(chapter 97) Throughout the series, Kim Dan lived like a ghost. He erased himself emotionally and physically in order to survive. 
(chapter 57) He exhausted his body for others, suppressed his own emotions, accepted humiliation silently 
(chapter 90), and reduced himself to a functional object rather than a full human being. He moved through life almost invisibly, enduring suffering while abandoning parts of himself in the process.
(chapter 15), intimidation, or performative dominance. Here, however, the emotional repression ruptures openly. Yet paradoxically, the loss of the mask does not weaken his precision. Instead, his years of training allow his body to continue functioning with horrifying efficiency even while his emotional state reaches a breaking point.
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 99), money, and spectacle, yet everything inside it suddenly feels false. The championship belt becomes meaningless. The real “octagon” is the hospital room. This is where Joo Jaekyung finally stops performing.
(chapter 99) The feared separation is no longer tied to humiliation, disgust, disappointment, or emotional abandonment. It is tied to death itself. 
(chapter 34) Pride could function as protection because rejection still belonged to the realm of human choice. But death cannot be negotiated with. Death cannot be emotionally controlled. Death strips away performance, ego, hierarchy, and pride.
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 41) His eyes projected dominance, intimidation, hierarchy, and emotional control, while his words often functioned as weapons protecting him from vulnerability. But in this moment, both are symbolically erased.
(chapter 99) only because Kim Dan cannot answer him. Kim Dan’s unconsciousness temporarily removes the immediate fear of judgment and rejection that had governed Jaekyung’s emotional life for years. His tears no longer emerge from wounded pride or fear of rejection. They emerge from something much more terrifying and much more human: the fear of irreversible loss.
(chapter 99) When the tears finally fall, they carry a symbolic weight that transcends simple grief. Throughout the series, Jaekyung’s body has functioned as a suit of armor—a fortress of hardness, discipline, and emotional immovability. In his world, pain was always displaced; it was never felt, only inflicted upon others through violence or control. He was the man who struck, never the man who collapsed.
(chapter 99) The tears act as a solvent, dissolving the emotional paralysis that has governed him since his childhood. At the same time, they also allow Joo Jaekyung to confront something he had carried unconsciously for years: the guilt, fear, and emotional burden surrounding his father’s death. 
(chapter 74)
(chapter 75) Victory became proof that he was not weak, not broken, not destined to fail the same way. But this also trapped him psychologically inside the father’s shadow. Every fight became tied to survival, worth, and the terror of becoming a “loser.”
(chapter 98), then awakening cannot mean simply opening one’s eyes. It requires something more difficult: the ability to perceive the web itself. 
(chapter 98)
(chapter 98)
(chapter 74) 
(chapter 98) It marks the moment when threads—long invisible—can no longer absorb the force placed upon them. What could once be deferred, explained, or reinterpreted now demands recognition.
(chapter 94) She operates through a series of metonymic substitutions, formulas designed to translate the chaos of precarity into the language of stability. In her system, “Doctor” is synonymous with “Safety”, 
(chapter 65) and “Seoul” is equated with “Opportunity.” 
(chapter 65) This is the pragmatic logic of a survivor who has learned that in a world of scarcity, respectability is the only available armor. She seeks to build a fortress for Kim Dan out of credentials and institutional legitimacy, 
(chapter 47) believing that if the external conditions are sufficiently aligned, the internal suffering can be permanently contained.
(chapter 65), she extends her system of protection beyond herself. Unable to guarantee Kim Dan’s safety directly, she delegates it to another figure she perceives as stable, capable, and situated within a controlled environment. Protection, here, becomes transferable—something that can be secured through the right association. 
(chapter 78)
(chapter 21), his status, and his apparent control over his environment. 
(chapter 98) Having spent the night at the hospital, deprived of rest and confronted with a situation he cannot resolve, he no longer appears as an agent of control, but as someone equally constrained by circumstance.
(chapter 41) The loan—the invisible force structuring their lives—is not addressed directly; it is translated into filial piety.
(chapter 18) 
(chapter 94) This silence is not only strategic; it is protective. To name the debt would be to acknowledge its persistence and the origins of Kim Dan’s stress, and therefore the possibility that it cannot be escaped.
(chapter 90) Here, the logic of debt is not interrupted; it is reframed as asymmetrical power, dependency, and coercion.
(chapter 57) —his identity reduced to a single word: “bum.” The violence here is not physical, but symbolic. It is immediate, collective, and humiliating. Faced with this, Shin Okja intervenes, not by confronting the accusation, but by reframing it. 
(chapter 57) This response establishes a decisive pattern. The external threat is not analyzed or challenged; it is neutralized through emotional substitution. The problem is not located in a social structure—poverty, stigma, exclusion—but dissolved within the private space of care. What cannot be changed is not named. Instead, it is softened.
(chapter 65) Harm is not eliminated; it is reinterpreted. The world remains hostile, but its hostility is rendered bearable through the assurance of relational security. Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why Kim Dan started having eating disorder. 
(chapter 30), through representation 
(chapter 65), through narratives that render events coherent and contained. Within these frames, suffering appears structured, bounded, and ultimately resolvable.
(chapter 94), the statement appears benign, even affectionate. Yet it introduces a subtle displacement. What is presented as admiration becomes a form of reliance. 
(chapter 94) His performance is no longer his alone; it acquires a function beyond itself.
(chapter 94)
(chapter 98) Suffering becomes something structured and resolved within a frame. This mediated perception sustains her belief that reality is ultimately manageable, that danger can be contained within visible boundaries.
(chapter 99) —but the statement appears mechanical, detached from meaning. What follows marks a rupture: 
(chapter 98) The violence does not introduce a new reality; it forces the recognition of a structural condition that had been deferred for years. 
(chapter 91), appears as an isolated figure. In this configuration, the crime can still be contained. It risks being interpreted as the action of a single individual rather than the manifestation of a broader system.
(chapter 90) The structure remains identical; only its direction is reversed. What appears as care in one case becomes blame in the other. Both displace the origin of harm, ensuring that it is never confronted at its source.
(chapter 95) The match is discussed on television, framed by expert panels, transformed into spectacle. Within this mediated space, events are reorganized into narratives that preserve coherence. The system remains visible—but only in a form that neutralizes its contradictions.
(chapter 65) Her philosophy is therefore not only a strategy for survival, but a defense against loss. By constructing a system that promises stability, she attempts to secure his future in her absence.
(chapter 94), she is not offering a casual compliment, but reaffirming a belief that character itself can function as protection. Just as institutions are expected to secure safety externally, moral integrity is imagined to guarantee it internally.
(chapter 11) It does not interrupt the structure that produces it. What the stabbing reveals is not the absence of goodness, but its insufficiency. Moral character does not shield against a system that exceeds it.
(chapter 11) When he sees Kim Dan’s injuries, he does not accept the explanation of an accidental fall. 
(chapter 11) The signs are too clear: the blood, the instability, the surrounding context. The truth is not hidden from him—it is fully accessible. And yet, this recognition produces no transformation.
(chapter 98) The match must continue. The title must be defended. The schedule must be maintained. What should function as a rupture—an event that interrupts the spectacle—is translated into a professional condition. Injury becomes endurance, trauma or pain 
(chapter 52) becomes discipline 
(chapter 52), and even external aggression is reintegrated as part of the fighter’s burden. 
(chapter 96) Violence loses its capacity to expose the system; it becomes one of its operating principles.
(chapter 95) His insistence that the match must proceed is therefore not simply a matter of scheduling or revenue. It is a defense of the very framework through which he understands worth. If the event were to stop because of blood, then the distinction between strength and failure would collapse. 
(chapter 96) Simultaneously, Dan operates under a prior logic of care inherited from Shin Okja, which characterizes love as a practice of self-effacement and the vigilant avoidance of becoming a “burden.”
(chapter 96) This selection is far from neutral; it activates a reflexive inversion in which Dan begins to view his own emotional presence as interference—an element that disrupts the conditions of performance. He ceases to position himself as a partner and instead redefines himself as an obstacle that must be removed. 
(chapter 98) Dan aligns himself with the very system that isolates him. By explicitly stating that he does not want Jaekyung’s performance to be affected, he performs an act of self-erasure, translating his devotion into a demand that reinforces the system’s logic. In doing so, he does not transfer the inherited burden, but reproduces its structure: love becomes obligation, attachment becomes pressure, and care becomes indistinguishable from the demand to endure. Suffering is thus rendered manageable only by being structured into obligation—even at the moment where it should interrupt the system entirely.
(chapter 99) His compliment carries no weight. 
(chapter 99), and reproduce the framework—but he can no longer guarantee its internal acceptance. Joo Jaekyung continues to act within the system, but no longer according to its logic. He becomes capable of fulfilling its demands without believing in them. The result is a hollow compliance: performance without adherence, victory without value.
(chapter 69) Where there is rupture, he restores continuity. In doing so, he prevents the emergence of the question that could destabilize the entire structure: why? 
(chapter 98)
(chapter 98)
(chapter 98) Yosep’s statement intensifies this discomfort. When he tells Jaekyung that Doc Dan would want him to go to the match, he speaks with a certainty that feels almost intrusive. It is as though Kim Dan’s private words have already been absorbed into the group’s logic, detached from their intimate context and repurposed as pressure. Whether Yosep is merely guessing, repeating what he believes Kim Dan would say, or somehow knows more than he should, the effect is the same: Kim Dan’s voice is no longer used to protect his life, but to discipline Jaekyung back into the arena.
(chapter 98) Yosep does not merely reproduce Park Namwook’s logic; he embodies its long-term internalization. Having lived under the same principle—that emotion and relationships must be subordinated to performance—he has come to perceive this translation as self-evident. His statement does not register as an imposition to him, but as a natural extension of care. Yet the consequences of this logic are already visible in his own trajectory. The prioritization of endurance over relational presence has not only shaped his professional conduct, but also his personal life, culminating in the dissolution of his marriage. What appears, in the moment, as pragmatic guidance thus reveals itself as a learned incapacity to recognize when performance has displaced care. 
(chapter 5) It shows that the “endurance over care” logic doesn’t just affect the fighters; it is a virus that destroys every personal relationship it touches. 
(chapter 99) 
(chapter 98) who suffers rather than acts 
(chapter 98), the one who is endangered rather than decisive. He does not yell or attempt to run away while facing his ex-boss. Does this not reduce him to a passive figure, repeatedly placed in situations where others must intervene? 
(chapter 95), and a financial machine. Its fall revealed that the ring was only the visible surface of a much darker structure. 
(chapter 47), and control intersect. This is precisely why figures like Baek Junmin cannot be reduced to mere competitors. His involvement in rigged systems 
(chapter 47) places him within a framework where outcomes are manipulated and where harm—even death—becomes a possible consequence rather than an exception.
and confront the system directly. However, the stabbing reorients that expectation. It places him, instead, in a position structurally analogous to that earlier fracture point 
(chapter 98): not as the agent who exposes the system through action, but as the figure through whom its hidden logic becomes legible. Like the DSE case, where a single event forced observers to reconsider the boundaries between sport, money, and organized crime, Kim Dan’s injury functions as a node of convergence. It connects debts, institutional failure, and coercion into a single, visible rupture.
(chapter 95) It is broadcast worldwide, surrounded by articles, posters, speculation, and commercial pressure, though I doubt that the interview from Baek Junmin was broadcasted worldwide, as he spoke in Korean. The poster itself 
(chapter 97) already exposes the bias of the system: Baek Junmin is elevated like a golden idol, while Joo Jaekyung is portrayed more as a ghost from the past. The media does not simply report the match; it prepares the audience to accept a specific narrative. 
(chapter 95) The question is no longer “Who will win?” but ‘How will Joo Jaekyung’s defeat be made to appear inevitable?’”
(chapter 98) 
(chapter 98) Their words reveal the logic of the organization: the attacker may be pursued, but the event must continue. The absence of MFC representatives at the hospital is therefore not incidental, but symptomatic: it visualizes the system’s refusal of implication. Violence is acknowledged—but only insofar as it does not disrupt the spectacle. In a way, everyone seems to be focused on the fight and nothing else. No one publicly asks the most dangerous question 
(chapter 98): why was Kim Dan targeted on the eve of the match?
(chapter 90) In that earlier confrontation, the director reduced the physical therapist to an object of contempt 
(chapter 90), employing degrading language that revealed not obsession, but dismissal. 
(chapter 98) The act thus exceeds the logic of personal grievance without entirely discarding it.
(chapter 98) Meanwhile, the real cost is paid elsewhere, by bodies that are not supposed to be seen. Kim Dan’s bleeding body becomes the hidden underside of the spectacle. 
(chapter 17), and protected him without receiving public recognition. 
(chapter 60) The assault on Kim Dan in the “private” space of the penthouse hallway 
(chapter 88) The same hidden space became a refuge not only for himself, but for Kim Dan, allowing him to protect the physical therapist’s dignity and safety away from the media’s gaze.
(chapter 37) and the switched spray 
(chapter 49), which unfolded within MFC’s operational sphere. Those events were embedded in the organization’s jurisdiction and thus carried the potential to implicate it directly.
(chapter 98) It converts Jaekyung’s attachment into a site of vulnerability, forcing him into a position where his private life can be used against him.
(chapter 17); this injury imposes limitation. 
(chapter 98) It may become the first visible crack in the façade. The attack is supposed to remain a private tragedy, but if its connection to the match surfaces, then MFC’s credibility collapses. The question will no longer be whether Baek Junmin can defeat Joo Jaekyung, but whether the fight itself was ever clean or it can even take place at all. 
(chapter 87) and a title reclaimed, guilt alters not just performance, but identity. By transforming Kim Dan into a victim, Baek Junmin attempts to implant a belief far more enduring than physical trauma: that proximity to Joo Jaekyung is dangerous. The objective is not simply to destabilize him temporarily, but to reintroduce a form of inner collapse that had once defined the champion, shifting him from a state of self-destructive detachment back into a cycle of shame. 
(chapter 98)
(chapter 74) In earlier encounters, Baek Junmin was unable to obtain the champion’s submission 
(chapter 74) and even to provoke any visible fear from Joo Jaekyung. 
(chapter 74) His self-destructive indifference functioned as a form of armor. A man who places no value on his own survival cannot easily be coerced through threats of violence. He could not be rattled, because there was nothing to lose. Kim Dan changes that equation entirely.
(chapter 74) What he could not escape, however, was responsibility. His past is marked by a formative rupture 
(chapter 74) in which personal achievement coincided with irreversible loss, producing a lasting association between his own success and the suffering of others.
(chapter 98) The goal is to force the champion back into the familiar and agonizing position of the survivor—one who advances while others pay the price in blood. In this configuration, the match itself becomes secondary to the internal consequence: the resurgence of self-blame, the reemergence of guilt, and the deepening of self-loathing. 
(chapter 91) The violence inflicted upon him is designed to echo within the champion, transforming an external assault into an internal fracture. In this sense, the attack operates less as a physical strike than as a mechanism of psychological inscription.
(chapter 73) The result was not empowerment, but internalized blame—a distortion in which ambition became inseparable from shame. 
(chapter 73) He occupies the same structural position—not as a replacement, but as a continuation—forcing Joo Jaekyung to relive a pattern in which success, loss, and guilt converge. 
(chapter 73) This convergence is not incidental. On the very day his public success becomes visible, his private reality collapses into a scene of absolute abjection. Achievement and catastrophe are not merely juxtaposed—they are structurally bound.
(chapter 74) As the sole representative of the athletic world, he becomes the figure through whom the scene attains institutional closure. By accepting the event as it appeared, without interrogating its conditions, he contributes—structurally rather than intentionally—to the stabilization of its official meaning. Boxing and the mob are two separate worlds. The tableau remains intact, not because it is verified, but because it is not questioned. 
(chapter 74), one would expect traces of that affiliation to persist—not necessarily as mourning, but at least as presence. Yet none appear. No representatives, no residual ties, no indication that he belonged to a structure beyond the domestic sphere. This absence does not confirm a break, but it renders continuity uncertain. 
(chapter 72), the later environment appears comparatively stabilized. 
(chapter 73) This shift does not indicate resolution, but it does mark an interruption. 
(chapter 73) The visual emphasis on syringes and narcotics does not introduce new information—it reactivates an earlier image, one already internalized during his childhood. 
(chapter 47) What the narrative reveals instead is a single structure operating on two levels: a visible arena governed by rules, discipline, and public legitimacy, and an invisible layer sustained by coercion, debt, and manipulation. Joo Jaekyung’s father stands at the point where these two layers converge. 
(chapter 74) —coherent, legible, and therefore unquestioned—the present moment resists such closure. The structure that once foreclosed inquiry is no longer fully operative. The “jinx” reveals itself not as fate, but as the effect of an interpretation that had never been interrogated. 
(chapter 95) Why is the mechanism that produces harm repeatedly misidentified as fate, necessity, or personal failure? 
(chapter 74)
(chapter 17), whose violence was never concealed behind the illusion of sport. His weapon was direct, explicit, and inseparable from his words. During that earlier encounter, he articulated a principle that now returns with unexpected clarity: 
(chapter 17) 
(chapter 11). This condition does not remain static; it intensifies. The violence directed at Kim Dan follows a clear trajectory—one that escalates in both form and intimacy. What begins as physical assault quickly extends into spatial violation: trespassing, intrusion into his living space, and the systematic erosion of any boundary that might protect him. From there, it evolves into abduction 
(chapter 16) and coercion 
(chapter 16), culminating in sexual violence. 
(chapter 16)
(chapter 17) Through this echo, the boundary between past and present collapses, as does the distinction between underground coercion and institutionalized spectacle. What once appeared as separate domains—the illegal underworld and the legitimate sport—are revealed as two expressions of a single, continuous structure.
(chapter 98) It emerges from a structure already in motion—one that had previously manifested in a different form. The attempted sexual assault by the hospital director 
(chapter 91) What returns in the stabbing is therefore not a new intrusion, but the intensification of an unresolved structure. 
(chapter 98) —his attempt to sever himself from the act by delegating it and erasing traces—presumes that violence can be isolated and controlled. On the one hand his demand effectively reassigns the burden of protection. The former director, once shielded by institutional authority, is now positioned as the one who must protect another individual from exposure. Yet the very structure he activates exceeds his knowledge. 
(chapter 93); the money laundering operation represents the material reality that must remain hidden behind the ‘fake’ spectacle of the sport.
(chapter 1) He was not merely fired after the incident; he was made professionally untouchable. By damaging his reputation and preventing him from being hired elsewhere, the hospital did not simply remove a troublesome employee—it attempted to silence the one person whose testimony could expose the system that had protected the director.
(chapter 98) It reveals that the “Official Narrative” of the director’s expulsion was a lie of containment. The institution did not heal itself; it simply exported its violence to a darker room, and in Chapter 98, that violence finally found its way back into the light of the hallway.
(chapter 94), is not a neutral description—it is a mode of interpretation. It designates his parents’ death as an event without structure, a rupture that cannot be traced back to conditions or causes. In doing so, it preserves the image of a past that appeared stable: a childhood not yet governed by coercion, obligation, or threat.
(chapter 5) —financial, social, and existential. This transition is not simply temporal, but conceptual. Where accident suggests contingency, debt imposes necessity. One denies causality; the other enforces it.
(chapter 98) cannot be reduced to a purely medical condition. It introduces a different mode of perception—one no longer governed by the interpretive framework that structures his waking life. Sleep does not simply heal; it suspends the language of accident.
(chapter 19) 
(chapter 89) December 26th 
(chapter 97), readers are confronted with a question that seems simple yet resists any easy answer: what exactly has Joo Jaekyung prepared for Kim Dan’s birthday?
(chapter 97), the scene appears easy to decode. It suggests a champion finally ready to step out from behind his walls and express what words have long concealed. But are these gifts the true center of the moment, or only its most visible layer? Is Jaekyung merely celebrating a birthday, or trying to alter the future he and Kim Dan might share?
(chapter 81), hesitation, gesture, and subtle changes in the spaces characters inhabit. A gift may matter less than the moment it is offered. A movement may reveal more than a confession. Even the introduction of something new into a familiar environment can carry emotional weight beyond words.
(chapter 97) Because of this, the flowers express more than attraction alone. They also function as apology and reconciliation. Their romantic symbolism remains, but it is deepened by remorse and by the desire to restore closeness after harm. 
(chapter 97), it would carry a different significance than in the past. It would no longer be defined by the old “jinx” logic of transactional or ritualized sex, but by reconciliation and mutual affection. The act would cease to be mere release and become an expression of true love.
(chapter 31), he explained that he liked flowers because of their scent. 
(chapter 31) The statement seemed simple at the time, almost shyly innocent, yet it reveals something essential about his character. Kim Dan values not spectacle, status, or monetary worth, but the quiet emotional effect an object can have. He does not love flowers because they are expensive. He loves the atmosphere they create, the comfort they bring, and the mood they awaken.
(chapter 55), he wanted to keep the physical therapist’s scent there. 
(chapter 31) He wanted to be considerate of Joo Jaekyung, making sure that the flowers’ fragrance would not bother his “landlord”. 
(chapter 72) He was mocked as dirty, poor, and 
(chapter 72) “smelly.” Odor, in his early life, was not associated with beauty or tenderness, but with shame. Smell became tied to exclusion. 
(chapter 31) Red roses carry stronger meanings: passion, desire, courage, and declared love. The movement from pink to red mirrors the movement of the relationship itself—from undecisive tenderness to chosen intensity. 
(chapter 97)
(chapter 97) Kim Dan also purchases the same kind of cake, but not to celebrate his own birthday. He chooses it to honor Jaekyung, expressing pride, care, and happiness for the champion’s success. 
(chapter 97), which subtly shifts the emotional frame. Rather than reading the setting as romantic spectacle, he may register warmth, celebration, and shared belonging. True to his character, domestic happiness may speak to him more immediately than public codes of romance.
(chapter 97) He questions whether it would be strange to give such presents and admits that he no longer even knows what to do. The uncertainty suggests that he has not fully mastered the symbolic code he is using. He senses that flowers, cake, and rings matter, yet he cannot entirely explain why they feel right or whether they will make him look foolish.
(chapter 97) where others might see romance. Jaekyung reaches for gestures of affection whose wider meanings he only partially understands. Neither man consciously names the moment as a couple’s ritual, yet their actions begin to inhabit that language all the same. Personal feeling leads, while culture quietly gives it form.
(chapter 97) They seem, at last, to be the real gift. Their permanence contrasts with the fragility of roses and cream cake, and their symbolism suits an important personal occasion far more naturally.
(chapter 97) and admits that he has gone back and forth countless times about giving them. 
(chapter 97) While still at the gym, before any flowers or cake appear, Jaekyung tells himself that he has to give Kim Dan something. The wording is important. He does not think about buying something, searching for something, or choosing something later. He speaks as someone who already has a gift in mind and already has it with him.
(chapter 97), he gathers the courage—and the accompanying symbols—needed to finally face Kim Dan. 
(chapter 89) His choices have repeatedly been shaped, directed, or provoked by the will of others rather than emerging freely as his own.
(chapter 96), the one being driven, the one whose safety exists only when Jaekyung is physically present.
(chapter 97) The moment the flowers, cake, and rings are understood as gestures serving other emotional purposes, the possibility of another gift comes sharply into view. If those objects are not the true birthday present, then the narrative invites us to search elsewhere. One panel quietly draws attention to exactly such a possibility: for the first time, a third car appears. 
(chapter 18) By Chapter 32, the parking area has changed noticeably. 
(chapter 32) It is larger, more exclusive, and more carefully structured, resembling a private VIP bay rather than an ordinary shared garage. The environment itself has become more protected. 
(chapter 33) A discreet sedan blends into ordinary traffic in ways a recognizable celebrity vehicle cannot. If registered under Kim Dan’s name, it would create even greater privacy and unpredictability. Protection would no longer depend only on physical strength, but on foresight and anonymity. And if this car was purchased recently, no one would know about its existence. Not even Park Namwook! If Chapter 33 presented movement as secrecy, confusion, and anxious uncertainty 
—where the question was Where are they going, and why? 
(chapter 33) —then Chapter 97 becomes its positive reflection. 
(chapter 89) So often, Kim Dan has been pushed by crisis, debt, or necessity. Here, he would be pushed toward growth. The pressure would no longer come from fear, but from care. The physical therapist could drive his drunk lover back home.
(chapter 47) Jaekyung would not merely be giving him a car. He would be helping him become someone who can go further than before.
(chapter 42) He worked exhausting night shifts and spent money he could barely spare in order to offer something meaningful. The value of the keychain was not only monetary; it represented sacrifice, attention, and a sincere desire to make Joo Jaekyung happy.
(chapter 21), uses public transportation 
(chapter 11), takes taxis 
(chapter 1), or is driven by others. 
(chapter 32) Even mobility itself has often depended on circumstance and on the decisions of other people. 
(chapter 95) A car therefore symbolizes more than comfort: it represents agency, adulthood, and the power to move by his own will. Yet the emotional meaning goes even further. In Chapter 97, the question is no longer only where one goes, but with whom one travels. What was once denied to Kim Dan as independence now returns to him as both freedom and companionship. He is no longer merely carried by another person’s choices; he gains the ability to choose for himself while sharing the road with someone who chooses him in return.
(chapter 5) Yet when he was injured and vulnerable, that support proved conditional and incomplete. 
(chapter 53) 
(chapter 95) He can be guided instead of always guiding, supported instead of always performing. The positions become reversible: each can carry the other when needed.
(chapter 97) If Jaekyung now gives him a car, their gestures beautifully answer one another. Kim Dan once offered the symbolic key to his world; Jaekyung responds by offering the means to navigate a shared one.
(chapter 97) Their bond moves beyond the false alternatives of burden and savior, victim and protector, debtor and benefactor. They begin to inhabit a rarer form of intimacy: mutual sanctuary.
(chapter 96), while another movement unfolds elsewhere. 
(chapter 97) The interview, the damaged poster 
(chapter 96), the hallway encounter, the former director’s sudden presence — none of these incidents need to be isolated events. They can be read as layers of the same design, arranged to poison the climate around Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan through mistrust, guilt, and confusion.
(chapter 79) Danger emerged first, and only then did someone intervene. Joo Jaekyung repeatedly occupied that role. 
(chapter 17) He was the one who could step in, overpower threats, and remove Kim Dan from immediate harm. Kim Dan, by contrast, was usually placed on the other side of that equation: the one exposed, cornered, or in need of help. But rescue and protection are not the same thing.
(chapter 96). On the surface, this action resembles a form of protection: they are stopping him from committing a violent act that would derail his career, effectively “saving” him from himself 
(chapter 96). Yet, this is rescue, not protection. Their intervention is purely physical, reactive, and localized. Crucially, as they physically struggle, Park Namwook and the others remain mentally and verbally passive. 
(chapter 96) They do not challenge the source of the rage or offer a solution. They only seek to manage the immediate visible symptom. While the fist is stopped, the underlying “toxic climate” that allows these provocations to take root is left completely intact. This scene proves that without speech, strategy, and mutual agency, physical restraint—even when well-intentioned—is just temporary damage control. This is exactly the kind of passive, limited intervention that the new paradigm must overcome.
(chapter 72) It answers a crisis once it has already begun. Protection reaches further. 
(chapter 72) It concerns safety before the blow lands, the ability to recognize manipulation 
(chapter 49), to prevent harm from taking root, and to create a space where trust can survive pressure.
(chapter 97) all suggest that the old division may no longer be stable. The familiar roles of protector and protected are beginning to shift.
(chapter 1). In that moment, the world was a predatory space where every threshold was a threat. 
(chapter 90) The memory is important. The director did not lure him with kindness alone. He used his position 
(chapter 1), status, and Kim Dan’s financial desperation to force compliance. Kim Dan needed the job, needed the salary, needed stability. 
(chapter 90) A place where Kim Dan’s options were reduced and his voice cornered. The hallway now echoes that structure. It is dark. It is private. It is detached from witnesses. 
(chapter 90) It was the body remembering before language could fully explain why. 
(chapter 88). In that moment, the champion wasn’t just showing dominance; he was imparting a philosophy of resistance. He taught Dan that ‘technique beats size’ 
(chapter 88) and that even a smaller person can take down a ‘bigger guy’ 
(Chapter 88).
(chapter 27) The object symbolized instability, provocation, loss and a game whose rules could suddenly change. It represented a force that unsettled even the champion. Now another object occupies his hand: 
(chapter 91) the cellphone containing the article about the disgraced former director. 
(chapter 18) because, for Jaekyung, the ‘system’ was never a source of safety. This mistrust is rooted in a childhood where his abuse was an open secret that remained unaddressed 
(chapter 72), on paper he remained a ‘good citizen’ who never faced legal repercussions. Jaekyung learned that authorities protect the appearance of order rather than the victims of violence. This skepticism manifested again at the docks 
(chapter 69), where he chose to ‘save’ Kim Dan through private force rather than wait for legal intervention. Yet those methods repeatedly failed to create real safety. Problems were hidden, postponed, or redirected, or relegated 
(chapter 52) but not resolved. The cellphone introduces another path 
(chapter 96) He only read the headlines. On the surface, this might appear dismissive or indifferent. 
(chapter 96) Yet it can also be understood as an expression of Jeong. Kim Dan’s attention was not captured by the Joker’s performance. His concern went directly to Joo Jaekyung and how such exposure might wound him. He absorbed the central facts — poverty, orphanhood, hardship — but did not grant full authority to the humiliating spectacle built around them. 
(chapter 96)That distinction matters because Baek Junmin likely assumes that public narrative equals truth. If the audience hears something loudly enough, then it becomes reality. But Kim Dan now stands in a different position. He has already met Hwang Byungchul. He has already heard another version of the champion’s past, something the Joker is not expecting. He knows about the father’s abuse, the violence of the home, and the suffering hidden behind Joo Jaekyung’s coldness. 
(chapter 72) This means that if the hallway encounter is designed to reveal a “hidden truth” — like for example that Joo Jaekyung is only a thug, a violent man who attacks doctors 
(chapter 1) and patients 
(chapter 52) ) someone unworthy of trust— the strategy may fail at its most important point. The intended listener is no longer ignorant. Kim Dan can now protect the champion by refusing reduction. He can challenge selective storytelling. Jaekyung is frequently depicted as an avid reader 
(chapter 97), a sign of a deeply disciplined and self-educated mind. This intellectual depth is his most overlooked form of protection. It means he isn’t just a ‘frightened kid’ or a ‘reactive thug’; he is someone who understands the power of information.Besides, he is a huge reader. He can insist that pain has context, that trauma cannot be erased, and that one act of rage does not explain an entire person. In earlier chapters, Joo Jaekyung protected through action (buying clothes, teaching him how to swim). Here, Kim Dan may protect through interpretation and words. 
(chapter 96), and old reactions, as though Joo Jaekyung were still trapped inside the same vulnerabilities and Kim Dan still occupied the same desperate, submissive position. 
(chapter 90)The former director operates similarly, but with a more intimate cruelty. He does not speak to Kim Dan as a person in front of him. He speaks about Kim Dan to Joo Jaekyung, reducing him once again to an object of transaction, greed, and sexual humiliation.
(chapter 90) Kim Dan is called money-hungry, fake, a slut, someone whose affection can be bought. Their apparent happiness is framed as performance, their bond as a financial arrangement, intimacy as deception. In one move, the former director attempts to degrade Kim Dan and poison Joo Jaekyung’s trust at the same time.
(chapter 97) Joo Jaekyung is no longer merely a reactive fighter ruled by rage. He is now capable to reflect on his own behavior.
(chapter 97) Their relationship itself has altered the conditions on which those older scripts depended.
(chapter 97) the official path of movement. But once it closes, that route disappears. What remains is the staircase: the emergency passage, yet also the more secret and ambiguous one. In Jinx, stairways 
(chapter 50) seem to be linked to conspiracy, crime 
(chapter 50), or offstage maneuvering 
(chapter 81) As a result, the gesture remained incomplete and vulnerable to misunderstanding. 
(chapter 45) The material gift was visible, but the feeling behind it stayed hidden. The book changes that structure. 
(chapter 87) Oui, c’est l’amour means in French Yes, this is love. The phrase functions almost like an answer to all the confusion that came before: the uncertainty in the dining room 
(chapter 93), the champion asking what he was feeling, the hesitation around whether kindness was guilt 
(chapter 93), pity, or something else. 
(chapter 93) The title responds clearly where the characters still struggle to do so themselves. Yes—what exists here is love. Another visible word, reste, signifies stay or remain in French. Yet because the final letter appears hidden or incomplete, the word can also be seen through English eyes as rest. 
(chapter 93), delaying genuine encounters, and keeping everything trapped inside the schedule of the match. Everything must wait until after the fight: truth, tenderness, resolution, emotional clarity. Human feeling is subordinated to spectacle.
(chapter 97) Care continued in absence. The relationship was active even when they were apart. This places the gift in sharp contrast with the keychain episode. Back then, Kim Dan selected something through external logic. He entered the dressing room 
(chapter 42), crossing into the champion’s private space 
(chapter 42), and chose according to appearance and assumed usefulness. The gesture was sincere, but still uncertain. It responded to what Joo Jaekyung seemed to need. 
(chapter 42) The book is different because it responds to who he is. 
(chapter 96), sponsors, and the broader world watching the scandal unfold. The damaged poster seems to continue that same logic by materializing contempt in public space. The champion’s image is defaced where others can see it. Reputation is targeted through humiliation.
(chapter 96) However, there exists another possible interpretation. Readers may remember the earlier café scene, where Kim Dan met Choi Gilseok and photographs of that encounter were later sent to Joo Jaekyung. 
(chapter 48) That episode already suggested the presence of an unseen observer—someone in the shadows who understood that images can wound relationships more efficiently than fists can. If those photographs were indeed part of Baek Junmin’s broader method, then the interview and the poster follow the same principle: public content designed for private damage.
(chapter 93) He knows the physical therapist is no passing employee, but someone emotionally significant. That changes everything. If Kim Dan cannot be removed physically, he may be pressured psychologically.
(chapter 96) It reframes loyalty as foolishness. It attempts to poison admiration itself. 
(chapter 97) Someone who remains emotionally invested in the person rather than the image.
(chapter 52) may turn away when public opinion shifts. A sponsor may withdraw when scandal appears. A crowd may cheer one day and mock the next. 
(chapter 36) But Kim Dan’s bond is no longer built on those unstable foundations. He believes in him. 
(chapter 94) For Baek Junmin, lost puppy oozes resent and mockery, but for the physical therapist, the same expression evokes care and protective instincts. 
(Chapter 29) He knows the wounds behind the arrogance. He knows the habits, the loneliness 
(chapter 97), the insomnia, the roughness that conceals care. He has seen the human being hidden beneath the public mask.
(chapter 90) circulating online of the disturbance at the restaurant. 
(chapter 90) In either case, the external image would have looked simple: Joo Jaekyung had been provoked once again. The champion still appeared volatile, reactive, and unchanged.
(chapter 90) It could seem as though the physical therapist was merely restraining, interrupting, or obstructing the champion. A hindrance rather than an ally. 
(chapter 90)
(chapter 90) No outsider could know that the tension began because Kim Dan had left the room in emotional distress. No camera would capture the private wound beneath the public reaction. What looked like friction between the former director and the celebrity was in reality the consequence of care, misunderstanding, and emotional stakes invisible to spectators.
(Chapter 96), headlines 
(chapter 96) Distance, interruption, and broken rhythm shaped their contact. On the physical level, they seemed out of sync.
(chapter 97) The author places them in mirrored and balanced panels, separated in space yet linked in intention. They stand apart physically, but the framing suggests an inner synchrony stronger than distance. What chapter 96 presented as bodily discord, chapter 97 answers with emotional consonance.
(chapter 97) Stay together. And that conclusion may not be reached individually. They are no longer two isolated people reacting alone. They are becoming two people capable of choosing together. That’s what the couple rings symbolize here.
(Chapter 33). The presence of the actor entering the club in slippers and no jacket despite the winter cold suggests a desperate, hurried escape from a world that had become a ‘trap.’ 
(chapter 33) Even then, Jaekyung’s motivation was clear: he followed Kim Dan because he could not bear for him to leave. That secluded house could be the physical ‘home’ Jaekyung had built while waiting for a partner worthy of sharing it.
(chapter 88), resisted differently, and prevented from defining the future. Joo Jaekyung may protect Kim Dan not through another violent intervention, but through truth made public, lawful action, and the refusal to let harm disappear in silence contrary to the past. Kim Dan may protect Joo Jaekyung not through physical force, but through knowledge 
(chapter 48), and the rejection of false narratives designed to reduce him 
(chapter 96) His hesitation, his position, his choice. But this would be too limited. Because episode 96 does not present a single decision. It constructs a field of decisions.
(chapter 96) In this shift, agency is erased. The champion’s path is no longer something he forged, but something that merely happened to him. This reduction is not incidental. It allows Baek Junmin to neutralize what he cannot replicate. If success is luck, then failure requires no explanation. If choice is denied, then responsibility can be displaced.
(chapter 93) to legitimize this narrative—a doctor presented as a voice of institutional truth—is fundamentally fractured. This is no neutral expert, but a fallen figure stripped of professional standing. The choice is not incidental; it reveals a structural flaw. Junmin does not distinguish between genuine authority and the mere veneer of it. And observe how he came to this choice: 
(chapter 93) responsibility can be displaced. But the moment they act, that displacement collapses, and the weight of the compromised authority returns to the one who selected it. He speaks of “wrong choices” while trapped in a cycle of making them.
(chapter 73); not toward a gym aimed at progression, but into a space governed by risk and illegality.
(chapter 96); discipline as obsession; continuity as a series of humiliations.
(chapter 74) the figure who initiated Baek Junmin into a system of exploitation masked as guidance. On the other, Baek Junmin himself attempts to reproduce this exact position. 
(chapter 5) Unlike the underground mentor, his authority is institutional and his position legitimate. For Kim Dan, this distinction is decisive. 
(chapter 7) He perceives in the manager a form of empathy 
(chapter 36), a concern for the athlete’s well-being—a figure capable of managing what he himself cannot. Kim Dan’s trust does not emerge in a vacuum; it is built through a series of interactions that appear, at first glance, to confirm this perception 
(chapter 7). Park Namwook speaks the language of care, addresses him with familiarity, and repeatedly positions himself as someone who values both the fighter and the medical staff. If there was tension between them, he would side with him and not Joo Jaekyung.
(chapter 37) Even when he intervenes critically 
(chapter 50) —questioning his decisions or demanding explanations—these moments are framed, in Kim Dan’s perception, as being in the champion’s best interest rather than as acts of control.
(chapter 27) He assumes coherence where there is only alignment of interests. What appears as consistency in Park Namwook’s behavior is therefore not examined as strategy, but accepted as sincerity.
(chapter 43), reassurances, even moments of apparent protection and respect 
(chapter 53) —acquire disproportionate weight. They become evidence of character rather than elements of a broader pattern. The contradiction between care and control does not disappear; it is simply reinterpreted. And it is precisely this reinterpretation that allows Kim Dan to maintain his belief in the manager’s integrity.
(chapter 95) He remains outside, convinced that the manager will provide what is needed—not only physically, but emotionally. The transparent door does not function as a barrier, but as an illusion of access. He sees, but he does not intervene. But more importantly, he is turning his back to the door, a sign of trust in the coach and manager. 
(chapter 1) in which responsibility dissolves into circumstance.
(chapter 31) Here, if the athlete had followed this recommendation, he would have injured himself badly. What appears as protection recreates distance; what is named as guidance results in isolation.
(chapter 59) He had indeed made a mistake here, but the director of the hospice had defended him. He was not fired after this incident. Hence I come to the following deduction: Kim Dan is about to be confronted not simply with an external threat, but with the realization of his own misrecognition.He trusted the wrong hyung, just like Joo Jaekyung did. 
(chapter 95) Until now, he has no idea about the champion’s losses 
(chapter 54) and the consequences of his “departure” to the seaside. The incident at the health center, the slap at the hospital 
(chapter 54)
(chapter 96) It requires something both have avoided until now: to meet each other’s gaze.
(chapter 1) A towering figure, a champion, a name that carries weight across arenas and screens. Someone whose image is large enough to be printed, displayed, and recognized at a glance. And yet, that same image can be torn. 
(chapter 96) But something has shifted. The image no longer holds in the same way.
(chapter 47) He was introduced as the “underdog,” the one rising unexpectedly, the figure whose ascent could be celebrated. The framing was simple, effective, and, to some extent, transparent. It invited attention, but it also raised suspicion. 
(chapter 47), suggesting that what appeared as spontaneous recognition might in fact be influenced, if not orchestrated. The idea that media coverage could be shaped 
(chapter 47) The system was not yet fully opaque. It could still be glimpsed—but only indirectly, through inconsistencies that were sensed rather than fully articulated.
(90 days), reversible, even later framed as recovery 
(chapter 57) — is now recoded as something definitive. 
(chapter 69) A disqualification operates differently. 
(chapter 69) The panel from chapter 47 
(chapter 47), makes this structure perceptible. The presence of executive figures, the proximity between management and select fighters, and the emphasis on “star quality” reveal a structure in which recognition is not solely determined by performance. 
(chapter 51), the irregularities surrounding the match, the incident with the switched spray—contains elements that could be reexamined. Joo Jaekyung’s public challenge in Paris reactivates these tensions. It signals not only resistance, but the possibility of escalation. By refusing to accept the existing narrative, he reopens questions that the system had already moved to close. 
(chapter 52), notably among the members of King of MMA. This persistence is not merely rhetorical; it reflects a deeper uncertainty regarding the legitimacy of his rise. Within the fighters’ own environment, the outcome of the match is not experienced as a clear victory. Baek Junmin himself acknowledges that he was “this close to winning,” 
(chapter 51) revealing that the tie has not been integrated as a legitimate conclusion. It persists instead as a wound: a result experienced not as confirmation, but as deprivation. In this sense, his current aggression does not only seek promotion; it seeks retrospective compensation.
(chapter 51) So he had not bet on the Shotgun’s victory. 
(chapter 75) The latter’s rise was marked by a visible title, publicly attached to his name and career trajectory. Baek Junmin, by contrast, occupies the position of champion without passing through the same symbolic sequence of recognition. All this time, he was working in the shadow, in the illegal underground fighting. What he inherits institutionally, he does not fully possess symbolically. He may occupy the position of champion, but the conditions of his ascent prevent that position from being fully recognized as legitimate. The label that once signified ascent is never replaced by one that would confirm his dominance. At the same time, his stage name The Shotgun 
(chapter 52) Victory must be seen, fixed, and circulated in order to become real. In this respect, Baek Junmin’s position reveals a fundamental volability. His so-called victory does not produce a defining image. The match that secured his title was neither clearly decisive nor widely broadcast, leaving no shared visual reference through which his dominance could be established. 
(chapter 54) Instead, it continues to rely on the image of Joo Jaekyung. Even in defeat, the latter remains visually central: his body, his injuries, his presence provide the material through which the narrative is articulated. 
(chapter 11) It is a shadow that cannot be struck with a stone. However, this configuration reveals a fundamental weakness: the Giant is not just made of paper; it is rotting from within. If the foundation of the MFC is nourished by money laundering 
(chapter 96) and his true self. Whenever he is forced into restraint—when he must deliver the scripted, empathetic lie—his eyes are firmly shut 
(chapter 71) The photograph of the young fighter with his coach introduces a contradiction that the interview cannot fully absorb. It does not merely suggest discipline or continuity; it attests to a process that precedes and exceeds the narrative imposed upon it. The trajectory it reveals is not incidental, nor dependent on a single relationship, but anchored in duration, training, and transmission.
(chapter 71) , the tournament, the documented progression—these elements introduce points of verification that resist the logic of selective reconstruction. The past is not entirely available for reinterpretation; parts of it remain anchored in events, relations, and figures that can contradict the imposed version. On the other hand, the Champion in Paper has only his recollection as evidence which is based on the narration of others. 
(chapter 72), yes, but she had reasons. The father was violent, the household unstable, and escape could therefore be understood as a form of necessity. In this interpretation, the mother’s departure remained painful, but intelligible. What he failed to ask, however, was the decisive question: if she left to save herself, why did she leave the child behind? Why was the boy not taken with her? For him, absence did not mean abandonment. He still had a positive vision of the mother: caring and selfless. 
(chapter 74) The interview brutalizes this unresolved contradiction by collapsing it into a simpler formula: 
(chapter 72) In doing so, he mistook a visible moment for the whole of the problem. He overlooked the impact on the little boy’s soul. What Baek Junmin reveals—despite his malicious intentions—is that 
(chapter 71), as if it were an exceptional trait now begins to look like the product of a much longer history of humiliation, abandonment, and misrecognition.
(chapter 71) Not once. Despite the years of training, despite the shared history, despite the role he himself believed to have played 
(chapter 74), the champion had cut all contact without explanation. This absence had remained unresolved, almost suspended—something to be accepted, but not truly understood. Hence he became resentful.
(chapter 65) The simplified narrative offered by Baek Junmin aligns too easily with her own history of hardship. But this immediacy has a cost. By recognizing the pain, she risks accepting the distorted framework through which it is presented.
(chapter 65), even if it was never enough. Her role was defined by sacrifice, by the necessity to protect and sustain the “child” she still perceives in him—someone to be fed, guided, and contained rather than allowed to stand fully on his own.
(chapter 7)
(chapter 57), and where being “different” invited mockery and exclusion. What Shin Okja had perceived as a problem of loneliness was also a problem of exposure and humiliation.
(chapter 94), her perception remained structured by Kim Dan. She acknowledged his place beside her grandson, but not the history that had formed him. She had never asked him any question in the end. 
(chapter 96) without confronting what that presence truly meant, because he occupied a role. He was the physical therapist. His gestures, his proximity, his care—all of it could be justified, contained, and, above all, depersonalized.
The addition of the star on the therapist’s uniform is more than a “badge of office”; it is a geometric prophecy. It represents the intertwining of two disparate lives—the red triangle of Jaekyung’s force and the blue triangle of Dan’s empathy. When these two triangles overlap, they create a structure (The Star) that is far more stable than the ‘Paper Giant’ of the MFC. This star is naturally a reference to the star of David. But at the same time, I wanted to avoid any reference to religion as such. The star of David is created by 2 triangles intertwined together. And the moment you accept that each main lead represents one triangle, you realize that both can become the star of David, once they become a team and a couple. 
(chapter 88) The “hamster” is not an isolated symbol. It has been shaped in relation to Joo Jaekyung—through proximity, through tension, through a form of attention that is neither hierarchical nor purely functional. If Kim Dan embodies connection, Joo Jaekyung embodies determination and direction. 
(chapter 94) What emerges between them is not dependency, but a potential alignment. That’s the reason why I believe that contrary to that morning 
(chapter 96), Kim Dan might decide to follow Joo Jaekyung. 
(chapter 96) and as such to be loved, something his mother never did. 
(chapter 88) Without it, action becomes mechanical, external, and ultimately unsustainable. What is done without pleasure cannot reach completion, because it remains detached from the subject who performs it. 
(chapter 95) 
(chapter 96) It is directed outward, against the main lead and others, and depends entirely on their diminishment. It cannot sustain itself. It requires a target. In contrast, Kim Dan is associated with a different form of laughter. 
(chapter 27) The hamster—seemingly insignificant—represents companionship, warmth, and a form of joy that does not depend on hierarchy or recognition.
(chapter 96) It’s the consequence of pain, it belongs to the logic of rupture, of protection through distance, of a structure that resolves tension by separation. To obey would be to repeat the past—to accept absence as the only possible form of resolution. To follow the athlete, however, would be something else entirely. Not obedience to his words, but an understanding of what they conceal. Not submission, but a deliberate alignment: an act of commitment. A decision to remain—not because he is told to, but because he chooses to.
(chapter 30) Let’s not forget that the champion’s “jinx” is linked to the smell, something which Baek Junmin revealed earlier. 
(chapter 96) A hand reaches out to continue what is not yet finished. Kim Dan tries to stop the champion, to maintain the contact, to complete the treatment. 
(chapter 96) The response is immediate: Joo Jaekyung pushes the hand away.
(chapter 95), and the one in the office, where Park Namwook places his hand on the champion’s shoulder and directs him once more toward performance. 
(chapter 95) Both scenes belonged to episode 95, and together they already announced a growing dissonance.
(chapter 95) The other was quieter, grounded in proximity, shared time, and a more fragile sense of presence. 
(chapter 95): in what is missing, in what is delayed, in what no longer coincides. A presence that is no longer acknowledged. 
(chapter 95) A touch that relieves tension, but does not invite the burden to be shared. 
(chapter 95) There is no entourage 
(chapter 36), no managers, no advisors 
(chapter 47), no representatives from the entertainment agency
(chapter 81). And yet, we know this moment matters: the match is approaching, the stakes are high, the narrative around him is already circulating. He only has 10 days left. 
(chapter 95) It becomes even more obvious, if you compare the sparring between the champion and Oh Daehyun 
(chapter 95) and the one in episode 1, where the other partner got injured. 
(chapter 1) He rushed to the injured fighter. But in episode 95, he is invisible. No explanation, no transition. His absence is not emphasized—and yet, it echoes. Especially if we recall episode 46, where he was on the verge of being sent out 
(chapter 46), tasked with gathering information, while Park Namwook positioned himself as the director of Team Black: 
(chapter 46) This detail is not incidental. It establishes a division of roles that is directly connected to a larger structure: the network linking gyms and the MFC. This network is not hypothetical; it is explicitly confirmed in episode 49 
(chapter 49), when Choi Gilseok asks Park Namwook why he was absent from the Seoul managers’ meeting. In other words, coordination between gyms and directors is not occasional—it is organized, expected, and institutionalized.
(chapter 95), yet we know that meetings and exchanges between directors must still be taking place, then the question becomes unavoidable: who represents Team Black within that network at that moment?
(chapter 96) Yosep is the one who calls Joo Jaekyung. He is already informed. More importantly, he is the one who presents the video—the interview in which Baek Junmin openly frames the confrontation.
(chapter 96) Instead, he becomes the relay of a narrative that is already circulating publicly. What he transmits is no longer a report meant to establish truth, but a mediated version of events—one that exposes Joo Jaekyung to an external gaze shaped by others. 
(chapter 95) the author reveals a table full of notes and a pen next to his left hand, while the champion is holding a sheet of paper. This image exposes that Joo Jaekyung was actually engaged in another activity: he was writing notes for his next fight. This implies that he was not oriented toward the act of watching, but toward a process of concentration. So why would he watch a show, when he is developing his game?
(chapter 47), his gaze is sharply defined and functions as a marker of attention 
(chapter 36), recognition, or confrontation. Here, that anchor disappears. The subject is present, but not visually positioned as the origin of perception. 
(chapter 87) 
(chapter 89)
(chapter 13); he intervenes at its margins. He does not construct the framework; he reacts within it. And in doing so, he creates situations in which his presence becomes necessary again —whether by interrupting, redirecting, or framing what is happening. 
(chapter 88) and Shin Okja 
(chapter 94), the champion’s schedule has already shifted: training has been interrupted, attention divided, priorities altered.
(chapter 37) —they allow it to pass through unchecked. 
(chapter 96), but he can clear grasp the situation: an act of vandalism. Then he questions the identity of the perpetrator 
(chapter 96), and turns suspicion toward the fighters present. 
(chapter 96) The scene frames him as someone discovering the vandalism alongside the others.
(chapter 96) Yosep is already inside the gym before the others arrive. He opens the door from the inside. This detail matters. 
(chapter 96) This transformation is not abstract. It is rendered directly in the body of the athlete. His breathing becomes labored, his skin flushed, his eyes reddened—as if the system itself were overheating. The excess cannot circulate; it accumulates.
(chapter 96), he does not raise his voice. 
(chapter 96), maintains composure, and—most importantly— 
(chapter 96) attends to the other’s response before leaving. 
(chapter 96) This detail matters.
(chapter 95) At first glance, its transparency suggests continuity—the inside and the outside remain visually connected. And yet, the author frames the door in a way that emphasizes secrecy, separation rather than openness. The image functions less as a window than as a boundary. 
(chapter 54) He imagined that the celebrity would entrust him the selection. To conclude, Park Namwook’s seat is not random. He represents a hindrance to the fighter’s emancipation, becoming the director of a gym. 
(chapter 95) 
(chapter 95) 
(chapter 95), readers can detect a pattern emerging.
(chapter 95) There is no transition to negotiate, no boundary to maintain. There is only the fight. What appears, from this perspective, as distraction is therefore reinterpreted as failure. What is, in fact, a tension between two spheres is reduced to a flaw within one.
(chapter 95) This clarity signals a mode of perception that has already appeared elsewhere. When he looks at the main lead and calls him “fresh meat” 
(chapter 74), the same logic is at work. The individual is not encountered as a subject, but classified as a function, reduced to a body that can be evaluated and positioned.
(chapter 95) Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan sit side by side, aligned within the same horizontal plane. The asymmetry that structured the office—front versus opposite, speaker versus evaluated—seems to dissolve. The scene suggests proximity, even equality.
(chapter 95) The promise is unilateral. There is no reciprocal formulation, no mirrored commitment, no re-articulation of the bond from the other side. What is offered outward is not taken up and extended; it remains suspended.
(chapter 95) In Kim Dan’s gaze, Joo Jaekyung is not reflected. What appears instead is the lighthouse in the distance. At first glance, this suggests a displacement: the athlete’s presence does not fully register within his field of vision.
(chapter 69) This panel implied that Kim Dan had become his whole world. The comparison exposes that the athlete is still not in the center of his life yet. The lighthouse is not only an external point of orientation. 
(chapter 91) It lingers in the background, acknowledged but never truly treated. And yet, it is not incidental. Insomnia signals the inability to withdraw, to interrupt exposure, to let the body enter a different rhythm. In this sense, it mirrors the function of the lighthouse. A lighthouse remains on—it stabilizes, but it does not allow rest. 
(chapter 96), without reestablishing that line of orientation, the structure collapses. What had been silently assumed—being seen, being turned toward—is no longer confirmed.
(chapter 96) At first glance, this appears simple. But it is not neutral. It is a repetition. Kim Dan tries to reactivate a shared ritual—the one established after the night in Paris.
(chapter 87) A moment where touch, words, and intention aligned. 
(chapter 87) A moment where connection was not abstract, but embodied.
(chapter 87) But in front of the entrance, something is missing. 
— earlier echoed outside the narrative—suggests a moment that has not yet been reached. A point where gesture, intention, and response will finally align.
(chapter 94) When the grandmother suggests that “the three of us can go for a walk,” the gesture shifts from recognition to movement. The proposal is not incidental. It translates what has just been opened into a concrete form.
(chapter 95) Her words are not recalled, her figure is not evoked, her request is not consciously revisited. On the surface, she is absent. And yet, this absence is deceptive.
(chapter 95) —is no longer stable. It is immediately unsettled by another voice, another possibility: 
(chapter 95) And what follows is not an abstract idea. It is an image. Kim Dan appears. 
(chapter 95) This shift is decisive. The grandmother is not present as a figure, but as a function. She has already altered the internal configuration through which Joo Jaekyung perceives himself. Her gesture has been absorbed, displaced, and translated into a new form of questioning.
(chapter 94) It has introduced a new axis—one that opposes performance to relation, victory to something else that remains undefined, but essential. But this axis is not yet resolved. It exists as a fracture. And from this point onward, absence no longer signifies emptiness. It signifies transformation. What is no longer visible has already begun to act.
(chapter 117) I am quite certain that many were outraged and disgusted by the scholar’s smooching. First of all, why did the learned sir do it? One might say that it is related to the petition which is in Yoon Seungho’s possession. 
(chapter 117) The learned sir was tasked by the mysterious noble wearing a purple hanbok to retrieve the document. I would like to call my avid readers’ attention that we never saw the man introducing himself to the former teacher. He could have definitely impersonated someone, for this trick has often been used in this story. Anyway, in exchange for this favor, Jung In-Hun got promised a high position in the government. 
(chapter 115) Thus Jung In-Hun has only one option left. He needs to utilize a spy and traitor in order to get the document. Because Jung In-Hun has known the painter since his childhood, it is not surprising that he chose to approach Baek Na-Kyum. As you can imagine, episode 117 is a new version of episode 24 
(chapter 24), where the angry learned sir asked the naive artist to spy on their benefactor and episode 35 
(chapter 35). In the latter, the scholar gave the same task to the main lead, but his attitude was totally different. He was acting like a gentle and concerned man, hence he stroke Baek Na-Kyum’s head and cheek. 
(chapter 35) He had two reasons for that. First, the painter was still recovering from his long illness. So he couldn’t act so coldy, for his selfishness and heartlessness would have become obvious. The learned sir had to justify his egoism and indifference. During his illness, he had at no moment visited him, but he had his reasons. 
(chapter 35) He hoped for the painter’s understanding. All this because he needed the low-born more than ever. He had not renounced on discovering Yoon Seungho’s weakness yet. However, in season 1, he failed to achieve his goal, because after the night spent with the main lead, Baek Na-Kyum refused to divulge any information about the meeting between the host and his brother Yoon Seungwon. 
(chapter 38) 
(chapter 117) Hence we should consider the scholar’s kiss as the kiss of Judas. The latter, known as the Betrayal of Christ, is the act with which Judas identified Jesus to the multitude with swords and clubs who had come from the chief priests and elders of the people to arrest him. Thus I am expecting an arrest of the painter in the future. Since he is the love interest of Yoon Seungho, he has once again become the target of the next plot.
(Chapter 118) While he had faked his pity and empathy for the painter, when the latter was exposed to gangrape 
(chapter 118), the ending of the episode is showing him as a monster, acting like Min and his friends. 
(chapter 115) However, this is impossible. Time is the proof for the lord’s innocence. 7 days have already passed since Yoon Seungho’s violent outburst in front of the learned sir’s home. Don’t forget that it took Yoon Seungho 6 days to regain consciousness. 
(chapter 116) And the manhwaphiles saw that the painter spent the night with his lover after their conversation at the pavilion. 
(chapter 117) This means that Na-Kyum’s visit to the gibang could only take place after that night. That’s how I came to the conclusion that the meeting took place after 1 week (6 days+ 1 night). However, the swollen cheek will easily vanish within one week contrary to the stabbing. 
(chapter 117) Therefore after the release of episode 117, I had imagined that the wound from the learned sir was faked with the rouge from the noonas. Yet in episode 118, I detected the busted lip which can not be faked. The scratch is the evidence that the wound is real. Jung In-Hun knew too well that he couldn’t frame his previous sponsor for this. Hence he avoided to reply to the painter’s interrogation. 
(chapter 118) Furthermore, his cheek was perfectly fine, when he left his home. 
(Chapter 117) This must have happened on his way to the gibang or in the gibang itself! So who would do this? Yoon Chang-Hyeon? The noble with the purple hanbok? I will answer to this question further below.
(chapter 57) It is less pronounced, for Jung In-hun only met this mysterious man once contrary to the main lead. Even Baek Na-Kyum noticed the transformation, hence he got scared. 
(Chapter 118) He couldn’t recognize his former teacher. The learned sir had become like a violent beast. But why would he be so frantic and hopeless that he became violent in his gestures and words? It is because he had been threatened again. The wounded lip and cheek are the evidences that he has been coerced to convince the painter that the latter should return to his side. 
(Chapter 118) His grabbing and yelling ooze urgency. One might think that the mysterious aristocrat with the purple hanbok is behind this, for he once voiced a menace towards the villain. 
(chapter 117) However, observe that in their meeting, Jung In-Hun spoke about affection 
(Chapter 118) and this doesn’t belong to this man’s world (power, lineage, yin/yang, education). And it is the same for Yoon Chang-Hyeon. The latter embodies hatred and rejection for sodomy! 
(chapter 86) He was even willing to kill his own son, moreover he threatened Yoon Seungho to have the painter killed. 
(chapter 116) That’s how I deduced that the person behind this intervention is actually longing and hoping for love from Yoon Seungho. Thus he requested from the learned sir to take back the painter.
(chapter 94), then the kiss 
(chapter 95) The artist had kissed the main lead for two reasons. He desired to convey the sincerity of his attachment and to prove that this was real. Yoon Seungho shouldn’t imagine that this was just an illusion, as he often questioned his own senses and sanity. In the gibang, the learned sir changed the chronology: first the smooching, then the confession. Why? It is because he thought that the painter still loved him, when Baek Na-Kyum showed concern for him. 
(Chapter 118) Due to his arrogance and vanity (the negative aspects of self-love), he jumped to the conclusion that nothing had changed. The painter seemed to be still naive. 
(chapter 118) Hence his surrogate father smirked. The irony is that there exist different kind of love: friendship, family… At the beginning, the artist was still viewing Jung In-Hun as a friend. Thus he got worried about his wounds. Yet observe that he had no intention to bid farewell to the former teacher. 
(Chapter 118) He is no longer considering him as a father figure, let alone a close one. Imagine the irony! In reality, the low-born was announcing to his former role model that he was abandoning him. Yes, it is the positive reflection of the scene in the library: 
(chapter 40) Jung In-Hun’s words came back to bite him. He is the one acting like a prostitute, like a man consumed by lust! 
(chapter 118) Baek Na-Kyum, as the mirror of truth, is not only confronting the scholar with his bigotry and dishonesty, but also the mastermind behind this encounter. This explicates why the learned sir spoke about love: 
(chapter 118) This was the same for Yoon Seungho. The sexual abuser had only been obsessed with his own reflection and desires to the point that he never paid attention to his sex partner’s gaze… the loss of light in the gaze, the absence of tears … Besides, there was no agreement, everything was based on coercion and Kim knows that. That’s the reason why Jung In-Hun had tears in his eyes! It is because the main lead used to cry as well… asking for his pity and mercy. Since the scholar never cried before, I believe that the latter had asked to shed some tears in order to move the heart of the counterpart. 
(chapter 118) Baek Na-Kyum was never his young protégé, only his student. Why? It is he never protected him, he just consoled him! 
(chapter 94) However, like I had already outlined, Yoon Seungho was offered “protection” in exchange for his favors. That’s how the main lead got rewarded with the mansion and the proprieties. But now, Yoon Seungho is willing to give up on everything for Baek Na-Kyum. 
(Chapter 11) Back then, the painter had the burst lip and the glowing cheek too. 
(Chapter 11) He had protected Jung In-Hun, when the latter was suspected of ruining the painting. And how had Yoon Seungho acted in that scene? He had spoken like a powerful person, like a ruler! 
(Chapter 11) As you all know, my theory is that behind the name “lord Song” is hiding the king. But since I made a connection between episode 11 and 118, I deduce that Jung In-Hun has been put in the same position than the painter. His karma… for feigning ignorance and letting Baek Na-Kyum take the fall. He is paying for his wrongdoings all at once (11, 29, 35, 40). And what had Yoon Seungho said to his future lover? 
(Chapter 11) 
(Chapter 11) Yes, so far no one has been talking or thinking about the king as someone involved in the main lead’s suffering. Yet, I would like to outline that the gibang belongs to the state and as such to the king. Only a rich and influential person could hire the kisaengs for the day 
(chapter 118) Not even “lord Song” or lord Haseon from episode 107 couldn’t pull such a trick. 
(Chapter 107) He had announced his visit and the kisaengs had to gather next to the gate. There, the mysterious man selected only one woman. 
(Chapter 107) However, in episode 118, the kisaeng talking to Baek Na-Kyum expressed that there were different parties. Each kisaeng was participating in a different festivity (“It’s not usually this busy”). She would have mentioned it, if there was a huge party in the gibang. But there is another clue for the king’s intervention: the pipe is no longer visible in the noonas’ room 
(chapter 96: it’s on the table), just like there are now two mirrors and the number of rouge has also increased. 
(Chapter 118) Finally, this painting, Hokjado, is actually mocking the monarch. 
(chapter 105) The tiger in the painting usually represents the ruling elite, and its ridiculous expression is a satirical commentary on their behavior. He is here portrayed as a lazy man focused on smoking and pondering. 
(chapter 116) It signifies that this panel is a new version of this scene: 
(chapter 103) And what is the common denominator between these two scenes? Both protagonists rejected the help from the staff, especially from butler Kim. 
(chapter 102) He was already giving up on everything, even his own life, if he had not the artist by his side. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why killing the painter is not the first option for the pedophile. 
(chapter 118) He is implying that he should take the exam and get a high position…. he should go to Hanyang. That way, he would cross the path of the ruler. Striking is that the young man employed the expression “bondage”. Is this a reference to BDSM? For me, Yoon Seungwon is helping the invisible hand which explains why he is betraying his father again. 
(chapter 118) He did it in the past, and he is repeating his actions. He shows no regret or remorse for the past 
(chapter 118) except his promise: 
(chapter 118) In fact, he blamed his brother and his father for everything, even Yoon Seungho’s way of life. His concern and affection for Yoon Seungho are totally superficial and trivial in the end. Why didn’t he ask about his wounds? He met him the next day after he regained consciousness. 
(chapter 118) It was, as if they had two different fathers. Note that despite the father’s cruel action, the young noble still calls Yoon Chang-Hyeon as “father”. To conclude, Yoon Seungwon doesn’t consider the protagonist as his brother despite his words. The younger master is the reflection of the learned sir, the one faking “love, honesty and concern” for a close one, whereas in reality these persons are more worried about their own future and comfort. 
(chapter 37) 
(chapter 107), whereas the main lead had decided to protect his family despite their betrayal and abandonment. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Yoon Seungwon has no interest to expose the petition contrary to the past. 
(chapter 118) It is because he knows the truth now. Nevertheless, he is choosing to keep his brother in the dark, for this revelation would make him appear as a liar. He definitely feels bound by secrecy. 
(chapter 76) 
(chapter 118) For this winning hand, Yoon Seungho had to suffer a martyrdom. Hence it becomes comprehensible why he is envisaging to renounce on everything. 
(chapter 117) He was only happy by the painter’s side. 
(chapter 25) On the other hand, I had made this connection, even before the release of episode 118. Why? It is because through deductions, I had already come to the conclusion that this was a stolen kiss. 
(chapter 24), then he hugged him 
(chapter 29). While the first embrace took place in a deserted area (close to the port), the second hug was witnessed by many people. It was in the open, moreover the so-called “hero” had jumped off the horse during the parade which could only catch the attention from the crowd. 
(chapter 111) Between the two embraces, we shouldn’t overlook the caresses on the head and cheeks which I mentioned above. As you can imagine, the kiss of Jung In-Hun represents the climax of their intimacy. Striking is that the affectionate gestures always took place in public (street twice and the courtyard). 
(chapter 34) His kiss is displaying his hypocrisy, which the artist could only feel. Hence he didn’t reciprocate the smooching. His lips remained immobile. 
(chapter 19) Therefore I come to the conclusion that this kiss is like the embrace from episode 29: fake! It is because the learned sir needs him! This statement stands in opposition to the protagonist’s love confession. 
(chapter 117) His presence and affection represent the biggest treasure for Yoon Seungho. Baek Na-Kyum is his only source of joy and happiness. However, for the learned sir, the “need” has a different foundation. He can lose everything, if the painter doesn’t choose him. And if he were successful, he would even get power! As you can sense, for the learned sir, Baek Na-Kyum is just a tool, while for the Black Knight, he is a necessity! Without him, he has no reason to continue living. Jung In-Hun is desperate to survive, while Yoon Seungho is pushed to give up on his suicidal thoughts THANKS TO His father: 
(chapter 111) His gaze oozed not only arrogance, but also blindness. Imagine that he was smirking in front of the painter while looking at the wealthy aristocrat. It was, as though he thought that the artist wouldn’t notice his disdain and vanity. He imagined that the artist was still naive and ignorant like in season 1. This explains why the painter expressed his disapproval about the learned sir with a smile later: 
(chapter 111) 
(chapter 111), for Baek Na-Kyum is always accompanied by his soul mate (chapter 40, 45, 74-75, 91-97, 104-105) In addition, people would have recognized him due to the previous parade and noticed his interaction with the artist. Nevertheless, the villain needed privacy, as he was inciting the main lead to commit a wrongdoing: betrayal towards Yoon Seungho. So their meeting could never be mere coincidence and happen in the open. Their reunion had to be planned properly and in secrecy. Thus it signifies that it had to happen behind the dark knight’s back. I would even add that the beloved couple needed to be separated! And now, you comprehend why their meeting had to take place in the gibang! In season 3 and 4, the kisaeng house is the place where the main leads got separated from each other, though the intervention from the noonas didn’t always work like expected. 
– first separation, for Yoon Seungho had to take care of the noona Heena 
Here we witnessed his return. However, the kisaengs badmouthed Yoon Seungho 
(chapter 93) Their attempt was to create a riff between the couple.
(chapter 94), when the painter thought that they would go to the pond. 
(chapter 94) Why didn’t the artist follow his partner right away? 
(chapter 96) She intervened too late, and her brother didn’t notice her presence.
(chapter 99) Yet, we never saw the face carrying the light 
(chapter 97) But it can not be the officers, for they were carrying torches. 
(chapter 97) Yet, the light in the previous image is nearer to the ground than to the top of the door. Besides, carrying a torch in a building made of paper and wood is quite dangerous. For me, the person approaching their suite could only lift such a candle light 
(chapter 19) We have two possibilities left: the kisaeng Heena or the butler. 
(chapter 98) This confrontation didn’t occur in episode 93, for the kisaeng’s back was illuminated by the candle light, whereas the room was darker in episode 93. 
(chapter 93) The light was standing further away from her in this picture. Hence I deduce that the lord must have revisited the kisaeng during that night. Because she was not holding the candle light, I can only deduce that the person witnessing this second conversation was butler Kim! Besides, we have another allusion to him through the reflection of episode 19 and the first Wedding night. Then later, Heena tried to convince her brother to leave Yoon Seungho’s side 
(chapter 97) by blaming him for Jung In-Hun’s murder, but her intervention failed. In reality, the separation could only take place thanks to the intervention of Yoon Seungho’s staff. In episode 97, the servants were definitely manipulating the painter with this corpse 
(chapter 97), whereas in episode 98, the maids had to play their role as well: badmouthing their master 
(chapter 98). He was a cruel and violent lord!
(chapter 105: Heena was strong enough to follow her brother to the door, and this quite quickly, for she witnessed their argument), the other cast doubts in Baek Na-Kyum 
(chapter 109) and finally the third one lied to her donsaeng. 
(chapter 105) Yoon Seungho had mentioned that he would return to the kisaeng house in order to fetch his lover. 
(chapter 105) Yoon Seungho was just thinking of a momentary separation, whereas the kisaeng implied that his departure was definitive. This shows that they had hidden the main lead’s true intention from the painter. This was no coincidence in my eyes. 
(chapter 118) However, I believe that Jung In-Hun was lying, for his visit could be leaked to the owner of the mansion. He has no idea that no one is siding with the main lead. But by saying this, he was covering up for the gibang, and as such Heena. She was definitely her source of information. 
(chapter 68) Why? It is because she has always loved the learned sir and projected her own thoughts and emotions onto the artist. In my eyes, this encounter is to prove the kisaeng wrong, to confront her with reality and her prejudices. What caught my attention is that each time, the painter couldn’t meet Heena, her absence was justified that she was serving a nobleman outside. 
(chapter 93) 
(chapter 118) Notice that the painter is already thinking that she was not expecting him. Yet, it is clear that he would come to the kisaeng house, for Yoon Seungho had been invited by his brother. The invitation had already been proceeded the day before: 
(chapter 117) So if something were to happen, Heena could feign ignorance and as such innocence. After their last argument, the noble has learnt that he shouldn’t keep his distance from the artist and he should confide to him, hence he talked about elopment at the pavilion. 
(chapter 25) 
(chapter 77) in a previous analysis. However, I will only focus on the comparison between episode 19 and 118, for both represent a first kiss!
(chapter 118) And remember that in episode 19, the painter had caught the main lead by surprise, when he entered the room. 
(chapter 25) Thus I am deducing that this scene 
(chapter 96), this means that he has finally accepted his homosexuality. Consequently, the sexual abuser could have the impression that he just needs to remove the painter from the main lead’s side and that’s it. He can replace the artist… impersonation once again! 
(chapter 96) These notions are all reflected in the confrontation between Baek Na-Kyum and Jung In-Hun: 
(chapter 105) Hence I came to the conclusion that the stolen kiss from Jung In-Hun represents a farewell, though the learned sir has no idea of this signification. Thus I thought of Judas’ kiss. The learned sir failed to achieve his goal exactly like in season 1. Even back then, he was distressed and under pressure, for he had recognized that he needed to pass the civil service examination first. 
(chapter 115) In my opinion, he will be framed for the incident in the shaman’s house. 
(chapter 115) Hence I have the impression that this stolen kiss will have huge repercussions not only for the learned sir, but also for Heena. 
(chapter 118) Observe that the painter wanted to ignore the words from the fake teacher. So he could have a change of heart and report the incident to the authorities. He doesn’t know that his lover killed Black Heart and his friends. The learned sir was admitting that his nightmare had truly happened. 
(chapter 83) 
(chapter 88) From my point of view, the schemers are projecting their own thoughts and emotions on Yoon Seungho. Moreover I am quite certain that they have already calculated the possibility of a rejection. The painter’s so-called wrongdoings from season 1 (chapter 11: the ruined painting, chapter 29: desertion) and season 2 (chapter 61: the desertion) were all perceived as rejections. If he is caught with Jung In-Hun alone, they anticipate that Yoon Seungho will react like his father. He won’t be able to discern the truth. Baek Na-Kyum is not faithful and is now tainted. Or even worse… Yoon Seungho might commit a crime. This thought seems to contradict my previous statement: Jung In-Hun is acting on the pedophile’s order. Nonetheless, my theory is that there exist two conspiracies:
(chapter 107) 
(chapter 115) 
(chapter 115: flower pattern and no sleeve, the beard covers the jaw ) 
(chapter 117: no pattern, the lips are covered by the moustasch, straight) 
(chapter 117) There are simply too many divergences to say that it is a mistake from the author. This would actually mean that she is quite sloppy. Furthermore, I decided to rely on my eyes and not a belief: there is only one lord Song. Thus you comprehend why I never called the man talking to Jung In-Hun lord Song. So if my theory is true, this would signify that these men represent the previous gang “dogs of Joseon”, the older version of this: 
(chapter 101) And No-Name was treated exactly like Lee Jihwa, but he got framed and sentenced. Finally, I would like to point out that there were 3 black men involved in the first fake sexual education: 
(chapter 86) A coincidence? I don’t believe this. Besides, I discovered a relevant detail about petition and government. 
(chapter 107) Far away from the protagonist, he had to rely on his helping hands and his advisors. He trusted their words. Finally, we have the vision from Lee Jihwa: 
(chapter 101) That’s the moment when the truth will come to light. Someone will get angry, because he got confronted with the painful reality: he was a man consumed by lust, he was selfish, cruel, abusive, ignorant, coward, and even naive. He was never destined to be the protagonist’s life companion. 
(chapter 116) He was in truth Yoon Seungho‘s bird of misfortune. He is responsible for his misery. Before, I had assumed that right from the start, the pedophile could have been eyeing the pure teenager, but it is also possible that everything happened due to back luck. Each person made a mistake, out of fear they lied to cover up for their wrongdoing and chose Yoon Seungho as scapegoat. Father Lee tried to hide his son’s sodomy out of shame. If so, the king became responsible, for he never investigate the matter properly. It was his role as ruler to give justice and he failed terribly. In fact, he benefitted from this. Hence it is normal that he is now judged as the main culprit for Yoon Seungho‘s misery. Contrary to Baek NA-Kyum, the main lead can not act, as if nothing had happened.
, I detected a strong connection between chapter 10 and 117. The common denominator was the pavilion. The learned sir brought the artist under the pretense for a walk in order to seek seclusion and privacy. While he faked his worries 
(chapter 10), he wanted the painter to stop working for Yoon Seungho. He desired him to leave the propriety, for he saw Baek Na-Kyum as a rival. Unlike the painter, the scholar had not been invited to join the party the night before. Hence he had to portray Yoon Seungho in such a bad light! 
(chapter 10) Back then, the vain and stupid man thought that the main lead had truly liked his poem. Thus he imagined that he could get the attention from the protagonist, once he got rid of his competitor.
(chapter 10) This is not surprising that the author employed a panel from that chapter. 
(chapter 118) Back then, the artist had not detected the manipulation. Hence he had protected his former teacher, when the latter got accused of ruining the painting. This confession from the scholar 
(chapter 10) stands in opposition to Yoon Seungho’s. The latter has no expectation from the artist. 
(chapter 117) The latter is the one deciding about the lord’s fate. But why did he go to the pavilion with the painter? For privacy and intimacy! They needed to discuss the matter about the brother and the petition, a dangerous matter. 
(chapter 117) Here, the painter was acting as the main lead’s right-hand and advisor. He is taking over the butler’s function. He was full of concern for his loved one asking him to postpone the reunion (chapter 117) And the moment the artist voiced his fears 
(chapter 117), the noble suggested to leave everything behind. 
(chapter 117) And what would people see from far away? 2 people showing closeness and attachment, they wouldn’t expect a desertion, an abandonment!! And now you comprehend why Yoon Chang-Hyeon was sitting in the pavilion in town 
(chapter 116) It was, as if he was trying to get an alibi for his crime: he had planned to have his son killed, but it didn’t happen as expected. Thus he was forced to join his son. 
(chapter 116) This means that he was exposing his crime to people in town. Furthermore, he even confessed his hatred for his own son. He yelled this: 
(chapter 116) Yet, by stating this, he was admitting that he was violating social norms (Confucianism). That’s how I realized that the pavilion is not only the place where Yoon Seungho’s emancipation takes place, it is also the symbol for betrayal and abandonment. 
(chapter 101) Finally, a long time ago, I had developed the theory that the pavilion was the place where Yoon Seungho got abused. 
It is the same pavilion than Yoon Chang-Hyeon’s. This means that the couple will purify this place. At some point, the lord and his knight will come to admire the pond with the lotus flowers: 
(chapter 117) Byeonduck let us see a glimpse of their future.
(chapter 109) He discovers that Baek Na-Kyum has already prepared himself, as he is longing for him. 
(chapter 109) He never expected such a reaction. The reason why the evolution of Painter Of The Night is flowing at a snail’s pace is that season 4 is now focusing more on the past. First, Byeonduck needs to divulge the lord’s suffering and its causes. And this can only happen, if memories are brought up. Hence in episode 109, the painter’s memories stood in the center. Why? It is because he is trying to understand why his loved one is now avoiding him. Thus he is remembering what happened just before. The readers are actually put in the same situation than the artist. On the one hand, the focus on recollection is a method to unveil how the young master was turned into a “sodomite and pariah”, for the painter is going through the same experience than his partner. In episode 109, he is isolated from his “lover” and as such from his family, for he has now maids by his side. The latter are supposed to be his new “family”. On the other hand it helps the manhwaphiles to anticipate the future main events,. as the progression is in slow motion. This means, the Webtoonist left all the elements in the previous seasons in order to decode the past, the present and the future. That way, the manhwalovers are capable to unveil the mystery. Besides, the author has to answer all the questions the beholders had while reading the previous seasons, like this one: 
(chapter 27) What book was the scholar looking for? Up to now, we have no clue, though I had developed the following theory: Jung In-Hun was a Christian and had a bible. 
(chapter 109) How did this happen? One might reply that the book fell from the shelf, when the painter kissed his lover. 
(chapter 109) This interpretation can be easily refuted, for the noble stood next to the shelf and not in front of it. Besides, the counter stands on the noble’s left, while the ledger was on his right. However, one detail caught my notice, the beholder can not see Yoon Seungho’s hands!! That’s how I realized that the book came from the protagonist! He had carried it hidden in his right sleeve. This explicates why the book stands on the right side. 
(chapter 109) Besides, contrary to the previous panel, now the lord’s hand is visible! This is no coincidence. But if he was hiding the copy from Baek Na-Kyum, I deduce that it is related to the painter. But there is another person associated to manuscripts in this story, Jung In-Hun!! But what have the low-born and the scholar in common then? The erotic publications! 
(chapter 94) However, Yoon Seungho is suspecting that the learned sir was behind the trick in the shaman’s house due to the glasses Min had in his hand before dying. 
(chapter 102) Hence he doesn’t want to break the main lead’s heart and mind. In other words, the main lead is determined to hide the past from Baek Na-Kyum so that the latter’s memory and agony won’t be triggered. The book could definitely remind the low-born of all the events which led to the massacre in the shaman’s shrine. Besides, I feel that the noble must feel guilty as well. If only he hadn’t admired the erotic publications which led to Baek Na-Kyum’s stay in his mansion. Consequently, I think that the noble is also in agony because of the work.
However, there exist two reasons why I came to this deduction. I detected similarities with the first encounter between Yoon Seungho and his nemesis in the scholar’s home and the painter’s kisses. 
(chapter 6) Both were standing in front of the cupboard, while the learned sir suddenly took away the copy and closed it to put it back on the cupboard. This made the protagonist smirk. Due to the characters’ reaction, 
(chapter 6), I had assumed that the protagonist was making fun of Jung In-Hun. He had played a prank on the host, especially after asking about his occupation. I have always wondered about the content of the volume. Therefore I had developed the idea that this could be the bible. However, it was clear that the book was not for children which is visible due to the writing. 
(chapter 6) In fact, the learned sir should have the manual Thousand Character Classic (Chinese: 千字文; pinyin: Qiānzì Wén), also known as the Thousand Character Text.
(chapter 6) In reality, he wasn’t teaching them reading and writing at all. But Yoon Seungho had feigned ignorance with this discovery. With his indifference and praises, the false teacher had the impression that he was supporting his attitude. This scene is relevant, because the learned sir had lied to the protagonist about the painter’s education. 
(chapter 6) This means that the book represents the evidence of learned sir’s betrayal and abandonment. He is responsible for his illiteracy. To conclude, this scene contains the following elements: a prank, a lie, a confession which was triggered by a book that Yoon Seungho had picked up by chance. But wait… it could be the book from the scholar’s home! 
(chapter 06) But this image can be used to refute this theory. How so? It is because this book has a title, hence there is a white rectangle!! However, take a closer look at the copy on the floor. 
(chapter 50) Finally, I would like the readers to keep in mind that they could only see the content of the books 
(chapter 1), but they never got the chance to see the cover. 
(chapter 6) He proposed him to sit and have a cup of tea to divert his attention from the books on the cupboard. Besides, I would like to outline the huge contrast between these two scenes. The scholar needed the assistance of the prestigious family Yoon, while the protagonist replied this to his loved one: 
(chapter 109) Needed versus not necessary! 
(chapter 6) He was here very vague (“bizarre and vulgar”), he spoke of a scolding, but never of rejection and abandonment!! This is important, because Yoon Seungho also experienced something similar in the shed: 
(chapter 77) Back then, the butler’s words must have wounded him terribly, he must have felt dirty either. Under this new perspective, it becomes comprehensible why I came to this conclusion that the book is related to the learned sir and to the erotic publication. But this doesn’t end here. In my eyes, episode 109 clearly outlined the importance of the library in the protagonists’ life. This is the place where both main leads got betrayed and abandoned. 
(chapter 40) When the scholar wounded the artist with his words, he implied that the artist was responsible for his lack of education. With the idiom “I thought, you could be educated”, he gave the impression that he had put some effort, but due to the artist’s disposition, he had failed. We had another scene where the learned sir was blaming Baek Na-Kyum. 
(chapter 70) He would fall asleep instead of studying. And who knows about the learned sir’s hypocrisy? Yoon Seungho!! That’s the reason why the goddess Byeonduck let them meet in the library. It is to heal their wounds. In this room, Yoon Seungho’s suffering started and later, the painter got betrayed by his former teacher, someone whom he viewed as his “family and mentor”. 
When Yoon Seungho got kissed by the painter 
(chapter 109), he got surprised, and he had the same gaze and facial expression than the one during the First wedding night 
(chapter 42), though here the artist kissed his companion twice! 
(chapter 49) And what had these scenes in common? Paintings and the artist’s confession. And now, you comprehend how I made the connection between the book and painting. 
(chapter 19) This scene could only break the artist’s heart, because he was reminded of the learned sir’s reaction: his rejection. The latter got angry and jealous that the low-born would be treated as someone special. Furthermore, Jung In-Hun had only got the noble’s sponsorship thanks to Baek Na-Kyum and not thanks to his own talent! In verity, the learned sir had been the tool to submit Baek Na-Kyum. Shortly after the exposition, the protagonist went to the study. There he got confused for Jung In-Hun, hence he received a wonderful confession 
(chapter 19) before getting kissed and embraced! 
(chapter 42) Yet, the artist was unable to explain the situation, for he had internalized Jung In-Hun’s criticism. 
(chapter 42) So we could say that the yangban tried to get a confession from the painter, but he failed. Hence they had just sex. The artist’s heartbreak was the reason why he never got to confess the truth! And what had happened in the study after the painter kissed the main lead? The lord saw the inauguration illustration and got jealous of Jung In-Hun 
(chapter 48), and the painting had exposed the main lead’s uneasiness and pain. The drawing was not refined, barely finished. 
(chapter 47) The behavior from the painter and the new painting had not only wounded the main lead, but also pushed the lord to discover why the artist was behaving this way. After the rough sex session, the artist had made a confession: he was dropping the rules he had been raised. 
(chapter 49) He was admitting his sexual orientation and his own pleasure, but he still kept his distance from Yoon Seungho. Why? It is because he was reminded of the learned sir’s fake embrace and betrayal. 
(chapter 49) 
(chapter 94) which incited the artist to recall his childhood. That’s how he came to unveil his past and confess his love to the noble! 
(chapter 19), the parties after the separation 
(chapter 51), his visit in the gibang and his tricks 
(chapter 96). In episode 109, the painter confused Yoon Seungho’s shadow with Black Heart’s. In his nightmare, he was brought back to the shaman’s house and the lord’s smile was similar to Min’s.
(chapter 109) 
(chapter 99) Besides, let’s not forget that during that terrible night, Black Heart never touched the artist himself, as if he didn’t want to touch a trinket sullied by another man”. On Twitter, the author revealed that Min would help Yoon Seungho. Through this comparison, the beholder can confirm this. Thanks to Black Heart, the couple got closer in the end. 
(chapter 19), the spying on the painter – though here it appears like a good thing – 
(chapter 41), the stones in the rice 
(chapter 47) and the words from the maid who repeated the noona’s principle 
(chapter 109). She was acting, as if Baek Na-Kyum was not present, but in reality she knew that he could listen to her. How do I know this? The evidence are the sweets on the windowsill. 
(chapter 109) They never encouraged the tormented boy to eat the sweets!! Besides, this episode confirmed my interpretation about the complicity of the maids. As their role is to comfort Baek Na-Kyum, the readers should question themselves about their absence. 
(chapter 108) Why is the room dark? Where are the maids during that night, as they are supposed to sleep next to the painter? 
(chapter 109) The absence of the light is truly noticeable, an indicator that they are not in the bedchamber. Moreover, I had detected that the brown bed cover symbolizes the meddling of Kim. [For more read the essay 
(chapter 87) Sincerity versus fake concern; own choice versus manipulation, happiness versus sadness. Under this perspective, you comprehend why I view the maids as traitors. But since season 1, the women were never punished. Hence they felt free to badmouth Yoon Seungho or Baek Na-Kyum. So while he was preparing himself, where were the ladies-in-waiting? I doubt, the painter would give them orders. The painter was left alone on purpose. Finally, the manhwalovers should question why there is a bottle of oil in the bedchamber. So far, Yoon Seungho utilized it once 
(chapter 20) and it was during the first Wedding Night. And oil comes from the kitchen, the lord had fetched it from that room!! Naturally, there is an exception, and it is the kiss in the gibang. Yet, here the kisaengs had just replaced the maids. In other words, they had played a role in the confession. And this explains why the noona’s words are superposed with the maids. 
(chapter 109) That’s the reason why I am convinced that the book is strongly connected to the learned sir. In my eyes, it can only be the erotic publication of sodomy!! Why? It is because it represents the painter’s biggest wound. It explains his low self-esteem. Consequently, I am expecting the appearance of this panel: 
(tweet) The teacher told him “It’s dirty”, and wounded him the most with his gaze full of hatred, the symbol of rejection! Note that in episode 109, the painter always focused on the mouth and not the gaze, 
(chapter 109) 
(chapter 109) 
(chapter 25) Moreover, during that night, we have the same elements: a painting, a confession, sex, a book that the scholar was looking for. From my point of view, in chapter 34, Baek Na-Kyum only recalled the beating from Jung In-Hun. 
(chapter 34) But like I wrote above, this place is also where Yoon Seungho got betrayed and in my opinion, the schemers are planning to use this place to ruin the protagonist!!
(chapter 106) 
(chapter 106) And if Yoon Seungho gets caught having sex with the painter and he has an erotic publication of sodomy, he can be framed for the murder of lord Shin and the other nobles. He will be guilty by association. Thus I deduce that the schemers needed the father to report him to the authorities. 
(chapter 107) That way, he can prove that his son is a depraved lunatic and regain the control of the mansion. 
(chapter 86) And if they are not caught having sex, the schemers are hoping for an argument between the two main leads because of the separation. This was planned to incite Baek Na-Kyum to resent his lover, to accuse him of „abandonment and betrayal“, a new version of this scene. 
(Chapter 105) As you can see, the staff had encouraged the lord to keep his distance from his companion on purpose, to create a misunderstanding… they used the painter’s anxieties. Why? That way, the artist would be more inclined to betray his lover, if the latter was in difficulty. He could put the blame on him. In my opinion, the book was planted there on purpose. Remember how the artist denied that he was the author of the erotic publications. 
(Chapter 1) Besides, there is no doubt that the father refuses to take any responsibility in his son’s suffering. And now, you comprehend why this copy was put on the lord’s desk. He was supposed to be the owner of the erotic book and even the author! I am suspecting that he was accused of the „same crime“ in the past. Then this observation raises the following question. Which erotic publication is it? The original 
(chapter 1) or the copy
(chapter 1) This would stand in opposition to the scholar’s rejection (dirty), as the artist was just the helping hand. Besides, there is no ambiguity that Yoon Seungho blames himself due to the erotic book. If he had not brought the painter to his mansion, none of this would have happened. But the painter’s confession would make him realize that his misery started long before he met Yoon Seungho. And how did the puppetmaster come up with such an idea? From my point of view, this plan was inspired by the learned sir. 
(chapter 27) Notice that he has a drop of sweat on his face, a sign that the book is really important and could be even dangerous. He was diminishing the value. In the past, I had already pointed out that the learned sir had planned to backstab the main lead and denunciate him to the authorities (my first theory was the bible or the the absence of jesa in the mansion). But the erotic publications of sodomy would fit the profile.
(chapter 37) Back then, he imagined that the man hidden under the green hanbok was the learned sir, but he was mistaken. Both father and son believes to have seen the relative’s sodomy. Besides, the brother mentioned letters and these usually are written on a desk and as such in the library. Yes, this night should trigger the lord’s memory… his brother’s betrayal and abandonment. 
I am still waiting for this picture. Yoon Seungwon had definitely tattled on his brother out of jealousy in the past. Don’t forget this flashbulb. 
(chapter 55) Finally, Heena could serve as a witness, for she did hear their conversation in the annex and saw their intercourse: 
(chapter 84) Finally, the childhood paintings could be used as an evidence. But what about the book in the library? Both could decide to burn it…
the burned letter
the shrine
(chapter 109) Note that there is no rejection from the lord, just surprise and shock. Besides, in the kisaeng house, the artist’s confession had led the main lead to confess as well. 
(tweet), the latter can only come to the conclusion that the scholar would have no problem to hurt Baek Na-Kyum and even get revenge on the artist, for he received the favors from the protagonist. Yoon Seungho would no longer feel obliged to respect Heena’s wish, for her words wouldn’t reflect reality. 
(chapter 105) And it was Yoon Seungho’s luck, when the book fell from his sleeve! 
(chapter 27) The goddess Byeonduck is on their side. But the problem is that the readers have the impression that both are followed by misfortune due to their misery. The reality is that they are both victims of manipulations and tricks. That’s their tragedy. But by repeating that the two figures are “birds of misfortune”, the accomplices are trying to deny their own involvement and as such responsibility. The maids are the perfect example. They blame Baek Na-Kyum for his own illness. He eats like a bird and he would hide his illness. 
(chapter 108) To sum up, he was responsible for his own suffering, for he was in denial and the maids could do nothing to help. But the lord can see the truth, when he touches his lover’s butt. 
(chapter 109) He lost weight in such a short time. And their presence by Baek Na-Kyum’s side was supposed to help him. They were responsible for his well-being, but the women never realized it.
of season 4 for this essay, though my focus is the past, and more precisely Yoon Seungho’s suffering. It is because the darkness surrounding the protagonist not only refers to his tragic youth, but also it reflects the situation of the manhwalovers. The latter are still in the dark concerning his torment. His terrible secrets have not been totally unveiled. So far, the author allowed the readers to see glimpses of his past, like f. ex. the gangrape or the suicide of his mother. But these were just small pieces of the puzzle, thus it is still impossible to have a complete picture of his martyrdom. There are many reasons for this. The main victim never testified about his suffering, he refused to open up to Baek Na-Kyum. 
(chapter 84) Then many witnesses vanished 
(chapter 86) or the ones alive preferred telling lies in order to hide their own wrongdoings or are simply in denial about their own culpability. Finally, the victim, the perpetrators and accomplices had no idea about the whole truth. They only know or knew certain facts, because many of them were deceived as well. What exactly happened to Yoon Seungho? How could this take place, though he belonged to one of the most powerful noble families? Now, you are probably expecting that I will give you answers to all these questions, and recreate the past. But I have to admit that it is not possible, for I don’t know the whole chronology. Consequently, I added “shadowy” in the title. To conclude, my real intention is more to offer new pieces from the riddle than create a whole new “story”. The main source for this new insight is the painter’s fate which is a reflection from the noble’s past and torment. This means that Byeonduck left traces in season 1, 2 and 3! That’s how I discovered that he had been abandoned and betrayed by everyone, kidnapped, treated as a male kisaeng, robbed, abused, raped and even gangraped at least twice, tortured and finally drugged! But like mentioned above, it is difficult to give the proper order and the persons truly involved in the crimes. On the other hand, what I can guarantee is that Yoon Seungho’s nightmare is linked to conspiracies. I came to this conclusion, because if you compare all the seasons, you will detect the presence of plots. There exists at least 3 main plots in each season, though there definitely exist more. The conspiracies are all connected to incidents. 
(chapter 9), so that the latter visited Lee Jihwa to arouse his jealousy. It was to push him to commit a crime so that Baek Na-Kyum would be removed from the main lead’s side. As you can see, there were 3 people involved, though the readers only saw the result. 
(chapter 12) They had the impression that the red-haired master had acted on his own. However, he had been manipulated, incited to commit a crime. But my point is not to diminish his wrongdoing, rather to expose the involvement of the schemers. Hence at the end of season 1, the author unveiled their true role and as such their identities. 
(chapter 43) However, observe that when Lee Jihwa went to the pavilion, the noble with the mole had other guests. 2 nobles left the place, as they refused to participate in a murder. 
(chapter 43) Funny is that they are now witnesses of Min’s crime. This can have repercussions in season 4. Black Heart had been the one who had suggested the assassination to Lee Jihwa. And the aristocrats were still there, when he had made this proposition. 
(chapter 91) and the servants 
(chapter 8) Thus in season 2, he came to this resolution: 
(chapter 56) He had planned to rape him before having him eliminated. This shows his inner conflict. From my point of view, the painter’s death is connected to the incident in the gibang. 
(chapter 1) Baek Na-Kyum was a witness of Min’s wrongdoing, just like the painter was a witness and victim of his crimes in the shrine. (chapter 99) One thing is sure: Min was full of greed and jealousy. He was determined to harm and ruin Yoon Seungho. Hence I come to the deduction that the real target of the conspiracy in the past was Yoon Chang-Hyeon. And his son was used against him. 
(chapter 16) This doesn’t look like a crime. However, it is one! It was done on purpose, to separate the couple. Someone had intervened in order to interrupt this session, and as such someone had been spying on them. Deok-Jae only revealed his spying activity from chapter 16 in season 2: 
(chapter 53) Yet, the one opening the door had been Kim. This gesture can be considered as trespassing and invasion of privacy, the new version of this scene. 
(chapter 17) that Yoon Seungho would come to perceive the painter as a man consumed by lust. He imagined that he would caught them fooling around. As you can see, this ruckus was also a plot, though it doesn’t look like one. Why would the maids gossip in the courtyard? 
(chapter 18) From my point of view, the valet expected that the lord would fear people’s gaze and a scandal. Thus he would send away the painter to protect his “reputation”, but the opposite happened. Under this perspective, the manhwalovers can grasp why it is difficult to calculate accurately the number of plots and accomplices. Besides, some were naïve pawns, others not. And since I examined the first season more closely, it is necessary to analyze the vanishing of Jung In-Hun. His disappearance is strongly intertwined with Yoon Seungho’s secret. How so? The learned sir was determined to find the lord’s vulnerability and as such secret. 
(chapter 88) Thus many readers jumped to the conclusion that the learned sir had already switched sides and was plotting against the main lead. They had his following words in their mind: 
(chapter 29) Thus many concluded that he had participated in the prank, faking his death. On the other hand, the manhwalovers believed to have seen Heena’s death! 
(chapter 99) However, observe that we never saw her corpse. She was still alive in this panel. I had already pointed out that her murder was actually faked. Her mouth was not covered, hence she could have screamed, but she remained silent (blank speech bubble). Secondly, she never moved her legs… contrary to Yoon Seungho’s behavior in the gibang. 
(chapter 68) That’s the reason why I came to the conclusion that 
(chapter 86) However, in reality, he was relying on the king’s help and intervention. And this confession to the “fake shaman” represents the learned sir’s karma. He had asked the painter to act like a spy 
on his face and interrogated Jung In-Hun. 
(chapter 29) The girl was there to create a certain closeness. He was acting like Kim, asking why! But the stupid and arrogant learned sir thought that because the man was a commoner, he was ignorant and could be manipulated like the painter! 
(chapter 29) He thought that the low-born would buy his lie here… but in my eyes, it was the opposite. He had already perceived the learned sir’s true nature. But he acted, as if he was agreeing. In other words, the scholar fell into his own trap. He envisioned that the man was “powerless”, but he overlooked his connections. The manhwalovers can see the contradiction, for he had approached the man due to his connections! .As you can see, I am more than ever convinced that the scholar has long been murdered. He was betrayed, exactly like he had planned to abandon Yoon Seungho! The pedophile must have heard from the servant about Jung’s plan, as he had confided it to the worker!! 
(chapter 37) But this doesn’t end here. 
(chapter 37) Yoon Chang-Hyeon was portrayed as a traitor! The “fake servant” implied with his statement that there was a conspiracy, and the patriarch was involved. But in exchange to save his own skin, he had tattled on the others! He was trying to insinuate that if Jung In-Hun interacted more with the Yoons, his reputation could get tainted. He could get suspected of “treason” too, or he could get betrayed too. While the man met the learned sir during the day, the brother went to the villa in a hurry during the night. 
(chapter 36) Hence he chose a different approach: filial duty. And the brother’s observation could only corroborate the pedophile’s perception. The scholar was Yoon Seungho’s lover, but he was also a backstabber. But let’s return our attention to the “mysterious lord Song”‘s statement: Yoon Chang-Hyeon is a denunciator, not a man of honor. 
(Chapter 67) Lee Jihwa had not only been denunciated, but he had been confronted by his friend! And the traitor was right by his side. As you can see, chapter 67 was a reflection from episode 37!! These two episodes have another common denominator: the betrayer had made the following suggestion. 
(chapter 67) In exchange for his “survival”, he should help Black Heart and allow him to act on his behalf. This was the new plan. That’s how he started impersonating Lee Jihwa. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that in the past, the impersonation must have happened, but it took place in the beginning. Secondly, I am assuming that a traitor must have suggested to Yoon Chang-Hyeon to leave the mansion and abandon his son behind! 
(chapter 27) And who is it? For me, it is Kim acting on the pedophile’s behalf. Striking is that in episode 27, the learned sir escaped death thanks to the intervention of the old bearded domestic and Baek Na-Kyum. Thus it came to my mind that the pedophile could even claim that he had eliminated the learned sir, because Yoon Seungho had attempted himself to kill him in the past. He had acted on his behalf. And what do have all these chapters have in common? SPYING and tattling! In episode 27, the servant unveiled a part of the past, 
(chapter 27) Someone had tattled on the Yoons in the past, but the patriarch was turned into the traitor himself which the young main lead came to believe. Thus Yoon Seungho could say this to his father: 
(chapter 86) However, I am suspecting that this is not true, someone else tattled on the powerful family and made a false accusation! As you can imagine, I am inclined to think that father Lee must have been behind this! Why? It is because he can no longer do it! Thus in season 3, he approached the patriarch Yoon. 
(chapter 82) If the lord Seungho had truly committed a crime, he should have reported it to the authorities. The stupid Yoon Chang-Hyeon never wondered why the elder Lee visited him during the night and asked for his assistance. Furthermore, the elder Lee had been allowed to enter the bedchamber and see the huge drawing which could have been perceived as a sign of treason. He was eyeing at the throne. 
(chapter 82) Note that the aristocrat mentioned “punishment” in this context. So maybe, he denunciated the patriarch so that the whole family would get punished. Father Lee was definitely played in this scene, hence I believe that someone had already anticipated his reactions. He would seek revenge. But this doesn’t end here. I had connected “rash departure” to “treason and spying”. And now, observe what Yoon Seungho said to his butler 
(chapter 50) He had sent Jung In-Hun away in order to get rid of him! However, because of the expression “I thought”, I am quite certain that this idea had been suggested to him by the valet! I would like to underline that in this episode, the valet was acting as a tattler! 
(chapter 50) But in order to hide his own crime, he portrayed it as a rumor (It may not be accurate”). This truly underlines the butler’s MO. He used information and turned it as gossips to hide his spying activities. The shadow… Simultaneously, he turned gossips into a verity!! This is no coincidence that in season 3, the same method was employed. Yoon Seungho was supposed to have murdered the scholar and Deok-Jae! My avid readers can sense the leitmotiv in all these episodes. RUMORS are turned into a reality, and as such a CRIME! Even here… 
(chapter 37)
(chapter 86) But since our beloved man started living in the bedchamber, this became a reality. That’s the other reason why Yoon Seungho was encouraged to live in debauchery and not to take the civil service examination. But this only occurred, the moment the lord returned living in the mansion and not before!! Secondly, I realized that this statement about Yoon Chang-Hyeon will become a reality for the “fake servant” himself. 
(chapter 94) This means that he acted as a traitor, tattling on his own relative. Finally, observe that once confronted with brutal reality, the father did run away. 
(chapter 87) The white bearded man’s words became a reality. However, since the fake servant, the mysterious lord Song, judges the elder master Yoon as a troublemaker and hypocrite, there is no ambiguity that the elder master Yoon will get into trouble. Since he did it in the past, he can only get suspected in the present. 
(chapter 44) He had given the ruined painting to his father, putting the blame on his brother, well aware that the latter would get angry. He was observing his father’s reaction. 
(chapter 44) Yet, there is a difference to the past. Here, he had been fooled! He truly believed that this was his brother’s doing, whereas in truth the butler had been the one who had fooled him. 
(chapter 38) And this is important, because when the letter was given to the brother, Jung In-Hun witnessed the wrongdoing from the butler!! 
(chapter 38) And now, you know why the learned sir had to die!! He had caught the valet in the act. He had betrayed Yoon Seungho, though he didn’t realize it. The learned sir tried to discover the content of the letter, and as such was prying on his sponsor’s weakness.
(chapter 38) Hence I come to the conclusion that KIM played a huge role in the learned sir’s death as well. I would even say that he was the one who pushed the others to have the scholar and the painter killed. Both knew about the butler’s tricks without realizing his significance. 
(chapter 37) Hence I deduce that as the story progressed, the role of the butler started changing. Now, I see him as a the main plotter, while all the others are now his pawns. We could say that the valet has gradually followed the pedophile’s path. However, there is no ambiguity that it was not the same in the past! 
(chapter 83) How can he be the same than the one from episode 37? The change of his hair color could be explained by a huge shock. But this is rather thin as a justification. Besides, now I am more inclined to think that these are two different persons, and that the main culprit is the one from episode 37. Why? It is because he smoked and utilized the same expression: “strange”. 
(chapter 37) An idiom that Yoon Seungho constantly utilized: chapter 16, chapter 21
, chapter 50, chapter 71 
(chapter 71). This means that he couldn’t understand, for he has a different way of thinking. This outlines his narrow-mindedness and his tendency to plan everything. He doesn’t like surprises. 
(chapter 69) Hence I started wondering if the mysterious man with the beard was not impersonating someone, for example “lord Song” and in reality he was just a merchant. Why merchant? It is related to the shungas and the hanboks. The king can not be involved in trading directly. However, this is what Yoon Seungho told to the learned sir: 
(chapter 22) Nevertheless, the main lead could have never been involved in commerce, for he lived as a prisoner for many years. And this is what was said about the ruler: 
(chapter 76) He is not so wealthy. How come? Yoon Seungho’s fortune must have a different origin. 
(chapter 102) Min had never predicted that the young master would run to his friend and denunciate him to Yoon Seungho. However, since Black Heart had employed the assistance of servants
(chapter 95) 
(chapter 98), No-Name, the doctor with the drugs and butler Kim, this signifies that behind the name Lee Jihwa stand many people! As you can see, the name “lord Song” doesn’t refer to one person, but many… My theory is that No-Name is the true owner of the title, but that’s how he ended up losing his home and his name! That’s the reason why I believe that in this image 
(chapter 71) 
chapter 87) and 
episode 92. The schemers in the past had definitely played with illusions and tricks. Thus I am expecting that it is now the pedophile’s turn to get fooled.
(chapter 82)
(chapter 36) Here, the painter was forced to take an aphrodisiac under the pretense of his health. This action was repeated in season 2 
(chapter 54) and 3. 
(chapter 100) The nobles made him smoke opium or drink the aphrodisiac. The purpose of such drugs is to obtain the painter’s submission and control his mind and reactions. Striking is that each time, the perpetrators were “punished”. Kim was insulted and his plan didn’t work out. 
(chapter 37) As for the young lords, they were evicted like commoners and later the others were even killed. As you can see, each time the poison was employed, there was a retaliation. 
(chapter 47) 
(chapter 47) If the painter had not eaten with the lord, the latter would have never noticed the incident. However, he believed the maids’ words. 
(chapter 47) Hence he never investigated the matter. But this prank represented a serious issue. This could have been judged as an attempt against the owner of the mansion. 
(chapter 47) And now look at this panel: 
(chapter 83) Yoon Seungho had refused to take the drug! The bowl reminded me of the one from chapter 47! Finally, the butler had tried to give his master the drug in season 3 
(chapter 77), but the latter had again rejected it and this twice.
(chapter 77) Kim calls the drug “medicinal tea”, truly an euphemism. It is also possible that the real target of the poisoning was Yoon Seungho, but since he was protected by the gods, someone ended up taking the “drug”. Because he was wearing a purple hanbok, the investigator mistook his identity, a royal member. Hence the Yoons were suspected of treason. Don’t forget that during this party, there was a kisaeng by their side. 
(chapter 56), he came to adopt this title in order to hide his identity and actions. Byeonduck explained in her notes that Baek Na-Kyum had no idea about Min’s name. And this is the same for Yoon Seungho. The pedophile could continue hiding behind “lord Song”, as the latter was blamed for everything. The pedophile could divert attention from his own tricks. That’s the reason why he would never write any letter to Yoon Seungho under this name. This means that at the end, the main culprit, the king, will be perceived as the main responsible for Yoon Seungho’s torment, similar to Min’s situation, just before got killed. Though many other people were involved, Yoon Seungho was able to judge the joker’s actions correctly, he was the main mastermind behind the plots. This explicates why the gods made Yoon Seungho forget the old bearded men’s face. 
(chapter 44) This was a blessing in disguise. The moment the main lead faces the king, Yoon Seungho will be able perceive the truth. The king was behind his torment, and the butler had been his helping hand all along, the professional spy planted in his family. However, I don’t think that the monarch will admit his crimes and apologize for his wrongdoings. He will need a scapegoat, and this can only be the butler, the only one who knows the truth! 
, 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. 
(chapter1) Or was she simply the noona? 
(chapter 70) At some point, I came to realize that Heena had acted as the surrogate mother, but she had never clearly stated that she was the painter’s mother. In other words, his adoption was never official, which explicates why the main lead only considered her as his older sister. This is important, because her ambiguous status can not only generate problems, but also expose her betrayal towards Baek Na-Kyum. Note that in chapter 97, the noona treated Baek Na-Kyum as her “child” who wouldn’t listen to her 
(Chapter 97), while later she implied that they were both equal, for she employed the personal pronoun “us”. 
(chapter 97) On the other hand, she used her seniority as status, when she called him a fool 
(Chapter 97). He lacked experiences, hence he was too naïve, and as such he would trust the protagonist too easily. As you can see, Heena herself had an ambiguous relationship with her brother. Nonetheless, thanks to chapter 93, I got finally a definitive answer about Heena’s true identity. She is indeed the head-kisaeng in the gibang. I realized that the protagonists were invited to stay in Heena’s personal room. 
(Chapter 93) That’s the reason why the seat of the host was empty and why Yoon Seungho didn’t go there. He would have violated social norms, if he had taken her seat.. Moreover, by doing so, he would have revealed that he knew where the woman was. This could have raised questions.
(Chapter 68) was in truth a huge window. How do I know this? First, in this scene, the scholar was hiding a huge white vase with red flowers. Hence I deduced that Jung In-Hun couldn’t have walked through that “gate”, it was just a window. Therefore I assumed that he had to walk past the flowers, either turn to the right or the left. Secondly, observe that next to the lantern on the left, there is a small white panel. This means that the view from chapter 93 was more or less taken from the right corner. Moreover, in the next chapter, Heena is not facing this “window”, when she is in the same building. 
(Chapter 69) This time, the white vase with the flowers is standing in front of a wall. That’s how I deduced that Heena had to turn to the left in order to go to the hallway. 
(chapter 69) On the other hand, another element caught my notice. In this picture, 
(chapter 93) which is not present in episode 69. 
(chapter 93) Since I came to the conclusion that Heena’s private room was on the right side after the corner, I deduce that the kisaeng was not on her way to her room. Moreover, since the kisaeng was walking in the same direction than the scholar, I can only conclude that Heena was actually approaching the entrance of the building. I believe that she had turned around, but the author didn’t reveal this. One might argue that it is possible that in chapter 68, the learned sir could have gone with the painter to Heena’s bedroom. However, back then the latter was not the head-kisaeng. We know this due to the presence of a kisaeng standing right behind Yoon Chang-Hyeon during the sexual lesson. 
(chapter 70) That’s how I realized that Byeonduck had deceived the readers once again. She was playing with reflections. That’s the reason why I deduced that Heena was not talking loudly by accident in front of Black Heart. 
(chapter 69) It was done on purpose!! She wished that Min would take care of her brother. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the noona has a drop of sweat on her cheek. She is faking ignorance, she is acting, as if she was very protective of her brother. She uses illusion to manipulate people. In reality, she was acting here. One might argue that I am overthinking again. This is not possible, for Heena didn’t know Min at all. Hence she couldn’t manipulate him. The latter had heard of her for the first time in Yoon Seungho’s mansion. 
(chapter 66) But let me ask you this. How could Heena have never met Min, when she was the head-kisaeng? Secondly, just because the servant had never heard of the noona, this doesn’t mean that it was the case for Black Heart. The domestic assumed Black Heart’s ignorance, just like the readers. Moreover, recently I had detected that Heena had been standing in front of a mansion belonging to a noble. 
(chapter 46) This was not Yoon Seungho and Lee Jihwa’s mansion, for the gate and walls 
(chapter 67) diverge. Moreover, Min has been seen in the kisaeng house in so many chapters 
, (chapter 19) 
(chapter 59). Here, I would like to point out that in episode 59, Lee Jihwa had visited the kisaeng house on different occasions, for his hair was slowly growing. 
(chapter 59) Moreover, note that his visits took place during the day and not during the night. Why? It was for privacy and so far, during the day, the manhwaphiles never saw any kisaeng in the gibang. 
(chapter 1) 
(chapter 94) Lee Jihwa was not supposed to meet kisaengs. As you can see, Min had strong connections with the gibang, just like Lee Jihwa. Hence Black Heart should have known Heena, for she was the head-kisaeng. But I would like to bring up a more conclusive proof for this interpretation. 
(chapter 19) This image was showing us that Yoon Seungho was visiting the gibang. However, pay attention to the pattern of the doors in the last picture and the next: 
(chapter 19) The motive diverges, it looks like the one from the hallway with the purple veils. This means that the party was not taking place in the room shown in the former picture. What caught my notice is the presence of the white vase with the red flowers in front of the building. It was present in each scene taking place in the gibang. 
(chapter 93) For me, the red flowers symbolize Heena noona. This explicates why during the painter’s dream, the flowers were not present. 
(chapter 87), as Heena was not included in his vision. And this image 
(chapter 19) Striking is that the kisaeng had a similar hair dress than Heena, This is no coincidence. She was acting as the head-kisaeng. The manhwalovers will certainly remember that only two kisaengs had no braided bun or braids: this one 
(chapter 51) 
(chapter 93) 
(chapter 93) 
(chapter 95) The extravagant hair dress was exposing the kisaeng’s status. And now, you comprehend why the other noona explained the disappearance of Heena during that night. 
(chapter 19) But how could she sense that the noble was in a good mood? The latter was silent and not even smiling. 
(chapter 19) How could she claim this? In reality she was actually spying on him. Heena had no idea why the lord would come to the gibang, especially after suffering there so much. The kisaeng’s task was to dig up information. This visitation must have bothered the head-kisaeng. 
(chapter 99) He was wearing a veiled hat, yet in chapter 69, this was not the case. 
(chapter 88) 
(chapter 99) Under this new light, Min’s words get a new signification: 
(chapter 99) He was implying that they knew each other for a long time! The irony is that the manhwaphiles had the impression that their relationship was recent, and his cynical tone contributed to it. Secondly, he called her Heena, a sign that they were close to each other. Note that Lee Jihwa never mentioned her name. 
(chapter 99) His words even insinuate that Black Heart had just given the following order. The red-haired master should just fetch a kisaeng and in my opinion, Heena was waiting for Lee Jihwa’s arrival to leave the gibang. According to his words, he had no idea about the kisaeng’s identity. But is it true? I have my doubts now, and this for two reasons. Why would he ask about her identity, when he already knows that she is a kisaeng? The drop of sweat on his face is an indication that he is lying. But the problem is to determine if the deception is only referring to “I heard not a word” and to all the questions. Let’s not forget that he knew about Min’s initial intention. The moment Lee Jihwa arrived in the gibang, she just followed him. That way, they would avoid to attract attention, and with her new hair dress 
(chapter 86) The latter had been eyeing the throne in the family mansion, but he failed to take over the mansion. This was the negative reflection of Heena. Whereas the kisaeng had a powerful position in the gibang, it was the opposite for the patriarch. He was no longer recognized as the head of the Yoons. Yet, both have something in common. Both lost their position for good, for Heena and Yoon Chang-Hyeon couldn’t take or keep the seat. We could say that both got defeated by Yoon Seungho. In chapter 93, the main lead acted as a respectful and calm master, whereas in the bedchamber he showed no respect to his own father. He talked back and even made fun of him. 
(chapter 93) To conclude, the surrogate mother and the patriarch made a similar experience in season 3. Both got deceived by manipulations and in both cases, letters played a huge role. 
(chapter 94), definitely thinking that he was doing the right thing. He thought that he could never get into trouble. But this is just a deception in my opinion. As for the former head-kisaeng, she has to run away, for she did something wrong! In the past and in the present! She definitely plotted, and she is aware that her actions will have terrible repercussions. 
(chapter 102) That’s why I come to the deduction that her murder will be questioned. Why? There is no blood contrary to the bloodbath in the shaman’s house and there is no corpse!! Since Black Heart used different corpses in order to deceive Heena and the couple, there is no ambiguity that the head-kisaeng’s curtains will be doubted. Striking is that Heena staged her death out of cowardice and selfishness, while Yoon Seungho made the opposite decision. He was resolute to commit suicide in order to follow his lover in his death. During that night, Heena and Yoon Seungho lost their “home”, but at the end, he found his true home: the painters embrace. 
(chapter 102) He gave up on everything (fortune, house and life), hence he will be rewarded for all his sacrifices. Under this new light, I am more than ever convinced that Heena has not reached the bottom. Her karma is to be punished for her deceptions and acting! 
(chapter 96) 
(chapter 52) It is because Black Heart knew Heena! I even believe that he had already met the scholar. Note that the man with the black hanbok was repeating the rumors about the learned sir. And the other questioned the main lead’s action exposing that he had never heard about this grapevine before. Hence I am deducing that the one spreading this rumor could only be MIN!! That’s the reason why he just said this
(chapter 52) That means that the noble knew the teacher in the end. Therefore it is no coincidence that Min was aware where the learned sir lived!! 
(chapter 83) And now, if you connect the two scenes 
(chapter 52). Why? It is because there was an incident in the gibang!! 
(chapter 94) 
(chapter 97) 
(chapter 97) 
(chapter 97) her brother is detecting her deception. 
(chapter 89) The lord’s back is covered with marks. Yet, he was not brown-nosing here at all, for he was rejecting the lord’s advances. And now, it is time to take a closer look to season 1. 
(chapter 23) Baek Na-Kyum was seen holding an apple, here it looked like he was indeed polishing the fruit before eating it. Striking is that during that scene, valet Kim was interrogating him. He was acting, as if he was interested in him. It was, as if he was buttering up to Baek Na-Kyum. The purpose was to gain the artist’s trust so that at the end, he would listen to his advices.
(chapter 23) However, the reality was that the valet was actually digging for information, spying on the main lead, so that he could create a new incident. As you can see, there were two apple-polishers in that scene, the painter and the butler. This was the reflection within the same episode. While Baek Na-Kyum was literally polishing the apple, the other was just cajoling Baek Na-Kyum in a figurative way. Yet, the former was not truly sweet-talking to the artist. He gave the impression that he was totally honest. And now, it is important to recall what happened to the painter in the next chapter. Jung In-Hun was kissing the painter’s hands.
(chapter 24) In other words, he could never lower himself in front of the low-born. This was too much, explaining why the scholar failed with his request. 
(chapter 27) In exchange for saving Jung In-Hun’s life, Baek Na-Kyum was forced to do a fellatio. We could say that the artist was sucking up to the owner of the mansion. But the fellatio is not just an exchange of favors. It is also associated to forgiveness. At the tailor’s shop, the painter had blushed because of Yoon Seungho, The latter had embarrassed him. Thus the lord made the following suggestion:
(Chapter 39) This was his way to apologize, though here he was teasing his lover. These were the principles he had been taught, therefore it is not surprising that he applied them for the painter. And now, you comprehend why in episode 71, Yoon Seungho sucked the painter’s phallus in the bathroom, he was also currying the artist’s favors. His goal was not to be pushed away, to be accepted.
(chapter 71) He had wronged the painter so many times, that the blow-job was not enough. Thus he licked his ass in the bedchamber. He was hoping to seek his forgiveness. 
(chapter 71) It was, as if he was lowering his head, the kowtower. In this episode, the lord was on his knees in front of the painter, and this twice. One in the bathroom 
(chapter 71) and the other time in the bedchamber. 
(chapter 71) However, his nose didn’t get brown, as the painter is a pure and innocent person. 😉 That’s how I realized why Baek Na-Kyum was sent to the bathroom. His role was to divert Yoon Seungho’s attention from Kim so that the master would forget to ask for the butler’s punishment. In other words, the valet used the low-born to seek his master’s favors. This shows that Yoon Seungho had been taught that the blow-job and the ass-kissing are the means to obtain forgiveness. 
(chapter 73) He was licking the painter’s foot so that he could keep thrusting. Don’t forget that during the whole night, he behaved like a servant… the one who was “sucking up to Baek Na-Kyum”. 
(chapter 72) On the other hand, the latter scratched the lord’s back for the first time during that night. 
(chapter 72) This was the reflection within the same episode, yet the “back-scratcher” was not doing it for his personal gain at all. We couldn’t say that he was currying favor or buttering up Yoon Seungho. He believed that he was just a servant and nothing more. From the outsider’s perspective, he was treated indeed like a favored servant, though in truth Yoon Seungho viewed him more like his new master and lord.
(chapter 45) In this scene, the lord was acting like a teacher, and the painter was supposed to do a blow-job in exchange for a favor. But since the painter was heartbroken, he was doing it absent-mindedly. Thus the roles got switched. After the noble licked the painter’s ass, 
and masturbated him anal, the painter was able to confess his pleasure: 
(chapter 45) This shows that the lord was slowly “currying favors” to Baek Na-Kyum. And this is no coincidence that Kim brought the ink and brushes to the mansion. 
(chapter 45) Once again, he was acting, as if he was buttering up to Baek Na-Kyum and indirectly to the host. But the reality was that everything was done for Kim’s interest…. On the other hand, we could say that Yoon Seungho was not really different from his surrogate father, for in that scene, Yoon Seungho was more thinking about himself than the painter’s. Yet, there is a slight nuance, the lord was sensing that the painter was not himself. He was talking to him, so licking the painter’s ass was not just done in order to obtain the painter’s support. His true goal was to be noticed and looked by the painter. He desired to have a true exchange of thoughts. Interesting is that by licking briefly the painter’s ass, he indeed succeeded, Baek Na-Kyum started thinking about him afterwards. The irony is that Yoon Seungho was just applying what he had been taught. That’s how I discovered the other reason why the main lead is not suspecting the butler of treason. Contrary to Yoon Chang-Hyeon or the pedophile, Kim was never seen asking Yoon Seungho for sexual favors: no fellatio or no ass-kissing. But this is just a deception, for we could clearly see that the butler is connected to the sex parties: 
(chapter 33) 
(chapter 52) He was the one who separated the couple. Because of his intervention, the painter deserted the mansion and got sick afterwards. Then in chapter 50, he revealed the argument between Baek Na-Kyum and Jung In-Hun. Striking is that in that scene, he was standing on the lord’s left side!! 
(chapter 50) In fact, he should have “buttered up” his master and not pitied the painter. And now, you comprehend why the main lead misinterpreted Kim’s behavior. In his mind, the valet was actually “apple-polishing” to the painter. He had somehow “witnessed” it in the woods. But he had misjudged the situation, in reality he had caught Kim spying. 
(chapter 23) Unfortunately, the lord was not perceptive at all.
(chapter 80) He enjoyed seeing the painter’s facial expressions and reaction. He looked so shy and pure. 
(chapter 80) However, during that night, three people were trying to bootlick someone figuratively speaking: the new version of Deok-Jae, Kim and the messenger. Let’s not forget that before the arrival of the messenger, the painter made the following request to the butler: 
(chapter 79) One might say that he was currying favor to the butler, when he asked the butler about the music box. But what did Kim do? He brought the item to the bedchamber. 
(chapter 79) But this is not what the painter had actually requested, since the butler said this “I thought”. He had taken the initiative on his own. In my opinion, the painter had just asked that the music box should be brought back to the study. However, Kim brought the expensive present to the bedchamber for one reason. He expected the arrival of the messenger. We could say that he was “ass-kissing” the painter in order to obtain his trust. Kim definitely imagined that Yoon Seungho was sleeping. As you can see, this scene was the reflection of Yoon Seungho’s action in chapter 80. 
(chapter 80) While Kim had asked the painter’s to clean his face himself, the lord was cleaning the painter’s ass himself. Or we could say that he was polishing the painter’s apples, for he has an apple-shaped buttock. 😂 This clearly indicates that Kim has never washed Yoon Seungho himself. In other words, while Yoon Seungho was totally selfless here, this was not the case for the valet. And this is no coincidence that right after, the new version of Deok-Jae appeared in front of the door calling his master. He was faking loyalty and dedication. 
(chapter 80) Here, he was acting, as if he was sucking up to Yoon Seungho, but his gaze betrayed him. In my opinion, he had been deceived by the butler, for the latter expected that the painter would open the door. This situation was reflected within the same chapter. Notice what the messenger said to the young master in the study: 
(chapter 80) He was implying that his father had to bootlick an official in order to hide the incident. And how did the lord react to this? He not only asked the servant to do him a fellatio, but also made an allusion to the sexual favor: 
(chapter 80) His father must have kissed someone’s ass. But as you already know, Yoon Chang-HYeon is not someone who will do such a thing himself. And this shows that he has definitely used his son in order to obtain favors in such a way. Yoon Seungho had to do fellatios and let people lick his ass for his father’s sake, as he was a uke in the past. This is not surprising that the messenger received such a beating in the end. 
(chapter 80) He gave an order to the main lead, he threatened him. But actually, he was just a servant. He was not treating Yoon Seungho correctly. Interesting is that he showed more courtesy and respect to lord Lee than Yoon Seungho. 
(chapter 82) It was, as if the man was hoping to obtain father Lee’s support either. Another interesting aspect is that when the butler approached the wounded emissary, the former was definitely brown-nosing. 
(chapter 82), until he heard that the scholar Lee had approached father Yoon. On the other hand, his introduction didn’t fool the courier, for he was aware of Kim’s meddling. 
(chapter 82) In my opinion, Yoon Chang-Hyeon had followed the butler’s suggestion. Since the painter would always sleep in the study alone, he envisioned that the messenger would suggest to the artist to meet Heena. The man could fake that he had been sent by his noona. He was dressed up for that reason!! Observe that the color of the hanbok is similar to this one: 
(chapter 82) This means that if father Lee or Yoon Chang-Hyeon are cornered, they could be forced to “ass-kiss” the king. 
Baek Na-Kyum is now imitating his lover. He is also licking the lord’s boot/foot. However, contrary to the signification, he is actually making love to his companion. This has nothing to do with selfishness and hypocrisy. We could even say that at the end of season 3, Yoon Seungho had become the teacher’s pet, the yes-man towards Baek Na-Kyum: 
(chapter 92) He could never refuse his lover’s requests. Thus in the gibang, he encouraged the painter to stay in the gibang. 
(chapter 93) It was, as if he was seeking the kisaengs’ support. Thus he chose leniency towards these women, though the latter had insulted him. At the same time, he was not hoping to receive any flattery from the noonas. He was the one “sitting on the painter’s right side”. 
(chapter 93) To conclude, the lord had been “tamed”, he was apple-polishing Baek Na-Kyum, but not in a negative way. It is the positive reflection of Kim who will act behind people’s back, and definitely use sex for his own advantage. We have the perfect example with the 2 sex marathons. He always let the painter suffer in order to cover up his own wrongdoings. But by allowing the main lead to act this way indicates that he was not helping Yoon Seungho. What people thought as assistance was in truth “brown-nosing”.
(Chapter 95) In his eyes, the lord didn’t need it, for he was already aroused. Remember in the beginning of the story, Lee Jihwa had to prepare his lover 
(Chapter 3) Secondly, the painter was in the position not to ask for favors, to suck up to Yoon Seungho. In their relationship, the low-born had the upper hand. Finally, Baek Na-Kyum had done nothing wrong before, so he didn’t have to beg for the main lead’s forgiveness. That’s the reason why the lord was actually rejecting the blow-job!! 
(Chapter 95) It is the expression of affection and love. 
(chapter 101) The painter had to do a fellatio to lord Jang in exchange for protection. 
(chapter 101) The artist was not acting like the teacher’s pet, 
(chapter 101), hence he needed to receive some lesson. In their eyes, Baek Na-Kyum should have licked their boot, sucked up to them… due to their power and social status. Therefore, it is not astonishing that at the end, they were executed. Why? It is because Min and the others could never “curry Yoon Seungho’s favor”. 
(chapter 102) Without the painter, the lord had no reason to continue living. Baek Na-Kyum was his source of joy and of strength. Without him, he was powerless. And this leads me to the following observation. Since we have a situation of brown-nosing concerning Black Heart in the shaman’s house, this signifies that we should have a reflection earlier in season 3. And now look at this: 
(chapter 92) In that scene, Min was indeed “flattering” his ex-sexual partner, while he was rather dismissing the painter. 
(chapter 92) He was also indirectly currying the lord’s favor. This was the reflection of the night in episode 52 either. However, contrary to season 2, Yoon Seungho had the upper-hand, as the painter had already sided with him. But one might say that this perception of “apple-polishing and buttering up” stands in opposition to my previous statement: sex is like a battle, a fight where there is only one winner. But that one doesn’t exclude the other, since Min had also tried to eliminate Baek Na-Kyum before changing his mind. This truly shows that we had two different philosophies, yet both were evolving around sex. This truly outlines that someone was “consumed by lust” in the end. 
(chapter 86) Since the lord could see through Jung In-hun’s true personality, I believe that it is the painter’s duty to grasp the valet’s treason. In my opinion, since he caught Kim having sex with the maid, it is only a matter of time, until he realizes his true personality. In chapter 77, valet Kim had thought that he could rekindle with the owner of the mansion, hence he brought him tea and the medicine. He envisioned that if he acted like a loyal and dedicated servant, he could regain Yoon Seungho’s support. 
(chapter 77) In other words, he was buttering up to the young master. But observe that in that scene, he never lowered himself in front of the young man. He didn’t go on his knees or he didn’t bow to him either. This attitude exposes the valet’s true personality. He considers himself better than Yoon Seungho and Baek Na-Kyum, refusing to admit any crime or mistake. In that scene, he never said YES! In fact, he kept contradicting his master. 
(chapter 77) Under this new light, the avid readers can understand why he contacted the patriarch in the end. He knew that Yoon Chang-Hyeon would listen to him, for he had been brown-nosing him for years. And the color brown of his shirt is no coincidence. Observe that when the father visited the mansion, he was wearing brown and red… 
(chapter 86) He envisioned that his elder son would return him the seat and as such he would become the owner of the family mansion again. Why? It is because of the main lead’s words in the library. His so-called respect towards the father was just fake. That’s the reason why the father imagined that he just needed to show up and he would get the mansion back. However, in reality, he should have sought his son’s support, and as such kiss his ass in order to achieve his goal. But the man has never done it himself. He has always been used to being fawned and ass-kissed that it is not surprising that he barged in the mansion. And this is the same for Yoon Seung-Won. The latter might have sent letters in order to obtain his brother’s support, but we can’t say that he was sucking up to Yoon Seungho. Thus it is no coincidence that at the end, the latter advised his brother to follow the father’s principles. 
(chapter 37) Here, he was implying that Yoon Seung-Won should do fellatios and other things in exchange for favors. 
(chapter 73). But keep in mind, this is related to the painter’s education. He had been raised not only to hide his homosexuality, but also to reject sexuality as such. Naturally, in reality a no means no and nothing else. 
Bebebisous33s' analyses in K-Dramaland and Manhwas 