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 Following The Teddy Bear (part 2) and The Loser’s Mother: Fragments of a Mother
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Reading a Life Through Glimpses
Baek Junmin is not a character the story introduces directly, yet his presence has cast a long and invisible shadow over Joo Jaekyung’s life. Though he appears in only a handful of chapters—47, 49, 
51, 52, and 73 [I am excluding the match]—his role is far from minor. He is, in fact, one of the main invisible architects of the champion’s trauma and jinx, the one who once stood across from him on a night that would shape the course of both their lives. Long before he was known as the Shotgun, Baek Junmin might have pulled the trigger on something else entirely: the last remnant of Jaekyung’s innocence.
(chapter 73) Their violent encounter may have led to the vanishing of the young boy’s smile, replacing it with the hardened scowl of the Emperor, the tyrant in the ring. 
(chapter 1) If Hwang Byungchul gave Jaekyung the tools to fight, Baek Junmin gave him the reason to fight like a bloodthirsty tyrant. He did not simply scar the soul — he engraved rage into the champion’s core. The tragedy is that Joo Jaekyung never even learned his name. Thus he didn’t react to his name, only to his face and his smile. 
(chapter 47) And yet, Baek Junmin reappears, not as a stranger, but as the remnant of a past that refuses to stay buried. Additionally, he appears only through the narration of others (fighter) 
(chapter 47) or in flashes 
(chapter 73) — a gesture here, a line there 
(chapter 73) — before vanishing again. To understand him, we have to read between the panels, compare the boy we meet in episode 73 
(chapter 73) to the man who resurfaces much later. 
(chapter 47) This is how we catch glimpses of him — by holding the present up against the past, by noticing what has changed and what has stayed the same.
The clues are scattered like pieces of a puzzle: a way of standing, the choice of clothing, how he hides among others or suddenly steps forward, the company he keeps. Each fragment feels small on its own, but when placed side by side, they begin to sketch an evolution — not told directly, but implied.
And like any puzzle, the final picture depends on how the pieces are arranged. What follows is the story that emerges when I fit these fragments together — a version that exists only because I chose to see the connections this way.
The Ears: Traces of Unspoken Fights
Though his hoodie and shadowed posture attempt to conceal him, Baek Junmin’s body betrays traces of a buried past. (chapter 73) A careful look at his face in chapter 73 reveals the early signs of cauliflower ear, particularly on the right side—a subtle swelling, the deformed curvature of the cartilage. These are not the ears of a novice. They speak of blows taken in silence, of matches fought outside the spotlight. 
(chapter 73) Such an injury is not congenital, nor cosmetic. It is the ear’s irreversible memory of repeated trauma, often earned through unregulated or unsupervised fighting.
This visual clue confirms what his words and clothes only hint at: (chapter 73) Baek Junmin was already an illegal fighter before becoming The Shotgun. And yet, unlike Joo Jaekyung—whose cauliflower ears are far more pronounced (chapter 47) than Junmin’s ears 
(chapter 49) Jaekyung’s ears mark him as a champion who faced real opponents in real matches, many of them brutal. His injuries are the price of transparency, visibility, and legitimacy. They are scars earned in the light, while Baek Junmin is supposed to be a novice. 
(chapter 47)
This contrast exposes the truth. Not only Baek Junmin’s ears were the evidence of a long career in the ring (illegal fights), yet they feel more secretive—a residue of unsanctioned violence and criminality. If Jaekyung’s ears are a badge of honesty and legality, Junmin’s are a whisper of something illicit. They suggest that while the fights may have been real (death), the stage was hidden. 
(chapter 47) His damage was earned in the shadows and in staged fights manipulated by higher powers. 
(chapter 47)
The Face – From Full to Hollow
The first thing that changes is his face. (chapter 73)
As a teenager, Baek Junmin has fuller cheeks and healthy skin—a face still marked by youth and perhaps untouched by prolonged hardship. But years later, his skin adult face is hollowed out. 
(chapter 49) His cheeks have sunk, his jaw stands out more sharply, and his features seem carved by something deeper than age. This is not the look of someone forced to cut weight for competition, 
(chapter 37), for the new rising star is already much smaller and thinner than the protagonist. 
(chapter 49) It’s more likely the result of long-term stress, emotional corrosion, or drug use.
But it’s not just the face that speaks—it’s the context in which these bodies live.
In chapter 73, Park Juho casually offers drugs to Joo Jaekyung, claiming 
(chapter 73) This line is telling. It reveals not only the normalization of drug use among these teenagers, but also how intimately it’s tied to fighting. Juho isn’t offering an escape—he’s offering a tool. For him, drugs aren’t about rebellion or recreation; they are a performance enhancer. They’re marketed as part of the fighter’s toolkit.
This moment confirms that in the environment where Baek Junmin came of age, violence and substance use are not only linked—they are institutionalized. The discipline of the gym has been replaced by street rules, where the edge you gain doesn’t come from technique, but from chemical courage. And Park Juho is no outsider: he was once a member of the gym. His descent—and his promotion of drugs under the guise of athletic benefit—reflects the rot that spreads when survival replaces structure and true care.
In contrast, Joo Jaekyung—despite the violence of his career—has retained a kind of “babyfaced” youthfulness. 
(chapter 44) His skin is clearer, his features softer, and his face shows fewer signs of internal collapse. This is the effect of healthy food, structured discipline, clean training, and perhaps even emotional restraint. While Junmin’s face has been thinned by chaos, Jaekyung’s has been preserved by control. Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why the athlete fell in love with doc Dan at first sight. Despite being older, 
(chapter 7) the “hamster” still carries a baby face: a visual marker of youth, innocence, and gentleness. He embodies everything the Shotgun does not: vulnerability without corruption, softness without vice. If Baek Junmin stands for a corrupted adulthood — weapons (The Shotgun), shadows, and counterfeit gold — then Kim Dan, by contrast, becomes the sanctuary of all that was lost: the child, the smile, the safe bed.
Even before the gloves go on, the face tells the story: Baek Junmin’s path diverged long ago. He didn’t just take hits—he absorbed a life that ate away at him from the inside.
The Boy in the Hoodie
The first time we see the young Baek Junmin, he is not framed as a fighter. There are no gloves on his hands, no stance that invites a challenge. He is simply there — standing off to the side, wrapped in a black hoodie whose shadow swallows his shoulders and the line of his jaw. The garment is loose enough to blur the contours of his body, turning him into a shape rather than a figure.
His appearance captures the essence of what English calls “keeping a low profile.” But in French, the idiom garder un profil bas unfolds with even greater nuance—each of its synonyms revealing a different facet of his behavior and circumstances. Se faire discret (to make oneself discreet), être modeste (“to be modest”), rester dans l’ombre (to stay in the shadows), and ne pas attirer l’attention (to avoid attracting attention) all resonate with how he moves through this scene. The hoodie conceals his expression, his posture erases his presence, and his silence blends him into the background (“fade into the background“). He appears modest (être modeste), even passive —yet this modesty is not a personality trait, but a form of self-erasure taught by danger. He has become so invisible that he has succeeded in being forgotten (se faire oublier = to keep a low profile). Years later, when he finally stands before the protagonist again, the champion doesn’t recognize him. But Baek Junmin remembers. His question in chapter 49 
(chapter 49) reveals that anonymity was never his desire. It was his sentence.
Why was he hiding? The answer lies in the world he came from. As hinted in chapter 18, 
(chapter 18) criminals don’t want attention. They avoid the law. They train their subordinates to vanish, to move through shadows, to speak only when spoken to. Baek Junmin wasn’t just playing a role —he was surviving a system that required him to erase himself. His hoodie was not simply clothing; it was a muzzle, a shadow he had to wear. That’s why the protagonist has not made a connection between his nemesis Baek Junmin and a Korean gang yet.
(chapter 69) How is this possible, when it is clear that the antagonist is already a thug? It is because Joo Jaekyung has no idea about his true identity. He only knows him as a cheater and liar!! (chapter 51) In the past, he bought someone… but let’s return our attention to the past.
In a scene where others choose to stand out — one boy in white, another in red — 
(chapter 73) he blends in by choice. Black is not a neutral here; it is a decision to recede, to be part of the backdrop. The fabric pools around his hands, hiding the skin, while the hood hangs like an unspoken “no comment.” Even when he speaks, it is without volume or force. (chapter 73) His role in the exchange is that of a conduit — not the source, not the decision-maker, but the man in between. Striking is that another French synonym for “to keep a low profil” is “staying quiet” (se tenir coi) or “making himself small” (se faire tout petit) which totally reflects this scene.
And yet, he is not one of the low-tier errand boys either because he knows a higher-up (“his hyung”) (chapter 73) His positioning in the group is telling: physically closer to the speaker of authority, not lumped with the ones who will later be sent to do the dirty work. He is high enough to be trusted, low enough to avoid exposure. The hierarchy is implicit, mapped not by dialogue but by body placement. However, let us not get deceived. Despite Park Juho’s seemingly confident address—“Your hyung”—a closer look at the actual power dynamics reveals something far more fragile and unstable. (chapter 73) In the panel where Park Juho seeks verbal confirmation (“Right, Junmin?”), Baek Junmin’s response is subdued and minimal: “Yeah, that’s right.” He can just confirm what the other said. In fact, he is merely echoing the boy’s words—repeating them rather than asserting his own. This is not the confident affirmation of someone in control, nor the proud acknowledgment of a respected enforcer. It is the submissive response of someone complying with expectations, playing a role assigned to him—one he does not command.
Moreover, the fact that Baek Junmin physically removes his hood at that moment (chapter 73) —exposing his face—feels less like a gesture of confidence and more like a necessary performance to project even a semblance of authority. But that display only reveals how hollow his authority truly is. The power rests elsewhere: with the unnamed hyung behind the scenes.
This moment shatters any illusion that Baek Junmin has standing in the criminal underworld. He is no legend—just a middleman, entirely expendable. His presence, reduced to compliance and posturing, contrasts sharply with that of Park Juho. Though younger, Park Juho is no longer passive. He is making decisions, initiating conversation, and trying to recruit a new member. His behavior signals an emerging agency. In fact, Juho is gradually stepping into the very role Baek Junmin once tried to fill—but failed to claim. (chapter 73) The balance of power is shifting in real time, and Junmin seems to be on the verge of being silently replaced. This explains his intervention at the end. He doesn’t want a new recruit because he fears in him a rival.
There is another subtle but telling detail in this scene: the antagonist is introduced simply by his first name—Junmin. On the surface, this might suggest familiarity or equality. Yet this lack of a full name also reveals something deeper. It speaks to the absence of legacy, the absence of recognition. Junmin already has the ears of a fighter (chapter 73), this means that he is already fighting in the illegal underground ring, but he has no name that echoes his “success”. He is not the legend in the Gwanwon Province yet. (chapter 47) He is a man without renown, without lineage, this explicates why he is involved in drug dealing. This anonymity stands in sharp contrast to Joo Jaekyung, whose name will soon be attached to his first tournament win, marking the beginning of a visible, documented ascent, though I don’t think, the main lead will ever come to enjoy his victory… Not only because of his father’s death… but because of the Shotgun! My theory is that The Shotgun will make him lose his “trophy”, his victory! I will explain it further below!
Anyway, Junmin’s namelessness foreshadows his descent into the shadows, while Jaekyung’s path points toward visibility, acclaim, and transformation into a symbol: fame and success. He will be able to live out his father’s dream. 
(chapter 73) And notice that the legend is trapped to a province, indicating that he could never make it out of there like the champion! Therefore it already implies that the future “Shotgun”‘s association with the hyung is not based on loyalty or mutual respect—it is circumstantial, even transactional. It is about money and usefulness. And now, you comprehend why Baek Junmin’s position in this gang is quite precarious.
In this light, Junmin’s silence and brief confirmation expose his true position: subordinate, replaceable, and dispensable. He is not the king of this realm, but already a shadow… almost like a ghost! He’s lingering on the margins of both the law and the underworld, hovering between anonymity and infamy. After his painful encounter with Joo Jaekyung, he was told to keep a low profile. And he succeeded. He disappeared so thoroughly that not even Joo Jaekyung, whose life he once upended, could remember him. He ghosted himself (another synonym for keep a low profile) into oblivion—until the day he was reloaded.
Years later, he emerges again—but this time as a tool. Yet, I have the feeling that this man has always been a device, yet he failed to grasp his true position, as he has always faded into the background and copied others. Though he was never prosecuted for the deaths mentioned in chapter 47, (chapter 47), the five tattooed lines above his eye silently proclaim his kill count: 5 people. 
(chapter 73) That’s the same number of persons in the dark alley, when you exclude Joo Jaekyung and Baek Junmin (chapter 73) He has crossed the line: he entered the criminal world for good. Now he is no longer just a ghost, but a weapon with a body count. And this is precisely why his transformation into the Shotgun carries such grim symbolic weight. (chapter 49) A shotgun isn’t a subtle weapon—but it can be precise. It is powerful, direct, and designed for maximum impact at close range. In that sense, Baek Junmin isn’t just any tool—he is a weapon that must be pointed by someone else. His value doesn’t lie in legacy or longevity. It lies in the force he delivers when fired. He doesn’t aim; he is aimed. And like any tool of destruction, he can be reused, discarded, or silenced as needed. His body may carry tattoos and scars, but he has no voice in the system that uses him. Thus I deduce that this nickname was not entirely chosen by Baek Junmin, he was definitely influenced by his surrounding and he agreed to it, not realizing the true symbolism behind this name. Note that his nickname was only revealed, when he faced his nemesis. The target was the Emperor.
What makes this image linger is not just the hoodie (chapter 73), but what lies at its hemline: garbage bags. Stacked casually against the wall, their plastic skins catch stray glints of light. They are not the clean, tied-off kind; their surfaces are rumpled, slack in places, suggesting that some are only half full. It is a setting that smells — even if the page is silent — of neglect.
Garbage is not a neutral backdrop either. In visual storytelling, it speaks of disposability, of things used and discarded, of value extracted and then abandoned. And here, it frames Baek Junmin as much as the hoodie does. He is in this environment, not passing through it. Thus this motive appears once again: The refuse mirrors his role: useful for a time, easy to replace, meant to be kept out of sight until needed. It foreshadows what will happen to him years later, when he too will be treated as disposable by the very people who profited from him. 
(chapter 52) Note that Director Choi Gilseok doesn’t express concern for Baek Junmin, his attention is on the Emperor!
If we look carefully, the hoodie and the garbage share a function: both conceal. The hoodie hides the individual; the garbage hides the traces of past actions. Together, they create a space where identity and accountability dissolve. It also exposes his moral corruption.
This is the Baek Junmin we meet first — not the legend of the underground fighting circuit, not The Shotgun. He is almost anti-spectacle. And that is precisely why the contrast with his future self (chapter 47) — gold chains glinting, tattoos displayed, chin raised — feels so stark. To move from this shadow into the spotlight means something happened in between, something that flipped his calculation about visibility.
But for now, in this first glimpse, he is a boy learning the rules of survival: keep close to the powerful, keep your profile low, and never draw attention to yourself unless you can win the moment you do.
He doesn’t even enter the scene until the champion is gone. Joo Jaekyung has already brushed off the offer of drugs, already walked away into the dark, by the time Baek Junmin makes his approach. (chapter 73) This timing matters. It means the two men share a street that night but not a glance — the main lead never sees him, never knows they have crossed paths. And now, you know why the Shotgun could never forget him: a source of threat. This contrast exposes the truth: Not only the future Shotgun was already a thug, who kept his true nature well hidden, but also Joo JAekyung was totally misjudged: he is far from being a thug! He is totally honest 
(chapter 47),he doesn’t take pride in killing someone.
And yet, from Baek Junmin’s perspective, the scene in episode 73 is their first meeting. So he was never part of the “Hwang Buyngchul’s boxing studio”. For Joo Jaekyung, it is nothing — an evening that passes without incident. But this imbalance changes everything. When we later see them square off in the present-day hallway, it becomes clear that Baek Junmin is fighting a private, unfinished battle. (chapter 49)
The scene in chapter 73 becomes the prologue to a hidden chronology. Since the champion’s nemesis implied in the hallway that they had met personally before 
(chapter 49) and there was no direct interaction between them in the street, I come to the conclusion that their past must have crossed a second time between these two meetings. If we take the hallway encounter as their third meeting 
(chapter 49), there must have been at least a second — brief, sharp, and wounding enough to carve itself into Baek Junmin’s memory while leaving no conscious trace in Joo Jaekyung’s. The difference is telling: what the champion repressed, the Shotgun carried it like a scar. It means Baek Junmin knows more about him than the reverse, and every glare, every barb he throws later is sharpened by a history Joo Jaekyung couldn’t anticipate they share
The street itself is dim, 
(chapter 73) lit only in patches, with more shadow than clarity. In this kind of setting, the black hoodie becomes something more than clothing — it is camouflage. He is not merely wearing the dark; he is using it, letting the folds of fabric and the absence of light blur his edges. It is as if he intends to merge with the scenery, to be just another shadow leaning against the wall. This double concealment — in time and in space — ensures that, for now, he remains invisible to the one person whose attention he will one day crave. He began in the shadows not just by circumstance but by mandate. Yet as the boy in the hoodie fades into memory, a new figure will eventually emerge from those shadows—not to hide, but to strike. And he will no longer wear a hood. He will wear scars.
The Scar and the Tattoos: Carved Memory and Symbolic Death
In his youth, Baek Junmin bore no huge visible tattoos. (chapter 73) He only has a small one under the eye in the shape of a cross, an ambiguous symbol that could suggest death, a target or “devotion” (for the mafia). It was modest, even fearful. He seemed reluctant to mark his body, as though he feared being publicly identified as a thug or linked too closely to the criminal underworld. This caution contrasts starkly with his present appearance. (chapter 47) Now, his skin is heavily inked: an Oni demon slashes across his throat, a clear invocation of Japanese yakuza imagery and underground death culture. [For more read the essay Angels of Death: Shadows versus Serenity] So his transformation tells a story.
When Baek Junmin reappears in the present timeline (chapter 49), the change in his face is immediate and inescapable (chapter 73) — but only if we hold his past up against his present. The teenager in the black hoodie had smooth skin and no visible tattoos beyond a small mark under one eye, a calculated restraint that kept him from looking fully “claimed” by the underworld he moved in. His portray contrasts so much to the other teenager whose legs are covered by huge tattoos. (chapter 73) Now, Junmin’s face carries something far less deliberate: a scar running across his forehead above his right eye, a permanent reminder of an encounter that went violently wrong.
This is where the knife enters the story. Not as a vague metaphor for danger, but as an object with a history. We know Baek Junmin favors blades (chapter 47) — the demon tattoo on his throat clutches a knife between its teeth, a design too precise to be coincidence. In woodcarving, strokes are often carved with blades; in Baek Junmin’s case, the scar is a carving on flesh, an unwanted engraving that cannot be sanded smooth. The placement of the tattoo directly on his throat is almost poetic: the story of that scar is something he cannot speak, lodged like the blade between the demon’s teeth.
But the knife in Jinx carries an even sharper meaning. Hwang Byungchul once described the city as a cutthroat place — 
(chapter 72) and in this context, “cutthroat” is more than an idiom. It hints at the lurking threat of blades, at encounters in alleys and side streets where victory is stolen through speed and treachery. Joo Jaekyung has walked those streets without incident 
(chapter 72) 
(chapter 73) in the present timeline, but an assault there can happen any time.
And now, let me ask you where a knife was used before in the Manhwa? Naturally when the hero faced Heo Manwook
(chapter 17) And what did the loan shark tell him before provoking him? 
(chapter 17) Based on the champion’s facial expression after hearing Heo Manwook’s questions, it becomes clear that Joo Jaekyung experienced in the past a scene where he faced a knife and his head was smashed with a bottle of soju. The criminals are recognizable due to their tattoos and their weapons, the knife! And the logic of the knife in this world is telling: as Heo Manwook showed
(chapter 17), it appears when a fight is already lost. It is not a weapon of open combat, but of pride and desperation — a way to cheat fate when skill is not enough. Moreover, he was particularly vicious here. He attacked the champion from behind, a treacherous move. As you can see, the knife is strongly intertwined with the underworld, deception and cowardice.
You can actually detect many parallels between the argument with the champion’s father and the fight at doc Dan’s humble house: the twilight, the smashing of a bottle of soju on the head, 
(chapter 73) 
(chapter 17), a head injury 
(chapter 73), insults and provocations 
(chapter 73),
(chapter 17) and finally an allusion to the “maker”, god versus father. (chapter 17) and finally DEATH!! 
(chapter 73) The loan shark was diminishing the young man’s skills and that his success was FAKE! Why? It is because the outcome was predicted. The winner and loser would already be determined.
And here the past/present contrast becomes more than physical. In his youth, he avoided conspicuous tattoos, perhaps to maintain a veneer of respectability and legitimacy — to pass under the radar, even as he acted as a middleman for his hyung. The black hoodie, the sparse ink, the way he let others handle the dirty work of selling drugs — all of it kept him in the gray zone, unremarkable to outsiders, even to Joo Jaekyung. But the scar changes that. A face without scars can blend in; a face with one becomes a story waiting to be told.
The most visible shift in his face is the scar on his forehead—a wound likely inflicted by Joo Jaekyung during their violent, knife-laced fight. Junmin must have decided to use it, when he felt threatened… but it backfired on him. This scar became a permanent reminder of his defeat, carved into flesh like a shameful birthmark. Its position on the forehead makes it impossible to ignore. It not only mars his appearance, but becomes an emblem of inferiority: a symbol that the world (and Baek Junmin himself) can see.
The connection between scar and the tattoo is more than symbolic—it’s thematic. Both involve penetration, cutting, and permanence. In Korean and Japanese culture, many traditional tattoos were made by hand, with needles or even small blades. (chapter 47) The Oni tattoo on Baek Junmin’s throat, where the demon wields a knife, is thus a mirror to his own scar: an acknowledgment of pain and an attempt to reclaim it as power. But there’s a paradox here. The tattoo shouts violence, but the original wound whispered shame. One was chosen; the other was inflicted. The thug is damned to keep this “humiliation” secret.
But his facial transformation doesn’t stop at the scar and the demon ink. Look closer, and you’ll see two small black dots beneath his right eye (chapter 49) —subtle, easily overlooked, yet loaded with meaning. These dots form a quiet counterpoint to the earlier cross tattoo under his left eye. They mirror each other, as if Junmin were trying to impose a kind of symmetry on his face—like a man seeking order through symbols after chaos has marred him. Their placement, right next to the scar, suggests something more: a visual strategy. Perhaps they are meant to divert attention from the wound, reframing the narrative of the face so the scar becomes part of a larger aesthetic rather than a standalone blemish.
Tattoo culture often loads such markings with coded meaning. In some circles, dots under the eye mimic teardrop tattoos, carrying associations of vengeance, mourning, or lived violence. It was, as if the criminal wanted to hide his “tears” and suffering. But Baek Junmin’s dots stop at two, not three—a gesture that resists completion. It’s as though he’s gesturing toward a story without finishing it, marking himself as wounded yet unfinished: they indicate his revenge. If the cross once stood for death or sacrifice, these dots represent his attempt to balance or bury that meaning, even as they draw the viewer’s eye to the very place he was disfigured. His body, and especially his face, has become a site of symbolic warfare—a battlefield of meaning, where shame, defiance, and imitation collide.
Contrast this with Joo Jaekyung, who also bore no tattoos in his youth. 
(chapter 73) Over time, the champion chose protective symbols— clouds and a dragon-like mask—tattoos designed not to intimidate but to shield. 
(chapter 1) 
(chapter 17) They represent protection, not aggression. Where Baek Junmin’s tattoos speak of death and destruction, Jaekyung’s express escape, survival and resilience. Even in their body art, the two boys tell opposing stories: one driven by resentment and darkness, the other by endurance and self-preservation.
But there is more. Baek Junmin’s body itself has become the evidence of a crime—his tattoos and scars forming a visual confession of his descent and his affiliations. Unwittingly, those who empowered him also helped preserve these signs. The very schemers who turned him into a weapon ensured he would one day become proof of their own corruption. In that sense, Baek Junmin truly is a shotgun—not just a tool of violence, but a loaded narrative, ready to backfire on those who pulled the trigger. Moreover, let’s not forget that the CEO vouched for Baek Junmin. (chapter 47) That’s the reason why the lady in red had to defend the Shotgun’s reputation and honor. 
(chapter 69) Nevertheless, they are here buying time. How so? If the champion were to fight again and even lose, they could bury the investigations. They were also biding time in order to stop investigations and the involvement of the media.
The shift in Baek Junmin’s appearance—from a cautious, hoodie-wearing boy to a tattoo-covered, self-styled villain—maps a descent into self-loathing and performative masculinity. He mimicked the criminal codes around him, but it was a copy without conviction. Hence years later, he is seen wearing a counterfeit Gucci t-shirt and fake jewels. (chapter 47) Is it a coincidence that back then one of the minions was wearing a fake Gucci t-shirt either? 
(chapter 73) No… he is copying others and in particular Joo Jaekyung whom he resents. Thus their attitude in the ring is similar (ruthless), yet both act that way for different reasons: pain and seriousness 
(chapter 15) versus fun and schadenfreude 
(chapter 47). His new persona feels exaggerated, theatrical, hollow. He wanted to become unforgettable, but ended up being another disposable fighter in a system that only remembers champions. Now, his face is ruined: he lost teeth and has a broken nose. (chapter 52) He can never look attractive again, hence he lost his value as MMA fighter for good. Despite the incident, Joo Jaekyung is still popular because he looks so young: 
(chapter 57) Hence the nurse felt sympathy for him. At the health center, he received his long due punishment. Baek Junmin learned through the hard way what it means fighting without rules. He got deceived himself, thinking that his “hyung” would have his back.
The irony is that the origin of his scar is one Baek Junmin cannot tell without exposing a deeper connection to his past and his criminal ties. And that would be “rigging a game”, making Joo Jaekyung lose his trophy! That’s why the ghost said this: 
(chapter 54) These words imply that the outcome was predicted… That’s the reason why Joo Jaekyung needs to remember the past. There lies the truth: they are “rigging the games because of bets!
And if our earlier deduction is correct — that the scar was the result of their unrecorded second meeting — then this is not just a wound, but the physical trace of their asymmetrical history. For Joo Jaekyung, that meeting was so brief, so quickly buried, that it left no visible mark. Yet don’t think, he was not traumatized. This changed the athlete forever. For Baek Junmin, it was formative, humiliating, unforgettable. The scar becomes both a reminder of his defeat and a motive for his revenge. (chapter 49) Imagine that the man has to see this scar on his face each day… the symbol of his defeat.
In this light, the knife and the scar are not separate symbols but intertwined: the weapon that failed him, the mark that betrays him, and the silence that binds them together. And now, you comprehend why he selected the Shotgun as stage name. It was to end his “curse”, living in the shadow of the celebrity.
The Shadow Trio: Joo Jaewoong, Baek Junmin, and the Ghost
Baek Junmin’s story becomes even more compelling (chapter 47) when set against two spectral figures in Jinx: the ghost 
(chapter 54) and Joo Jaekyung’s father, Joo Jaewoong. 
(chapter 73) These three form a symbolic trio—each marked by violence, marginalization, and a desire to escape the suffocating grip of their environment. Their most immediate shared trait? A smile that feels wrong. A grin not born of joy, but of cruelty, mockery, or powerlessness. Furthermore, all three are associated with trash and garbage: 
(chapter 47) (chapter 54) 
(chapter 72) Their words or flat reflect their mindset and role. They are waste, once used, they can be discarded. For me, it becomes obvious that the ghost from the champion’s nightmare is a combination of Joo Jaewoong and The Shotgun. Besides, observe how the father’s corpse (chapter 73) resembles to the “Shotgun” after receiving his “karma”: (chapter 52) Thus I deduce that Baek Junmin’s destiny was to go down the same path of Joo Jaewoong, unless he realizes the real root of his misery!
But let’s return our attention to the grins. The latter are paired with insults—bitter, scornful language that aims not only to hurt but also to humiliate. In all three, we detect a mix of resentment and impotence. And it’s no coincidence that all three are linked to the boxing world:
(chapter 54), the father with his fading trophy, Baek Junmin with his own unspoken history in the underground ring and the ghost’s words linked to the champion’s hands. Together, they symbolize the toxic underbelly of combat sports, the place where dreams are sold and consumed.
But this trio isn’t a perfect mirror. There are divergences. Joo Jaewoong, though broken and addicted, had once been a professional athlete. 
(chapter 73) He had a past worth remembering—something he even clung to in his ruined apartment, preserving his medal and document like a relic. Baek Junmin, by contrast, never belonged to the gym. He wasn’t trained. He never received formal recognition. He fought in shadows, kept to the margins, and remained a “legend” only in the backrooms of Gangwon’s illegal rings because he trusted his “hyung”.
Joo Jaewoong also carried a paradox. He warned his son against the very path he had taken. He knew where it led—through the hands of people toward the underworld. (chapter 73) And yet he couldn’t resist gambling, drinking, or slipping further into that decay. He never kept a low profile. Baek Junmin, too, sought a way out. He almost wore no tattoos back then. His hoodie was black. He preferred to remain invisible. Unlike the younger thugs around him, he wasn’t flaunting power. He was navigating survival. His strategy was to stay hidden long enough to escape. Yet, deep down, 
(chapter 49). he desired to have a real title and admiration. (chapter 47)
But then something happened. He encountered Joo Jaekyung. And from that moment on, the fantasy of neutrality—the ability to remain on the fence—was destroyed. That’s why he approached Park Juho and questioned his actions afterwards. My avid readers will certainly recall my essay: Facing The Shotgun: Embracing Change The blond haired fighter embodies Change! Their fight which ended with a wound changed everything. Baek Junmin was defeated, scarred, exposed. And the shadows no longer provided cover.
That encounter became the turning point. While Joo Jaewoong gave up on boxing and rotted quietly, Baek Junmin doubled down on resentment and descent. If he couldn’t rise as a legitimate athlete, then he would find power elsewhere—on his own terms. (chapter 47) He wouldn’t become a better fighter; he would become a cheater. His new arena would be modeled after the streets: no rules, no weight classes, no referees. (chapter 47) His ring resembled the very fight that had marked his downfall—the alley, the knife, the shame. Yet here, surrounded by darkness and silence, he could finally rewrite the story. The violence felt earned now. People even died in these fights. To him, this was proof that his victories were real. Hence he smirked. (chapter 47) He couldn’t see that he had merely traded structure for spectacle, skill for savagery. He had confused bloodshed with honor. He was not an athlete, simply a thug.
He remained trapped in the same province, unable to leave (chapter 47)—but now he carried his own name. Baek Junmin! He is no longer Junmin, a teenager who tried to stay in the gray zone! But when he was televised, when the mobsters decided to polish his image and set him against the Emperor, he was reborn: The Shotgun. The stage name marks a shift—not just in visibility, but in function. He was no longer hiding. He could be seen, and therefore used. But by using his real name, he never realized that he could now be prosecuted. (chapter 47) He started dirtying his hands for the high-rollers.
From Junmin to Baek Junmin to The Shotgun—his very name charts a descent. He lost not only his identity, but his humanity. And perhaps most tragically, he never realized the extent of his manipulation. The high rollers never intended to hand him the champion belt. Their goal had been a tie 
(chapter 51) all along—a spectacle, not a coronation. Hence director Choi was overjoyed when he heard the verdict.
(chapter 52) That’s why he earned a lot of money. They used this fight to remove the Emperor from the stage quietly. It was time for him to give up on his throne. If they had let Baek Junmin win the fight, people would have questioned the referees. The Shotgun was there to prepare the coup d’Etat, hence the new champion is someone else. Joo Jaekyung wouldn’t remain so calm hearing this: 
(chapter 69) They knew the Shotgun wasn’t strong enough. But he didn’t. He mistook cheating for skill. He mistook chaos for greatness. He believed he had earned what was scripted all along.
The Shotgun, the Ghost, and the Father—each longed to be seen. Each was eclipsed by Joo Jaekyung. And all three tried, in their own way, to mark or damage him. They resented him for his “talent, dream and happiness”. But the irony is bitter: none of them succeeded in shaping the Emperor. They only reflected what he overcame.
Hence he became the legend (chapter 47) in the illegal fighting ring, located in Gangwon
This very trait—keeping a low profile— was what initially distinguished him from Joo Jaewoong. The latter imagined that through admiration and recognition, he would get rich. That way, he would leave the place. (chapter 73) However, the opposite happened. Why? Through boxing, he came in touch with the criminal world. Striking is that in the beginning, Joo Jaewoong did the exact opposite to the Shotgun. He became famous because of his self-destructive behavior: 
(chapter 72) This explicates why Hwang Byungchul condemned the man and sided with the mother. But while Joo Jaewoong and Baek Junmin tried to escape through the sport, they both ended up in the criminal network. And neither made it out.
What unites all three—ghost, boxer, and Shotgun—is their resent towards the main lead. None of them intended to grow old in the same town, under the same weight of poverty, violence, and anonymity. Yet none succeeded. Baek Junmin never made it past the provincial legend status, until he was called to Seoul and brought to MFC. He may have become infamous, but he was never international. Hence the last match took place in Thailand… they were hoping that the new champion would get famous internationally. In the end, their stories are fragments of the same fate: young men crushed by the very world they hoped to transcend.
Conclusion to Part 1: The Puzzle
If Baek Junmin’s character feels complex, it is because he is built like a puzzle—fragmented, hidden, and deeply contradictory. Some pieces lie in the past; others only emerge in his present incarnation. We found signs in his tattoos, in the black hoodie, in the garbage-strewn street, and even in his silence. Each glimpse offered a new facet, and every comparison with Joo Jaekyung and Joo JAewoong cast another shadow into view.
But in the end, the puzzle you’ve read was not just Mingwa’s doing. It was also mine. This is only one way of assembling the fragments.
In the second part, I will try to bring the pieces closer together—to lay out what I believe truly happened between Baek Junmin and the Emperor, and how the Shotgun was born not in glory, but in humiliation.
Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or Manhwa, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Twitter-Tumblr account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.
(chapter 61) to the champion’s expensive car 
(chapter 61), which symbolizes his personal and emotional odyssey. The car embodies a dual symbolism: on one hand, it represents his quest for happiness, freedom, and purpose; on the other, it signifies civilization and his disconnection from nature. Each frame highlights not just his physical travel but the deeper changes he undergoes along the way.
(chapter 61) marks a pivotal moment: his journey reaches its destination at the hospice. This “final stop” symbolizes his decision to live closer to Kim Dan and find a sense of rest and belonging. However, the screeching wheel also represents an unconscious choice by the fighter. At this stage, he perceives his visit as temporary, limited to his rehabilitation. 
(chapter 61) This explains why, later, the athlete is shown honking at Kim Dan while driving in the opposite direction, illustrating that his mindset had not yet shifted fully. 
(chapter 61) In the final scene, the car is no longer present, symbolizing the completion of his journey, as he settles near Kim Dan and redefines his purpose. By settling near Kim Dan
(chapter 61), Joo Jaekyung shifts his focus from external accomplishments to internal growth and emotional connection.
(chapter 61) and superficial assumptions 
(chapter 61) Park Junmin, displays a striking lack of empathy and a clear focus on self-interest in his interactions with Joo Jaekyung across two pivotal chapters. In Episode 54, he highlights Joo Jaekyung’s prolonged recovery, urging him to rest but failing to show genuine concern for his well-being. 
(chapter 54) 
(chapter 61) This statement reflects his agenda rather than any genuine concern for the champion’s future. 
(chapter 40), the other considered him as a baby. 
(chapter 54) 
(chapter 56), the lawyer, and the manager from the entertainment agency, who all used similar tactics. 
(chapter 36) They all had expectations on him.
(chapter 61) While we do not see his gaze, his expression oozes dissatisfaction, revealing that he is fully aware of the manipulation at play. This moment mirrors his reaction in Chapter 6 
(chapter 6), where he recognized how Kim Dan like the others were exploiting him for his money and reputation. However, this time, his awareness reflects growth: thanks to the doctor’s polite refusal 
(chapter 60), Joo Jaekyung now knows about the sincerity and humility of Kim Dan in contrast to those who treat him like a commodity. Thanks to Kim Dan, he is able to reject the pseudo-suggestion and instead prioritize a more genuine and respectful dynamic. He instinctively rejects the offer by stating that he will receive treatment elsewhere, a decision that catches the surgeon off guard and further showcases Joo Jaekyung’s resistance to being controlled. Turning away from the hospital, Joo Jaekyung unknowingly embarks on a journey shaped by his emotional needs, though he remains unaware of the full implications of this decision.
(chapter 61) marks a period of superficial introspection 
(chapter 61) where he begins to rationalize his actions. 
(chapter 61) In his mind, this scenario is nothing new; he is simply leveraging his resources to secure treatment from Kim Dan 
(chapter 61), much like he has done countless times before in other contexts. However, this rationalization obscures a critical difference: he is no longer in control of the dynamic.
(chapter 61) As he adjusts to a life dictated by Kim Dan’s schedule, he begins to recognize the limitations of his previous reliance on fame, money, and connections. This realization is not immediate but unfolds as he navigates the challenges of adapting to a new way of life. The loss of his VIP status becomes a catalyst for personal growth, forcing him to confront his vulnerabilities and redefine his sense of self beyond his achievements. This implies that the balance of power is moving closer to equity, though it is not achieved yet. Kim Dan’s refusal to return to the gym compels Joo Jaekyung to adapt to his terms, diminishing the power dynamic that previously defined their relationship. Kim Dan is now the one controlling the champion’s time. This shift signifies the erosion of the transactional nature of their relationship. No longer a boss commanding an employee, Joo Jaekyung becomes a patient seeking help from a professional. 
(chapter 61) That’s why Kim Dan can leave his side right away after the treatment. Moreover, the main lead feels no longer obliged to talk to his fated partner. He interacts as little as possible with the MMA fighter. 
(chapter 61) The champion is confronted with silence and emotional distance revealing that Joo Jaekyung is looking for something else. I would even add that he needed to experience this new approach as failure in order to force himself to change his MO and mind-set. This loss of status as a VIP underscores a larger theme in the narrative: the futility of relying on external markers of success to navigate personal relationships.
(chapter 32) 
(chapter 32), the “hamster” learned to be cautious about such “generous offers”. 😂 That’s why the physical therapist is rejecting any assistance from the athlete. Because of this reminder 
(chapter 60), Joo Jaekyung lost all his credibility in the doctor’s eyes. From that moment on, Kim Dan is perceiving any offer or genuine concern as a trick and fake assistance with selfish intentions. Hence the hamster can no longer see the celebrity’s genuine and selfless action, like this one: 
(chapter 61) Each time Kim Dan turns his back on him 
(chapter 61), it reinforces Joo Jaekyung’s subconscious pursuit. The honking scene represents reality—Joo Jaekyung knows what he wants (here his attention) and continues to follow Kim Dan, yet he does not recognize the emotional dependency forming through these actions.
(chapter 61) This transition is not just physical but deeply symbolic, contrasting his former life of isolation and detachment in the penthouse with a new environment characterized by community and connection.
(chapter 61) Its luxurious yet cold atmosphere symbolizes his exclusion and lack of roots. It is a sterile world. 
(chapter 35) Living above everyone else, like a god, further emphasizes his disconnection from the world around him. Seoul itself, as a city of anonymity, amplifies this isolation. The penthouse’s grandeur and emptiness serve as a stark reminder of his solitary existence, where material success failed to provide fulfillment.
(chapter 61) The T-shirt he wears, emblazoned with “Fair of God Essentials,” subtly reflects his evolving mindset. The phrase evokes themes of humility and essentialism, aligning with his journey from a life defined by material excess to one centered on genuine connection and simplicity. The notion of “being neighbors” further emphasizes his integration into the community—a stark contrast to his isolated existence in the penthouse. The house is no longer just a space but a reflection of his evolving priorities.
(chapter 61) Drawing from past experiences, the champion believed that treating Shin Okja well would win Kim Dan’s favor. In earlier episodes, Kim Dan expressed gratitude with a gentle smile 
(chapter 22) when Joo Jaekyung made efforts to bring a smile to his grandmother’s face, even going so far as to cook him breakfast afterward. 
(chapter 22) Having missed Kim Dan’s meals and the intimacy they symbolized, Joo Jaekyung unconsciously imagines that this approach will recreate that connection. 
(chapter 61) The doctor is showing his disappointment with his mouth. Kim Dan, burdened by his own painful experiences with his grandmother, has come to see their relationship as fractured. 
(chapter 57) Shin Okja’s rejection of Kim Dan, telling him he was a stranger and should return to Seoul, further deepened the divide. In a significant moment, Shin Okja uses for the champion the phrase “our little town,” 
(chapter 61) which gives the impression that she is including Kim Dan in her sense of community. However, in Episode 57 she had expressed the exact opposite. For her, home is deeply tied to family and childhood, while Kim Dan, who spent most of his time in Seoul, represents a disconnection from that shared history. So when she utilized this idiom, she was referring to the community in general. 
(chapter 60), unaware of the rejection Kim Dan experiences from his grandmother. Joo Jaekyung may even believe that the old man in the town is a relative of Kim Dan, further solidifying his misunderstanding. Note that he doesn’t investigate Kim Dan’s life, he judges him based on impressions and appearances, especially since he can no longer talk to him. These interactions underline a crucial misalignment: while Joo Jaekyung interprets Shin Okja’s words as inclusive and warm, Kim Dan can only be reminded of his exclusion and estrangement. Shin Okja’s conversation with Joo Jaekyung will undoubtedly play a significant role in the future: a point of no return.
(chapter 61), gestures she denied her own grandson in season 2 —it can only exacerbate Kim Dan’s feelings of alienation. The zoomed panel of their hands 
(chapter 61), but seems to have forgotten that Kim Dan is in a similar situation. 
(chapter 57) By moving to that place, the athlete can say that he belongs to that place and can claim his closeness to the grandmother. 
(chapter 61), the reality is far more complex. Kim Dan’s insistence on maintaining professional boundaries forces Joo Jaekyung to confront the limitations of his influence and the necessity of respecting Kim Dan’s autonomy. The daily routine of seeking treatment 
(chapter 61) He can no longer hide his special relationship behind work.
(chapter 61) This means that his move announces a change in their relationship: privacy. They are neighbors and as such acquaintances. 
(chapter 61) Despite working in a hospice surrounded by trained nurses 
(chapter 61), no one else notices or comments on this obvious injury. It was, as if the staff including the director were all blinded by the celebrity’s status and wealth. 
(chapter 61) So unconsciously, they came to develop the following belief: only elderly people can get sick. This explicates why the doctor and the nurse recommended rest to Joo Jaekyung 
(chapter 60). They imagined that Kim Dan was simply suffering from a burnout. 
(chapter 57) However, in real life, young people can become ill too. Secondly, cancer is not the only disease in the world, just like burnout is not the only mental issue. There exists so many disorders and diseases that it is important that a hospital doesn’t focus too much on one illness. Why? It is because the hospice or hospital will lose its patients in the long run. No wonder why the institution in this little town is not modernized. 
(chapter 59). He didn’t make the distinction in the end.
(chapter 61) Joo Jaekyung’s sincere concern, however, is short-lived for two reasons. 
(chapter 61), creating an emotional barrier that Joo Jaekyung respects 
(chapter 61), even if begrudgingly. Secondly, Joo Jaekyung quickly connects the bruise to the removal of a needle 
(chapter 61), which absolves him of any perceived responsibility for Kim Dan’s injury. This logical deduction, while correct, also highlights the limits of his emotional insight at this stage. Although he recognizes the physical signs of distress, he does not yet fully grasp the emotional struggles underlying them and the danger behind this huge bruise.
(chapter 61) who serves as a symbol of motherhood and nature. Boksoon’s own experiences, including the loss of a puppy 
(chapter 59), highlight the impact of nurturing and loss, shaping her behavior toward both her puppies and humans. She should become more attentive and reliant on humans, notifying them if something is wrong. Her heightened sensitivity positions her as a potential bridge between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, subtly training the champion’s nurturing instincts. Hence in front of the house, she stands between the main couple. 
(chapter 59), attributing it to the natural order and failing to take proactive steps like seeking veterinary care. 
(chapter 57) This missed opportunity underscores the consequences of neglect, in contrast to Boksoon’s increased attentiveness. On the other side, the old man paid attention to Kim Dan’s odd behavior (his alcoholism
– chapter 57 -, his workaholism 
– chapter 57 ) Hence I am assuming that he will be a source of information for the champion. And now pay attention to their position in front of the house: 
(chapter 37), Joo Jaekyung now operates within a framework where he must respect boundaries and take responsibility for his actions. This transition signifies his understanding that money cannot shield him from the realities of interpersonal relationships and the consequences of his past behavior. To conclude, he can no longer cross the line and return to his old self.
(chapter 53) for not realizing her biggest wish: to return to the West Coast. With her words, she implies that she never had any choice. Hence she is not responsible for her “misery”. However, after reading Erich Fromm’s philosophy, it becomes clear that she must have always followed social norms and listened to authority figures (parents, husband, doctors, …). That’s how she gave up on her own freedom. One might argue that her scoop of maneuver was limited due to her poverty. However, the Mother Of Pearl Wedding Cabinet is definitely expensive and no junk 
(chapter 16), especially since the latter is rather old. The grandmother could have sold it, but she never did, for the latter has a sentimental value. Consequently, I would say that she had missed her chance, and naturally her misery is the result of her own wrong choices. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the grandmother portrays herself as poor who has nothing to give to her grandchild. 
(chapter 53) As a slave, she can not become responsible for Kim Dan and his life. However, she is wrong here again. She was not entirely powerless. She could have talked about her experience with the ocean, she could have loved her grandchild more properly so that Kim Dan wouldn’t have to suffer from abandonment issues and a low self-esteem. Yes, love is something free and no one has control over the emotions of a human being. Due to her lack of self-awareness (Peter Pan Syndrom), she influenced her grandchild negatively, and the latter became a copy of herself: trapped in the past, living in an illusion and rejecting reality. Funny is that by relying on Kim Dan constantly, she was actually teaching her grandson to become accountable and independent. She was entrusting her life into his own hands. Consequently, the main lead chose to accept the deal from Joo Jaekyung during their first night and later asked for a higher salary. Finally, at the end, he chose to leave the penthouse out of obligation 
(chapter 53) (filial duty), a sign that he is not able to break free from social norms. At the same time, it displays that his feelings for Joo Jaekyung are much stronger than the ones for Shin Okja. His short time spent in the penthouse left a deep impression on him.
(chapter 53) Her vocabulary exposes that she became a master and in her mind, the puppy dog has to follow her owner. Therefore it is no coincidence that Mingwa created such an image: 
(chapter 53) The grandmother is now the master of her own life and Kim Dan’s. On the one hand, just before her death, she is learning to become accountable for her own life, even though I still have my doubts that she is really realizing the consequences of her choice. She is still chasing after after an illusion. As you already know, I am anticipating a rude awakening fron her part, as she can not escape from reality and her own mortality. On the other hand, with her request, she gets responsible for her grandchild’s career, and someone could criticize her for making him quit. She didn’t take his job’s obligations into consideration. Simultaneously, this image illustrates a relapse of Kim Dan. He is once again trapped, though he wished to be freed. Thus he wrote this to Joo Jaekyung: 
(chapter 53) Deep down, he would like to be recognized as a competent physical therapist. Moreover, my avid readers should recall that the champion had already noticed the change of heart in the doctor before the scheme took place. 
(chapter 53) So the athlete could come to the realization that his departure was related to the grandmother’s sickness and dying wish, a new version of episode 20 and 21. However, even if the fighter helps the grandmother, he can not entirely free the physical therapist. How so? It is because the doctor has to free himself, breaking free from conformity and his own psychological constraints (lack of confidence and as such courage). And the best evidence for his servitude mentality is the absence of his love confession to the athlete. He disguised it behind gratitude.
(Chapter 45) But how can he change his condition? I will give the answer below.
(chapter 14) Yet, the reality is that despite his wealth, he is not free at all. Actually, he reminded me of a Roman gladiator. Gladiators in ancient Rome lived under challenging and contradictory conditions. Although they were often slaves or prisoners of war, some achieved fame, wealth, and admiration comparable to modern-day sports stars. Successful gladiators could earn prizes, attract fan followings, and even enjoy certain luxuries within their restrictive lives. However, they remained under the control of their lanista (manager) or the state, with little freedom to make personal choices. They could not select their opponents or refuse combat, and each fight carried the risk of injury or death, underscoring their vulnerability and lack of autonomy despite their celebrated status. 
(chapter 2) Therefore sex is linked to prostitution and work. Back then, this had nothing to do with pleasure, sensuality and entertaining. It was revolving around power and domination. That way, he wouldn’t appear as weak, he is not controlled by his sexual desires and emotions. That’s how it dawned on me why the champion has been denying the existence of feelings in his past relationships. Naturally, it is possible that he got his heart broken before, but it is also possible that he could never live out his own true homosexuality. Note that his father figure, Park Namwook, has no idea about his sexual life. The athlete could fear to disappoint him. This raises the question how the manager will react, when the athlete’s secret is exposed. Should he request from his boy to organize a conference and deny the allegation there, he would divulge not only his lack of loyalty, but also his hypocrisy. Why? It is because this is something he should have organized after the last match. A conference to expose the existence of schemes. But everything got swayed under the rug. On the other hand, I deduce that if the topic of sodomy is brought up in season 2, there is no ambiguity that both main leads won’t give in to conformity and external pressure (even in the form of threats). Why? It is because during season 2, both characters will come to be true to themselves. That‘s how they can become master of their own life.
(chapter 41), from his manager’s influence (father figure) and even from the MFC world (authorities) !! What is the common denominator between these three persons? MONEY! 
(chapter 50) Hence the last match was not cancelled in the last minute. The athlete is not fighting out of fun and passion, but out of obligation and survival. He is trapped in a world where money is everything. Thus he was always pushed to accept any challenger despite his injuries. That’s how I realized why the athlete always suspected Kim Dan of being greedy. It is because he projected his own thoughts onto his partner. However, this negative perception was definitely influenced by his “hyung”, we have the best example in episode 46. Due to Park Namwook, Joo Jaekyung was the one who was constantly thinking and talking about money in front of Kim Dan. 
(chapter 26) No wonder why he got so surprised by Kim Dan’s reaction in the locker room: 
(chapter 51) He was disarmed by a single question and a shocked and disappointed face: 
(chapter 51) The question implied that the doctor had been trusting him.
(chapter 43), yet he added shortly this comment: : 
(chapter 43) The hypocrite coach utilized the personal pronoun “WE” indicating that he and his peers had played a role in the athlete’s decision. Funny is that though he complained about the schedule, he still accepted the switch of the fighter later. But he could have voiced his fears and objections. Nevertheless, he did nothing. Since I connected the halmeoni to past, I suddenly realized that the “lanista” embodies the opposite notion. He is trapped in the future, thus he is always anxious. Imagine that in that scene, they were celebrating Joo Jaekyung’s birthday, it should have been a good time. Yet, the manager kept talking about work and the future. 
(chapter 43) 
(chapter 43) This is a sign that he was not “enjoying the present”. In my eyes, with his comments, he was actually ruining the party. Fortunately, no one paid attention to his words except the physical therapist and Yosep. By talking like that, he gives the impression that he is caring and paying attention to the fighter. Yet this is just an illusion, for he is not focused on the present. He neglected his duties, therefore the schemers were able to bring drugs to the champion’s rooms. 
(chapter 49) Notice that he was afraid of an outburst from Joo Jaekyung in the locker room, therefore they were restraining him. This was no real protection. I am suspecting that the manager is trusting MFC and its organization. In addition, his obsession with the future explains why the athlete’s mental health has been neglected by the coach and manager. As a conclusion, Park Namwook is himself trapped in his own world: money, fear of the future and the champion‘s retirement which means the end of his own career as manager and coach. Therefore he is pushing his fighter to race against time. It is only a matter until his boy gets injured!!
(chapter 53). The latter announces that his “boy” can take a break. What caught my attention is his idiom. The suspension got turned into a break which sounds much more positive. Interesting is that break is not only a synonym for “rest”, but also for “opportunity, chance”. This new discovery reinforces my previous interpretation: the loss of his “title” and his suspension are in verity an escape to freedom. Why? It is because he is no longer exposed to manipulations and external pressure like in episode 36: 
(chapter 36) money, social media, the agency, the lawyer, Park Namwook and Jeong Yosep. For the first time, Joo Jaekyung can think of something else other than work. Nevertheless, the athlete had not realized it yet. Striking is that the longer the fighter thought about the PT’s resignation, the longer he came to object to it. 
(chapter 53) This means that the fighter was acknowledging the “uke” as an important member of Team Black. In addition, he was recognizing Kim Dan’s effort and talent as PT. Moreover, it exposes the absence of change in Joo Jaekyung’s mentality. He was still “thinking” of work and fighting. It displays that the protagonist had not realized the true signification of his suspension yet. Hence the doctor’s departure was necessary. Joo Jaekyung is forced to think about his fated partner, making him forget his work and his career. His “obsession” with Kim Dan will push him to stop being a workaholic. But there is more to it.
(chapter 21) to this 
(chapter 47) Money is powerless in front of death and terrible injuries. Therefore he is lucky that his shoulder is not ruined forever. Moreover a trip represents a good metaphor for an escape, a travel is a synonym for freedom and the end of “routine”.
(chapter 43) In episode 1, he gave a positive feedback
(chapter 1). Nonetheless, his words sounded more negative due to the usage of negation. Moreover, Kim Dan was too scared to take his words seriously. Consequently, it becomes obvious that Kim Dan needs to hear praises from the athlete himself. It is not just about an apology about his misjudgment, the “hamster” needs to hear from his own patient that he trusts him and his hands. Thus he wants to be needed: 
(chapter 53) This explicates why the young man kept questioning the actor’s intentions behind his gifts. He could see that the man didn’t need him. This thought displays his desire to give a meaning to his own existence as well. If he is needed, he has a reason to exist. This desire of being needed can be expressed by words, but also with the hands: 
or like this: 
And what does the hand symbolize? The latter symbolizes gratitude and love! Hence the grandmother took the MMA fighter’s hand in order to thank him. 
(chapter 22) 
(chapter 45) so much and preferred organizing a charity event for his birthday . 
(chapter 41) Being on the receiving side makes him feel weak and powerless. He is reduced to become a passive man. Furthermore, we shouldn’t overlook that such presents are not entirely selfless. Companies or admirers have expectations from Joo Jaekyung, earning some money or getting his attention. At the same time, these presents are strongly connected to his title and fame as champion. Thus they are not taking into consideration about the athlete’s dislikes and likes. Thus he was offered a bottle of wine 
(chapter 12), though he is no drinker or he doesn’t eat cakes. 
(chapter 41) The fact that the athlete organized a charity event for his birthday exposes not only his huge heart, but also that he had long recognized the power of generosity. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the champion was willing to pay off the doctor’s debts. 
(chapter 18) Here, he hoped to see gratitude on his fated partner’s face, but it didn’t happen like he imagined. Yet, notice that despite their argument, Joo Jaekyung proposed to the main lead to live with him in the penthouse: 
(chapter 18) His facial expression is exposing his true thoughts. He was definitely happy to help the doctor. The reason is simple. He is in control of his heart and life. This shows that deep down, the man has always had a soft heart and could find fulfillment in giving. However, the problem is that the champion had also internalized that there is nothing free in this world. Due to his past experiences, he realized that receivers would exploite his goodness. The green-haired guy was the perfect example. 
(chapter 2) Therefore it is not surprising that he kept denying his kindness to the doctor: 
(chapter 18) He had to, because the man was now living with him. Joo Jaekyung feared that his roommate could come to take advantage of his new position and even consider this place as his own. As you can see, the champion had long discovered the power of giving to others. Yet his problem was that he couldn’t live out this principle: he was either exploited or he has no family or close friend so far.
(chapter 30) They both desire to be acknowledged and appreciated. 
(chapter 45) With this image, it was, as if Kim Dan wanted to be distinguished from all the stans. Yes, I do think that this has something to do their own negative feelings. However, there is a difference between Choi Heesung and Kim Dan. Note that the gifts are related to his sponsors and the agency. They were related to his work. Moreover, the gumiho rarely gave the meals or the presents personally. 
(chapter 31) 
(chapter 31) Furthermore, the actor gave these things for one reason: it was to obtain the doctor’s heart or to maintain his good image as a celebrity. In other words, these gestures were not selfless at all. This explains why the athlete was so weary of such “gifts”: a return of favor or a service. But the comedian is not the only one donating things. Naturally, it is the manager Park Namwook. 
(Chapter 26) 
(chapter 36) However, my avid readers should ponder on the following aspect: how did he buy the jackets and the junk food? 
(Chapter 37) This last scene is terrible, for this purchase happened behind the boss’ back. Naturally, everything was bought with the company card!! In other words, Park Namwook’s generosity is fake, for he is not spending his own money. After this new realization, I started wondering if the athlete’s negative attitude towards Kim Dan is not the consequence of Park Namwook’s behavior as well who takes it for granted to spend money on the athlete’s account. Why did the champion anticipate an expectation from Kim Dan, when he received the keychain? 
(Chapter 45) It is because his relationship with his coach has always been based on „conditional love and expectations“. Don’t forget that the coach was particularly nice to the athlete after winning his match in Busan. He was willing to be his „servant“ in that moment. Furthermore, there exists another evidence that in episode 45 the fighter latched out on the doctor because of his unresolved feelings towards his hyung. 
(chapter 41) This frenzy was portrayed as something positive. Jinxworms can observe that the manager is mentioning the existence of „favors“. For me, it is no coincidence that in episode 45, the arrival from presents coming from his hyung coincides with the present with Kim Dan. It shows the underlying conflict between the celebrity and the former wrestler. Nevertheless, the fighter has not grasped it yet. So far, Joo Jaekyung has not tried to defy Park Namwook openly, to claim his place as the true owner of Team Black. We should see his words here as a first attempt to act as the boss
(Chapter 46) The tension reached its peak in that scene: 
(chapter 52) The manager imagined that he could act like in the past (recurring to force), for Joo Jaekyung was „used“ to take his slaps. 
That’s where the generosity from Park Namwook comes from: he gives his punches to Joo Jaekyung and takes Joo Jaekyung‘s company for granted. And now, you comprehend why I selected such a title for this essay. 
(Chapter 26) The sparring in episode 26 represents the positive version of giving a punch and taking it. The fighter was not upset about his defeat, moreover he was acting like a real teacher asking the physical therapist to overcome his own fears. On the hand, the slap at the hospital embodies the opposite notions: resent, no real teaching, no reflection, no listening, the one slapping is not overcoming his own fears and vents his anger. The give and take in episode 26 was happiness, true generosity, self-awareness, while this slap displays misery, anger, ignorance: 
(Chapter 26) The contrast not only exposes Park Namwook’s fake generosity, but also his greed and selfishness. For me, he missed the opportunity, as at the gym, Kim Dan took the chance, when the athlete was distracted. Hence in my opinion, chapter 52 was the turning point in their toxic relationship. Moreover, it signifies that the manager lost his special position as hyung. Far away from the gym, Joo Jaekyung will see Kim Dan under a different light, maybe even as a true role model, for he is wearing his heart in his hand.
(chapter 7) 
(chapter 43) He needed to seclude him from the others. But where does this possessiveness come from? In my opinion, it is not just the result of his own insecurities, but also the influence of the bad role model he had: Park Namwook. First, only in chapter 45, the manager sent congratulations from his family: 
(chapter 9), the manager kept creating a bad image of the athlete: brutal, moody, maniac… but the reality is that the man is actually generous and caring, like mentioned above and the coach knew this. Hence he could lie without any remorse: he is a savior and the gym owner. Moreover, the athlete can speak well and be polite. 
(chapter 22) This scene at the hospital displays that the fighter had been mirroring the behavior of his counterpart: Shin Okja is sweet and kind. And who is moody, yelling, brutal ? Park Namwook: 
(chapter 43) 
(chapter 7) Therefore I conclude that this possessiveness and obsession with Kim Dan is the result of the manager’s influence. Park Namwook treated him like a possession. And this brings me to my next part. How to become happy? One might reply: by loving someone. However, how can Joo Jaekyung drop his insecurities and open his heart like that? As you can see, we need another explanation.
(chapter 15), but as soon as his idol lost his title and got even suspended, he yelled and slapped his fighter: 
(chapter 22) Since his relationship with the main lead is so secure, he could claim the gym as his own. Notice how he treats the members here: he’s putting them under pressure, threatening them. Everything is revolving around competition, seriousness and greed. Why doesn’t Joo Jaekyung mess with his weight and nutrition? It is because his hyung made sure that the latter would fulfil all his expectations. He needs to be ready for the next fight. Why was the manager not present here? 
(chapter 43) This exposes his lack of engagement and indifference in the end, but this becomes even more obvious during the night: 
(chapter 43) Where was he, when his star was drunk? It was, as though he had vanished. 
(chapter 43) But the best evidence for this interpretation is this image: 
(chapter 52) The manager is upset, because his boy lost his title and his reputation is ruined. Moreover, many members left the gym which means that the company lost a lot of money. 
(chapter 9) However, he never presented himself as a father or a husband. It was, as if his children or wife were not a source of his happiness. Why? It is because they don’t bring money, but rather cost money. Thanks to Joo Jaekyung’s popularity, the manager could stand in the spotlight 
(chapter 40), yet notice that no fans or fighter know his name as a successful coach or manager. He is not a famous manager in the end. His income depends on the athlete’s career and victories. No wonder why he put so much pressure on his celebrity. Thus I had the following revelation: he was actually exposing his true self in front of the doctor at the restaurant. 
(chapter 40) in the States and even at the gym? 
(Chapter 43) It is because he doesn’t view the uke as a possession contrary to his „boy“. Why? It is because the young man doesn’t bring money or contribute to boast the manager’s self-esteem. In fact, Kim Dan is an expensive PT and the manager is aware of his high salary. Moreover, contrary to the hamster, Park Namwook was never seen in the penthouse, and the celebrity refused to invite the members. This is a clue that the champion could have refused to invite his coach there. The doctor’s stay at the penthouse is something Park Namwook discovered by accident. 
(Chapter 22) And now, it is important to recall that in the mode of Having, rivalry and competition are predominant. Therefore I deduce that deep down, the coach and manager sensed the physical therapist as a source of threat and rival. Therefore Jinx-philes shouldn’t be surprised that the coach did nothing to keep Kim Dan. 
(Chapter 53) Here his gestures and words should be judged as lip-services. He can even rationalize his departure: bad luck, they save a lot of money, for the next PT will have a lower salary. In addition, Kim Dan was treated as the celebrity’s possession, therefore he used him as a tool in order to compensate the actor. The manager is definitely imagining that once the break ends, things will work like before. 
(chapter 17)
(chapter 41) In his eyes, possessions and money determine someone’s values. Hence he bought an expensive keychain for his fated partner. Furthermore, I have been wondering if this spending is not related to Shin Okja, the latter could have been a spendthrift. In the essay „
(Chapter 19). Another possibility is that she made sure that her grandchild would spend money on her:
(chapter 22) after the departure of Joo Jaekyung, but notice how the halmeoni thanked the benefactor: 
(chapter 21) One might argue that the poor woman couldn’t do much to express her gratitude. However, this is just a deception. Shin Okja could have written a letter to express her gratitude to Joo Jaekyung. Why do you think Mingwa created two scenes with a letter or card? 
(chapter 45) 
(chapter 53) The comparison lets transpire the importance of words. The champion might have judged the keychain differently, if he had read the card. But he didn’t. Another parallel between these two scenes is the rejection of a gift! However, in the final episode, Kim Dan voiced genuine gratitude towards his benefactor. The latter had allowed him to work as his PT. With the letter, he could voice his thoughts and emotions much better. And now, you realize that Shin Okja could have acted the same way. This made me realize that deep down, she resents being poor. She likes Dan spending money on her.
(chapter 41). He should treat the sportsman nicely (“do good”). Kim Dan is the one who should be indebted to Joo Jaekyung. However, observe what she said in front of her grandchild before: she was the one who was grateful to the main lead, and not Kim Dan!! 
(chapter 41) She should have been the one who expressed her gratitude to Joo Jaekyung, but not Kim Dan for the trip (it was work related anyway). One might argue that the poor woman is trapped in the hospital, she can not do much. But you are wrong. She could have written a letter to her benefactor which means that she would have sacrificed some of her time for the athlete. Imagine that she had sent a message to the athlete, the latter might have decided to pay a visit to her. He is not truly heartless. With this silence, she created the impression that his assistance had changed her situation.
(chapter 22) 
(chapter 1) In other words, he was not passionate about his profession. This means that he didn’t define himself as PT due to his lack of engagement and low self-esteem. Besides, let’s not forget that he judges people based on their social status and seniority. I would even add, the main lead had not recognized the existence of his own skills (knowledge, genuineness and dedication). But by working for Joo Jaekyung, he came to enjoy his job. This explicates why he kept buying books. 
(chapter 53) He likes not only his job now, but also learning as such. This is no coincidence that education in the mode of “being” means that the focus is on learning and developing skills. Hence I still see a change in the hamster at the end of season 1: 
(chapter 52) In this panel, the author let us see glimpses of their motivation and thoughts. For them, the champion has nothing to teach them, since he lost his title and is injured. This shows that they are only interested in the outcome, success and as such fame, but not in the process, how to become skilled! In other words, they see “success” as a possession. He has no title, then he has nothing to offer. They are all living in the mode of having, which can only lead to misery and even self-destruction. No wonder why they were not too upset or shocked, when they heard that the game had been rigged. But what led them to make such a decision?
(chapter 23) Then he only focused on the “outcome” and not on the process. Hence he neglected them, delegated his task on the pressured athlete. The latter had to train them: 
(chapter 25) and 
(chapter 36) In my eyes, he didn’t want to play the bad guy. The meeting or his worries were more important 
(chapter 36) than their training and career. Moreover, he kept bribing them with junk food 
(chapter 46) The latter was a new source of income and fame. Everything was revolving around money. That’s how it dawned on me why the manager got angry for the bet in episode 26: 
(chapter 26) We shouldn’t judge his words as a verity, he was just using the doctor as a false excuse. The reality is that the sparring had brought no money at all! This fight was strongly intertwined with fun. The notion of „entertaining“ stands in opposition to money. Fun means feeling emotions and being to true one’s self. In other words, Kim Dan stands for a different notion of MMA fighting: the sportsmen shouldn’t work for money, but for fun. They are artists too. This signifies that as time passed on, the members of Team Black lost their passion for fighting 
(chapter 26) and became more obsessed with possessions and fame. Potato and the remaining members represent the exceptions. They enjoyed the lessons despite the pain and struggles. The other members became dependent on external tools which led them to lose their integrity. To conclude, the reason for their disloyalty is that at the end, they had long internalized the mode of having and were just interested in getting successful.
(special episode2 ), but also Cheolmin 
(chapter 13) who likes making jokes. That‘s how I came to understand why Cheolmin appeared only one time in season 1. He will come to replace the manager: 
(chapter 13)
(Chapter 13) when the latter denied his responsibility. This shows that the man doesn’t mistrust people. He has faith in humans. And in this short scene, the doctor shows alle positive notions mentioned above: love, empathy, joy and creativity. Therefore I come to the following interpretation: he embodies the being mode. No wonder why he was not present in season 1. The main lead was definitely obsessed with work. Hence the moment Cheolmin’s path crosses Kim Dan’s, the funny doctor should become the hamster’s new role model.
(chapter 48) are full of greedy people who have no problems to commit crimes in order to achieve their goals (more fame, more wealth, revenge, more connections). Baek Junmin became a champion by cheating.
(chapter 53) He is standing at a crossroad. What does he truly want in life? Fame? More money? Or happiness and as such love and fun? 
Bebebisous33s' analyses in K-Dramaland and Manhwas 