Hey, what if we’ve been totally wrong about this from the start?
We see Guwon kill someone in chapter 1, yeah. But he’s never said he killed Teach’s dad. When Teach straight-up accuses him, Guwon just denies it — calm, sure of himself — like he knows exactly what he did and didn’t do.
What if Teach’s whole hate and obsession is just him trying to avoid facing something way worse? Like, what if he’s actually the one who killed his dad?(like some of you think ) Maybe by accident, maybe in a moment he can’t remember clearly, and Guwon just happened to witness it all?
That’d explain why Guwon stays quiet — not because he’s scared, but because it’s not his place to break that kind of truth to Teach. Teach has to deal with it himself, no matter how much it would mess him up.
Imagine if one day Guwon looks Teach in the eye and says,
“I saw you.”
That would blow everything apart.
Drama’s my favorite but honestly? I’m so lost right now I don’t even know who’s playing who, or what’s real. Just gonna sit back and watch this trainwreck unfold.
That screamer pls guwon looked like a creep clown and im reaaally scared of clowns .
Guwon kind of gives off Violet Evergarden vibes — but if Violet had been raised in a cage, taught nothing, and left to figure out morality on her own. He doesn’t know what’s right or wrong — he just imitates what seems ‘good.’ When Teach tells him that killing the father wasn’t okay, Guwon literally breaks down. He repeats the question over and over like a kid who didn’t realize he hurt someone until it was too late. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t get angry — he glitches. He just wants to understand.
And that’s what makes his bond with Teach so intense. Teach is scared — but he doesn’t back down. He tells him the truth, violently even. And Guwon respects that. He says it himself: ‘he’s not like the others.’ Not because Teach is kind — but because he dares to confront him.
But then, there’s the doctor. And the town. The whole peaceful village thing? It’s a lie. A controlled environment designed to keep Guwon in check. They dressed it up as safety, but it’s just a prettier kind of cage. Guwon was never free — he was being handled. Observed. Softly manipulated into staying put, thinking he had a purpose.
And now that he’s changing, they’re scared. The doctor knows Guwon is slipping — and he’s planning to use Teach next. Not because he cares about Guwon’s well-being, but because he needs a leash strong enough to keep him tame.
So no — Guwon isn’t just a tragic character. He’s a ticking time bomb with a heart that’s just barely starting to beat. And the people around him? They’re not ready for what happens when he finally feels everything they’ve tried to suppress.
Man, Guwon just showed us what being a ‘leader’ really means — cold, brutal, but somehow heartbreaking. Watching Teach’s face while that happened? Pure heartbreak. This town’s got no mercy, and Guwon’s ready to remind everyone who’s boss. Can’t wait to see how Teach handles all this.
I was so embarrassed I had to put my phone down and take a nap.
I’ve been thinking of the outcomes of this story and honestly, I don’t see a classic happy ending for Ian. I think the most believable and powerful ending would be an open one — where Ian chooses to walk away. Not out of hate or rejection, but because he finally needs space to exist for himself.
Jo cares deeply, but we can see him slipping into something more obsessive — trying to understand Ian, to ‘fix’ him, to be the person who saves him. And while his feelings might be genuine, that kind of love can become another kind of pressure. Another gaze Ian has to live under.
Ian has never really belonged to himself. He’s always been someone else’s — the gang’s, TJ’s, even now Jo’s. If he chooses solitude, it might be the first time he makes a choice that’s truly his. Not survival. Not submission. Just… freedom.
Yes, it would be sad. But it wouldn’t be hopeless. It would mean Ian finally taking control of his story. And sometimes, love isn’t enough — especially for someone who doesn’t yet know how to love themselves.
It wouldn’t be a tragic ending. It would be a quiet one. Like footsteps in wet sand that slowly fade, but prove someone was there.
This is an incredibly disturbing and intense story that dives into complex themes of revenge, trauma, and the psychological impact of abuse. While the violence depicted is hard to digest and can be triggering, it’s important to remember that the author seems to be exploring these dark elements to provoke thought about the consequences of unchecked pain and manipulation.
It’s not a story meant to be enjoyed in the traditional sense, but rather one that challenges readers to reflect on the cycles of abuse and how they shape people. It’s essential to approach this manhwa with awareness, acknowledging the emotional depth it attempts to present, even though it’s wrapped in a very violent narrative.
The depiction of Juyeon, as someone who is both a victim and a perpetrator, raises uncomfortable questions about how power dynamics, beauty privilege, and past traumas influence human behavior. The focus on Juyeon’s attractiveness and his actions might be a tool used to emphasize the dissonance between how we perceive individuals based on external factors and the darkness they might harbor inside.
If you’re reading this, please keep in mind that it’s an exploration of human suffering and the lengths people can go to when consumed by revenge, but also a reflection of the importance of empathy, boundaries, and mental health. Everyone deserves healing, even the most broken of characters.
At the heart of this story is Ian’s journey—his struggle for freedom (the need to escape his past and gain control over his own life), healing (the emotional recovery from past trauma), and self-identity (figuring out who he truly is, beyond his circumstances). As he fights to break free from the shadows of his past, the story becomes a testament to the power of self-discovery and change.
Jo enters as a source of hope, but the deeper he gets involved, the more he risks losing himself in Ian’s world. TJ, a significant part of Ian’s history, represents a connection he must ultimately sever in order to truly find peace. In the end, it’s Ian’s growth (his development as a person, emotionally and mentally) that anchors this entire narrative, making it a gripping and transformative journey.
Before I dive into the theory, let me quickly explain who these two figures are:
•Sisyphus is a character from Greek mythology who was condemned by the gods to push a giant boulder up a hill for eternity. Every time he neared the top, it would roll back down. It was a punishment meant to symbolize hopeless, endless struggle. But in modern philosophy (especially Camus), Sisyphus becomes a metaphor for the human condition — and the idea that continuing to struggle, even in absurdity, is a form of defiance and meaning.
•Frankenstein’s creature (not “Frankenstein” himself — that’s the doctor) is a man-made being, created from the body parts of corpses, brought to life but rejected by society. He’s not evil by nature — he’s lost, lonely, and desperate to be understood. His tragedy is that he was made human-like, but was never allowed to be human.
Now — onto Guwon.
⸻
Guwon is what happens after the myth ends.
He’s not Sisyphus rolling the stone anymore. He’s the man who somehow got to the top of the hill — maybe through death, suffering, or by sheer force of will. But now that he’s free… he has no idea how to exist. He doesn’t sleep like a human. He doesn’t process emotions like a human. He watches over the town like it’s all he has — because it is. It’s no longer a boulder he’s pushing — it’s a village he has to keep from falling apart.
And just like Frankenstein’s creature, Guwon is scarred — physically and emotionally. He bears visible marks (a cut throat, injured feet) that suggest repeated violence, maybe even suicide attempts. Not just once — multiple times. And that’s key: Guwon isn’t just a man with a past. He’s a man who has died before. Maybe not literally. But something in him was erased, stitched back together, and set loose into a world he doesn’t recognize.
⸻
He exists in survival mode. Not living — surviving.
His need to stay awake, to stay in control, is classic trauma behavior. “If I fall asleep, what if something happens?” That’s not a leader’s mindset — that’s a survivor’s. Someone who thinks rest is dangerous. Someone who’s been punished for letting his guard down.
He says it himself: “This town… it’s mine to protect.” That’s his identity now. Not a man, not a lover, not even a person — just a protector. He’s repeating the same loop as Sisyphus, but voluntarily this time. Because it’s all he knows.
⸻
And then comes Teach.
Teach doesn’t “save” Guwon. That would be too simple. What he does is more dangerous: he makes Guwon feel. Seen. Accepted. Not just as a protector or a leader, but as a person. When Guwon finally falls asleep and wakes up peacefully — for the first time in his life — that’s not just rest. That’s a spiritual turning point. It’s his first real step toward being alive.
He even says it outright: “You know how people sleep… and wake up like it’s just part of life? I’ve never really done that. This… is the first time.”
⸻
So here’s the theory:
Guwon is the product of a collapsed myth and a failed creation. He’s what happens when you survive your punishment but don’t know how to live after it. He’s the ghost of Sisyphus and the body of Frankenstein’s creature — constantly torn between duty and emotion, control and vulnerability, existence and meaning.
This isn’t a story about grand myths. It’s about what happens after. After the gods stop watching. After the creator abandons his work. After you’ve failed, died, been stitched back together — and you’re still here.
It’s about how terrifying — and beautiful — it is to try to live when no one ever taught you how.
And maybe that’s what this manhwa is really about.
So here’s the breakdown of “Cozy Obsession” and how everything fits together:
The story in the world of Silence (the omegaverse) is actually the real world, where Huimin and Iheon’s lives were filled with abuse and a tragic ending. The main character, Huimin, wished for a different reality, one where he and Iheon never fell in love but just stayed friends. This wish became real and formed a fictional world.
In this fictional world, the male lead (ML), Iheon, is resurrected. He realizes that the fake story is bound to end, and once it does, everything in it will disappear, including him and Huimin. In an effort to help Huimin remember their true story and return to reality, Iheon leaves the book titled “Silence” for Huimin to find.
This book acts as a trigger, pushing Huimin back in time to their real world. When he returns, he wakes up thinking that the real world is just a story, but he’s wrong — this reality is real, and he’s forgotten everything that happened in the fake world. This marks the beginning of a new timeline.
In the latest chapters, we see how Huimin and Iheon are caught in this cycle of memory loss and time travel, and the story plays out both backwards and forwards. As the truth unravels, Huimin and Iheon will have to confront the past and face the consequences of their desires.
Hope that clears up the confusion! Let me know if anything’s still unclear.
Spectacular give me fourteen of them right now . I actually forgot this story what a reward !
Before I dive into the theory, let me quickly explain who these two figures are:
•Sisyphus is a character from Greek mythology who was condemned by the gods to push a giant boulder up a hill for eternity. Every time he neared the top, it would roll back down. It was a punishment meant to symbolize hopeless, endless struggle. But in modern philosophy (especially Camus), Sisyphus becomes a metaphor for the human condition — and the idea that continuing to struggle, even in absurdity, is a form of defiance and meaning.
•Frankenstein’s creature (not “Frankenstein” himself — that’s the doctor) is a man-made being, created from the body parts of corpses, brought to life but rejected by society. He’s not evil by nature — he’s lost, lonely, and desperate to be understood. His tragedy is that he was made human-like, but was never allowed to be human.
Now — onto Guwon.
⸻
Guwon is what happens after the myth ends.
He’s not Sisyphus rolling the stone anymore. He’s the man who somehow got to the top of the hill — maybe through death, suffering, or by sheer force of will. But now that he’s free… he has no idea how to exist. He doesn’t sleep like a human. He doesn’t process emotions like a human. He watches over the town like it’s all he has — because it is. It’s no longer a boulder he’s pushing — it’s a village he has to keep from falling apart.
And just like Frankenstein’s creature, Guwon is scarred — physically and emotionally. He bears visible marks (a cut throat, injured feet) that suggest repeated violence, maybe even suicide attempts. Not just once — multiple times. And that’s key: Guwon isn’t just a man with a past. He’s a man who has died before. Maybe not literally. But something in him was erased, stitched back together, and set loose into a world he doesn’t recognize.
⸻
He exists in survival mode. Not living — surviving.
His need to stay awake, to stay in control, is classic trauma behavior. “If I fall asleep, what if something happens?” That’s not a leader’s mindset — that’s a survivor’s. Someone who thinks rest is dangerous. Someone who’s been punished for letting his guard down.
He says it himself: “This town… it’s mine to protect.” That’s his identity now. Not a man, not a lover, not even a person — just a protector. He’s repeating the same loop as Sisyphus, but voluntarily this time. Because it’s all he knows.
⸻
And then comes Teach.
Teach doesn’t “save” Guwon. That would be too simple. What he does is more dangerous: he makes Guwon feel. Seen. Accepted. Not just as a protector or a leader, but as a person. When Guwon finally falls asleep and wakes up peacefully — for the first time in his life — that’s not just rest. That’s a spiritual turning point. It’s his first real step toward being alive.
He even says it outright: “You know how people sleep… and wake up like it’s just part of life? I’ve never really done that. This… is the first time.”
⸻
So here’s the theory:
Guwon is the product of a collapsed myth and a failed creation. He’s what happens when you survive your punishment but don’t know how to live after it. He’s the ghost of Sisyphus and the body of Frankenstein’s creature — constantly torn between duty and emotion, control and vulnerability, existence and meaning.
This isn’t a story about grand myths. It’s about what happens after. After the gods stop watching. After the creator abandons his work. After you’ve failed, died, been stitched back together — and you’re still here.
It’s about how terrifying — and beautiful — it is to try to live when no one ever taught you how.
And maybe that’s what this manhwa is really about.
Okay, so after everything we’ve seen in the recent chapters, I’ve been thinking about the possible direction of the story, and here’s a theory that might make sense.
What if Iheon isn’t just the manipulative character we thought he was, but actually the creator of this world? Think about it: Iheon has this unpredictable power over everything and everyone, and we’ve seen him control so many situations. But what if this control isn’t just about power over Huimin? What if Iheon himself created this world, consciously or unconsciously, as a way to escape his own emotional struggles and desires? Maybe he’s a character who’s trapped in the story he created for himself, just like how Huimin is caught in this love-hate relationship with him.
Now, on the other hand, Huimin, who seems like the passive one at first, might actually be starting to realize that he isn’t just some victim in Iheon’s game. As the story progresses, Huimin could start to wake up to the fact that he’s not just stuck in this world—he has the power to change things.
What if, in the end, both of them realize that they are the creators of this world, but they’ve been stuck in this cycle of manipulation and control? Maybe they both have to break free from the roles they’ve been playing all along. In this theory, it would be about their mutual liberation—both of them realizing that they’ve been writing each other’s stories, and that they have the power to rewrite them.
So in a way, the story could be about both characters learning to take control of their own destinies, and not just being puppets of fate or the creator. It’s not just about who’s in charge, but about both of them discovering that they have the power to create their own futures.
Just a thought, but I think this could be a pretty interesting way for the story to go!
I love the subtle detail with Mokhwa’s eyes. Normally, his eyes are black, reflecting his almost emotionless, void-like nature. But when he feels strong emotions, especially anger or frustration, they turn into a dull gray—this shift shows that even though he tries to hide his emotions, they still seep through and disrupt his cold exterior. On the other hand, Nakwon’s eyes reflect his lively and mischievous personality. When he’s in a good mood, they’re sharp and full of energy, but when he’s angry or upset, they lose their brightness, dulling just a bit, as if showing how out of place negativity is in his usually cheerful nature.