I had high expectations for this drama because of the cast, the director, and especially the premise. While some…
I agree with pretty much everything you said, but my biggest issue was actually the main character and the political implications of his position.
The drama openly establishes that the ML receives extraordinary legal authority as an ERPB inspector, a position that comes with powers and protections that ordinary citizens do not have. The problem is that this position is effectively handed to him by his father-in-law, a powerful politician whose motivation is deeply personal revenge for his daughter's death.
That means we're not just talking about favoritism. We're talking about a politician placing his own son-in-law into a powerful government role while knowing that he has a personal vendetta against the people he will be targeting.
What made it even harder for me to accept was the scene where the ML attempts to run over a student with his car. Regardless of how evil that student is, that goes far beyond professional misconduct. Yet the story never seriously addresses the consequences because the ML continues operating under the protection of the same political system that put him there in the first place.
The show spends a lot of time criticizing corruption, abuse of power, and people who believe they are above the law. But when the heroes benefit from political connections, nepotism, and extraordinary legal immunity, the narrative barely questions it.
By the end, it felt less like a story about justice and more like a fantasy where a powerful politician uses the machinery of the state to empower his grieving son-in-law to pursue personal revenge. The villains are held accountable, but the questionable concentration of power at the center of the story is treated as completely justified because the protagonists are "the good guys."
That's what prevented me from fully buying into the drama's message. A system that grants immense authority through nepotism and then shields its holder from accountability would be dangerous regardless of who is using it.
The ERPB is essentially a small group of unelected individuals deciding who deserves punishment, what punishment they deserve, and then carrying it out themselves. That's not justice; that's vigilantism.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
The ERPB is essentially a small group of unelected individuals deciding who deserves punishment, what punishment they deserve, and then carrying it out themselves. That's not justice; that's vigilantism.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
The ERPB is essentially a small group of unelected individuals deciding who deserves punishment, what punishment they deserve, and then carrying it out themselves. That's not justice; that's vigilantism.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
I feel like you maybe didn’t understand the message of the drama and that you were not up-to-date with Korean…
I understand your point, and I actually agree with part of it. Students who commit serious crimes such as drug dealing, violent bullying, assault, extortion, or gang activity should face serious consequences. Being a minor should not be a free pass for criminal behavior.
However, my problem with the drama is not that bad students are punished. My problem is who is doing the punishing and how they are doing it.
The ERPB is essentially a small group of unelected individuals deciding who deserves punishment, what punishment they deserve, and then carrying it out themselves. That's not justice; that's vigilantism.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
So my criticism isn't that the show targets bad students. It's that it normalizes the idea that human rights, due process, and legal accountability can be ignored as long as the people being targeted are unpopular. Once you accept that principle, the real question becomes: who gets to decide who's a villain?
I agree with everything that you stated. I started this drama with high expectations because I usually enjoy this…
Calling minor students Monsters to justify there human right volition, and everyone is just happily clapping, or put to less effort to stop them, Ep 3 shows that there new law , give ML immunity against murdering minor kids in school That just pure dictatorship or fascism promotion
Despite Guo Jing’s dedication to his work, his methods are seen as unnecessary, and his pursuit of Huang Rong only deepens his conflict with his superior, who disapproves of both his professional approach and personal life
Why they have any right to say anything about his personal life Are they doctor or gossip aunties
Yes, I use ChatGPT to translate and polish my reviews in English. I write my reviews in my native language first, and the opinions are 100% mine. AI only helps with the English wording and grammar.
Journalism and Kim Se Ui don't belong in the same sentence. He was kicked out of MBC news and condemned by journalists…
Sorry if my comment gave the wrong impression. I am not defending anyone involved in this case, and I don't even know the person being discussed.
If the allegations were knowingly fabricated and spread despite evidence showing they were false, then I have no issue with legal consequences for deliberate defamation. Lying about someone, damaging their reputation, and profiting from false accusations is not something I support.
My comment was aimed at a broader concern about how defamation laws can sometimes be used by wealthy celebrities or powerful figures to intimidate critics, journalists, or ordinary people. That concern exists independently of whether the accused person in this specific case is guilty or innocent.
So my point was not "people should be free to lie." My point was that defamation laws should punish intentional falsehoods while also protecting legitimate criticism, reporting, and public discussion. Based on the statement you quoted, if the police can prove the suspect knowingly spread false information to defame someone, then that would be a completely different issue from someone expressing an opinion or raising concerns in good faith.
I must be reading you wrong. Are you defending the people that made up it up? you believe in freedom to lie cheat…
Sorry if my comment gave the wrong impression. I am not defending anyone involved in this case, and I don't even know the person being discussed.
If the allegations were knowingly fabricated and spread despite evidence showing they were false, then I have no issue with legal consequences for deliberate defamation. Lying about someone, damaging their reputation, and profiting from false accusations is not something I support.
My comment was aimed at a broader concern about how defamation laws can sometimes be used by wealthy celebrities or powerful figures to intimidate critics, journalists, or ordinary people. That concern exists independently of whether the accused person in this specific case is guilty or innocent.
So my point was not "people should be free to lie." My point was that defamation laws should punish intentional falsehoods while also protecting legitimate criticism, reporting, and public discussion. Based on the statement you quoted, if the police can prove the suspect knowingly spread false information to defame someone, then that would be a completely different issue from someone expressing an opinion or raising concerns in good faith.
""She's not biologically related.""He is in a younger body.""He isn't technically her…
"Only raised her" isn't the defense you think it is. If anything, it makes the situation worse. A parent-child relationship is defined by far more than biology. If you raise a child as your own daughter, change her diapers, teach her, protect her, and call yourself her father for years, then she is your daughter in every meaningful sense.
The "younger body" argument doesn't help either. His body may be younger, but his mind, memories, and identity are still those of the same older man. The soul and consciousness are the same. He's not suddenly a different person because he looks younger.
And when you say South Korea would never go that far, I have to disagree. Korean media has already explored incest and incest-adjacent themes many times. People keep bringing up the "they aren't biologically related" excuse, but that's exactly what it is—an excuse used to justify a relationship that would otherwise be viewed as unacceptable.
For example, *Oldboy* didn't even use the "not blood-related" loophole. It literally involved a biological father and daughter unknowingly entering into a sexual relationship. The entire point was to shock and horrify the audience. So it's simply not true that Korean media would never touch incest-related subjects.
My issue isn't limited to biological incest either. The "not biologically related" defense completely misses the point. If two people were raised as father and daughter, or as brother and sister, then suddenly turning that relationship into romance or sexual attraction is still disturbing to many viewers. The issue isn't just shared DNA—it's the family bond and the roles they occupied in each other's lives.
And this is exactly why I dislike these storylines. Real-life stepfathers, stepmothers, adoptive parents, foster parents, and guardians should be able to raise children without anyone questioning their motives. Most are loving parents who would never see their children as romantic or sexual prospects.
But when fiction keeps presenting "parent raises child and later becomes the love interest" as a romantic plot, it blurs a boundary that many people consider fundamental. A child should be able to trust that a parent figure is caring for them because they are family, not because they might someday become a romantic partner.
So no, "they're not biologically related" doesn't magically make it acceptable. If someone spent years acting as a parent, guardian, or sibling figure, many people will continue to see that relationship as fundamentally familial. The fact that there is no shared DNA doesn't erase the parent-child dynamic that already existed.
what disgusting message i stopped watching after episode 7
I find SML evil for playing victim card while he did what he did willingly Just because he wanted his father's money he become a obedient son, then goes on to blame everyone else not his greed.
The drama openly establishes that the ML receives extraordinary legal authority as an ERPB inspector, a position that comes with powers and protections that ordinary citizens do not have. The problem is that this position is effectively handed to him by his father-in-law, a powerful politician whose motivation is deeply personal revenge for his daughter's death.
That means we're not just talking about favoritism. We're talking about a politician placing his own son-in-law into a powerful government role while knowing that he has a personal vendetta against the people he will be targeting.
What made it even harder for me to accept was the scene where the ML attempts to run over a student with his car. Regardless of how evil that student is, that goes far beyond professional misconduct. Yet the story never seriously addresses the consequences because the ML continues operating under the protection of the same political system that put him there in the first place.
The show spends a lot of time criticizing corruption, abuse of power, and people who believe they are above the law. But when the heroes benefit from political connections, nepotism, and extraordinary legal immunity, the narrative barely questions it.
By the end, it felt less like a story about justice and more like a fantasy where a powerful politician uses the machinery of the state to empower his grieving son-in-law to pursue personal revenge. The villains are held accountable, but the questionable concentration of power at the center of the story is treated as completely justified because the protagonists are "the good guys."
That's what prevented me from fully buying into the drama's message. A system that grants immense authority through nepotism and then shields its holder from accountability would be dangerous regardless of who is using it.
a nepo son in law got law immunity so he can kill...
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
However, my problem with the drama is not that bad students are punished. My problem is who is doing the punishing and how they are doing it.
The ERPB is essentially a small group of unelected individuals deciding who deserves punishment, what punishment they deserve, and then carrying it out themselves. That's not justice; that's vigilantism.
The main character is portrayed as someone carrying personal trauma from the death of his lover, who was killed by a student. That alone raises questions about whether he can make impartial decisions. Why should one man with a personal grudge against delinquent students be trusted to judge and punish minors?
And who decides which teenager should be treated as an adult? In a democracy, that decision is supposed to be made through courts, laws, and due process—not by a government task force acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The show also gives the main character extraordinary powers. He is an ex-special forces operative who routinely beats students, operates with legal immunity, and is protected by political connections. His father-in-law uses his government position to place him in the role and shield him from consequences. That looks less like justice and more like nepotism and abuse of authority.
What happens if he makes a mistake? What if he severely injures or even kills an innocent student? If he has immunity from the law, who holds him accountable?
Even when the targets are genuinely bad students, physical violence and extrajudicial punishment are still far beyond what most democratic societies consider acceptable. A student selling drugs should be arrested and prosecuted, not beaten up by a government-sponsored vigilante.
The show also seems uninterested in addressing the underlying causes of school violence, bullying, or youth crime. Instead, it presents violence as a satisfying solution. Episode 3 especially gives the impression that if the results are desirable, the methods don't matter.
That's what many people find troubling. The message starts to resemble: "The system is broken, therefore we need a strongman above the law to fix it." Historically, that kind of thinking is associated with authoritarianism, not democracy.
So my criticism isn't that the show targets bad students. It's that it normalizes the idea that human rights, due process, and legal accountability can be ignored as long as the people being targeted are unpopular. Once you accept that principle, the real question becomes: who gets to decide who's a villain?
Ep 3 shows that there new law , give ML immunity against murdering minor kids in school
That just pure dictatorship or fascism promotion
Why they have any right to say anything about his personal life
Are they doctor or gossip aunties
I am not song hye kyo or gong Yoo 😭
it can be edited and rating can be changed in future...
If the allegations were knowingly fabricated and spread despite evidence showing they were false, then I have no issue with legal consequences for deliberate defamation. Lying about someone, damaging their reputation, and profiting from false accusations is not something I support.
My comment was aimed at a broader concern about how defamation laws can sometimes be used by wealthy celebrities or powerful figures to intimidate critics, journalists, or ordinary people. That concern exists independently of whether the accused person in this specific case is guilty or innocent.
So my point was not "people should be free to lie." My point was that defamation laws should punish intentional falsehoods while also protecting legitimate criticism, reporting, and public discussion. Based on the statement you quoted, if the police can prove the suspect knowingly spread false information to defame someone, then that would be a completely different issue from someone expressing an opinion or raising concerns in good faith.
If the allegations were knowingly fabricated and spread despite evidence showing they were false, then I have no issue with legal consequences for deliberate defamation. Lying about someone, damaging their reputation, and profiting from false accusations is not something I support.
My comment was aimed at a broader concern about how defamation laws can sometimes be used by wealthy celebrities or powerful figures to intimidate critics, journalists, or ordinary people. That concern exists independently of whether the accused person in this specific case is guilty or innocent.
So my point was not "people should be free to lie." My point was that defamation laws should punish intentional falsehoods while also protecting legitimate criticism, reporting, and public discussion. Based on the statement you quoted, if the police can prove the suspect knowingly spread false information to defame someone, then that would be a completely different issue from someone expressing an opinion or raising concerns in good faith.
The "younger body" argument doesn't help either. His body may be younger, but his mind, memories, and identity are still those of the same older man. The soul and consciousness are the same. He's not suddenly a different person because he looks younger.
And when you say South Korea would never go that far, I have to disagree. Korean media has already explored incest and incest-adjacent themes many times. People keep bringing up the "they aren't biologically related" excuse, but that's exactly what it is—an excuse used to justify a relationship that would otherwise be viewed as unacceptable.
For example, *Oldboy* didn't even use the "not blood-related" loophole. It literally involved a biological father and daughter unknowingly entering into a sexual relationship. The entire point was to shock and horrify the audience. So it's simply not true that Korean media would never touch incest-related subjects.
My issue isn't limited to biological incest either. The "not biologically related" defense completely misses the point. If two people were raised as father and daughter, or as brother and sister, then suddenly turning that relationship into romance or sexual attraction is still disturbing to many viewers. The issue isn't just shared DNA—it's the family bond and the roles they occupied in each other's lives.
And this is exactly why I dislike these storylines. Real-life stepfathers, stepmothers, adoptive parents, foster parents, and guardians should be able to raise children without anyone questioning their motives. Most are loving parents who would never see their children as romantic or sexual prospects.
But when fiction keeps presenting "parent raises child and later becomes the love interest" as a romantic plot, it blurs a boundary that many people consider fundamental. A child should be able to trust that a parent figure is caring for them because they are family, not because they might someday become a romantic partner.
So no, "they're not biologically related" doesn't magically make it acceptable. If someone spent years acting as a parent, guardian, or sibling figure, many people will continue to see that relationship as fundamentally familial. The fact that there is no shared DNA doesn't erase the parent-child dynamic that already existed.
its same author so they are making two dramas from same story
Just because he wanted his father's money he become a obedient son, then goes on to blame everyone else not his greed.