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My Demon: Episodes 3-4
by alathe
The first rule of being a demonic bodyguard? Shirk every responsibility. The second rule? Try not to catch on fire. The third rule? Never fall in — oops, couldn’t hear you over the sound of all this convenient denial! Despite their best efforts to be prickly and emotionally unavailable, our leads keep getting thrown together in a series of delightful ways — and with peril brewing, it’s only a matter of time before our demon is forced to actually be helpful.
EPISODES 3-4
With a mysterious, rash-afflicted assassin dogging her footsteps, and acid flying at all intervals, Do-hee hits on a mutually beneficial deal with the man she is grudgingly willing to admit might be a demon. If he becomes her bodyguard, he can protect his precious tattoo! Plus, well, her. Alas, pride goeth before the fall, and Gu-won refuses to be her protector. What does she think he is — a Pokemon? I’ll walk you to the door, he adds, in a very dignified, non-bodyguardly fashion.
Do-hee continues to pester, once again threatening Gu-won with the dreaded Pororo cover-up tattoo… but it’s not very effective. Gu-won is content to wait out the problem. He’s reasonably convinced they can replicate the exact circumstances of the tattoo-transfer by diving into water on the next full moon. For now, he’s going to relax, smirk, enjoy his fussy hand-brewed coffee, and — wait, does anyone smell burning? Ah. That’s him. Soon, Gu-won, his bumbling butler, and the perpetually armed dancer who thinks he’s cute are all blowing ineffectually on his smoldering index finger.
With an ice bucket behind his back, and his whole hand trying very hard to set itself ablaze, Gu-won returns to Do-hee, offering to give the bodyguard thing a go… provided she help him in return. If he doesn’t make a deal soon, his future’s looking awfully fiery. Luckily, there’s no shortage of desperate humans. Soon, he finds a mother whose nine-year-old child is dying of cancer. Do-hee watches with growing disgust as Gu-won speedruns through his deal-with-the-devil shtick, convincing the woman to sign away her soul — and save her child — in record time. The flames recede. The child wakes. Gu-won, satisfied with a job well done, declares it’s time for cake.
… Only to be met with a hard look from our heroine. As far as she’s concerned, he’s a parasite, exploiting people’s grief. Well, she, for one, won’t be party to it! Gu-won, being a very unflappable demon, and above such pesky moral sophistry, is not bothered by this. Not one whit. Humans, he grunts half-intelligibly through a mouthful of cake, are so greedy! Still, for absolutely no reason whatsoever, he pays a visit to the child — whose only wish is that her parents won’t suffer for her sake. Oh. Oh dear.
Thus, after no moral turmoil whatsoever, Gu-won reappears at Do-hee’s side, offering an umbrella. The two stand together in the rain: Do-hee bone-dry; our demon getting his jacket wet. His justification for returning? Well, his life was so boringly peaceful till now. Do-hee’s excuse is similarly just-on-the-edge-of-plausible: it takes one scumbag to deal with another! Throughout the course of this emotionally stunted conversation, we learn how our guy became a demon. Basically, God, in need of someone to work in hell, pointed at the then-human Gu-won and said, “I choose you!” Yeah, he’s really not beating the Pokemon allegations here.
Amid banter, disaster strikes. Earlier, Do-hee had told Madam Ju that the now-dead Director Cha had tried to warn her about something important. Despite telling Do-hee not to worry, Madam Ju had looked grim — and hurriedly arranged an audit. Now, Do-hee receives an odd text from her not-quite-mother; hastily, she makes her way back. Turns out, she was right to fear the worst. When she steps into the greenhouse, Madam Ju is lying motionless. Do-hee bursts into tears, pleading with Gu-won to help, but our demon remains impassive. Even he can’t raise the dead.
The funeral is a harrowing ordeal — for Do-hee, that is. For Madam Ju’s blood relatives, it’s a party. The eldest son, NOH SUK-MIN (Kim Tae-hoon), is acting like Mirae Group has landed in his lap. (His mother let him go to jail for drunk driving, so there are some deep-seated issues there.) Meanwhile, Su-ahn is strutting about like she owns the place. Worse is the grandson, NOH DO-KYUNG (Kang Seung-ho), who sneeringly lights a cigarette in Madam Ju’s beloved greenhouse. Gu-won, seeing Do-hee look heartbroken, snaps his fingers and magics the brat into hitting the door.
Do you know, Gu-won asks Do-hee, why people wear black at funerals? It’s to prevent the soul of the deceased from recognizing anyone and following them. Do-hee is aghast. Gently, Gu-won takes her wrist, shifting her black suit to white. With surprising tact, he goes to wait by the door. Do-hee is too depressed to hope for much — but then, a butterfly very deliberately lands on her hand. Her breath catches. Thank you, she says, for finding me. If we ever get a second chance, let’s fight even harder… and love each other more dearly.
Unfortunately, even a demonic grief counselor can’t protect Do-hee from the revelations ahead. Turns out, Madam Ju died from a heart attack — with diclofenac in her system, a medication to which she was allergic. Do-hee is left reeling. She eyes each awful family member, all of whom knew about the allergy, and wonders which one is a murderer. Or were they all in on it? She’s too far gone with grief to keep her suspicions to herself. Instead, she publicly accuses them all of foul play.
There’s more. After all, what’s an upper-crust funeral without a sting-in-the-tail will? Do-hee is about to be hustled out by the security team — until Madam Ju’s legal executor tells her to stay. Because, yes indeed, she has been given ownership of Mirae Group. But there’s a catch. To inherit the company, Do-hee must register her marriage within a year of Madam Ju’s death. Outraged family members flock her, spitting vitriol. Do-hee’s response is flawless. The only way to stop me, she announces, is to kill me. Then, she approaches her demonic bodyguard. Jung Gu-won, she says, as cameras flash. Marry me. And in front of stakeholders, press, and every single person who scorned Do-hee, Gu-won utters the immortal words: I don’t want to.
So yeah, the car ride back is excruciating. Maybe it’s to do with the fact that the radio keeps unhelpfully blaring love songs. It cannot be anything to do with Do-hee, because she is personally very chill, and already totally over it. Yup. She hardly even meant to prop— uh, actually, proposal is such a strong word, no? Let’s call it an accident. She’s been tired lately. She was practically sleep-talking. Gu-won wants to stay single? That’s fine! She too intends to be forever alone!
Madam Ju left Do-hee a letter, which in her utterly unflustered state, she drops in the car. As Gu-won approaches her door to return it, he overhears a very chill, uh, rant, that makes him reconsider knocking. Quoth Do-hee: the next time he leads me on, I’ll drag him to our wedding with a tranquilizer gun! The elephant kind! As Gu-won scurries away with a whimper, Do-hee is interrupted by another guest: JU SEOK-HOON (Lee Sang-yi), the one relation of Madam Ju who might actually possess a soul. Sadly for him, he also possesses second-lead energy in abundance. He’s adamant that Do-hee come to him if she needs help.
Later, the unfortunately-named Bok-gyu gives our hero a crash course in the gentle art of bodyguarding. Rule one: never let her out of your sight. Rule two: never let your guard down. Rule three: never fall in love. Wait, is this just the tagline from classic 90s romance, The Bodyguard? Well, yes, but Do-hee’s proposal has proved utterly and definitively that movies are true. The point, Bok-gyu insists, is that people are more sincere when sleep-deprived!
Gu-won is half convinced — until Do-hee snaps that he’s the last man alive she’d marry. Of course, she’s feeling vengeful since Gu-won’s rejection made the gossip columns. It’s your name that’s the problem, she mourns in the car. Gu-won, for salvation. Just another sweet lie. You know, like love, happiness… those kind of childish myths. Wait, hold up, says our hero. Happiness? If you don’t believe in that, then why in the capitalist hell do you work so hard? Do-hee frowns. I think out of habit, she says. After my parents died, I worked to drown everything else out. As she takes a sad nap, Gu-won stares at her, moved. And keeps staring. And then, as the car behind him honks, he angrily explodes its airbag. Ah, romance!
As the day of Madam Ju’s burial dawns, Do-hee lets herself read her letter. I’ve left you alone in a den of wolves, writes Madam Ju. I know just how lonely that is — without you, I’d have drowned. I won’t have you suffer that same hell. And so, if you’re determined to take my place, you must find someone who’ll stand by your side. That’s all very well, decides Do-hee, but Madam Ju must trust her. She can manage on her own.
Doubtful. After all, there’s more going on than she knows. Firstly, there’s the assassin of a thousand faces who has his unnerving sights set on her death. His latest gambit is to approach the gang whose leader Gu-won killed. Meanwhile, lurking somewhere out there is a mysterious, leather-gloved killer who swapped Madam Ju’s painkillers with diclofenac… and all evidence points to the ever-resentful Suk-min.
You know who else’s life is hard? Gu-won! His troubles make Do-hee’s pale in comparison: after all, without his powers, our poor demon… is gradually aging at the speed of a normal human being. Woe! Misery! What if he gets, like, a wrinkle or something? No, that’s unthinkable. He’s got to recharge — meaning, he and Do-hee must schedule in some quality wrist-holding time. The two haggle with gusto. Do-hee declares that she will rescue Gu-won from the risks of eventual arthritis… once he helps her catch Madam Ju’s killer.
Glorious hijinks ensue. Gu-won blithely declares that he can find the culprit with a snap of his fingers — only for absolutely nothing to occur. Is something else up with his powers? In an effort to test them, he teleports them to a supply cupboard, where outside, Do-hee’s employees gossip. It takes serious force of denial to stay pokerfaced while pressed up close against your maybe-crush as bystanders extol the virtues of office romance… and our OTP fails miserably. It’s delightful.
None of Do-hee’s employees expected their boss to awkwardly rock up to the company dinner, but Gu-won snaps at an opportunity for some surreptitious wrist-grabbing. He’s not precisely subtle. Worse, when asked why he rejected Do-hee, his answer is nothing short of boorish. People who like pork, he says, don’t marry pigs! It’s entirely the last straw. Do-hee storms away.
Alas, this is the point at which the gang that Gu-won terrorized with a newspaper corner him, and without his powers, he’s a sitting duck. Luckily, Do-hee didn’t go far — and now, seeing him beaten and bloodied, she knows it’s time to act. Her secretary bought her a suitcase of sophisticated weaponry for this kind of threat. She has… a loud whistle! A taser that doesn’t work! And a fake gun that might just succeed in spraying tear gas! Facing down the goons, she utters the best line in an episode full of incredible lines: “I am… my bodyguard’s bodyguard!”
She reaches Gu-won in time for him to catch her by the wrist. Blood peels from his face. Shifting her into a dancer’s hold, he asks, almost tenderly, if she knows how to tango. As the lights dim, his magic takes hold. A bevy of armed criminals find themselves haplessly gyrating to the beat. Gu-won spins Do-hee forward — and a gang member goes flying. She gives a flourish, punches a guy in the nose, and lands in an elegant lift. As the two dance their way out of danger — bad guys dropping like bowling pins — we hear the eternal wisdom of The Bodyguard again. Rule one: never let her out of your sight. (Oops.) Rule two: never let your guard down. (Welp.) And rule three: never fall in love. (Uh oh, Gu-won.)
Folks, I am beside myself with glee. This show is everything I hoped for and more. You would not believe the number of times I have giggled at the screen, and squealed, “You’re so stupid! I adore you! And you’re going to be so in love!” What immediately makes this show special is how the writer takes equal joy in making you fall for both leads — and they’re just brimming with character. Gu-won is equal parts goofy, troubled, and struck through the heart with inconvenient feelings. Do-hee is a delight in designer heels; she’s all at once touchingly soulful and hilariously arrogant. And all this is cemented with some of the sharpest, wittiest dialogue I’ve ever seen.
I’m gutted they killed off Madam Ju so soon, even though I know it was necessary. That’s another strength of this show, though: they worked hard to make her relationship with Do-hee feel real and compelling, despite working with such limited time. The butterfly had me outright sobbing — it was cheesy, but they earned the right to their cheese! Very few things about this drama feel rote; it’s clear that so much enjoyment went into producing every minute of it. Granted, there are some background elements that don’t feel quite as fleshed out — Ga-young, for instance, whose only characterization is that she’s a) jealous, and b) scary — but we’re in such capable writerly hands that I trust they know where they’re going. Meanwhile? I’m going to be flashing back that Pokemon line at random points during the week, and laughing out loud.
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