Our hero faces his past in more ways than one, seeking out ugly truths and revisiting a forgotten memory. To the very end, Connection stays true to its central theme, wrapping up all its loose ends in a satisfying conclusion befitting its characters. Not a moment is wasted, and not a moment more is needed.
EPISODES 13-14
At long last, Jae-kyung learns the complete truth of Chae Kyung-tae’s death from classmate Noh Gyu-min. The fire had been accidental — Jong-soo had knocked down both Kyung-tae and the oil canister — but after Tae-jin had ushered the gang out, leaving the unconscious Kyung-tae in the burning house, Jong-soo had returned to retrieve his fallen name tag. Kyung-tae had still been breathing then, and when he’d regained consciousness briefly to beg Jong-soo for help, Jong-soo had instead clobbered him to death in order to hide his crime.
Flashback to a summer vacation, when the Audiophile club went on a trip to the beach. While Yoon-jin secretly listens in from her tent, Jae-kyung hears from Joon-seo that Jong-soo’s gang had merely paced about outside instead of rushing in to save Kyung-tae. When Joon-seo hadn’t reported the incident despite promising to, Jae-kyung went ahead and did it himself, resulting in his school suspension.
Back in the present, Jong-soo discovers Tae-jin’s distribution of the lemon meth pills behind his back. Furious at the double-crossing, he beats both Tae-jin and Sang-eui up, but Sang-eui manages to catch him off guard with a hammer. The pair make a run for it, and Tae-jin smashes Sang-eui’s phone, instructing him to delete any recordings he has and escape abroad within the next twelve hours.
The next day, Tae-jin orders a search and seizure of the freezer storage, deliberately exposing the drug lab. Then he offers Chairman Won a deal — if he permits him to take Jong-soo into custody, he’ll allow KH Group to get off scot-free. Will he choose his son, or his company? Chairman Won looks pained, but he ultimately chooses the latter, dealing a horrible blow to Jong-soo.
In the midst of the operation to capture Jin-wook, part of Chang-soo’s black box footage is finally recovered — and it clearly shows Chang-soo rolling down the window and swerving off the road without any provocation. Dismayed and disappointed, Jae-kyung cuffs the chastened Chang-soo’s wrists.
The show must go on, and team leader JUNG YEON-JOO (Yoon Sa-bong) goes undercover in the guise of a fellow stowaway. Except their cover has been blown, and Jin-wook makes a run for it, boarding a boat at another nearby port. With no other option, Jae-kyung wraps a rope around his trembling hand to steady it, then shoots Jin-wook. His bullet finds his mark, but right then, police officers show up and arrest Jae-kyung for taking drugs.
Calling out their inadmissible methods — they ran tests on a strand of hair pilfered from Jae-kyung’s locker — Yeon-joo pulls Jae-kyung aside to hear his side of the story. Despite her insistence on believing that he hadn’t taken drugs of his own free will, Jae-kyung confesses the truth of his addiction, and she entreats him to lie that he’d only been exposed to drugs recently during the undercover operation.
Before Jae-kyung is summoned for his investigation, he asks Chang-soo for his motive. Chang-soo had been sick of the endless cycle — capturing drug addicts only for more drug addicts to surface — and so he’d struck a deal with Boss Yoon to manage the drug scene. Yet Jae-kyung counters that they can’t take shortcuts. Toiling day and night, even when there is no end in sight, is the very nature of their job; it is their duty to fulfill.
During the interrogation, Chang-soo shocks everyone by confessing to drugging Jae-kyung. Submitting the deleted CCTV footage of Jae-kyung passing out in the office and Chang-soo feeding him the stolen lemon meth pill, Chang-soo lies that he’d gotten Jae-kyung addicted to throw him off his scent, so his dealings with Boss Yoon wouldn’t be discovered. “Jae-kyung has done nothing wrong,” Chang-soo insists, avoiding Jae-kyung’s gaze, even as Jae-kyung pleads that it’s not true.
Thanks to Chang-soo’s testimony, Jae-kyung’s case is wrapped up as an accidental addiction in the line of duty. He’s given a break from work to receive treatment, but Jae-kyung requests for just three more days — he must see Joon-seo’s case through to the end. The composite sketch of Yoon-ho’s murderer comes out resembling Chi-hyun, and Jae-kyung cuffs him at Yoon-ho’s funeral — where Chi-hyun is the only friend in attendance.
As for Yoon-jin, she receives a tip-off from Sang-eui with photos of the city mayor cozying up to bar hostesses. When she asks how he obtained the images, he dismisses her, claiming it’s more important to avenge Joon-seo by blocking the Pilo-dong redevelopment. To that, Yoon-jin calls out his “friendship” to Joon-seo for what it really is — an obsession. She’ll write the article, but it’s not for his sake — it’s because she can’t stand people who lick the boots of the rich, all while ineffectually cursing them out behind their backs. Just like Sang-eui.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Sang-eui orchestrates a confrontation with Tae-jin, calling Jae-kyung over as well. Gloating over finally wresting control of the Pilo-dong project, Tae-jin locks all their phones in a safe to circumvent any recordings, then smugly goads them into asking any questions they have. After all, Tae-jin’s already won; nothing can bring him down now.
Revealing that the redevelopment area is where Kyung-tae used to live and disclosing how Jong-soo murdered Kyung-tae, Jae-kyung corners Tae-jin with the inconsistency of Joon-seo’s shoes. With that, Tae-jin nonchalantly admits to the murder, without the slightest shred of remorse. Joon-seo suddenly wanted to reveal their scheme, just when Tae-jin’s plans were finally coming to fruition, so how could he let him live? An accomplice tranquilized Joon-seo before pushing him off the ninth floor while the rest were in the elevator, thereby creating an alibi for Tae-jin.
Tae-jin is so far removed from empathy and human decency that it’s actually unsettling; he demeans Joon-seo for obeying his every order, then scoffs that Joon-seo ought to be grateful for the opportunities he gave him. How dare Joon-seo attempt to rebel? Unable to bear it any longer, Jae-kyung yells Tae-jin’s name, prompting Tae-jin to turn around — and a gunshot rings out. Ahh, it’s Chekhov’s gun! With Jae-kyung’s stolen pistol, Sang-eui has shot Tae-jin point blank, ending his life instantly. Tae-jin has died at the hands of the person he looked down upon the most.
One month later, Jae-kyung visits the unrepentant Sang-eui in prison. “The revenge that you carried out in Joon-seo’s name?” Jae-kyung says. “Perhaps he may not have wanted it at all.” In response, Sang-eui tells Jae-kyung not to come visit anymore. “When I listen to the words you speak to me, I end up feeling guilty, as if I’ve let Joon-seo down. Even though I have no reason to feel that way.” Before he leaves, Sang-eui tells Jae-kyung the first half of the password that he overheard from Tae-jin — it’s Ji-yeon’s birthday. Tae-jin truly thought that little of Joon-seo.
Joon-seo’s autopsy results point to Chairman Won’s chief secretary, but the arrest seems a little too easy, as if the confession had been premeditated. Jae-kyung confronts Chairman Won, switching off his phone and smartwatch to prove he isn’t recording their conversation. The haughty chairman admits that Joon-seo had informed him of Tae-jin’s drug business and Jong-soo’s murder of Kyung-tae, but he sniffs haughtily that he’d played no part in Tae-jin’s plan.
Except Chairman Won slips up, mentioning that Tae-jin left Joon-seo’s shoes on the ninth floor to disguise it as a suicide. Jae-kyung immediately zeroes in on the discrepancy, piling the pressure on, and Chairman Won cracks. Erupting in a rage, Chairman Won admits to embellishing Tae-jin’s murder scheme, in order to protect the Keumhyung empire at all costs. But what can Jae-kyung do about it, without any evidence? To Chairman Won’s horror, Jae-kyung reveals a hidden voice recorder tucked inside his blazer. Without the chief secretary around, no one had conducted a thorough body search before letting Jae-kyung in. Chairman Won has brought about his own downfall.
Two weeks later, Keumhyung is crumbling down, while the Won father and son are sent to jail. Jae-kyung has been receiving treatment for his addiction, and he’s well on the road to recovery. At last, he and Yoon-jin receive Joon-seo’s insurance money, which they generously share with Yoon-ho’s widow, the student Hyun-woo’s family, and Ji-yeon. The latter may come as a surprise given all she’s done, but our leads extend an olive branch to her, and perhaps it’s in the spirit of what the kind and forgiving Joon-seo would have wanted.
While helping Ji-yeon move house, our Audiophile trio discover an old tape from their summer trip. Tears of nostalgia and grief well up in their eyes as they watch the footage, in which Yoon-jin asked Joon-seo what his dream was. His answer was simple: he just liked spending time with his Audiophile friends. Oh, my heart.
The trio visit the beach again, reminiscing their memories. Musing upon their high school bonds, Jae-kyung shares some wise words about friendship. If you become too fixated on it, you will end up leaving scars on each other, and once money and greed enter the picture, friendships fall apart. Turning a blind eye to one another’s misdeeds and scratching one another’s backs isn’t friendship any longer, but a mere connection.
As for our trio, they’re sure that their bond — newly reforged by Joon-seo — will forever remain a pure, innocent friendship. (Which effectively dashes poor Joo-song’s dreams of romance with Yoon-jin, LOL.) Then Joo-song recalls that they’d designated the day of the beach trip as their “friendship day” — and Joon-seo had remembered it, even years later. A significant date which forms a four-digit number? Cue lightbulb moment.
Right then and there, Jae-kyung enters Tae-jin’s half of the password, and Joo-song enters Joon-seo’s half. It’s the very last password attempt left before the account is locked forever, and — they’re in. Cue a hilarious mix of exhilaration and panic, as the friends scream excitedly over the sudden windfall while Jae-kyung yells that they need to relinquish the illegal profits to the national treasury, ha. Some things never change.
With that, our journey alongside the Audiophile club draws to an end. It’s truly a mark of good storytelling that I’d love more episodes with these characters, while simultaneously not wanting more episodes because the story’s pacing would suffer for it. Though its lightning-quick plot developments often left little breathing room for us viewers, Connection was always certain of the story it wanted to tell, and it showed in its tight narrative.
Bolstered by deft directing and compelling acting, the intricate plot unfolded in a sprawling web that connected its extensive cast together through consistent motivations and deeply human flaws. For that reason, its twists weren’t merely for shock value; rather, they were plausible revelations that offered insight into its characters. The drama laid the groundwork through subtle foreshadowing and minor details that seemingly faded into the background, only for these plot threads to return in unexpected ways. And when something did come entirely out of left field, it was the good kind of surprise — like the relatively low-stakes password reveal, to end off on a high note.
With the sheer amount of content that was packed into our finale week, it was inevitable that some details were sped through, and some comeuppances were compressed. I’ll admit I was initially taken aback at the consecutive villain monologues from both our final villains, but in hindsight, I think it makes sense. We’ve seen Jae-kyung’s observation and deduction skills throughout the show, but a detective must also be able to draw out confessions from criminals, and that’s exactly what our hero does.
Jae-kyung has always had a knack for incisive questioning, as shown through all the times he got under the villains’ skin to probe for information, and the Tae-jin and Chairman Won confessions feel like a culmination of his interrogative skills. With antagonists as crafty and capable as those two, it’d be unrealistic for them to have left conclusive evidence behind — the only way to apprehend them would be through their own admission, and that plays right into Jae-kyung’s strong suit.
I think it’s deeply interesting how several characters were motivated by a love that grew twisted, demonstrating how even respect and friendship can lead one down the wrong path. Chang-soo’s unwavering devotion to Jae-kyung made him kill a man and give a false confession to cover up the truth of Jae-kyung’s addiction, all because he believes so firmly in Jae-kyung. His last question to Jae-kyung before the interrogation — “Aren’t you going to ask me to testify favorably for you?” — felt like a final test of Jae-kyung’s integrity.
It was precisely Jae-kyung’s staunch refusal to compromise his morals that proved he truly is the upright sunbae Chang-soo has respected all these years, solidifying Chang-soo’s resolve to take the fall so that Jae-kyung can remain on the force where he belongs. It’s heartrending that Chang-soo keeps rejecting Jae-kyung’s visitations because he’s too ashamed to face him after all that he’s done, and that Jae-kyung continues requesting to visit him anyway because he still cares for his junior officer.
In a similar vein, Sang-eui’s staunch loyalty to Joon-seo was a blade that cut himself as much as it slashed others. Without Joon-seo as his anchor, Sang-eui went off the deep end, throwing his morals and his future away — all for a dead friend who would never have wanted him to ruin his own life. Sang-eui may have carried out his crusade in Joon-seo’s name, but the vengeance he sought was for his own warped sense of justice, not Joon-seo’s.
Unquestionably, the heart of the show was Ji Sung, who anchored the breakneck plot with a gravitas that affirmed Jae-kyung’s steady moral compass. Facing off against him, Kwon Yul gave a spine-chillingly phenomenal performance in his final scene, and I don’t think it’d be a stretch to say this might be one of his best works yet. Tae-jin’s complexity was subtly conveyed through his concealed condescension, and the moment when that facade finally cracked to reveal his self-centered superiority — I was transfixed by his capricious, visceral emotions.
Jong-soo’s belligerent arrogance and inferiority complex, Chi-hyun’s quiet obedience and guilty conscience, Yoon-ho’s sinister killing intent and impulsive recklessness, Sang-eui’s selfish scheming and spineless cowering, Chang-soo’s steadfast allegiance and inscrutable motivations — each actor highlighted both the key traits and distinctive nuances of their character, forming a solid supporting cast of scene-stealers. I do wish the script gave Jeon Mi-do more to work with since Yoon-jin really started falling off the grid towards the end, though I liked her morally gray character setup, as well as how she eventually grew past her hunger for money to extend a helping hand. Overall, I’d be hard-pressed to pinpoint a weak link in the cast, and that really did wonders for my immersion.
It may have taken us a long time to get here, but in a way, Joon-seo’s final wish has come true after all — everything has returned to its rightful place. Our Audiophile members have reconnected again, and the culprits behind Kyung-tae’s wrongful death have all been served their just desserts. It’s regrettable that everything was only made possible through Joon-seo’s death, but I’d like to think that he’s watching over his friends, finally at peace.
One thing I particularly liked about the show is how, despite its red herrings, the characters surrounding Jae-kyung didn’t end up betraying him. Yoon-jin never sold him out; Joo-song was a true and trustworthy friend; Chang-soo may have been corrupt, but he was always sincere towards Jae-kyung; and Yeon-joo was a reliable leader through and through. Jae-kyung is surrounded by good people, despite his efforts to distance himself from others. He may have been too late to cherish Joon-seo, but he can resolve to live on like Joon-seo would have wanted, treasuring the friends that still remain by his side.