As our story draws to an end, our characters must face the consequences of their actions and either own up or double down on excuses. Because while each of us can only play with the hand we’re dealt, we’re still responsible for our own choices, and we’re not in the game alone — unless we choose to be.
EPISODES 15-16
Prosecutor Ryu interrogates Ro-woom, but she refuses to answer his questions. To his credit, he does seem to be trying to help her in his own way. The problem is that his way isn’t helpful without concrete evidence that 1) Ro-woom didn’t kill Kyung-ja and 2) Jay was the mastermind all along. Ro-woom doesn’t have this evidence, but she does have a plan to get it.
The rooftop kiss was a distraction so she could slip Mu-young the key to a safe where she stashed the revolver. While Ro-woom waits out the requisite hours until prosecution can get a warrant issued, Mu-young collects the revolver and the Jeokmok Kids (since Jay has sent his messenger to kill them and thus destroy Ro-woom’s support system), and hatches a plan to break Ro-woom out.
First, he has Ro-woom name Da-jung and Nasa as her accomplices so they’ll be summoned for questioning. This puts them, Mu-young, Ro-woom, and Reporter Woo all under the same roof. Mu-young recycles Ro-woom’s key-smuggling tactic (though he opts for a handhold instead of a kiss), and the others play their respective parts in engineering an escape so flawless, Ro-woom walks right out the front door. Da-jung and Nasa are immediately apprehended, ensuring their safety in case Jay tries sending any more hitmen. (Ringo is still unconscious, but has been secretly moved to a secure location.)
Only then do we address the big question: no, Ro-woom did not kill Kyung-ja. The two had an honest, emotional conversation about Jay — Kyung-ja admitted she always envied how effortlessly Ro-woom understood Jay, Ro-woom admitted she’d always wanted Kyung-ja’s help — and Kyung-ja gave Ro-woom access to her secret vault containing almost all the information needed to incriminate him.
Even after all that, Kyung-ja still tried to convince Jay to run away with her. “Who could love you as much as me?” she asked, even as he made her ingest debilitating drugs as a trust exercise and proceeded to strangle her to death.
Back at the police station, Da-jung readily confesses to helping Ro-woom escape. When Prosecutor Ryu warns that they’ll search her home, she hands over the keys and deadpans, “Don’t smash your way in.” She’s organized the evidence from Kyung-ja’s vault in neat, color-coded boxes for Prosecutor Ryu and his team to find. (Did I mention I love her?) She also has one request: Ro-woom will signal when the time is right — so please be there when she does.
Ro-woom and Jay agree to meet up alone, though Ro-woom brings a tracker with her (two, actually, but one was planted by Mu-young without her knowledge). Jay intends to take her away with him and start over, but Ro-woom has no intention of playing along. She’s not like him, she says, contrary to his claim. She’s learned to accept others’ understanding and empathy, but he continues to insist the world has abandoned him while actively betraying those who trusted him most.
Ro-woom bluffs that she has all the evidence to convict him, sprinkling in just enough truth to unnerve him. His caution slips, he switches on his personal phone, and Da-jung’s system automatically connects and pings the prosecutors with the final link tying Jay to his crimes.
Jay realizes almost immediately that Ro-woom has tricked him, but too late to stop it. He throttles her in a rage, screaming that he’s going to kill all her friends and make her his forever. He pulls out his gun, but at that moment Mu-young arrives and shoots him instead. Ro-woom stops Mu-young from firing a second shot as police, led by Prosecutor Ryu, swarm the scene.
Several trials ensue. Jay, having effectively burned every bridge he ever built, is sentenced to prison with little to no hope of a successful retrial. With help from Prosecutor Ryu, Mu-young’s illegal firearm use is ruled self-defense. This frees Mu-young to defend the three Jeokmok Kids in their trial. Jae-in testifies about the psychological effects Jeokmok’s torture and training had on them. Then Mu-young sets his scripted closing remarks aside in favor of an emotional plea for the judge to let the Jeokmok Kids choose their own futures, which Jeokmok denied them.
When asked, Ro-woom says she doesn’t want leniency — as a victim herself, she wants to see justice served; her victims must be no different. In the end, the Jeokmok Kids are each sentenced to less than two years in prison and commended by the public for taking responsibility for their actions.
From there, it’s happy endings all around (except for Jay, who will rot in prison and never see Ro-woom again). Ro-woom successfully sues for damages from her previous wrongful imprisonment. Navis Well-Being victims receive compensation. Mu-young reconciles with his mother. Yo-han and Jae-in make their relationship official. The Jeokmok Kids are reunited (and Da-jung smiles for I think the first time in this entire show!), Ringo fully recovers, and they all move into a new house together.
Ro-woom visits Mu-young’s dad in prison and apologizes for the fraud that ruined his life and family. She knows what it’s like to have nightmares every night, and now that she’s found peace, she hopes he’ll sleep soundly. She and Mu-young leave ramyun on her parents’ grave, and then officially close their lawyer/client contract. We end with the Jeokmok Kids bickering as they fix up the new house and Mu-young dropping by to see Ro-woom for personal reasons, not professional ones.
I really wasn’t sure what kind of conclusion Delightfully Deceitful was going to arrive at, but I have to say I’m pretty satisfied with this one. While Ro-woom’s final confrontation with Jay did feel a tad anticlimactic (for a while, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and someone to be in danger again), it also drove home what I think was the main point the show has been trying to make all along: the importance of understanding and leaning on each other for support. That only by understanding why people make certain decisions can we learn to see them for who they are instead of what they do, and then work with them to “create a better outcome,” as our characters were so fond of saying. But also that understanding is a two-way street.
That’s why my favorite parts of this finale were all about how our characters have changed each other for the better: Ro-woom asking for help, Mu-young’s boss refusing to give up on him, Yo-han coming to Nasa’s rescue, each Jeokmok Kid having someone there to pick them up upon their release, and pretty much all of Prosecutor Ryu’s interactions with Mu-young, Ro-woom, and Da-jung.
On the whole, I wouldn’t say I loved Delightfully Deceitful, but I certainly didn’t dislike it, either. And while I have some pretty big complaints (especially related to Yo-han’s characterization and underutilization), my biggest takeaway is simply that I’m glad the characters I genuinely cared about get to step into a wide-open future that is theirs to design.