Nine Puzzles- Episodes 3-4

Mind Games, Profiling, and a Body in the Water?

Nine Puzzles Episode 3 brings the heat—and the tension—up a notch. We’re neck-deep in psychological warfare, and the pieces of this twisted puzzle are starting to click.

The episode kicks off with I-na recovering a memory from her uncle’s murder. But even as things click into place, she’s not sure if what she remembers is real. Still, she uses it to insert herself into the ongoing investigation. Chief Hyun, desperate to quiet the press feeding frenzy around the internal probe, reluctantly lets her join the team.

When I-na shows up at Han-saem’s precinct, he’s less than thrilled. She drops the memory bomb, but he’s not buying it. They argue, he tries to pull rank, and she rolls right over him with her usual calm defiance. Even confronting Chief Hyun gets Han-saem nowhere—he’s losing allies fast.

In therapy, I-na admits she’s been profiling Han-saem to figure out if she can trust him. Dr. Lee suggests Mi-young’s murder unlocked her ability to look back, but I-na’s still cautious—she doesn't trust her own brain. And honestly, fair.

Meanwhile, the team uncovers a small but telling detail: Mi-young’s usual parking spot had been mysteriously vacated. The regular who parked there had been harassed—scratched paint, slashed tires—until he gave up the space. The killer clearly planned to use that blind spot.

I-na visits the now-empty precinct and snoops around Han-saem’s desk. She notices the paper roses he makes and starts quizzing rookie Choi San about his boss’s personality. MBTI gossip? Check. Mild flirting disguised as psychological analysis? Double check. She even admits she respects that Han-saem did his homework during her uncle’s case.

Han-saem goes back to the CCTV footage and spots something chilling: the killer was in Mi-young’s car while she was driving. He likely got in at Griffin’s parking lot—a camera-free zone—and waited until she reached home to strangle her. Han-saem doesn’t get why the killer waited. Then boom—I-na shows up, having figured it out too.

Next thing you know, she’s inviting herself to dinner at Han-saem’s mom’s house. Mrs. Kim is all smiles, I-na’s profiling under the guise of small talk, and Han-saem is fuming under the surface. She learns he used to cheer up a sick high school friend—because even our grumpy detective has a soft side.

After dinner, I-na tries to patch things up. She knows the killer is watching her and wants someone she can trust. Her idea? Let Han-saem profile her. If he can get a read on her, maybe they can finally work together.

Meanwhile, a partial fingerprint shows up on Mi-young’s car headrest—something the team missed earlier. I-na lays out her profile of the killer: clinical, grudge-fueled, targeting victims in personal, unguarded spaces. It’s all too perfect—more assassin than sadist. The rest of the team isn’t sold, but Han-saem backs her up. A shift, maybe?

Elsewhere, Sergeant Nam is cracking under guilt and books a therapy session with Dr. Lee. The second doctor sees her—curious reactions all around. Suspicion brewing?

Back to the investigation: the team digs into Mi-young’s past. She ran away as a teen and never looked back. Her dad has dementia, but Han-saem and I-na go to visit him. Naturally, she talks the whole car ride—he’s not impressed. At the nursing home, she pretends to be Mi-young and coaxes Mr. Lee into talking. He doesn’t remember Dong-hoon but has strong opinions about Mi-young’s sketchy ex-boyfriend.

Han-saem questions the cousin caregiver, who confirms: boyfriend was trash, and Mi-young wasn’t the same after she came back into town. When they search the house, they find Mi-young’s old wallet—with a photo of the boyfriend, neck tattoos and all.

Later, on the drive back, Han-saem and I-na finally have a real conversation. She reminds him she did grieve for her uncle. He admits he’ll consider her pain—if she’s innocent.

I-na then grabs drinks with Dr. Lee and wonders out loud if Dong-hoon, too, had changed in the years before his death. Her wheels are always turning.

Meanwhile, Han-saem gets intel on the tattooed ex—Kang Chi-mok. Turns out, he showed up when Griffin opened, acting proud of Mi-young’s success, then returned a month ago, demanding money. He got aggressive, claimed she owed her success to him. Mi-young refused to call the cops. She didn't want to escalate it.

Finally, the kicker: the partial fingerprint belongs to Kang Chi-mok.

Cops rush to his restaurant and home. He’s missing.

And then... one last shot. A red suitcase sinks to the bottom of a river.

End of Episode 3.

Red Suitcases, Twisted Couples, and Puzzle Piece #3

If you thought Nine Puzzles couldn’t get darker, Episode 4 says hold my suitcase—literally.

We open with a bang—Kang Chi-mok, Mi-young’s sketchy ex, is pounding on a hotel door. Moments later, someone is brutally murdered, limbs chopped up while techno music blares. The killer stuffs the body into a red suitcase and strolls off wearing Chi-mok’s clothes. Calm. Cool. Completely terrifying.

The next morning, Chi-mok is missing, and the cops are scrambling. His car is found abandoned at a rest stop. CCTV shows someone in his clothes leaving it at 3:17 a.m., gloved up and headed toward a high wall. Han-saem literally climbs it himself—scraping up his hands in the process.

At first, everyone’s convinced Chi-mok killed Mi-young and vanished. Ropes in the trunk. Suspicious timing. But I-na isn’t buying it. She profiles Chi-mok as impulsive and violent—not at all like Mi-young’s killer, who was precise and almost... surgical.

A new twist drops: Chi-mok’s credit card was used to book a room at Y Hotel, near a reservoir. Hotel staff mention complaints about loud music around 2 a.m., and the CCTV’s been wiped (love hotel policy). But the timeline fits. Han-saem investigates the area and finds tire tracks leading to—you guessed it—a red suitcase in the lake.

Inside? A dismembered body. No head. No hands. It’s grisly. I-na quickly concludes the victim was tased from behind—no signs of a struggle. This isn’t Mi-young’s killer. This is something else. And the twist? She thinks Chi-mok is the victim. Han-saem brushes her off, until a DNA test proves her right.

Meanwhile, I-na asks the housekeeper about Dong-hoon. Turns out, he was devastated when I-na was orphaned—he quit the force soon after. Later, during therapy, I-na wonders why she didn’t act when she saw Dong-hoon’s killer. Guilt’s eating her alive.

The case moves forward. Chi-mok got a call at 9:40 p.m. near his house—the setup point. I-na watches his wife’s interrogation and clocks how fast she denied knowing Mi-young. Suspicious much?

I-na pays Seo Yang-hee a visit. She’s her usual mix of charm and blunt honesty. The two bond over music, coffee, and—yep—childhood trauma. Yang-hee reveals she’s an orphan who never had her own space. She had to share a room with her grandmother and sister, both of whom died in a house fire. She wanted space. She needed space. And Chi-mok didn’t get that.

Back at the precinct, I-na drops her latest theory: someone used the rest stop footage to misdirect the cops. The real killer wanted Chi-mok out of their life, maybe permanently. Her superior catches on fast—Yang-hee fits. She’s emotionally flat, detail-oriented, and clearly tired of her husband.

Han-saem finds more cracks. An Uber driver caught video of Chi-mok heading home—contradicting Yang-hee’s timeline. I-na tries to talk to Han-saem but he’s ignoring her... so she breaks into his apartment. Classic I-na. She points out Yang-hee’s eerie lack of emotion about her husband’s death. Han-saem throws it back: I-na wasn’t emotional when her uncle died either. Touché.

Still, he brings Yang-hee in. She immediately blames someone else—Roh Jae-wook, the man she was having an affair with. Han-saem questions him next. Jae-wook’s got scrapes on his hands. Busted.

I-na and Han-saem run a psychological pincer move—each interrogating one half of the twisted duo.

I-na jokes around with Yang-hee until she drops a bomb: she owns the same kind of red suitcase used in the murder. When I-na casually asks where she got it, Yang-hee’s smile falters. Gotcha.

Meanwhile, Han-saem tells Jae-wook that Yang-hee’s “friend” from childhood took the blame for her family’s death... and vanished. Suddenly, Jae-wook is terrified. Han-saem implies Yang-hee might do the same to him. Jae-wook breaks, confesses everything, and leads them to Chi-mok’s head.

With Chi-mok now officially dead—and painted as Mi-young’s killer—the media storm dies down. Everyone breathes a little easier. I-na even brings everyone matching baseball caps. Cute, right? Except… she seems fixated on something: the cap reminds her of the man she saw the night of her uncle’s murder.

She quietly tells Han-saem, “Chi-mok didn’t kill Mi-young.” He’s listening now.

Episode 4 closes with I-na having dinner with Dr. Lee. She wonders aloud: could she be as manipulative as Yang-hee? Dr. Lee reassures her—she’s not hiding. She’s just searching.

Then, the third puzzle piece arrives: a dismembered man with an armband, surrounded by children.

New piece. New questions. And the game continues.

DramaZen's Opinion

Killer Psychology and Red Suitcase Madness

Okay, Nine Puzzles is officially my new obsession. Episodes 3 and 4 had me yelling at the screen, gasping at every twist, and weirdly shipping two people who may or may not be trying to out-profile each other.

First off—Chi-mok. We thought he killed Mi-young, then we thought he faked his death, and now… he’s chopped up in a suitcase?! The red suitcase reveal was pure nightmare fuel, and the fact that his own wife might’ve done it for personal space? Unhinged. Incredible.

I-na is in full profiler mode, breaking into Han-saem’s apartment like it’s totally normal behavior. Their dynamic? Still chef’s kiss. He’s annoyed. She’s chaotic. And somehow they make a perfect crime-solving duo.

Also, the fact that the show had me sympathizing with a murderess because she never had her own room as a kid?? What is this wizardry??

And let’s not forget: another puzzle piece has landed. This serial killer isn’t done, and I-na’s memories are cracking open like eggs under pressure. I don’t know where this is headed—but I am all in. 🧩🔥