No Tail to Tell- Episodes 3-4
When Fate Gets Petty and Past Sins Come Knocking
Episode 3 of No Tail to Tell leans hard into emotional tension and chaos, and honestly, it felt like the drama saying, “You thought the rules were clear? Think again.”
The episode opens with Woo-seok walking away, firmly refusing Si-yeol’s help. That moment already sets the tone: pride, guilt, and unresolved feelings are doing a lot of heavy lifting here. At the same time, trouble is brewing overseas. Thames FC is kicked out of the championship due to accounting fraud, and instead of letting Si-yeol transfer, they want him stuck in the second division. His agent Yeon-su rushes to London to renegotiate, but Si-yeol hesitates, it’s his grandmother’s death anniversary.
What really got to me was learning that Woo-seok has been the one taking care of her grave all these years. He’s been visiting every year, quietly honoring her memory. It’s such a soft, human detail, and it made their complicated friendship hurt even more. Woo-seok encourages Si-yeol to skip the meeting and visit the grave instead, and for a moment, it feels like they might finally be on the same page.
They do talk things out, sort of. Woo-seok admits he doesn’t want any favors because he wouldn’t be able to look Si-yeol in the eye afterward. He’s also genuinely worried about Si-yeol’s career. Then, of course, fate intervenes in the form of Eun-ho’s business card, because this show never lets emotions settle for too long.
Si-yeol decides to make a wish, and Eun-ho agrees, at an absurd price, to manipulate the Thames FC chairman into approving his transfer. Feeling hopeful, Woo-seok finally considers making a wish of his own, only for Eun-ho to shut him down immediately. He can’t afford her. She also refuses to let Si-yeol wish on Woo-seok’s behalf, since that would count as a good deed. That’s where things go sideways.
Si-yeol mocks Eun-ho’s powers, clearly underestimating her pride. She takes the bait but warns him: she’ll grant the wish in her own way. Si-yeol, confident and careless, agrees. They part with him heading to London, completely unaware of what he’s just signed up for.
Because Eun-ho’s solution is simple, brutal, and very on-brand.
She switches Woo-seok and Si-yeol’s lives again, starting from the very beginning, this time with CEO Lee Yoon hitting Si-yeol instead of Woo-seok.
Woo-seok figures it out almost instantly and, shockingly, seems delighted by his new successful life. Si-yeol, meanwhile, is utterly confused. Eun-ho refuses to explain anything, and things quickly spiral when four low-level players from his new reality drag him off to apologize to a coach. Apparently, this version of Si-yeol fought with Coach Yong-gil and got cut. Our Si-yeol is still in denial, demanding to be taken to London to finalize his transfer, completely missing the bigger picture.
The episode then weaves in a darker, more myth-heavy storyline. Eun-ho is contacted by an old client, Chairman Kim, who reveals that a dagger has gone missing from his museum. It’s no ordinary artifact, it’s the Sajin Ritual Blade, something Eun-ho once had made for her friend Geum-ho when her family was branded traitors and hunted down.
Through a heartbreaking flashback, we see Lord Pagun warning Eun-ho not to interfere in Geum-ho’s fate. She ignores him and gives Geum-ho the dagger, explaining that killing a loved one with it would turn her back into a fox. But Geum-ho, despite her suffering, refuses to abandon her family. Instead, she makes a devastating wish of her own: that Eun-ho never approach her again.
Back in the present, Eun-ho reveals the blade can kill a fox too, which immediately raises the stakes.
Meanwhile, Si-yeol’s situation keeps getting worse. His new team locks him in the coach’s office, and he still doesn’t understand what’s happened. He casually treats Coach Yong-gil like an old friend, which only offends him further. When Si-yeol storms off, convinced it’s all a prank, it’s painful to watch how completely powerless he’s become.
Eun-ho investigates the missing dagger and quickly realizes the thief isn’t human. Chairman Kim is terrified, but Eun-ho remains confident, no human can harm her, after all.
Except this isn’t a human.
We cut to the thief picking up CEO Lee Yoon after his release from prison. A flashback reveals that two years ago, this mysterious man approached Lee when he was being bullied for his inability to lie, another lingering effect of Eun-ho’s punishment. The man gives Lee a sigil to protect him from Eun-ho’s tricks, using him as bait to lure her out.
He’s a fox hunter.
Eun-ho, sensing the danger, commissions a painting to recreate the hunter’s face. But Si-yeol’s world is collapsing faster than she anticipated. Unable to reach Woo-seok, he returns to his old apartment only to find strangers living there. Even the security guard treats him like a nobody. Completely lost, he’s eventually arrested for trespassing.
Eun-ho shows up at the police station, orders the cops to focus on tracking the hunter, and finally takes pity on Si-yeol. She tells him the truth, his fate has been switched. He explodes in anger, demanding answers, and she coldly tells him this is punishment for his disrespect. Things can go back to normal, she says, but only if Woo-seok wishes to switch their fates again.
And that’s the real question.
Eun-ho shows Si-yeol a glimpse of Woo-seok’s new life: a luxury apartment in London, walls lined with prestigious trophies, and the freedom to choose any team he wants. Si-yeol looks genuinely terrified for the first time, while Eun-ho watches with a smug, calculating expression.
Episode 3 ends on that uneasy note, forcing us to wonder whether friendship can survive envy, pride, and power and whether Si-yeol truly trusts Woo-seok to make the same selfless wish he once did.
When Power Falls Away and Feelings Slip In
Episode 4 of No Tail to Tell feels like a turning point, stripping away confidence, power, and certainty from almost everyone involved and honestly, it left me feeling oddly tender and unsettled by the end.
The episode opens with Coach Yong-gil bailing Si-yeol out of jail and trying, one last time, to reach him. He encourages Si-yeol to lead their struggling team up to the third division, offering him a chance at redemption. But Si-yeol, still clinging to his pride, lashes out and refuses to play in the fourth division. Watching him push away the only person extending genuine help was frustrating, but also painfully in character.
Woo-seok finally calls, assuming they’re both thriving in their swapped lives. When Si-yeol tells him the truth, that their fates have been switched and need to be switched back, Woo-seok is stunned. But before he can respond properly, his father cuts in, celebrating their wealth and success. Woo-seok hesitates and asks for one month before reversing everything. That hesitation hurts. Si-yeol refuses outright, but Woo-seok hangs up anyway, leaving Si-yeol feeling abandoned at his lowest.
Desperate to escape, Si-yeol tries to go to London, only to discover his passport has expired. Eun-ho appears, and his entire demeanor changes, he’s apologetic, subdued, and clearly shaken. Seeing that he’s learned his lesson, she promises to fix everything when he wakes up the next morning. As she leaves, she gives him one final piece of advice: never trust anyone. Si-yeol resolves never to make another fate-switching wish again.
But fate doesn’t wait.
The fox hunter, Jang Do-cheol, kidnaps Si-yeol. Realizing Do-cheol is using him to lure Eun-ho out, Si-yeol tries to call Woo-seok to summon her. But when Do-cheol and CEO Lee Yoon reveal they plan to kill Eun-ho, Si-yeol refuses to cooperate. He’s knocked unconscious, and at the same time, Eun-ho begins losing her powers.
She still shows up.
Eun-ho pretends to be weakened, baiting Do-cheol into stabbing a decoy with the Sajin Ritual Blade. Once she reveals her true self, the tables turn instantly. Do-cheol wants a fox bead, but Eun-ho refuses to punish him, stating that his fate already guarantees a miserable death. She promises Lee Yoon will pay as well and sends them both off to a remote countryside. Elsewhere, Lord Pagun quietly prepares to leave, signaling that the divine order itself is shifting.
Back at Do-cheol’s hideout, Eun-ho heals Si-yeol. She coldly claims she doesn’t care if he lives or dies, but admits that if he dies under the switched fate, the gods will discover her interference. Then, unexpectedly, she apologizes for dragging him into her mess. The apology clearly surprises him. Moments later, her powers vanish completely, and she collapses.
A haunting flashback follows. We see Geum-ho at the end of her life, dementia-stricken, alone, her family long gone. Eun-ho visits her, angry that Geum-ho chose such a painful human life. She vows never to love humans or live like her. But when Geum-ho dies, Eun-ho breaks down and cries, revealing just how deeply that bond still wounds her.
In the present, Eun-ho wakes up as a human and she is furious. Saving Si-yeol counted as a good deed, and that single act stripped her of her powers. Si-yeol, meanwhile, is far more concerned about when his fate will be switched back. That changes quickly when he realizes that without her powers, he’s stuck too.
Determined to fix everything, he accompanies Eun-ho to Lord Pagun’s temple, only to find it abandoned. All that’s left behind is a resident card bearing a human name: Kim Ok-sun. Enraged, Eun-ho nearly burns the temple down and gets arrested. In the chaos, she realizes the Sajin Ritual Blade is missing. Si-yeol sheepishly admits he forgot to bring it when he took her home. She sends him to retrieve it, explaining that the blade can sever and defy fate, something they may desperately need.
Si-yeol gathers his four new teammates as backup, but Do-cheol’s hideout is empty, and the blade is gone. Meanwhile, Woo-seok officially transfers to Londinium FC, solidifying the new reality.
The head monk bails Eun-ho out, but she’s lost and directionless until Si-yeol returns with a strange clue: a cleaned-up hideout and a news article about a fox saving a couple on Seoraksan Mountain. Eun-ho suspects the gods are manipulating events, but decides to play along.
Their plan is simple and ridiculous, get lost on the mountain and let the fox save them. Unfortunately, neither of them is prepared. Fellow hikers keep helping them, and Eun-ho boasts about having lived in the mountains while wheezing from exhaustion every few steps. The entire sequence is awkward, human, and oddly charming.
In the end, they’re reported as a couple attempting suicide and dragged back down the mountain. Exhausted, sore, and starving, they stop for dinner. Eun-ho can barely lift a spoon, and Si-yeol ends up feeding her. It’s a quiet, intimate moment that sneaks up on you. She dozes off, and Si-yeol watches her fondly before catching himself.
When he wakes her, she jolts in shock. She’s just dreamed of him stabbing her with the Sajin Ritual Blade.
DramaZen's Opinion
Watching Episodes 3 and 4 of No Tail to Tell felt like the drama quietly tightening its grip on me. These episodes aren’t loud or flashy in the usual way, but emotionally, they do so much heavy lifting that I found myself thinking about them long after the credits rolled.
Episode 3, in particular, made me uncomfortable in a good way. Seeing Si-yeol at his lowest; confused, displaced, and slowly realizing that the world no longer recognizes him, was genuinely hard to watch. His arrogance doesn’t magically disappear, but it starts cracking, and that felt very intentional. What really got to me was Woo-seok’s role in all of this. Learning that he had been caring for Si-yeol’s grandmother’s grave all those years hit me right in the chest. It was such a quiet, selfless detail that completely reframed their friendship for me. Even when Woo-seok refuses help, it’s not out of spite but pride and guilt, which somehow hurts more.
Eun-ho, once again, is the emotional anchor of the story for me. Her decision to switch their lives as punishment felt petty and cruel on the surface, but also very on-brand for someone who has lived centuries without accountability. Watching Woo-seok thrive instantly while Si-yeol spirals made the idea of “deserved fate” feel deeply uncomfortable. I didn’t know who I wanted to root for in those moments, and I actually loved that the show didn’t make it easy.
The introduction of the fox hunter storyline added a darker, almost ominous layer that I wasn’t expecting so soon. The flashback with Geum-ho and the Sajin Ritual Blade stayed with me the most. Seeing Eun-ho try to save her friend by offering her a way out, only to be rejected, explained so much about why she’s so closed off now. Her vow to never love humans felt less like arrogance and more like grief.
Episode 4 shifted everything again. Watching Si-yeol lose what little ground he had gained was frustrating, but also heartbreaking. His phone call with Woo-seok hurt more than I expected. Woo-seok’s hesitation, influenced by his father and the comfort of his new life, felt painfully human. It wasn’t villainous, it was weakness. And that somehow made it worse.
The kidnapping and fox hunter arc raised the stakes, but what really surprised me was Eun-ho saving Si-yeol. Her casual claim that she didn’t care if he lived or died, followed immediately by an apology, felt like a crack in armor she didn’t even realize she was wearing. When she collapsed and lost her powers, I felt this strange mix of shock and inevitability. It felt earned.
The flashback to Geum-ho’s death was devastating. Watching Eun-ho rage against the choice Geum-ho made, only to break down when she dies, made her loneliness painfully clear. That scene alone made me understand her fear of humanity and attachment more than any exposition could have.
And then, suddenly, Eun-ho is human. Watching her struggle with something as simple as walking, eating, and being tired was oddly emotional. The mountain sequence could have been purely comedic, but instead it felt warm and awkward in the best way. The small moments, Si-yeol feeding her, the way he looks at her before catching himself, were what really sold me on their growing connection.
By the end of Episode 4, when Eun-ho dreams of Si-yeol stabbing her with the Sajin Blade, I felt unsettled in a way that made me want to immediately keep watching. These episodes aren’t just about fate being swapped, they’re about what happens when power is taken away and all that’s left are choices, guilt, and growing feelings neither of them seem ready to face.
After Episodes 3 and 4, No Tail to Tell feels less like a fantasy drama and more like a story about vulnerability, consequence, and the quiet ways people hurt and protect each other. And honestly, that’s what has me completely hooked.
