12 timestamped notes explaining the Korean cultural context in this episode — customs, idioms, food, honorifics, and history, at the moment each appears on screen. These notes discuss events across the whole episode. To see them revealed scene-by-scene as you watch, use the episode page to find an airing.
The team decides to nickname Babel's hidden boss '바보' (babo), which literally means 'idiot' or 'fool' in Korean. It's a sly joke — the abbreviation of 'Babel's boss' just happens to spell out a common insult every Korean child knows. The laugh is that they'll now refer to a terrifying crime lord with the most ordinary put-down in the language.
Vincenzo names the pigeon 인자기 (Inzaghi), after Italian football legend Filippo Inzaghi, the prolific AC Milan striker. Naming a stray pigeon after a famous Italian footballer is Vincenzo's way of holding onto his Italian identity while stuck in Seoul — and it doubles as a wry joke, since Inzaghi was famously good at being in exactly the right place at the right time, just like this stubborn bird.
Cha-young refuses to eat 고구마 (goguma, sweet potato) before important work, citing a Korean folk belief that its slow digestion will cause things to get 'stuck' or go wrong — the word 'goguma' is also slang for a frustrating, suffocating situation. Koreans similarly avoid 미역국 (miyeok-guk, seaweed soup) before exams because the slippery seaweed suggests 'sliding' or failing.
Joo-sung switches the dinner reservation from a hotel Chinese restaurant to what he calls a real 맛집 (matjip) — a beloved local gem, literally 'taste place.' In Korean dining culture, a hole-in-the-wall 맛집 known only by word of mouth carries far more prestige than a hotel restaurant. His pride that the place 'can't appear on TV' is a classic sign it's the real deal.
The chief prosecutor mocks Myung-hee by calling her a '서초동 영업 사원' — a Seocho-dong sales rep. Seocho-dong is the neighbourhood in Seoul where the Supreme Court, Seoul Central District Court, and hundreds of law firms are clustered. Calling a lawyer a 'sales rep' from that district is a cutting way of saying she's nothing more than a fixer hustling for corporate clients.
Cha-young rattles off her credentials: 태권도 (Taekwondo) 3단, 주짓수 (jiu-jitsu) 2단, 합기도 (hapkido) 2단 — dan is the rank system used in Korean and Japanese martial arts, where higher numbers mean greater mastery. She confidently adds them up to eight, then immediately accepts the correction to seven, which tells you everything about how seriously to take her math under pressure.
The ramen Vincenzo received from the pawn-shop couple is a staple of Korean late-night life — boiling a packet of 라면 (ramyeon) alone at night is practically a national ritual. The brand isn't shown, but Korean ramyeon is cooked in the pot and eaten straight from it, which is why Cha-young's demand for a second serving feels both very casual and very intimate for the two of them.
Cha-young complains that a single Korean ramyeon packet is too small and should be regulated by law — a very real grievance shared by most Koreans, since the standard block is sized to leave you wanting more. Eating ramyeon late at night is something Koreans call 야식 (yasik), a beloved but guilty late-night snack habit, which is exactly why she also worries about waking up with a puffy face.
When Seok-do tells the group to boil water because he's going out to buy 짜파게티 (Chapagetti), he's referring to the iconic Nongshim instant noodle that mimics 짜장면 (jjajangmyeon), the black-bean-sauce Chinese-Korean noodle dish. Chapagetti is the budget home version of a dish usually ordered from a restaurant, and choosing it over proper delivery is a small comic signal of just how broke the former Antek Company crew now is.
Hong-sik rallies everyone to search for the gold using '학익진' (hak-ikjin), the famous crane-wing formation used by Admiral Yi Sun-sin during the 1592 Japanese invasions to surround enemy ships. Casually using the name of Korea's most celebrated battle tactic to coordinate a treasure hunt in a Buddhist temple courtyard is exactly the kind of grandiose, self-important language that makes this group so funny.
Jang Jun-woo pitches making Korea a '진통제의 천국' — a painkiller paradise — to a foreign buyer, mirroring real anxieties about opioid-style drug markets. Korea has strict controls on prescription painkillers, so the plan hinges on using Babel's political connections to quietly dismantle those regulations. The buyer's line that the ingredients are 'already banned in the US' is the show's nod to the opioid crisis that devastated American communities.
Joo-sung offers Plan B: '아구창 한 대 날리고 바로 자백받는다' — one punch to the jaw and get the confession immediately. '아구창' is colourful Korean slang for a hard smack to the mouth area, the kind of blunt, zero-patience solution that is Joo-sung's answer to every complicated problem. The contrast with the carefully scripted Plan A perfectly captures the comedy gap between him and the two lawyers.