Is “The Divorce Insurance” Based On A Webtoon?

So, I watched The Divorce Insurance, and fifteen minutes in, I slammed that pause button like I’d just spotted my ex’s name trending in a group chat. I squinted at the screen. I whispered to the void, “This is giving webtoon realness.” Naturally, I snatched my phone like a woman on a caffeinated mission, fully expecting to see it on Naver.

Plot twist? Nothing. Not a single panel. My betrayal was personal.

Turns out, The Divorce Insurance is a completely original drama. A wild, brainy baby born from the minds of writer Lee Tae-yoon and directors Lee Won-seok and Choi Bo-kyung.

No manhwa. No adaptation. No soft landing for my expectations.

All The Webtoon Vibes, Zero Panels: Why It Feels Adapted

I was flabbergasted. Truly. Like staring-at-my-ceiling-fan-asking-life-questions level confused. This show has every red flag of a webtoon adaptation, and I say that with love.

The outrageously specific job? Check. A workplace swarming with emotionally constipated hotties? Check. A plot that flirts with the absurd but still makes your heart do gymnastics? Triple check, glitter optional.

Even the character dynamics felt like they had speech bubbles floating above them. I was convinced this had to be adapted from Do It One More Time. I mean, come on—both deal with romantic wreckage and emotional reboots.

But nope. While Do It One More Time sends you on a magical redo ride with your ex, The Divorce Insurance looks at your heart, your tears, your bank account, and goes, “Sweetie, let’s crunch the numbers.”

But nope. While Do It One More Time sends you on a magical redo ride with your ex, The Divorce Insurance looks at your heart, your tears, your bank account, and goes, “Sweetie, let’s crunch the numbers.”

One time-travels. The other files insurance claims. Same pain, different paperwork.

And the genius of it? Divorce insurance might sound ridiculous, but it’s based on real-life discussions.

Financial safety nets for post-marriage meltdowns are a thing. Somewhere in the world, someone has pitched this in a boardroom without irony.

Not A Webtoon, But It Deserves Its Own Fan Art

This show crawled into my soul, set up camp, and started roasting marshmallows over my emotional wounds. It has big webtoon energy without being one.

I mean, it practically slides into the screen like it’s ready for its own webtoon awards ceremony, complete with sparkles, slow-mo, and a theme song that haunts your dreams.

Do It One More Time was warm fantasy therapy. The Divorce Insurance is cold, blunt, Excel-powered group counseling.

I saw my emotional history flash before my eyes. Like that time in college when my crush dumped me via email—yes, email—after I’d just baked him banana bread from scratch. I sobbed through a whole weekend, clutching that Tupperware like it held the remains of my dignity.

This show? It saw that me. It read my melodramatic diary entries and whispered, “Girl, same.”

It’s got that perfect blend of hilarious one-liners and sucker-punch feels. You laugh. Then cry. Then ugly laugh-cry. Honestly, if that’s not manhwa spirit, I don’t know what is.

Meet The Only Insurance Team That Could Fix Your Love Life

Enter Noh Ki-jun, played by Lee Dong-wook (yes, the man who ruined men for me forever). Three divorces deep. Still wearing a tie like his heart isn’t in shambles.

Instead of spiraling, he invents divorce insurance. Because why process your pain when you can monetize it?

His support group—I mean, team—includes:

• Kang Han-deul (Lee Joo-bin), the divorced underwriter who’s basically the goddess of rebirth in office heels.
• Ahn Jeon-man (Lee Kwang-soo), who screams “I need therapy” in the most lovable way possible.
• Jeon Na-rae (Lee Da-hee), a pragmatic queen who could calculate your emotional value and still look fabulous.

Together, they’re walking chaos with a group project. It’s therapeutic. It’s messy. It’s exactly what my soul ordered.

Now here’s the deeper layer. In Korea, jobs aren’t just jobs in dramas—they’re metaphors.

An actuary analyzing love like it’s a liability? That’s not just clever. That’s chef’s kiss social commentary.

An actuary analyzing love like it’s a liability? That’s not just clever. That’s chef’s kiss social commentary.

Love, Divorce Rates, And Emotional Sabotage In Korean Offices

If you’re not Korean, bless your heart, here’s what you need to know: the office is a war zone of hierarchy, etiquette, and the kind of silence that speaks volumes.

People bow, defer, and silently plot emotional sabotage—all while holding coffee trays.

And when feelings enter the workplace? Oh honey. That’s not just awkward. That’s scandalous.

Watching Ki-jun fall for a co-worker is like watching a rom-com play chicken with a melodrama. Every lingering stare feels illegal.

And get this—insurance in Korea is no joke. It’s usually tied to serious loss. So using it to talk about love? That’s flipping societal norms with flair.

Also worth noting, South Korea’s divorce rate is among the highest in Asia. As cultural norms shift and marriage expectations evolve, dramas like The Divorce Insurance resonate deeply.

Also worth noting, South Korea’s divorce rate is among the highest in Asia. As cultural norms shift and marriage expectations evolve, dramas like The Divorce Insurance resonate deeply.

They reflect real anxieties and growing conversations around love, failure, and what happens after the fairytale fades. It’s oddly comforting to see those experiences, once so hush-hush, presented with humor and heart.

Why You Need This Drama Like You Need Ramyeon After A Breakup

Because it didn’t need a pre-sold webtoon fanbase. It clawed its way into our hearts with original charm and a truckload of emotional baggage.

It’s quirky. It’s devastating. It’s a fever dream of what happens when love meets risk analysis.

And the cast? A+ in trauma bonding.

If you laughed through A Business Proposal, endured Because This Is My First Life, or daydreamed about Our Beloved Summer, this drama will wreck you—in a good way.

So watch it. Share it. Tell your therapist.

And hey—don’t just vanish like a K-drama second lead. Drop a comment. Smash that subscribe.

Let’s scream, swoon, and emotionally spiral together. One fictional disaster at a time.