So What If It's Sorcery? So What If It's Magic?
“Aigoo, my back...”
Jinhyuk slumped at the edge of the wall, thumping his throbbing lower back.
It had been three days since that bastard So Jinpyeong, the Dowee, had pocketed the hides and merits, then sauntered back inside the Great Wall.
The moment the Dowee left, Jinhyuk had spent two straight days and nights—right up until that morning—sprinkling salt all around the Outpost.
Crushed coarse and fine rock salt now coated the base of the wall like a thick layer of frost, quality be damned.
Even unloading trucks at the logistics center during his unemployed days hadn't been this brutal.
But Jinhyuk hadn't pushed through this madness just for the numbers the System showed.
He needed to see for himself what chemical reaction might spark when folkloric wards from his professor's drunken ramblings met modern science's purifying effects—and this bizarre demonic energy.
“...Captain, you see that?”
Beom Dal, panting beside him, pointed toward the Black Forest's edge beyond the Outpost.
Jinhyuk narrowed his eyes.
The black, sticky fog billowing from the forest was rippling and dissipating ten jang out, as if slamming into an invisible wall.
The ominous chill that would normally seep into the Outpost and rattle bones was clearly blocked.
Salt-spreading wasn't just superstition.
If the demonic beasts' energy was a kind of 'contaminant,' then rock salt acted as a potent neutralizer.
The damp stench around the Outpost had vanished, the air turning crisp—Jinhyuk could feel it on his skin.
And the sight of a small rat-like demonic beast screeching in agony as its paw burned on the salt-crusted ground, fleeing back to the forest? Pure spectacle.
This is it. With results like these, even those stubborn faction hardheads won't gripe that I'm stirring up trouble.
Jinhyuk inwardly cheered.
Until now, only the 2,200 under the 'Cheonrangdae' banner had been his direct command.
But now, he had the perfect pretext to extend his influence over the remaining 2,500 slave soldiers in the entire Outpost of 4,700.
Reorganizing power with survival as collateral.
Jinhyuk seized the moment.
“Beom Dal, call in all the faction heads and their adjutants. No exceptions for the Manmagwang guys either. Starting today, we're overhauling every operating rule here.”
At Jinhyuk's order, the Outpost's power players assembled before the central hall's great porch.
Baek Un-hak and staff officer Jegal Hwi from the Jeonggidae; Sima Chung and Ak Chung from the Heuksa-dae.
Their faces were a mix of emotions.
They felt the cleaner air around the Outpost, yet they couldn't hide their dismay that Jinhyuk's 'salt ritual'—something they'd dismissed as barbarian nonsense—had actually worked.
Jinhyuk gripped a charred stick and scrawled big on a plank.
RulesRegulations
“Listen up. You've all seen it—the demonic energy lifting around the Outpost. This is a ward from my homeland. But salt alone doesn't fix everything. From now on, this Outpost moves like clockwork under my command and control.”
Beom Dal straightened at Jinhyuk's rough modern speech, then bellowed like a lion at the leaders.
“The Captain declares! He has deployed his clan’s secret wards to purify the Outpost—ensuring its safety and survival as good as guaranteed! Now ends the chaos of rabble! Under the Captain's discipline, we forge ironclad military order! Any who dare object shall face the full wrath of military law!”
Jinhyuk tapped the plank and laid out specific troop assignments.
It was an order deploying 850 for watch duty across 15 key points: the 10 northern watchtowers, the 5 mountain towers vacated after shoving out Wiji Gang's Iron Blood Unit, and the beacon stations.
“Fifty per watchtower, two shifts. Beacon stations get a hundred. I won't meddle in your zones, but reports better be razor-sharp. Slack off and get breached? Zone heads take brigade-level responsibility—heads roll first. Got it?”
Beom Dal lent gravitas once more.
“The Cheonrangdae claims full oversight of the 10 northern watchtowers, the 5 rear mountain towers with the beacon station, and the beacons themselves—16 vital points total! Eastern and western zones: 50 each, two shifts, no gaps tolerated! Report all incidents to the Outpost at once! Neglect that invites demonic breach? Zone heads and their aides face collective execution!”
Jegal Hwi snapped his worn fan shut, eyes narrowing.
True to his Jeonggidae staff officer role, he saw through it: Jinhyuk was using the 'salt ward' to seize control of the entire Outpost.
“Captain Kang, your insight in repelling demonic energy with rock salt merits praise. But demanding our reporting chain? Sounds like you want us under your heel. Think a few bowls of meat stew and grain rice bought our souls?”
Jinhyuk smirked at Jegal Hwi.
“Hey, Jegal Hwi. Not putting you under my heel—it's risk management as business partners. Breach means we all head to the afterlife. Reporting that tough on your pride? It's all to boost your survival odds. Don't know how dangerous info asymmetry is? You think I'm doing this to hog the good life solo?”
Beom Dal thrust like a spear at Jegal Hwi's chest with his transcendent translation.
“Jegal Staff Officer! The Captain's wisdom concerns not petty authority, but the life and death of us all! How can blind eyes and deaf ears preserve life on the battlefield? A force without vigilant watch and reports strangles itself! His vision saves every life it can—dare you judge such depth by narrow pride?”
Faced with Jinhyuk's fierce momentum and the Outpost's freshly purified air, Baek Un-hak mediated first, while Sima Chung nodded to the pragmatism.
Thus, the mighty Jeonggidae and Heuksa-dae factions bent to Jinhyuk's new power structure.
As the leaders dispersed, Jinhyuk summoned Dokmun, head of the holdout Manmagwang, to his private quarters.
Even Beom Dal swallowed dryly at Dokmun's eerie aura—blood and herbs mingling strangely.
Central Plains' righteous martial artists scorned Manmagwang's sorcery as 'inhuman devilry,' and among the slave soldiers here, they were top pariahs.
“Dokmun, you join our hunt. But no leading from the front. Cheonrangdae shields you with phalanx— you handle rear support: read demonic beasts' presence with your sorcery, disrupt their senses. No scorching or melting hides—keep merchandise value. Deal?”
Beom Dal locked eyes with Dokmun, conveying Jinhyuk's intent.
“Dokmun! The Captain would make Manmagwang's arts our sharp eyes and ears! Yours the heavy charge: divine foes' signs early, blunt their momentum, spare our men's blood! He shall shield you personally behind the wall—so focus solely on sorcery to aid the hunt!”
Dokmun's eyes narrowed in surprise.
Jinhyuk's gaze held no disgust or rejection typical of Central Plains folk.
Just a cool, pragmatic appraisal—like admiring a honed blade.
Jinhyuk clicked his tongue in a mutter Dokmun couldn't parse.
“Hey, sorcery or magic—what's the difference? If it keeps our guys alive and bags beasts clean, perfect. Tools got no good or evil. Wield 'em right, and they're master blades.”
Beom Dal added weightily.
“What divide of righteous and devilish in sorcery? If it saves my subordinates, that's true art—proper craft! The Captain deems your secrets the most efficient weapons!”
Dokmun grinned grotesquely and nodded.
“Heh heh... First not to spit at our sight. Weapons, eh? I like your impartial eyes. Manmagwang shall be Cheonrangdae's shadow this hunt.”
With command solidified, Jinhyuk convened key figures to solidify Cheonrangdae's core.
Doksa, So Sam, No Hwi, and reps for the 200 technician slaves.
Jinhyuk scrawled big on the plank: [Core] [Strength].
CoreStrength
“Now the real work starts. We're big but hollow inside. Do exactly as I say to fill it. No results? No one's getting fed.”
Beom Dal amplified the gravity.
“A force without solid core is a shallow-rooted tree snapping in wind! The Captain assigns duties—neglect them, taste Cheonrangdae's merciless code!”
Jinhyuk pointed first at Doksa.
“Doksa, you're warehouse boss. Inspect every low-grade iron bar and supply from old man Han Noya yourself. Steal? Hack off wrists. This is our lifeline—money and chow. Clear?”
Beom Dal's translation followed.
“Doksa! Oversee the Outpost's lifeline—logistics! Inspect Han Noya's trades without flaw. Any rat pawing rations or gear? Sever wrists on the spot, hang 'em public as warning!”
Next, fire specialist So Sam.
“So Sam, you're Cheonrangdae's official illustrator now. Sketch every spear thrust, sword cut, shield move our officers demo—down to joint twists. Detail like game manuals from my bum days. Illiterates follow pics alone.”
Beom Dal clapped So Sam's shoulder.
“So Sam! Etch Cheonrangdae's drills in ink! Capture every instinctive stance, footwork—even illiterates master arms from drawings alone. Holy task for our century's foundation!”
To bureaucracy vet No Hwi: document everything.
“No Hwi, you're control tower. Personnel, intel, admin—all on paper. Every arrowhead, grain kernel logged. Unmanaged unit's just bandits. Build an admin system to shame Great Wall garrisons.”
Beom Dal issued the edict.
“No Hwi! Be the Outpost's mind! Log troops' status, rations' flux, foe movements—all in writing! Unrecorded army gropes like thieves in dark—forge ledgers to awe Yan Empire's elites!”
Finally, precise orders for the 200 technicians.
“You 200: rework all weapons and armor with Han Noya's iron bars. Subtly—no Great Wall suspicion. Line leather jacks inside with thin plates, embed iron cores in wood spears. Round wood shields: wood shell, iron plate inside. Shabby outside, full steel guts. That's 'undercover' upgrade.”
Beom Dal ignited their zeal.
“Artisans! The Captain bids secret superweapons! Outwardly plain leather and cloth—within, iron plates and cores to deflect blades, pierce flesh! Shields saving allies, spikes slaying foes!”
Jinhyuk set down the charcoal.
“Deliver, and hunt meat, rations, even wages like salary. No starving on my watch—show your stuff.”
Beom Dal roared.
“Merit earns meat and grain unstintingly—rewards rivaling Great Wall troops shorted pay! Hunger ends—prove worth by skill!”
Light sparked in the despairing technicians' eyes—the first 'payroll' system in this hellish Outpost.
By dawn of departure, the Outpost was no longer a mob of ragtag slaves.
Technicians had refined gear overnight per So Sam's blueprints; No Hwi's admin sorted 2,200 name-tags into order.
Doksa's vetted supplies stacked neatly in warehouses; 850 watchmen at towers stayed vigilant per new rules.
[Watch: 850 / Reserve: 850 / Tech: 200 / Hunt: 300]
Jinhyuk tested the string of his masterpiece, the Heavenly Wolf Bow slung over his shoulder.
This jury-rigged modern compound bow—pulleys, bone springs, sight principles—had been refined by smiths, bowyers, and tech slaves.
Arrowheads honed overnight gleamed blue in moonlight.
On the wall, So Sam sketched formations; No Hwi's team sorted name-tags, opening ledgers.
Technicians muffled secret hammering, plating leather innards.
Doksa prowled warehouse front, dagger of beast bone and iron scrap in hand, glaring at lurkers.
Jinhyuk eyed the 300 hunt squad and 250 Manmagwang below—550 elites, command negotiations sealed, final checks done for Black Forest conquest.
Gaze to the wall base: white salt path held, demonic growls beyond—but fear gone.
This was no exile pit of slaves awaiting death.
Modern systems fused with Central Plains might—a new army under Jinhyuk's hand, advancing.
He was certain.
“Let's go earn our keep.”
No easy deaths here...
Waaah!
Next day, cheers from Cheonrangdae echoed as the north gate groaned open.
Jinhyuk's second slaughter business—the massive Black Forest purge shaking its ecosystem—curtain rose.
[Current Survival Rate: 40.35%]