Karma and Frame: Bloodline's Shackles
The humid air of the Black Forest hung heavily inside the wooden stockade of the hunting outpost.
Jinhyuk, who had just endured the agony of forcibly reconstructing his body after swallowing the Great Snow Bear's inner core, panted roughly as he cooled the heat radiating from his entire frame.
Around him, Hwang-yeonggam, Cheongun, Dogui, Dok-an, and dozens of Survival Demons who moved with them stared piercingly at his body, each reining in their unique auras.
"Hoo, hoo... Damn, that was close to death."
Jinhyuk muttered a curse in Korean, sweeping back his sweat-soaked hair.
His flesh was now far denser and tougher than before, but the exhaustion that came with it left him feeling utterly drained, as if even his soul had been wrung out.
Cheongun, the upright old fogey from the orthodox sects, spoke first.
Sitting ramrod straight, he clicked his tongue with a face full of disapproval.
"Tsk tsk, Commander Jin. The way of martial arts advances step by step, like climbing stairs. Relying on some unknown constitution and abusing your body like that borders on the demonic path. You got lucky this time with us here, but collapsing irresponsibly on the battlefield isn't befitting a commander!"
At Cheongun's lecture, Dogui from the unorthodox sects chuckled and butted in.
"Aigoo, Elder Cheongun. What 'way' are you yapping about? I'm actually intrigued. Hey, Commander Jin. The way your qi and blood twisted in agony was a real work of art. But tell me, you gonna do this again next time? If we're not around, you'll really explode and die? I don't wanna see your meat puppet turned to dough. That'd be wasting a prime spectacle."
Dok-an from the Demonic Cult spat phlegm and snapped gruffly.
"Shut your trap. Listen up, Commander Jin. Even in our cult, anyone who couldn't protect their own worthless hide got their head chopped first. If you break, the Outpost's lifeline snaps too. Don't wanna croak? Shove some spirit-replenishing elixir down your gullet next time that seizure hits. Or I'll rip out your heart myself to stop the twisting."
Jinhyuk broke out in cold sweat at their brutal advice.
The system's forced remodeling wasn't something he could control at will.
Whoa, check out the vibe on these old timers. But 'remodeling' won't click... How do I explain this convincingly? Innate physique from wuxia novels? Nah... These are proper martial artists; physique talk might not fly. Side effect of some demonic art? Dok-an's from the Demonic Cult, so... Screw it. Go full orthodox cliché and blame the bloodline.
Jinhyuk closed his eyes briefly, adopting a solemn expression.
He channeled the aura of a tragic heir burdened by an inexpressible family curse.
With a twig from the ground, he carefully scratched complex hanja characters into the dirt.
[Karma / Frame / Physique]
He slowly lifted his head and met the eyes of the Survival Demons.
With restrained body language mixing solemnity and resolve, he continued writing.
[Clan Secret Transmission / Sin of the Bloodline] — A secret passed down through the generations, a sin flowing in the blood.
[Soul's Accumulated Karma → Body's Frame Transformed] — When the soul accumulates karma, the body's frame forcibly changes.
[Absolutely Defenseless / Qi and Vitality Exhausted] — In that instant, one is utterly defenseless, vitality drained.
[This Is My Fate] — This is my destiny.
Jinhyuk set down the twig and let out a deep sigh.
He'd meant to write 'destiny' but forgot the strokes, so he'd jury-rigged it with 'this' and 'life' to get the point across.
The elders and dozens of Survival Demons behind them fell silent, awed by the words 'sin of the bloodline' and 'this is my fate' scratched in the dirt.
"...A sin in the blood. The soul's karma piling up to rip apart and rebuild the body's frame... I've never heard of such a bizarre and cruel bloodline in all my years. So that's why you endure that hellish pain."
Cheongun nodded with pitying eyes.
The orthodox Survival Demons following him nodded gravely in agreement.
Jinhyuk inwardly cheered.
Then Hwang-yeonggam tapped his pipe on the ground and drove the point home.
"Everyone's rough words ring true, even if crude. Listen sharp, Commander Jin. The Black Forest's aura's been off these past days. My decades as an old soldier tell me something big's coming soon. More beasts than that massive wave before. If you collapse in that chaos, not just the Ghost Cry Gorge line, but all 5,000 slave soldiers in the rear watch'll be at risk. This ain't just your problem. A commander keeling over mid-battle from exhaustion invites a massacre."
Hwang-yeonggam's stern warning snapped Jinhyuk to attention.
He'd overlooked how fatal the 'defenseless state' during level-up would be on the battlefield.
"...I'll keep it in mind, Elder. I'll think of countermeasures."
Jinhyuk mumbled in Korean and scratched into the dirt: [Ghost / Peril]. The hunting outpost was too exposed, and demon beasts drawn by blood could swarm again anytime.
[Ghost / Peril]
That was when it happened.
"Commander! Commander!"
Beom Dal, leader of the hunting squad, cautiously poked his head into the tent.
"A messenger just arrived from the Outpost headquarters. Elder Han Noya's led the supply convoy here! Commander No-hwi says hurry back before the other factions eye it and secure the goods!"
Jinhyuk's eyes lit up.
"Oh! Package arrived! Finally!"
Jinhyuk shot to his feet.
The leadership Survival Demons reacted each in their way.
Dogui grabbed his curved sword.
"That old monster Han Noya's here? Perfect, my blade's dull. Gotta see if he's got decent whetstones."
His unorthodox crew moved with him, intrigued.
Dok-an followed too, muttering about checking poison herb seeds.
Cheongun, meanwhile...
"I'll sweep the stragglers around here first."
He vanished into the forest shadows, a few Survival Demons slipping after him.
"Alright! Pack up, everyone! Hide the Great Snow Bear scraps like last time and hustle! We're pulling out before more beasts smell the blood!"
At Jinhyuk's order, the 299 Cheonrang Company hunters and 250 Manma Mine crew moved like clockwork.
Chunks of the massive Great Snow Bear carcass, along with hides and parts from its attendant snow bears, snow deer, snow leopards, snow cats, snow stingers—all loaded onto carts in neat stacks.
The rumble of wheels and grunts of the crew filled the outpost.
The return march was swift.
They plunged through the dense Black Forest trees, following paths blazed by the Cheonrang hunters, force-marching for a couple hours.
Jinhyuk led the column, tension never slackening.
Finally, the Outpost's silhouette emerged in the distance.
It was no imperial fortress—crude and ramshackle.
Slave soldiers had patched crumbling walls with wooden fences and rock piles.
But to Jinhyuk, who'd danced with death in the forest for days, this battered outpost was the coziest haven imaginable.
"Whoa, shit... Not home, but... we're alive."
Rumble—
The heavy gate creaked open as Cheonrang main force greeted them.
Sentries stood vigilant atop the walls; in the inner courtyard, Han Noya's supply train had settled.
Dozens of foreign horses panted heavily; carts brimmed with rice sacks, cloth bolts, and the goods Jinhyuk had awaited so eagerly.
Han Noya, pipe in mouth atop a cart, spotted Jinhyuk from afar and narrowed his eyes.
"Here they come. Right on time."
He dismounted to seal the deal.
But facing the approaching Jinhyuk, his face hardened.
Jinhyuk's body—far more compressed, refined, muscular than days ago—triggered the old soldier's instincts.
"...Commander Jin, that you? What happened to your body in a few days? Did you pick up some demonic art in the Black Forest?"
"Elder, body's better—we'll talk later. My veggies safe? Oh, and the iron ingots!"
Han Noya didn't catch it, but greed in Jinhyuk's eyes was crystal clear.
He tsked, handing the ledger to Administrator No-hwi.
"Look at this punk... Check it. Ransacked the outer stores and Left Army warehouse for these. Packed tight with the quality stuff you wanted—no disappointments this deal. I emptied my pockets, so don't waste it."
No-hwi took the ledger and tallied methodically.
"90 low-grade iron ingots (90 taels), confirmed. 30 foreign horses, good condition. Whetstones, oil, dozens of cloth bolts, crates of needles and thread... and five bundles of fresh veggies including the cabbage and radish you mentioned, Commander—all accounted for."
Jinhyuk rushed to the cart, ripping open a veggie sack. Crisp cabbage, radish, green onions, chives—even precious garlic. Tears nearly welled up.
He beamed like a kid, but his gaze soon shifted to the heavy crates deep in each cart.
90 low-grade iron ingots, each 120 jin (about 72kg)—totaling over 10,800 jin. Standard iron for conscript gear along the Great Wall.
Black market premium jacked the price manifold, but this haul could re-tip every spear in Cheonrang, plate the wooden shields, rivet iron scraps to leather armor—with plenty left.
Symbols of 'civilization' impossible from beast parts alone.
These whetstones to hone dull blades, ingots to recast broken spearheads, thread to mend torn leather.