Karma is a South Korean crime thriller television series released on Netflix in April 2025, based on the popular Kakao webtoon by Choi Hee‑seon.
The story follows six very different people whose lives become interconnected through a fateful accident and a chain of grave decisions. Each character is at a critical point in life — from overwhelming debt and risky schemes, to past trauma and desperate choices — and their paths cross in ways none of them could have anticipated.
Rather than a straightforward crime procedural, Karma unfolds like a twisting psychological thriller that explores the consequences of actions, the ripple effects of moral choices, and how hidden pasts can resurface to reshape multiple lives.
The series uses multiple timelines and nonlinear storytelling to slowly reveal how these seemingly separate lives are linked — often through regret, desperation, and the concept of karmic consequence.
Here are two detailed scenes from “Karma” that are relevant to the serie and contain no spoilers:
Scene 1: The Rooftop Decision
At twilight, a lone character stands on a rooftop, the city lights flickering far below. The camera holds a wide shot — the subject appears small, isolated, surrounded by endless concrete and neon. Wind rustles their coat as they look out over the skyline, gripped by silent tension.
In their hand is a phone, screen glowing. A name flashes. They hesitate — caught between confessing something, or burying it forever. The moment stretches painfully long. Behind them, a door creaks open. Another figure appears, silhouetted. A conversation begins — quiet, raw, and filled with things unsaid.
The scene is minimalist, but loaded with meaning. It’s not about action — it’s about the weight of choice, the moment just before cause becomes consequence. It echoes the series’ central theme: how a single decision can ripple outward, altering not just your life, but the lives of others forever.
Scene 2: The Interrogation Room – Past Meets Present
In a stark, fluorescent-lit police station, one character is brought in for questioning. They sit silently across the table from an investigator who clearly knows more than they reveal. The tension doesn’t come from shouting — it comes from what’s being withheld. A ticking clock, a file slowly opened, and a name spoken that shouldn’t be known.
As the conversation unfolds, the character begins to unravel — not outwardly, but internally. The show uses subtle camera shifts and close-ups: twitching fingers, flickering eyes, a crack in the voice. Layer by layer, the viewer realizes that this moment is not just about answering the detective — it’s about confronting a past choice that never stopped echoing.
This scene is central to Karma’s puzzle‑box structure: it ties timelines together and gives new emotional weight to a moment we may have seen earlier from a different point of view. It’s haunting, slow-burning, and quietly devastating.
