I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 117

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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117 – Unity Town
117
【Clash of opinions during meeting. Male coworker who took Assand assaults colleague.】
【University student claiming “everyone is wrong” becomes rapidly agitated during debate.. commits violence against opposing panelist】
【Marital dispute escalates into physical altercation. Police investigating incident】
【Architect commits violence over client’s request to revise blueprints. “There are no more perfect designs”】
【Famous band members engage in physical altercation during song composition. Band dissolution underway】
【Renowned actor refuses director’s instructions on set. “My interpretation is correct” Leaves filming location】
Violence incidents filled the newspaper pages.
Chinese society was transforming rapidly because of Assand.
China had always been selfish, but now it had crossed that line.
There is a saying in China: “事不關己” — it doesn’t concern me.
People don’t concern themselves with matters unrelated to them.
Even if someone collapsed on the street.
Even if someone faced danger,
even if someone needed help, people wouldn’t step forward.
In China, countless people had suffered after helping others, only to become perpetrators themselves.
Someone helped an elderly person who had collapsed, brought them to the hospital, and the elderly person sued them, claiming they had knocked them down. They won the case and received compensation.
The logic was: if they hadn’t knocked them down, they wouldn’t have brought them to the hospital.
Such incidents were not rare.
Good-hearted people who tried to help others were branded as perpetrators and forced to pay compensation. Some couldn’t bear the stress and ended their own lives.
Because of this, people didn’t concern themselves with others’ affairs.
As long as it’s not me.
A culture had taken deep root: as long as I’m fine, it doesn’t matter what happens to others.
But Assand changed that.
Now it became: “Only I am right.”
Only I was correct, righteous, justified, rational, and legitimate.
For those intoxicated by Assand, lost in the perfect world unfolding in their minds, there was no room for others.
There was no capacity to accept others’ opinions.
And they didn’t want to.
“Only I am right” meant everyone else was wrong.
But the same applied to the other person.
Rather than dialogue, they would repetitively assert their own opinions, and when that didn’t work, they would belittle and curse at the other person.
If that still wasn’t enough, they would resort to violence.
The correct answer to this world was themselves.
Everyone else was wrong.
In companies, on roads, in schools, people could commonly be seen pointing fingers at each other and raising their voices.
Fights were breaking out everywhere.
But “it doesn’t concern me.”
Still, many Chinese people showed no interest in such conflicts.
Whether they fought or not was irrelevant to me, as long as it didn’t affect me directly.
It was a matter that had nothing to do with me whatsoever.
******
I visited Unity Town.
I feel remorseful about it.
This is my first visit.
I’m somewhat apologetic that I suggested we build it, yet I’m only now coming to see it.
I’d only received reports.
It’s a cowardly excuse, but honestly, I’ve been quite busy.
Because of Assand, I had to keep traveling back and forth to China, and I needed to inspect the Factory.
With so much on my mind, I didn’t have the leisure to visit other places.
There was no time, but more than that, I lacked the mental space.
I felt constantly pursued, as if carrying a heavy burden in my heart.
I couldn’t even think about doing anything else.
But now I have some breathing room, and thanks to that, I was able to come to Unity Town.
Unity Town isn’t an entirely new settlement that was built from scratch.
We simply relocated people to an empty, uninhabited space.
We constructed the Factory, and around it, we placed residential shipping containers where people could live.
We didn’t bring people here to live in containers.
We plan to provide decent housing.
However, the town’s construction began so suddenly and unexpectedly, like roasting beans over a flash of lightning.
We built the Factory, but there was nowhere for people to live.
We were constructing apartments, but it took time.
So we had no choice but to temporarily bring in containers.
Yet even so, they say this is far better than the homes they used to live in.
They lived among garbage, they say.
They only had wooden planks to block the wind.
They’re so grateful for these nice homes.
They express their gratitude.
Unity Town was a kind of new city.
First, the roads were designed systematically.
Since there was a Factory, roads were necessary.
There were beautifully paved asphalt roads.
We divided the areas based on these roads as the center.
We built a School, a Library, Parks, and Playgrounds.
We operated a childcare center where mothers could confidently leave their children when they went to work.
We also opened a Hospital where sick children could receive care.
We established a vocational training center for children who had no interest in studying.
We also created a vocational training center for mothers so they could learn skills other than Factory work.
We built a Plaza and Community Center where people could gather.
They needed so much.
Education, food, and shelter were necessary, but above all, they needed comfort and solace.
They needed people to talk with, to empathize with, people they could confide their pain to.
They needed people they could endure life alongside.
Unity Town had many such people.
We gathered at the Community Center, where I shared my story and listened to the lives of others.
It felt as though the knots in my heart were beginning to heal.
Simply being in the same space, facing similar circumstances, was enough to bring comfort.
Perhaps in ten years it would be different, but now Unity Town was overwhelmingly populated by young children and mothers.
I had to build a city for these children and mothers.
I had to make it a city where they could live comfortably.
I had to build a city where children could play freely, learn, and gain experience.
I had to build a safe city.
The Rebel Forces had agreed to protect the city’s safety.
They would patrol regularly and defend the village from external threats.
Whenever strength was needed or help was required, they never hesitated to assist.
The Rebel Forces were nearly heroes to Unity Town.
Whenever something happened to anyone anywhere, they would surely appear.
I was amazed when I saw such a Unity Town.
It was far better maintained than I expected, clean, and brimming with energy.
The atmosphere was vibrant.
“It’s much better than I thought. I’m impressed.”
“Patrick put a lot of care into it. Dae Yeon Development started construction here first.”
Simon answered from beside me.
“Is it difficult?”
“No. Actually, it’s fulfilling. This is surprisingly fun.”
“Keep taking care of it for me.”
“Yeah. Got it.”
I visited the School with Simon.
I wanted to look around the School and fill in any gaps.
Unfortunately, all I had was Assand and money.
Since I couldn’t give Assand to the children, I tried to make up for my regret with money instead.
The School was ablaze with the students’ passion for learning.
They studied without lifting their heads even once.
“What? Why are they studying so hard? Are there really that many children interested in studying?”
“Well… there are a few reasons for that.”
“What are they?”
“The Rebel Forces patrol around here and protect everyone, right?”
“That’s right. I told them to be prepared for any unforeseen dangers.”
“The children think the Rebel Forces are cool. They’re almost heroes here. The kids said they want to join the Rebel Forces too.”
“That won’t work. The children are too young.”
“Of course. That’s why I didn’t accept them.”
“But?”
“They keep asking how they can join the Rebel Forces. They must have found out that joining the Rebel Forces comes with insurance and a salary. After that, even more people wanted to join.”
“So you told them they need to study well to join the Rebel Forces?”
“Something like that. I said there would be an exam, and the exam would focus on what they learn at School. And I told them they’d need to be at least eighteen to take the exam.”
“Is that why they’re studying so hard? Because they want to become part of the Rebel Forces?”
“Yes.”
“It’s surprising, but you handled it well. Very well. You’re dependable, Simon.”
“When I look at these children and think about how I want them to grow up well, the answer comes naturally.”
He was trustworthy.
It was reassuring to have such people beside me.
It was comforting to have adults who cared about the children’s future nearby.
I was glad we built Unity Town.
“And I heard from the School teachers that quite a few children are actually studying. They started because of the Rebel Forces, but it turns out some of them have a real aptitude for academics.”
“Really? That’s good. If they want to, have them study more. Send them abroad for further education too.”
“Do you know what their dreams are?”
“What are their dreams?”
“To work for Unity Town. They love this place so much. They’re grateful. They want to live here their whole lives, work here, and dedicate themselves to Unity Town’s development.”
“That’s a wonderful aspiration.”
“And many people keep asking who built this place. So right now, I’m compiling a biography about your life story, Alex—”
“Don’t!!!”
“But at least people should know who built this—”
“Don’t. Absolutely don’t. No matter what happens, don’t. Just don’t do anything.”
“······”
“Fine. I won’t do anything then.”
Simon never wrote a biography about me.
But stories about me spread through oral tradition instead of the written word.
Tales passed from mouth to mouth gained flesh with each retelling, swelled, and became exaggerated.
I had become a legend.
More and more children in Unity Town wanted to work for me.
They wanted to be part of creating that legend.
.
.
.
“Why is it so hot here anyway? Isn’t the air conditioning on?”
The thought occurred to me while I was looking around the School.
It was sweltering.
With this much heat, it would be hard to concentrate.
But Simon answered as though it was natural not to turn it on.
“Air conditioning? How are we supposed to run air conditioning in a school?”
“Why not? Hotels run it, resorts run it, everyone runs it. We should too. Don’t we have air conditioning? Should I buy some?”
“Air conditioning isn’t the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“The problem is the electricity bill.”
“The electricity bill? Why would that matter?”
“Electricity here costs nearly twice as much as it does in South Korea. Considering the Philippines’ cost of living, it’s extraordinarily expensive. That’s why most households can’t even dream of air conditioning. Schools and government offices are the same.”
“Really? They can’t run air conditioning because of electricity bills?”
I hadn’t known.
That electricity in the Philippines was this expensive.
You’d only know if you’d paid the bills yourself.
I’d only ever lived in hotels.
The air conditioning ran twenty-four hours a day there.
I’d never given it a thought.
It was absurd, but on the other hand, I understood.
With electricity bills this high, they’d never even turned on air conditioning.
They might not have even conceived of running air conditioning at a school when they never used it at home.
“Doesn’t the school get any discounts? Or couldn’t they just pay more even if it’s expensive?”
“We tried bringing it up cautiously, but it doesn’t seem possible. They say they don’t make any profit themselves.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“The Zamboanga Electric Company. It’s a kind of cooperative. They receive electricity from outside and just distribute it, so they say they don’t make any profit either.”
Heh heh heh.
No profit?
You believe that?
Then they wouldn’t be running an electric company.
They’d have sold it off.
When I sold Assand, my margins exceeded a hundredfold,
yet I constantly spouted nonsense about how production costs were too high, labor expenses were substantial, facilities were expensive.
It was just pointless complaining.
Now that I thought about it, buying an electric company seemed like it would have many advantages.
Nowadays, household appliances are incredibly diverse.
Everything runs on electricity.
Phones, computers, air conditioning—even refrigerators and washing machines all require electricity.
Air conditioning isn’t the problem. Electricity is.
I wanted the people of Unity Town to be liberated from household chores through appliances and to have the opportunity to experience new conveniences.
I didn’t want to waste such a precious opportunity simply because of electricity bills.
I’d considered building a small-scale power system for Unity Town, but that didn’t seem like a good idea.
When I factored in the cost of constructing the system plus the operational expenses of production, the efficiency seemed too poor.
And unless I built an eco-friendly power plant, there would be continuous maintenance costs—it might end up being more trouble than it’s worth.
But if I bought an electric company?
We could supply electricity at lower prices.
We just need to reduce profit margins.
Though it might not be possible.
The production costs might already be too high to lower prices.
If it doesn’t work out, I’ll simply own an electricity company.
At least we could prevent electricity rates from rising too much, couldn’t we?
Once that thought crystallized, there was no need to hesitate.
I had money, and more importantly, I had the finest negotiator—someone who excelled at making deals.
The best negotiator who had never been outmaneuvered anywhere.
I called him.
“Sandro~ What are you doing? Want to come buy an electricity company with me?”
******
A container port near Zamboanga.
In one corner of the port’s open yard, an enormous quantity of containers were stacked.
Despite being an open area, security was remarkably tight.
Barbed wire fenced it in, and guards were posted.
And standing before those containers was Shin Jung-gi.
Screeeech
As the container door opened, it was packed with weapons received from China.
Shin Jung-gi gazed at those weapons with an enigmatic smile.
.
.
.
What frustrated me most during my time at ADD was the regulations.
We were making weapons designed to kill people, yet we couldn’t make them too brutal.
When I first heard that, I spent a long time thinking about it.
I couldn’t understand it.
So it was acceptable to kill people, but not to make them suffer?
Then wouldn’t it be better to create even stronger weapons to eliminate everyone?
But they said stronger weapons weren’t allowed either.
The goal was to develop weapons that could strike designated targets with precision.
What kind of nonsense was that?
If that’s the case, why make weapons at all? We might as well meet and have a debate.
That’s why I transferred to the radar development department instead of weapon development.
I had no confidence in creating safe and humane weapons.
It’s not like making a hot iced Americano.
But here, there were no such constraints.
No constraints whatsoever.
In the arms trafficking business, lethality was the answer.
Everyone wanted more powerful weapons.
Safety features were a minor concern if the weapon was powerful enough.
Strength was all that mattered.
Shin Jung-gi’s first modification was to extend the magazine capacity of the rifle.
In movies, it always seemed odd that shooters had to stop firing to swap magazines.
If you simply lengthened the magazine to hold more ammunition, the problem would be solved.
It was strange that such a straightforward solution wasn’t implemented more often.
Of course, there were minor drawbacks.
The added weight shifted the center of gravity, making handling slightly awkward.
The extended length occasionally caught on things during movement.
Some users had reportedly been injured because they couldn’t fire quickly enough due to these issues,
but that was something the operators had to accept and overcome—it had nothing to do with me.
Surprisingly, the extended magazines received excellent feedback.
Orders kept coming in.
Emboldened by this success, I wanted to modify more weapons.
But there was a shortage of weapons to work with.
Rifles, pistols, and ammunition were easy enough to acquire.
Even grenades could be obtained with some effort, but moving beyond that tier became difficult.
Even rocket launchers were hard to come by.
Of course, that didn’t apply to the RPG-7, which was called Alabong.
But then massive quantities of diverse weapons began flowing in from China.
And word was they would continue to arrive smoothly.
I would be able to receive weapons continuously.
Dennis had already left on a business trip to conduct door-to-door sales, while I disassembled the weapons, researching how to modify them to inflict maximum casualties on enemies.
This was the most exhilarating and enjoyable time of my life.
A smile refused to leave my lips.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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