I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 120

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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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120 – Zamboanga Electric Company
120
“So you’re saying you want to purchase the electric company right now?”
Patrick asked, his expression tinged with bewilderment.
I found Patrick’s reaction rather odd.
Wasn’t expanding ventures Patrick’s specialty?
Why would this surprise him?
Was the scale too small?
Should I have proposed controlling electricity across all of the Philippines?
Whenever I mentioned creating electrical infrastructure in Unity Town,
Patrick would be the one to escalate the proposal, suggesting, “Why not acquire the entire electric company instead?” Yet now he seemed hesitant.
It was strange.
What was going on?
“Have you looked into the Zamboanga Electric Company?”
“No, I decided to buy the electric company and came straight here with Simon.”
I answered cheerfully, and Simon nodded proudly beside me.
Patrick, who had been contemplating for a moment, spoke carefully.
“I understand your intentions well. The purpose is sound. However, I think purchasing the electric company requires careful consideration.”
“Why? Are you worried about the cost? I have the money.”
“No. They’ll likely sell it for a pittance if you’re only buying it.”
“What?”
What was he talking about?
They’d sell it cheaply if I only wanted to buy it?
That didn’t make sense.
They charge such exorbitant electricity rates.
Money flows in effortlessly even without lifting a finger.
The profits must be enormous.
No one willingly surrenders a pipeline they’ve painstakingly built.
They’d never part with a honey pot that continuously generates revenue.
If they sold at all, they’d demand an astronomical price.
That’s why I’d contacted Sandro as well—
to negotiate the lowest possible price.
Yet Patrick was saying something entirely different.
That if I only wanted to purchase it, I could acquire it at a bargain price.
But Patrick’s subsequent explanation made everything clear.
“Electricity is one of the critical infrastructure assets managed and overseen by our City Hall. The electric company’s CEO comes begging us to take the company off their hands.”
“Why? Isn’t the electric company profitable?”
“No. They’re hemorrhaging money.”
“But the electricity rates are so high?”
“You have to consider the unit cost of electricity production. Since that cost itself is expensive, the supply expenses are inevitably high.”
I hadn’t considered that angle.
I’d been operating under the prejudice that anyone selling this stuff was inherently corrupt.
Money-obsessed lunatics,
so blinded by greed they’d do anything for a profit.
People so consumed by numbers they couldn’t see human beings anymore.
I’d assumed they were parasites feeding off the blood of the Filipino people, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
The situation diverging from my expectations left me conflicted.
My objective had been to acquire the electric company and lower those exorbitant rates.
To enable the people of Unity Town, the citizens of Zamboanga, to use electricity at more affordable prices.
To let them use the countless appliances that run on electricity without worry.
But they weren’t profiteering—the production costs were simply high.
Noticing my hesitation at this unexpected turn, Patrick made a suggestion.
“Why don’t you meet with him and discuss it? Chairman Magiting is the representative of the Zamboanga Electric Company. I think it would be worthwhile to meet him once.”
.
.
“Good day. I’m Magiting.”
Simon and I visited the Zamboanga Electric Company and met with Chairman Magiting.
He appeared to be in his fifties or sixties.
The formal suit, complete with a vest, suited him well.
Not entirely white-haired, but with considerable silver threading through.
It complemented his dignified voice perfectly.
His eyes held a kindness that was striking.
He carried the refined elegance of his years.
“Good day. I’m Alex. And this is Simon.”
“I’m well acquainted with Captain Simon.”
“Pardon? You know me?”
Simon’s expression registered bewilderment.
Simon didn’t know him, yet the man claimed to know Simon—naturally, he was caught off guard.
Observing this, Magiting smiled warmly and spoke.
“Is there anyone living here in Zamboanga who doesn’t know Captain Simon, leader of the Rebel Forces? It’s an honor to meet you.”
Only then did Simon seem to relax somewhat.
So it wasn’t a personal acquaintance after all.
“Then the person here must be the ‘Ruler of the South.’ Judging by how respectfully Captain Simon treats you.”
“What? That’s not… I’m not that kind of person.”
It was a title I’d never heard before.
What a gauche epithet—Ruler of the South.
Yet Simon didn’t deny it.
In fact, he seemed to be sending Magiting an affirmative glance.
Me? With such a tacky title?
That can’t be right.
I have a name—Alex.
And Simon doesn’t even show me proper respect.
As I’m about to make an excuse, Simon leans in and whispers quietly to me.
“Some people call you that. So I just assumed it was true.”
The nickname “Ruler of the South” is apparently what political and business figures call me.
Recent events unfolding in the south have been quite different from before.
The Rebel Forces’ war, the Akbayan ng Katarungan party, the Mindanao elections—someone was definitely orchestrating everything behind the scenes.
But I couldn’t pinpoint exactly who.
The general public probably doesn’t care much.
But political and business figures have apparently maintained steady interest.
For them, information was money, and it was a weapon.
That’s why they simply call me the Ruler of the South among themselves.
Simon glances cautiously around before answering carefully.
“That’s correct.”
Magiting’s expression brightens at Simon’s confirmation.
“I was worried I might have spoken out of turn without knowing the full story, but I’m relieved. I brought it up because I genuinely wanted to express my gratitude if I ever got the chance to meet you.”
“Express your gratitude?”
“Yes. My thanks for everything the Ruler of the South has done for us. Simply eliminating those brutal and merciless Rebel Forces is cause for gratitude. Beyond that, you’ve created massive employment opportunities, provided insurance and wages. And now you’re working tirelessly on infrastructure expansion, aren’t you? It’s truly remarkable. Among us, we say that even in a hundred years we couldn’t accomplish what you’ve done in an instant. The praise is extraordinary.”
“Well…”
Of course, I didn’t do it alone.
We all came together and did it.
But if I deny it, the conversation just gets longer.
In situations like this, it’s best to just deflect.
“Ah… yes…”
“I too, as a citizen of Zamboanga before being the representative of the Zamboanga Electric Company, express my deepest gratitude.”
Magiting expresses his thanks with utmost sincerity.
“I haven’t done anything so grand. Thank you for viewing it so favorably. Though compared to what Chairman Magiting has accomplished, my efforts pale in comparison.”
Kind words beget kind words in return.
Since I’ve received praise, I can only respond with praise.
I don’t know what Magiting has actually done, but I say it anyway.
“That’s not true. The fact that you’ve come here speaks volumes. How much you must love the citizens of Zamboanga to visit the electric company yourself. Just thinking about it moves me.”
“…”
“I founded this company thirty years ago. It was in terrible condition back then. I realized we needed electricity. So I joined forces with others and established the electric company. That became the Zamboanga Electric Company.”
Magiting closes his eyes briefly, lost in memories of the past.
I can see the image of Magiting from those earlier days.
Magiting was born in Zamboanga.
But he couldn’t make money in Zamboanga.
Zamboanga was that impoverished.
He went to Manila and worked as a technician at a power subcontracting company.
There, he accumulated expertise through various construction projects, and started a company with several others.
The company became a massive success.
Especially after securing technology outsourcing contracts with overseas construction firms, it had grown into an enormously large enterprise.
After his success, Magiting returned not to Manila, but to Zamboanga.
The city’s deteriorating infrastructure continued to weigh on his mind.
Electricity was what Magiting excelled at.
He joined forces with the locals and established the Zamboanga Electric Company.
Driven by a single conviction: to bring electricity to the citizens of Zamboanga.
But nothing went according to Magiting’s vision.
First, building the electrical infrastructure required an astronomical amount of capital.
Erecting utility poles, installing transformers, laying transmission lines—every single step demanded money.
Each component drained the coffers.
The government provided subsidies, but they fell woefully short.
Conflicts arose during the process.
He clashed with investors who saw only profit margins.
They wanted to charge exorbitant electricity rates.
Rather than supplying power to all neighborhoods, they preferred servicing only the wealthy districts.
This direction fundamentally contradicted Magiting’s principles.
A battle over equity ensued, and ultimately the investors withdrew their capital and departed.
That’s when the real crisis began.
Funds became critically scarce.
Magiting took bank loans and liquidated his personal fortune to keep the company afloat.
The wealth that would have sustained him for life without ever working again—it all evaporated into thin air.
As a last resort, he even sold shares of the company he had founded to raise capital.
Yet the situation never improved.
In fact, it deteriorated further.
Despite operating with maximum efficiency and frugality, conditions worsened.
The annual deficit continued to expand.
“We’re posting losses every year. Substantial ones, at that.”
Magiting laid out the situation candidly for us.
“But if electricity rates are so high, how can you be running a deficit? The revenue you’re collecting must be enormous.”
Magiting nodded as though the answer were obvious.
“That’s understandable if you don’t understand the distribution process. The truth is, we only distribute electricity—we don’t generate it. We have no power plants. We’re forced to purchase electricity. Now that a few power plants have been built within Mindanao, prices have dropped somewhat, but previously we had to source electricity produced in Luzon. The costs were astronomical, and the transmission losses alone were staggering.”
No power plants?
So they buy all their electricity, and that’s expensive?
“What about now?”
“It’s still expensive. We acquire electricity at approximately 11 pesos per kilowatt-hour—about 272 won. But we charge citizens roughly 10 pesos per kilowatt-hour—about 247 won.”
“I’m sorry?”
What is he talking about?
They’re selling it cheaper than what they’re buying it for?
This makes no sense whatsoever.
“You don’t understand, do you? I don’t understand myself either. But we’re not insane—we’ve factored in every government subsidy and loss compensation. We’ve thrown in all the fees too. Honestly, if we only did this, the numbers would nearly balance.”
“Yet you mentioned massive annual deficits?”
“Yes. Looking at electricity fees alone, we’re nearly at zero. The problem is maintenance. The infrastructure we’ve already installed is severely outdated. We have to replace transformers, distribution lines, and substations. We need to pay our employees. We have to repair meters and distribution panels to prevent accidents. When you add all these things up, the costs become astronomical.”
“How were you planning to cover the shortfall?”
“Honestly, there’s no solution. To be frank, raising electricity rates would solve everything, but then there’d be no point in founding this company. Besides, if I raise rates, people will use less electricity, and revenue will drop even further.”
Listening to Magiting’s explanation, I finally grasped the situation.
The cost of electricity Magiting receives is expensive.
Yet to ensure smooth distribution, he prices it at a loss.
But maintenance costs continue to mount, creating a widening deficit.
Raising prices reduces consumption and revenue.
Lowering prices means the cost is too high—the more he sells, the more he loses.
The more people use, the greater the losses.
He’s trapped between raising and lowering prices.
That’s when I looked at Magiting again.
His once-pristine suit was worn and frayed in many places.
His white hair seemed like evidence of his worries.
Magiting looked aged.
I asked him carefully.
“If you were to sell the Zamboanga Electric Company, what price would you have in mind?”
“A selling price? I’ve never even considered it. As you know, we have substantial debt. The reason I’ve been pleading with Patrick Mayor is that without government backing, there’s nowhere else that would operate a company that only consumes money.”
“So what would the price be?”
“If you assume the debt, I can give it to you for zero pesos.”
“Surely you must feel some regret, having devoted your entire life to this place?”
“I’m satisfied with how much I’ve accomplished. I was happier as an engineer. Being a manager is far too exhausting.”
“What about your retirement?”
“Well, things have a way of working themselves out, don’t they?”
I was at a loss.
I’d never negotiated like this before.
I didn’t know what to do.
I wished Magiting were a bad person.
Then I could act recklessly.
I could curse and threaten.
I could slash the price arbitrarily.
I could even seize it by force.
But he’s so good and virtuous that I’ve become the villain.
I am a villain, after all.
Yet there’s no room for negotiation.
He’s offering it for free.
He only asks that I assume the debt.
It’s clear he doesn’t want to burden others.
I don’t have the audacity to tell someone like that, “I can’t take on this debt.”
But when they offer to give it away for free, there’s so much that gives me pause.
The debt, infrastructure construction costs, maintenance expenses, high raw material prices, labor costs.
It doesn’t look like things would improve if I took over operations.
If I accepted it, I’d become a money-devouring ghost.
I’d end up bearing an enormous loss in Magiting’s place.
Above all, I’m not as good a person as Magiting.
I don’t have any grand conviction or purpose either.
I’m just at the level of trying it out and dropping it if it doesn’t work.
So I could just drop this whole thing.
Yet strangely, I found myself reluctant.
I could neither accept nor refuse.
I simply stared at the frayed hem of Magiting’s clothes.
******
Wei Zhonglin, who seized power through a coup.
But the chaos continued unabated.
There were no signs of it subsiding.
Despite strengthening censorship and banning protests, people gathered and continued their demonstrations against Wei Zhonglin.
I’d thought all the good Chinese people were dead, but apparently some still remained.
Wei Zhonglin was holding a meeting with his trusted subordinates whom he’d installed in power.
He was searching for a way to end this chaos.
“Any good ideas?”
“Wouldn’t it be wise to create an external enemy during such turbulent times?”
“Good thinking. It’s a strategy from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. So which target would be best to attack?”
“Tibet would seem most suitable.”
“Tibet? If we fight them, it becomes a civil war. Are you suggesting we fight ourselves?”
“That’s not it. Since they’ve declared independence, we should make an example of them. We must bring Tibet back under control one way or another. In that sense…”
“Enough. Get that bastard out of here. What nonsense is he spouting? We need to create an external enemy, not start a civil war. What was I thinking putting him on the State Council?”
The man who had spoken was dragged out by Central Guard personnel.
“Any other opinions? Nothing? Are you all going to handle state affairs so carelessly and halfheartedly? Did I appoint you to the State Council just to slack off?”
“My apologies.”
“I’m still thinking.”
A considerable time passed before someone cautiously offered an opinion.
“What if we increased the distribution of Assand?”
“What?”
“According to the intelligence I’ve gathered, Director Zhou Chiming ordered a copy of the Assand concentrate before his death.”
“And?”
“They succeeded in copying the Assand concentrate.”
“Hahahaha. Really? Director Zhou Chiming did great work for China before he died.”
“We can significantly reduce the manufacturing cost of Assand. Then we have the media extensively report the news that we’re supplying it to the entire population at very low prices. The moment the news spreads, people’s attention will focus entirely on Assand. Wouldn’t that be sufficient?”
Wei Zhonglin’s expression brightened as he heard the proposal.
Distributing Assand to the entire nation?
The mere thought of it sent a thrilling surge through him.
“Proceed with it.”
.
.
Meanwhile, the National Drug Supervisor Director paced anxiously through his office, unable to sit still.
The new MSS director had pressed him so aggressively for results that he’d claimed success—but the truth was far different.
He’d created something similar, but it wasn’t perfectly identical.
Yet the relentless questioning had forced him to say it was successful, or more precisely, nearly successful.
And they’d accepted that as success.
Now they were demanding mass production plans.
There was no way to say “nearly” now.
He had no choice but to insist this was the genuine Assand.

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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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