I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 179

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

179 – Project Mangwol
179.
The Osaka gun incident was resolved with remarkable speed.
Too remarkable, in fact.
Everyone knew it.
This case couldn’t possibly be that simple.
The firearms were Type 89 rifles used by the Japan Self-Defense Forces.
At least two or more weapons had been deployed.
For the yakuza to obtain such weapons was realistically impossible.
The police, prosecutors, and Public Security Bureau couldn’t have been unaware of this fact.
Yet the deeper the investigation went,
the more the evidence seemed to evaporate.
There was no trace of weapons leaking from anywhere,
and the Japan Self-Defense Forces armory inventory was flawless—
every single number matched the physical count.
The research institute was the same.
Only the defense contractors remained.
But the moment investigators pressed the defense contractors too hard,
the case transcended a simple weapons loss incident and became a matter of national dignity.
‘Weapons are being illegally distributed within our own borders.’
That single sentence alone would crack diplomacy, national security, and exports.
The government understood this perfectly.
The investigation lost direction.
The deeper they dug, the worse it would become.
Yet digging yielded nothing.
They couldn’t simply cling to this case indefinitely.
Then it happened.
News arrived of Miyamoto’s death—the Defense Equipment Agency’s Export Strategy Division Director.
The timing was impeccable.
Perfect.
Evidence was discovered in his office and personal computer.
Suspicious overseas account records.
Documents absent from the ledgers,
contracts of unknown origin.
While there was no decisive evidence directly proving the weapons leak, the circumstantial evidence was sufficient to explain the suspicions.
Even within the investigation team, suspicious glances were exchanged.
‘Something’s off.’
‘It fits together too perfectly.’
There were far more than one or two suspicious elements.
But what mattered now wasn’t the truth.
What was needed now was the ‘closure’ of this case.
The government had come to understand.
They could not continue dragging this matter out.
That exposing the truth would not serve the nation’s interests.
Regardless of what emerged, the conclusion remained the same.
Miyamoto was already dead.
He could neither protest nor deny anything.
The moment they pinned responsibility on him,
this case would become one of personal corruption.
Not a systemic failure of the state, the defense contractors, or their mechanisms—but a tragedy born of individual greed.
That conclusion was the most rational for both the government and the defense industry.
The narrative took shape.
The defense contractors moved swiftly.
Miyamoto had leveraged his authority to pressure the companies all along,
demanding bribes in exchange for expediting exports and approvals.
The contractors had no choice but to comply, however reluctantly.
The explanation was that refusal would result in administrative disadvantages.
The actions remained identical, yet the positions of victim and perpetrator had reversed.
“We will ensure such incidents never occur again.”
“We will strengthen internal controls further.”
“We will cooperate more actively with government oversight and supervision.”
Though these were promises they would never keep, the contractors made them, and the government accepted them.
They were partners who would have to move forward together regardless.
Defense contractors were essential to national security,
and the government could not turn its back on them completely.
They were bound together—there was no reason to quarrel and lose face.
A sealing was necessary.
Miyamoto bore all the burden.
That was how they decided to proceed.
Days later.
The Osaka gun incident was officially closed.
‘Illegal weapons trafficking resulting from personal misconduct by a high-ranking Defense Equipment Agency official. The individual chose an extreme measure and died.’
In mere lines, the incident that claimed dozens of lives in Osaka was resolved.
The frozen relations between the government and defense contractors thawed rapidly.
Meetings resumed with laughter, and reports were filled with formal language once more.
And in the hands of those departing with smiles, each carried a USB drive.
It was simply one incident resolved—a case of individual transgression.
But everyone knew.
This wasn’t resolved; it was merely covered up.
This method was convenient for everyone involved.
Everyone except Miyamoto was smiling.
*******
Unity Town, Philippines.
Kwon Ju-ah’s path to her lodging after finishing her medical rounds.
“Doctor Kwon.”
At the voice calling from behind, Kwon Ju-ah stopped in her tracks.
“Yes?”
It was Simon.
Simon, the Rebel Forces leader.
The administrator of Unity Town.
When Simon called out to Kwon Ju-ah, she was taken aback.
Why?
What could he want?
Simon was the person in charge here.
Yet he always treated Kwon Ju-ah with utmost respect.
He never issued orders or made demands of her.
In fact, he kept his distance entirely.
It was consideration rather than indifference.
I could sense his careful approach even in everyday interactions.
He maintained clear boundaries.
So it felt somewhat unusual for Simon to approach me with conversation.
Simon opened his mouth to speak.
“Would you have a moment to talk?”
“Of course.”
The two of them moved to the Community Center.
“How are you finding life here?”
“It’s wonderful. The weather is lovely, and Unity Town is a great place.”
“I’m glad to hear that. If there’s anything inconvenient, please don’t hesitate to tell me.”
“Thank you. But if there’s something you wanted to discuss…”
Kwon Ju-ah wanted to get to the point quickly.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“I heard that South Korea is launching the K-ORIGIN Project.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about it.”
“We’re planning to send some children there, and I was wondering if you could provide them with some basic education before they go.”
“Pardon?”
“Would it be possible to teach them practical tips that would help in daily life—things like proper greetings, cultural customs, public transportation, ordering food, currency units, that sort of thing?”
“Hmm…”
Kwon Ju-ah paused to consider.
The children came to mind.
The first image that came to mind was a smiling face.
Children approaching, asking me to teach them Korean.
I hoped those children wouldn’t get lost in Seoul.
“Of course. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know the class schedule separately. And thank you for coming here. You’re truly a tremendous help. I’m genuinely grateful.”
Simon was expressing his gratitude sincerely.
A brief silence fell, and Kwon Ju-ah hesitated before opening her mouth.
Kwon Ju-ah decided to ask something she was curious about while she had the chance.
Her curiosity centered on one person: In-bae, Alex.
No matter how much I thought about it, there was no one who could tell me about Alex.
I’d asked several people, but instead of answers, they only offered enigmatic smiles.
Simon seemed like he might know the answer.
“Um, is it okay if I ask you something?”
“Of course. Anything at all.”
“What kind of person is Alex?”
Simon didn’t answer Kwon Ju-ah’s question immediately.
He gazed into empty space for a long moment.
It seemed as though he was contemplating something deeply.
“This is the first time I’ve been asked this question.”
“Really?”
“No one ever mentions the name Alex directly. They simply feel it, give thanks, and pray.”
“Really?”
She asked what kind of person he was, yet he gave an answer that seemed completely off-topic.
“You asked what kind of person he is, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well… it’s even harder to know how much I should tell you.”
Simon spoke in increasingly cryptic terms.
“Ordinary people have reasons for their actions. They have purposes, and behind those purposes come interests and desires.”
“Alex doesn’t have any of that. There’s no calculation in his actions, no regret. He simply and quietly does what he believes is right.”
Kwon Ju-ah tilted her head in confusion.
She wasn’t even sure if the person Simon was describing was really Alex.
“I don’t quite understand.”
“You’ve seen the children here, haven’t you? Children who were starving and abused found laughter here. Alex created all of this. But he doesn’t even want to leave his name behind. He certainly doesn’t want gratitude. He’s satisfied simply knowing the children are growing up well.”
“But why does everyone follow him so devotedly?”
Simon paused at Kwon Ju-ah’s question before continuing.
“Because he never forces anything. He believes people must forge their own paths. He believes everyone has the right to live their own life. And he helps everyone live the life they choose.”
“He frees the children from worrying about other things. He helps the children here run toward their dreams with peace of mind.”
“Run toward your dreams. I’ll handle the rest myself.”
“He doesn’t expect trophies from the children. If a child is happy, that’s enough for him.”
“These children have never experienced such kindness before. That’s why they’re grateful.”
“The K-ORIGIN Project is an extension of that vision. It’s essentially a vocational school for the children of Unity Town.”
“Everyone lives their own life. Alex creates the path for them to pursue their dreams.”
“And by providing them with a warm sanctuary, there’s no reason not to follow him.”
Kwon Ju-ah’s mind grew even more tangled.
I had asked the question out of curiosity about Alex and In-bae,
yet he was becoming an increasingly enigmatic figure.
“But why does everyone call him Young Boss? Looking at what he does, other titles would seem more fitting. Founder, Boss, Commander…”
“Alex asked to be called that.”
This time, the answer came quickly.
“Why?”
“He says ‘Young Boss’ is sufficient. Alex has no interest in power, titles, or money. He dislikes ruling from above or standing below. He simply wants everyone to live their own lives.”
“Is that how he built Unity Town here?”
“Something like that. He wanted the children to gain new lives. It required considerable funding, but he never regretted spending it.”
“What? I heard Alex only provided the ideas, and other companies funded it.”
“Those companies all belong to Alex. You could say the Rebel Forces were created by Alex too. I simply command them on his behalf.”
“Really?”
“There’s nothing Alex lacks here in the Philippines. He wields more authority than the President and possesses more wealth than the nation’s largest corporations. Tremendous influence. Precisely because he has such power, he’s more cautious. He lives carefully so his presence doesn’t harm others. He always stays one step back.”
Kwon Ju-ah fell silent.
Could the In-bae from high school and the Alex in the Philippines really be the same person?
It felt as though he had become someone entirely different.
The disparity between the two was that vast.
Yet the In-bae before me, in this present reality, remained unchanged.
Somewhat indifferent and cynical, yet always attentive.
Always honest and comforting—that was In-bae.
So I decided to stop wondering.
I decided to stop investigating.
It didn’t matter who In-bae was.
I simply chose to care for him.
Wasn’t that enough?
.
.
.
At that same moment.
Shin Jung-gi sat before his monitor.
His face was different from his usual expressionless demeanor.
His pupils trembled faintly, and an indecipherable smile appeared and vanished repeatedly at the corners of his mouth.
It was as though suppressed emotions were bursting forth uncontrollably.
On the monitor displayed the blueprints for Project Mangwol.
One page, then another.
With each layer he turned, familiar structures and unfamiliar details were simultaneously revealed.
What I thought I had lost.
What I had resigned myself to never seeing again.
It was now unfolding before Shin Jung-gi’s eyes once more.
It felt like a child I believed dead had returned to life.
Shin Jung-gi had no children,
and even if he did, he would never have invested such affection—yet this was all he could think of.
As he opened the file, blueprints and development logs spread across the screen.
Dates, meeting records, modifications, failure logs.
Each line stirred his memory.
Shin Jung-gi found himself holding his breath without realizing it.
He was a man who had never wept in his entire life.
Shin Jung-gi believed sorrow, anger, and despair were unnecessary emotions.
That was why people called him a psychopath.
But the moment the blueprints of Project Mangwol appeared on screen,
he could not stop the burning sensation rising to his eyes.
His entire life had been upended,
forced to abandon South Korea and live in the Philippines—
all because of this damned “Project Mangwol.”
Shin Jung-gi had been the driving force behind its development.
Whenever progress stalled, he provided direction and threw out ideas.
It was Shin Jung-gi who crystallized vague concepts and restructured the formulas and architecture.
Though not officially the PM, his contributions were no less substantial.
That was why he knew every structure of Project Mangwol.
The entire design and concept remained etched in his mind.
But that was all.
He could not recreate it from scratch.
He could not replicate it perfectly.
Project Mangwol was that complex, that meticulous, that sophisticated a technology.
Intelligence alone could not allow one to memorize blueprints wholesale.
But now the blueprints existed.
And the development logs existed as well.
With these, everything changed.
Shin Jung-gi’s hand moved slowly across the mouse.
He examined the blueprints once more.
Zooming in, zooming out, separating layers to inspect them.
“Ha···”
A short breath escaped him.
It was the sound of suppressed excitement.
Something surged powerfully within Shin Jung-gi.
With these materials, not only could Project Mangwol be restored,
I could elevate it one step further.
The structure could be simplified even more.
Developing weapons in the Philippines taught me an enormous amount.
Without the constraints of safety, I began to see things I hadn’t before.
Weapons don’t need to be complex.
The more complex they become, the greater the likelihood of malfunction and failure.
A weapon is simply the technology to kill.
If it does that well, that’s all that matters.
I wondered how many derivative technologies could emerge from Project Mangwol’s foundation.
Anticipation transformed into exhilaration.
A smile bloomed across my expressionless face.
.
.
.
While Shin Jung-gi was absorbed in the monitor, Toto stood behind him.
Toto was learning countless techniques and knowledge not only from Shin Jung-gi but also from Edward, Tian Zihao, Dennis, and Simon.
He had come to bring materials Shin Jung-gi requested, and seeing him concentrating on something, he watched along with him.
At first, he didn’t understand and had to watch for quite some time, but gradually it became clear.
Toto had learned much from Shin Jung-gi over this period.
After watching for a while, Toto spoke to Shin Jung-gi.
“This is a real goldmine. There are so many techniques we can extract and use.”
Shin Jung-gi showed no surprise at those words.
He had known Toto was there from the beginning.
“You see it that way too?”
Shin Jung-gi spoke without even turning his head.
Both continued staring at the monitor.
Countless ideas seemed to flood their minds.
Their hands grew busy.
They continued writing something down by hand.
In their hastily scribbled notes, the seeds of new weapons were taking root.
Becoming a black market magnate through inventory.
179 – Project Mangwol
E-book Publication
/ January 23, 2026
Author
/ Black Card
Publisher
/ Son Je-ho
Published by
/ Munpia
Address
/ Doosan Landmark Tower 12F, 308 Gangnam-daero, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
List Price
/ 100 Won
https://munpia.com
[email protected]
© Black Card, 2026
This e-book is
Munpia
published in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder, and
Munpia
without written permission, this e-book and its contents may not be used in any form or by any means.
This e-book is a work protected by copyright law, and unauthorized reproduction or copying may result in legal liability.
979-11-11-99634-4

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