I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 180

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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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180 – Business Consulting
180.
I had gone through considerable effort just to meet with Kurokawa Renji.
They say he’s at the apex of the Japanese Yakuza, yet why is he so paranoid?
He stays hidden away, refusing to show himself at all.
We had to travel all the way to Wakkanai in Hokkaido before we could finally meet with Kurokawa.
Wakkanai is a city located at Japan’s northernmost point,
more than 1,000 kilometers away from Tokyo, Kurokawa’s home base.
And it was less than 50 kilometers from Russia’s Sakhalin Island.
In other words, it was a city where one could smuggle into Russia at any moment.
That was Wakkanai.
In other words.
Kurokawa had prepared an escape route to Russia in case problems arose.
The Yakuza boss who had been putting on airs had fled all the way to Wakkanai the moment trouble started.
“It’s been a while.”
“How did you even find this place?”
“Well, there are plenty of ways to find someone. It’s not like you’re hiding in the Amazon jungle—Wakkanai is easy enough to locate. We have an intelligence team, after all.”
“I’m not particularly pleased.”
Kurokawa’s expression was clearly displeased.
“After all I’ve done for you, is this how you greet me? This really hurts my feelings.”
“There’s plenty to feel hurt about. The situation isn’t good right now. So let’s just drop it. Nothing can be done at the moment.”
Kurokawa cut me off before I could even open my mouth.
He was saying he’d stay hidden no matter what.
“You’re being hurtful again. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then why did you come all this way?”
“Business consulting.”
“I’m not taking any more of that.”
“Why not?”
“Because last time you got me guns and look at the mess we’re in now. It’s your fault.”
Kurokawa’s voice rose slightly.
Last time, I had given Type 89 assault rifles to all twenty organizations.
Along with a billion won incentive.
Because of the rifles I provided, the Yakuza had engaged in a massive firefight,
and crackdowns on Yakuza activity had begun.
Thanks to that, everyone went into hiding, so he had every right to resent me.
“You speak strangely. Chinese are constantly trying to enter Japan, and Russians are sniffing around too, so I got you guns to protect yourselves—and now it’s my fault?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Why do the Yakuza fight among themselves, and then blame me for helping? Is this the kind of place where you repay kindness with resentment?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I gave you money, I gave you guns—I did my best.”
“But with results like these, I’m frustrated too.”
Kurokawa Renji seemed equally disappointed and aggrieved by the unexpected outcome.
“Did I think it would turn out like this? I was simply showing trust. Don’t you understand my position?”
“I don’t. And I don’t want to.”
Kurokawa Renji glanced at me sideways as he asked.
“But there haven’t been any deposits lately. What’s going on?”
Was this old man still expecting money even now?
He had no shame whatsoever.
“How can I make deposits when you’re not doing the work?”
“What?”
“Our agreement was clear. Information gathering. And 100 million daily.”
“That’s… true.”
“But the information isn’t being uploaded. So how can I keep sending money?”
“You still have to. Our situation is a mess right now.”
“Sir. This isn’t right. Is there anyone in the world without circumstances? If you keep making exceptions, it never ends. That’s why we have contracts.”
Kurokawa Renji’s head drooped.
His eyes showed reluctant acceptance, though he disliked it.
I decided to change the mood and spoke up.
“By the way, sir, do you know the saying ‘the old man’s loss’?”
“The old man’s loss? Of course I do. It means the fortunes of life are unpredictable, right? Good things can become bad, and bad things can become good.”
“Oh. It seems you studied a bit back in school. You know it well.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Don’t you think now is that kind of opportunity?”
“What opportunity?”
“Unifying Japan. Now is the time. The chance to consolidate the Yakuza.”
“Kahahaha. If you were trying to make me laugh, you succeeded. That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard in the last twenty years.”
Kurokawa Renji laughed so hard he clutched his stomach.
“I’m not joking.”
“If you’re so confident, why don’t you do it yourself?”
Kurokawa Renji’s voice grew quiet.
“I have no interest in Japanese territory. I’m doing well enough without it. I’m saying this for your sake, sir.”
“Who do you think you are? You come out of hiding and spout nonsense like this?”
Kurokawa Renji deliberately showed his irritation.
But that was proof he was interested.
If he weren’t interested, he wouldn’t even ask.
Yet he was afraid.
Then I needed to give him some courage.
“It’s not nonsense—think about how attractive the current situation is.”
“What?”
“The Yakuza are all weakened now. They’ve become vulnerable. It’s the perfect opportunity to unify them.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. And if we start a war now, we’ll just disappear. You think the Police will let us be?”
“Isn’t your thinking a bit too old-fashioned? Who fights with guns and blades these days? You have to use your head.”
“Is there any method?”
“There’s a method only you can use.”
“Only me?”
“Yes. A method only you can use. ‘Merger’.”
“Merger?”
“The Yakuza is struggling. As the elder statesmen of this world, we need to combine our strength. Become one. Won’t they gather then?”
“Do you really think they’ll gather for that?”
“If they bring their Organization Members, I’ll preserve their positions. How about it? I think they’ll come over if we throw some money at them.”
“… Hmm…”
Kurokawa Renji seemed lost in thought.
It was as if he were running simulations.
Considering how the Yakuza would respond.
“You’re like a symbol to the Yakuza. If someone else proposed unification, there’d be strong resistance, but if you suggested it, they’d follow. You have that symbolic weight, and it doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”
“The opposition would be fierce.”
“Opposition? Living as a Yakuza is hard these days anyway. They’d actually think it’s the right move and come over. Don’t give them grief when they arrive—treat them with respect. If you approach it as welcoming them, they’ll all come. Just say you’ll pay them salaries.”
Kurokawa Renji closed his eyes.
The life of a Yakuza was truly miserable.
The glorious days had been brief.
Like a midsummer night’s dream.
Now they had no proper occupation, no social standing.
Even if they wanted to live decently, the system made it impossible.
If you could offer such Yakuza a new life, they would come without hesitation.
“Solve it with money. If it can be solved that way, it’ll be the cheapest option. I’ll invest the money.”
“You won’t fund it forever. We need a business, but there’s no suitable venture. Liquor distribution isn’t easy, and loan sharking is difficult.”
Kurokawa Renji seemed to still be living in the glorious Yakuza days.
Or rather, he was still stuck there.
Liquor wholesale, loan sharking—such outdated notions.
“You keep trying to do high-end operations, which is why life is so hard. You need to do grassroots work.”
“Grassroots work? What kind?”
“Waste disposal.”
“What?”
“Buy some land in a remote area and turn it into a waste disposal facility. Not general garbage—handle industrial waste separately.”
“That’s not easy.”
Negative.
“So you want to just do easy things and spend your whole life pulling pachinko handles until you drop dead? You should secure at least one legitimate-looking venture for your successors.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s all the regulations and laws…”
“Anyone listening would think you’re starting a startup. Why would a Yakuza follow every law there is?”
“Then?”
“You do sloppy work, pay the fine, close down, and start over. It’s not very Yakuza of you to be so honest.”
“That’s not it···.”
Kurokawa Renji, who had been thinking for a moment, seemed to remember something and asked me a question.
“But what do you gain from doing this? It seems like money just goes out and there’s nothing left. Don’t you have some ulterior motive?”
“Me? Why would I gain nothing? I gain you, old man.”
Kurokawa Renji’s expression changed.
His face looked deeply moved.
Wait? He shouldn’t misunderstand like this.
That’s not what I meant.
What I said was that as long as I have you, old man, I can use the organization however I want.
That I can command a unified Yakuza.
It seems the old man has seriously misunderstood.
That’s not what I meant.
But before I could clarify, the old man spoke first.
“Give me one day.”
“Take all the time you need.”
The old man created that one day and left.
I deliberately didn’t tell Kurokawa Renji that the Osaka incident had been concluded.
The Osaka incident was under a media blackout, so the Yakuza couldn’t confirm whether the case was resolved.
That’s probably why they’re still hiding.
But that would ease his worries.
******
“I’ll be heading in now.”
Baek Dong-hyun, Overseas Information Bureau Director of the National Intelligence Service, set down his glass as he spoke.
He had already been sitting there for over an hour.
He felt he had done his duty as a member sufficiently.
“Director Baek, one more drink?”
The Congressman sitting across from him picked up the bottle.
“I apologize. I have an early meeting tomorrow morning.”
Baek Dong-hyun smiled and politely declined.
“Please enjoy your time. I’ll take care of the bill before I go.”
“Don’t do that. I’m already sorry you’re leaving early, and now you want to pay too?”
A civil servant from the Ministry of Economy and Finance waved his hand dismissively.
“No, please have a good evening.”
Baek Dong-hyun quietly excused himself and stood up from his seat.
The story about the morning meeting was a lie.
He simply didn’t want to stay any longer.
He couldn’t even tell where the alcohol was going.
His mind was too cluttered; he wanted to drink soju comfortably, but the atmosphere there wasn’t conducive to that.
It was a gathering where he had to be attentive and accommodating.
I had become the Director of the National Intelligence Service, yet even there I still had to play such a role.
There was a time when I actively sought out such positions.
When I was hungry for promotion,
back when I was at the bottom.
That’s when I met them.
These people.
They introduced themselves as the “Cheongwha Society.”
They said their goal was to create a world of clarity and harmony.
I said I wanted to create such a world too.
So I joined.
I enjoyed going to their gatherings.
I could taste the finest delicacies.
I could visit high-end bars I could never dream of on a civil servant’s salary,
and I could meet many people.
From fellow civil servants to business leaders.
I could hear all sorts of information from those people.
From national policy directions to real estate and stock information.
Though it wasn’t much money, I invested and made quite a bit.
I naturally shared things I learned while working at the National Intelligence Service.
That’s what that place was.
We were helping each other.
We were guiding each other forward.
Promotions came quickly.
Sometimes there were decisions I didn’t understand, but I thought there were reasons for them.
That’s how decisions are.
There’s no such thing as a decision that satisfies everyone 100%.
Opinions differ depending on individual circumstances.
Even more so when the scale is as large as a nation.
This applies to any matter.
Even when offering tax refunds, there are people who complain.
So I learned there that any decision will inevitably face dissatisfaction.
To accomplish great things, one must tolerate a certain degree of opposition.
I learned the skill of not listening to others.
That’s how I grew within the Cheongwha Society.
But the times changed.
From print newspapers to YouTube.
Information no longer circulates within the Cheongwha Society.
In the past, if it was reported in the print newspapers, it immediately became an issue, but those days are gone.
No matter how much we emphasized it or dominated the front page, there was no response.
Along with the decline of print newspapers, the Cheongwha Society’s influence was weakening as well.
That’s why he’d been careful with his actions lately.
He’d hidden the fact that he was part of the Cheongwha Society.
He had no desire to sit around that place—where there was nothing left to gain—catering to those old geezers.
While smoking a cigarette in front of the car, a man in a suit approached.
“You called for a proxy driver?”
“Yes. This is the car.”
“You drive a nice car. I’m envious.”
The Proxy Driver complimented Baek Dong-hyun’s vehicle.
Baek Dong-hyun’s shoulders lifted with pride.
The Proxy Driver climbed into the driver’s seat, and just as Baek Dong-hyun was about to get into the back, a sharp blow struck the back of his head.
Baek Dong-hyun couldn’t even resist before collapsing into the back seat.
The car drove off.
.
.
.
When consciousness returned, the first thing I saw was suffocating gray concrete.
A single fluorescent light illuminated that gray expanse.
My hands and feet were bound firmly to a chair.
Tape covered my mouth.
The moment I tried to assess the situation, someone entered.
“You’re awake?”
An unfamiliar face.
But this man was far too composed, too familiar.
His gaze control was excellent.
His movements contained no wasted motion.
He was trained.
A professional.
I tensed instinctively.
Professionals were difficult to handle.
Especially when I was bound.
In this state, survival would be difficult.
I’d play along for now.
Survival came first.
“What do you want? Let’s negotiate—I’ll give what I can, and you can take what you need.”
“You’re composed.”
“Well, this is what I do for a living, so you must know who I am if you grabbed me, right?”
Baek Dong-hyun asked boldly.
“I do. Baek Dong-hyun, Overseas Information Bureau Director of the National Intelligence Service. Correct?”
“This isn’t a case of mistaken identity then. So what do you want?”
“What I want is… nothing, really.”
“What?”
Baek Dong-hyun was taken aback.
He’d gone through the trouble of kidnapping him in secret, and the man wanted nothing?
Kidnapping an ordinary citizen would be serious enough, but kidnapping the Director of the National Intelligence Service and wanting nothing in return?
But the man’s voice had changed.
It had grown sharper, more jagged.
“I don’t want anything from you, you bastard.”
“What? That doesn’t make sense. If you don’t want anything, why did you kidnap me?”
“Just because I’m in a shitty mood?”
“What the hell?”
He kidnaps people just because he’s in a bad mood?
This isn’t some third-world country.
In twenty-first century South Korea, something like this?
“Seeing bastards like you makes my mood even worse. You take a salary from South Korea but pledge your loyalty to Japan. That’s why I brought you here. I thought beating you might make me feel better.”
At those words, Baek Dong-hyun’s expression twisted with disgust, and he let out a bitter laugh instead.
“Ah… so you’re a patriot. You’re young, so you probably don’t understand. This isn’t something that gets resolved by what’s right and wrong. Sometimes it’s better to swallow your pride and endure. Acting on impulse ruins your life. Just like you’re doing now.”
“Thanks for the advice. There are people who give me advice about my life, and it seems I’ve lived well.”
“You’re young—stop joking around and let me go. I understand the desire to love your country, the passion of youth. I do. But this isn’t the way.”
“Then what’s the right way?”
“We need to resolve this through dialogue, slowly.”
“What if dialogue doesn’t work?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there. We haven’t even tried talking yet. Let’s take it step by step.”
“Fine.”
I brought over paper and a pen.
“Write it down.”
“Write what?”
“Cheongwha Society members.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? I’m going to wipe out every last one of those bastards.”
“Ha ha ha ha. You really think that’s possible? Do you even know what the Cheongwha Society is? And if the Cheongwha Society goes down, you think Japan will just sit back and do nothing?”
“So you’re admitting Japan is behind this?”
“Not behind it—neighboring countries help each other out and live well together.”
“Enough. Just write this down. If you won’t, we start right now.”
“Give it here.”
I slid the paper and pen across to the man.
“But my hands are tied—I can’t write.”
“I think you can manage if you try.”
Baek Dong-hyun fumbled with the pen, but it wasn’t working.
“It’s not working. I can’t write.”
“Then I’ll untie you.”
The moment I released my grip on his right hand, the hand holding the ballpoint pen flew toward his neck.
Fast and precise movements.
Indeed, the movements of a trained agent.
But I had anticipated this much.
With a ballpoint pen, anyone could be killed.
Of course, I thought he would attack once I gave him the pen.
And Baek Dong-hyun didn’t deviate from that expectation in the slightest.
Blocking an attack coming exactly as predicted was so tedious it made me yawn.
I grabbed Baek Dong-hyun’s right hand and snapped it straight.
The pen fell, and the sound of his wrist bone breaking echoed out.
“Aaahhhhh!!”
“What a shitty bastard with shitty habits.”
Baek Dong-hyun’s arm was broken and in pain, but his other arm was bound, so he could do nothing.
He could only scream.
“Aaahhhhh! My arm.”
“You said let’s talk. Talk. Is this your idea of talking? Fine. Let’s have a nice long conversation today.”
Baek Dong-hyun’s face drained of color with fear.
He understood what “conversation” meant in this context.
Baek Dong-hyun screamed out his question.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Didn’t you hear me? Bastards like you have just ruined my mood.”
“Please don’t do this.”
“Don’t you do this. So will you write it down? Or should we keep talking?
After a brief moment of hesitation, Baek Dong-hyun gripped the ballpoint pen with his left hand.
This time he didn’t spout nonsense about being released.
With his bound hand struggling, he began writing down names.
“Write down their workplace too so there’s no confusion. I’d hate for an innocent person to die by mistake.”
“······”
Baek Dong-hyun glared at me once.
Then he continued writing down the names of Cheongwha Society members.
With his left hand, awkwardly and miserably.
But survival came first.
That’s how he had lived his entire life.
By bowing his head to the strong, even if it looked pathetic.
In the empty space, only the scratching sound of the ballpoint pen echoed quietly.
Through the inventory, I had become a magnate of the black market.
180 – Business Consulting
E-book Publication
/ January 23, 2026
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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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