I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 198

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

198 – Premium
198.
Crash.
Tokyo.
A sound utterly incongruous with the Seiwakai headquarters, where even breathing was measured and careful, shattered the silence.
The place had always been quiet,
but now that quietude lay in complete ruins.
It was the first time I had ever seen Minase, the head of Seiwakai, consumed by such fury.
He was a man who maintained an unwavering poker face under any circumstance.
Yet now his expression resembled that of a malevolent demon rather than a human being.
Without a word, he seized a teacup
and hurled it toward Kuroda, who knelt before him.
Kuroda neither dodged nor was struck.
The teacup sailed past him.
But the moment it struck the wall,
sharp fragments exploded outward with a piercing crack.
A teacup from the Edo period.
One that I treasured particularly,
brought out only when distinguished guests arrived.
Yet now such considerations were entirely beyond my perception.
The damage from the Tokyo Port explosion had already reached irreparable levels.
Beyond the direct losses,
cascading logistics paralysis and financial shockwaves rippled outward.
I couldn’t even begin to calculate the total damage.
Tokyo Port claimed it was merely a film prop that detonated,
and vowed to conduct a comprehensive inspection of all containers for port transparency.
But as logistics ground to a halt and the situation escalated,
the “comprehensive inspection” policy vanished, and Tokyo Port attempted to resume customs clearance.
Then an explosion struck Nagoya Port.
Days earlier, a similar incident had occurred at Yokoya Port, I’m told.
Explosions erupted at Japan’s major ports.
This was no longer merely a Tokyo Port problem.
Japan’s entire port infrastructure trembled simultaneously.
Japan, which boasted world-class security and customs procedures,
had always prided itself on rigorous management systems.
Yet explosives could be smuggled into port facilities?
They could detonate at any moment?
If only Tokyo Port were affected, I could dismiss it as an accident.
But not now.
Japan’s first, second, and third largest ports had all ground to a halt simultaneously.
Each of them boasted world-class cargo throughput and systems.
This problem had become an issue for all of Japan.
As the ports ground to a halt, factories sequentially ceased operations.
When the distribution network wavered, the financial markets responded instantly.
The yen fluctuated wildly, and insurance companies burned through the night calculating risks they could not bear.
Ironically, the logistics shutdown meant to demonstrate trust had instead proven catastrophically damaging.
The very fact that the ports they believed to be flawless had stopped was itself a signal that something was gravely wrong.
The government immediately established a special joint investigation headquarters and launched an inquiry.
Police, Public Security Bureau, Prosecution, Japan Coast Guard, Japan Self-Defense Forces intelligence divisions, and the Cabinet Intelligence Bureau—all were mobilized.
Yet there were no results whatsoever.
Not only could they not identify a suspect,
they could not find even the smallest clue.
Tokyo Port alone
saw tens of thousands of people passing through daily,
and hundreds of thousands of containers in motion.
Containers were not things that could be moved by human hands.
Naturally, they required the power of machinery.
Container entry and exit records, movement patterns, schedules—
even crane usage logs were meticulously examined, yet nothing anomalous appeared anywhere.
The system was functioning perfectly normally.
This was the greater problem.
If there is a problem, one finds it and fixes it.
There is damage now, certainly,
but greater damage can be prevented.
Future damage can be averted.
But there is no problem at all.
The system has no problems, yet accidents occur.
There is nothing to fix, yet accidents continue.
This is truly a grave problem.
Either there was a massive problem they could not locate,
or Japan was exposed to a threat of an entirely different dimension.
It meant they could not respond to the problem at all.
There was no way to calculate how much the damage would multiply.
In such circumstances, it was inevitable that Minase’s anger would be directed at Kuroda.
Not only had I failed to handle the matter properly,
but I had made poor judgments.
By hastily attempting to eliminate Ana, I had provoked South Korea.
No one in this room spoke of it, but everyone knew.
Without words,
without evidence,
This wasn’t an accident.
And behind it all, South Korea had to be involved.
I didn’t know how South Korea had orchestrated the explosion,
but this incident was undoubtedly connected to South Korea.
The problem was that South Korea’s intentions remained obscured.
Was this a warning, or merely the beginning?
Kuroda still hadn’t lifted his head,
his gaze fixed only on the floor.
Fragments of the teacup were still scattered at his feet,
but far sharper than those shards
was the consequence of the choice I had made.
What Japan now faced wasn’t merely a port explosion,
but an uncontrollable architect whose very identity remained unknown.
*******
Zurich,
Nordhafen Reinsurance.
An emergency meeting was underway regarding the Japanese port explosion.
“You’ve all received the report on the Japanese port incident? I believe we must completely reassess our existing risk evaluations and reinsurance terms in light of this event.”
“I agree. I think all existing discount tiers should be eliminated entirely.”
“Eliminate discount tiers? That’s merely a basic measure outlined in our terms. We need a far more forceful response.”
“What sort of forceful response do you mean?”
“We need to apply a surcharge. Minimum of 30% or higher.”
A brief silence fell over the conference room.
The word “surcharge” carried considerable weight.
Not some Latin American or Southeast Asian nation—but Japan, subjected to a surcharge.
Japanese ports had long served as the benchmark for safety.
This was the moment Japan’s painstakingly built reputation officially crumbled.
“No, I understand if it were just Tokyo. A 30% surcharge would be appropriate. But Tokyo, Nagoya, Yokohama—all follow the same pattern. This is too much to dismiss as mere accident. There’s clearly some systemic deficiency.”
I thought he would defend Japan, but instead he struck harder.
He had nailed it down—not an accident, but a systemic failure.
“Are you suggesting a systemic risk?”
“Precisely. And what’s even more troubling is Japan’s conduct.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Japan has rejected every investigator we offered to dispatch. They keep repeating the same position—they’ll conduct their own investigation and report back.”
“They expect us to simply trust their data?”
“That’s exactly the problem. If this were truly an accident, there’d be no reason to conceal it to this extent. Accidents can happen anytime, can’t they? Our role is to prevent them beforehand and minimize their occurrence. Yet they’re blocking our investigation. It’s difficult to accept.”
“It makes no sense.”
One executive nodded in agreement.
“Japan appears to be hiding something from us. That’s why we can’t trust them. They claimed the debris from the accident site was filming equipment, but I find that claim unbelievable. That’s why we cannot trust Japan’s report.”
“Then are you suggesting 30% or higher?”
“At minimum, seventy percent. And I’d prefer to exclude port and logistics coverage from the policy.”
The conference room fell silent once more.
“That’s… isn’t that excessive? If we’re not careful, all of Japan could withdraw.”
“That’s possible. But I’m here to protect Nordhafen Reinsurance, not Japan.”
With those words, the meeting concluded.
The CEO seated at the head of the conference table seized the microphone.
“I’m rendering a decision.”
“Notify Japan: reinsurance premiums increased by seventy percent.”
“Port and logistics coverage completely excluded.”
“Effective immediately, Japan is removed from our ‘safe country’ classification.”
“All benefits previously applied to their policy are revoked.”
“Tell them to start the application process from scratch.”
The meeting ended there.
Nordhafen Reinsurance’s judgment was unambiguous.
South Korea remained on hold,
but Japan was excluded.
The decision was quiet, yet it carried a fatal message.
Other European reinsurers began moving in accordance with Nordhafen Reinsurance’s decision.
*******
Knock, knock, knock.
Room service entered with the sound.
The dishes arrived on a trolley were arranged neatly on the table.
Once the table was set,
I retrieved a bottle of soju from my inventory.
‘A night like this calls for soju.’
Crack.
The sound of the cap coming off was unusually crisp.
I turned on the television, and a news flash was already airing.
The timing was perfect.
“Breaking news. An explosion has occurred at Yokohama Port.”
“With logistics disrupted due to recent consecutive port explosions…”
I drank a glass of soju and picked up a strand of ramen with my chopsticks.
Slurp.
…It’s salty.
The screen showed only a few blurred photographs.
Smoke, fire trucks, and cordons were all that appeared.
Everything else was heavily pixelated.
They must have learned from the Tokyo Port explosion last time.
Back then, they broadcast it live without hesitation in the ratings competition.
But the backlash was severe.
The explosion itself was shocking, but
the objects that burst from the container sparked endless speculation among the onlookers.
They were perfect material for fabricating stories.
Rumors multiplied ceaselessly.
Once the government seized control of the scene,
those rumors had already solidified into truth.
Perhaps because of that,
live broadcasts had vanished since the previous Nagoya explosion incident.
The scene was replaced with a handful of photographs.
All of them heavily blurred.
What a shame.
I had agonized so much over orchestrating this beautifully.
This wasn’t just some haphazard detonation.
It had to be visible to others, make sense, capture people’s attention—
a kind of “masterpiece” constructed through layers of deliberation.
I couldn’t manage it alone, so I even brought Shin Jung-gi into it.
That madman suggested adding fireworks, but I rejected that notion.
After all that consideration, I managed to create something reasonably elegant.
The container at the very bottom was designed for the explosion itself.
I packed it full of explosives.
Grenades, mines, and other weapons went in alongside them.
This was a mechanism to delay cleanup efforts.
While the explosion was still occurring,
the presence of weapons nearby would naturally force authorities to prioritize those first, delaying everything else.
The second-tier container held solid weapons like firearms,
the third held counterfeit luxury goods.
And in the topmost container, I placed lighter items including counterfeit currency.
I even partially damaged the containers beforehand.
So they would shatter properly when the explosion occurred.
So the contents would scatter effectively.
After pouring all this care into it,
considering the money I’d invested,
one blur filter rendered it all meaningless.
That doesn’t mean my effort was wasted, though.
I picked up my phone and checked social media.
The government’s control didn’t seem to reach here.
Unfiltered, unblurred original photographs were circulating everywhere.
People at the scene had taken pictures and uploaded them.
The government appeared to be managing things,
but controlling foreign corporations seemed beyond their reach.
At most, they’ll just ask for cooperation.
“Yeah. This is enough.”
I drained another glass of soju.
It didn’t need to be perfect—it was sufficient.
Everyone who needed to see it has already seen it.
I’m not trying to inflict massive damage on Japan.
Just as Japan tried to manipulate and shake South Korea.
I’m simply shaking Japan in return.
Isn’t it only right to answer a harbor attack with a harbor response?
I’ve simply returned exactly what was given to me.
Of course, with a little interest added.
I’ve gained something from this incident as well.
Thanks to it, I can now store containers in my inventory.
That was a significant level-up.
It’s a shame about the blur processing,
but I gained far more than I lost.
The ability to store containers in my inventory feels like an even greater gain.
Suddenly, I grew curious.
When will they come to arrest me, anyway?
I checked my phone while finishing another glass.
I’ve already prepared an alibi in case I’m caught.
My movements, records, witnesses—everything.
I’ve even planned the scene of being taken in,
explaining as if nothing happened,
and walking out confidently. Yet it’s been eerily quiet.
Surely they haven’t completely lost the trail?
Japan is truly difficult.
No matter how carefully I plan, nothing works out properly.
The efficiency is abysmal compared to the effort invested.
I poured another glass of soju.
The news on the television continued.
The anchors’ expressions too.
Every so-called expert wore the same grim face.
Japan’s logistics have come to a standstill.
No one knows where the next accident will occur.
Calls for a comprehensive review of the system were mounting.
I savored the evening meal, using such words as appetizers.
It was sweet.
No one would ever know,
but it was reward enough for myself.
Buzz buzz buzz.
My phone rang.
It was Team Leader Hwang On-yu.
– Where are you? What are you doing?
“Having a glass of soju.”
– Lucky bastard. Soju in broad daylight.
“If you’re jealous, go ahead and have some yourself.”
– Never mind that. Where are you?
“Japan.”
– What are you doing there?
“Sightseeing?”
– I’m genuinely envious.
“Why did you call?”
– When you’re done sightseeing, can you come back?
“Why? Is something wrong?”
– The President wants to see you.
Through inventory, I became a mogul of the black market.
198-Premium
E-book Publication
/ February 13, 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 copyrighted 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
—————