I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 201

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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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201 – Casting
201.
Kurokawa hurried to arrive at the office early in the morning.
Perhaps it was age, but his eyes opened early these days.
In the past, he would have remained buried under the blankets until the sun brightened the sky, but now he had somewhere to be.
He had to go to work.
Grueling, foul-smelling labor.
Sifting through garbage, navigating between waste—spending his days in that world.
Yet I found that work enjoyable.
It gave me a sense of purpose.
A cold beer with colleagues after clocking out.
That refreshing sensation as the foam slid down my throat was a kind of satisfaction I had never known during the years I wielded a blade.
It was almost absurd—working side by side with other Yakuza bosses I once faced off against, each sharpening our edges, each eyeing the other as if to kill.
Instead of the tension of wondering when a blade might pierce me,
getting covered in garbage together felt far more at ease.
My body grew weary, but my stress diminished considerably.
The work was filthy, yet my spirit grew cleaner.
.
.
The Waste Disposal Factory business grew rapidly.
Lowering the unit price brought orders flooding in.
The strategy of putting the Female Employee front and center seemed to be working.
The profits were better than expected.
Even after paying wages, money remained.
This month, I planned to make a tribute payment to Alex.
Paying tribute to one’s superior was simply the natural order of things.
The few times I broached the subject of tribute,
Alex refused.
“Elder, use that money to buy some chondroitin for your joints. Or get yourself some eel.”
“You have plenty of money? Then let’s have a company dinner. Give the men bonuses.”
“If money becomes tight, let me know. I may not be good at receiving, but I’m excellent at giving.”
But for Kurokawa, tribute was not a matter of money.
Tribute was proof that we remained connected.
Confirmation that we were bound together, superior and subordinate.
Arriving at the Office, Kurokawa began his day with a warm can of green tea purchased from the Convenience Store.
The bitter-sweet taste rolled across my tongue and down my throat.
It was the perfect flavor to begin the morning.
I placed a cigarette between my lips and lit it.
The smoke I drew in deeply reached my lungs before emerging again as vapor.
This routine had remained unchanged from my Yakuza days until now.
The door opened and a Police Officer entered.
I flinched for a moment, but it was fine.
I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I hadn’t thrown a single cigarette butt on the street.
So there was nothing to worry about.
Composed, Kurokawa was about to ask the Police Officer what brought him here.
But it was the Police Officer who spoke first.
“I’m arresting you as a suspect in the Tokyo Port explosion. You have the right to retain a lawyer, and you have the right to refuse to make statements that could be used against you. If you believe this arrest is unlawful···.”
For a moment, I was dazed.
Arrested.
But I quickly regained my composure.
I was startled for a moment when the Police Officer produced handcuffs, but I didn’t resist.
I thought to myself that it had finally come.
“Wait a moment, won’t you? Let me finish this cigarette first. What’s the rush?”
“What cigarette?”
The Police Officer snatched the cigarette from Kurokawa’s mouth, threw it to the ground, and crushed it under his heel.
He roughly subdued Kurokawa and fastened the handcuffs.
The unfinished green tea can fell to the floor, spilling its contents.
.
.
.
It was Kurokawa who had driven Alex to Tokyo Port.
The moment I witnessed the explosion at Tokyo Port,
the first face that came to mind was Alex’s.
Alex’s words about committing terrorism.
The explosion at Tokyo Port.
There was no need to question further.
It was Alex.
Empty-handed,
in that brief span of time,
I didn’t know what method he had used,
but it was certain that Alex was involved in the Tokyo Port explosion.
That was why.
The reason I didn’t resist strongly when arrested.
If this was punishment for that, I could accept it willingly.
For a yakuza to help his boss was only natural.
Going to prison in the boss’s stead was infinite glory.
Fortunately, no one else knew about this.
I had contacted Alex privately,
and told no one else.
When Kurokawa entered Tokyo Port, he drove the car alone.
So all Kurokawa had to do was hold firm.
He could take it all on himself.
At worst, it meant prison.
A space as comfortable as breathing.
Going to prison alone was tedious, certainly,
but taking the fall for the Boss didn’t seem entirely bad.
Kurokawa in handcuffs, dragged away in a police car.
Then something strange unfolded.
The police weren’t just arresting Kurokawa—
they were arresting the entire factory staff.
They made no distinctions.
They were indiscriminately rounding everyone up.
Technicians, office workers, even the newest recruit who’d just arrived.
These men had done nothing wrong.
They were merely dedicated yakuza.
I wanted to cry out, “These men are innocent. Take only me.”
But the atmosphere suggested otherwise.
The police’s behavior was strange.
Chaotic.
As if they were being chased by something, or trying to cover something up,
hurried and anxious.
Now that I thought about it, something was off when they arrested Kurokawa too.
Normally they would have brandished evidence and acted arrogantly.
Instead, they arrested him without rhyme or reason.
They cuffed him first.
It was strange.
No—it was suspicious.
The instincts of a yakuza who had survived this long stirred to life.
‘What if these fools know nothing and are just grabbing people at random?’
They needed a culprit, didn’t they?
And if they’d decided to pin it on the yakuza?
Everything fit perfectly.
An explosion. No evidence.
Public panic. Yakuza.
It made sense.
They were fabricating a culprit right now.
Kurokawa knew this method well.
He too had once cast actors to play the role of criminals.
As the situation became clear, my thoughts shifted.
I could smile and walk into prison in the Boss’s stead.
But I had no intention of being dragged along by these bastards’ script.
That isn’t the honor of the Yakuza.
It’s just being used like a fool.
So there’s only one answer.
Play dumb.
Claim ignorance of everything.
I had originally planned to confess, but now I’d hold my ground.
They’ve probably planted evidence everywhere, but I’ll deny it all regardless.
We only transported waste to Tokyo Port.
I learned about the explosion from the news.
I’d just repeat that.
My resolve hardened.
I couldn’t smile on my face, but my heart was laughing.
I had no intention of simply accepting this.
.
.
.
At the moment Kurokawa was being loaded into the police car.
Breaking news was being announced on television.
“The series of explosions that have recently occurred at major ports including Tokyo Port, Yokohama, and Nagoya have been confirmed to be the work of Yakuza.”
The Japanese Port Explosion Investigation Headquarters announced through an official briefing today that major organizations including Kurokawa Gumi, Amagi Alliance, and Shiranui Faction had formed an alliance to plan large-scale smuggling, and that some explosives among the smuggled goods malfunctioned within the port, causing the explosion.
The investigation headquarters revealed that they have secured evidence of fund flows between the organizations, shell company transaction records, and circumstances of explosives storage.
The government has designated this incident as a serious crime against national infrastructure and declared an all-out war on organized crime.
The cabinet will hold an emergency countermeasures meeting and announce comprehensive measures including enhanced port security, expanded smuggling crackdowns, and expanded application of special organized crime laws.
The Prime Minister plans to make a national address this afternoon, stating that “Japan’s safety will never be shaken.”
The Investigation Chief turned off the screen with the remote.
The conference room fell silent.
Only three people sat in the conference room.
The Investigation Chief.
The Prosecutor.
The Cabinet Intelligence Official.
The people who had decided the Yakuza were the culprits.
“The evidence?”
The Investigation Chief asked.
“We’ve documented materials from the Waste Disposal Factory that connect to explosive components. We’ve already prepared the seizure report.”
“The actual items?”
“They’re being stored in the evidence warehouse. We’ve documented the discovery circumstances as well.”
The Chief nodded.
“The fund flows?”
“I set up a shell company. I’ve arranged it so the smuggling proceeds flowed through that account to the organization. The transaction records match up perfectly.”
“What about the alibi?”
“We can use the movement records near the port on the day of the explosion. There’s even a record of a waste disposal vehicle visiting Tokyo Port on the day of the incident. It’s not direct evidence, but it can be accepted as circumstantial.”
“You’re certain?”
“This case has been classified as a national security matter. The courts won’t dare question it. We want to wrap this up quickly.”
A brief silence fell.
The Investigation Chief spoke again, his voice low and guarded.
“Any chance of leaks from inside?”
“None whatsoever. We’ve compartmentalized the investigative personnel. Only the three of us here know the full picture.”
The Investigation Chief smiled with satisfaction.
The investigation headquarters, which had floundered aimlessly for nearly a month, had transformed.
Once the direction was set, everything proceeded swiftly and meticulously.
It wasn’t a matter of lacking competence.
They simply hadn’t known which way to go.
Construct the circumstances,
layer the evidence upon them,
and crown it all with narrative and public opinion.
“Any other issues?”
“The media has already begun publishing articles naming the Yakuza as the perpetrators. The trial will be over before anyone can mount a rebuttal.”
“The defense team has been arranged as well. They’re in sync with us.”
After reviewing the progress, the Investigation Chief leaned back slowly in his chair.
Satisfactory.
“You’ve done well.”
“You’re the one who’s worked hard, sir.”
“Once the case is closed, let’s have a drink.”
“Of course.”
The Investigation Chief added in a low voice.
“And this goes to the grave with us. Understood?”
Both men nodded simultaneously.
“Naturally.”
By the agreement of three men,
Kurokawa and the Yakuza had already become the culprits.
******
“Young Boss. Have you seen the news?”
Scott arrived early in the morning.
When I was at Unity Village, he rarely came unless I summoned him.
“The news?”
Fresh from the shower, I watched Scott while holding a coffee in one hand.
“Kurokawa’s been arrested, sir?”
“What? Kurokawa? Why? Did they catch him dumping the waste? Heh heh, I knew he’d get caught eventually. I told that old fool a dozen times that he’d get caught if he kept dumping like that so recklessly···”
“No.”
“No?”
Scott’s expression grew grave.
“They’re saying he’s the culprit behind the Tokyo Port explosion.”
“What?”
I was taken aback by Scott’s words.
The culprit behind the Tokyo Port explosion?
That was me.
I designed it. I executed it.
Why are they taking Kurokawa?
I orchestrated the explosion.
Yet Kurokawa is the one being arrested.
I deliberately adjusted the detonation timing to sever all connections to Kurokawa.
Why did Kurokawa suddenly get taken in?
It made no sense.
“Not just Kurokawa. The entire Yakuza has been swept up.”
“All of the Yakuza?”
Scott handed me the report he’d prepared.
It was meticulously organized—government statements, investigation briefings, public opinion summaries.
At first I was confused,
but after reading it twice, the picture became clear.
Unable to identify the real culprit, they fabricated one.
And they pinned it on the most convenient, most fitting name.
The Yakuza.
Smuggling, explosions, organized crime.
It fit perfectly.
If the Yakuza were the culprits, no one would question it.
Moreover, from the government’s perspective, they could eliminate a thorn in their side—the Yakuza—in one stroke.
I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair to collect my thoughts.
“Brilliant.”
They’d used their heads well.
No one would save a weakened, disconnected Yakuza.
It could become a political victory.
Public opinion had completely shifted.
The witch hunt had already begun.
Probably even their lawyers were part of the setup.
This was no accident.
It was calculated and executed with precision.
They’d likely fabricated all the evidence to match.
Could Kurokawa withstand this?
Even Kurokawa won’t have it easy.
It’s an explosion at Japanese ports.
Not just one location—three.
The pressure will be beyond imagination.
Kurokawa will probably mention my name, won’t he?
He’ll have no choice but to.
I understand.
I naturally expect that to happen.
I’m not even resentful about it.
I’m the one who created this game, after all.
It’s only natural that I face the consequences.
Rather, I’d prefer he mention my name quickly so Kurokawa can be at ease.
I even considered turning myself in for Kurokawa’s sake.
I hate seeing the old man suffer because of me.
But I can live well enough even behind bars.
I have no worries about that.
Yet no matter how much I think about it, I’m not certain that turning myself in is the best choice.
There must be another way.
I didn’t want to simply walk into the trap they’d laid.
Even if I’m caught, I wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine.
That thought suddenly struck me.
What if.
They announced the Yakuza as the culprits,
they claimed to have caught all the Yakuza,
but explosions continued to occur?
How would the world react?
What would the government say?
Where would public opinion turn?
What about the investigation team?
Just thinking about it made me laugh.
It would be far too entertaining.
If I’m going to be caught anyway, I should at least do this much.
That’s how the math works out.
I slowly opened my eyes.
I’d made my decision.
Turning myself in was off the table.
Getting caught can wait until the very end.
“I’m sorry, old man, but you’ll have to endure some hardship in there. I’ll take care of your retirement.”
I picked up my phone.
“Dennis. We need to prepare some materials.”
“I don’t need guns. Just bombs. Prepare as many bombs as possible.”
“A massive amount. Enough to set Japan ablaze.”
An affirmative response came through the phone.
Imagining the panic those fools would experience at the explosions, I couldn’t help but laugh.
The thought of their carefully laid plans crumbling to dust was exhilaratingly entertaining.
Indeed, the best kind of fight is one where everything descends into chaos.
Through my inventory, I had become a major player in the black market.
201 – Casting
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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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