I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 207

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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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207 – The Elected One
207.
After a long dinner with the Yakuza, we didn’t arrive in Manila until late into the night.
I would have preferred to go to Bohol or Zamboanga,
but I had to come to Manila where Patrick was.
My objective wasn’t the Philippines—it was Patrick.
Manila on the eve of the election was eerily quiet.
The city that would normally be choked with traffic and honking horns held its breath as if a typhoon had swept through.
Only the colorful election posters scattered throughout the streets seemed to testify to the fierce campaign of the past few months.
The festive election campaign had come to an end.
Now was the time for voters to deliberate on whom they would choose.
That’s why campaigning was prohibited two days before the vote.
A liquor ban was also imposed.
The purpose was to prevent people from making wrong choices while intoxicated.
I went straight to Patrick from the airport.
“Thank you so much for coming, Young Boss.”
“Of course I came. Our Patrick is running for President.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Patrick spoke as if making a vow to himself.
I accepted his vow lightly.
I hated things becoming heavy.
I was afraid that vow would transform into shackles that bound him.
“Patrick, no matter what you do, you’ll do well. Don’t worry. Anyway, how are things looking?”
I changed the subject.
“With your help, it looks like I’ll win smoothly. Especially since you’ve provided so much campaign funding, I’ve been able to run the election without difficulty.”
I had opened my vault to Patrick.
I told him to spend as much as he needed for the election.
To spend freely.
But Patrick hadn’t spent much.
My money was like the Pacific Ocean, and it seemed he hadn’t even scooped up a single teaspoon.
“Spend some money and run the election comfortably and at ease.”
“No, sir. I’ve been able to manage comfortably because many people are helping. Especially La Camara has helped a lot.”
Of course, La Camara.
To maintain my current position, I had no choice but to make Patrick President.
“They should help. They need to eat and live too.”
“Haha.”
Patrick laughed in good spirits.
“Once you become President, squeeze them harder. Those guys still have plenty of room. Right now it seems like they’re helping, right? Don’t let it stay that way. You need to press down harder. Leave them just enough to breathe. Those bastards are full-bellied, so if you don’t tighten the screws, they’ll get ideas soon. Don’t get stabbed in the back later.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Please vote for me.”
“I’ll definitely do it. I’m voting five times.”
“Five times?”
“I have five Philippine IDs. I’m using all of them.”
“Haha. Yes, thank you so much. And…”
“And? What?”
“Would you be willing to stay by my side tomorrow?”
“Why? You’ll be busy anyway.”
“Election day won’t be busy. All I’ll do is wait all day. I want to be with you.”
“You want to absorb some of my luck too?”
“That’s part of it… but aren’t you my spiritual pillar? And you’re the one who dragged me into politics in the first place.”
A sudden pang of conscience struck me.
‘Did I really think it would come to this?’
I hadn’t pulled Patrick into politics with any grand ambition.
I’d simply made him mayor to move through Zamboanga more freely,
to streamline administrative procedures.
That was truly all there was to it.
But what we hadn’t anticipated
was that Patrick possessed a natural gift for politics.
That personality of his, which loved building networks, aligned perfectly with the political arena.
He didn’t stop there—he founded a political party called Akbayan Nang Katarunggan and grew its power.
Akbayan Nang Katarunggan became the Philippines’ largest political party.
And that natural talent now had its sights set on the presidency.
It was almost certain, yet Patrick still seemed tense.
“Alright, let’s stay together from now on.”
“Thank you.”
We moved to the waiting room that had been prepared in advance.
A large table, sofas, and a big-screen TV were installed,
and in one corner, drinks and light snacks were laid out.
As I settled onto the sofa, Sandro walked in.
It had been a long time since I’d seen Sandro.
I was genuinely delighted.
We embraced each other lightly.
Sandro whispered in my ear.
“I absolutely hate hugging men.”
“Heh heh.”
Yet even as he said this, Sandro didn’t withdraw his hand from my back.
It was his own way of showing welcome.
A moment later.
Dennis, Simon, Edward, Jason, Ana, Allen, and Magiting arrived.
Everyone gathered together.
To support Patrick.
A candidate barred from campaigning had nothing to do.
For once, we clinked our glasses.
Of course, with beverages.
Drinking alcohol during the prohibition period was as routine as breathing for us,
but today I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to tarnish Patrick—who would become President tomorrow—with even the slightest blemish.
Abstaining for one day wouldn’t kill us.
The alcohol we’d drink after Patrick’s victory would taste far sweeter.
.
.
.
Before dawn broke, long lines stretched before the polling stations.
I too stood in line and cast my vote.
Voting proceeded without major incident,
and as the sun set, the counting began—the moment that would seal our fate.
From the early returns, the gap widened dramatically.
Patrick pulled far ahead of his competitors, running away with it,
and as time passed, the margin only grew.
And not long after, at an early hour.
Victory confirmed.
“Yaaaaaaaa!”
Patrick’s victory was officially confirmed.
We screamed.
We cheered and applauded.
We embraced one another.
Breaking news.
Candidate Patrick Monteverde confirmed as the 18th President of the Philippines with 62.8% of the vote
President-elect Patrick, during his tenure as Mayor of Zamboanga, rose to national heroism through flexible leadership that eradicated Zamboanga’s chronic security problems. In particular, to resolve the Philippines’ chronic power shortage, he spearheaded the construction of massive solar farms and nuclear power plants, dramatically lowering electricity rates and earning the absolute support of the common people.
Experts evaluate that President-elect Patrick will break away from outdated dynastic politics and usher in a new political paradigm of ‘pragmatism and justice’.
With record-breaking approval ratings securing his election, and reelection possible, all eyes are on how President-elect Patrick will transform Philippine politics.
Patrick on the screen waved to his supporters with an elated expression.
He had become far more than merely the head of a nation.
Many people had helped Patrick.
He had many allies.
Myself included,
Sandro, the king of the Philippine Gangsters
Simon, the Rebel Forces Captain
Magiting, the power company CEO.
Jason smuggling goods,
Edward manufacturing drugs.
Ana laundering money.
They would all support Patrick in every conceivable way.
And I held the established power of La Camara in the palm of my hand.
I also possessed the Rebel Forces—a colossal military force.
Since I had abundant wealth, I need not be swayed by money.
With my involvement, I could easily broker negotiations between South Korea and China.
I could even leverage the Triad Society and the Yakuza.
With all this, wouldn’t becoming President be effortless?
I was certain of it.
Patrick would become the greatest President in Philippine history.
I would make it so.
“Congratulations.”
I offered my sincere felicitations to Patrick.
“Thank you.”
Patrick accepted the champagne I poured, responding graciously.
Then he leaned close and whispered to me.
“I will make the Philippines your greatest fortress.”
******
The television was consumed entirely by Patrick’s story.
Every channel seemed to have made a pact, flooding the airwaves with his biography.
How he had grown,
how he had dealt with the Rebel Forces during his tenure as Mayor,
and the solitary struggle he had waged against the entrenched politics of old families—
the broadcasts never ceased, running day and night.
These were stories already exhausted countless times during the campaign,
yet the moment the title “President” was affixed, everything transformed.
Candidate Patrick and President Patrick were the same person, yet carried entirely different weight.
While everyone fixated on Patrick’s achievements,
the truly bustling place lay elsewhere.
It was Candy Tour.
As rumors spread that Patrick had personally discovered and planned it,
Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake instantly became the Philippines’ premier tourist destinations.
They were already renowned in South Korea as must-visit travel spots.
Many had visited two or three times.
But after the election,
as Filipinos and Asians alike flocked there,
Candy Tour was crying out in delighted overwhelm.
Tours for an entire year were already fully booked.
The Candy Tour manager suggested increasing the number of tour participants.
I rejected it outright.
Revenue was not the priority.
Those who visited had to experience something they would never forget for the rest of their lives.
It needed to be a place that created memories—glimpsed once but carried until death.
Not a place to glance at and leave,
but a place to linger, savor the scenery, and find space for contemplation.
A place that lingered in memory the more one recalled it.
A place one would surely want to revisit someday.
The Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake were such places.
That was also why merchandise featuring them sold so well.
Because people wanted to remember.
Meanwhile, Patrick, now the president-elect, immediately activated the transition committee.
Reports from each ministry followed in succession.
Briefings across all sectors—economics, security, energy, defense—proceeded relentlessly day and night.
Patrick was no longer the secretary reporting schedules at my side.
He was the leader guiding the nation of the Philippines.
My role as a totem had been fulfilled sufficiently.
Now, what I needed to do was return to my own place.
Upon arriving at Unity Town, a pleasant breeze enveloped me.
Unity Town was still being maintained beautifully.
The entire town was well-organized,
and children’s laughter and energy overflowed everywhere.
And there was Kwon Ju-ah, waving from a distance.
.
.
.
“It’s been a while.”
Kwon Ju-ah greeted me.
Kwon Ju-ah’s face looked wonderful.
Even in the Philippines with its intense ultraviolet rays, she maintained her porcelain skin as a given,
and above all, her expression had brightened.
The anxiety and stress from leaving South Korea had faded, replaced by a newfound ease.
“It really has been a while. Have you been well?”
“Of course. I like it here.”
Kwon Ju-ah smiled.
That smile suited her perfectly.
“Oh, and I watched the presidential election from here. It was so strange seeing someone I knew become president.”
“Haha, I found it strange too.”
“When President Patrick was elected, you only had eyes for him?”
“Huh? Was that so?”
Was it?
I wasn’t thinking clearly in that moment.
I was focused on the vote count myself.
“Yeah. Your eyes were practically dripping with honey.”
I felt slightly embarrassed at Kwon Ju-ah’s words.
I hastily changed the subject.
“Patrick should do well now. By the way, aren’t you going back to South Korea?”
Kwon Ju-ah’s expression shifted.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go,
but the memory of that day still seemed to grip at my ankles.
Those eyes as he lunged at me like a beast, forcing me to sign.
That voice demanding I sign was still far too vivid.
Yet I couldn’t stay in Unity Town forever either.
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“You should be fine going back now. Your father has changed a lot. He’s just too busy with K-ORIGIN these days. And it seems like he wants to apologize to you.”
“I’ll give it some thought.”
Kwon Ju-ah answered carefully.
“Okay. Let me know once you decide. What are you doing this weekend?”
I asked to lighten the mood.
“I don’t have any plans.”
“Then should we take a trip? You haven’t traveled around the Philippines yet, have you?”
I spontaneously thought of a trip.
It seemed like I could manage a quick getaway over the weekend.
“That’s true. I’ve only been here in Unity Town.”
“Then let’s go on a trip.”
“Where to?”
“I’m not sure yet. We can figure it out starting now. Is there anywhere you want to go?”
“No. Just decide for me, and I’ll follow.”
“Okay. I’ll plan the itinerary. You just get ready.”
“Got it.”
Kwon Ju-ah answered with a bright smile.
Her face seemed to flush slightly.
.
.
.
I stepped outside and gave Scott instructions.
Even as I was instructing Scott, I kept doubting whether this was right.
I felt uneasy.
But I couldn’t think of anyone else.
I can’t ask Shin Jung-gi about this.
“I’m thinking of taking Kwon Ju-ah on a trip this weekend. Are you ready?”
“Of course. Don’t worry.”
Scott answered with a smirk.
That smile only made me more anxious.
Scott quietly sent a radio transmission.
“Young Boss. Code Pink is going on a trip. Let’s prepare.”
Allen barely suppressed his laughter as he responded.
“Roger. I’ll set it up to the highest standard.”
Scott and Allen’s travel preparations had begun.
.
.
.
“This is Emerald Canyon.”
Deep emerald-colored water flowed through the gorge.
The water’s hue shifted with each touch of sunlight.
“Wow~ I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Kwon Ju-ah gasped like a child in wonder.
“This is Lumina Lake. When night falls, the lake glows. It feels like a gateway to a fantasy world.”
Kwon Ju-ah fell silent for a long time.
Mesmerized by the blue light emanating from the plankton inhabiting the lake, she gazed at the spectacle in rapt fascination.
We pitched a tent and spent the night at Lumina Lake.
And the next day.
We arrived by private jet at a small island west of Zamboanga.
A place that had been nearly inaccessible in the past due to rebel forces, let alone developed.
But now we had purchased it entirely and were developing it into a new tourist destination.
“This is an island that Candy Tour is newly developing.”
Blindingly white sand and azure waters stretching to the horizon.
It was truly a scene from a painting.
“It’s so beautiful. Does such a place really exist in this world?”
Kwon Ju-ah stood motionless, her voice filled with wonder.
It hadn’t been officially opened to the public yet.
But the natural scenery was unparalleled.
It was a place where the word “paradise” fit perfectly.
We spent blissful moments together on the island, undisturbed by anyone.
Walking across the sand,
wading into the sea,
eating the food we had prepared.
“In-bae. I want to go back to South Korea.”
“If it’s difficult, we can stay a bit longer before heading back.”
“No, actually, I think it’s better to go now. I don’t think we can solve this problem by just avoiding it any longer.”
“Alright. Do whatever feels right. Whatever you decide, I’ll help.”
“Thank you.”
We shared many more words after that.
It was a time when we became truthful with each other.
.
.
.
At that same moment, Scott and Allen were engaged in a nerve-wracking security operation.
The two of them were waging a blood-chilling battle over airspace.
“No. I said don’t send any aircraft this way—divert everything within a 50km radius!!!”
Scott wouldn’t tolerate even a single plane passing over the island.
Scott grabbed the radio with a rough motion.
“Allen. You’ve completed the underwater search, right?”
“Finished cleanly. The dive team made two full passes.”
“Including beneath the reefs and the caves?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. We’ve verified everything thoroughly.”
“What about perimeter reconnaissance?”
“Reconnaissance drones are circulating. High-speed patrol boats are on standby. Don’t worry.”
It was merely a date,
but for them, it was a national-level security operation.
Scott checked the monitors again.
There could be no gaps whatsoever.

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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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