I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 230

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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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230 – Hostage Rescue
230.
Seoul Airport.
The hostages who had been kidnapped in the Philippines were released.
From the beginning, this incident was never a simple abduction.
It was merely a pretext for weapons trafficking.
They simply needed an excuse to rescue their own citizens.
But the objective had already been achieved.
The necessary weapons had arrived in the Philippines,
and the contracts were finalized.
Everything needed had been obtained.
There was no reason to keep them any longer.
It had ended cleanly.
But the problem emerged from an entirely different quarter.
“We should do some grooming.”
A National Intelligence Service official spoke.
“Right now, journalists and media outlets have all gathered outside, and in your current state… you look far too well.”
A brief silence.
The hostages and their families exchanged glances with one another.
Sun-bronzed, golden-brown skin.
Faces that appeared serene from adequate rest.
Perhaps from engaging in so many outdoor activities,
they looked even healthier.
Better than before the kidnapping.
It was the natural result of eating well and resting properly at the resort.
It had been paradise, quite literally.
When told the operation was over and they had to return, most felt reluctant.
Some even asked if they couldn’t stay a few more days.
To that extent, this time had been happiness itself.
“If you go out looking like this, it will be problematic. Let’s change your clothes.”
“Change your shoes too. Those heels are too much.”
“Remove your makeup… tone down the color cosmetics as well.”
“Those of you who haven’t shaved did well. Anyone with wax in their hair, rub it out.”
“We have prepared clothes here—change into these.”
The families immediately understood what the National Intelligence Service official meant.
Even they could see these weren’t the faces of people who had been kidnapped and released.
They were the faces of tourists returning from an enjoyable vacation.
Suppressed laughter escaped.
The situation was bewildering, yet amusing.
Still, they obediently followed the official’s instructions.
I changed into fresh clothes and washed away the makeup.
I composed my expression.
Sad thoughts, sad thoughts.
“Don’t forget. You didn’t just visit a resort.”
“You were held captive by kidnappers until just now, and you’ve barely been released!”
“You hostages know this, right? You were simply confined in the warehouse.”
“You know nothing. There was no abuse. There were no incidents whatsoever.”
“Your families merely waited at the accommodation we provided for you. Understood?”
“And absolutely no television appearances or interviews.”
“Yes.”
The people responded to the National Intelligence Service official’s words.
This was a story they’d been drilled on multiple times a day.
“Well. Now you look quite convincing. Let’s go out.”
At the National Intelligence Service official’s signal, the airplane door opened.
[Welcome Home Safe]
The banner caught my eye first.
Behind it came countless reporters and cameras.
A barrage of flashes I’d never experienced before.
The reporters requested interviews, but we declined citing the hostages’ psychological instability.
Instead, one representative was chosen to offer a brief greeting.
“First, I sincerely thank the South Korean government for rescuing us.”
He paused for a moment.
His voice seemed to catch.
“I truly… never thought I would see my family again.”
At those words, the family member standing behind shed tears.
“The hardest part while we were there was… the anxiety of wondering if I could ever return.”
“But South Korea did not abandon us.”
Camera flashes erupted more intensely.
“I would like to take this opportunity to once again thank the intelligence officials who worked tirelessly for us, and all those who made this rescue possible. Thank you so much. I also thank all the citizens who were concerned for us.”
“Thank you… truly.”
He bowed deeply.
The hostages and families behind him bowed as well.
The news spread rapidly.
It was broadcast as breaking news and became the headline of the evening news.
“All kidnapped hostages return home safely.”
“South Korean government successfully rescues overseas hostages.”
“Dramatic return through close cooperation with Philippine government.”
Not a single casualty.
No injuries.
A perfect operation.
He even closed a massive weapons export contract.
It was a significant diplomatic achievement.
The news anchor’s voice continued.
“Following this incident, South Korea and the Philippines’ relationship is expected to strengthen further.”
“Both nations are projected to maintain close cooperation in security and defense.”
.
.
.
Cheongwadae.
President Kim Min-su was reviewing his approval rating graph.
The approval rating was skyrocketing.
It was his highest approval rating since taking office.
Even higher than immediately after his inauguration.
The reason was clear.
He had rescued the hostages safely,
and protected his people.
Simultaneously, he had exported weapons,
and strengthened military cooperation with the Philippines.
From a single incident,
he had achieved results across security, diplomacy, and economics.
Moreover, he had clearly demonstrated the message of saving his people.
Essentially, killing three birds with one stone.
Or rather, nearly four birds with one stone.
The media had extensively covered these achievements day after day,
and even projected future defense export expansion and economic ripple effects.
They praised the government’s response capability.
They commended President Kim Min-su’s leadership.
Yet only one person occupied President Kim Min-su’s thoughts.
Gong In-bae. Or rather, Alex.
All this glory was nothing but his creation.
Suddenly, he recalled the grilled pork belly they had shared.
He remembered that night—gazing at the sky until late into the evening.
He missed him.
.
.
.
An apartment in Seoul.
The man who had made a statement at the airport and his family were having dinner.
Late evening.
Familiar home-cooked food.
The sound of the television chatter.
The ordinary daily life they had longed for unfolded before them.
The man, who had been eating in silence for a while, carefully opened his mouth.
“Why were you crying earlier?”
The Woman in Cheongsam set down her chopsticks.
“When?”
“At the airport. While I was presenting, you were sobbing in the back.”
“Oh..”
The Woman in Cheongsam let out a small sound as if remembering.
“What was it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“What? Tell me.”
The woman hesitated briefly before carefully speaking.
“Just.. I was thinking about that place.”
“That place?”
“The Resort”
A brief silence.
The man barely suppressed his laughter as he asked.
“··· You cried because of that?”
The Woman in Cheongsam nodded.
“I thought we’d never be able to go back, and it’s so expensive…”
The man chuckled.
The Woman in Cheongsam laughed along with him.
“It was really nice, though. But isn’t Home better?”
The man spoke while glancing around their Apartment, their nest.
“No.”
But the Woman in Cheongsam’s answer was short and firm.
The man burst into laughter.
Laughter rippled softly across the dining table.
******
“I’ve finished everything.”
Toto spoke quietly.
Where Toto led me, hundreds of thermal pressure grenades stood lined up.
I picked up one of them.
It was light.
The feel in my hand was
remarkably similar to a butane canister.
The size and weight matched it almost exactly.
“Be careful. That thing has more destructive power than you’d think.”
“Really?”
It looks like a butane canister,
but what’s inside is something entirely different.
I carefully set the object down.
“I’ve named it ‘Air-less.'”
“Air-less···”
I rolled the name around in my mouth.
Not bad.
A weapon that strips away air itself, true to its name.
That’s when Allen spoke up beside me.
“Preparations for deployment are complete.”
I nodded.
The plan had changed.
I’d waited, but Adrian never came to Zamboanga.
He didn’t attack.
I’d thought he would find some way to strike at Zamboanga, at me, but I was wrong.
Instead, he’d gone into hiding.
We, who had prepared for defense, were forced to consider a different approach.
We found Adrian in his hiding place.
He didn’t show up on CCTV or TraceNet.
So we changed direction.
Instead of tracking the man, we followed the money.
And that led us to Luxembourg.
Now we’ve become the hunters, going after Adrian.
“Tian Zihao. Adrian’s location?”
“Adrian’s exact position remains unconfirmed. However, based on the bank he’s using, he appears to be somewhere near Bock Fortress.”
“Bock Fortress···”
A fortress situated in the heart of Luxembourg.
Massive underground tunnels and bunkers wind along the cliffs like a labyrinth.
Once a military stronghold,
it’s now an underground passage connecting the entire city and a tourist attraction.
I let out a short laugh.
“No wonder he’s been so hard to find.”
If he’d moved only through the underground, finding him would be nearly impossible.
There are dozens of entrances, and the passages twist like a maze.
Many sections aren’t even open to the public.
If Adrian had utilized all of that, it’s only natural we couldn’t locate him.
After going through the complex analysis,
the conclusion was singular.
There’s nothing we can do here.
“Let’s go.”
Allen nodded at my words.
Toto secured the Earset.
We headed toward Luxembourg.
******
Luxembourg.
A small country, but the perfect city to disappear in.
Blending in among the tourists,
it was nearly impossible to distinguish one person from another.
So we became tourists ourselves.
We slipped into the crowd as sightseers.
The Obsidian Unit dispersed.
Some posed as couples,
others as friends,
and still others as solo travelers enjoying the sights.
Cameras in hand, map apps open, we combed through Luxembourg.
But our eyes never stopped scanning the surroundings.
We weren’t sightseeing.
We were searching.
Particularly, we were focusing our search on Bock Fortress.
“Eastern passage. No sign of the target.”
“The observation deck is crowded. Visual confirmation impossible.”
“Exit twelve. Target not confirmed.”
Reports streamed continuously through the Earset in my ear.
I too was scanning Bock Fortress with my own eyes, searching for Adrian.
But now that I was actually here at Bock Fortress,
I realized this was far more difficult than I’d anticipated.
Dozens of entrances.
Corridors twisted together like a labyrinth.
People constantly flowing and mixing.
Was it even possible to find a disguised Adrian in this place?
It seemed unlikely.
Would I need to change tactics again?
I deliberated seriously on the matter.
.
.
.
At that very moment.
Adrian was in the same location.
A hat, sunglasses, casual attire.
To anyone’s eye, he looked like just another traveler.
Adrian walked among the tourists.
He had to visit the bank again today.
Adrian was gathering funds here in Luxembourg.
He consolidated the scattered assets from various locations into one place.
He needed escape funds.
Fortunately, there were no issues transferring money from the old accounts.
Rather than earning interest,
these secret accounts actually charged fees,
but now he found himself grateful for their existence.
Honestly, visiting several banks in a single day was no easy task.
It was cumbersome and exhausting.
I wanted to delegate this to my subordinates.
In fact, I did assign simple tasks to them.
But money was different.
I had to handle it personally.
It wasn’t that I distrusted the men at my side.
But I couldn’t trust them enough to entrust them with account funds.
Greed awakens at the sight of treasure.
Everyone develops avarice when they see money.
Especially when it’s enough to change one’s entire life.
Adrian planned to use the underground passages of Bock Fortress to reach the bank.
But he paused briefly, sensing something subtle.
Something felt wrong.
An inexplicable sense of discord.
It felt like someone was watching from somewhere.
Adrian didn’t verify that gaze.
Instead, he naturally opened the bag slung over his shoulder.
And rummaging through it,
he turned back as if he’d forgotten something.
Taking a different route than the one he came.
The act was so natural,
it truly seemed like a traveler who’d left something behind at the hotel.
It was so seamless and flawless that even the Obsidian Unit searching for Adrian failed to notice.
.
.
.
“Target shows no reaction.”
Faced with continued radio silence, they decided to change tactics.
Continuing to search Bock Fortress seemed pointless.
It seemed better to leave only a skeleton crew and let the remaining Obsidian Unit rest.
“Reorganize into pairs. Five teams total. Switch to patrol pattern.”
“Circulate through the sectors while monitoring. No stationary posts.”
“No contact. Maintain distance. Report immediately upon sighting, then pursue.”
“Understood.”
After issuing the orders, I stood
staring blankly at the entrance to Bock Fortress where people constantly flowed in and out.
An endless stream of visitors passed through.
Tourists, guides, photographers, shoppers.
Watching them, my confidence wavered.
I had believed that if I came here, if I searched Bock Fortress thoroughly, I would find some trace of Adrian.
But it wasn’t that simple.
Looking at the passing crowds,
looking at Bock Fortress itself—could I really find Adrian? Doubt crept in.
Should I proceed with the operation as planned?
Or should I change course? I was confused.
At that moment, someone who appeared to be a tourist hurried back the way they came.
It seemed like they had forgotten something at the hotel, and I was about to turn away,
but their direction was odd.
They weren’t retracing their steps—they were heading a different way.
‘That’s strange.’
If someone had forgotten something,
if someone had lost something,
the natural thing would be to retrace their steps.
Yet they were going an entirely different direction.
Suspicious.
And they were limping.
Not severely, but distinctly limping.
No cane, but definitely favoring one leg.
It was worth investigating.
“Gate 9-W. Beige slacks, gray windbreaker. Limping gait. Requires verification.”
“Team 2 is moving out.”
“Do not approach. Observe from a distance only.”
“Roger.”
.
.
.
Adrian had left Bock Fortress and entered the city streets.
There was no better place to hide than the urban sprawl.
The streets were labyrinthine,
winding in irregular patterns.
Stairs and slopes intertwined in a chaotic maze.
My vision fractured repeatedly,
and the path ahead defied prediction.
The terrain was perfect for losing a pursuer.
I didn’t know who it was,
but someone was definitely following me.
I didn’t confront them.
I simply let them pass through my awareness.
I hoped it was merely a phantom born of heightened nerves.
But the sensation was unmistakable.
They were following.
Keeping their distance,
yet I felt their presence at my back.
Still, I refused to quicken my pace.
Changing speed would only confirm their suspicions.
The limp I once wore like a medal now felt like nothing but a burden.
I turned a corner into a narrower alley.
Few people lingered here.
At the next corner, I turned again.
The moment I rounded it, I released what I’d been holding.
A sharp pop.
White smoke erupted in a thick cloud.
My vision vanished in an instant.
Adrian did not pass through the smoke.
Instead, I slipped into a building across the way and opened its door.
I climbed the stairs to the rooftop and peered down below.
As expected.
Seconds later, a figure emerged into the smoke-filled alley.
Cautiously,
they began searching through the haze.
My expression remained unmoved as I watched.
I simply stopped observing.
I didn’t need to see who was chasing me.
There was no need for confirmation.
I already knew who it was.
Without hesitation, I turned away.
I left quietly.
Nothing remained where Adrian had stood.

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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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