I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 61

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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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061-Sandro Group
61.
“Boss. Bohol is completely under our control.”
“Good work. You’ve earned your rest.”
“Should we move on to Cebu next?”
“Send a few men first to scout the atmosphere.”
Sandro gave his hardworking subordinate’s shoulder a light pat.
Sandro had been expanding his influence like a madman lately.
He no longer used the name “Bahala Na”.
He’d replaced it with “Sandro Group”.
Sandro Group had become the undisputed top organization in Bohol.
It was possible because of loyal members and massive capital backing him.
He absorbed smaller organizations and crushed the larger ones.
Now no one could operate in Bohol without Sandro Group’s permission.
Without his approval, it was nearly impossible to start or maintain any business.
With distribution networks firmly in hand, Sandro Group supplied liquor, food ingredients, and more.
Nothing was delivered to places Sandro Group didn’t approve of.
The underworld was completely controlled by Sandro Group.
The reason Sandro poured such effort into expanding his power was none other than Alex.
That madman who suddenly showed up one day wanting to buy Marian.
The madman who walked into the gangster office holding Marian’s hand and cheerfully asked how much she cost.
I thought he was crazy, but he turned out to be far more insane than expected.
I tried to subdue this mad dog with a club, but instead I was overpowered in mere moments.
But in that instant, I saw it.
His unhesitating attitude as he fired his gun.
The fact that he aimed at places that wouldn’t kill even if hit.
That’s when I realized.
He was someone I could never defeat through force.
Even as he pulled the trigger, there was composure in his movements.
I don’t know what kind of life he’d lived,
but it was clear he’d survived in a hellish place.
He never speaks of his past.
He only talks about the present.
He doesn’t even dream of the future.
There was something unsettling about that aspect of him.
He seemed like someone living only for today.
It was as if Alex had no future.
Alex had brilliant ideas and money.
He didn’t hesitate to spend ideas and money.
He’d tell me to pay the hospital bills for organization members who got shot,
He handed over money in thick bundles just for bringing a few bags.
Yet he never made unreasonable demands or tried to lord his position over anyone.
Out of nowhere, he proposed a partnership and suggested we venture into tourism.
What about purchasing Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake?
Who would have thought to buy those places with money?
I figured they were just there—anyone could go and use them.
Acquiring those locations turned out to be a masterstroke,
and Candy Tour became Bohol’s premier travel agency, owning two resorts.
Sandro was more than satisfied with his role as headquarters director at Candy Tour, and he was happy.
Of course, he didn’t care for the name Candy Tour, but that hardly mattered.
The organization members’ satisfaction was exceptionally high.
Regular salaries flowing in every month, bonuses, social security benefits.
And occasionally, generous lump sums of cash handed out on a whim.
The organization members took pride in the Candy Tour uniform.
They wouldn’t tolerate getting it dirty.
But Alex was different.
He didn’t wear the uniform.
It wasn’t as though he wore formal attire for the dignity of being a representative either.
He always wore shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, with a fedora on his head.
Said it was the most touristy outfit imaginable.
Over a year of staying here, and he still acts like a tourist.
He’s truly insane.
That’s what made me anxious.
Worried he’d leave the moment his sightseeing was done.
Worried he’d abandon this place once he felt there was nothing left to see.
He showed no attachment to this place, as if he never dreamed of a future.
He looked like someone ready to drop everything and leave at any moment.
Before Sandro spoke up, he lived in a tiny single room he’d found when he first arrived,
and he ate nothing but the same boxed lunches the staff ate.
Despite being the representative, he never hoped for or demanded special treatment.
Though he earned enormous sums, he mostly reinvested them into other ventures or distributed them among the staff.
He seemed attached to nothing.
I’d never seen him buy anything for himself.
Not money, not people, not power—
he clung to nothing at all.
That unsettled me deeply.
The way he looked ready to leave at any moment.
Alex existed in our innermost circle,
yet he conducted himself like an outsider.
Alex was beloved by everyone,
Alex seemed unaware that he was loved.
That’s why Sandro wanted to tell him.
That you are someone precious to us.
That you are our family.
So Sandro decided to make Bohol into Alex’s home.
A place where he could lean on us and rest whenever he needed,
A place where no one would ever dare to touch Alex.
No matter how grave Alex’s sins were,
Even if he had killed someone and was on Interpol’s red notice.
Here in Bohol, I would let him live in peace.
We would protect Alex.
That was the only thing on Sandro’s mind.
So he took complete control of Bohol.
Sandro was happy living alongside Alex.
He wanted to be with this madman.
It was thrilling to do crazy things with a crazy person.
He wanted to preserve this happiness.
******
Is this even right?
Everything is going smoothly.
This isn’t what I intended, but I don’t understand why it’s turning out this way.
Things are flowing in directions I never anticipated.
I don’t know why.
I was unemployed.
A high school graduate living in a goshiwon with no job.
A loser who discharged from the military and couldn’t last five months at a security company before quitting.
I had no special abilities.
Lacking in social skills and devoid of any remarkable talent.
Just a delivery driver who lucked into an inventory ability that others didn’t have, delivering drugs to get by.
That was me.
A loser scraping by with drug deliveries.
Now even that seemed impossible.
Immigration had flagged my travel patterns as suspicious and stamped me with code SSSS.
To continue drug deliveries abroad, I had no choice but to create a plausible cover.
A profession that would allow frequent international travel without suspicion.
That was a travel agency.
I established travel agencies in both South Korea and the Philippines.
I never intended to make money from the travel business.
I simply needed documentation for frequent international crossings.
Since it would look suspicious to have a travel agency with no customers, I decided to operate it normally.
With the mindset that losses didn’t matter.
I operated the travel agency with the intention of concealing smuggling routes.
But the travel agency thrived.
Following only the existing routes seemed uncompetitive,
so the Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake I purchased became massive hits.
Countless people flocked there daily just to see them.
Though I capped tour capacity at 100 people per day,
several times that number came flooding in.
Half of them were even tourists coming from Seoul.
In the midst of this, I purchased two resorts.
One five-star resort, one under construction.
Having tour guests stay at the resorts proved advantageous in multiple ways.
Costs decreased, and I could operate rooms more efficiently.
Especially for tours like ours that include a night of camping at Lumina Lake during the itinerary—there was no need to leave rooms vacant that day, making operations far more efficient.
Once the resort under construction (Emerald Resort) opens, I’ll be able to utilize both resorts, making operations even more efficient.
As I began operating the resorts, the cash flow improved as well.
Profits increased substantially.
That’s when Dae-hun contacted me.
Pitying Dae-hun, who couldn’t establish himself in Gunsan and was floundering, I created an online gambling site for him.
This was created separately with my own money, unrelated to Candy Tour.
Just pocket money, I told him.
Yet why did that succeed too?
Money poured in so heavily that money laundering became necessary.
I’m barely managing to launder money using coins and exchanges.
I even picked up an arms dealer along the way.
Truly, something new was happening every single day.
To a degree I could barely handle.
Lately, I can’t even calculate how much I’m earning.
By the time I finish counting, more money has been made.
There was nothing lacking.
Everything was abundant.
But…
But…is this really the life I wanted?
Or did I ever even have a life I wanted?
I looked in the mirror.
A young man in a Hawaiian shirt stared back at me.
He looked like a tourist, yet something about him seemed unsettled.
I asked myself in the reflection.
Is this really the life you want?
Is this really where you belong?
Is this really my home?
I couldn’t answer.
So if I leave this place?
Would there be another home for me somewhere else?
Would there be a life I truly wanted?
That too, I couldn’t answer.
I don’t even know what kind of life I want for myself.
This mirror can’t answer in my stead.
There is no answer.
Only surviving each day.
Living as a stranger, day after day.
.
.
.
“Gong In-bae?”
“Yes? Who is this?”
“Isn’t this Gong In-bae’s phone?”
“Ah, yes it is?”
Hearing my real name after so long, I was momentarily confused about who they were talking to.
After living as Alex, being called Gong In-bae felt strange.
It was like floating in the void, only to be slammed into the gutter the moment my name was called.
“This is Mokpo Police Station. You are Gong Yong-seok’s son, correct?”
A name I hadn’t heard in a long time.
Hearing my father’s name made that gutter feeling even filthier.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“I’m afraid I have difficult news to share. Gong Yong-seok has been found deceased.”
“…”
“Hello?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
“He was discovered during an investigation. Based on the absence of any significant trauma or criminal involvement, we’re treating it as a natural death. It appears he passed away in his sleep in his single room.”
“What do I need to do?”
“You’ll need to decide whether to accept the body.”
“Can I refuse to accept the body?”
“Some people do refuse. In such cases, the body would be transferred to the local government and a public funeral would be arranged.”
“Hmm…”
“We need you to let us know whether you’ll accept the body so we can proceed accordingly. I understand this is difficult, but if you could make a decision and inform us, we’ll move forward based on your choice.”
“Could you give me a little time to think?”
“If you could decide by tomorrow and let us know, that would be best. We can’t keep putting this off on our end either.”
“Thank you for understanding. I’ll think it over and contact you right away.”
“Then I’ll end the call.”
The moment the call ended, a flood of memories crashed into my mind.
Unpleasant memories I thought I’d forgotten, memories I believed had faded, surfaced relentlessly.
Throwing punches and kicks whenever he was in a bad mood was routine.
Flipping over dinner tables, hurling objects, smashing everything in the house.
One day, he said my face looked too much like my mother’s and came at me with a knife.
I was so terrified that I fled barefoot.
Running barefoot through a cold winter, my feet tore open—a memory that haunted me for a long time.
The memory of being tied up and beaten with a belt when I tried to escape.
The memory of drinking tap water because I was hungry, rummaging through scraps.
All those memories wrapped around me.
I thought there would be at least one good memory,
but no matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t find a single one.
The more I thought, the more nauseating, vile memories surfaced.
If there had been even a few good memories, I would have gone and held a proper funeral,
but no matter how hard I tried to recall them, such memories simply didn’t exist.
So I picked up the phone to inform them that I was giving up custody of the body.
But I couldn’t bring myself to press the call button.
If I just called and said I was refusing to take the body, everything would be over,
yet I couldn’t do it.
I simply hesitated.
I don’t understand my own heart.
As a child, I was only afraid,
as I grew older, I avoided him at all costs,
and after twenty, I lived as if he didn’t exist.
Then suddenly, that person burst back into my life.
Dead.
I could refuse the body and simply continue living my life,
but it wasn’t that simple.
I don’t know what I’m feeling.
At least I wanted to see him one last time.
How pathetically he went.
I wanted to confirm it with my own eyes.
Perhaps I wanted to boast, “Look how well I’m doing.”
For reasons I couldn’t explain, I decided I had to go to South Korea and hold a funeral.
I had no intention of holding a proper one.
I planned to do it as miserably as possible.
I’d place only some cheap snacks and a bottle of soju on the memorial table.
That’s what I envisioned for my father’s funeral.
Pathetic, shabby, and pitiful.
Something that would make people frown in disgust.
My father doesn’t need to drink much.
Even if he drank more, he’d just cause trouble there too.
Since I was weak, he could hit me whenever he wanted, but I’m not sure he’ll be able to do that there.
So I need to warn him in advance.
With that thought, I headed toward South Korea.

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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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