I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 66

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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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066-Sowing Discord
66.
Zamboanga, Philippines.
“Dennis, I think we need to bring in more weapons.”
“What kind of weapons are you referring to?”
“Drones, body armor, tactical vests—we need over 200 sets in total.”
“Should we have Damaya handle it?”
“Of course. We have to keep the men alive, don’t we? Even if it seems trivial, that gear saves lives when it matters most.”
“Haven’t you already provided considerable support? The funds transferred to Damaya are substantial.”
“I know. But I can’t send those men to their deaths just to save money.”
“I’m simply concerned about the expenses.”
“Don’t worry. I’m doing this because it’s manageable at this level.”
That’s what I said, but supporting Damaya consumed an enormous amount of resources.
Truthfully, it wasn’t even proper support.
It was more like charity for the underprivileged.
Providing food, uniforms, weapons, equipment—that was all.
I hadn’t paid salaries or enrolled them in social security.
I’d only covered the basics, the essentials.
That was everything.
Yet even those basics came with staggering costs.
If GoGo Casino hadn’t been generating obscene profits recently, I would’ve been in serious trouble.
What was I thinking, spouting such nonsense about buying Damaya’s loyalty?
I should’ve just sold guns and called it a day.
Yet watching Damaya grow stronger with each passing day, despite my regrets, filled me with pride.
Humans are amusing creatures.
My mind knows the answer is wrong, yet I find myself cheering anyway.
I know the right answer exists, yet I deliberately choose the wrong one.
It’s foolishness incarnate.
But on the other hand, I entertain a different thought.
What if this is actually the right answer?
What if it becomes the right answer?
What if it’s possible with Damaya by my side?
Such futile musings.
.
.
.
Simon and I sat in the office.
Dennis sat beside me.
We were devising a strategy to make the Rebel Forces fight—
specifically, to pit the first and second factions against each other.
If these two don’t fight,
if they don’t clash and wound each other, the unification of the Rebel Forces will never happen.
Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front must go to war.
Only when they grind each other’s forces down will even the smallest opening appear.
“It won’t be easy. In fact, it’s impossible. I’ve told you this countless times, but they will never fight.”
“Why?”
“They know each other far too well. They can’t unite, but they’re not reckless enough to encroach on each other’s territory.”
“Simon’s right about that. There have been psychological operations to provoke conflict between them many times, but none have ever succeeded.”
Dennis answered in his place.
This is troublesome.
The Rebel Forces avoid fighting?
This isn’t simple at all.
At least psychological warfare doesn’t work on them.
“Tell me again about the leaders of Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front?”
“Abu Sayyaf’s leader is named Amir. He’s a graduate of the Philippine Military Academy with deep knowledge of military theory, and he commands absolute loyalty from his subordinates. He believes that violence is the most righteous path to achieving objectives.”
“And the Bangsamoro Liberation Front?”
“The BLF’s leader is Murad, a man who pursues extreme pragmatism. He seeks solutions through negotiation and dialogue rather than violence.”
“They’re so different, yet they don’t fight?”
“Whenever Amir tries to act, Murad always talks him down. He tells him there’s nothing to gain from fighting each other. That sort of thing.”
“So in this situation, our greatest obstacle isn’t Amir of Abu Sayyaf, but Murad of the BLF?”
“You could say that in a narrow sense, but even without Murad, Amir would have considerable difficulty attacking the BLF.”
This is complicated.
If I don’t like something, I just fight it out.
These guys are incredibly meticulous.
“What if Murad of the BLF disappears? What happens if he’s gone?”
“If Murad disappears, his second-in-command Karim would take over.”
“What’s Karim like?”
“Karim is the complete opposite of Murad. He believes armed struggle is far more effective than dialogue.”
“Perfect then. If we eliminate Murad, Karim will fight Abu Sayyaf.”
“They could also join forces. They have many similarities.”
My thinking is different.
Amir won’t want to share his already-consolidated power with Karim,
and Karim won’t hand over the power he’s struggled to gain to Amir.
“I don’t think so. Having similar tendencies doesn’t mean having the same goals. If goals are the same, people with different tendencies can unite, but if goals differ, even similar tendencies make unity difficult.”
“However, I don’t think eliminating Murad will spark a war between the two.”
Something feels lacking.
They dislike each other.
Yet they seem to regard each other as necessary evils to some degree, so they respect each other’s territory.
I wish there was something to shatter that.
But I can’t think of what that would be.
“I wish there was some kind of trigger, but I can’t seem to remember what it was.”
“That’s true. If only there were gold deposits like in the old days.”
I didn’t miss the murmur that escaped Dennis’s lips in response to my words.
“Wait? What do you mean by that?”
“Sir?”
“About gold deposits.”
“Oh~ A long time ago, a very long time ago, there were rumors that gold existed at the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s headquarters. Exploration companies came and there was quite a commotion, but when they actually conducted surveys, there was nothing. So that was the end of it. It was a kind of incident, really.”
This is it.
My instincts are screaming.
If I orchestrate this well, it could paint a beautiful picture.
Spread rumors that gold exists at the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s headquarters.
What if the reason the Bangsamoro Liberation Front keeps demanding autonomous territory is because of that gold?
Would Amir of Abu Sayyaf sit idle?
Would he receive money from headquarters and walk Abu Sayyaf’s path without caring whether the Bangsamoro Liberation Front thrives or not?
Amir, someone with such greed?
Besides, when I helped the Rebel Forces a little, the money that went into it was no joke.
Amir wouldn’t be any different.
And the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s headquarters isn’t far away either.
If I just occupy the headquarters, I can take both the gold and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front.
For someone as greedy as Amir, it would be difficult to simply overlook.
On the other hand, the Bangsamoro Liberation Front has Murad, who insists on resolving everything through dialogue.
With Murad around, the operation could go awry.
Murad must be eliminated.
And it must appear as though Abu Sayyaf eliminated him for the gold.
Then Karim will fight on his own.
For the Bangsamoro Liberation Front, which has fewer personnel compared to Abu Sayyaf, defending would be far more advantageous.
It’s an obvious fact that the defending side has the advantage in war.
Wait? Isn’t this already finished?
Spread rumors about gold, eliminate Murad.
Abu Sayyaf attacks the Bangsamoro Liberation Front and Karim defends.
Massive casualties occur in the process.
All we have to do is capture the wounded beast.
It’s all done?
The plan is completely set?
Let’s proceed!!
********
Damn it.
It’s me again.
I’m doing it again.
I’m scattering gold dust along the riverbank near Dalapaanan, the headquarters of the Bangsamoro Liberation Front in the Philippines.
I was traveling by boat, scattering gold into the river.
What in the world was I doing?
I devised the plan, I paid for it, and I’m executing it myself.
If this is how it’s going to be, I don’t understand why I’m even supporting Damaya or spending my own money.
Isn’t it standard practice to exclude the person footing the bill?
It’s frustrating, I’ll admit,
but I brought this upon myself by volunteering to scatter the gold.
I was supposed to do it secretly and discreetly,
but since I have an inventory, both transportation and dispersal were convenient—it was an unavoidable choice.
As a result, I’m literally scattering money—no, gold, which is more expensive than money—across the riverbed.
No matter how I think about it, the operation seems poorly planned.
An operation to scatter gold across a riverbed, no less.
It came from my head, but it came out wrong.
Very wrong, it seems.
This gold is absurdly, ridiculously expensive.
A 1kg gold bar costs nearly 200 million won.
But if I grind that 1kg into powder and scatter it across the riverbed, will it even be noticeable?
And placer gold at 24 karats? That doesn’t make sense.
The purity needs to be lower. There should be impurities mixed in.
So I bought 14-karat gold.
It cost about half as much as 24-karat.
And I purchased 10 tons of ore-bearing rocks from a gold mine.
The ore rocks were actually quite affordable.
Literally just raw material extracted from the mine.
Low-purity stones with tiny traces of gold scattered throughout.
Processing costs money,
and since processing yields very little gold anyway, I was able to purchase them cheaply relative to the quantity.
Of course, that’s cheap compared to actual refined gold—not sand prices.
Why scatter gold in the river, you ask?
Well, I need to spread rumors that gold has been discovered,
but I can’t just claim gold appears out of nowhere. That won’t work.
At least some gold fragments need to show up.
People need to see something glimmering as they pass by for the rumors to spread more effectively, right?
So I planned to scatter just a little gold,
but the problem was that gold cost far more than I anticipated.
And the river was far wider than I expected.
Regardless, here I am, scattering gold across the riverbed.
Right in the heart of the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s territory.
Since anyone could tell I’m a foreigner, I brought Dennis along to avoid suspicion.
Dennis operated the boat while I scattered the gold dust.
The boat bore the inscription “UN Environmental Improvement Sanitation Project.”
What I scattered today had to be disinfectant, not gold.
.
.
.
Marco, a member of the Bangsamoro Liberation Front, had recently spotted a peculiar post on social media.
Some men boasting about panning for gold in a river, proudly uploading photos to social media.
He could have dismissed it, but something about the background looked oddly familiar.
A place he’d seen many times before.
‘Isn’t that near Dalapaanan?’
The more he looked, the more certain he became—it was definitely Dalapaanan.
Dalapaanan.
Where Marco lived.
Driven by a vague sense of curiosity, he ventured out.
Of course, there wouldn’t be any gold.
That video was obviously fabricated anyway.
Not that he was actually searching for gold, but curiosity got the better of him, and as he looked around, something glimmered in the distance.
‘No way. It can’t be.’
He carefully made his way down to the river and examined it closely.
Fine as sand,
a glittering stone caught between his fingertips.
The moment he grasped it, he knew.
It was heavy.
Unusually heavy.
This was definitely gold.
Glancing around, everything sparkled.
Eureka!!!!
.
.
.
The Bangsamoro Liberation Front members shoveled earth into baskets.
To extract placer gold.
People panning for gold filled every corner of the area.
Some had begun prospecting to locate gold veins.
The Bangsamoro Liberation Front members wandered about, eyes fixed on the ground.
Gold fever had swept through the Bangsamoro Liberation Front.
******
“Commander, have you heard the rumors? A gold mine has been discovered at the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s headquarters?”
“A gold mine?”
“Yes. Placer gold is appearing in massive quantities in the river running through Dalapaanan, and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front members are doing nothing but mining it.”
“Really?”
Amir’s eyes gleamed with avarice as his secretary relayed the news about the gold.
“They say that region has been extracting nothing but gold from the river lately.”
“But gold suddenly appearing like this?”
“The recent earthquake appears to be the cause.
“An earthquake, you say…”
“It seems the tremors twisted the earth, causing gold to flow from hidden deposits. The Bangsamoro Liberation Front is currently conducting parallel operations to locate the gold mines themselves.”
“And no one knows how much is buried there?”
“That would only be confirmed once the mines are found, wouldn’t it? However, the purity of the placer gold they’re extracting is reportedly exceptional.”
Amir fell into contemplation at his secretary’s words.
Greed stirred within me.
In truth, the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s military strength was negligible.
Compared to Abu Sayyaf, they were child’s play.
I could crush them and take everything whenever I wished.
But Murad had spoken against Muslims fighting Muslims,
and headquarters had instructed me to protect Islam where possible, so I’d been restraining myself.
But this situation was different, wasn’t it?
The Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s stronghold wasn’t far away.
If I consumed the Bangsamoro Liberation Front, I could control all of Mindanao.
The New People’s Army and Damaya existed, but they were insignificant.
This was an excellent opportunity.
To obtain the gold mines and unify Mindanao.
And yet…
Even so, I exercised superhuman restraint.
Let this pass for now.
No—I would wait.
Once the gold exploration was complete and I confirmed the scale of the deposits, there would be time enough to move in.
I would let the Bangsamoro Liberation Front handle the tedious work.
When the table was fully set, there would be no harm in picking up my spoon then.
Now was too soon.
I needed to build anticipation.
I didn’t know how much gold lay buried,
but once the table was set, I would run the numbers.
.
.
.
The Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s stronghold.
People remained absorbed in placer gold extraction.
As if a new form of entertainment had emerged, they woke each morning and rushed out to pan for gold.
Gold continued flowing from somewhere.
The gold panners were working, cracking tasteless jokes as they sifted through the riverbed.
The precious metal kept appearing in their pans, a steady trickle of fortune.
“There really must be a vein here. Gold keeps showing up.”
“Right? If we knew where it was coming from, we’d dig it out ourselves.”
“Did you hear about that?”
“What?”
“Supposedly some specialized agency is coming here to do geological surveys to find the gold vein?”
“Really? Where’s the vein?”
“How would we know? The experts will find it. Anyway, some foreign company is coming to investigate.”
“I heard about that too. There’s talk that they’re partnering with the provincial government to take the mining rights?”
“What?? This is our land—why would the government take the mining rights? That doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s what the law says, apparently. All underground resources belong to the government.”
“That’s nonsense. This is our land.”
“Strictly speaking, it’s not even our land.”
“What did you just say?”
“Legally, it’s not our land.”
“We live here, so it’s our land. We’ve lived here for generations. This is our territory that Allah has given us.”
“Did you hear? Abu Sayyaf is eyeing this place.”
“What?????”
“Hearing that gold is coming out, there’s talk they’re planning to seize it?”
“Those crazy bastards. Let them come. I’ll put a bullet in each of their skulls.”
“With your skills? Fat chance.”
“Just wait and see. If they come, I’ll show those bastards—”
BANG!!!!!
A gunshot rang out in the middle of their conversation.
A single shot.
Different from the gunfire they usually heard.
Much heavier. Much more powerful.
The gold panners quickly took cover.
“Is anyone hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Me too…”
“I’m okay.”
“Then who?”
A sharp scream pierced the air.
The men rushed toward the sound.
There lay Murad, shot dead, collapsed on the ground.
.
.
.
Allen quickly gathered his equipment and left the scene after confirming the target had fallen.
According to what I’d been taught, I should have erased all traces of my presence perfectly, but I didn’t.
I deliberately left a few clues behind.
Traces pointing to Abu Sayyaf, not to Allen.

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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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