I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 68

—————

This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

—————

068-The Dark Night of Dalapaanan 2
68.
The dark night of Dalapaanan had begun.
Abu Sayyaf pushed forward with armored vehicles leading the charge.
Bullets fired by the Bangsamoro Liberation Front were repeatedly stopped by the armored vehicles,
and Abu Sayyaf soldiers safely advanced into the BLF positions from behind the armor.
Watching Abu Sayyaf relentlessly push forward, Karim felt his composure slip.
He had prepared extensively.
He’d positioned forces at every possible entry route and installed booby traps throughout.
He’d believed this would be enough to inflict serious casualties on Abu Sayyaf, but he was wrong.
They kept advancing without end.
Abu Sayyaf’s military strength was far greater than anticipated.
That said, they hadn’t achieved a bloodless victory.
Abu Sayyaf had suffered heavy losses as well.
But their forces were so overwhelming that the damage barely showed.
The BLF had also prepared thoroughly.
Booby traps installed throughout the area slowed Abu Sayyaf’s advance.
The pre-positioned traps began detonating in multiple locations.
They even managed to destroy one armored vehicle.
BLF soldiers in ambush positions repeatedly attacked and withdrew.
In the process, many Abu Sayyaf soldiers fell.
Yet they couldn’t stop Abu Sayyaf from pushing through.
Abu Sayyaf possessed elite-level troops and weaponry.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, Amir’s expression twisted into something vicious.
This wasn’t what he’d wanted.
The casualties were far worse than expected.
Amir had envisioned an almost bloodless conquest, but something had gone wrong.
Amir hadn’t kept his attack on the BLF secret.
In fact, he’d spread the word deliberately.
He’d believed the BLF would be paralyzed by fear.
Now that Murad, their absolute spiritual pillar, was dead,
he’d thought that if Abu Sayyaf attacked as well, many would abandon the BLF.
The BLF would collapse.
He’d expected them to flee in search of safer ground.
There had indeed been signs of such movement.
His informants within the BLF had continuously reported such intelligence.
So he’d imagined a scenario where he’d display overwhelming firepower against the ragtag BLF before casually walking in victorious.
In fact, from a distance, they’d used armored vehicles to bombard the enemy base with artillery fire.
I thought we’d cleaned things up to a reasonable degree,
and assumed all the fighters hiding in the Bangsamoro Liberation Front base were dead.
But the Bangsamoro Liberation Front was somewhere we hadn’t anticipated.
Their resistance was far more fierce than expected.
Murad’s death had actually unified the Bangsamoro Liberation Front even more tightly.
The casualties were already too severe.
How much was that armored vehicle worth?
We’d already lost many soldiers.
But having come this far, we couldn’t simply retreat.
To flee empty-handed without achieving anything?
That was absolutely unacceptable.
My position as leader of the Rebel Forces could become precarious.
In a rebel organization, a coup could happen at any moment.
If I don’t maintain perfect control over the organization, problems can arise at any time in a rebel force.
I couldn’t back down.
Even if blood was spilled, I had to push forward.
I unleashed a torrent of firepower.
We fired everything we could.
We poured everything into it.
.
.
.
“Young Boss, what should we do? Shouldn’t we be joining the battle now?”
“No, wait. All forces stand by.”
“All forces stand by.”
“All forces stand by.”
At my single word, two hundred Tamaya Military soldiers held their positions.
The Seoul University study method truly is flawless.
There’s no discord.
I had only one reason for ordering them to wait.
The time wasn’t right yet.
Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front still had strength remaining.
Both seemed panicked by the unexpected situation,
but they were only startled and confused—they weren’t weakened yet.
What I wanted wasn’t victory in battle.
It wasn’t the title of having defeated Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front through my own fighting.
What I truly wanted was.
the complete annihilation of Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front.
That was all that mattered.
While we’re at it, let’s pick up the scraps that fell and eat them too.
So we have to wait until the two of them fight and strike each other more.
We have to wait until they bleed more.
When both of them bleed so much they can’t stand up.
Then, we finally begin the war.
.
.
.
Abu Sayyaf had entered the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s main headquarters.
There was no mercy for Abu Sayyaf as they fought their way into the BLF’s main base.
A vicious killing intent hung in the air.
They fired indiscriminately at everything in sight.
Just when it seemed the BLF would fall,
BLF forces that had been lying in ambush throughout the compound rushed into the main headquarters.
From their ambush positions, they blocked the intruders,
and while continuously retreating, they inflicted casualties on Abu Sayyaf.
But now that Abu Sayyaf had reached the main headquarters, those in the ambush positions couldn’t attack them.
They had no choice but to come all the way to the main base and begin fighting.
The cycle of killing and dying repeated endlessly.
.
.
.
Amir ordered a full assault.
He said to leave nothing behind.
Kill all the BLF,
and don’t spare a single soul, he commanded.
Karim was the same.
It didn’t matter if it was dishonorable.
They had to hold the line no matter what.
*******
“Bomb placement is complete.”
“Good. What about the Blue Team?”
“Blue Team is ready with the mortars.”
“Good. Be ready to fire the moment I give the signal.”
Right now, Abu Sayyaf and the BLF were squeezing out their last strength, killing each other.
Neither side was breaking their resolve.
They’re doing well.
The night had grown deep,
and visibility had darkened.
Yet the battle showed no signs of ending.
But a brief lull descended upon the battlefield.
Everyone was exhausted.
This was it.
The moment we’d been waiting for.
“Blue Team. Mortar crews, stand by.”
“Ready.”
“Three. Two. One. Fire.”
“Firing.”
As Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front took a brief respite in their exhaustion, mortars began to rain down.
Not just one volley.
Dozens, then hundreds of rounds continued to fall relentlessly.
If the mortars were concentrated in one location, we could have mounted a response—but they weren’t.
From positions encircling the BLF’s main stronghold, mortar fire poured down like a deluge.
There was no way to counter it.
All they could do was take cover and hide their bodies.
“Scatter! Get to cover!”
“Take shelter!”
Both Karim and Amir shouted simultaneously at the sight of the incoming barrage.
But their voices couldn’t carry far enough.
Countless soldiers fell before them.
Karim screamed orders.
He bellowed for everyone to take cover.
Mid-shout, Karim suddenly collapsed.
The man beside him didn’t even realize Karim had been shot.
The deafening roar of exploding mortars consumed all attention.
But Amir saw it.
His entire body went rigid with dread.
There was a sniper out there somewhere.
That sniper had likely eliminated Murad.
We’d been deceived.
We’d fallen into their trap.
Everything had progressed so smoothly—I should have sensed something was wrong.
I cursed my own arrogance, my failure to suspect.
But it was already too late.
I’d made a fatal miscalculation.
I had to retreat immediately.
The moment I thought to pull back, my forehead stung sharply.
I raised my hand to touch my brow.
A deep wound had opened across my forehead where none had existed before.
Before I could even comprehend what had happened, I collapsed.
“The commander has fallen.”
“Amir has fallen.”
“We’re retreating.”
“Retreat. Retreat.”
Abu Sayyaf, having lost their leader, hastily decided to fall back.
The casualties were already catastrophic, but they had to retreat now.
They’d even lost their leader.
But retreat proved far from simple.
Explosions erupted along their withdrawal route.
It was the same path they’d come through,
yet bombs detonated the moment they tried to backtrack.
Boom, boom, boom, boom.
With each step Abu Sayyaf took, another explosion tore through the ground.
Just when I thought they’d managed to escape the bombardment, Damaya’s Red Team was waiting ahead.
.
.
.
By the time the scorching rain of mortar fire subsided,
we descended to the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s headquarters to mop up the remaining forces.
The reality on the ground was nothing like what we’d observed from above.
It was far more devastating, far more horrific.
So one really should live righteously.
Damaya Military methodically eliminated the stragglers.
We hunted down the remnants hiding in every corner.
In the process, we collected the spoils of war.
Rifles, weapons, and cash lay stacked everywhere.
The haul was better than expected.
We even secured the armored vehicles.
Sweet victory.
And so the dark night of Dalapaanan gave way to dawn.
Operation 【Ibada】 had concluded successfully.
.
.
.
“You’ve worked hard.”
In a single night, we’d dismantled Mindanao’s rebel forces.
Though preparation had consumed considerable time and resources, the results justified the effort.
Some units had secured the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s territory,
while the rest moved directly to Abu Sayyaf’s main base and stripped it completely bare.
Since Abu Sayyaf had committed every available soldier to this engagement, their headquarters lay utterly vacant.
We managed to enter the main headquarters without firing a single shot.
We ransacked the main base thoroughly, seized everything of value, and returned to Damaya’s headquarters with our spoils.
We even took documents and records.
With this, the Rebel Forces could be considered neutralized.
Of course, the New People’s Army (NPA) remained, but they had limited external activities and were still relatively weak.
For now, we could afford to leave them be.
That said, we wouldn’t simply ignore them—we’d continue monitoring their movements.
Our decisions would shift based on how they acted.
There was also a reason for caution in taking immediate action.
Behind the New People’s Army (NPA) stood the Communist Party.
There was no need to escalate things unnecessarily.
Still, we wouldn’t forget to keep watch.
*******
Simon’s appearance had transformed.
Now he truly bore the bearing of a rebel leader.
Through the dark war in Dalapaanan’s night, Damaya had emerged victorious.
Mindanao, one of the Philippines’ largest islands, had fallen under Simon’s control.
Damaya had conquered every region of Mindanao.
We’d seized all the influence that Abu Sayyaf had enjoyed,
and everything the Bangsamoro Liberation Front (BLF) had possessed.
We’d even acquired the farms, mines, and other assets that Abu Sayyaf and the BLF had controlled.
On top of that, we’d absorbed their political power intact.
Those Abu Sayyaf guys were meticulous.
They’d kept detailed records of every transaction with politicians.
It was all documented in the papers we brought back.
Thanks to that, we could easily bring them to our side.
Even without those records, the politicians would have no choice but to support us.
Politicians are beings who must always rely on someone.
The only difference was that their patron had changed from Abu Sayyaf and the BLF to Damaya.
Nothing else had changed.
In Mindanao, no force could stand against Damaya.
We’d completely consumed Mindanao.
.
.
.
New people began seeking to join Damaya.
We tried to accept as many as we could, but their numbers were substantial.
In fact, “substantial” hardly captured the scale of it.
It was far more massive than that.
It was like recruiting for a major corporation’s public hiring.
The competition was so fierce that they had to administer written exams and physical fitness tests.
That’s how intense the competition was.
Was it really such a big deal that we were offering salaries?
In truth, the people we were recruiting this time weren’t for building a rebel force.
We needed workers for the farms, mines, and logging operations we’d inherited from Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front.
The people who used to work there were all gone now.
The places had been completely emptied out.
So we needed workers.
They’d come out occasionally to receive training, serve in the rebel forces, and work on the farms.
How perfect could it be?
For me, it was killing two birds with one stone.
Moreover, many people sympathized with Damaya’s usual conduct and actions,
so when they volunteered for the rebel forces, I could sense a kind of pride in them—a feeling that they were doing the right thing.
But wasn’t that obvious?
You pay people when they work, don’t you?
Was this really something to make all of Mindanao buzz like this?
This really is an incomprehensible place.
Of course, I wasn’t the one paying the salaries.
Simon would handle that himself.
Damaya had absorbed two rebel forces, each several times larger than our own organization.
The spoils of war we collected after the battles were substantial,
and we’d also seized the businesses they’d been running.
This meant we now had economic breathing room.
We could move forward independently without my support.
We could easily afford salaries at that level.
******
Zamboanga, Philippines.
I called Patrick to Zamboanga.
In truth, the people around me all seemed interchangeable, like different variations of the same thing, but I did make distinctions in my own way.
Candy Travel Agency was one bundle—hotels, tours, and travel services.
GoGo Casino was another bundle—online casinos, Candy Coin, exchanges, and money laundering.
Arms dealing and rebel forces were bundled together.
Drug smuggling was more like my own private side gig.
I tried to stay within those categories as much as possible.
For example, it was like not assigning GoGo Casino work to Scott,
or arms dealing work to Ana.
I wanted whatever happened in each domain to stay contained within it.
Since it wasn’t exactly righteous work anyway, I didn’t see the need to broadcast it around.
That’s just my standard—it doesn’t mean I always adhered to it.
Just thinking about it now, how many times have I asked Patrick to introduce me to people?
Patrick is useful in many ways.
I’ve even considered keeping him as my secretary.
But I didn’t do that because I know he’s far more valuable elsewhere than by my side.
I’m well aware that Patrick’s role was crucial in keeping Candy Tour running smoothly.
A brilliant graduate of the University of the Philippines.
A networking master with connections all over the place.
Yet Patrick, who serves as our secretary-general.
There was a good reason I called Patrick all the way out here to Zamboanga.
“Patrick. I want you to become the mayor of Zamboanga.”
“Pardon?”

—————

This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

—————