I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 9

—————

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

—————

009-Weekend
9. Weekend
“Yaaawn…”
I must have slept deeply.
Summer is truly best spent sleeping in a tent pitched on a wooden platform.
I prepared hastily and checked my inventory once more.
Perfect.
I set off immediately for Bukhansan Mountain.
Since I came yesterday, today should be somewhat better.
I arrived at nine o’clock today.
When I arrived at ten yesterday, I already saw so many people that I decided arriving early would be better.
I set up the table with practiced ease and placed the cooler on top.
Then I attached a sign in front of it.
【Ice cream for sale. 1 for 3,000 won / 2 for 5,000 won】
【Frozen water 2,000 won】
【Kimbap, cucumber, apples available】
【Various beverages available.】
“Do you have apples?”
A customer arrived the moment I opened today as well.
She was a young woman in her twenties.
“Yes. These are delicious apples that just came up from Cheongsong. I washed them thoroughly at home. You can eat them skin and all.”
I handed her an apple that was neatly wrapped in plastic wrap.
“They’re normally 3,000 won, but since it’s opening day and you’re pretty, I’ll just take 2,000 won.”
“Hehe. You’re good at business. Give me two.”
I handed her only one.
“Just one. You’re so pretty that one is enough. You shouldn’t get any prettier.”
“Tsk.”
Yet her smile was full of joy.
She didn’t even realize it was originally 2,000 won. Amusing.
The first customer left with the apple in hand, but customers continued to stream in.
“Ice cream, please.”
Of course, as much as you’d like.
That’s why I came all the way out here to sell it.
“Is this all? Don’t you have other varieties? Like Häagen-Dazs?”
No.
And isn’t it too greedy to expect Häagen-Dazs for 3,000 won in the mountains?
Häagen-Dazs costs over 4,000 won even at convenience stores.
But you want it for 3,000 won in the mountains?
You should trip and fall on your way.
“We’re a group, twenty people, so it would be 1,500 won each, right?”
No way.
That’s nonsense.
How did I even manage to haul ice cream all the way up here, and now you want to eat it raw?
Absolutely not.
“I only have a card—what am I supposed to do? I want to eat the ice cream. Just take the card. I’m not saying I won’t pay you. What can I do if I only have a card?”
I only have cash—what am I supposed to do?
There’s no card reader here.
“Do you have kimbap too?”
Of course we do.
Plenty. Help yourself.
I handed over the kimbap.
The man in his twenties who received it was startled.
“What the—!!!”
His friend, who came with him, was equally shocked.
“Why? What? What’s wrong?”
“Damn, this kimbap is warm—”
“Is it spoiled?”
“Doesn’t seem like it. It has that cozy warmth you get right when kimbap is freshly made.”
“Cozy warmth? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t know? You emotionally bankrupt bastard.”
The man who bought the kimbap carefully peeled back the foil and took a bite.
“Wow—damn. This is insanely delicious. Better than the famous kimbap from our neighborhood?”
“Really? Give me one.”
His friend received a piece of kimbap and immediately popped it into his mouth.
“Wow, this is seriously incredible. Did you make this here? How does it taste like this? It tastes like it was just made. So there’s a kimbap specialty shop here? Wait a second.”
His friend bought a whole roll.
“I ate breakfast and wasn’t planning to eat again, but I just can’t pass this up.”
The business that started at 9 AM ended at 2 PM.
A little bit of beverages remained, but everything else sold out completely.
Truth be told, the hamburgers and cold noodles were things I’d bought for myself rather than to sell.
“Boss, are you selling those too?”
“Pardon?”
“Are you selling the cold noodles?”
“Yes, of course.”
The man bought the 15,000-won cold noodles and slurped them down at the Mountain Peak before leaving.
Calling them the best cold noodles of his life.
As I descended the mountain, I picked up my phone again.
“Boss, I’d like to place an order for ice cream.”
– How many?
“Tomorrow, I’m thinking of going for 1,000 units.”
– Well, never mind that. Let me give you a phone number instead. Call them directly.
“Who are they?”
– Someone who wholesales ice cream. We get our stock from them too. But even for us, ordering 1,000 units at a time is tough, so we usually take 500. Today we’re short 500 units, which makes the shop look completely bare. Imagine how bad it would be with 1,000.
Now that I thought about it, that made sense.
When I picked up the 500 units Manager Kim had prepared, the freezer looked noticeably empty.
“Is that so?”
– Yeah. But can you actually sell 1,000 units?
“People seem to buy a lot because of the heat.”
– We can’t even sell 500 a day at our shop. That’s impressive.
“Would you sell them on the mountain too, Manager?”
– Are you crazy? If you carry all that up the mountain, you’ll end up spending more on hospital bills.
“Then please send me the number.”
– Sure. I’ll text it to you.
I received the text, made a call, and then headed to the Wholesale Market.
The Wholesale Market wasn’t far from the Unattended Ice Cream Shop I frequented.
It wasn’t far from home either.
“Hello. This is Gong In-bae, the one who called earlier.”
I greeted the Grandfather, who was sitting in a chair wearing hiking clothes and leisurely fanning himself.
The Grandfather looked at me with curious eyes and asked a question.
“So you’re the one selling a thousand ice creams a day?”
“Not exactly, but I’m planning to try. I’m working on it.”
“I like your recklessness. Can you carry them up the mountain?”
“My friends help me.”
“You’ve got reckless friends?”
“They’re good friends.”
Even if they only exist in my imagination.
“Manager Kim sold them to you at 500 won each?”
“Yes.”
“Since I’m a wholesaler, I should give you a better price, but my margins aren’t that different. I’d like to give them at 400 won, but I can’t. I’ll do 450 won instead. In exchange, you can use my freezer storage here if you want. I hear you’re selling bottled water too.”
“Really? Thank you so much.”
“You’re still a student, I hear. Work hard. Then you’ll have something left over.”
“Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
I went into the freezer storage the Grandfather told me I could use.
The moment I opened the door and stepped inside, my body trembled from the intense cold.
The thermometer read -20 degrees.
The freezer was about 10 pyeong in size.
I only needed one pyeong.
All I had to do was freeze bottled water.
After saying goodbye to the Wholesale Owner, I went to buy kimbap.
This time, 50 rolls.
I pretended to pack items directly into my bag as I made them, but actually stored everything in my inventory.
I had to place items in my inventory immediately to preserve the warmth of the freshly made kimbap.
I also visited the cold noodle restaurant.
I asked if they could make a cup of cold noodles with the portion reduced to one-third, and the owner readily agreed.
They even added an egg on top.
Now I had both water-based and spicy cold noodles prepared.
I returned home, washed up lightly, and settled my accounts.
After selling 500 ice creams, I had 1 million won left.
Selling kimbap, cold noodles, bottled water, and beverages brought in roughly another 300,000 won.
I earned 1.3 million won in a single day.
On the first day, I only made 200,000 won.
I thought that was incredible at the time, but today it’s 1.3 million won.
Tomorrow I’ll have even more inventory. I can hardly wait.
The next day
I brought a thousand ice creams and frozen bottled water.
I climbed the mountain with kimbap and cold noodles in tow.
I set up the table with practiced ease and placed the cooler on top.
As soon as I put up the sign, people began to gather.
“Is this the place? The cold noodle specialty shop?”
“I heard the kimbap is delicious?”
“Boss, is this the Instagram-worthy restaurant?”
Instagram-worthy? What’s that supposed to mean?
Seeing my confused expression, someone tapped their phone a few times and showed me the screen.
It displayed an image of someone eating cold noodles at the peak of Bukhansan Mountain, and it looked genuinely romantic.
It must have been that older man from yesterday who called it the noodles of his life.
“I’ll have cold noodles, sir.”
You’re older than me, you bastard.
“That’s 10,000 won. By the way, the portion is a bit smaller than yesterday. You mentioned yesterday’s was too much.”
“Even better. I didn’t come here just to eat cold noodles. I came for the romance.”
Is he a YouTuber?
He set up a camera and spent a long time adjusting
the angles and composition while continuously eating the cold noodles.
Why does he eat so deliciously?
Now I want some too.
“I heard the kimbap here is incredible.”
The kimbap sold well too.
Actually, the ice cream and bottled water moved slower than expected.
Well, “slower” might not be the right word.
The ice cream and water were more of a casual thing—people grabbing one to cool off as they passed by.
The cold noodle and kimbap customers seemed to have come with the intention of eating these from the start.
People arrived drenched in sweat, their faces nearly ecstatic as they downed a cup of instant noodles.
And why did they insist on taking verification photos every single time they ate?
I’d prepared fifty kimbap rolls and fifty servings of cold noodles, which sold out first.
After that, I only sold ice cream before heading back down.
I didn’t manage to sell all one thousand units.
By around four o’clock, it seemed no more customers would arrive, so I descended.
But the next day, I ordered another thousand ice creams.
It was the weekend.
Since it was the weekend, I ordered a bit more generously.
Besides, the ice cream stored in my inventory wouldn’t melt anyway, so it didn’t matter.
I prepared one hundred servings each of cold noodles and kimbap.
The next day.
Bukhansan Mountain on the weekend.
Wow—completely different from a weekday.
Even at the peak, it was crowded.
Though I arrived at eight-thirty, there were already many people at the summit.
The moment I set up my table, people swarmed toward me.
Back off—
If they crowded like this, I couldn’t retrieve items from my inventory.
How shocked would they be if an ice box suddenly appeared from thin air?
I brought the ice box as if I’d retrieved it from a hiding spot in the corner.
I placed the ice box on the table,
and hung my hastily scrawled sign—my identity, so to speak.
I began business for the day.
“Are you selling now? I nearly died waiting in this heat. Give me a cup of instant noodles.”
Of course. Right away.
“Me too, please. Can I get cold noodles without broth?”
“Absolutely. This comes with sauce and broth included. It tastes wonderful if you add just a bit of broth. Please enjoy.”
“Oh—you’re quite the businessman.”
“Thank you. Please bring your trash over here. We must protect the environment.”
“Of course.”
“I’d like some kimbap. I heard the kimbap here is delicious?”
“It certainly is—homemade kimbap, just like what you’d make at home.”
“Hahaha.”
“Actually, it comes from a kimbap artisan with fifty years of experience.”
“Really? No wonder it tastes so good.”
“Enjoy. Would you like some pickled radish as well?”
“No, that’s fine.”
How would I know who actually makes the kimbap?
I just said it because the shop owner looked to be in his fifties.
Still, seeing you eat so heartily fills me with satisfaction.
Customers line up to buy cold noodles and kimbap.
Curious about what’s happening, I ask.
“This place has been totally hot on Instagram lately. The whole ‘Bukhansan Mountain cold noodle aesthetic’ thing, you know? I’ll have one cold noodle bowl too. Water-based broth, please.”
“Of course. Here you go. The vinegar and mustard are right here.”
“Wow, but eating it here is seriously so refreshing and delicious. How does the shaved ice stay frozen like this at this hour? Even at dedicated cold noodle restaurants, it’s not this good. The noodles themselves are still perfectly firm. This place is a real cold noodle gem.”
“Thank you for enjoying it. We source the broth from a famous restaurant.”
“Really?”
The power of quality cold noodle broth truly is remarkable.
Everyone who tastes it gives it a thumbs up.
The owner pours the cold noodle broth by the bagful.
“Don’t you have makgeolli?”
Here come the makgeolli drinkers again.
Two elderly gentlemen are looking for makgeolli.
Gentlemen, it’s 9:30 in the morning.
Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?
“I’m sorry. Drinking on the mountain is dangerous, so we don’t sell makgeolli.”
“One glass doesn’t even touch the liver.”
“I apologize.”
“Tsk.”
The elderly man, clearly displeased, mutters something disagreeable and leaves.
Honestly, I could sell makgeolli if I wanted to.
The profit margin is good.
But there’s a reason I don’t.
The makgeolli drinkers showed up yesterday too.
They pestered me so much that I gave them a bottle of makgeolli and one pajeon.
I even set up a table and chairs for their convenience, and they sat there chattering for two hours straight.
Thank goodness I cleaned up the bottle afterward.
If other customers had seen it, they would’ve demanded the same thing relentlessly.
With them sitting right next to me and talking for two hours, my head was spinning.
And their demands—why are there so many?
Don’t you have soy sauce?
Don’t you have red pepper?
Don’t you have broth to dip it in?
Don’t you have kimchi?
I want young radish kimchi.
I can’t even get young radish kimchi for myself.
Please, let’s be reasonable about this.
Anyway, after a full day of relentless business, I’ve sold out everything.
Cold noodles and kimbap were completely sold out before 1 PM.
I sold through 1,300 ice creams, including what was left over from yesterday.
Weekends are truly terrifying in their potential.
After deducting material costs, my net profit exceeded 200.
I wish every day could be a weekend.

—————

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

—————