I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

In a watch shop, Werner spent fifty West Germany Marks on a decent-looking watch.

It had a simple white face and a brown leather strap. While not from any famous brand, it would definitely be considered a luxury item in East Germany.

The clerk, a young German woman, explained as she boxed it up, "This was made in West Germany. The movement is very precise, and it comes with a one-year warranty."

Werner thanked her and tucked the beautifully wrapped watch box inside his coat.

On the way back to East Berlin, his mind kept returning to the conversation he’d just had.

The Swiss coffee machines were indeed a good business opportunity—high profits, high demand, and few competitors. The only problem was transportation.

But Werner already had a plan.

At half-past seven that evening, Werner showed up at the Alexanderplatz Subway Station right on schedule. He had used the patrol timetable he bought from Andrew to calculate the exact time of Matthias’s patrol.

Mathias Bauer was on his routine patrol.

Werner deliberately slowed his pace, allowing Matthias to spot him.

"Hey, Werner!" Matthias spotted Werner and walked over with a friendly smile. "Did you go to West Berlin today?"

"Yeah, taking care of a little business," Werner said, pulling the elegant box from his coat. "And I brought you a little something."

Matthias took the box and opened it gingerly.

A childlike grin spread across his face when he saw the brand-new watch. "It’s beautiful! Is it really made in West Germany?"

"The real deal," Werner nodded. "Excellent quality, and it keeps perfect time."

Matthias admired the watch, unable to put it down. Then he said, a bit sheepishly, "How much does this cost? I told you I’d pay."

"Not expensive. Ten Marks is enough," Werner said gently. "We’re friends, after all."

Matthias immediately pulled the money from his pocket. "Ten Marks, right? Here you go."

Werner took the money, inwardly satisfied.

This young man was sensible. He knew to "pay."

Werner knew that Matthias understood perfectly well that ten Marks could never buy such an exquisite watch from West Germany. But they both left it unsaid, a tacit understanding between them.

This tacit understanding made Werner all the more certain that Matthias was someone he could work with—a man with principles, yet flexible. The ideal "border partner."

"Thank you, Werner," Matthias said, putting on the new watch and looking at it again and again. "I’ve never had such a nice watch before. My parents will be so happy when they see it. They’ve always been proud of me for this job, saying border police get to see all the nice things. Now, I have a decent watch of my own."

"Don’t mention it, we’re friends," Werner said, patting his shoulder. "We can help each other out from now on."

Matthias nodded, then lowered his voice. "Werner, if you have any... special needs, when it comes to the border checks, you can come to me. Between friends, I can turn a blind eye."

Werner feigned surprise. "How could I ask that of you? I can’t have you breaking regulations."

"It’s not breaking regulations," Matthias whispered. "It’s flexible enforcement. Some things absolutely need a thorough check, but for others... like a friend’s personal belongings, there’s no need to be so rigid."

"Well, thank you in that case," Werner said, shaking his hand. "But you must be careful. Please don’t get into any trouble because of me."

"I won’t. I know my limits," Matthias said confidently, patting his chest.

********************

Back home, Werner sat at a small table and began to seriously analyze the day’s harvest.

The more he thought about the business opportunity with the Swiss coffee machines, the more excited he became.

First, there was the clear technological advantage.

Built-in grinders, precise temperature control, automatic brewing, and steam wands for frothing milk—compared to these features, the coffee makers produced in East Germany were little more than electric kettles with filters. They weren’t even in the same league.

Second, the target clientele was clear.

Officials, military officers, heads of state-owned enterprises, Black Market kingpins—these people had money, a desire for taste, and more importantly, a need to display their status. Making coffee for guests with a Swiss machine was an undeniable symbol of status and financial power.

Third, the profit margin was enormous.

The purchase cost was 350 West Germany Marks (approximately 1,400 East Germany Marks), and he conservatively estimated it could sell for 5,000 Marks, a gross profit of over 250%. And that was just the profit from a single coffee machine.

Once these customers purchased a coffee machine, he would have established a valuable network of relationships.

He also had Western magazines and radios. These "scarce goods" were hard to connect with the right buyers on the Black Market, but now he could market them directly to this group of "premium clients" who had already proven their purchasing power and taste.

These clients were the prime target demographic for high-end West German goods, allowing him to form a private sales network built on mutual trust.

Most importantly, this business had the potential to be a monopoly.

Not just anyone could get their hands on such high-end Western goods.

It required three elements: a stable, reliable supply channel from West Germany; a safe, covert method of transport; and a targeted network of high-end clients.

All three were indispensable. If any link in the chain broke, the entire venture would collapse. This created a natural barrier to entry, keeping most potential competitors out of the game.

And now, Werner had already secured two of them: Reynard would provide the goods from West Germany, and Matthias would guarantee safe transport across the border.

As for the client network, he could gradually expand it through his existing contacts:

The families of high-ranking officials like Mrs. Schmidt, the other members of the privileged class Eva encountered at the international store, and Black Market bosses like Fatty Wolf who controlled resources—they were all potential high-value clients, and each of them represented an entire circle of consumers.

If he could get this supply chain fully established, his wealth would take a quantum leap in less than six months.

The Berlin Wall hadn’t been built yet. Now was the perfect time to seize the initiative.

Once policies tightened, these channels and client relationships would become priceless.

At that moment, the system’s voice rang out in Werner’s mind:

[New Business Opportunity Discovered. Reward: 20 Experience Points]

Werner smiled, satisfied.

***********************

「One week later.」

Werner Betelich walked out of Reynard’s warehouse, carrying a heavy suitcase.

Inside the case was the Swiss coffee machine Reynard had gotten for him, along with a stack of Western fashion magazines. Berlin was still cold in March, and the white clouds of his breath condensed in the air before vanishing.

The streets of West Berlin always struck him.

Shop windows overflowed with a dazzling array of goods, and people dressed far more fashionably than in East Berlin. A young woman in a bright red coat walked past, her stiletto heels clicking sharply on the cobblestone street. Such an outfit was virtually unseen in East Berlin.

But for now, he had to get back to East Berlin.

As he walked out of the Alexanderplatz Subway Station, Werner’s heart began to pound.

This was the most dangerous part—getting through the border check with a large case full of "suspicious items."

In the distance, he spotted a familiar figure—Mathias Bauer was on duty today.

He had consulted the patrol schedule and specifically chosen this day to go to West Berlin for the express purpose of running into Matthias.

Matthias wore his standard dark-green uniform, the red insignia on his shoulder glinting under the lights. He was standing at the inspection counter with an older colleague, chatting about something.

Werner took a deep breath, trying to look as natural as possible as he carried the case forward. It was heavy, forcing him to switch hands from time to time, which he knew only made him look more suspicious.

"Halt!"