I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Werner put away the ledger and went to open the door.

Eva stood outside the door, a trace of worry on her face.

"Werner," Eva whispered, "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" Werner let her in and closed the door behind him.

"Someone’s been asking about you," Eva said, her voice a little tense. "Remember last time at my place, when Hans said someone from the city government was looking for me? It was a middle-aged man who claimed to be an old friend of yours. But I didn’t think he was."

Werner’s internal alarms went off. "What kind of person?"

"In his forties, with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a gray overcoat. His eyes were very sharp," Eva recalled. "He asked if I knew a Werner Betelich and said he wanted to buy some ’special goods’."

Werner’s expression turned serious.

The description made him think of one possibility—the Stasi.

"What did you say?" 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"I said I didn’t know you," Eva said. "But I don’t think he believed me. Werner, could it be..."

"It’s probably the Stasi," Werner said, voicing her fear directly. "It seems our business has attracted some attention."

The color drained from Eva’s face. "What do we do?"

Werner walked to the window and gazed at the gloomy sky outside.

In the distance, the smokestacks of East Berlin belched black smoke, and the entire city was shrouded in an oppressive atmosphere.

"Don’t panic," he said, turning back, his eyes glinting with a calm light. "Being noticed just means our business is successful enough. The key now is figuring out how to keep growing under their surveillance."

"But..."

"Eva," Werner said, taking her hand. "Trust me. This is both a crisis and an opportunity. If we can handle this situation cleverly, we might even be able to turn the Stasi into our protectors."

Eva looked at his determined gaze and gradually calmed down. "What’s your plan?"

"First, we need to be more careful," Werner began to analyze. "Second, we need to establish a legal cover as soon as possible. The foreign trade store where you work is the best cover we have."

He walked to the desk, took out a pen and paper, and began to sketch. "You work at a foreign trade store; that’s our biggest advantage. If we can acquire goods through legal channels and then sell them on the Black Market, we can significantly reduce the risk of getting caught."

"But the foreign exchange certificates..."

"We can get the certificates," Werner said confidently. "There are plenty of people on the Black Market willing to sell. The key is to control the supply channels and act before anyone else."

Just then, the sound of a car engine came from downstairs.

Werner went to the window and looked out. A black Waltzburg sedan was parked downstairs.

A man and a woman got out of the car.

"That’s him!" Eva recognized one of them.

Werner’s internal alarms went off.

’In East Germany, who else but the Stasi would be driving a government car and loitering in a residential area?’

"Eva," he said in a low voice. "Leave through the back door. Remember, you don’t know anything."

"What about you?"

"I’ll handle it. You go home for now. I’ll contact you after this blows over."

Eva glanced out the window and immediately understood the situation.

She hastily gathered her things. Before leaving, she squeezed Werner’s hand tightly. "Be careful."

After seeing Eva off, Werner immediately began checking his belongings.

He packed up and hid anything that could expose his identity. The ledger was stuffed into a hidden compartment behind the radiator.

Five minutes later, the expected knock came at the door.

"Open up! State Security inspection!"

Werner took a deep breath, straightened his clothes, and walked to the door.

Two Stasi agents stood outside. One was the middle-aged man Eva had described, with salt-and-pepper hair and sharp eyes. The other was a young woman holding a notebook.

"Werner Betelich?" the middle-aged agent asked.

"Yes, sir," Werner said, trying to look harmless. "Is there a problem?"

"I’m Inspector Vonke of the Stasi," the middle-aged man said, showing his identification. "We’ve received a report that you’re involved in illegal trade activities. We need to conduct a routine inspection."

Werner’s heart sped up, but he remained calm on the surface. "Of course. I’m a law-abiding citizen. I’ll cooperate fully with your inspection."

The two agents entered the room and began to search it carefully. The younger agent was responsible for rummaging for suspicious items, while Vonke silently observed Werner’s reaction.

"What is your job?" Vonke asked.

"I’m a technician at the Fifth Mechanical Plant," Werner replied. "I clock in and out on time every day. I never cause any trouble."

"What’s your income?"

"280 Marks a month."

Vonke nodded, but a flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes.

He noticed that although the small apartment was simple, there were some unusual details.

For example... the faint aroma of coffee lingering in the air. It was definitely not the smell of substitute coffee, but the rich scent of real Western coffee beans. It revealed that the owner of the apartment either was well-off or had special channels to obtain goods outside the rationing system.

"Where did you get the coffee?" Vonke asked, narrowing his eyes.

"A friend gave it to me," Werner said calmly. He realized that although he had put away the suspicious items, the smell in the room wouldn’t dissipate so quickly. "He works with the Soviet Army and can get his hands on some small things now and then."

"What’s this friend’s name?"

"Lorry Herman," Werner said, giving a name. It was a friend of this body’s original owner, a skinny bookworm who did odd jobs for the Soviet Army because he could speak Russian.

In East Germany, the Soviet Army were still the true masters of the land. They enjoyed privileges that East Germans couldn’t even dream of: special stores, priority passage, and even the East German police didn’t dare to provoke them easily.

The logistics department of the Soviet Army was particularly lucrative, with frequent access to Western goods outside the ration system.

Although Werner had such a connection, he had deliberately avoided contacting his original self’s friends after transmigrating, afraid of exposing his secret. But now, the name came in handy.

The young agent searched for half an hour but found no direct evidence. All the truly sensitive items had already been moved or hidden by Werner.

"Nothing of note so far," the young agent reported to Vonke.

Vonke didn’t speak, merely staring at Werner for a long time with that unsettling gaze.

Finally, he said slowly, "Comrade Betelich, remember—in our socialist state, everyone has a duty to report suspicious activities. If you know of any leads on illegal trade..."

"I’ll report it at the first opportunity, sir," Werner said.

Vonke nodded and turned to leave. At the door, he glanced back at Werner, his eyes holding a profound, unspoken meaning.

"We’ll be seeing each other again, Comrade Betelich."