I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Werner immediately saw the value of this route.

In East Germany, any commercial activity required carefully toeing the line of the law.

The state held a monopoly on nearly all commerce, but religious charity was one of the few areas with relatively lax oversight.

Werner realized the true value of this route lay in more than just the goods themselves.

The Berlin Wall would be built in a few months. By then, any existing line of communication would be priceless.

If he could establish a stable, two-way network under the cover of religious charity, Werner could unlock the route’s immense potential.

First, he could slip some Western items into the regular charity shipments.

Books that were commonplace in the West—works of literature, science magazines—along with popular music records, radios, small recording devices, and even basic electronics like flashlights, calculators, and precision instruments, could all fetch a high price on the Black Market.

And when the empty charity trucks returned to West Germany, Werner could use the return trip to smuggle some East German goods across the border.

But most important of all was the transfer of information.

When the wall went up in a few months, any channel capable of crossing between East and West Germany would be priceless.

Important intelligence, contact information, and even people trying to escape could be shuttled between East and West Germany through this seemingly simple charity route.

If he could control this charity route, Werner would have a "semi-legal" smuggling operation.

The relief supplies from West Germany—canned food, medicine, clothing, coffee—were indeed more popular than the Mark in resource-scarce East Germany.

But to Werner, they were more like a "pass"—the legitimate front that would allow this clandestine channel to operate continuously.

He had no intention of embezzling the charity supplies. His goal was to control the transport line itself, which could become critically important in the future.

When the Berlin Wall went up, this route was bound to play a significant role. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Priest Weber didn’t object to Werner asking about and getting involved with the charity transport line.

The clergyman, in his fifties, always wore a faded black robe. His eyes were as gentle as a lamb’s, and he spoke in a soft whisper. From his perspective, it didn’t matter who handled the relief supplies, as long as they truly reached those in need.

The problem, however, was a mid-level cadre named Otto Braun.

"Comrade Werner, charity supplies aren’t something just anyone can get their hands on," Otto had said, patting his large belly, his eyes glinting with greed. "If you want in, you have to play by the rules."

Otto was a typical mid-level East German parasite: in his early forties, bald, pot-bellied, and always dressed in a uniform scrubbed shiny but worn thin.

He was in charge of overseeing the distribution of relief supplies. Outwardly, he was a loyal cadre of the Social Unity Party; privately, he treated state property as his personal piggy bank.

The so-called "rules" meant that Otto had to be given a thirty-percent cut of every shipment as a "management fee."

While Werner was dealing with Otto’s extortion, he was also facing a more urgent threat.

Two days ago, Stasi agent Vonke had paid him another "visit."

The cold-faced, middle-aged man had sat at the wooden table, his scrutinizing gaze sweeping over every item in the apartment as he asked a barrage of seemingly casual questions.

"Comrade Werner, life been treating you well lately?"

"It’s fine. I get by."

"Have your friends sent you anything else?"

"Just a few things now and then. Cheap, everyday stuff."

"Has anyone approached you to discuss any... special topics?"

Every question was a baited hook, an attempt to fish something out of him.

Werner had maintained a perfectly innocent expression, but he knew full well: ’I’m on the Stasi’s radar.’

Now, sitting there, Werner’s mind raced.

He needed a perfect solution: one that would dispel the Stasi’s suspicion and clear the obstacle in his business, and ideally, even allow him to earn credit with Vonke and demonstrate his loyalty.

And Otto was the perfect target.

Werner stood up and took the Leica camera Reynard had lent him from a drawer.

This German-made precision instrument felt heavy in his hands.

The plan was simple: capture evidence of Otto’s corruption and report it to Vonke. Kill two birds with one stone. He would remove a business obstacle and earn credit with Vonke, proving he was on the side of "justice."

「That afternoon, in the Church’s backyard.」

Werner was lying prone behind the window of the Church’s backyard storeroom, his camera lens aimed at the activity area outside.

Today was the distribution day for a new batch of relief supplies from West Germany, and Otto was directing his little team.

April in East Germany was still chilly, but Otto was sweating profusely.

He was wearing his signature gray uniform, lording over his little kingdom like a greedy tyrant.

"Remember, take out the antibiotics first. That stuff’s the most valuable," Otto said, expertly stuffing medicine into his own canvas bag. "Leave half the vitamins and canned goods. The rest can go to those poor bastards."

His men moved with practiced ease; they had clearly done this many times before. One scrawny lackey had even brought a scale, specifically to weigh items and pack the heaviest ones for himself.

CLICK. Werner pressed the shutter, capturing the scene.

"Boss Otto, what about that new guy, Werner?" the scrawny subordinate asked, pausing his work with a worried look. "He seems to want in on our business."

Otto sneered, his chubby face filled with contempt. "Some wet-behind-the-ears kid smuggles a little coffee and some cigarettes and thinks he’s a big shot? He’s just a small-time Black Market peddler with no backing."

He patted the party pin on his chest with a smug look. "I’ve already dropped a word to the Stasi. Told them the kid’s acting suspiciously, maybe involved in some subversive activities. Let him stew for a few days. We’ll see if he still has the guts to fight me for scraps."

"Brilliant, Boss!" his underlings immediately chimed in.

"Comrade Vonke of the Stasi and I go way back," Otto said, growing more conceited by the second, completely oblivious to the camera lens aimed at him from a nearby window. "A small fry like Werner? One word from me, and I can have him locked up for a good ten, fifteen days."

When Werner heard this, his finger froze on the shutter.

’So it was this fat pig who stabbed me in the back! No wonder Vonke paid me another visit.’

"Excellent," Werner’s voice was a whisper only he could hear, but his tone was ice-cold. "Then you’ve left me no choice."

He pressed the shutter again and again, capturing the entire process of Otto and his gang dividing their spoils. Every single photograph was damning evidence, enough to land the greedy parasite in prison for years.

「The next morning, the Stasi’s East Berlin branch.」

The Stasi Headquarters was on Magdeburg Street in East Berlin. It was a gray, blocky building that looked as grim as a prison. As Werner walked through the main gate, he felt the stares of every sculpted eye on the walls.

The air in the waiting room was suffocatingly tense.

Several men in sharp suits sat on hard chairs, their faces set in standard bureaucratic masks—indifferent, alert, and perpetually ready to pass judgment.

Werner clutched the manila envelope full of photographs. He appeared calm, but inside, he was rapidly rehearsing the conversation to come.

"Comrade Betelich, come in," Vonke’s voice called from within the office.