I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

The Black Market dealers at the surrounding tables all looked over, their eyes filled with awe and curiosity.

"Oh?" Werner took a light sip of his beer, his expression as calm as a placid lake. "When did this happen?"

"Just this afternoon!" Keller lowered his voice, but he couldn’t hide his excitement. "The Stasi sent a dozen or so men and rounded them all up at once!"

A middle-aged man with a small mustache at the next table turned around. "Are you sure your information is accurate, son?"

"It’s the gospel truth!" Keller slapped his chest. "I have a friend who works as a janitor at Stasi Headquarters. He saw them bring Joseph in with his own eyes. Handcuffs, leg irons, and a special transport vehicle."

The tavern instantly fell silent. Everyone realized what this meant.

Joseph was a new rising power in the East Berlin Black Market. With a dozen or so men under him, he controlled the majority of the trade in chemicals and industrial raw materials. His fall would completely change the power structure of the entire Black Market.

"So what now?" someone asked. "Joseph’s territory is up for grabs. Who’s going to take over?"

Without exception, all eyes turned to Werner.

This young man, a nobody just a few months ago, had now become the most mysterious and powerful figure in the Black Market.

His keen intelligence-gathering abilities and his gift for precise market forecasting were so uncanny it was as if he had a third eye. His methods for handling crises were even more masterful, leaving these old veterans of the trade feeling inadequate.

Now, it seemed even the Stasi treated him differently. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Werner set down his beer mug and slowly stood up. The tavern was dead silent; everyone was waiting for him to speak.

"Gentlemen." His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone to hear. "Joseph’s situation teaches us something—this business isn’t run with fists and threats. It’s run with brains."

He scanned the room, his gaze calm yet carrying an undeniable authority. "The market needs a new order. It needs a more... rational method of management."

Werner paused deliberately, thoughtfully swirling the beer mug in his hand. "Of course, these are just some of my thoughts. As for how to achieve it, well, that will depend on everyone’s wisdom."

He gave everyone present a meaningful look, then added lightly, "I’ve always believed that people with vision will always find the right opportunities... and the right partners."

The man with the mustache swallowed hard. "Werner, my friend, we’ve all seen what you can do. But this business... it’s too risky. Joseph is a cautionary tale."

"I won’t repeat the mistakes Joseph made," Werner said coolly. "He was too greedy and would touch anything dangerous. I only focus on those... let’s say, goods with more ’social value.’ Safe business, with long-term demand, that meets certain standards."

He sat back down, picked up his beer mug, and lowered his voice even more. "Besides, I have friends in certain departments. Some conveniences are not available to everyone."

’Official connections?’ The crowd exchanged glances. Everyone knew exactly what that implied.

A young man in work clothes asked tentatively, "Boss Werner, are you saying... you have connections over there?"

Werner neither confirmed nor denied it, simply taking a small sip of beer. "It’s always good to have friends in all places, isn’t it? I can only say that if we choose the right partners, everyone’s lives will be much more stable."

This subtle implication was more powerful than a direct admission.

In East Germany, this kind of ambiguous statement was often more convincing than a clear declaration—people with real backing never advertised it.

The atmosphere in the tavern shifted subtly. No one declared their allegiance openly, but the exchanged glances and slight nods said it all.

A young man cleared his throat and said casually, "Werner, if you’re free sometime, I’d like to buy you a coffee and chat."

"I was just thinking of finding time to talk to you about the recent market trends," another person chimed in.

The man with the mustache mulled it over for a moment before finally speaking slowly, "Werner, it seems this line of work really does need some... new thinking." This statement was practically an admission that Werner would be the one to fill the void Joseph left behind.

Werner gave a nod of tacit understanding and said no more. He knew that in the coming days, more people would approach him on their own initiative. Some things didn’t need to be said in public; real business was always conducted in private.

Keller leaned close to Werner’s ear and whispered, "Boss, how did you manage the Stasi?"

Werner patted his shoulder. "Keller, it’s not good to know too much about some things. You just need to remember that if you follow me, you’ll be taken care of."

He stood up, ready to leave, but then remembered something. He sat back down and asked in a low voice, "Right, you had contact with Joseph’s crew before. Are any of his men capable and worth pulling over to our side?"

Keller thought for a moment, then replied in a whisper, "Fritz is pretty good, Boss. He was in charge of the buyers under Joseph. He’s very familiar with this business, knows which buyers have long-term needs, and which ones pay well and are reliable. But..."

He paused, looked around to make sure no one was listening, and then continued, "But I get the feeling he wasn’t unconditionally loyal to Joseph. That guy Joseph had a bad temper and was always ordering his men around. Fritz complained about it privately several times. He’s a pragmatist. With Joseph gone, I think we can definitely recruit him."

Werner nodded thoughtfully. "What about the supply side?"

"That would be Hank, Hank from the military factory," Keller whispered. "He works over in the chemical warehouse and has a way of getting his hands on some... extra stock. Joseph always had a good relationship with him, often buying him drinks. When the Stasi made the arrests, Hank apparently wasn’t there, so he wasn’t caught."

Something stirred in Werner’s mind.

’Hank... Now he’s a key figure. Control the source of the goods, and you control the lifeblood of this business.’

’If I can win Hank over too, I’ll have the entire supply chain under my control. And since Hank wasn’t arrested, it means he should be safe for now.’

"Was Fritz arrested?" Werner continued to ask.

"No, he got lucky. He happened to be out of town contacting a buyer when it happened. He’s probably in hiding now. I don’t know if Joseph ratted him out." Keller lowered his voice. "If Joseph sings like a canary to get a reduced sentence, then Fritz is in danger. But if not, maybe we can..."

"I understand," Werner cut him off. "Find a chance to contact Fritz, feel him out. And Hank, we need to find a way to contact him too. But be careful. Confirm they’re safe first. We need experienced hands, but we can’t take unnecessary risks."

"Understood, Boss!" Keller nodded forcefully.

As he walked out of the tavern, Werner glanced back at the crowd, still deep in heated discussion.

A few months ago, he was just a small-time peddler who got pushed around. Now, he had become the new king of the East Berlin Black Market.

The night wind swept through Friedrichstrasse, bringing a chill with it. In the distance, a train whistle blew—the last train arriving from West Berlin.

Werner knew that greater challenges lay ahead.

Joseph was just a minor player. The real opponent was Heinrich Krupp—the ultimate kingpin of the East Berlin Black Market.

But he was confident. In an era where information was money and connections were life, he possessed the greatest advantages: memories from the future, and a system that could predict trends.

More importantly, he had learned the rules of survival in this complex and dangerous world: never use brute force to solve a problem that can be solved with intelligence; never let your enemies know what you’re really thinking; and never believe that anyone’s loyalty is unconditional.

The Berlin Wall had not yet been built, but the city was already divided into countless small worlds by invisible walls. And he was becoming the most important bridge between them.