I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

"Come on, Werner, you can drop the act." Fritz pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. "This is the compensation Joseph owed you before he was caught. Three thousand Marks in total. And this." He pulled out a small notebook. "Joseph’s client list. Contact information for all the buyers is in here."

Werner took the money and the notebook, flipping through it casually.

The client list was more detailed than he had imagined—the owner of a photo studio, an underground printing press, a handmade leather workshop, and even purchasing agents from several state-owned factories.

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because you’re capable," Fritz said sincerely. "Joseph was at it for five years and ended up in the hands of the Stasi. You took him down with a borrowed knife and walked away clean. We’d have peace of mind following you."

Keller grinned smugly from the side. "Of course! Our boss is..."

"Keller," Werner cut him off, then turned to Fritz. "I can take you on, but I have conditions."

"Name them."

"First, all our sources must be legitimized. We don’t touch dangerous military-grade chemicals, and we don’t touch high-risk, politically sensitive items. We’ll specialize in civilian industrial goods and daily necessities."

Fritz nodded. "No problem."

"Second, we establish a strict security system. Rotating shifts, changing warehouses regularly, and never storing goods in the same place for more than a month."

"Understood."

"Third, and most importantly." Werner stood up and scanned everyone present. "We can’t be smugglers forever. We’re going to be businessmen. Legitimate, protected businessmen with connections."

Hank asked, confused, "Is there a difference?"

"A huge difference," Werner explained. "Smugglers can only crawl around in the gutter, constantly worried about getting caught. But businessmen are different. Businessmen can negotiate deals out in the open, cooperate with government departments, and build a long-term enterprise."

Fritz’s eyes lit up. "You mean... we’re going legit?"

"You could put it that way," Werner said. "We need to build a complete commercial network: sources, warehouses, sales channels, and government connections. That’s the only way a business like this can grow big and strong."

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

「That night, at the Red Bull tavern in East Berlin.」

Werner pushed open the door to the tavern. The air inside was thick with smoke, reeking of tobacco and alcohol.

Dozens of wooden tables were packed to capacity. Workers in blue overalls held mugs of beer, chatting loudly. A poster on the wall read, "Unity is Strength," but it looked faded and mottled in the dim light.

"Werner!" The bartender waved him over. "Saved your usual spot for you."

Werner walked to the corner table, which offered a wide view, making it easy to observe the entire tavern.

He ordered a beer and waited quietly.

In less than ten minutes, a few familiar faces appeared one after another. First was Rat, who dealt in cigarettes; then the twin brothers who peddled military supplies; followed by Nick, who specialized in acquiring Western cosmetics.

These men had all been Werner’s competitors, but after hearing the news of the downfall of Joseph the Mole, every one of them had become exceptionally cautious.

"Gentlemen, have a seat." Werner raised his glass. "A moment of silence for Joseph. Three seconds."

The men exchanged glances but still lowered their heads symbolically. Three seconds later, Werner put down his glass.

"You all know what happened to Joseph." He looked around at the group. "The Stasi is especially sensitive about smuggling activities right now. I’d like to ask you all, what are your plans moving forward?"

Rat was a scrawny, middle-aged man who specialized in reselling Western cigarettes. He was anxiously wringing his hands. "Brother Werner, you’re the expert. Show us the way."

"The path is right at your feet," Werner said lightly. "The question is which path you want to take."

"What do you mean?" asked the elder of the twin brothers.

Werner set down his glass, his expression turning serious. "I’ve just come from the Stasi. Comrade Vonke had a talk with me."

The color drained from everyone’s faces instantly. In East Germany, being "talked to" by the Stasi was usually not a good thing.

"Don’t be nervous." Werner waved his hand. "I went voluntarily. I reported some things to the organization and am now a special collaborator for Comrade Vonke."

"A special collaborator?" Nick’s eyes went wide. "You became a Stasi informant?"

"A collaborator," Werner corrected. "You should all understand what that means."

The tavern fell silent. Everyone was processing the stunning news—not only had Werner not been arrested by the Stasi, he had become an official collaborator.

"Brother Werner, does this mean you’re drawing a line between us?" Rat asked cautiously.

"Quite the opposite." Werner smiled. "I want to invite you all to cooperate with me. But we’ll have to do it by my rules."

"What rules?"

"First, cease all dealing in dangerous goods immediately. Military supplies, hazardous chemicals, politically sensitive books—we don’t touch any of it anymore."

The elder twin frowned. "Then what do we do?"

"We do legitimate business," Werner explained. "Daily necessities, crafts, luxury goods—these things are in high demand and low risk."

"What about the profit?" Nick asked, concerned.

"With me here, the profits won’t be small," Werner said with confidence. "I have official protection now, which gives me access to more resources. Plus, we can establish legitimate business channels."

Rat ventured, "You mean, we all work for you?"

"Not work for me, cooperate with me," Werner stressed. "I’ll handle coordinating resources and government relations. You’ll each be responsible for your areas of expertise. We divide the labor and share the profits."

"Sounds good," said the younger of the twin brothers. "But why should we trust you?"

Werner didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled a document from his pocket and placed it on the table. "This is the Stasi’s internal wanted list. The Fisher Brothers, the Mueller gang, and William Claus."

The men leaned in for a closer look, and their faces turned deathly pale. These were all well-known figures in the East Berlin Black Market, and now all of them were on the Stasi’s blacklist.

"I’m the one who provided this list," Werner said calmly. "They went too far. Military supplies, hazardous chemicals, and contact with Western Spies—all of it crossed the line of national security."

Nick’s voice trembled as he asked, "Then... what about us... will we also..."

"No." Werner put the document away. "Because you’re all smart. You know what to do and what not to do. And now, you have a protector."

Rat swallowed hard. "Brother Werner, from this day on, we’ll listen to you."

"Us too," the twin brothers said in unison.

"Me too," Nick quickly declared.

Werner nodded in satisfaction and raised his glass. "Then, a toast to our new partnership!"

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

「Late night, at the abandoned textile factory.」

Werner sat alone in the basement, a thick ledger spread out before him. This was his newly organized list of assets:

Cash: 15,000 Marks

Inventory: Approximately 37,000 Marks worth of various goods

Connections: Stasi collaborator status, Church charity channels, multiple sales outlets

Team: Keller (personal assistant), Hank (military factory supplier), Fritz (sales manager)

More importantly, he now held the entire East Berlin Black Market in the palm of his hand. His former rivals were now all part of his commercial network.

[System Notification: Congratulations, Host, on successfully consolidating the resources of the East Berlin Black Market.]

[Current Influence Level: Regional Overlord.]

[Reward: Increased intelligence clarity.]

Werner looked at the system notification, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. From a looked-down-upon peddler to a new underground power who could leverage the Stasi, he had done it all in just three months.

But this was just the beginning. The real challenge lay ahead—how to protect and expand his interests during the upcoming construction of the Berlin Wall.

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

「The next morning, at the abandoned textile factory.」

Werner had just gotten out of bed when Keller rushed in, carrying an exquisite wooden box.

"Boss, someone dropped something off at the door," Keller said, panting. "They said it’s a congratulatory gift from Boss Krupp."

Werner narrowed his eyes.

Heinrich Krupp, the true boss of the East Berlin Black Market. An old fox who’d been in the business for twenty years.

After Joseph was arrested, everyone had been waiting to see what Krupp’s reaction would be.

"Open it. Let’s see."