I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

A thought sparked in Werner’s mind.

He recalled from his predecessor’s memories that East Germany did indeed have some special stores, which catered exclusively to foreign tourists and people with special status.

Those stores carried coffee, chocolate, Western daily necessities, and other things that couldn’t be bought in ordinary state-run shops.

"Can you tell me more?" Werner asked, curious.

Eva glanced around, and after confirming no one was paying attention, she whispered, "They sell coffee, cigarettes, chocolate, and some Western daily goods. But... but you can’t buy those things with regular Marks. You need special vouchers."

Werner’s eyes lit up.

He realized this might be the only place where East German residents could legally buy Western goods. If he could get access to this system, the business opportunities would be immense.

Moreover, the Berlin Wall would be built in just a few months. After that, smuggling things from West Germany to East Germany would undoubtedly become more difficult. If he could establish a connection through these "special stores" beforehand, sourcing his goods would be much easier.

"That sounds very interesting," Werner said. "I’d love to go see it if I get the chance."

Eva seemed a little nervous. "Ordinary people can’t get into a place like that, and... and I’m just a regular employee. I don’t have any authority."

"It’s alright, I’m just curious," Werner said with a gentle smile. "If it’s convenient, perhaps you could take me to see it?"

Eva hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. "If... if you really want to see it, I can try to figure something out. But you have to promise not to cause any trouble."

"Of course," Werner nodded solemnly. "I promise."

It was finally their turn to buy bread. Eva took out her bread ration tickets and a few coins, buying two dark-looking loaves. Werner bought one as well and took a bite. It was bitter, hard to swallow, and had almost no nutritional value.

"This is our daily life," Eva said with a wry smile. "A 200-gram ration of bread each day, and we still have to wait in line for two hours."

After leaving the bakery, Eva, holding her child, prepared to leave. "Thank you for your help today. As for that special store... I’ll think about it and give you an answer in a few days."

"Alright, I’ll wait for your news," Werner said. "By the way, where do you live? How can I contact you?"

Eva gave Werner her address, which was in an old apartment building a few streets away.

Watching Eva’s retreating figure, Werner’s heart filled with anticipation. If he could really gain access to that special store system, his business would reach a whole new level.

As the sun set, the streets of East Berlin were bathed in a dim, yellow light. Werner stood at a street corner, looking at this city on the brink of enormous change, secretly plotting his next move.

’Saving Eva today might bring an unexpected reward.’

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

「A few days later.」

Eva Honer and Werner stood before an unremarkable glass door. A simple paper sign was taped to it: "Foreign Trade Store."

This was the "special store" Eva had mentioned.

Out of caution, and also because she didn’t fully trust her colleagues, Eva had brought Werner not to the store where she worked, but to a different one.

Eva gently pushed open the glass door. Werner followed her inside, and the moment he stepped across the threshold, the sight before him left him speechless.

"My God..." he subconsciously held his breath.

The shelves were packed full of Western goods: Nestle coffee, Marlboro cigarettes, Coca-Cola, and even Japanese Sanyo radios.

Every item was exquisitely packaged in clear plastic, glistening under the dim lights like treasures from another world.

"Don’t look so gobsmacked," Eva whispered, her eyes scanning their surroundings warily. "It’s not a good thing to look too shocked in here."

A clerk in a blue work uniform approached, wearing a professionally detached smile. "What can I get for you two? Please show me your foreign exchange certificates."

Eva pulled a few bills with special markings from her bag. The words "Foreign Exchange Certificate" were printed on them.

Werner squinted, observing them closely. ’These foreign exchange certificates... they look much more refined than East German Marks. The paper is thick, and the printing is sharp.’

"I’d like to see that can of Nestle coffee," Eva said, pointing to a high shelf.

The clerk deftly retrieved the coffee can and placed it on the counter. "Five foreign exchange certificates."

Werner did a quick calculation in his head. At the Black Market exchange rate, five foreign exchange certificates were equivalent to 30 to 50 East German Marks. Meanwhile, the same weight of inferior coffee beans would only cost 6 East German Marks at a state-run store—assuming you could even find any.

"That’s too expensive," he couldn’t help but mutter.

The clerk shot him a cold glance. "Sir, if you don’t have any foreign exchange certificates, I suggest you go wait in line at a state-run store. They have coffee substitute there, made from barley and chicory root."

Eva gently tapped Werner’s arm, signaling him to keep quiet.

She expertly counted out five certificates and exchanged them for the can of coffee.

Walking out of the store, Werner’s mind was still processing everything he had just seen.

The streets of East Berlin were still cold in February, but a fire of excitement was burning inside him.

"Now you understand, don’t you?" Eva said, stuffing the coffee can into her cloth tote bag. "This is the difference between two worlds."

Across the street, a few Western tourists were getting out of a Mercedes-Benz sedan.

The men wore thick wool coats, the women fashionable silk scarves. They were speaking German, but with a distinct West German accent.

They walked toward the foreign exchange store, their movements casual and relaxed, as if the goods inside were nothing more than everyday items to them.

"See?" Eva’s voice held a trace of bitterness. "To them, five foreign exchange certificates might just be the cost of lunch. But for us..." She paused. "For us, that’s nearly half a month’s salary."

Suddenly, the system’s voice sounded in Werner’s mind.

[Ding! System Prompt: Important commercial intelligence detected]

[This type of store will undergo significant changes within 12 months. Close monitoring is advised.]

[Prediction: These stores will become a crucial hub for the circulation of goods between East and West Germany.]

Werner stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed slightly.

Although the system often gave vague intelligence, it never gave advice for no reason. Since it had made a special point of alerting him, it meant there was a bigger story behind these seemingly ordinary foreign trade stores.

He pretended to straighten his clothes, but in his mind, he was trying to ask the system, ’What specific changes will happen?’

[Insufficient information. Unable to provide a detailed forecast.]

[Recommendation: Gather more relevant intelligence.]

’Tch, useless when it counts,’ Werner grumbled to himself, but he immediately began to search his memories from his past life.

’Foreign trade stores... only selling Western goods... requiring special currency...’

Suddenly, an idea surfaced from the depths of his memory.