I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Krupp did not answer immediately. He lifted his glass, slowly finishing the last of his whiskey.

"There’s no rush," he finally said. "I want to get a clear look first—to see just what this young man is capable of, what cards he’s holding, and where his weaknesses are."

"But Boss, our stock won’t last much longer—"

"It’s enough," Krupp cut him off, his tone still calm. "Koch, you need to remember that at the negotiating table, the more desperate party is always at a disadvantage. If I go knocking on his door now, the terms he offers will be highly unfavorable to us."

He stood up and walked to the window, his back to Koch. "I want him to come to me. Or, wait for the right moment and approach him as an equal."

Krupp knew full well that these high-minded words were, ultimately, just a way for him to save face.

Werner’s current situation was too abnormal—plentiful supply, stable channels. It all indicated that he must have started laying the groundwork before the Wall was built.

While everyone else never imagined a wall would be built, this young man had been quietly preparing.

The thought of such foresight, such ambition, was chilling.

Yet, Krupp refused to believe it.

’How could an operation like this not have a single flaw?’

’Supply source, transportation, network of contacts—any one of these links could have a problem.’

’No one can plug every single loophole, especially not some wet-behind-the-ears kid.’

’He has to slip up somewhere. He has to.’

’Then again, if there really is a weakness, why hasn’t anyone found it yet?’

Krupp gripped his glass tightly, feeling its coldness in his palm.

He didn’t want to admit it, but a voice in the back of his mind whispered: ’Maybe the problem isn’t Werner. Maybe I’m just getting old.’

The way this new era worked, the methods these young people used... perhaps it was all beyond his comprehension now. Decades of experience might not be enough to handle a situation this new.

The thought left him agitated and uneasy.

"So, Boss, what do we do now?"

"Keep looking for new channels," Krupp said, turning around with a sharp look in his eyes. "Don’t stop trying. The border, the train stations, the docks—check every possible place. At the same time, keep a close watch on Werner’s movements. Gather all the information you can on him."

"And another thing," he said, walking back to his desk and sitting down. "Keep the men steady. Tell them that things are difficult, but we’re not at a dead end. Tell them I’ve been in this business for decades. What haven’t I seen?"

Koch nodded. "I understand, Boss."

"Go on," Krupp waved his hand. "Leave me alone for a while."

After Koch left, Krupp poured himself another glass of whiskey. He held the glass, looking at the wall outside the window.

Werner Betelich.

That was a name he would have to remember.

The young man was no simpleton. To lay his plans before anyone else had even reacted... even Krupp had to admit, that kind of foresight and daring was truly impressive.

But Krupp would not bow his head easily.

He’d been in his position for too long. He’d seen too many clever young men rise and fall. Some were a flash in the pan, others took a tumble. The ones who managed to truly find their footing were few and far between.

’Would Werner be the exception?’

Krupp drank his whiskey slowly, his eyes deep with thought.

He would continue to observe, continue to wait. He would wait for the right moment, then make his decision.

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

「The next afternoon, Friedrichstrasse border checkpoint.」

Werner saw Matthias from a distance.

The young guard from before was now wearing a brand-new captain’s uniform, his epaulets glinting in the sun. He stood outside the guard booth, his posture ramrod-straight, radiating the buoyant energy of someone newly promoted.

Behind him was the newly erected concrete wall and barbed wire, with several soldiers reinforcing the fortifications.

"Werner!" Matthias spotted him and hurried over. As he drew near, he instinctively glanced around before lowering his voice. "You’re unbelievable!"

Werner took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered him one. "Looks like the transfer went smoothly."

"More than smooth," Matthias said, taking the cigarette and lighting it. He took a deep drag. "That night, I was on the night shift when I suddenly got an urgent order transferring me here."

Matthias exhaled a puff of smoke, his voice even lower. "Werner, you have no idea what it was like. Truck after truck rolled in, carrying concrete pillars, barbed wire, roadblocks. Officers were shouting, soldiers were running, workers were building."

He paused, looking into Werner’s eyes. "I was standing there, watching that wall go up bit by bit, and I suddenly remembered what you told me a month ago. You said the border situation would change drastically and advised me to apply for a transfer to one of those unpopular posts."

"I thought you were joking," Matthias said with a wry smile. "Who would’ve thought they’d actually build a wall? Split the entire city in two?"

Werner didn’t speak, just smoked his cigarette quietly.

"Then the next morning," Matthias continued, "I received my transfer orders—squad leader of the border checkpoint, with fifteen men under me. Werner, do you know what that means? I’m only twenty-four, and I used to be just an ordinary guard. Now, I’m suddenly a squad leader."

"Congratulations," Werner said lightly.

"Don’t congratulate me," Matthias said, shaking his head, his tone turning serious. "Werner, I just want to know one thing right now—how in the world did you know? The Wall really went up, and the post you advised me to transfer to is now a key position. This can’t be a coincidence."

Werner flicked his ash, looking at the concrete wall in the distance. "Sometimes, it’s just a matter of judging the situation."

"Judging?" Matthias stared at him. "What kind of judgment is that accurate?"

He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Are you really just a businessman?"

Werner turned his head and looked into Matthias’s eyes.

"Matthias," Werner said slowly, "what kind of person do you think I am?"

Matthias opened his mouth, but in the end, nothing came out.

"I’m just a man who wants to live a little better," Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke. "In a place like this, if you want to live well, you have to see a little further and think a little deeper than everyone else. That’s all."

Matthias was silent for a long time.

"Forget it. It doesn’t matter," he finally said. "What’s important is that I’m the squad leader of this checkpoint now."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the bustling checkpoint. "You know what this place means. With the Berlin Wall up, you can imagine how many people and how much cargo will need to pass through here every day."

Matthias leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I have more power now, Werner. We can cooperate more—my position is higher, so I can help you in bigger ways."

He paused, looking at Werner meaningfully. "Of course, the risks are greater, too. You get what I mean."

Werner didn’t answer immediately.

He turned and looked at the full view of the checkpoint—the brand-new guard booths, the strict inspection facilities, the soldiers patrolling back and forth, and that newly erected concrete wall.

"Aren’t you afraid?" he asked. "The situation is so tense right now. The Stasi are arresting people everywhere."

"I’m scared," Matthias said frankly. "But I’m more scared of being poor."

He took another deep drag from his cigarette, his voice a little hoarse. "Werner, you know my family’s situation. My mother’s arthritis is getting worse, my younger brother is still in school, and the whole family depends on me alone to support them."

"Alright." Werner nodded. "But now is not the time. We have to wait at least a few weeks, until the higher-ups’ attention shifts away from the border, and until the inspection procedures become routine."

"I’ll listen to you," Matthias said, clearly relieved. "Werner, I trust you. You’ve helped me a lot these past few months."

Werner patted his shoulder, saying nothing.

"Oh, right," Matthias suddenly remembered something. "I have to remind you of one thing."