I Was Connected to Earth’s Black Market From Another World With The Skill [Market]! (WN)

Bonus Chapter 2

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2019 Publication Commemorative & Reader Appreciation Special SS “Simon’s Road” Part 2

“The surrounding gold market has started to collapse.”

Lauren, the head of the asset management team, told me this, and I was at a loss as to what to do. I knew the cause. It was me—or rather, it was my client, the mysterious Yoshua.

“…Well, of course.”

“Well, that’s true. You could say it’s held up well so far.”

In the past few years, I’ve put more than four tons of gold on the market. Four tons. The unit is wrong. And because I’ve limited the amount I’ve released in order to maintain the market price―even though it’s still on the verge of collapse―it’s not all the gold I own.

“At the moment, the price is being maintained by the movements of several surrounding countries, but if you continue to release it at this rate, it will collapse on a global scale.”

“…The whole world? That’s a pretty big story.”

“Of course. The amount of gold you’ve released is more than the gold reserves of the central bank of this country.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“By the way, even your current personal holdings are higher than Bahrain and Brunei. If you look at the country rankings, you’re about 80th in the world.”

I shrug in silence as Lauren explains. There’s no way I can respond to something like that. Besides, I’m not a country.

The value of the deal is easily over five billion dollars because, in addition to the gold, the items Yoshua is bringing in include a large amount of jewelry and precious metals (as well as artifacts of unknown origin and rare metals). This is a strange unit of measurement, but the income and expenses are cleverly hidden and laundered by my group of wealth management specialists, politicians, bureaucrats, and several government agencies, and at least on paper, it is normalized and legalized, and it enriches the economy of this region and this country.

Yes, this country. That’s strange, too. It’s also strange that politicians and bureaucrats are involved in the business of mere black marketers. It’s all very strange, but it’s too late now.

As soon as the deal started, I realized that it was too much for me, so I involved Sheryl’s father, Seibolei, and he involved the head of his faction, and the head of the faction finally―in the long run, there was no other choice―approached the core of the national government with the deal. I had only one condition.

“A choice that makes more people happy.”

For someone like me, who has no education, intelligence, or judgment, the rules and goals must be simple. And if I have to share them with many people, even indirectly, even more so.

It’s to be expected that people involved in politics look down on a young man like me, who is an unknown quantity. That’s okay. In a way, it’s a natural reaction. But those who think we are naive and cheap and start doing whatever they want will be quietly asked to leave. I don’t have any financial problems, but I don’t want people cutting corners or taking money out of the system.

The first time, it was political; the second time, it was legal; and the third time, it was physical.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there are no snobs who have reached the final stage yet.

“It is only a matter of time before the domestic market picks up. The shady characters with little capital of their own will probably go under on their own, but the upper class won’t waver. If they knew the true face of the Saint, they wouldn’t leave.”

“For me, the true face of a saint is the other side of the coin.”

I myself was one of those “shady characters” until recently. I can’t laugh at those who are about to be ruined.

“The improvements in public safety and sanitation have had a greater impact than we thought.”

“Hey, you’ve got to be kidding. You let politicians leave problems like this to be solved by amateurs with a little money?”

“I don’t think it’s right to call assets that could move a country ‘a little money’… but it’s fortunate that you were politically colorless. It is only because your patron was an amateur that you were able to bring together the many organizations and factions that couldn’t work together before.”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Of course not. This is all thanks to the leadership of the ‘Saint.'”

Lauren, who talks as if he knows everything, is an atheist. So am I, of course.

“I’ve read the outline of the plan for the medical complex. I’ll invest, but the orphanage must be included.”

“The number of abandoned children will increase.”

“It’s better than abandoning them on the side of the road or in a riverbed. Save what you can.”

Lauren’s expression suddenly went blank. This is the face he makes when he wants to express his disagreement but also wants to protect his position. The way a man used to politics expresses his intentions is like that of a troublesome woman.

“I know. If you leave it the way it is, there’s going to be a huge outbreak of losers like me, right? We’ll give them education and training. For orphans willing to learn even more, we’ll give them… a ship.”

“A scholarship.”

“That’s it. We’ll provide the money for that, too. Take anyone who has the potential to grow. If they’re good, prepare a place for them to live and a job for them.”

“Let’s set up a fund. How about calling it ‘Simons’?”

This guy is talking to me because he knows I’m going to get angry. It’s annoying that he’s being so friendly, like a diner in a rundown neighborhood.

“If you mention my name in public, I’ll shove a crowbar up your ass.”

“You’re like a real saint.”

Is this a Bible teaching that you should do good deeds in secret? Of course not. It’s for safety. I know very well that what I’m doing is just a front. But when it comes to actually trying to get results, it’s not so easy. No matter what it is, there is no such thing as happiness for anyone. For someone who has been living in a dirty, stagnant cesspool, the purification of his environment is something he will react against. Moreover, it is something they will fear.

Whether it is good luck or bad luck, I have achieved unexpected success and have become known as the “Smiling Saint.” But around me, there is slander, obstruction, jealousy, and betrayal. I’ve been in danger a few times. Even though it is inevitable that I will be in danger, I can’t allow any harm to come to my family. I have guards to protect me when I’m at home or on the road, and I have a security system in place, but if my name gets any more famous, I’ll definitely be targeted by the scum. When you’re successful, you have to keep a low profile.

But misfortune came to me in a way I never expected.

“Leukemia?”

Sheryl, who was having trouble recovering from her postpartum condition, was sent to a large hospital for a thorough examination. I thought that whatever it was, if we could find out the cause of her condition, it would be a relief.

“What is this?”

In the separate room where I was called, the doctor’s verdict didn’t seem to register at all in my confused head. It’s a rare disease that only affects about seven out of 100,000 people. I don’t know the details, but it’s a blood disease.

“It can be cured, right? Hey, it can be cured, right?

“There is also a method of transplanting hematopoietic stem cells from bone marrow or cord blood, but the risk is too great to do it suddenly. Let’s start with chemotherapy first.”

Chemotherapy. With these words, I finally understand. The blood disease Sheryl was talking about.

“…Is it cancer?”

“Yes. There will also be some side effects from the treatment, so please be prepared.”

As I walked into the hospital room, Sheryl looked at me. She was holding an angel in her arms and had a peaceful expression on her face.

“Simon, can you promise me one thing?”

“Anything for you. Any number of things.”

“I won’t get a transplant from a living donor.”

I looked at Sheryl, my body shaking.

“The doctor said the risks are high with things like bone marrow or the umbilical cord, but…”

“No, the problem isn’t my risk.”

“What?”

“In this country, young donors who have been bought with money are treated almost like disposable items. I don’t want to take the lives of these children and survive.”

“Sheryl…”

“If you go the wrong way, you won’t be able to go to God’s side. So this is my last request.”

Until now, Sheryl has never asked me for anything—not once since we first met when she was eleven years old. It’s always been me who has had to beg, plead, and desperately try to convince her.

She never said it, but unless the doctor’s diagnosis is way off, there’s a good chance that this will be Sheryl’s first and last request to me.

“The stray dogs of the black market have sold their souls to the devil for money.”

I’ve been hearing voices mocking me for a long time. Most of them are probably people whose businesses I’ve ruined and who’ve been robbed of all their possessions, but what they say isn’t wrong. However, I can’t help but feel anger when I hear the following words.

“Sheryl also sold her life to the devil and has only a few days left to live.

Every time I saw the faces of those people who seemed to sneer at me, saying, “Serves you right,” I writhed in anger, hatred, and despair and writhed in my own powerlessness. If it meant saving Sheryl, I would give away hundreds of millions of dollars. If it meant giving away my own life, I would gladly give it away.

And yet… my beloved wife, my goddess, would not even allow me salvation.

“Please smile, Simon. I like your smile.”

She knows the man I once was. She is afraid that, for some reason, I will become a stray dog on the black market again. Sheryl understands that it is a small choice.

◇ ◇

Who would have thought that I would end up going to church? People laugh at me when they see me hunched over in the corner of the chapel, thinking I’m probably trying to get some change from the offering plate. To be honest, they’re not wrong.

I’m experiencing a miracle. I first met Sheryl in church. As a thug running from the police hid in the corner of the chapel, I saw a goddess praying in the pale light coming through the stained glass. It wasn’t just love at first sight. For that one moment, I truly believed in the existence of God.

What I shamelessly wanted was a miracle like that.

Sheryl’s health deteriorated day by day, and she could barely get out of bed. She and her family had become devout Christians. I had become one, too, but only as a matter of social convention. I had never heard God’s voice, but I had often seen the fate of those who went against the tide. No matter how much I prayed, I didn’t think I could go to God’s side. However, I felt that what I needed at that moment was an object to which I could offer my prayers and ask for forgiveness without thinking.

Whatever label is attached to it.

“If there is a sin on your part, it is also my sin. We are a married couple, so we will bear it together.”

Sheryl, lying on her sickbed, repeated this to me over and over again. Sometimes, her consciousness would become confused, and she would talk about old memories as if they were happening in the present.

She would talk about things like me getting into a fistfight with someone, or wrecking my father’s old car in a bet, or how we broke through the police cordon and ran through the slums like rabbits.

“That was fifteen years ago, honey.”

In the end, the bone marrow transplant was rejected. The cord blood transplant was also rejected. Her decision was to make everyone happy. She couldn’t survive by using someone else’s misfortune as a springboard. Is there anything I can do? She always answers this question with the same line.

“Smile, please, Simon.”

◇ ◇

“No, that’s not it. That’s not it. I know it is. I know, honey. I love you more than anyone in the world, and I would give up everything in the world for you. Guhf?!”

I was desperately trying to convince Sheryl in the hospital room of the need for treatment, calling to her from the storefront. When I turned around, I saw Yoshua standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face. No, he must have been there from the beginning, but he tilted his head and told me he would come back later and disappear somewhere. I’m sure he had something to do, but I don’t know what. I realized I was losing my cool. If something happened to Sheryl, I would surely break down.

After a while, Yoshua appeared and handed me a bouquet of flowers. The flowers were a vibrant, beautiful shade of color. They had a faint, sweet smell, and strangely enough, they made me feel calm.

“Knowledge of flowers is essential for political presentations,” they said, and Sheryl and her mother drilled it into me with Spartan intensity. I knew all the flowers and horticultural species that could be found in this country, but I had never seen a flower like this before.

“Why don’t you give it to your wife? You could say something like, “I got you this unique flower.'”

When I ask, it’s a flower from another world from where Yoshua comes from.

“Thank you, that’s a big help. I would never have thought to give something like that.”

I lie. If you want to give a politician – or at least the family of a politician in this country – a gift in private, you can’t give them flowers. That would be revealing everything you have to the other person.

But when I saw the flowers in front of me, I changed my mind. Of course, it was a flower I had never seen before. The color was different. The shape of the petals was also strange. The shape of the protruding spur is also unique, and the fragrance is more like a medicinal herb than a flower. Above all, the elegant, dainty, and ephemeral appearance seems to suit Sheryl very well.

Yoshua bought a trailer for long-distance travel when he moved the refugees. He is always fighting something. I decided to learn from his attitude.

When I took the flowers Yoshua had bought for me to Sheryl’s hospital room, she was overjoyed, but her mother looked at me suspiciously.

“Simon, what is this?”

“I got it through my contacts. There is nothing like it in the world.”

Although it was true, Sheryl’s mother’s face became even more suspicious.

It’s true. She was the one who taught me everything about plants. The fact that even she doesn’t know about this flower clearly shows how extraordinary it is.

“Where did you get this?”

I hesitate a bit in front of my mother, who pushes me. I have the manners and theories for weddings, funerals, and other ceremonial occasions, as well as the basic techniques and applications for winning over the wives and children of politicians and bureaucrats. Among these, there is one supreme method.

Offering the only flower in the world. The strongest form of devotion shows that the person you are giving it to is worth it, sparing no money, time, skill, or connections.

“Can you keep this between us, madam?”

I said to Sheryl’s mother, lowering my voice.

“I hear you are making a deal with the devil.”

The mother nodded, scowling as she wondered what I was talking about.

“Half of it is slander, but the other half is kind of true. I am.”

I looked her straight in the eye and told her.

“I have the blessing of the Goddess. That’s why I have nothing to fear. My family and I, no one can harm us. There is nothing more to fear.”

The flower, which I had never seen before, never wilted or faded but continued to bloom, spreading its rich fragrance and filling Sheryl’s hospital room with a strangely pure air. My Goddess smiled serenely, and I tried to smile back.

Perhaps my prayers to the gods had been answered, but Sheryl’s condition stabilized, and she remained calm. I stayed out of the public eye and continued to make political donations while hiding my name. The funds I released supported Seibolei’s political base and strengthened his ability to speak out. I was prepared to withdraw my support if he became arrogant, but Seibolei was a man worthy of respect as a politician, if not as a human being. He and his faction worked together across political lines when necessary, quietly and steadily improving the local economy and public safety. I would later learn that this was a miracle, a stroke of luck that seemed almost too good to be true.

By initiating a reform of the local healthcare system, the infant mortality rate plummeted, and life expectancy, which had been stagnant, began to rise. Organ transplants through human trafficking were also on the verge of being eradicated. Donations to orphanages were increasing, and plans to improve primary education were making progress. The next step is to provide employment for young people and women. This should greatly reduce the number of impoverished households in the area. If that doesn’t work, we have a plan B. And if that doesn’t work, we have a plan C. “I love you, Simon.”

Sheryl’s condition improved to the point where it could be called a miracle, and now she can stay awake for half the week. I ended up getting a strange title from Sheryl’s parents.

“I’ve heard of the ‘Grinning Saint,’ honey. I’d like to be your knight, but I’m no saint.”

“That’s not true, Simon. My parents call you the ‘God Alchemist’. I think so, too. The greatest thing you’ve accomplished is not money. It’s how you use the money and the miracles it brings.”

I didn’t know what to do with my face, so I just smiled. I’m just going to do what I can for the angels and the Goddess. I’m just going to keep doing it.

I believe that everyone’s and my happiness lies ahead.

The little spoon that Yoshua later gave to the angel would work another miracle…

But that’s another story.

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