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

Here’s the chapter. Enjoy~

Chapter 225 – Saint’s Alchemy

“Brother, do you need a Pepesha?”

Simon said to me as soon as I opened the market.

“I don’t need it.”

There was no room for consideration. The Pepesha was a PPSh-41, a Soviet short machine gun used in World War II. Like the MAC 10 of later years, or perhaps even more so, it was a gun reduced to the function of “spraying bullets,” and I have heard that its accuracy was of a good level. The gun was made in the 1940s and is designed to consume a large amount of ammunition, so its condition is probably not too bad. Even if I bought such a gun, there would be no use for it.

“They are of varying quality, but in total, seventy guns will cost you $40,000.”

“No, I don’t need them. What do you mean, seventy guns? I don’t need that many. I don’t use such guns because the total war is over. If I raise the standard of ammunition anymore, I won’t be able to handle it. You know that.”

“The service will provide 200,000 rounds of .30 caliber pistol ammunition, 130 spare magazines of various types, including drum magazines, five Bizons that use the same ammunition, and 30 Tokarev military pistols…”

“AS I SAID, I don’t need any of that. Listen to me.”

Where did you get 200,000 rounds of ammunition? Isn’t that more than all the ammunition we have?

“…And three Broomhandles.”

“Buy…”

Dangerous. No, I don’t need anything I don’t want. I don’t need that. I’m not going to be fooled by a tie or anything like that.

“A vintage Mauser C96, a M712 in fair condition, and a Spanish copy. It comes with two wooden holsters that double as gunstocks.”

“…..I ….. I’ll buy it, please let me buy it.”

“I knew you would say that. I’ll give you two Chinese copies of the .45 ACP version as an added service.”

Oh, I don’t really like that one because of the thicker barrel and the fuzzy silhouette.

I mean, that’s cowardly. No Japanese gun geek can resist the temptation of the Mauser automatic pistol. I speak for myself.

And it comes with 200,000 rounds of ammunition. I think they are Tokarev bullets. The bullets are almost the same standard as the Mauser military, or rather a copy of the Mauser 30 caliber (7.63 x 25mm) pistol bullets―the Tokarev military pistol, which for a time became famous in Japan as a synonym for illegal handguns―it is a 7.62 x 25mm Tokarev bullet.

It fits the standard and can be used, but since the bullet head is coated with steel instead of copper, barrel wear is severe, and I have heard that it is not recommended for use in the Mauser automatic pistol, for which the barrel cannot be replaced.

It’s a waste of money, so I avoid Mauser whenever possible.

“So what’s the story? I don’t think it’s a good enough product for Simon to go into aggressive sales.”

“I’m trying to get rid of some bad inventory.”

You’re honest, right? That’s not exactly what the modern customer is looking for. Do you want me to take back something that nobody wants?

“No, let me tell you something so you don’t misunderstand me. I have inspected it and serviced it. I can sell it to some idiot thugs. But I don’t want to.”

Well. The Saint has become more selective about who he does business with, hasn’t he? I don’t mind you forcing a whole inventory of weapons on me… Well, I won’t say I don’t like it, but it’s not useless. It’s not impossible to use in Casemaian. And it doesn’t sound like he’s pushing it for no reason.

“It’s all thanks to you, you know.”

“Huh?”

Simon slurred his words a little and flicked the gold coin I had given him earlier with his fingertip. It spun around and was caught by his holy fingertips, now cut down to fingernails.

“Do you know? Until recently, the price of a murder here was two dollars. Now nobody will take a job even for two hundred dollars.”

“Uh. Is it safe to say that things are better now?”

“Yes. Crime is down tremendously in my area. And with that, the demand for guns has gone down. And, of course, the use of ammunition. But there are places to dispose of the surplus ammunition. After all, it is the same country. There is a possibility that the guns I give away will come back dirty, damaged and with a criminal record, and there is also a possibility that they will be handed over to me. If that is the case, I would be very grateful if you could take them away from me. If that’s not possible, I’ll have no choice but to dispose of them.”

I see. So this is gun laundering, not money laundering. No, it’s more than just money laundering if it means they’re not coming back.

“Are you going to be a politician?”

“No, I’m not going to be a politician. My wife’s family is in politics. They are doing well, I think, without any favoritism. I will support them and change the country in my own way. First, I’ll start in my own neighborhood.”

“I see.”

That’s all well and good, but with the amount of money that has come in so far, it doesn’t seem like Simon is hurting for cash. The amount of money was strangely specific this time. The items are all different, and the number and condition of the items are all in random amounts. In fact, it seemed like he was putting more and more unnecessary items on the table for the money he needed.

“What can you do with $40,000? Or rather, what will you do with it?”

“Two schools or a hospital. There’s an auction going on right now. If I get it now, I can start renovations right away.”

For Simon, forty thousand dollars is a small fortune. The Saint’s smile faded and he shook his head.

“My sound investment policy has backfired. Thanks to you, I’m not strapped for cash, but I don’t have the money to move it right now.”

“The school or the hospital? Then do both.”

I gave him a small barrel of gold coins. I don’t know how many coins there are; I never counted them.

“Is it enough?”

“It’s enough. It’ll help.”

The guns turn into money that is invested in health care and education to build the future. Death becomes hope.

What Simon cleans up is the wickedness of the world he lives in.

“It is a big deal. As you would expect from a saint.”

“Stop it. It’s not about that. It’s about making more money.”

The former Rastaman may sound like a bad guy, but just because a few get rich doesn’t make them safer. If you keep them down by force or fear, guns don’t work. Maybe he raised the economic status of the whole community. I don’t know how he did it. It’s not for me to say.

“Then this is the product.

There was a box next to me with a huge, stupid amount of stuff in it. I assumed it was firearms and ammunition, but I didn’t bother to check the contents. Two Samsonite suitcases were placed on top of the crates.

“This is a Mauser, this is a Bizon, and this is a Tokarev military pistol.”

You mentioned their names earlier. The Bizon is a submachine gun that uses a cylindrical, high-capacity, spiral-feed magazine to spit out about sixty rounds of Tokarev ammunition. It looks like a shortened AKM, and I believe the manufacturer is the same. I’ve only seen them in FPS games, so I don’t know much about them.

“Hey, did I tell you what my wife’s family calls me?”

Simon looks at the gold coins in the barrel and smiles at me. It wasn’t a smile; it was a resigned smile.

“Not the saint?”

“A divine alchemist, they said.”

Well, that’s not so far off the mark, is it? To be precise, it’s the Demon King.