The next morning, I drafted a short, simple message to the contact I'd secured the night before:
> [Meet at Kurogane Station, 3:00 PM. Transaction confirmed.]
No names. No unnecessary words. In this business, too much detail meant danger.
After that, I made a series of quick calls. Renting trucks wasn't easy on short notice, especially not five of them—but money made anything possible. A few extra thousand in "special handling fees," and soon I had five heavy-duty cargo trucks waiting for me.
Each truck could carry one thousand kilograms. I had five thousand kilograms prepared, so every truck would be packed to capacity.
I loaded the gold directly from my inventory. One thought was all it took—bars of shimmering, impossibly heavy gold stacked themselves neatly into the cargo beds of the trucks. Rows upon rows of gleaming metal, the kind of wealth kings would have killed for.
> "If anyone ever knew… they'd think I found El Dorado," I muttered under my breath.
By 1:30 PM, the convoy was ready. Five trucks. Too many to go unnoticed.
I climbed into the lead vehicle, nodding at the hired drivers.
> "Remember—follow my route exactly. No main roads. We're taking the long way."
One of them frowned.
> "Boss, the long way will add an hour at least. Why not cut straight through?"
I gave him a cool look.
> "Because if we cut straight through, we'll be cut open by the police. These trucks will scream 'contraband.' Do you want to get stopped every five minutes?"
The driver swallowed hard. "...Got it. Long way it is."
We moved out. The convoy lumbered through back roads and forgotten streets, passing shuttered shops and empty alleys. Twice, I saw patrol cars up ahead—but because we'd avoided the main roads, they never even looked our way.
By 2:45 PM, the rusted towers of Kurogane Station came into view.
Once, it had been a proud stop on the old railway line, its name—"Black Iron"—a promise of industry and progress. Now, its platforms were collapsing, the iron beams eaten away by rust, and weeds pushed through the cracks in the tracks. The air smelled of metal and abandonment.
Waiting there was a group of black SUVs. Men in dark suits stood around them, scanning the horizon with sharp eyes and hands resting near their coats. They were armed. Of course they were.
I stepped down from the truck, calm, collected.
A man in his forties with slicked-back hair approached me. His smile was polite, but his eyes were cold.
> "You must be the seller. I'll be honest—we didn't believe it when you said you had fifty kilograms. But five thousand? Are you insane, or are you really sitting on a gold mine?"
I smirked faintly.
> "Does it matter? I have the product. You have the money. That's all that needs to be said."
He studied me for a moment before chuckling.
> "Fair enough. Show me, then."
I gestured to the trucks. One of his men climbed up, pulled back the tarpaulin, and froze. Even from a distance, the sunlight off that much gold was blinding.
> "Boss… it's real. All of it."
A wave of murmurs swept through the group. Some looked stunned. Others looked greedy.
The leader turned back to me, his polite smile now genuine.
> "Impressive. Very impressive. But moving this much gold… you'll bankrupt half the jewelers in the city. Where the hell did you even get it?"
I met his gaze steadily.
> "You don't need to know. What you do need to know is that I have more. This isn't a one-time thing. Consider this… a sample."
For the first time, he seemed rattled. His eyes flicked from me to the trucks and back.
> "More… than this? Hah. You'll forgive me, but that sounds… impossible."
I shrugged.
> "Believe what you like. If you're interested, you'll know how to reach me."
For a long moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Then he laughed—sharp, low, dangerous.
> "I don't know who you are, but I like you. You've got guts. Very well. The deal is done."
His men carried over heavy black cases and stacked them neatly at my feet. I opened one, checked the neatly bound bundles of cash—fresh, crisp, unmarked. 250 million dollars. Exactly as agreed.
We shook hands. His grip was firm, his smile full of hidden questions.
> "If you ever want to sell more, I'll be very interested. Reach out. You'll find me ready."
> "You'll be hearing from me," I said simply, before signaling my drivers.
The trucks, now empty, pulled away one by one, leaving the black market crew staring after them, whispering among themselves.
As I slid back into my car, I caught fragments of their voices:
> "Five thousand kilos… and he says he has more?"
"Who is that guy?"
"Did he stumble on a hidden mine, or… something worse?"
I smirked to myself as I drove off. Let them wonder. Mystery was leverage.
It was late afternoon when I finally reached the mansion. At the gate, a heavy truck stood idling, and a man in uniform argued with my gatekeeper, Haruto.
> "Listen, I told you! This delivery is for here! No one else ordered a fridge thirty feet wide and ten feet high!"
Haruto stood firm, arms crossed.
> "You expect me to just believe that? Do you know how many scammers try this trick? No one told me about any delivery."
I groaned inwardly. Ah… my mistake. I forgot to tell him.
I stepped out of my car, waving them down.
> "Haruto, it's mine. Let them in."
Haruto blinked, startled.
> "Y-young master Kane? You ordered… that monster?"
I smirked.
> "Who else would?"
The gates opened, and the delivery crew drove in with relief. Their leader, a burly man in his fifties, came forward and bowed slightly.
> "Mr. Kane, forgive the trouble. We've brought your custom order, just as requested. This… was the most difficult build our company has ever taken."
I nodded, offering a polite smile.
> "Thank you. And I also owe you an apology. I was supposed to pay half in advance… but due to some issues, I couldn't. I'll make it right now."
The man frowned for a moment, but before he could answer, I tapped my inventory. With a thought, several sleek metal cases appeared at my feet. I crouched down, flipped one open—bundles of crisp hundred-dollar bills gleamed under the fading light.
The delivery men gasped audibly. Even Haruto's jaw dropped.
> "Here," I said calmly, gesturing to the cases. "Twenty million. Count it if you want."
The leader stared, stunned.
> "C… cash? All of it?!"
I gave a small shrug.
> "Cash leaves no delays. I don't like waiting."
For a moment, no one moved. Then the man snapped out of his daze and bowed deeply, voice trembling.
> "Mr. Kane, this… this is beyond what we expected. You have our respect. We will handle any future request of yours with priority."
I waved him off.
> "Just make sure this fridge works as promised."
It took almost an hour, but with forklifts and sweat, the monstrous fridge was finally placed at the back of the mansion. Its polished steel doors reflected the setting sun, humming faintly with power.
The leader wiped his brow and gave me one last bow before leaving with his team, the cash carefully loaded into their truck.
I stayed behind, my hand resting lightly on the cold metal. I didn't place it in my inventory yet.
> "First, I'll fill you to the brim. Drinks, meat, medicine, sweets… everything that thrives in the cold. Then I'll multiply it all at once."
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I whispered:
> "This is how we prepare for the end. Quietly. Step by step."