My Second Life as a Mafia Tyrant

Chapter 18: Victor

“Nice to meet you, Victor Bazalov.”

　Without the slightest hesitation, Alois greeted him and stepped into the room.

“Sit there.”

Alois sat down in the chair as Victor instructed.

“So, have you considered the business proposal?”

“Drugs are profitable. I’ll admit that.”

Victor said this to Alois.

“But the risks are certainly huge, aren’t they? Since the previous administration, the ‘National Union’ has been pouring resources into anti-drug measures. They recruited former Strategic Intelligence Agency operatives and marines to establish the Drug Enforcement Agency. There’s a non-zero chance we could suffer losses from this deal. Right?”

Victor said this as if testing him.

“So, are you guys running a gang because you’re afraid of the police?　How pathetic. Besides, the Drug Enforcement Agency isn’t all that. Huge amounts of drugs are moving within the “Federation,” but the DEA hasn’t even managed to get a grip on the tip of the iceberg. And yet you say you’re afraid of the police and the DEA?”

“You bastard…”

Victor’s face flushed with anger as he drew the magic-powered pistol from his waist.

“Can you pull the trigger?”

Alois asked this with a blank expression.

“You’re afraid of the police. All you do is commit petty crimes. Can you really kill someone over that? Go ahead. Shoot me. I’ve made it clear where I’m going. If anything happens, the police will be notified. Can you still shoot me?”

Alois said this without taking his eyes off the muzzle of the pistol.

“You’ve got some guts. Not afraid of dying at all. Are you crazy?”

“I don’t know. I’m used to this kind of hell.”

For ten years. He’d spent them hunting for lives, being hunted, torturing others, and being threatened.

　He wasn’t about to flinch just because a gun was pointed at him now. Especially since he knew the other guy wouldn’t actually pull the trigger. Alois was no longer the innocent 19-year-old he once was.

“You’re a good man. You’ve got guts. I’ll give you credit for that.”

With that, Victor holstered his magic-powered pistol.

“Now, let’s talk business. How much of the stuff can you handle?”

“Right now, we’re running small-scale smuggling operations. Even so, it’s three kilograms per person per trip. If ten people make a run each month, that’s thirty kilograms. The street price for Snow Pearl is 300 ducats per 5 milligrams. In other words, even after deducting the 100 ducats cost price, that’s a profit of 1.2 billion ducats.”

Hearing this, Victor whistled.

“That’s a massive amount. An outrageous amount.”

“The drug business is profitable.”

Of course, they don’t get the full 1.2 billion ducats. A significant portion goes toward necessary expenses—salaries for street dealers, bribes for the police, and securing a safe storage facility.

Even so, a considerable sum ends up in Victor and his crew’s pockets.

“You mentioned Snow Pearl. Does the drug sell well?”

“It sells. There are a lot of people in this world who can’t get by without turning to drugs. We sell to those people. You know the type, right? People who deliberately injure themselves at hospitals just to get addictive painkillers.”

“Yeah. There are people like that. So you sell to them?”

“We could even open up new markets. We could sell to rich people who have too much time on their hands and crave excitement. There are plenty of customers. They’re lining up. There’s no doubt about it—we’ll never be short on customers.”

There’s a demand for drugs everywhere.

But the most vulnerable are the poor.

The poor want to escape their hard lives. They use drugs as an escape from reality.

　It’s a ridiculous cycle. That escape makes them even poorer and their lives even harder. And to escape that, they get even more hooked on drugs. They keep using until they’ve spent every last penny and end up in a coffin from an overdose.

Drug cartels buy Snow White from poor farmers and sell it to poor people. The only ones who profit are the drug dealers like Alois and Victor. And that doesn’t even include the street dealers. Because the street dealers are junkies themselves.

“I was part of ‘Operation Falcon.’ It was the war against communism. To fight communism, I dealt drugs through a front company for the Strategic Intelligence Service. Snow White, of course. We smuggled it to raise funds for our illegal operations.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Of course not. It’s top-secret information. Though even if I did spill the beans, the Strategic Intelligence Service has probably already destroyed the records and established a position where they can play dumb.”

“I see.”

Alois nodded at Victor.

“You don’t seem very surprised.”

“I’ve always had trouble showing my emotions.”

No.

It’s because he knows. He knows that the Strategic Intelligence Bureau—the main intelligence agency of the “National Union”—is carrying out operations of that sort. After all, in his first life, he received protection from the “National Union” government by contributing to those very operations.

　Though, of course, he was shot dead by Felix Faust, the very man who trampled that protection underfoot.

“I was prepared to accept some sacrifices if it meant fighting communism. Part of it was because I myself came from the ‘Ruluxia Confederation’—now the ‘Socialist Confederation.’ We had to demonstrate our loyalty more than anyone else. Otherwise, we’d be labeled as comrades of the Reds.”

　Saying that, Victor took a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, pulled one out, and held it out toward Alois as if to say, “Care for one?”

“I’d be grateful to accept.”

Alois took the cigarette, and Victor lit it for him.

“All right. Now we’re partners. We’ve smoked from the same flame. Let’s celebrate.”

“So, can we talk specifics about our future business?”

“Of course. We’ve dealt with drugs before, and we know the small-time dealers in our territory. But even if you handed us 30 kilograms right off the bat, we probably couldn’t move it all right now.”

“Got it. How much can you handle?”

“Twenty kilograms. That’s a sure thing. Where’s the meeting spot?”

“Someone from the cartel on our side will make contact. The first time is on the house. Or rather, an investment. We’re investing in you guys, so if you can sell it and make a profit, we’ll switch to cash transactions from then on. We’ll handle the money laundering, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Hmm. So this cartel guy is trustworthy?”

“He is. If you’re worried, I can handle the first transaction myself. But, believe it or not, I’m actually a student. My studies come first right now.”

When Alois said that, Victor looked completely dumbfounded.

“A student? You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re a student?”

“It’s true. I’m in the pharmacy program at the ‘Federation.’ Just so you know, it’s not for making drugs or anything like that.”

Victor stared intently at Alois’s face.

“I’m surprised. I was sure you’d already established yourself in the cartel. I thought you were the kind of guy who leads roughnecks like us, shoots guns all over the place, and tortures anyone who dares to defy you. And you’re a student? A student—the man who didn’t even bat an eyelid when a gun was pointed at him?”

Victor placed his hand on his forehead as if deep in thought.

“Can’t you trust a student?”

“No. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’m just surprised. A student, huh. You’re quite a piece of work. You’ve got enough guts to make a living on that alone. I’m just surprised. Well, business is business, even if the other party is a student. We’ll do the deal just as you said. No screw-ups or betrayals from either side.”

“Of course.”

Alois thought to himself that if they betrayed each other, it would be us who would lose out.

“When do we start?”

“Let’s start next week. Like I said before, the first one is an investment. Make sure you earn a good profit. From the second one on, let’s use the money we make to continue deals that benefit both of us. For a long time to come.”

“For a long time to come.”

Alois and Victor exchanged those words as they puffed on cigarettes of the same brand, lit from the same flame.