Free Web NovelIt was already known that the Northern Alliance and warlords like the Taliban financed their armies through poppy cultivation.
But I hadn’t imagined that Ahmad Shah Massoud, who had just seized power, would openly place opium poppies before me.
I frowned and spoke sharply.
“If a nation itself grows and distributes drugs, it’s doomed. I didn’t think you were that kind of man, General.”
In my previous life, Hamid’s younger brother—who had come to power in Afghanistan—was ironically called the Drug King.
The United States knew that yet turned a blind eye, and in the end, nearly half of Afghanistan’s farmland became poppy fields.
By the time the U.S. tried to intervene, it was far too late; the Afghan people, who had tasted the profit, would never abandon opium.
“It seems I misjudged you, General. Let’s pretend there was never a business proposal.”
Zia looked startled, opening his mouth as if to interject, but Ahmad raised his hand to stop him.
When Zia fell silent, Ahmad asked me with a faintly unreadable expression,
“You intend to give up the underground resources?”
“Yes. I didn’t come all this way to discuss drug trading.”
“So you’re withdrawing your proposal...”
Trailing off, Ahmad stared at me with sharp eyes. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
I returned his gaze with disappointment.
Neither of us looked away for a long while.
Then light flickered in Ahmad’s eyes. He suddenly laughed aloud and shook his head slightly.
“It’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. You claim to be a businessman, yet you seem closer to a warrior. There aren’t many who can stand before me and speak so frankly.”
The tense air dissolved in an instant.
When Ahmad smiled, eyes narrowing, he looked like any genial middle-aged man.
It was astonishing how completely a person’s aura could shift in a moment. It almost threw me off balance.
Fingering the poppy on the table, Ahmad spoke calmly.
“I plan to eradicate drugs from this country. I too once grew poppies to fund resistance against the Taliban, but I know all too well that narcotics are a parasite eating away at the nation. Most of the villagers who cultivate poppies are addicted to opium themselves.”
Poppies were the key ingredient for opium and heroin. It was impossible for ordinary people to resist such temptation.
“We’ve begun destroying poppy fields with American support, but the farmers have no alternative jobs. How can I simply tell them to stop planting poppies without offering anything in return? If they don’t shoot me on sight, that alone will be a blessing.”
He spoke of what could easily become his political weakness as if it were nothing.
“This country is made up of many tribes. Even holding them together is exhausting, as you said. The only reason we remain united is because the Taliban still exist as a common enemy. If they disappear, those tribes might turn on me like hyenas.”
The best way to suppress internal conflict was to create a powerful external enemy.
When the Soviets invaded, the Taliban, the Northern Alliance, and countless other factions all joined forces against them.
After years of war, the only livable regions in Afghanistan were those under Ahmad’s control.
Later, when a new government formed, Ahmad became Minister of Defense—but he was soon plagued by corruption, incompetence, and infighting.
Right before the Taliban took Kabul, he gathered his allies, escaped the capital, and returned to Panjshir.
So, showing me the poppy must have been his way of revealing Afghanistan’s grim reality.
I erased my earlier irritation and bowed my head slightly.
“I misunderstood you, General. My apologies.”
“Haha, what can I say? That’s the reputation of this country. And yes, it’s true that warlords financed themselves with opium. But I believe we must move past that and create new jobs. Only then will our nation have a future.”
Indeed, my decision to save Ahmad had not been wrong.
After a brief misunderstanding, our conversation continued smoothly.
“When the mines are developed, the locals will gain employment. I have no intention of turning them away.”
“That will take years. My concern is for the people who need to survive today.”
“What is it you want from me, General?”
Mining development inevitably took time; the initial stages required heavy investment.
But once completed, entire cities would rise around the sites.
Yet Ahmad still seemed unsatisfied.
“What I want...”
“Please, tell me. If it’s within my power, I’ll do it.”
Ahmad clasped his hands together on the table and spoke earnestly.
“My people need jobs that will let them eat today.”
“No corporation will enter an unstable Afghanistan.”
“Kabul is stable. With American support, # Nоvеlight # our military is growing stronger. Start there—build schools, hospitals, and factories in Kabul and in the northern regions under our full control.”
I couldn’t answer right away. Reading my hesitation, Ahmad pressed on firmly.
“I understand your concerns, Kim Muhyuk. But as long as we survive only on the scraps America throws us, we’ll never be independent. I don’t trust them. Look—they haven’t even finished eradicating the Taliban, yet they invaded Iraq. That means they don’t care what happens to us.”
“...That was an unavoidable decision.” fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
I wasn’t trying to defend America, but the casualties from constant guerrilla warfare had been too high.
A government beholden to public opinion could only act cautiously.
“They’ve taken most major cities, yes, but Taliban remnants remain. They’ve even built military schools in Pakistan to train new guerrillas. To stop more people from joining them, we need jobs that let them live.”
He had barely seized power, yet Ahmad truly worried about his nation’s future.
I could see now why so many followed him.
He told Zia to bring a map.
When Zia handed it over, Ahmad brushed the poppies off the table, scattering them to the floor, and spread the map wide.
“Our illiteracy rate is disastrous. If we keep accepting American aid and live like penned pigs, we have no future. So I intend to rebuild this nation from the ground up. For that, schools are essential. I plan to start in Kabul and Kunduz—but right now, there’s no money. Since you intend to invest in Afghanistan anyway, please build the schools first.”
Ahmad pointed to the capital, Kabul, and to the northern city of Kunduz.
He continued for a long time, explaining his vision for the nation’s future and asking for my investment—without a hint of pleading or servility.
His eyes shone with genuine conviction and ambition.
‘What should I do...’
I had only planned to develop the mines. But Ahmad wanted far more than that.
Watching his face light up with excitement, I found myself gradually swept up in his passion.
“The plan is admirable, but there could be complications. I, too, care about Afghanistan’s future. But, General...”
He lifted his head at my hesitant tone.
After a brief pause, he said,
“My friends in Russia tell me you could become Afghanistan’s ally.”
“You have friends in Russia?”
Ahmad nodded.
“When America supported the Taliban through Pakistan, I received help from Russia. I still have a few close connections there.”
Now I understood why he placed such emphasis on rebuilding his country.
This was the brutal logic of geopolitics.
He had fought the Soviets with American aid, then fought the Taliban with Russian aid.
It was the tragedy of a small nation, forced to act as a puppet for greater powers.
“No wonder the United States dislikes you.”
“Haha, how could they have known that the Taliban they raised would one day join hands with Al-Qaeda?”
I finished my brief consideration and spoke.
“I can’t develop multiple cities at once. Let’s begin with Kabul. It’s relatively safe, and sending people from Korea will be easier.”
“Oh! You’ll do it, then?”
Ahmad’s delight was genuine.
“Yes. We’ll proceed one by one, starting with Kabul. But for that, you must take full control of the government. I’m only interested in investing in an Afghanistan ruled by you.”
Power changes people—Ahmad would be no exception. I didn’t know how he might turn out in the future.
But the sincerity in his eyes now didn’t seem fake.
“And I have a condition, General. In exchange for the investment, give me half of Afghanistan’s underground resources.”
“...”
Ahmad didn’t respond immediately.
“I had only planned to secure three mines. That alone would’ve been enough. But since I’ll also be taking on the projects you asked for, I’ll be carrying far greater risk. The Taliban and Al-Qaeda will target me directly. I was already attacked on my way here.”
“I heard about that.”
“I’m a businessman, General. I don’t do things that don’t bring profit. Three mines alone won’t justify the cost.”
I wasn’t a philanthropist; I couldn’t do it for free.
High risk, high return. If I was betting on Ahmad, I’d make the wager big.
“I’ll take 51% of the mines developed. The remaining 49% goes to your government. That way, Afghanistan still gains substantial benefit.”
“Hmm...”
Afghanistan’s underground resources were estimated at one trillion dollars for now—but in time, that value would soar.
It was rich not only in iron and copper but also in rare earth elements dominated by China.
And lithium—vital for batteries—was expected to rival Bolivia’s reserves.
In time, lithium and rare earths would be priceless.
No wonder China used rare earths as a weapon to pressure other nations; they were the backbone of future industries.
As Deng Xiaoping once said, “The Middle East has oil; China has rare earths.” Their value only grew more essential each year.
If I could secure those early, the cards in my hand would multiply.
“Even with 49%, once the mines are active and the regions revived, the value will be beyond measure. And your government’s revenue will be enormous.”
After a moment of silence, Ahmad stood.
He walked to the window, drew back the curtain, and pointed toward the distant presidential palace.
“Countless blood has been spilled for that building. I don’t want to see such history repeated.”
The palace was still under reconstruction after the American bombing.
“If I become its rightful master, I’ll give you what you ask for, Kim Muhyuk.”
Ahmad gazed at the palace for a long while before turning back to me.
“Thank you for becoming a friend of Afghanistan.”
He extended his hand. I rose and clasped it firmly.
“Not a friend of Afghanistan—a friend of yours, General.”
“Haha, isn’t that the same thing?”
Ahmad laughed loudly, and I answered with a quiet smile.
From that first meeting alone, I had gained much.
Half of Afghanistan’s underground resources—
The sight of the desolate city beyond the window now looked like an unscratched lottery ticket waiting to be claimed.
