Free Web NovelChapter 1: Chapter 1: Transmigrated to East Berlin
Pain...
So much pain...
A splitting headache...
Lin Zou slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a mottled concrete ceiling with a rickety incandescent bulb hanging from it.
The air was thick with the smell of mildew, tobacco, and the sharp stench of cheap alcohol.
’Wasn’t I working overtime at the office? Where is this?’
He tried to push himself up with his arms, but his body felt incredibly heavy.
A faded propaganda poster was plastered on the wall—white German text on a red background that read, "For Our Socialist State!" On it, a worker with a determined gaze swung a hammer.
Lin Zou felt the back of his head. There was a lump and some dried blood.
’Wait, how can I understand German?’
He glanced at a cracked mirror on the wall and froze.
The person in the mirror wasn’t him!
The face was young, about twenty years old. It had short blond hair, blue eyes, and handsome, typically Germanic features. Unfortunately, a faint scar ran from his left eyebrow to his temple. freewёbnoνel.com
Just then, a massive flood of memories surged into his mind.
Werner Betelich, twenty years old, a resident of East Berlin. His father died in World War II, and his mother remarried and abandoned him.
By day, he was a worker at a state-owned machinery factory. By night and on weekends, he loitered on the streets, occasionally smuggling Western goods like cigarettes and chocolate to earn extra money.
Last night, he had tried to smuggle a case of cigarettes into East Berlin. He was caught by the Border Guards, who confiscated the goods and gave him a brutal beating...
"Holy shit, did I transmigrate?!"
Lin Zou—no, he should be called Werner now—sucked in a sharp breath.
He quickly sorted through the flood of memories.
It was early 1961, the height of the Cold War.
After World War II, Germany was divided into four zones, occupied by the United States, England, France, and the Soviet Union respectively.
Later, the three western zones merged to form West Germany, while the eastern zone became Soviet-controlled East Germany. Although Berlin was located within East Germany, it too was divided into eastern and western sectors.
The current East Germany, under the protection of "Big Brother" Soviet Union, was practicing socialism.
East Germany, under Soviet control, implemented a planned economy. Resources were scarce, and the Black Market ran rampant.
Although the government guaranteed basic necessities, everything beyond staple foods like bread and potatoes was in short supply—coffee, cigarettes, and chocolate were all luxury items.
And what about neighboring West Germany? Backed by the Americans, its economy was prosperous, with anything one could want readily available.
1961... As a history enthusiast in his past life, Werner clearly remembered: in just a few more months, the Berlin Wall would be built!
At that point, East Germany would completely seal its borders. Tens of thousands who wanted to escape to West Germany would be trapped here.
Berlin, where people could still move freely between sectors, would soon be divided into two worlds by a concrete barrier.
German conversations and the roar of military vehicle engines drifted in from outside the window.
Werner walked to the window and looked out. A long line of people snaked from the entrance of the state-run store, waiting to buy bread. Every face was etched with numbness and fatigue.
"They’re out of bread again," someone in line complained in a low voice.
"Shh, be careful someone doesn’t hear you."
Werner was shaken.
It was as if he had returned to the era of planned economies. The government allocated all resources, and the people could only stand in line at state-run stores to make purchases.
In East Germany at this time, the scarcity of goods created a massive opportunity for the Black Market.
On the Black Market, a West German Mark could be exchanged for three East German Marks, sometimes even more. Although the government claimed the currencies were of equal value, everyone knew that was just political propaganda.
But the problem now was—
BANG—!
The door was violently kicked open.
Werner turned to the door as three men walked in, all of them with hostile expressions.
The leader was a mild-mannered, middle-aged man with glasses, but his eyes were as cold as a viper’s. His fingers were stained yellow from tobacco, and he held a lit cigarette in his right hand.
"Werner, my good friend," the man said slowly. "Did you sleep well last night?"
Behind him was a large, bearded man holding an iron rod. He was muscular and had a scar on his face.
The last one, a tall and skinny man, had shifty eyes and kept glancing toward the door, looking guilty.
The original owner’s memories told him that these three were henchmen of the Black Market boss, Fatty Wolf.
The bespectacled man was named Wolf. On the surface, he was a librarian, but he actually managed Fatty Wolf’s accounts. The bearded man was Bruno, responsible for "resolving issues with force." The skinny one was Hank, an information broker.
"Hey, fellas, let’s talk this out." Werner forced himself to calm down; the mental fortitude of a modern person was coming in handy. "I was a victim in last night’s incident too."
Wolf pushed up his glasses and sneered, "A victim? Werner, what about the five hundred Marks you owe Boss Fatty Wolf? The goods from last night are gone, but you still have to pay up."
Bruno brandished the iron rod. "Cut the crap, kid! If you don’t pay up today, we’ll throw you in the Spree River to feed the fish!"
Hank chimed in from the side, "That’s right. Boss Fatty Wolf said you have one last day."
Werner’s mind raced, calculating his options.
The original owner did indeed owe Fatty Wolf five hundred East German Marks. That was no small sum at the time—an ordinary worker’s monthly salary was only about three hundred Marks. And he currently had only twelve Marks on him.
In this critical moment, Werner’s heart pounded and sweat beaded on his forehead.
Just then, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang out in his mind:
"Host’s critical situation detected. Black Market Intelligence System activating..."
"Activation complete. Welcome to the Black Market Intelligence System."
Werner froze. ’What is happening?’
A translucent interface seemed to appear in his mind:
[Black Market Intelligence System LV1]
[Function: Provide Intelligence]
’A system?!’ Werner understood instantly. ’This must be the legendary perk for Transmigrators!’
[New Intelligence Acquired]
[Wolf: Concealing a certain contraband item]
[Bruno: Left home last night, movements suspicious]
[Hank: Has contact with an official organization]
Werner frowned.
’This crappy system gives such vague information. I’ll have to analyze it myself. Still, it’s better than nothing.’
With the system’s intelligence to back him up, Werner instantly felt more confident.
He took a deep breath, a strange smile spreading across his face.
"Wait." Werner raised a hand, his tone surprisingly calm. "Before you do anything, I’d like to ask a few questions."
The three men glanced at each other. Wolf asked curiously, "What questions?"
Werner looked at Wolf, a smirk playing on his lips.
The system said he was hiding contraband. Observing him more closely, Werner noticed the man’s right index and middle fingers were stained an exceptionally deep yellow, much more than a typical smoker’s. Furthermore, the left side of his chest bulged slightly, clearly hiding something.
"Wolf, that pack of cigarettes in your left breast pocket... you brought it back from the West District yesterday, didn’t you?"
Wolf’s face turned deathly pale. He instinctively touched his chest. "You... How did you know?"
Werner rejoiced internally. ’The bluff worked!’
"In East Germany, being caught with Western cigarettes gets you three months of hard labor. If the Stasi found out, you wouldn’t be able to keep that librarian job of yours."
Wolf’s hands began to tremble, and large beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
Werner turned to Bruno.
The system said his movements last night were suspicious. Looking at him now, the man looked exhausted, and there was a red mark on his collar that looked like lipstick...
"Hey, big beard, did you go over to Hanna’s place again last night? Old Franz was on the night shift, so she must have been lonely all by herself, right?"
It was a complete gamble, but Bruno’s reaction proved he’d guessed right.
The iron rod nearly fell from Bruno’s hand. "How the fuck did you know?!"
"You still have her lipstick on your collar," Werner sneered. "What are you going to say when your wife asks about it at home?"
Bruno’s face turned beet red, his lips trembling. He had completely lost his earlier ferocity.
Werner’s gaze shifted to Hank.
The system said he had contact with an official organization. In East Germany... that basically meant the Stasi.
Werner had noticed that ever since entering the room, the man had avoided eye contact and kept glancing toward the door—classic signs of a guilty conscience.
’A Stasi informant, huh? That’s a dangerous line of work,’ Werner sneered internally. ’Trying to please the officials while making a living on the Black Market... it’s a thankless job where you’re trusted by neither side.’
Werner looked at Hank, his gaze turning exceptionally sharp.
"As for you, Hank, how much does the Stasi pay you to be an informant each month? Thirty Marks? Or fifty?"
Hank looked as if he’d been struck by lightning, his face instantly turning pale as a sheet. "You... You’re talking nonsense! I’m not..."
"No?" Werner pressed forward. "Then why does the Stasi always know the exact time and place of Fatty Wolf’s operations? Why did they show up so promptly for the smuggling run last night?"
Wolf and Bruno stared at Hank with murderous eyes.
In this era where everyone feared for their own safety, the Stasi—the East German Ministry for State Security—had established a vast surveillance network. They recruited countless "unofficial collaborators," people from all walks of life, who could be your neighbors, colleagues, or even friends.
Anyone could be an informant for the Stasi, filling all of East German society with fear and distrust.
"Bastard! I knew there was a reason shit kept going wrong!" Bruno raised his iron rod, about to bring it down.
"Wait!" Werner stopped him just in time. "This isn’t the time for infighting."
Watching the changing expressions on the three men’s faces, Werner knew the time was right.
"Of course, I didn’t say all this today to expose anyone." Werner’s tone shifted, becoming gentler. "We’re all just trying to make a living. There’s no need to make things difficult for each other."
He walked to a corner, pulled a bottle of vodka from under a pile of old newspapers, twisted off the cap to take a swig, and then handed it to Wolf.
"Wolf, I won’t say a word about your cigarettes. Bruno, I’ll pretend I never saw your... private business. As for Hank..." Werner glanced at the skinny man, who had collapsed onto the floor. "Everyone’s gotta eat. I get it."
The three men finally breathed a sigh of relief, but the way they looked at Werner had completely changed—from contempt to awe.
"However," Werner’s tone shifted again, "I do have to pay back the money I owe Boss Fatty Wolf. But I have a better proposal."
Wolf pushed up his glasses, his tone becoming respectful. "Brother Werner, go on."
"I want to meet Boss Fatty Wolf in person."
Werner already had a plan in mind.
’Since I’ve transmigrated to this era and have a system, I can’t spend my life hiding from debt. It’s better to go on the offensive than to sit here and take a beating.’
Although he didn’t know the exact details yet, he was confident that with his knowledge of history, he could find an opportunity to get rich in this era of impending change.
And to do business on the Black Market, he had to build a good relationship with a local boss like Fatty Wolf.
The three men looked at each other in bewilderment.
’When did the timid, cowardly Werner ever have this kind of guts?’
"The boss is at the back room of the Golden Deer beer hall tonight." Wolf hesitated. "But are you sure you want to go? He’s been in a bad mood lately."
"I’m sure," Werner nodded. "I’ll be there on time."
After the three men left, Werner sat on the edge of the bed, assessing his current situation.
The original owner owed five hundred Marks. This was a huge problem.
However, he now had some historical knowledge and an intelligence system, which he could use to profit from the information gap.
Just then, the system displayed another notification:
[New Intelligence Acquired]
[Tonight at 21:00, a shipment of goods somewhere in East Berlin will be inspected]
Werner frowned.
The notification was too vague. He didn’t know which shipment, whose shipment, or where it would be inspected.
"This crappy system, giving such unclear information," he muttered. "I wonder if it’ll get more detailed after an upgrade. Looks like I’ll have to analyze and fill in the blanks myself."
Still, since he knew there would be an inspection tonight, he decided to head to the bar to gather some information. He might just find an opportunity to turn his situation around.
