My Realistic Simulation Game

Chapter 2 Guys, do you want to get rich?

Qin Yuan stared at his glaring "10000" ranking on the wealth list, and a long-lost emotion mixed with resentment and excitement welled up in his heart.

In his original world, he worked his way up from the bottom of sales to become the top salesperson, relying on his keen sense of opportunity and extraordinary drive.

Now, a bigger, more familiar, and crazier opportunity is right in front of him!
"No quest prompts? Open world? Time flow: 1 day = 1 year?"

Qin Yuan chewed on this information, a slightly wild smile creeping onto his lips. "Isn't this a sandbox tailor-made for 'cheaters' like me?"

"Passage? Boundary currency?"

"It's obvious that topping the wealth list is the only way to pass!"

Without further hesitation, he scanned the bustling street and locked onto a small restaurant with a "state-owned" sign.

Now, he needs paper and pen, a few quiet minutes to put the crazy yet incredibly clear plan in his mind onto paper, and more importantly, he needs a telephone!
Walking into the slightly greasy restaurant, Qin Yuan ordered the cheapest bowl of noodles with soybean paste and went straight to the counter: "Comrade, can I borrow a piece of paper, a pen, and the phone? Here's the money."

He pulled out the few crumpled banknotes he had and slapped them on the counter.

The older woman behind the counter glanced at the young man, who had a roguish air about him but surprisingly bright eyes, muttered "Phone charges are separate," and still pushed the paper, pen, and old-fashioned rotary dial telephone over.

Ignoring the curious gazes of the diners around him, Qin Yuan leaned over the greasy table and began to write with flowing strokes of his pen.

He quickly wrote down all the ways he could think of to get rich quickly in the early 90s:

They engage in buying and selling, acquiring state-owned enterprises, purchasing stock subscription certificates, establishing businesses and factories, engaging in trade and smuggling, and even investing in real estate, electronic finance, and the internet.
Every industry presents unprecedented opportunities.

You could even say that in this day and age, you can get rich by collecting scraps.

However, most of these opportunities to make money require time or waiting for the right opportunity.

However, what he lacks most right now is time.

Is there a way to make a lot of money in a short period of time with little initial investment?

Qin Yuan was selecting from a large number of options.

Finally, his gaze settled on the words "trade" and "smuggling".

The era of making huge profits simply by virtue of a single approval slip is over.

Furthermore, the relevant laws and regulations concerning speculation and profiteering will be further improved in the future.

In modern terms, continuing to be a middleman in the country is now a sunset industry.

However, just because it doesn't work domestically doesn't mean it won't work abroad.

At that time, the Soviet Union was the perfect place to be a middleman.

And his location was Yanjing.

There was an international train that traveled through the Soviet Union—the K3.

The K3 international train runs once a week, taking six days and six nights, and the railway is over 9,000 kilometers long.

You can travel directly from Yanjing to Moscow via Erenhot.

As long as you board the train in Yanjing with your goods, no matter what you're selling, the price will increase several times or even ten times when you arrive in Moscow.

This profit is far greater than what you could earn as a small-time speculator in the country.

Most importantly, the startup capital requirement for the reseller route is relatively low!

His identity also fits the bill: he has connections and courage within the "playboy" circle!

The risks are nothing more than highway robbers, ambiguous policies, international scammers, and severe cold...

But the profits are enough to cover all the risks!
Qin Yuan drew several heavy circles on the "international middleman" section with his pen, almost piercing the paper.

That's it!

This is the most suitable unconventional approach for "Master Jing" in his current role and at this time, allowing him to best utilize his knowledge from his past life and quickly climb the wealth rankings!

In his previous life, he was born in the late 1990s and was somewhat unfamiliar with the 95s. All he could hold onto now were the novels, TV series, and the movie "The Great Heist of the 93 International Train - Moscow Operation" that he had read in his previous life.

Although the content is diverse, it's enough to seize the initiative!
"Snap!" Qin Yuan slammed the paper covered in writing shut, his eyes sharp as knives.

He grabbed the phone and, relying on the original owner's memories, dialed a number.

"Hey? Da Binzi? It's me, your brother Yuan!"

Qin Yuan's voice carried a deliberately suppressed excitement and an unquestionable authority, "Stop talking nonsense, listen! Call Gangzi, Magan'er, and... do you know that old Zhang guy from Khabarovsk?"

"Call him! Immediately! Right now! To the east entrance of Qianmen Dapenglan'er (a famous wholesale market in Beijing), wait for me at 'Old Liu's Lamb Spine' restaurant! I'll lead you to immense wealth! If you're even a minute late, you won't even get a hot bowl of soup!"

A surprised and uncertain voice came from the other end of the phone, "Brother Yuan? What's wrong? What happened?"

Qin Yuan interrupted him directly: "Don't ask! We'll talk when we get there! Bring all the resources you can get your hands on! Remember, all of it! If you dare to hold back, don't ever say you know me, Qin Yuan, again!"

After saying that, he hung up the phone with a "bang," leaving Da Binzi on the other end of the line completely bewildered.

Qin Yuan knew exactly what he was doing when he called these people.

Da Binzi was his childhood friend; they grew up together, practically inseparable, and had a life-or-death bond.

He was strong and powerful from a young age, standing at 1.98 meters tall. He almost killed someone and was imprisoned for two years because of it.

Gangzi was his younger brother, three years younger than him and Dabinzi. He had followed them around the streets and alleys since he was a child. He was very stubborn and would not listen to anyone except him.

As for Ma Gan'er, he's a thief with dirty hands and feet. He's always been taken care of by Ma Gan'er, which is why his tendons haven't been severed.

"Check, please." Qin Yuan called out.

He took out a ten-yuan note, paid for the noodles and phone call, borrowed matches from the old lady, and burned the paper covered with "get-rich-quick schemes" to ashes.

Amidst the curious stares of onlookers, he zipped up his black jacket and strode towards Dapenglaner, the largest wholesale distribution center in Beijing.

Along the way, the hustle and bustle and vitality unique to the 1990s rushed towards him. The hawkers' cries, the bicycle bells, and the Hong Kong and Taiwan pop songs playing on the tape recorder all became the prelude to the symphony of wealth in his ears.

Along the way, his eyes darted around, taking in the various items in the market, and his heart gradually settled.

When we arrived at the agreed-upon small restaurant, the owner was an acquaintance.

"Yuanzi, what's the matter today? Why are so many people invited to dinner?"

Qin Yuan smiled and said, "Good news! Where are they?"

The owner pointed inside: "The first private room."

Qin Yuan strode over, and as soon as he entered the private room, he felt a restless yet oppressive atmosphere.

"Brother Yuan."

"Brother Yuan."

"Brother Yuan."

The three addresses were given by three different people.

Da Binzi was sturdy and composed, sitting in place like a mountain.

Gangzi, with a face full of fat and a fiery temper, saw Qin Yuan enter and a hint of joy flashed in his eyes.

He was skinny and short, so thin that he was hard to spot in a crowd; what stood out were the dark circles under his eyes.

And the only one who didn't speak, sitting at the very back, was an old man named Zhang, wearing an old cotton-padded jacket, with cloudy but shrewd eyes.

Everyone has arrived.

On the table was only a pot of the cheapest jasmine tea.

Qin Yuan approached, lowered his hands to signal them to sit down, and whispered, "Brothers, do you want to get rich?"

(End of this chapter)