CHAPTER 191: CHAPTER 152: QI YUN’S PROPOSAL

[Today’s Intelligence 3 (Blue): 100 kilometers west of Tashtagol, buried under the ruins, lies a cache of Soviet-era weapons, specific coordinates are N****]

Qi Yun stared blankly at the intelligence before him, a bit dumbfounded. Wow, they even brought out military arms, as expected of the big goose.

He was a bit hesitant to touch this stuff. Even if he found it, he wouldn’t dare sell it. One wrong move and he might lose his head.

Dealing with arms is no small matter in any country...

The next day, after a few of them had breakfast at the hotel, they followed Mendeleyev to his supermarket.

The supermarket was located in the city center. It wasn’t small, probably two or three thousand square meters over two floors.

When everyone walked into the supermarket, it was full of a wide variety of goods, from food to daily necessities. The shelves were stocked with various Russian specialty products, and some packages had Chinese writing on them.

Mendeleyev introduced as they walked: "This is my supermarket, which only started operating last year."

Qi Yun looked around. He saw only a few scattered customers shopping, not even more than the number of supermarket employees. It seemed the situation was indeed as bad as Mendeleyev had said.

"Have you tried holding some promotional events to bring customers back?" Peng asked.

Mendeleyev sighed helplessly: "I’ve tried. As soon as I hold an event, the others do the same immediately, with even better deals than mine."

Qi Yun furrowed his brows at this: "Why are they targeting you? Is there a grudge?"

Mendeleyev shook his head with a wry smile: "I don’t have any deep grudges with them. It’s really just a conflict of interest."

"My supermarket is relatively large and in a central location, so business is better than theirs. The market here is only so big, and they’re worried I’ll take their business, so they’ve united to suppress me."

Qi Yun nodded slightly after hearing the explanation. This kind of thing was nothing new to him.

Next, Mendeleyev took them to see his KTV and other businesses. Overall, things were decent, but like he said, the market here is too small, not even as big as a small county back home.

Around noon, they found a restaurant to eat at.

Qi Yun turned to Mendeleyev and asked, "How did the cashmere carpets and the batch of cotton fabrics you brought back last time sell?"

Mendeleyev put down his utensils upon hearing the question and answered, "I sold some in the supermarket, but most were wholesaled to merchants in the capital."

Qi Yun pondered for a moment after hearing this and sighed: "Honestly, the market here is too small. I personally think competing with them doesn’t make much sense."

Peng nodded in agreement: "I think so too. Even if we provide you with some domestic products, it won’t be long before they find channels to compete with you."

Mendeleyev was naturally aware of this truth, but his investment in the supermarket was huge, so he couldn’t give up so easily.

"Do you have any good suggestions?"

Qi Yun lit up a cigarette, took a deep puff, and then said slowly: "Why don’t you just cooperate with them? It’s just a conflict of interest, no other grudges."

"In the future, you can give them some of the products we provide you, shift your focus to the capital, and explore new markets. After all, this place is too small."

Mendeleyev nodded and sighed: "I’ve thought about it too, but the business environment here is different from back home. Without certain connections, it’s hard to establish a foothold."

"My business in the capital is currently in a half-dead state, frequently encountering trouble."

Qi Yun clicked his tongue after hearing this and was momentarily speechless.

After a while, he suddenly remembered the piece of intelligence about the arms. If Mendeleyev told a certain leader in the capital about this, could it win their favor?

After all, he didn’t dare touch those things himself. It might as well be given to Mendeleyev to help him build connections.

Once he establishes himself here, there will be plenty of opportunities for him to make money in the future.

With this thought, he pretended to take out his phone and stood up: "I’ll make a call to think of a way to help you."

About five minutes later, Qi Yun returned to his seat after finishing a cigarette outside.

He looked around, leaned closer to Mendeleyev, and lowered his voice: "A friend told me a secret. He knows a place where Soviet-era arms are hidden."

"If you report this to a leader in the capital, can you connect with them in the future?"

"Arms...arms?" Mendeleyev was startled and looked incredulous, "Are you sure?"

Qi Yun nodded, calmly saying: "My friend already gave me the location. It’s about a hundred kilometers from here. We can check to see if it’s true or not."

Mendeleyev gulped unconsciously, then cautiously checked that no one around could hear them before he started to speak: "In Tuva, anything related to arms is very sensitive. If your friend is telling the truth and the arms aren’t in small quantities, then I’m confident I can connect with an influential figure."

"Alright then, we’ll verify it later." With that, Qi Yun casually picked up his chopsticks again, adding, "By the way, do you guys have those container blind box auctions around here?"

The sudden change of topic left Mendeleyev a bit confused, but he responded, "Yes, there’s a warehouse rental center up ahead, and they often hold these events. Many people like to try their luck, hoping to find something valuable in a container."

"Why ask all of a sudden?"

Qi Yun smiled, took a bite, chewed it up, and said, "I just thought of it. I saw it on TV before and wanted to experience it."

Mendeleyev grinned broadly and said, "Sure! After lunch, I’ll take you there to check it out."

They finished their lunch in a whirlwind and then drove to the warehouse rental center in East City.

In a spacious yard, there were dozens of large and small warehouses, along with some rusty containers.

Mendeleyev led them to a bulletin board that listed information about today’s auctioned warehouses, including starting prices and general origins.

Qi Yun glanced at the information for Warehouse 68, with a starting price of 60,000 Rubles, roughly equivalent to 5,000 RMB.

A short distance away, a group of about a dozen people had gathered in front of a warehouse, seemingly in the middle of an auction.

Qi Yun couldn’t understand their excited chatter, but he could see their emotions were very high.

Finally, after a bidding war, the contents of the warehouse were bought by an older woman for 120,000 Rubles, Mendeleyev said.

Next was the blind box reveal. The woman eagerly took the key from the staff and opened the iron door of the warehouse.

As soon as the door opened, a somewhat musty smell hit everyone in the face. The warehouse was filled with boxes, all containing sweaters, knitwear, and similar clothing.

The old lady’s previously excited expression instantly turned somber; clearly, the goods in this warehouse weren’t particularly valuable.

The surrounding crowd let out a series of disappointed sighs, while some felt secretly relieved that they hadn’t bid higher earlier.

The auctioneer also shook his head, leading the crowd to the next warehouse.

The warehouse door bore the number 68, mentioned in the information.

Qi Yun took out a cigarette and lit it, then said to Mendeleyev, "Help me bid on the items in this warehouse, anything below one million Rubles is fine."

Upon hearing this, Mendeleyev was slightly taken aback but seeing Qi Yun wasn’t joking, he nodded and agreed, "No problem, if you want to play, let’s indulge you a bit."

As soon as he finished speaking, bidding voices started rising from the crowd.

"Sixty-five thousand!"

"Seventy thousand!"

Mendeleyev followed Qi Yun’s instructions and slowly increased the bid, "Eighty thousand!"

As the price continued to rise, some people gradually bowed out of the competition.

Yet, a man in sunglasses continued to challenge Mendeleyev.

"One hundred thousand!" shouted the man with sunglasses.

Mendeleyev kept bidding, "One hundred and ten thousand!"

The man with sunglasses seemed somewhat hesitant and bit his lip before shouting, "One hundred and twenty thousand!"

Mendeleyev glanced at him and said coolly, "One hundred and fifty thousand!"

With this, the man with sunglasses opted out, shaking his head helplessly.

Mendeleyev nodded at Qi Yun, who then paid up and received the key from the staff.

Once the warehouse door opened, several crates nailed with wooden planks came into view, the largest was about 1.5 meters high and 2 meters long.

Qi Yun knew this probably contained the Harley motorcycle.

The crowd couldn’t help but inch closer out of curiosity, generally believing the contents were likely valuable enough to break even.

As the crates were opened, the items inside gradually came to light.

Aside from the expected Harley motorcycle, there were some parts and tools.

The motorcycle was covered with a thick layer of dust, with a unique design and sleek body lines, resembling those ridden by biker gangs in movies.

The crowd gasped in surprise, while those familiar with it immediately recognized its origin, excitedly inspecting the bike and muttering things Qi Yun couldn’t understand.

"Your luck is really something," Mendeleyev smacked his lips, somewhat envious, then translated, "He said this Harley motorcycle was produced in 1970 and is of excellent quality."

Qi Yun smiled and replied, "Can you ask him if he’s interested in buying it?"

Mendeleyev nodded and turned back to converse with the knowledgeable person.

The two of them exchanged in quick Russian dialogue, occasionally pointing to various parts of the motorcycle.

After a while, Mendeleyev turned to Qi Yun and said, "He says he likes the motorcycle a lot but doesn’t have enough money to buy it."

"However, he knows some friends who are into motorcycles. He’ll contact them now to see if anyone’s willing to make an offer."

Qi Yun nodded and replied, "Alright, we’ll wait for him for half an hour."

Upon hearing this, the man quickly took out his phone and stepped aside to call.

After about ten minutes, the man ran back excitedly, speaking rapidly to Mendeleyev.

Upon listening, Mendeleyev showed a surprised expression and turned to Qi Yun, saying, "He says the most they can offer is two million Rubles."

Qi Yun promptly shook his head in refusal, as two million Rubles converts to merely tens of thousands in RMB.

This motorcycle looks quite new. Even if it doesn’t fetch the $250,000 like some, it should still be worth two or three hundred thousand RMB.

The man, seeing no agreement, showed a trace of reluctance, circling the motorcycle again and engaging in further conversation with Mendeleyev.

"He says he can’t determine the true condition of the bike yet, asking for your lowest selling price," Mendeleyev relayed.

Qi Yun pondered for a moment then replied, "Three million Rubles, I won’t sell for less."

Mendeleyev translated his words to the man, who frowned slightly, showing a hint of hesitation.

He paced around a bit before taking out his phone again, conversing with someone on the line.

"Is this motorcycle really worth that much?" Peng Ge asked, approaching.

Qi Yun nodded, "Seems it’s not cheap."

After a while, the man hung up and said a few words to Mendeleyev.

"He says three million is fine, but they need to transport the bike to a repair shop first to check if the engine is functioning properly. If there are issues, they’ll have to renegotiate the price," Mendeleyev explained.

Qi Yun thought for a moment and agreed, saying it’s best to deal with it locally, sparing him the trouble of transporting it back home.

Mendeleyev communicated another round with the counterparts, then called one of his own people to join the others.

Having secured the motorcycle, Qi Yun lost interest in watching further auctions, beckoning Mendeleyev to head towards the place where the munitions were buried.