My Realistic Simulation Game

Chapter 129: So good at fighting, is he a businessman, or is he Chinese?
"Guys, we really don't know anything about this!"

"We're just...just here in Moscow to do some small business..."

Zhang Weijun raised his hand, his face bruised and swollen, looking utterly aggrieved.

He took Bao Ri, Da Hua, Dun Zi, and the others on a long, bumpy journey from Ulaanbaatar, which lasted four or five days.

I finally arrived in Moscow, and damn it, as soon as I got off the train, someone grabbed me, dragged me into a corner, and beat me up without asking any questions.

"Starting a small business? You come empty-handed? You're kidding me!"

Grigory ordered his men to translate and said in a harsh voice, "Speak! What exactly are you Chinese doing, rushing to Moscow in such a swarm?!"

Zhang Weijun's heart was pounding, but he still tried to sound tough: "We...we heard there's a cheap batch of goods in Moscow, and we'd like to come and take a look..."

Gerry impatiently kicked Zhang Weijun in the stomach!
"Ugh!" Zhang Weijun arched his body in pain, like a boiled shrimp.

"Brother Jun!" Bao Ri and Da Hua tried to rush forward, but were immediately knocked to the ground by two fierce-looking Caucasian men with their rifle butts.

Dunzi, his eyes red, tried to fight back, but was held down firmly.

Gerry grinned maliciously, about to press him for more information.

At that moment, another subordinate ran over quickly and whispered a few words in his ear.

Gerry's sneer instantly turned into astonishment, followed by a deafening burst of maniacal laughter!

"Hahaha! Far East Trade? Qin Yuan? You bunch of trash have gathered to fight us? With your bunch of chickens?!"

He laughed so hard that tears almost streamed down his face, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

He glanced contemptuously at Zhang Weijun and the others who were lying on the ground in a sorry state, as if they were a pile of garbage: "Even the Slavic 'Tomahawk' has been beaten into a stray dog ​​by us."

"You cowards who can't even bring goods, what do you have to fight us with? Your bones? Hahaha!"

He spat fiercely on Zhang Weijun's face, then led his men away.

"Brother Jun! Are you alright?" Da Hua and Dun Zi struggled to their feet and helped Zhang Weijun up.

Zhang Weijun wiped the spittle from his face, his eyes burning with humiliation and anger, but even more so with fear!

The men of Grinna were all tall and strong, with fierce eyes, exuding the aura of desperados!
Is this the kind of ruthless character Qin Yuan is going to deal with? How is he supposed to fight him?!

Zhang Weijun took a breath, looked in the direction where Gerry and the others had gone, and said through his pain, "Let's go, let's hurry to the Chekhov Hotel."

Over the phone, they were told to go to the Chekhov Hotel to report for duty.

Qin Yuan soon learned that Zhang Weijun had been cornered and tortured by the Caucasians.

"We can't wait any longer, we must act immediately."

Qin Yuan calmly made a decision: "Binzi, Weiguo, you take your men and go straight to the station. Drive those Caucasians out and wipe out their stronghold."

“I will have Andrei keep an eye on things, and they will cooperate with your operation.”

"Remember one thing: you can injure or maim them, but you can't use guns, and it's best if no one dies. But you must scare these Caucasians to death."

This is still Soviet territory, after all.

Weapon fights are allowed, but guns are absolutely prohibited.

Using guns changes the meaning and nature of the situation entirely.

With Andrei and his men watching, Qin Yuan wouldn't give the Caucasians a chance to use their guns.

Binzi and Wu Weiguo exchanged a glance and nodded solemnly: "Don't worry, brother. Those Caucasians think we Chinese are pushovers, but what they don't know is that none of those who come from China to this foreign land are cowards."

Binzi's words were absolutely true.

The traders who came to the Soviet Union were not cowards at all; they were all ruthless.

In 83, a strict ban was imposed, and all sorts of hoodlums and gangsters across the country were brought to justice.

They've only been released for a few years.

These "heroes of the martial arts world" had nowhere to make a living in the country, so they simply went to Moscow to try their luck.

Most of these people are ruthless individuals with prior convictions, and many have even undergone further training in prison. Now, after these months of tempering and tempering, they are ready to face the challenges.

They had long since grown into core members of various smuggling gangs.

Now that Qin Yuan has summoned them to Moscow, they've all been holding their breath for a long time.

These skilled fighters were determined to beat these Caucasians to a pulp.

Qin Yuan knew these things very well, so he had nothing to worry about.

For Far Eastern trade to gain a foothold in Moscow, in the Soviet Union...

Not only did they need to establish a stable cooperative relationship with the Soviet government, but they also needed to eliminate and deter local underground forces.

Otherwise, the money they make from this land will attract countless eyes lurking in the shadows.

Trucks and vans departed from the warehouse, heading straight for the Yaroslavl train station.

Students like Chen Jianhua and Zhang Wei stood beside Qin Yuan, watching this scene with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"Brother Yuan, Brother Bin and Brother Weiguo went to deal with those Caucasians. What are we supposed to do?"

Chen Jianhua asked softly; after this incident, he had clearly matured a lot.

"Go to the Ministry of Trade." Qin Yuan's gaze was cold. "Take our Tsar Gevas and Jeanswest with you. I want to discuss a big deal with the Ministry of Trade."

This underground unrest must be covered up.

This requires access to higher-level energy.

Qin Yuan now has access to the Soviet upper echelons mainly from three directions.

First, the military approach is too violent and unlikely to involve urban power.

Second, there's the Industrial Civil Aviation Authority, which is too far removed from the chaos in Moscow; it's a quiet and untouchable department.

And the last one is the Ministry of Trade.

This was a ministerial-level agency established by the Soviet government, responsible for the planning, management, and supply of national trade.

He is an important member of the Moscow government. The storms of the underworld need to be swept away by force, but true peace requires the endorsement of power from above!

This turmoil must be concealed beneath a higher level of deal!

Chen Jianhua is a smart man, and he obviously thought of this as well.

He immediately led his men to prepare.

A short while later, he drove with Qin Yuan to the Ministry of Trade.

The person who knew Qin Yuan and the others was the director of the Trade Department.

The director's name was Molotov, a middle-aged bureaucrat with meticulously combed hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

"Mr. Qin, I didn't expect you to come here."

Molotov smiled amiably: "I've heard about your recent deeds. You traded eight hundred wagons of supplies for seven Tu-154s from Kuibyshev. That's a big deal."

"Director Motolov, you flatter me." Qin Yuan smiled slightly. "I am here today to discuss a much larger business deal with you."

"A bigger business?" Motolov's eyes lit up at the word. "Mr. Qin, please, please have a seat."

He invited Qin Yuan to a seat and immediately asked, "I wonder what kind of big deal it is?"

"Director Motolov should know that our Far East trade mainly involves Sino-Soviet trade."

Qin Yuan calmly sat down and said unhurriedly, "When I returned to China last time, I integrated a large canning production line with ample capacity."

"Among the eight hundred wagons of supplies in Kuibyshev, there were a large quantity of canned meat and canned fruit."

"But this line cannot consume the canning production line I have in my hands."

"I wonder if the state-run stores and supply and marketing cooperatives under the Ministry of Trade are interested in this batch of canned goods."

Qin Yuan directly used the tiger's skin as a banner.

The prince's cannery has now become his banner.

But Motolov couldn't distinguish these things; all he knew was that state-run stores and supply and marketing cooperatives throughout the countryside were now empty-shelf and in dire need of a replenishment of goods.

If he could buy a batch of cheap canned goods from Qin Yuan, it would undoubtedly be a great political achievement for him.

However, there is a problem with this.

“Mr. Qin, our Ministry of Trade is naturally very interested.”

Motolov hesitated, "But you know we have limited foreign exchange reserves right now."

"It's alright, I'll accept rubles or yuan." Qin Yuan said directly, "Not only canned goods, I know your Ministry of Trade has always wanted to increase the import quota of Tsar Kvass."

"But as you know, we are a small company with limited production capacity. Recently, we have also been harassed in terms of transportation, which has caused our costs to rise sharply. We are willing but unable to cope!"

Motolov, being an old bureaucrat, naturally understood the underlying meaning in Qin Yuan's words.

"Mr. Qin, stop beating around the bush and get straight to the point. How can our Ministry of Trade obtain a large quantity of Tsarist Kvass? The higher-ups really like it, and it's our national brand. It's a product that can be promoted abroad. Our Ministry of Trade will definitely support you."

This time, Qin Yuan not only wants to solve the problem of the Caucasians, but also wants to take this opportunity to gain even more.

"There are two main problems. One is the transportation issue. Our kvass comes from Khabarovsk, and our canned goods come from China to Moscow. Both of these require transshipment at the train station."

"But recently, some underground forces have emerged at the train station, which have seriously disrupted our business and normal transportation."

"The underground forces?" Motolov frowned. He was well aware of how turbulent Moscow had been lately.

However, these gangs cannot touch his interests or reach him, the bureaucrat.

Therefore, they never cared and turned a deaf ear.

But now, the question Qin Yuan raised...
Motolov knew that this was one of Qin Yuan's conditions.

One condition was to increase the Tsar's share of kvass and provide the Ministry of Trade with a large supply of canned goods.

Should he refuse?
of course not.

Crushing a gang of Caucasians was like crushing an ant to him.

There are so many things one can gain from Qin Yuan.

“Mr. Qin, rest assured,” Motolov said righteously, “We in Moscow have always had zero tolerance for these gangs, and Yaroslavl Railway Station will surely return to peace.”

"Director Motolov is indeed someone who hates evil as much as he wants," Qin Yuan praised.

Motolov asked, "Mr. Qin, besides this security issue, are there any other needs?"

“Yes,” Qin Yuan said immediately. “Security is related to transportation, but increasing production capacity is the key.”

"Tsar Kvass requires extremely high technical standards. Our Far East Trade evaluated many factories in the surrounding area and finally found that only the Ochakov factory met the filling requirements."

Motolov nodded: "So you mean you want our Ministry of Trade to issue a permit so that the Ochakov factory can produce for you?"

“No, Director Motolov.” Qin Yuan shook his head, looking directly at Otolov: “I want to acquire the Ochakov Beverage Factory.”

"Acquisition?" Motolov's eyes widened instantly; this was an answer he had never expected.

"Do you know how many rubles the Ochakov beverage factory is worth? Do you know who ordered its construction?"

"Acquisition? Do you have the funds?"

Qin Yuan's eyes were calm as he said indifferently, "Director Motolov, I forgot to mention that on this trip to Moscow, in addition to buying seven airplanes, I also brought a batch of goods from China."

After saying that, Chen Jianhua immediately took out a pair of Jeanswest jeans and a Jeanswest leather jacket from the bag.

Motolov's eyes lit up instantly when he saw the two items.

He never expected that the clothing brand that had recently become popular in Moscow was also created by this Mr. Qin.

Just as Qin Yuan was talking with the Ministry of Trade.

The battle at Yaroslavl train station was completely one-sided.

The once arrogant Baliev stared wide-eyed at the large stick that landed on his forehead, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He couldn't believe that these Chinese people were so good at fighting.

(Bonus chapter for 1883 monthly votes, please vote!)
(End of this chapter)