Chapter 85: Chapter 2: The Divided City
All eyes turned to Werner.
"You’ve come up fast these last few months, kid." Fatty Wolf exhaled a puff of smoke. "I hear you’ve got connections with the Soviet Army, the Church, and the government. None of those are simple relationships to have."
Werner said nothing, simply raising his glass and taking a sip.
"And you have goods," Fatty Wolf continued. "In times like these, having goods is everything."
"Krupp has goods too, or at least, people think he does," Werner said calmly. "And that’s enough."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that in this business, sometimes what’s more important than actually having the goods is that people believe you have them." Werner set down his glass. "As long as customers believe you can get the goods, they’ll come to you. Whether you actually have them, or can get them, is another matter entirely."
Fatty Wolf was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Attaboy. You’re sounding more and more like a real businessman."
"I learned from you," Werner said with a faint smile.
"Cut the crap." Fatty Wolf waved a hand dismissively. "When I brought you into this business, you were just a greenhorn. Now the scale of your operations is about to catch up to mine."
He paused, his tone growing serious. "Werner, I know you’re capable. But I have to warn you about something—this business is treacherous, especially in times like these. You’d better be careful when it comes to Krupp."
"I know." Werner nodded.
"Good that you know." Fatty Wolf lit another cigarette. "Krupp seems affable on the surface, but if you cross him, he gets vicious. Years ago, there was this guy, Schmidt, who tried to move in on his territory. Less than a month later, he was taken away by the Stasi."
"The Stasi?"
"That’s right." Fatty Wolf lowered his voice. "Some say Krupp was the informant, but no one can prove it. Anyway, since then, no one has dared to go against him."
Werner was silent for a moment, then said, "Thanks for the warning."
"Don’t mention it." Fatty Wolf clapped him on the shoulder, then paused again. "But to be honest, the way you operate now... it’s a lot wilder than me. My little operations can’t compare to yours."
"Don’t say that," Werner said. "Your experience and connections are things I still need to learn from."
"None of that." Fatty Wolf chuckled. "Alright, go on and get busy. I know you must have a lot to do today."
Werner stood up, nodded to Fatty Wolf, and then scanned the room.
Everyone else was looking at him with complex expressions—envy, jealousy, and a hint of awe.
"Gentlemen." Werner raised his glass. "The world has changed, but business must go on. I hope you all find your own way."
He downed the drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and turned to leave the tavern.
Whispers rose up behind him.
"You think Werner will replace Krupp someday?"
"Don’t be ridiculous. Krupp’s been at this for over twenty years."
"But Werner has the goods, and his network isn’t bad either..."
"That may be so, but Krupp’s no pushover. I think it’s still too early to say."
"Who cares? For small fries like us, all that matters is backing the right person..."
Werner stepped out of the tavern and took a deep breath.
The morning air was a mixture of coal smoke and anxiety. More and more people filled the streets, citizens jolted awake by the sudden lockdown. They gathered in twos and threes, discussing last night’s events in low voices.
Werner kept his head down and walked briskly through the crowd.
His mind was racing.
The intelligence gathered from the tavern was valuable, but also chaotic. The rumors about Krupp were a mix of truth and lies, and no one could say for certain what was real.
But one thing was certain—Krupp’s position was indeed shaky. Regardless of whether he had goods, regardless of whether his channels were still intact, people in the Black Market were starting to doubt him.
And doubt was the first sign of a fracture.
Werner glanced at his watch.
It was 7:30 in the morning. There were still a few hours until noon.
He decided to go back and rest for a while. There was much to do today, and he needed to conserve his energy.
******************
When Werner woke up again, it was already eleven in the morning.
He washed his face, changed into a clean set of clothes, and then leaned back in his chair, organizing the current situation in his mind.
’The Black Market is in a panic, supply lines are severed.’
’Krupp’s position seems to be shaky, but the specifics are unclear, and the rumors are hard to verify. For now, my side has a clear advantage—plenty of stockpiled goods and my channels are still intact.’
’What I need to do next is solidify my existing relationships, expand my influence, and keep a close eye on Krupp’s movements.’
Werner lifted his wrist to check his watch, then stood up. It was time to find Eva.
’She needs comfort right now, and she needs hope.’
Werner left the apartment and merged into the chaotic crowd on the street.
****************
At twelve noon, Werner appeared beneath Eva’s apartment building once again.
He glanced up at the third-floor window, where Eva was standing and looking down. As soon as she saw him, she turned and disappeared from view.
Less than two minutes later, Eva came running downstairs.
She had changed into clean clothes and had quickly combed her hair, but her eyes were still red and swollen. Clearly, she had been crying again.
"Where’s Hans?" Werner asked.
"My mother is watching him." Eva’s voice was a little hoarse. "You said you were going to take me somewhere?"
"Yes," Werner nodded. "Come with me."
The two of them made their way through the chaotic streets.
By now, the entire city had fully awakened, but wakefulness brought not hope, but deeper despair.
The streets were teeming with people.
Some stood dazed at intersections, clutching suitcases. Others wept uncontrollably while facing the distant barbed wire. Still others gathered in small groups, whispering amongst themselves, their faces etched with fear and anxiety.
"Did you hear? Walter tried to climb the wire last night and got shot..."
"My son is still working in the West. What are we going to do?"
"Shh, quiet down, someone might hear you..."
Werner and Eva walked through the crowd, unnoticed. Everyone was lost in their own sorrow and panic.
As they passed Invalidenstrasse, Eva subconsciously slowed her pace.
There, the barbed wire was already higher than it had been at dawn. Workers were reinforcing the barrier, plugging every gap with concrete posts and wooden planks. Soldiers stood with their rifles, their faces expressionless, like statues.
Eva remembered how, just a few hours ago, she had been caught in a searchlight right here. If it hadn’t been for Werner...
"Don’t look." Werner gently tugged her hand. "Let’s go."
They arrived at an abandoned church in the Prenzlauer Berg District.
The climb up the bell tower was difficult. Eva nearly slipped several times, but Werner was there to steady her each time. By the time they finally stood at the top of the tower, Eva was out of breath.
But when she saw the sight before her, all her exhaustion vanished.
"Oh, God..."
From here, all of Berlin lay before them.
The morning light had completely bathed the city, but it was no longer a single, whole city. A jagged scar was tearing it in two.
The barbed wire snaked like a giant serpent across streets, squares, and residential areas. In some places, it brutally sliced right through the middle of a street, turning neighbors into strangers and separating families forever.
Eva looked toward Potsdamer Platz.
The once-bustling square was now split in two by concrete barriers.
The shops on the eastern side were all closed, their windows covered with white paper. The neon lights on the western side still flickered, but no one could cross from one side to the other anymore.
At one intersection, a young couple was separated by the barbed wire. The boy stood on the east side, the girl on the west. They were less than ten meters apart, yet all they could do was wave goodbye.
"I’ll wait for you!" the girl cried out.
"I’ll find a way to get over!" the boy shouted back.
But they both knew this could be a final farewell.
"Werner," Eva’s voice trembled. "These people... what will happen to them?"
Werner was silent for a moment.
"Some of them will get used to it," he said. "Just like they got used to the war, to the hunger, to loss."
"But..."
"But some of them won’t," Werner interrupted her. "Some people will do everything they can to contact their families in West Berlin, to send them things, to hear news from them."
Eva turned her head to look at him.
"And my channels are still open," Werner said, looking into her eyes.
"You mean..." Eva’s eyes lit up.
