You Asked Me to Collect Scrap, So I Bought the Entire Underworld?

Other people inherit fortunes worth hundreds of millions. I inherited a haunted junkyard. I thought I was doomed from the start, but then the [Everything Recycling System] arrived! Who could have imagined that I'd sell spicy hotpot in the underworld, with hungry ghosts scrambling to work as delivery riders and even the King of Hell having to queue up for a ticket? Who'd believe that rusty scrap picked up off the roadside could be turned around and synthesized into magical artifacts that outclass high technology? Just as I was counting money until my hands cramped, a mysterious organization stormed over, threatening to reshape the world. I checked the System's recycling prices, wiped away my drool, grabbed my woven sack, and charged at them: “Don't move! That's ‘recyclable trash’ I just had my eye on. Anyone who ruins my business is going to have a problem with me!”