I am a master in India

Chapter 100: Respect Like a God
"Is there anyone willing to do this job?" Ron asked in surprise.

"of course."

“Do they know the risks that medicine people take?”

"They don't care," Anand replied easily.

Ron was silent for a moment, wondering if he hadn't made himself clear. Testing a drug wasn't just a one-shot procedure; it could leave you with lifelong side effects.

"Maybe I should take you there," Anand suggested suddenly.

"Where?"

“The real Bombay.”

"Don't give me that. I've been to all the places I need to go in Mumbai." Ron waved his hand indifferently. He hadn't just been walking in the sun for the past year.

"No, you have definitely never been there, I promise." Anand was anxious.

"In that case, let's go now." Luca rubbed his hands. To be honest, he was very interested in this kind of place, and the adventurous gene in him was stirring again.

"Ron can go, but you can't."

"Why?" This time it was Luca's turn to get anxious.

“Because they don’t accept foreigners there.”

"Dude, I know the rules. Does it cost money? I have a little hidden away, so it's absolutely fine."

"No, not foreigners, not even if you pay me." Anand started shaking his head again.

"Okay, you stay in the hotel. Anand and I will go take a look before making a decision." Ron interrupted their argument.

Most of his businesses have been paralyzed, and since he has nothing else to do, it might be a good idea to go and take a look.

Leaving Luca behind, Anand took Ron to the slums, taking only small paths instead of the main roads.

Originally Ron was worried about the commotion outside, but after walking around the maze-like alleys a few times, even the sound of car horns disappeared from his ears.

It was too quiet here, as if it didn't belong to Mumbai. The buildings on both sides were old and dilapidated, and the stone facades that were once magnificent and majestic were now peeling and dirty, with traces of haphazard repairs scattered everywhere.

The small balconies dotted overhead blocked most of the sunlight in the alley. After turning a few corners, the alley became darker and the buildings seemed older.

"The next section of the road is not easy to walk on. We have to walk along the outside, sticking to the wall."

After saying this, Anand turned and walked into an even narrower alley. He spread his legs until each foot touched the wall, then placed his hands on the wall and walked along it.

Ron followed suit and entered the alley. The light here was even dimmer, almost pitch black.

There seemed to be a puddle in the middle of the alley, a sticky mass of something piled there. Ron carefully avoided it, but a furry mass carelessly bumped into it.

A foul odor emanated from the soft, sticky thing, and Ron almost vomited.

"Anand, there's something under our feet, it's huge!"

"There's only rats crawling around here, Ron, nothing else."

"Damn it! You said that thing was a rat? I thought it was a cow!"

"Rats are all right, Ron," he replied softly. "Rats are friendly and harmless, except for one thing."

"What's the matter? Tell me now!"

"Yell loudly, Baba. They don't like loud noises or they'll bite."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? You're still so far away that I can't even see your back."

As he was speaking, Ron bumped into him on the back. Anand had stopped, and in front of him was a paneled wooden door.

"Here we are," Anand whispered, then reached out and knocked on the door. He knocked very regularly, knocking once, then stopping, knocking again, then stopping again.

Ron held his breath as the heavy latch scraped and clanked on the other side of the door. The door opened, and a burst of light blinded them.

Anand grabbed Ron's sleeve and walked in, "Quick, don't let the big rat get in!"

They entered a small room with no windows around it, and the only sunlight coming in was a rectangular sky covered with silk above.

A large man slammed the door and turned to face them, his face scowling and his teeth bared.

Anand immediately began to soothe him, speaking softly and with a touch of flattery. It was clear that Ron's unfamiliar face had displeased the man.

The man was very strong, with big nostrils, and his breathing was as clear and audible as the sound of sea breeze blowing into the cave.

His hair was short, and the muscles in his face were more powerful than the average man's back muscles. The dagger-like mustache on his lips made him look even more angry.

Anand negotiated with him for a moment, then turned away. “He said tourists aren’t allowed here.”

"I understand Marathi, Anand." Ron looked at him helplessly.

The tall man was a little surprised, as he thought Ron was a foreigner.

"Are you from Bombay?" he asked.

“No, I’m from the North, but I love Marathi.”

“My God, you’re the first northerner I’ve met who speaks Marathi better than Hindi.”

"Thank you." Ron curled his lips secretly. He had never spoken Hindi since the beginning, and he didn't know where the other party's judgment came from. "Since we are all family, we should just follow the rules." The tall man smiled at them.

"100 rupees per person, Ron," Anand explained quietly.

This was a tip, and after paying, the tall man told Ron his name was Nowell, then pointed to the narrow corridor behind him, signaling them to go in.

"Novi is a policeman, his jurisdiction is in northern Mumbai." Anand said quietly after turning around.

"Police?" Ron asked in surprise. "Why is he here?"

"It's a side job. Every policeman has ways to make money besides his salary. In Mumbai, life is hard without money."

Ron said nothing. He shouldn't have been surprised. He himself had bribed the police more than once, which was enough to explain the problem.

The corridor behind Novi was long, with several bends and a gate. Anand first led him to a place that looked like a courtyard, but it would be more appropriate to call it a patio.

A few men, some Arab, in loose robes and turbans, sat on rough wooden benches, chatting in groups of two or three.

Some people looked at Ron curiously, their eyes scrutinizing him. Anand grinned and greeted them. They turned away and continued their conversation.

Someone in the middle looked up at a group of children sitting on long chairs under a tattered canvas tent.

The children were frail and petite, some sitting, some huddled together, and some working, kneading coal briquettes with their slender arms.

Ron looked up at the yard. There were no windows around, and the gaps were sealed tightly.

He suddenly realized where this place was and that those children were actually commodities.

"They come from cyclone-stricken areas in West Bengal, drought-stricken areas in Orissa, cholera-stricken areas in Haryana, and war-torn areas in Punjab. Only the luckiest children can make it here."

The luckiest? What about the unlucky ones? Ron couldn't bear to think about it.

Suddenly a little girl stood up from a bench and started dancing and singing a love song from a hit Bollywood movie.

She was only ten years old, with an unusually loud, high-pitched voice, and she swung her hips and hips, trying to imitate the movements of a seductive dancer to push up her undeveloped breasts.

She was selling herself; only by selling herself could she have a chance of survival. Several buyers and agents' eyes lit up, secretly wondering how much money this could make them.

Anand introduced everything here to Ron like a tour guide. He told Ron that many children died before reaching the population market.

The spies who made it their job to look for children traveled around various disaster areas. Wherever there were droughts, earthquakes, and floods, they could be found.

For parents on the verge of starvation who had watched their children become sick and die, seeing these spies was like seeing a savior.

They immediately knelt down and kissed the spies' feet, begging them to buy a son or daughter, or at least to keep a child.

The boys who were bought would eventually work as camel jockeys in the Persian Gulf countries, providing afternoon entertainment to wealthy dignitaries at camel races.

Some of them would be seriously injured or disabled during the competition, and some would die outright. Those who were lucky enough to survive, no longer fit for the competition, were often abandoned and left to fend for themselves.

As for girls, the darkest things in the world will probably happen to them, and working as maids in Persian Gulf families is the best ending.

"But they're alive," Anand said. "Those boys and girls, they're the lucky ones. For every child that comes to the human market here, at least a hundred others die from unspeakable hunger and disease."

His tone was always relaxed. It wasn't that he was cold-blooded, but that this country had been like this for thousands of years.

"Come, let's go check out the shelter again. That's where we're going today."

Coming out of another door of the population market, Anand and Ron continued to walk through the narrow corridor.

After a while they came to an old apartment building, and Ron vaguely regained his sense of direction. It seemed to be near St. George's Hospital.

"People here definitely don't mind being medicine men. They don't have much time left."

Anand said this was a terminal hospital, full of sick and dying people. They walked in and saw people all over the floor.

"This asylum has a reputation among the poor as a sanctuary where you can lie down on a small, sheltered floor and die."

Ron saw people walking around, adding labels to patients with symbols indicating how many usable organs they had.

It's called an asylum, but it's more like a giant organ bank. Patients here are willing to donate their organs to the operators in exchange for a quiet, clean place to die, rather than dying on the streets.

The patients here are very grateful and respectful to this shelter. The look in their eyes when they visit the staff is so affectionate that it seems as if they love them.

"Ron, can the lab you mentioned provide a clean place?"

"I think. Probably."

"Can you give them a bite to eat?"

"Should be no problem."

"Will I be beaten?"

"of course not!"

"Will his body be thrown into the street?"

"will not!"

“They will worship you like a god!” Anand said, pointing to the patient on the floor.

Ron was speechless.

PS: I was completely dazed the entire day yesterday. But I still wrote 10,000 posts a day! I'll keep posting until the end of the month!
(End of this chapter)