I am a master in India

Chapter 118 Tiger
Ron was reluctant to buy an expensive satellite phone, but his business was inseparable from it.

Not to mention Singapore, he spoke to Lanant almost every day.

The phone bill alone is enough to buy another satellite phone.

Recently, Luca has also been using this thing to contact him. In view of the situation in Mumbai, Merck has postponed the progress of setting up the laboratory.

Even those Western gentlemen were frightened by the successive terrorist attacks and began to back off, and Luca was trying hard to persuade them.

But no matter what, he was ready to restart the pharmaceutical business. He couldn't wait any longer. Months of delays had caused complaints from middlemen in Brazil.

Luca himself could not sit idly by and watch such a huge opportunity to make money slip away. It is said that some of his bold fellow villagers are already preparing to go to New Delhi to seek other opportunities.

He could no longer remain indifferent, so he called Ron on the satellite phone.

"I've prepared the money. Can I get in touch with Pant?"

"I saw him at a party recently and we talked about it, and he has no problem there."

"Damn, I finally heard some good news. I'll take people out to sea tomorrow." Luca was a little impatient.

"You can also give Merck some assurances, such as providing people for drug trials at any time. In short, try your best to secure their support."

"I know. In order to win them over, I even took those bastards to enjoy the passionate Brazilian girls." Luca's strange cry came from the phone.

"Anyway, order has been restored in Mumbai. Let them come."

"They can't escape. The Brazilian girl will help them make the choice. Wait for me, Ron! I'll be in Bombay in three weeks at most!"

For the sake of business, Luca no longer cared whether Mumbai was safe or not. Not allowing him to make money would be worse than taking his life.

After hanging up the phone, Ron waved Ashish and the others in.

"Is this our new employee?"

"Boss, this is Zamil, my classmate, who is also proficient in construction machinery. This is my cousin, Ahir, and this is my neighbor, Saihal."

Ashish introduced them, and several people bowed hurriedly to greet him. Ron gave them a few words of encouragement, and then only Ashish and Zamir were left.

"The workshop at Suer Electric is still quite irregular. The two of you should write a set of rules and regulations and have the workers implement them as soon as possible."

"No problem!" The old hand Ashish and the newcomer Zamil puffed out their chests.

They were secretly excited, thinking that the boss was going to use him. Zamir, in particular, was filled with a strong sense of mission.

Well, actually Ron just didn’t have time to recruit talents in production management.

He is currently looking for someone, and once the personnel are in place, Ashish and his team will still be mainly responsible for technical issues.

Although Soul Electric has become well-known in Mumbai, it is still a bit of a makeshift team overall, which requires time to improve and settle.

"Oh, by the way, this is your new contract." Ron handed a copy of the document to each of them.

Ashish carefully opened it and caught sight of the large, dazzling figure of 4000 rupees. He suppressed his pounding heartbeat and quickly stamped the contract.

Zamir also saw his salary: 3000 rupees! His movements were remarkably similar to Ashish's, and he quickly covered the contract.

The two looked at each other, then smiled politely and perfunctorily.

Ashish's eyes flickered. His salary had doubled, surely far exceeding Zamir's. If the other person was also making 2000 rupees, just like he had when he first arrived, wouldn't that be too much of a blow to him? Ashish decided to keep his salary a secret.

Zamil was torn between his own feelings and his own desires. He had just arrived and was being offered a high salary of 3000 rupees. He knew Ashish only made around 2000. Would this make him jealous? Zamil was determined not to reveal his salary.

The two looked at each other again, smiled politely, and then looked away at the same time.

"Okay, Ashish, take Zamir to familiarize yourself with the workshop. I'll be out for a while." Ron sent the two away.

He is a qualified capitalist, but he doesn't mind giving his cattle and horses a little sweetness.

Ashish has worked hard and made great contributions, both in technology and production, so it is only right that his salary be raised.

In India, graduates in the engineering field have the highest salaries. Starting salaries are over 3,000 rupees, and some foreign companies can offer salaries as high as 6,000.

Even graduates in the field of finance and accounting can only get a salary of 2500 to 5000. This is definitely the opposite of the situation on Wall Street.

Not to mention the lowest-paid graduates in the education field, whose salaries fluctuate between 2000 and 4000 rupees at most.

This is why every Indian man wants to be an engineer. The social status and tangible remuneration are unquestionable.

In order to keep the cattle and horses grateful, Ron gave them relatively fair treatment.

But there is no time to talk to them in detail today, as Ron is going to meet Bal Thackeray, the leader of the Shiv Sena.

The Shiv Sena is no longer the gang organization it was in the early days. It has now transformed into a political party, whose leader is Bal Thackeray.

Ron was brought to Rafiq's residence by Rafiq; the burly man still remembered him. "We've actually met more than once, at Leopold's Bar and another club." His smile was playful, yet also seemingly meant to be friendly.

"I have some impression of that, too. I often go to Leopold's Bar." Ron nodded.

Rafiq was right, they had indeed met on several occasions, especially at that club, with Khad Khan also present.

Ron was almost certain that Rafiq and Khad Khan must know each other, and even have some kind of deal.

Ironically, Rafiq is now one of the leaders of the Shiv Sena and on the day of the riot he personally lit a gas canister and then pushed it through the gates of the Qingzheng Temple.

Ron still remembered the man on fire, his screams, his pleas for mercy.
I wonder if Khad Khan, a member of the House of Representatives, understands what Rafiq has done and what he would think.
"The Shiv Sena is India's hope, and Thackeray will lead us to victory." Rafiq suddenly said this.

Ron's expression was subtle. Perhaps he was thinking of Hadhan, who did not forget to express his loyalty at this moment.

"You know, the police gave the Shiv Sena a green light during the riots. It was a glorious thing for the police station to receive instructions over the phone from Thackeray." Rafiq continued, as if to increase his persuasiveness.

"I saw it, it was eye-opening." Ron thought of the police chief Samant, and his roar on the walkie-talkie was still vivid in his mind.

"So when you see him later, you know what to do, don't irritate him."

"Thank you for your advice."

Bal Thackeray is not at the Shiv Sena headquarters in Dadar, perhaps because it had just been attacked by the militants. He is now only in his villa.

Thackeray's villa is heavily guarded, with a total of 180 bodyguards guarding his safety. These people are all from the police, including three mid-level and senior deputy police inspectors.

Regardless of who is in power in Mumbai, Thackeray travels in a bulletproof car with a police escort, and the government allocates additional funds for round-the-clock security at his residence in Matoshri.

All this information was revealed by Rafiq, who spoke with a certain boastfulness in his tone.

The villa is located deep in the secluded Karagher Road, with strong traces of government planning. It is known as a boutique residence built specifically for artists.

Its snow-white exterior, a calculated display of nouveau riche taste, is a Bombay-esque extravagance that makes the building appear larger than its actual size.

There were many Mitsubishi Pajeros parked at the door, and Ron was a little skeptical whether such a large off-road vehicle could really run in Mumbai.

Perhaps the Shiv Sena boss suddenly became rich and didn't know how to squander his money, so he bought the car as a toy.

Ron had to go through security checks before entering the house, with metal detectors scanning him all over. The security was even more thorough than that at Mumbai Airport.

Otherwise, the latter would not have been easily hit by grenades thrown by the people on the runway. If it were Sacre, he probably wouldn't even be able to get in through the outer gate.

Rafiq took Ron to the waiting room, which was covered with huge portraits of Shivaji (the founder of the Maratha Empire and the origin of the Shiva Army's name). In the center was a row of chairs facing a closed door.

They had just sat down when the door opened. Rafiq stood up again and took Ron into the inner room.

It was a small reception room, the walls covered with photos of Thackeray's late wife. There was no one at the coffee table, but soon Thackeray walked in.

"Long live the Marathas!" he greeted first.

Rafiq returned the greeting, and Ron had to echo it.

"Dr. Sur, your good deed is a slap in the face of those Hindus! They only do destruction, while we Hindus are busy cleaning up the mess." Thackeray sat down in an armchair next to the coffee table and spoke in English.

"Well, I just hope that Mumbai can stabilize as soon as possible. It will be good for everyone." Ron wanted to explain that he was not a doctor, but after thinking about it, he gave up the idea.

"You're right. As long as the Mughals are driven away, Mumbai will become a peaceful paradise."

This Shiv Sena leader seemed extremely paranoid about the Mughals, and his broken English mostly expressed his dissatisfaction and concern for the Mughals.

He was of medium height and skinny, with thick black hair that didn't suit his age, and wore square-framed glasses that covered half of his face.

He wore the traditional orange attire of the Shiv Sena and a long rudraksha rosary around his neck.

"I heard that besides being a doctor, you also have other businesses?" After finishing his chatter, Thackeray lit a cigar.

"An electrical appliance factory. That's my main business," Ron replied.

"Are there any shrine workers?"

"I don't think so."

Ron wasn't lying; at least none of his workers wore white hats. As for whether any Mu people had taken off their traditional clothing to work in his factory, that was unknown.

Thackeray held his cigarette in his mouth and glanced at him. "The Mumin are dangerous. You've seen it before."

Ron nodded silently, wondering what this big man nicknamed "Tiger" was thinking.

"You should join our union. I can guarantee that no officials will cause you any trouble, including asking for bribes and endless inspections."

"What do I need to do to join the union?" Ron's eyes flashed, he knew the sex scene was about to begin.

(End of this chapter)