I am a master in India

Chapter 129: Fished

Ron's hometown is Varanasi, a medium-sized city in Uttar Pradesh.

It is not the state capital, but it is world famous.

The most famous holy river cremation, the Ganges floating corpse, is held there.

Ron actually has no impression of Varanasi, but that does not prevent him from considering Manisha as a "fellow countryman".

Sure enough, after hearing this, Manisha was very surprised.

“I can’t believe it! Dr. Sur is also from Varanasi!”

"I've been in Mumbai for two years and haven't been back yet. Now I miss my childhood there very much." Ron said shamelessly.

“The people there are so welcoming, and they have tandoori cold drinks, my favorite dessert.”

"Oh, my mouth is watering."

"If you want to taste it, I can make it."

"That's great!"

Old Lal suddenly felt a little redundant. He was like an annoying and unconscious matchmaker, shamelessly inserting himself between young men and women who were exchanging glances.

They were clearly here to discuss the commercial shoot, but he hadn't gotten a word in yet.

"Ahem," Old Lal coughed lightly, "So this ad is okay, right?"

"No problem, Manisha is great. She's beautiful and approachable." Ron made the decision without hesitation.

"Well then," Old Lal turned around, "Manisha, this time the notice fee is two lacs, is that acceptable to you?"

"Of course, I can start working anytime." Manisha said with a very good attitude.

"Great, cheers to our cooperation!" Old Lal picked up the coffee.

"Cheers!" Ron and Manisha agreed with a smile.

The discussion went smoothly without any setbacks. After all, one was affectionate and the other was intentional.

Before parting, Ron and Manisha exchanged contact information. As they were from the same hometown, they naturally wanted to catch up.

The most important thing is that Ron wants to eat the dessert made by Manisha, which they had agreed on.

The specific shooting of the advertisement will be handled by old Lal. Not long after Ron returned from Bandra, Luca came to him.

"People from Merck have agreed to come to Mumbai for an inspection in September. If all goes well, the laboratory will be operational within the year."

"That's good news." Ron nodded appreciatively.

It seemed that Luca had really put in some effort to get those white people to come to Mumbai half a year after the riots, which really surprised him.

"We have to make some preparations. Each medicine man is worth $5,000. They will definitely need a lot more after they get a taste of the sweetness."

"What do you mean by preparation?" Ron asked.

"Of course, we have to serve them well and let them experience the best enjoyment in Mumbai, the kind that is extremely shocking and astonishing!"

"so."

"The Imperial Palace!" Luca blurted out. "I have to go and fight a few outposts first, so I don't show any weakness."

"It's hard to say for the people at Merck, but you really want to get glue." Ron glanced at him.

"At least I have to familiarize myself with the menu, otherwise they will definitely look down on me." Luca's face flushed.

"Can you remember the 8-page menu?"

“Just go a few more times.”

Why do you need to memorize so many moves? Do you want to take the postgraduate entrance examination?
"I'll introduce you to Harry from the customs office someday. We need him to take care of our business. He's just as obsessed with the palace as you are."

"Okay, okay, I will!" Luca said impatiently.

If that place didn't require an introduction from an acquaintance, he would have gone there long ago.

I heard that the people received in the palace were either rich or noble. If a smuggler like him went there, he would probably be sent away by just a random woman, and he would never see the legendary 8-page menu.

"Anything else?" Ron put down the newspaper when he saw that he hadn't left.

"Passport." Luca hesitated.

"Passport? Isn't your passport in good condition?"

"It's not me, it's a friend of mine who needs a clean American passport."

"That friend definitely isn't you," Ron nodded. "Did you do it for someone else?"

"There was a corrupt official who was about to flee. After hearing that I had connections, he came here to seek help. He is Brazilian and has some connections with my family."

"Why did he run?"

"Uh," Luca said, a little confused, "Of course he has to run to avoid being caught."

"Will he be taken to court if he doesn't run?" Ron asked.

"Of course, any country would do this." Luca spread his hands.

"That's not the case in India. Corrupt officials in India are idolized. Even if there's irrefutable evidence, they won't be brought to court. At most, they'll be transferred to another position."

Luca choked, and his cognition and logical thinking suffered severe damage.

"It seems that my great India is still better." Ron was a little complacent, and his national pride stood up.

"So whether I can get a passport or not, money is not a problem." Luca gave up worrying about it.

"It's easy if you have money, just wait." This was not the first time Ron had done something like this.

Ron still attaches great importance to maintaining the relationship with Luca.

It's simple, the business brought by Luca can bring him US dollars.

Whether it was smuggling drugs or introducing pharmacists, all transactions were settled in U.S. dollars. Ron had a significant demand for U.S. dollars for a long time, and he still had to support his Sur Electric Company.

Equipment, technology, and even some raw materials cannot be bought with rupees.

This is why he still clings to gray transactions even after he has established a legitimate business.

If you were to ask who Ron knew best about the passport business, it would definitely be Hela.

They had worked together once before, and Ron had gotten a glimpse of the process.

"You're not looking for me again because of something in the palace this time, are you?" She was wearing a long-sleeved veil top that fell below her knees, loose silk olive green trousers, and her hair was styled into playful French curls.

"Of course not. That place makes people feel uncomfortable." Ron said righteously, "It's about the passport."

"Are you looking for business?" Hela picked up the coffee, her soft red lips curled up in a beautiful arc.

"A Brazilian friend asked me to get a clean American passport."

"Since you were a gentleman last time, I can give you a discount of $8,000."

"No, that's too little. At least $2. No, how about $5?"

"Puff," Hela coughed softly, choking on her coffee.

"Dude, you're not high, are you?" She wiped her mouth with a tissue and glared at him reproachfully.

"You know I don't touch that stuff."

"If that bastard Dirang teaches you bad things, I will kill him. You are never allowed to touch that thing again." She suddenly became fierce.

"Hey, have you forgotten? I can't even get used to eating Paan, let alone hemp grass." Ron patted her arm to comfort her.

"Sorry Ron, I just don't want you to become like George," Hela said sadly.

Ron had seen the George she was talking about. He often begged on the streets of Colaba or worked as a crystal powder broker.

I heard that he was originally a friend of several people, but later, for some reason, he became addicted under the influence of Di Rang.

He lost control of his addiction and even sold his passport. He hid from them, secretly injecting himself with drugs, and eventually his health collapsed.

Just recently, George was found in a stinking ditch. Rats had gnawed him beyond recognition, leaving him emaciated and weighing less than 30 kilograms.

Hela became sensitive because of this incident. She didn't care about Dirang, but not Ron.

"He's a corrupt Brazilian official. I think he's embezzled a ton of money. He didn't even ask the price, just wanted a passport. We need to teach this guy a lesson."

"That's right, Brazil is so poor. If he gets greedy for money, he will inevitably hurt many people. Come with me!" She grabbed Ron's arm and stood up.

"Where?"

"To my apartment."

Ah this?

Ron didn't resist at all and followed her obediently.

Hela's apartment is on the second floor, facing the street. She lives alone, but the place is quite spacious.

There was a large old-fashioned refrigerator in the living room, and she had prepared some lemonade for Ron. On the table lay a copy of India Today, which looked freshly flipped through.

"Can you cook for yourself?" Ron saw that the room opposite was a small kitchen.

“Sometimes when it’s too late, I’ll prepare something to eat for myself.” Hela went into the bedroom and changed into a thin home shirt.

Ron was still looking at her apartment with admiration in his eyes, as if it were some extraordinary sight.

He had been in the apartments of many women: Mary and Lena, Kavia, and now Hela.

This is definitely a remarkable achievement in India. If the news gets out, the men on the street will be excited.

"Do you want to continue sitting here, or come to the study with me?" Hela looked at him with amusement.

"Study?" Ron stood up smoothly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"Let me show you my passport business." She tilted her head and motioned for Ron to follow.

Hey, aren't we going to the study? That's clearly the bedroom, right?
Ron's heartbeat quickened and he felt thirsty.

What should he do? If Hela goes straight, should he refuse?

Viraj wouldn't come riding on a horse to challenge me to a duel.

Ron was torn between his conscience and his desires, but Hela in front of him was getting impatient.

"Are you weak in the knees? Is a woman's bedroom so scary?" She chuckled.

Ron was angry, and his whole body began to harden, and some parts of his body even became erect.

When he strode into the bedroom door, Hela turned lightly, pushed open a door at the entrance, and then slipped in.

The door was inconspicuous and almost merged with the entrance.

Ron was stunned. Hela was the most outstanding woman he knew.

It goes without saying that there is no beautiful scenery inside, and it may really be related to the passport business.

Lowering your head slightly and turning into the narrow hidden door, the scene before you suddenly becomes clear.

This is indeed a "study" and it looks not much smaller than the living room outside.

The only drawback is the lack of windows. Lighting comes entirely from desk lamps, the kind that can be extended and adjusted in direction.

A long table served as a workbench, covered with a dizzying array of tools, most of which Ron didn't recognize.

With a click, Hela pressed a switch, and the room suddenly flashed with a dazzling white light.

Ron subconsciously raised his hand to cover himself, and after gradually adjusting to the situation, he realized that Hela was standing in front of some kind of light box-like device, looking at him with a smile.

"Come, let me introduce you to my passport office."

(End of this chapter)