I am a master in India

Chapter 97 Crazy City
With a loud bang, the whole of Mumbai seemed to be split into two, and people began to fight.

The procession, which had just dispersed a short distance away, reunited under the waving of the Shiv Sena flag.

Rafiq shouted, unleashing a barrage of inflammatory curses. Someone handed him a microphone, and his outbursts echoed throughout the Colaba neighborhood.

Under his command, the crowd began to stir. First, stones and pork flew everywhere, then fists and feet began to fight, and conflict inevitably broke out.

Amor's whistle was completely useless, and his men did not dare to directly intervene in the mad crowd.

The unrest slowly spread outward like ripples, and more and more people were swept up in it.

Ron had never seen such a scene. Men and women on the street grabbed anything that could be used as a weapon and rushed towards the temple gate and the crowd of people.

Wooden sticks, coconuts, milk tea cups, flying cakes. These ordinary objects originally found on the stalls have now all become weapons.

The Rafiq got a gas canister from somewhere, walked through the crowd, turned the valve, lit a match, and pushed the canister into the temple gate.

"Boom!" A louder bang exploded beside their ears, and Ron and the others instinctively lowered their bodies, holding their heads. Crash! The glass of Leopold's Bar shattered.

When they looked up again, the temple gate was gone and one of the four minarets was missing.

The crowd outside suddenly cheered, and Rafiq raised his fist like a victorious general. The hidden people looked at each other with hatred, as if they were choosing someone to devour.

"God, is there a civil war in Bombay?" Dirang's voice trembled slightly.

Viraj was silent, Hela and Kavya were pale, and their carefully styled hairstyles were messed up by the shock wave of the explosion.

"It's time to go. If we don't leave now, we might get into trouble." Ron looked towards the street with an expression of pity.

There was a Mumin woman being dragged into the crowd, her clothes being stripped off, and men surrounding her one after another.

"Ron." Kaavia grabbed his arm tightly, her grip trembling.

"I'll take you home." Ron put his arm around her shoulders and patted her gently.

“Drive my motorcycle.” Viraj threw a key over.

"What about you?" Ron asked.

“I’ll take Hela.” Viraj winked at him.

Well, this guy is still thinking about picking up girls at this time.

"Look!" Di Rang's frightened cry attracted several people.

At the collapsed temple gate, a man on fire first stood up, then fell down. He tried to escape, but fell again, then stood up and continued to run.

Oil dripped from the man's body, leaving only two holes for his eyes, which then grew larger and larger. He bumped into the stone wall, and his white bones were immediately exposed.

More and more oil dripped from his body, dripping down like water, exposing his bones. After staggering a few steps, the figure fell down.

This time he couldn't get up, his arms stretched out in the air in a strange position. The sizzling sound of the oil was exactly the same as the sizzling sound in the frying pans of the street vendors.

Ron was horrified, Hela vomited directly, and Kaavia's face was full of tears.

"Let's go!" He grabbed Kavya's hand and rushed towards Viraj's motorcycle without looking back.

The people in this city have gone crazy. The porters and coolies who used to be honest and kind now seem to have turned into demons.

Mumbai, a crazy city.

Starting the motorcycle, Ron took Kavia south along the seaside avenue, preparing to take a detour to the fortress area.

At this time, don't go to crowded places, and small streets and alleys are not the first choice. The wide seaside avenue is more reassuring.

The sea mist in the sky burned on the sea surface like fire. Ron rushed into the tunnel of light against the sea breeze, and the sunset robe slipped from the shoulders of the city.

Kavia hugged Ron's strong waist and back tightly with both hands, and her fingers moved up and down unconsciously, like the sea water constantly hitting and surging.

If it were usual, there would be a romantic atmosphere, but now the two of them had no time to care about anything else.

The scene at Leopold's Bar played over and over in their minds. Kaavia had her eyes closed the entire time, her cheek pressed against Ron's back, not moving.

Slowly, the sea breeze brushing against her cheeks softened. Kavya opened her eyes and saw the motorcycle slowing down.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Can you drive a motorcycle?"

"what?"

"I have to stop. If things don't go right later, just drive away on your motorcycle and don't worry about me."

"Wait, what happened?"

Ron didn't answer. He stopped the motorcycle, but the engine was still running. After handing the handlebars to Kavya, Ron walked to the side of the road not far away.

There was a group of people surrounding another person, and they were pouring gasoline on the person in the middle, a lot of gasoline. The bicycle was tilted to the side of the road, and the freshly baked bread in the basket was scattered all over the ground.

"Please, let me go! I still have children, I still have children!"

"When you set fire to the Lada tube-shaped building, did you ever think about your children?" Angry curses were heard from the crowd.

"Dharmendra!" Ron shouted. "What are you doing?"

The young man holding the gasoline barrel paused, turned around and saw Ron. He avoided his gaze awkwardly, then felt a little embarrassed and annoyed.

"He's a Mukden!" Dharmendra shouted, pointing at the middle-aged man. "So what? Haven't you tried the bread he makes? You pass by his stall every day, have you forgotten?"

“But they killed Hindus, an entire family!”

"Then go find the murderer. What does this have to do with Uncle Mohara?"

The crowd fell silent, and Dharmendra lowered his head. Ron took the opportunity to step forward and snatch the matches from his hand.

"Go home now, Tiggy is waiting for you. You must have sneaked out, right?" Ron slapped him on the neck.

“I” Dharmendra’s momentum became even weaker.

"And you!" Ron glared at the others. "My foreign guests are frightened, and you're helping them. Do you think you're making too much rupees?"

Dharmendra is a resident of the Tej Ali slum. He usually helps Ron run errands, such as booking taxis or buying tickets.

In short, he lived off Ron. He was a laid-off worker, but after getting this job, he was able to support his family of eight.

The same goes for the other young people. Although they are not employees of Ron's company, they usually receive favors from him to some extent.

Ron is already very famous in this area. Everyone knows that he is capable, knows important people, and is very generous to his subordinates.

Now that they had been beaten and scolded by him, they all became more sober unconsciously, and their minds were no longer filled with thoughts of violence.

"Hurry up and leave! The patrol police are arresting people all over the street!" After Ron threatened them a few times, the group of young people ran away in shame.

The sect's legacy is truly poisonous. The young man who used to be so well-behaved has now easily lost his mind.

"Uncle Mohara" Ron looked at the middle-aged man who was still trembling and crying.

He was also an acquaintance, selling bread near Victoria Station. Ron, Dharmendra, and the others would often buy bread from him.

Their relationship was more than just friendship, but sectarian conflict shattered it.
"I still have children. I still have children." Mohara cried bitterly, and the gasoline on his body flowed along the road and into the grass.

"No one will hurt your child. Now go home and hide. Don't open the door to anyone."

Mohara looked up at him and nodded silently after a long while.

"Let's go, it's getting dark." Ron took out 200 rupees from his wallet and handed it to him, then picked up the bicycle and packed the bread scattered on the ground.

"Ron, you are a good man" Mohara started crying again, even more sad than before.

"I bought the bread." Ron waved goodbye to him.

Mohara rode away on his bicycle. He didn't dare to take the main road, so he had to take a detour through the fields to get home.

Ron looked at his back with a complicated expression. He actually hated the whole sect thing.

In his heart, he even hated Mumin even more because he had read a lot of news in his previous life.

But most ordinary people are innocent and don't see it. But seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn't remain indifferent.

Just half an hour ago, he saw what happened to a man on fire. Moreover, he knew both parties involved in the conflict.

Kavya didn't leave, she was waiting not far behind.

"Ron," she said admiringly.

"Fortunately, my identity as the boss is still useful." Ron also breathed a sigh of relief.

Who knows if the person blinded by religious hatred still has any sanity left. His actions just now were not without risk.

If it was an unrelated passerby, Ron would never stop.

The motorcycle started again, and before it got completely dark, the two finally entered Kavya's apartment.

The first thing Ron did when he got there was to pick up the phone and call Nia, telling her not to open the door until he returned.

The city has lost its order and the police are completely ineffective. No, to be more precise, they are even condoning it.

As far as he knew, there were a lot of Hindus in the Indian police force, and they would always take sides whenever there was a conflict between the two sides.

Despite this, Ron still called the police he was familiar with and asked them to take care of his territory.

It’s okay for both sides to fight, but don’t destroy your own store.

There was a noise and fire downstairs. The two went to the window and saw that a small shop owned by the Mumin had been looted. They did not stop there, but set fire to the shop before leaving.

Then the frantic crowd continued to move on to the next place they had marked. Long before the action, they had already checked which store was run by the Mumin and which house was inhabited by the Mumin.

It was obvious that this was a premeditated action and the riots were far from over.

"It's too dangerous outside, you can't leave." Kavya said seriously.

Well, Ron didn't really want to leave. He was also afraid of what would happen if someone mistook him for a member of the secret service.

Although his home was less than three kilometers away, Ron was not prepared to take the risk.

He turned to look at Kavia's apartment. There was only a bed, and the desk that took up the rest of the room automatically ruled out sleeping on the floor as an option.

What to do? At this moment, Ron actually felt that the broken desk was so beautiful and placed just right!
PS: That’s all for today. From now on, there will be more updates every day until the end of the month!

(End of this chapter)