I'm a Master in India

Screech!

The tires dragged long black marks on the road.

"Just a dog, right?" Chada turned his head and asked, "It's a dog, right?"

Was it a dog? Ron didn't hear any sound when he stopped the car, not even a whimper or a bark.

Everyone understood the fate of the thing that was hit.

"I think... maybe I should get out and take a look," Ron really couldn't remain indifferent.

"No, it's just a dog!" Ratan suddenly interrupted him.

The streetlights were dim, and the thing was a dark pile, far behind, making it impossible to see what it was.

There were no other cars around except the following Civic, not even a single person.

"Ratan, you are more sensible than your younger brother." Chada gave Ron a meaningful look.

Chada got out of the car, but he didn't bother with the small dark shape that had been hit behind them.

Ratan also acted in tacit understanding, pulling Ron from the passenger seat of the Cadillac.

The driver from the back seat quickly slid into the driver's seat, his movements smooth and fluid.

"Vijay, you were driving from beginning to end tonight, understand?" Chada instructed him threateningly.

"Yes, Mr."

The driver was trembling, but still agreed immediately.

"The party tonight was very enjoyable, now I'm tired, let's talk another day."

Bang!

Bang!

Two sounds, the Cadillac doors closed, and then it shifted to the highest gear and sped away.

"Don't just stand there like a fool, let's go too." Ratan pushed Ron into the Civic and jumped into the car himself.

Ishan didn't waste a second, also shifted to the highest gear, and sped away.

They were all qualified drivers and knew how to handle this kind of thing.

Ron sat silently in the back seat, the dark shape still lingering in his mind.

"That wasn't a dog just now, was it? I saw it." After the car had driven two streets, he finally spoke.

"God knows what these kids are doing running around the streets of Delhi at one in the morning, it's their parents' fault!" Ratan cursed.

"Is that child already..." Ron couldn't say the word.

"The child didn't make any sound at all, master, not a single movement, and his body didn't move either." Anil in the front seat said.

"We..." Ron stopped speaking mid-sentence, suddenly pausing.

A Buddha head appeared outside the car window to his left, it turned out to be a young beggar holding a plaster Buddha statue and walking up to the car to sell it.

They were waiting at a traffic light, and the countdown timer ahead still showed thirty seconds.

There was nothing strange about this; in Delhi every night there were many beggars on the roadside selling books, statues, or boxes of strawberries.

"Do you like that Buddha statue?" Ratan asked.

"No, I was just surprised."

"Yes, it's an unlucky night, we need to confess to Buddha."

Ratan called out to the young beggar, "Bring it over and let me see."

It was unclear whether the young beggar was a boy or a girl, you could never tell their gender, but in any case, the young beggar put the Buddha statue into the Civic.

Ratan handed over ten rupee, then picked up the Buddha statue and muttered a few times, "Om!

Om!

Om!"

He was praying in a hindu way, but holding a Buddha statue in his hand.

It was also unknown if Buddha and the hindu deities had any connection and if they could hear Ratan's prayer.

The green light turned on, Ishan stepped on the accelerator, and continued to speed away.

"So, it's like that child just now?" Ron had some realization.

"People who live under overpasses and flyovers, young master, that's what I thought too." Ishan said.

"Will anyone look for him?"

"I don't think so, young master.

You know those country people from the villages, they have eight, nine, or even ten children, sometimes they can't even keep track of their children's names.

Even if his parents are also in Delhi, even if they know where he was tonight, they won't go to the police." Ishan was very certain.

Ratan put his arm around Ron's shoulder and then signaled Ishan to shut up with his eyes.

"Brother, you're tired.

Now go upstairs, take a shower, and get a good night's sleep."

The car stopped downstairs at Buckingham Tower apartment building, and Anil took Ron upstairs.

Ratan and Ishan stayed behind, they were going to get water to wash the car.

The dark shape was hit by the Cadillac, but the Civic was following closely, right behind it.

To ensure there was nothing suspicious on the car, they had to wash it thoroughly inside and out.

Ishan carefully wiped down the car body from head to tail, and then found bloodstains and flesh on the tires.

He wiped it off bit by bit, very carefully, completely lying on the ground.

"How is it?" Ratan asked.

Ishan showed him a piece of bloody green cloth strip stuck to the wheel.

"This kind of cloth is cheap stuff, master.

This piece of green cloth," he twisted the cloth strip with his fingers, "is usually used to make clothes for children."

"Cheap stuff."

Ratan breathed a sigh of relief.

"No one will care, too many children go missing in India every day."

"That's true."

The next day, Delhi was calm, the streets were still filled with exhaust fumes, and the sun still looked hazy.

Chada called and said everything was taken care of.

The judge had been taken care of, and his driver had also signed a statement.

As long as Ron didn't talk nonsense, everyone could rest easy.

Drivers in India often encounter this kind of thing, just taking the blame, nothing strange.

Ron didn't want to stay in New Delhi anymore, he wanted to finish things early.

As usual, the road was congested, with a large group of thin, dirty people on both sides.

Some of them were squatting on the ground, waiting for the bus to take them elsewhere.

Some had nowhere to go, so they took out their mats, spread them on the ground, and lay down to sleep.

Children were chirping and running around playing on the grass, their parents completely ignoring them, not even caring if one was added or one was missing.

They came from the backward countryside to the big city looking for light, but after going around in circles, they were still living in darkness.

It looked like there were about a few hundred people on both sides of the line of cars, and the traffic jam seemed to have no effect on them at all.

Ron withdrew his gaze from outside the car window; inside and outside the car were two different worlds.

"I hope we can get everything done today, I can't wait to go back to Uttar Pradesh." Ratan was idly tossing a bullet.

"You don't like New Delhi either?"

"No, I don't.

It's so troublesome when someone dies here.

Lawyers, judges, it's too much hassle."

Alright, Ron shouldn't have asked him.

Today they were not going to the Indian National Congress headquarters, but to the Presidential Palace, the residence of the Maharashtra Chief Minister was nearby.

The car drove up Raisina Hill, stopping several times along the way for inspection by sentries, and finally stopped in front of a domed building near the Presidential Palace.

Ron and Ratan got out of the car, carrying bags in their hands.

A bald-headed fat man greeted them at the entrance, Ron took a careful look.

It was him, alright.

This person looked very much like the Maharashtra Minister Sharad Pawar, most likely someone from the same family.

They found the right person, this fat man was Minister Pawar's assistant.

He was also the usual middleman, they were all senior relatives of politicians, as well as confidantes from the same village or caste.

It was Ron's first time dealing with the Maharashtra Minister; before a deep friendship was established, the middleman was responsible for relaying messages.

This could avoid the awkwardness of officials personally soliciting bribes, and there was room to maneuver if problems arose.

It has to be said, the Maharashtra Minister's methods were much more refined than Uttar Pradesh's Yadav.

The former still maintained some reserve, while the latter was no different from a bandit.

The first time Ron met Yadav, he was asked to "increase the price."

"Mr. Sur, I didn't expect you to personally make a trip to New Delhi." The fat man greeted him with a chuckle.

"This is a big project, it must be personally reviewed by the Minister.

Is he available now?"

"Perhaps I can go in and ask." He stared at Ron's wrist.

"Do you think the Minister is optimistic about the Sur Industrial Park plan?"

"I think he should be optimistic, it's just... he's still a bit hesitant, someone needs to persuade him, someone close and influential."

Without a word, Ron unclasped his wristwatch and personally put it on the fat man's wrist.

"Oh dear, Mr. Sur, you shouldn't, you shouldn't!"

"Look, it fits perfectly!" Ron grabbed his shiny wrist and shook it.

"Really?" The fat man's face lit up with joy, the golden sunlight reflecting on his face, his greasy sweat glistening.

"Of course, it suits you better than me.

It's just about the Sur Industrial Park, I still need you to say a few good words."

"Oh, you've really made things difficult for me."

The fat man happily raised his wrist and gestured a couple of times, then very decisively went into the study to announce their arrival.

Ratan wanted to say something, but Ron shook his head at him.

About five minutes later, the fat man returned and gave Ron and the others a wink.

"Just give the bag to me."

"We've troubled you, let's have a drink when we return to Mumbai another day."

Ron handed him the red travel bag in his hand, it was heavy and weighty.

Besides the bag, there was also a paper envelope, which was left specifically for the fat man.

"The Minister greatly appreciates your Sur Industrial Park plan, Mr. Rahul also called a few days ago."

Alright, this sentence was enough.

As soon as he entered the study, Ron saw a dark, bald head sitting behind the desk.

After seeing his face clearly, a TV character suddenly popped into Ron's mind, Duan Yanqing.

Yes, it was a certain actor surnamed Ji from the Heavenly Dynasty, Teacher Ji.

Maharashtra Minister Pawar probably looked like that, the Indian version of Duan Yanqing.

He raised his head and smiled, that kind of ugly smile.

"Please sit, Mr. Sur."

"Excuse me, Your Excellency the Minister."

Ron sat down, then took out documents from his briefcase, the development plan for Sur Electrical Appliances, the projected increase in future investment, the layout plan for Sur Industrial Park...

Giving money alone is not enough, you also need a reliable project proposal.

These Ministers in South India are somewhat different from those in North India; they also love money.

But they hope more that the areas they govern can achieve tangible development.

To put it simply, Southern politicians embezzle public funds, but they also work hard to make the cake bigger.

North Indian politicians, on the other hand, take as much of the cake as they can, and in the blink of an eye, others can't even see the crumbs.

So unlike talking about money directly with Yadav, Ron was prepared to first talk about his grand plan.

However, Minister Pawar spoke first.

"Mr. Sur, I heard you have a good relationship with Thackeray."

Huh?

Ron was taken aback, this seemed a bit different from what he had expected.