I'm a Master in India

Anand entered the passage, and after only a couple of steps, there was a sharp turn to the right. His intuition told him the path ahead would be difficult.

Several prison guards prodded his back with batons, urging him forward.

He staggered into the archway and turned right. Along both sides of the long corridor stood about twenty people, each holding a bamboo stick.

Anand had never been to prison, but he knew what this meant.

Before reaching the iron gate at the end of the corridor, the people on this path would try their best to torture him.

Whipping, clubbing, kicking left and right... The best way was to run quickly and shorten the time of punishment.

Sadly, he was numb all over now, and even walking was unbearable.

Fear made his mouth dry, and hatred was suffocating.

He walked slowly forward. The people wore white shirts and white shorts, white hats, and thick black leather belts around their waists.

The brass buckles on the belts were stamped with numbers and titles; the title was Cell Warden.

Warden, this system was inherited from the British colonial era's police system.

Murderers and other habitual offenders serving long sentences were sentenced to at least fifteen years. For the first five years of their sentence, they were ordinary inmates. For the second five years, they would receive partial privileges and could work in the kitchen, laundry, prison industries, and cleaning crews.

During the third five-year period, they would often be promoted to Warden, receiving the hat, belt, and bamboo stick, thus gaining power over life and death.

Yes, these Wardens in front of Anand were all inmates.

Prison guards rarely intervened in the daily operations of the prison. Routine schedules, order, and discipline were the responsibility of the Wardens, including beatings.

Two rows of murderers, who had transformed into prison guards, waited on both sides of the corridor to 'serve' Anand.

They raised their sticks, their eyes fixed on him, ready for Anand to charge through, depriving them of the pleasure of beating someone until they cried out in pain.

Anand did not run; he couldn't run.

He limped forward, step by step.

The bamboo sticks swung down, landing with cracks on his arms, legs, and back, instantly breaking the skin.

Some hit his head, neck, and face. Their strong arms struck with maximum force, the bamboo sticks landing on his bare skin.

The pain was like being burned by red-hot metal and the stinging sensation of an electric shock.

The ends of the bamboo sticks were frayed, leaving extremely fine cuts wherever they landed.

Blood flowed from his face and bare arms.

Anand was crying, muttering to himself.

He continued to walk forward, step by step.

When the sticks hit his face and ears, he would twitch uncontrollably.

His steps were neither fast nor slow, his hands remained at his sides, tightly gripping his dirty trousers.

At first, the attack was like a storm, but as he walked further in, fewer and fewer sticks landed on him.

By the time he was close to the end of the corridor, the attacks had almost stopped.

They were wondering why this guy wasn't dodging or flinching.

The people in the two rows in the corridor stopped their actions and watched him.

"I'm a good person... I wanted to be a good person, Ron Baba..."

Sobs and whispers echoed in the corridor, blood blurred his eyes, everything was a bloody red.

...

"Still no news?"

"No, Mr., Alibaba has mobilized everyone to search," Rajiv replied.

"Have Ranjit also help inquire about rumors in the black market; their information is the most well-informed."

"Yes, Mr. Sur." Rajiv left worriedly.

Three weeks had passed, and Anand was still missing.

Ron had tried many methods. Ajay from the police station, Johnny from the gang, the black market, the Slums, he had inquired everywhere, but there was nothing.

If that group was really targeting him, or planning to ask for ransom, they should have contacted him long ago.

Yet, he had been back in Mumbai for so long and hadn't received any hints or calls, as if nothing had happened.

Ron could only actively search for people, including asking people from the leper Slum for help.

But now he wasn't even sure if he could still find Anand.

This was too unusual. If he had really been kidnapped, even during the transfer, there would have been clues left behind.

For example, the car that took him, his three meals a day, eating, drinking, and using the restroom – as long as he interacted with this city, he would definitely leave traces.

But there were none of these. What kind of place could achieve this?

Unless that group had a complete system for living supplies, independent of this city.

"Boss."

Amor knocked on the door.

"Come in." He snapped back to reality.

"That owner is asking for ten million rupee."

"If he can get those tenants to leave, ten million rupee is no problem," Ron scoffed.

He wanted to buy the land northeast of Sur Electrical Appliances, or more accurately, those few property buildings.

The plan for the Sur Industrial Park had already been approved by Naval, the Chief Minister of Maharashtra.

It was expected that the permits and approval process would be completed soon.

Since that was the case, Ron naturally had to find a way early to resettle the Slum residents on his land.

During this time, besides being busy with Anand's matter, he hadn't been idle either.

Ron was trying to acquire those old office buildings he had gone to see with Amor and the others earlier.

Unfortunately, the owner there heard that someone was willing to be a sucker and immediately asked for an exorbitant price.

Completely disregarding his own embarrassment over the years, being forced to use the dilapidated building to fight against tenants.

This was Mumbai businessmen, never missing an opportunity to fleece customers.

"Boss, do you want me to bring people to teach him a lesson?" Amor's eyes turned fierce.

He was not a pushover. The Baniya factory was destroyed under his hand back then.

"No need for that much trouble. Just tell him one million rupee, otherwise, prepare to be a landlord who never collects rent for the rest of his life."

"I'll go do it now."

"Wait," Ron called Amor back, "What are you planning to do with the tenants in the building?"

"Boss, don't worry, they'll move out obediently in less than a month."

Amor said a few words in a low voice, Ron smiled wryly, and waved him away.

An evil person needs an evil person to deal with them. Conventional methods cannot be used against deadbeat tenants.

That owner was also someone who bullied the weak and feared the strong. Just because there was a law firm in the building, he didn't dare to be tough.

For so many years, those small companies paid him a few dozen rupee every month and could brazenly occupy the building.

And he still had the nerve to ask for ten million rupee?

It was hard to say if his monthly rent combined even reached ten thousand rupee, but he really dared to think of ten million.

If it weren't for the fact that the Sur Industrial Park plan was about to be reported in the news, Ron wouldn't even want to give this one million.

He just didn't want to make it too ugly and become negative news.

Speaking of the Sur Industrial Park, this was also a big project.

According to the blueprint plan, if fully equipped, it would cost at least thirty million dollar.

Converted into rupee, it would be roughly around 900 million.

Of course, this is India. The employee community can be just okay. Sports fields, entertainment facilities, don't even think about those.

Sewage treatment and environmental facilities can also be completely cut. These things clash with India.

Removing these flashy things, the project cost can be reduced to 500 million rupee.

Ron didn't have that much money. In October last year, the liquid funds in the account were about 60 million.

It is now early February '94, and the total profit of Sur Electrical Appliances in these three months is 50 million.

Water air conditioners had a moderate profit margin, and it was winter, so there was no significant growth.

The cheaper electric fans, on the other hand, saw continuously rising sales, selling nearly one hundred and fifty thousand units in three months.

Since absorbing the Baniya electric fan factory, Sur electric fans have more styles, and the quality is also more reliable than before.

Although the selling price is only three to five hundred rupee, the profit margin barely maintains at the forty percent level.

But this type of appliance has a mature market and stable sales, and is considered a baseline product.

For the entire year last year, the profit of Sur Electrical Appliances was this much, barely reaching one hundred million rupee.

This was still far from the 500 million rupee budget for the Sur Industrial Park. Ron could only find ways from other places.

The travel agency sent over five thousand people to work in Persian Gulf countries last year, mostly on six-month visas.

On average, each person traveled abroad and returned a total of four times with the help of the travel agency.

The service fees alone amounted to forty million rupee. They also provided intermediary services for foreign workers, including housing, round-trip boat tickets, and bus tickets.

After deducting employee salaries and operating costs, the net profit was also around fifty million.

As for the travel company, let's not mention it. Those small amounts of money could only cover Ron's daily expenses.

Other smuggled drugs and drug trials made dollar, that couldn't be touched.

After a brief calculation, Ron's capital was only 150 million rupee.

What about the remaining 350 million? Loans!

With the endorsement of the Chief Minister of Maharashtra, the bank was no longer a barrier.

What was borrowing thirty million before? The bank had to listen to the Minister.

Although Indian banks and administration are two independent systems, the power of bank executives is actually very low.

Local officials applying a little pressure, and the bank would obediently grant the loan.

Coupled with the lack of supervision in the banking system, corruption was rampant.

As long as the kickbacks were appropriate, the bank manager wouldn't care if the borrower met the conditions.

With Ron's current social status, borrowing two to three hundred million rupee was easy.

See, most of the money for buying land and building the park was paid by the bank.

The mining and cement companies in Uttar Pradesh were similar operations.

Using money from state-owned banks to quickly acquire state-owned assets, this was a kind of oligarchic style.

Ron was already applying to Indian banks for this batch of loans, just waiting for the process to be completed before starting construction.

Calculating carefully, he already owed the bank four to five hundred million rupee, much more than his entire net worth.

Completely insolvent, he would have gone bankrupt in other countries long ago.

But this was India. When he applied for the loan, the bank didn't even check his asset situation.

Absurd, it was all a makeshift setup.

What could he say? Of course, he would enjoy the vested interests.

Hmm, Ron was planning to use the bank's money to buy himself another house.

He was still renting a place. The house in the Fort District was ultimately too old.

The real rich area in South Mumbai was near Malabar Hill.

If it weren't for Anand's matter, perhaps he would have already been looking for property.

He also wondered how Freida's family was doing. Ron planned to go see them.

As soon as he got up, the phone on the table rang.

"Ron, come to Bandra," it was Mary's voice.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"We found a clue about Anand's disappearance."