I'm a Master in India

The Sul Slum is gone. What "King of Demolition" Ke'erna couldn't achieve was easily resolved by a promise from Ron.

No one is born liking to live in a Slum, and one of the greatest fears of Mumbai residents is being homeless.

If there were brick buildings to live in, who would want to cram into a stinking Slum?

Just stirring up some trouble, that's nothing for the people of the Slum.

Taking over the Karma Courtyard's territory is even less of a problem; they were fighting for themselves.

In Mumbai, even children have learned how to fight for more space.

More importantly, once you've gained it, you must guard it well and never be pushed out, or someone will immediately snatch away the space that originally belonged to you.

Karma Courtyard is already packed, and even when construction workers wanted to create more single rooms, those people were unwilling to leave.

They value the houses here more than their lives, simply because that small room can be inherited by the next generation.

From then on, they were no longer Mumbai's vagrants; they had completed a class leap, transforming from the proletariat into property owners.

That is something countless people dream of, and only by guarding it constantly can they feel at ease.

Of course, the things weren't free; the people here will follow Ron's lead from now on.

From votes to proxy rights, including the next Laforda.

Doing business in a place like Mumbai, you must have the power to restrain others.

Not to cause trouble, but simply to ensure you aren't troubled by others.

The 30,000 people in Karma Courtyard were all entrusted by Ron to Amor, with Anand as his deputy.

The scale of a complete community would be difficult for Anand's abilities to handle.

Amor is knowledgeable and driven, making him very suitable to be the manager here.

Karma Courtyard is a test for him; if he does well, transferring back to Sur Electrical Appliances to become part of management is inevitable.

There's no need to say how to choose between a property manager and a company manager.

It's just too chaotic, especially now. Converting five buildings into thousands of single rooms is a massive project.

Relying solely on workers isn't enough; some Slum residents simply discussed it among themselves and then used plywood as dividers.

Amidst this clanging noise, 30,000 people quickly squeezed into the buildings.

Don't doubt the traditional skills of indian people; fitting seven or eight people into one room is a common practice.

The next steps are registering the population and planning toilets; Ron doesn't care about these trivial matters at all.

He only needs to control a few key managers; this is a basic quality for a leader.

He is more concerned about the planning of the Sur Industrial Park; after the Slum was removed, the surrounding wasteland was fenced off.

Construction will likely begin next month. First the office building to the west, then the factory area to the south, proceeding step by step.

The 200 million rupee loan from the Mumbai Bank has arrived, and he can't wait.

Oh dear, he has unknowingly accumulated a massive debt of 400 million rupee, but Ron feels good about it.

The one who owes money is the boss; no need to panic.

Ron even planned to buy a villa on Malabar Hill; he had this intention long ago, but was held back by a series of events.

After wandering around the wasteland of the Sur Industrial Park, Ron was preparing to meet with a bank president, but Johnny came looking for him.

"Ron!" He wanted to come over and hug him, but stopped himself, feeling ashamed.

"Let's go, grab a drink," Ron patted his shoulder.

Anand's past words resurfaced in his mind, and Ron also had many questions.

They found a restaurant and sat down, signaling the waiter for two servings of drinks and dishes. The two remained silent, waiting for the drinks to arrive.

Then, they each poured their drinks and raised their glasses.

"To friendship!" Ron proposed.

"To friendship!" Johnny echoed.

They clinked glasses and drank it all in one gulp.

"You didn't tell me," Ron said.

"What?"

"You didn't tell me about meeting Anand that night," Ron stared at him.

"I'm sorry, Ron," a look of pain appeared on Johnny's face.

"Is his imprisonment related to you?"

"No! That was a complete coincidence, I swear!" The pain on Johnny's face deepened; it was the heartache of their friendship being questioned.

"Why didn't you tell me? With just a phone call, I could have gotten him out."

"I couldn't," Johnny tightened his grip on the wine glass, "at least not then. Hadd Bai was making a very crucial deal."

Ron looked at him without speaking. That calm gaze pierced the heart more directly than any torture.

"Mrs. Elizabeth was assisting Hadd Bai in meeting political figures at the time to gain their favor. That connection was crucial, it was about... in short, they had an agreement."

"Mrs. Elizabeth hates me, but can't do anything about me, so she can only target the people around me. Does she want to make me suffer to vent her hatred?"

"She is that kind of person, extreme and paranoid," Johnny sighed.

"So Hader Khan knew all along, the answer I had been desperately searching for over a month?"

Johnny didn't speak, but his furrowed brows said it all.

"To Mumbai!" Ron raised his glass.

"To Mumbai," he said with a sad expression.

Tilting his head back, he drained the glass, Ron put down the glass, and got up to leave.

In a city like Mumbai, friendship is a luxury.

Ron didn't know what kind of deal Hader Khan and Mrs. Elizabeth had; he wasn't interested.

With The Palace becoming ruins, none of that is important anymore.

Johnny's arrival might be a test; that underground black emperor couldn't possibly be indifferent to the destruction of The Palace.

He was probably surprised by the riots Ron could orchestrate; that was a force more terrifying than gangs.

Ron didn't care, and he didn't have time to argue with that black boss right now. He was busy with something else: buying a house.

The apartment in the Fort District was too old and not big enough; Anil and the others could only live in the basement.

Having taken on multi-million dollar projects, there was no reason to inconvenience himself anymore.

Ron planned to do it in one go, directly choosing Mumbai's most prosperous wealthy area, Malabar Hill.

Looking at the map, this is the bay area of South Mumbai. Its shape resembles the handle of a spoon or a curved knife handle; it is embraced by the sea, the surface of the sea glitters with golden light, and the coast is lush with palm trees.

Malabar Hill is located here, with beautiful bays, murmuring streams, rushing rivers, and undulating hills.

Its south and west sides are completely unobstructed; you can see the vast Arabian Sea just by stepping outside.

The sea breeze blows from the west, bringing instant coolness, and the chaotic smells of the downtown area are completely absent here.

This is the best location in Mumbai; the scenery, culture, and environment are truly exceptional.

The villa Ron was interested in is located at the southernmost tip of the bay, surrounded by quiet woods and lawns, with security personnel on patrol.

The villa gate is three meters high, entirely carved from white marble, very grand. As soon as a visitor arrives, the gate automatically slides open to the left, revealing a short driveway leading directly to the main hall.

Entering the gate, there are garden lawns on both the left and right sides, surrounded by carefully designed water features.

There are golf holes on the lawn, as well as tennis courts and badminton courts, all maintained by dedicated staff.

There are expensive potted plants on either side of the entrance hall, and the ceiling of the main hall is almost filled with crystal chandeliers, which are also embedded with smaller chandeliers.

Everything looks sparkling, from the decor to the furnishings, very indian style.

The main body of the entire villa alone has over a dozen rooms, not counting the staff quarters in the garden outside.

Not to mention various functional rooms, there is also a private home theater and an underground wine cellar.

Ron's favorite is the rooftop terrace, where he can overlook Chowpatty Beach. If paired with whiskey, it would make all indian people jealous.

20 million rupee, he took it down without a second thought.

This was the price after Mumbai's housing prices plummeted, a full 40% lower than before the bombing.

It is said that the original owner was an indian expatriate who returned home, but was scared away again by last year's unrest.

Very good, Ron was very satisfied with this villa.

Without any hesitation, he signed the contract on the spot.

There's no concept of installments when buying a house in India; everyone defaults to paying in full.

Of course, Ron had money in his account. After two or three months, the profits of Sur Electrical Appliances had grown steadily.

The net profit alone was 120 million rupee, but this money had to be kept as the budget for the Sur Industrial Park.

The 20 million for the house was still a loan, taken out in his personal name. His face was very effective at the bank now.

The Sur Industrial Park plan hyped by the media was the best pass. The bank didn't even verify his assets and directly issued the loan.

Since that's the case, the bank's money, why not spend it?

"Niya, arrange for someone to clean this place today, and we'll stay here tonight."

"Yes, Baba," the little girl replied clearly.

She was like a happy butterfly, looking around the villa here and there.

The manor in Uttar Pradesh was grand, but she preferred the modern villa.

It was open and bright here; standing at the entrance, you could feel the pleasantness of the gentle breeze.

Over twenty servants were being directed around by Niya; some were old staff from Uttar Pradesh, others were newly hired servants from Mumbai.

Anil also took the bodyguards to familiarize themselves with the terrain; they would live in the staff quarters from now on and no longer need to squeeze into the basement.

When one person achieves success, even their dependents benefit.

In Mumbai, servants also take pride in their Master.

"Hey, brother!"

Just as Ron was figuring out how to decorate the villa, Luca suddenly showed up.

"You pulled off something big recently, it's damn cool! But I have to tell you, our business is also damn finished!" He was aggressive, his brows tightly furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Ron walked with him onto the lawn.

"The drug business is finished," he looked very bad, his face haggard, "There's a problem in Brazil."

"Your brother's matter?" Ron suddenly understood.

Since Anand and the others went out to sea last year, the drug business had stalled.

There were other forces competing with Luca and his group in Brazil; they were sourcing goods from New Delhi, taking a different route.

At first, the two sides could coexist peacefully, but as the competition intensified, a shootout was almost inevitable.

"My brother is dead, my family fled to South Africa, we're finished!" Luca's eyes were red, and his teeth ground together.

"Hey, brother, I'm sorry to hear that, but what are you planning to do now?" Ron also had a bit of a headache.

Things were as he expected; it was hard for this lucrative business not to attract the covetousness of others.

In a godforsaken place like Brazil, gangs run rampant, and the government has no presence at all.

Fortunately, he didn't invest much capital; the downside was the loss of a stable dollar channel.

"I can't go back to Brazil, so I want to do another business," Luca stared at him with burning eyes.