I'm a Master in India

Chapter 251: Gunfight

As the overlords of Mirzapur, the Tripathi family naturally didn't lack thugs and lackeys.

With Maqbool's command, the entire small town began to stir.

Two or three hours later, as the sun rose, two to three hundred people had already gathered at the entrance of the manor.

Box after box of weapons were carried up and placed on the tables, mostly homemade pistols from the factory, with plenty of ammunition.

The elite troops, however, were uniformly equipped with imported weapons: AKs, submachine guns, automatic pistols... everything imaginable.

Seeing the tables piled high with pistols and ammunition, how could those ruffians, who usually only wielded knives, restrain themselves?

One by one, they excitedly stepped forward, grabbing and hugging, wishing they could take all the weapons with them.

Golden bullets scattered on the ground, and the long wooden tables were pushed askew.

They were all rabble, acting as if they had seen a woman without a sari upon seeing guns.

Bang! Maqbool fired a shot into the air.

The crowd immediately fell silent. They looked towards the manor gate, where the King of Mirzapur - Kalin - was slowly walking towards the steps.

"Twenty years ago, the Tripathi family mercifully pardoned Tiraka's sins. But the traitor was not grateful; he hid in a vile place, waiting for a chance to retaliate. Just yesterday, my son, Ram! He was ambushed by Tiraka's men and died in Changudari. Maqbool, bring the body up."

The male gunman's body was placed before everyone. Many old residents of Mirzapur recognized who he was.

"This time, the Tripathi family will not show mercy to the perpetrators!"

"Revenge! Revenge!" Everyone raised their guns and shouted.

Bang! Bang! Kalin fired two shots into the sky. "Sombhadra, move out!"

"Oh! Oh!" A group of people climbed onto the trucks with strange cries, then raised their guns and fired.

The crackling gunfire sounded like popping beans. The residents of Mirzapur stood on both sides of the streets, watching the convoy depart with expressionless faces.

In this land of Uttar Pradesh, especially the wild eastern part, there are gunshots every day.

Everyone was long used to it; even children had no sense of awe towards firearms, which were a part of their childhood.

Except for the necessary defensive forces, the Tripathi family almost came out in full force.

A full eight trucks roared southward. They didn't avoid others, brazenly crowding onto the highway.

It's a hundred kilometers from Mirzapur to Sombhadra. Before the Tripathi family's people even crossed the border, Tiraka received the news.

Having been entangled for so many years, both sides had long planted several informants in each other's strongholds.

Tiraka was well prepared. The moment he learned that Ram had been shot, he anticipated Kalin's reaction.

However, he didn't regret it. Last night, he celebrated grandly in the manor, almost getting completely drunk.

That was his most valued son, a hundred times stronger than that good-for-nothing Ram.

With Sombhadra in his hands, he could swallow Mirzapur within five years.

Tiraka once suspected that the Tripathi family feared his son too much, which was why they had planted explosives at the gunfight site beforehand, determined to kill him even at the cost of mutual destruction.

They knew Ram was no match, so they cleared the obstacles for him in advance.

Now it's good. You killed my best son, and I killed your only heir. We're even.

After listening to the informant's report, Tiraka hung up the phone and then waved his hand.

With the rumbling of trucks starting, the team that had long been ready immediately set off.

"What did the Sur family say?" Tiraka got into an SUV.

"They said they definitely wouldn't miss this good show," his assistant replied.

"Hmph, those cunning fellows, they won't act until they see the rabbit."

Since they were allies, there was no reason for Tiraka not to take advantage.

The two sides agreed that as long as war broke out, they would launch a pincer attack on the Tripathi family.

Honestly, Tiraka wasn't comfortable fighting alongside the Sur family's people.

His expectation for this 'ally' was simply that he wouldn't stab him in the back.

As for the fighting, Tiraka would handle it himself.

The mighty convoy kicked up a large cloud of dust as it headed north.

"Master! The Tripathi family's people have set off!" Muna ran over in a hurry from a distance.

"How many people do they have?" Ron asked.

"Eight trucks, at least three hundred people."

"Damn it, brother, luckily I listened to you and didn't go straight in, otherwise it would have been big trouble!" Ratan sucked in a breath as if he had a toothache.

"The foundation accumulated over several generations is naturally not something Crow and his men can compare to."

Ron also felt a bit of lingering fear. This King of Mirzapur truly couldn't be underestimated.

If it were just the two of their families clashing, no matter the final outcome, the losses would be heavy.

Now it's good. The two gang leaders from the north and south are having a gunfight, and they can completely watch from the sidelines.

As for allies and pincer attacks, just listen to it.

Ron just wanted to watch the show. The fiercer they fought, the better; it would be best if blood flowed like a river.

If the time was right, he wouldn't mind taking care of them all at once.

"What do you say, brother, shall we leave now?" Ratan was a bit impatient.

"Let's go, head south to transport coal," Ron said as he got into the back seat of an SUV.

This was a new vehicle Ratan had acquired, sturdy and durable, very suitable for the primitive dirt roads of Uttar Pradesh.

Behind the SUV were two vans, followed by heavy trucks used in the mine, a full dozen or more.

The truck beds were very high, making it impossible to see what was inside.

At first glance, they indeed looked like mining trucks going to haul coal.

This was Ron's idea; it could both cover their tracks and carry guns and ammunition.

The Sur Cement Factory had already obtained a coal mining permit from the state government and reached an agreement with Tiraka. Wasn't it perfectly reasonable to go transport coal?

The only drawback was that there were many newcomers in this group who hadn't handled guns much.

To put it bluntly, they were a mob.

There was no way around it; the quality of Indian soldiers, those who know, know.

Three people chased after several hundred.

Not only did the enemy not surrender, they dared to return fire at me?

Heh, let's just join in the fun.

The formation of more than a dozen dump trucks was very intimidating. The 'San Ge' who usually liked to climb onto vehicles didn't dare to step forward.

Ron and his SUV were the fastest, galloping freely across the plains of Uttar Pradesh.

They set off from northern Mirzapur, traversed the entire county, and then drove straight into Sombhadra in the south.

However! As the convoy reached the town of Mirzapur, the lead SUV suddenly turned and changed direction to the east.

There was a small copper factory there, some distance from the town, and it was usually difficult for outsiders to get close.

The Tripathi family would set up numerous sentries here. Except for familiar faces from inside, anyone who approached would be driven away.

Today was an exception, because most of the manpower had been transferred away by Kalin.

They were going to have a gunfight with Tiraka. The two sides had been fighting for decades, and this time it was serious; they couldn't be careless.

The guards who usually carried AK series submachine guns were absent; only a few older men were leaning by the factory gate, chewing betel nut with rifles on their backs.

The elites weren't here. That was truly wonderful!

Ratan directed the SUV to drive uphill, occupying a favorable position. Then, the dozen or so large trucks behind lined up in a single file at the factory gate.

The few guards stared blankly, completely unable to figure out what was happening.

They thought the trucks in front of them were Karim Bai returning with his men. Hadn't he just left not long ago?

The truck beds were very high; the few guards didn't notice anything unusual at all.

Some of them wanted to step forward to question, but at this moment, Ratan suddenly got out of the car.

Wearing sunglasses, he leisurely looked around for a few moments, then lit a cigarette as if no one else was there.

"Hey, what are you doing?" The guard took the rifle off his shoulder.

"Demolishing," Ratan blew out a smoke ring.

"What?"

He stopped talking nonsense, just turned his back to the trucks, and waved towards the factory.

Boom! Boom! The tailgates of the trucks lowered one after another.

Only then did the convoy reveal its ferocious side.

Dense muzzles pointed towards the factory. In the middle of each truck, there was a mounted Bren light machine gun.

The guard gasped, his eyes wide.

He wanted to shout, but it was too late!

Tat tat tat...

Intensive mechanical clatter exploded in their ears. More than a dozen trucks suddenly shot out streaks of orange-red fire.

The few guards at the main gate didn't even have time to react before they were riddled with holes.

Ruthless chains of fire tore through the air. In the factory yard, clumps of blood mist exploded as workers, guards... fell one after another.

Someone ran out of the workshop with a gun, but before they even got out the door, they were sent flying by the immense impact of the bullets.

There were clanging sounds everywhere, occasionally mixed with the shattering of glass and the screams of workers.

Some people wanted to rush out from the side, but the people in the vans had already surrounded the factory.

They were holding submachine guns. They didn't need to aim, just fire.

Whether they hit anyone was another matter; the important thing was to train their courage and see some blood.

Yes, many of these people were newcomers. Kalin's arsenal was their training target.

Only when no one else came out of the workshop did Ratan give another signal.

The light machine guns were raised, but they were still firing. Hundreds of people thus slowly approached the factory with overwhelming firepower.

With cover, experienced gunmen quickly cleared out the remaining enemies in the factory.

"Lord, it's all cleaned up," someone stepped forward to report.

"Take the bullets. As for the other junk, you can deal with it yourselves."

The crowd let out a cheer. This was their time to loot.

Don't look down on those crude homemade pistols; they could sell for a thousand rupees or so. That's a lot, isn't it?

Of course, the bodies lying on the ground were also searched as usual; there were always some loose rupees.

"It's about time," Ron said as he got out of the SUV.

"They won't finish fighting that quickly," Ratan shook his head indifferently.

"The town should have heard the gunshots from here. Just in case, let's finish quickly."

"Alright, alright, I'll listen to you," Ratan whistled.

Soon, his subordinates filed out of the factory, each carrying a full load of spoils, beaming with joy.

"Send this damned place to the sky," Ratan waved his hand, then got into the car.

The rumbling convoy started again. Not long after they left, an earth-shattering explosion came from behind.

The entire arsenal was engulfed in flames.

Ratan and his men didn't even need to prepare gunpowder; there was plenty in the arsenal.

This was perfect; make the best use of everything.

Taking down the Tripathi family's arsenal, Ron also breathed a sigh of relief.

How could such a place that continuously produced weapons be left for the enemy?

It was true that they promised Tiraka to launch a pincer attack, but there was no problem with taking care of the arsenal along the way, right?

Such a good opportunity wouldn't necessarily come again in the future.

The convoy continued its journey, and in just an hour, they were nearing the border of Sombhadra.

Suddenly, Ratan, who was wiping his gun, paused.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?" Ron turned his head.

"Gunshots!" Ratan patted the driver's seat in the front row. "Go to that high ground."

The closer one got to the east, the more common hilly areas became. Only in this kind of terrain would mineral deposits appear.

The SUV roared as it charged towards the small hill to the front right. Seeing this, the vans behind also followed.

The experienced Duo Ji didn't drive the car to the very top, but stayed slightly behind by half a car length, which could conceal their figures.

Ron and Ratan got out of the car, stepped forward two paces, and found the highest point of the hill.

The view before them suddenly opened up. On the flat ground, it was quite lively at the moment.

Two groups of people, one from the south and one from the north, ran into each other directly on the road.

When enemies meet, their eyes turn red with hatred.

What else was there to say? Just start fighting.

Using the irrigation ditch for the farmland as a boundary, the two groups, relying on bushes, slopes, and trucks as cover, were fighting fiercely.

"Brother, shall we charge down?" Ratan panted excitedly.

"Let's watch first, we..." Ron turned his head. "Wait, what are you holding?"

"This?" Ratan bounced the thing in his hands. "A Bren light machine gun. I didn't even get a chance to have my fill just now. It's potent."

"Brother, do you think you're a soldier charging into battle?" Ron was speechless.

Look at the other side, a battle with several hundred people, bullets flying everywhere. If you accidentally get hit, how big of a loss would that be?

"Those toys can't hurt me at all," Ratan said indifferently.

Eighty percent of the two groups currently engaged in the gunfight were shooting at each other with small pistols.

They might even be homemade pistols. AKs and submachine guns were only in the hands of the dozen or so most elite individuals.

Ratan was very direct. He immediately used the Bohemian Broadsword. He was ready to leave no one alive.

"Brother, I prepared two thousand rounds of ammunition. My aim is a bit off, but it should be enough," Ratan said confidently.

"No rush yet. At least wait until they decide a winner," Ron pulled him back.

If a third party suddenly appeared at the gunfight site, they might be focused on by the other two.

The relationship between the Sur family and them was very subtle. The Tripathi family hadn't completely fallen out yet, and Tiraka wasn't trustworthy.

The safest method was for the two sides to fight, and the fisherman would benefit.

Letting them fight for a while longer, consuming more manpower, would also be good.

The two squatted on the mountaintop, quietly watching the gunfight.

Both sides suffered casualties. Bodies lay everywhere in the farmland and small ditches.

A rough count showed about a hundred bodies. This might be the result of the submachine guns when the two sides first met.

But now, everyone was acting very cautiously.

"Damn it, they've been fighting for half a day and I haven't seen many people fall. Are they flirting with each other?" Ratan cursed angrily.

"Sigh, they're all good-for-nothings!" Ron also sighed.

Presumably, the initial brutality scared both sides, and now they were acting very timidly.

They were cautious with each other, and it was a stalemate. It looked like hundreds of people were fighting fiercely, but in reality, it was just amateurs pecking at each other.

Many people didn't aim at all when firing, just emptied a magazine and were done.

Take the AKs, for example. The gunmen held them over their heads, hid behind cover, and then swept them sideways randomly.

The bullets all went into the farmland. With splattering sounds, mud splashed high, but the actual damage was zero.

Not to mention the homemade pistols. The people firing them were all gritting their teeth, extending their arms far out, and desperately pulling their heads back.

They were afraid the guns would explode, so they could only keep their vital parts far away from where they were firing.

After firing a few rounds, they would howl while reloading, as if the battle was extremely fierce.

With their way of fighting, they might not decide a winner even by dark.

"Let me do it!" Ratan raised the machine gun and aimed.

Tat! Tat! Tat! Tat...

Heavy, dense, and extremely oppressive muffled sounds came. The ditch between the warring sides seemed to have been hit by artillery shells, with mud and water splashing more than ten meters high.

Violent metal clashing sounds and the hissing of bullets tearing through the air sent chills down people's spines.

The sudden change scared both warring sides into lying motionless on the ground.

"What's going on?" Ron turned his head.

Ratan was also staring down dumbfounded. He hadn't fired at all.

No, he hadn't had time to fire yet.

A light Bren machine gun didn't sound like that, nor did it have such power.

The two, realizing what was happening, immediately lay down and then looked around.

"Over there!" Ron pointed with his hand.

To the east, another mighty convoy charged out from the dust.

That wasn't an ordinary convoy. They had uniform standardized paint schemes, and heavy machine guns were mounted on their roofs.

Ron and Ratan exchanged glances, both seeing the solemnity in each other's eyes.