I'm a Master in India

Chapter 252: Ceasefire

“Is this the army?” Ron subconsciously lowered his voice.

“No, it's the State Armed Police Force.” Ratan stared fixedly below.

The convoy that had come a long way was extremely arrogant; they sped while firing, seemingly warning both sides not to act rashly.

One unlucky fellow was accidentally hit by a heavy machine gun; his entire body exploded directly, with arms, legs, and torso flying everywhere.

This terrifying scene instantly scared the wits out of the rabble.

They scattered and fled, screaming, ignoring even the commands barked from the microphone on the armed convoy.

Kalin and Tiraka also realized things were bad, quickly jumped into their cars, and drove away.

“Let's go too!” Ron immediately pulled Ratan back down the hill.

What a joke, this is the armed forces, not kids playing house.

“Damn, that was too exciting.” Ratan kept looking back.

The State Armed Police were scattering to pursue the gangsters; no one noticed them here.

“Why would the State Armed Police Force be deployed?” Ron's heart was beating fast.

“Who knows, maybe this scale was too big!”

“Has Uttar Pradesh ever had a shootout of this scale before?”

“No, this was a battle of five or six hundred people! Even anti-government forces don't have that many.”

“Damn, playing with violence is indeed very dangerous.” Ron also couldn't help but curse.

This is why he had always restrained himself from using violent means; India is, after all, a unified country.

No matter how many internal disagreements it has, or how many languages there are, or how vastly different the cultures are, unity is unity.

At least in terms of the army and government, this is the case; at times, it can reflect the will of the state.

This was only the State Armed Police Force; the so-called overlords and gangster bosses were like clay chickens and pottery dogs before it, collapsing rapidly.

In the future, we still need to plan long-term; right now, we're small and weak, not resistant to impact.

“Ron, what should we do next?” Ratan hadn't had his fill and was unwilling.

“Behave yourself for a while; that Mr. Yadav is probably going to lose his temper.”

Who in Uttar Pradesh can mobilize the armed forces? Of course, it's the Chief Minister.

Indeed, shortly after Ron returned to the cement plant, he received a call from Lucknow.

The tone of that Minister's assistant was quite unfriendly; in short, it was just one sentence: Ron should go to Lucknow immediately.

The news of the Tripathi family and Tiraka going to war finally alarmed Mr. Yadav.

Ron knew without guessing that Mr. Yadav was having him come for this matter.

The meeting place this time was not Mr. Yadav's private residence, but his Chief Minister's office.

He was wearing traditional Indian Kurta attire and a Gandhi cap shaped like a boat, looking very formal.

When Ron arrived, Kalin and Tiraka were already sitting there, both looking displeased.

Especially Kalin Tripathi, he was in his forties with a thick beard on his chin, looking quite imposing.

But his gaze, which seemed to want to devour people, ruined that sense of composure.

Clearly, he had already learned the news of the family's arms factory being destroyed and was now almost exploding with rage.

That was one of the Tripathi family's most profitable businesses, and now it had been completely turned upside down.

Yet, he couldn't determine who the culprit was for the time being, because there were no survivors in the factory, and even nearby witnesses couldn't be found.

But this wasn't important; the perpetrator was either Tiraka or the people from Varanasi in the north.

Besides these two factions, Kalin couldn't think of anyone else.

Perhaps it was Tiraka's strategy of luring the tiger out of its mountain lair, or perhaps the people from Varanasi seized the opportunity.

However, the biggest suspect was still Ron, because he wasn't present during the shootout.

So when Ron walked into the office, Kalin stared fixedly at him.

“Do the people from Varanasi only engage in sneak attacks?”

“What are you saying? I don't understand.” Ron frowned.

His acting was excellent, portraying that displeasure and confusion just right.

No one knew about this matter, and he couldn't admit it even if killed.

Anyway, you have no evidence, so guess whatever you want.

He ignored Kalin and instead greeted everyone with a smile and a namaste gesture, seemingly not noticing the heavy atmosphere here.

What did a gangster shootout have to do with him? He was just a passerby.

Kalin indeed couldn't speak openly, because the arms factory business couldn't be brought into the open; this was a major crime.

But he was unwilling and turned his gaze towards Tiraka.

However, before he could speak, Mr. Yadav surveyed everyone with an unfriendly gaze.

“Do you want to turn the eastern region upside down?”

No one spoke; the best way to express oneself at this moment was silence.

“Other places are busy harvesting sugarcane and mangoes, but you lot are having gunplay performances in the fields?”

“Mr. Minister...”

“Shut up!”

As soon as Tiraka opened his mouth, Mr. Yadav retorted.

“First the shootout in Changudari, then the gunfight in Sombhadra; if the police force hadn't gone there, would you have been preparing to attack Lucknow tomorrow?”

Mr. Yadav picked up a stack of newspapers and threw them in front of the few people.

“Look, the newspapers are full of news about your gunfights, and even New Delhi has called.”

This was what truly angered Mr. Yadav; Uttar Pradesh had made a spectacle of itself this time, and the Socialist Party's rule had been stained.

“Haven't I told you? I don't want violence! People from New Delhi are coming next month for an inspection; if anyone causes trouble again, I'll turn him into a flagpole and hang him outside!”

After venting, Mr. Yadav finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“From now on, cease fire immediately!” He looked at the few people, forcing them to state their position.

Tiraka shook his head, indicating agreement.

Although Kalin was extremely reluctant, he nodded in acquiescence.

Finally, it was Ron's turn; he shrugged innocently.

“I am a businessman, and I prefer cooperation over fighting. I wholeheartedly agree with Mr. Minister's proposal, but I have a small request.”

“Speak?” Mr. Yadav snorted.

“I need to transport coal from Sombhadra, and cement also needs to pass through Mirzapur; my goods must have unimpeded passage in these two places.”

“No problem, a reasonable request.” Mr. Yadav directly agreed on his behalf.

“What about you?” He turned to look at the other two.

Kalin wanted to say something, but finally closed his mouth.

Tiraka, on the other hand, was somewhat gloating; he had suffered no losses and had taken great revenge.

The longer it dragged on, the more advantageous it was for him.

However, the look in his eyes towards Ron was more wary than before; this 'ally' hadn't appeared throughout the entire event.

Yet, the Armed Police Force arrived, making it hard not to suspect if there was some connection in between.

“Mr. Minister, may I leave?” Kalin put his hands together in a namaste.

Mr. Yadav shook his head, and the few people consciously got up.

“Sur, stay for a moment.”

Ron's figure paused, and under the meaningful gazes of the other two, he sat down again.

“Have you forgotten what I instructed you? No deaths, no making the news!” Mr. Yadav stared at him.

“This is a war between the Tripathi and Tiraka.” Ron spread his hands.

“I don't know what you did in between, but I know you must have been involved!” Mr. Yadav was very certain.

He was the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, the leader of the Socialist Party, with extremely rich experience in political struggle.

For some things, you don't need evidence; intuition is enough.

“I don't have the energy for that, because someone has been causing trouble for the cement plant recently.” Ron looked at him, “He wants to ruin my factory, but he won't succeed, because I will make him fall hard!”

“So?” Mr. Yadav remained impassive.

“Mr. Minister, it's still the same saying, I am a businessman. If the price isn't satisfactory, we can negotiate further; what do you think of 20%?”

“All infrastructure projects in Uttar Pradesh.”

“Deal!”

“Regarding the Kanpur Expressway mentioned last time, my assistant will tell you the bidding details.”

“Pleasure working with you.” This time Ron smiled.

With the matter settled, he also got up to leave, and the office became quiet.

“They are all complete scoundrels!” Mr. Yadav cursed under his breath.

He was short on money; he wanted to buy a helicopter to use in the next general election.

This kind of thing can only be imported, and the price is expensive. Commercial helicopters with five to seven seats mostly approach ten million dollars.

That was a sky-high price of 300 million rupee; at his current rate of corruption, he couldn't catch up at all.

So when Kalin came to him, using 20% of the cement plant's commission as a bargaining chip, he was tempted.

How could a one-time kickback compare to a hen that lays golden eggs?

He didn't fully agree to Kalin, but agreed not to interfere in the competition happening in Mirzapur, provided that violence was not used.

He was a politician, naturally disliked violence, and also hoped to maintain a pure and flawless image before the next general election.

Unfortunately, Kalin was disappointing; he hadn't even dealt with Sur Cement Plant yet, but halfway through, he turned to fight to the death with Tiraka from Sombhadra.

Seeing that things were about to get out of control, Mr. Yadav could only use the armed forces at his disposal to intervene forcefully.

He was unwilling to do this unless absolutely necessary, because mobilizing the State Armed Police Force required explanation to New Delhi and the media.

It was very troublesome and easily gave the opposition parties leverage to attack him for being incapable of governing Uttar Pradesh well.

The public was also very sensitive to such matters and would question the effectiveness of security management in Uttar Pradesh.

Kalin disappointed him, so Mr. Yadav didn't hesitate to abandon the former and reach a new agreement with Ron.

The 20% bidding price for Uttar Pradesh government projects was slightly less than a 20% dry share, but still acceptable.

Business is politics, politics is business; both are the art of compromise.

Ron returned to the cement plant and finally let out a sigh of satisfaction.

“How was it, little brother?” Ratan leaned over.

“The result is pretty good.”

“Were that Kalin and Tiraka killed?” His eyes lit up.

“What are you thinking?” Ron was dumbfounded.

“That was the armed forces, sigh, why didn't they just use heavy machine guns to mow them all down then?”

“Mr. Yadav went to stop violence, not create it.”

“Ridiculous, Uttar Pradesh without violence, can it still be called Uttar Pradesh?”

“People from New Delhi are coming next month for an inspection.” Ron explained.

“Oh, no wonder, so Mr. Yadav was thinking of putting on a show.”

“In short, we need to keep a low profile; you saw the armed forces yesterday.”

Ron still felt lingering fear; compared to that, the gangster shootout was like playing house.

The most powerful violent organization is always in the hands of the government; don't cross the line, yesterday's event was a warning.

“Of course I know, next time we act, it must be fast, accurate, and ruthless, leaving no chance for the armed forces to be deployed.” Ratan clenched his fist tightly.

“Is that the experience you've concluded?” Ron was stunned.

“Tiraka is useless, and so is Kalin; a full-scale war and they're still so wishy-washy.”

“Brother, promise me. Before you act against anyone, discuss it with me first.” Ron wanted him to promise.

“Alright, alright, your brain is better than mine.”

Somehow, after yesterday's spectacle, Ratan suddenly became full of confidence.

As for the reason, it was that he had figured out the true capabilities of Kalin and Tiraka.

If the armed forces hadn't been deployed, he might really not have left a single one alive yesterday.

“Kalin suffered a great loss this time, I wonder if he will become well-behaved in the future.”

“Quite the opposite, he and Tiraka are already in a life-and-death situation.”

Ron was very clear about this; this time it was forcefully suppressed by Mr. Yadav, but Kalin was absolutely unwilling to stop here.

There would be a reckoning between him and Tiraka; Ron had this premonition.

Just as he expected, Kalin, who returned to the manor, rarely lost his temper.

He held a gun and sprayed bullets at a portrait of Tiraka for a full minute.

“Son, you are still young, you should have another heir for the Tripathi family as soon as possible.” At some point, Bao Ji, who was in a wheelchair, appeared behind him.

“Understood, Bao Ji.” Kalin's voice was low.

Have another heir? Did he think he didn't want to?

This King of Mirzapur, is an overlord in the eyes of outsiders, but internally?

Well, Kalin is actually a 'one-minute man', a quick shooter.

His new wife, Bina, has the most right to speak on this.