I'm a Master in India

After bandaging Mary and Lena's wounds, Ron decided to help them deal with their remaining merchandise first.

This was the last of their belongings they had salvaged when leaving the taxi, and Ron knew they needed the money.

However, before doing that, he needed to make a phone call.

“You're not thinking of calling that profiteer from last time to the hotel to make a deal, are you?” Mary exhaled a smoke ring.

“No, according to the rules, we don't do that kind of thing at the hotel. I'm going to call a friend of mine, and then have him notify another friend.”

“What?” Mary and Lena were confused.

“His name is Anand, and he has a cousin, Adi, who works as a dishwasher in a restaurant. Adi has been looking for a job driving a taxi.

I need to tell him the driver's number and the boss's name from when we were taken away. That guy's boss needs a new driver. It's such a good opportunity, we have to be quick, right?”

“Oh, God, this guy is also a profiteer.” Mary made a helpless gesture to Lena.

“I could tell. I could tell from the way he refused to play poker with us. This guy wants to win our hearts, the greedy ghost!”

Ron didn't have time to chat with them; this was a win-win situation.

His company needed reliable taxi drivers to take foreign tourists from the train station to designated hotels, without cheating or ripping them off.

In return, Ron would provide them with a steady stream of customers, ensuring their taxis were constantly running and never idle.

Familiar taxi drivers were, of course, the first choice, which was why Ron was willing to help.

After doing all this, he took the cameras to Joel Market to exchange them for money with Vikrant.

Mary and Lena were smart; these things all came from outside Mumbai, so even if someone wanted to investigate, they wouldn't find anything.

Over the next few days, Ron changed their bandages a few more times, and spent the rest of his time focusing on the renovation at the train station.

His company officially opened in April, and now, at the end of June, three months had passed.

Thanks to the devaluation of the rupee, Ron's business was booming, and profits were higher each month.

In three months, he earned 2.6 million rupees. In addition to earning 1.2 million in foreign exchange speculation in the first month, the average profit for the next two months was 700,000 rupees.

However, there were also many expenses. He spent 150,000 rupees bribing officials and police, and continued to pay his respects every month.

Including those low-level patrolmen and civil servants in the train station, Ron took care of everyone from top to bottom.

This part of the expenditure alone had cost him 500,000 rupees.

He was joking, if his company didn't make money, it would be fine. But as long as there was profit on the books, some of it had to be shared.

Otherwise, how could he have remained safe until today? Johnny could only deter gang members, but he couldn't deter corrupt officials.

In a place like Mumbai, where black and white are mixed, no profitable business is not envied.

There was also the renovation of the train station. Ron wanted his office to look upscale, at least to the level of an airport duty-free shop.

300,000 rupees was the approximate budget, which could ensure the quality and efficiency of the project.

To prevent the Indians from being lazy, Ron had Anand and Vinod take turns supervising, and the one-month construction period had to be strictly adhered to.

He knew exactly what the Indians were like; a dam could be built for decades, even with continuous additional funding.

If Ron dared to ignore it, it might not even start construction after half a year.

As it turned out, this high-intensity supervision worked. Although the construction party kept complaining, the current progress was in line with expectations, and it would be completed in another week.

After all the tossing and turning, Ron's wealth had shrunk by more than a third, leaving about 1.7 million rupees in both overt and covert accounts.

Also, there was the company's formal office in the Fort area, and the location had already been chosen.

Today, Ron and Anand came to finalize the contract with the landlord.

The Fort area is different from Colaba and Crawford; it is very quiet here.

Cars and motorcycles gradually disappeared, the air became clean and fresh, and there was no longer the diesel and petroleum exhaust pollution that permeated other places.

Instead, there was the smell of spices and perfumes. Children in the courtyard were reciting the Vedas, women were grinding spices at the door, the scraping sound of stones colliding, and the cries of porters carrying goods on their heads.

Everywhere there were sounds made by people using their mouths and hands, and the atmosphere of industrial civilization seemed to disappear here.

“The Fort area is a very special business district, Ron, do you know that?”

“What?” Ron wiped the sweat from his forehead. The July sun in Mumbai was suffocating.

“There are many printing shops, stationery stores, discount stores, and small manufacturers, mainly supplying the needs of the surrounding offices. So it's very quiet, with the smell of books.”

“The British should have taken good care of this place.” Ron looked up. The narrow streets were lined with old colonial-era houses.

“Of course, this is where they lived themselves. There are also many law firms and publishing houses, companies that use their brains. The British needed them.”

The two walked along the ancient street for a while before stopping in front of a Western-style villa.

“This is it! Look, Ron, you can work here from now on.”

Ron looked up. If he didn't know he was in Mumbai, he would have thought this was somewhere in old London.

Completely Gothic style, with pointed ribbed vaults and flying buttresses, looking heavy and beautiful.

According to Anand, this used to be a law firm run by the British. After independence, it changed hands several times, and now it has been vacant.

The landlord was a very Westernized middle-aged man, wearing a suit and tie, and he was also a Hindu.

And coincidentally, Ron had both of these characteristics, so the two sides talked very happily.

“Are you vegetarian?” the landlord asked as they were about to finalize the deal.

“Oh, Mr. Sur is a Brahmin, and he is even more enthusiastic about being vegetarian!” Anand chimed in from the side.

Because of this sentence, the landlord signed a lease agreement with Ron for this house at an 80% discount, and even omitted the defensive clauses.

India's "Lease Law" is quite a bizarre existence, but because Ron was a Brahmin, the landlord chose to trust him.

The entire office building, with a monthly rent of 10,000 rupees, was a bargain.

This price is certainly not cheap at the current price level, but it is large enough, with a full three floors and a dozen rooms available.

Because it was originally used as a law firm, the room layout was ready-made, and they could use it directly after painting the walls.

Ron left these chores to Anand, and he also wrote a list of office supplies needed in the future.

Telephones, printers, fax machines, desks, and computers. Ron's current work required these new office tools.

After arranging all this, he returned to Victoria Station, where the office by the platform was about to be completed.

But before he could inspect his territory, Mary found him.

Now she and Lena were the leading sister flowers in Ron's company. Blonde and blue-eyed foreign girls as receptionists were rare in Mumbai.

Just their white appearance, standing there, attracted foreign tourists.

Ron's original small calculations worked. In a foreign land, Westerners naturally attracted Westerners.

English was also their native language. Look, a match made in heaven! Although he had been complained by them more than once as a profiteer who abducted ignorant young girls.

But today Mary came to him not for this, she had something else she couldn't decide.

“You mean there is a Brazilian who is in some trouble?” Ron asked, crossing his arms.

“Yes, he has heard of you and came specifically to find you.”

“Heard of me?”

“Please, you are now a well-known figure to foreigners staying in Mumbai.”

“Really, how do they evaluate me?” Ron became interested.

“He can handle both sides of the law, and you can't go wrong if you look for him when you're in trouble.”

“Sounds like you made it up.” Ron commented.

“Okay, I slightly embellished it a little bit, but it's definitely not groundless.”

“Let's get down to business, is that Brazilian a friend of yours?”

“Why do you ask that?” Mary had a sense of shame at being caught.

“If he wasn't a friend, you would want to stay far away from all the trouble.”

“Can you always guess what other people are thinking? He is a friend I met in Brazil, and he helped me once. I need to repay the favor.”

“Tell me about the trouble.” Ron said noncommittally.

“Visa, his visa has expired. But you know, staying in a regular hotel in Mumbai requires that as a necessary procedure.”

“What is he doing in Mumbai?”

“I think it's probably something to do with business.”

Ron's eyes flickered slightly. After a while, he raised his chin, “Bring him to see me.”