I'm a Master in India

"Johnny?"

"It's me, Ron. Heard your new shop opened?"

"Your news travels fast."

"Come on, brother, there's nothing in this area I don't know about. But you're really something, turning tourism into such a business."

"I've had some luck, and Hardabhai has been a great help."

"Don't be modest, brother. There are plenty of businesses around tourism in Mumbai. Hotels, restaurants, tour guides—too many to count. But you're the only one who doesn't invest any capital and still makes money off these businesses."

"They need customers, I take a commission, everyone gets what they need. By the way, when are your people coming?"

"In thirty minutes, same old place."

"Have them come directly here, I have a private reception room."

"No problem."

Hanging up the phone, Ron pulled a suitcase out from under the counter.

Inside were US dollars he'd exchanged from tourists recently, ranging from $5 to $100, enough to pile up on the entire table.

In the reception room, Ron closed the door and began sorting the stacks of dollars by denomination.

Since his last meeting with Hardabhai, they had reached an agreement.

Hardabhai would send someone to collect Ron's money once a week. They would agree on the exchange rate in advance, then calculate the amount and settle the bill.

The collector's name was Neil, one of Hardabhai's top men in charge of foreign exchange business.

It was said that every morning, he would call all his contacts to set the exchange rates for major currencies.

Throughout the day, someone would call him every two hours to tell him about changes in international exchange rates. A taxi was at his disposal twenty-four hours a day, with two drivers taking shifts.

Every morning, he would visit the intermediaries in various areas, distributing bundles of rupees to the street vendors for their use.

Brokers and other thugs would find customers for the street vendors, taking tourists and businessmen to exchange money with them. After the street vendors exchanged the money, they would bundle up the foreign currency and wait for the intermediaries to collect it.

The intermediaries would move between the street traders all day long, replenishing the rupees in a timely manner when they needed them.

In the evening, Neil's men would collect all the foreign currency, which was the black market trading chain on the streets of India.

As for hotels, airline offices, travel agencies, and other more cautious companies, Neil personally directed the collection and exchange of money.

Ron's company belonged to this category. As a rising star, Neil often came to collect the money in person.

Thirty minutes later, Neil, wearing a turban, walked in. It was said that he was originally Persian and had majored in finance at an American university.

"How's the haul this week?"

"Not bad, I met a businessman, a total of $30,000."

Ron pushed the money over, and Neil's assistant began counting the bills on the spot with a counting machine that had been prepared.

At the same time, Neil also handed Ron a large suitcase.

"30 points, 1.18 million rupees."

The exchange rate was a little lower than last time, which Ron wasn't surprised by.

As India's economic policies gradually liberalized, more and more foreign capital began to return to the continent.

In the previous decades, the Indian government stipulated that if foreign capital wanted to establish itself in the country, it had to form a joint venture with local enterprises, and the equity held by the local enterprises should not be less than 60%.

This directly forced out many old foreign companies from the colonial era, including Coca-Cola.

Now this restrictive policy has been greatly relaxed, and eager overseas capital has begun to prepare for reinvesting in the South Asian subcontinent.

With foreign investment, dollars are naturally no longer scarce. With the further development of trade, this abnormal exchange rate will continue to fall.

So Ron expected that the profits of the foreign exchange black market would decline significantly next year.

Tsk, the good days of making money while lying down are coming to an end.

The two parties counted and settled on the spot. Twenty minutes later, Neil shook hands and said goodbye.

Because Ron's cash flow was getting bigger and bigger, Neil suggested exchanging money once a day in the future.

This would minimize the losses caused by exchange rate fluctuations, after all, the black market exchange rate is closely related to the international market.

Ron agreed. Exchanging a small amount once a day, he planned to hand it over to Anand to do, and then personally check the accounts at night.

Of the $30,000 this time, Ron's own capital was about 1 million rupees, and he made 180,000 rupees in the round trip.

Carefully calculating, most of the profits of the Mumbai travel company came from the foreign exchange black market, followed by commissions from hotels and restaurants.

As for the service fees paid by tourists, they were the least noticeable part.

Seeing that the bulk of the company's profits was constantly shrinking, Ron was already considering other ways to make money.

Either use his customer base to negotiate commissions with the hotels, or expand the scale and receive more tourists to make up for the difference in quantity.

Or open up new avenues and find other profitable businesses.

Ron had some ideas, but they were not yet mature, and he needed more capital.

Although the rupees looked like a lot, often millions, they were only tens of thousands of dollars when converted at the exchange rate.

Thinking about it this way, Ron's family fortune was instantly not enough.

After working hard for half a year, he had accumulated about 2 million rupees in cash, just over 60,000 US dollars.

He couldn't even afford an apartment in a prime location in Mumbai, and he always felt like he was missing something to do other things.

He still had to save money. He had been paying attention to land transactions in the central region of Mumbai recently.

Judging from the information he learned from the newspaper, this might be a rare opportunity, and he didn't want to miss it.

Fortunately, this window of opportunity would not be too short, and Ron expected to be able to start after the new year.

Just as he was about to deal with the money, Mary told him that Rajesh had arrived.

Not only Rajesh came, but also the chief of the Fort precinct police station, Raja.

"Surbhai, we meet again, nice to meet you!" Raja's face was twisted into a strange shape, if not because of stomach cramps, then it was flattery.

"Namaste." Ron smiled and put his palms together.

Then he didn't waste any words and directly took a paper bag from Mary.

Ron slightly lifted a corner, revealing a thick stack of hundred-rupee bills inside. Then, casually, he handed it to Raja.

Giving money so openly, right in public, was probably only possible in India.

Raja said a lot of words of thanks in a hurried tone, then stuffed the bag of money into his chest. Outside, he bent over to the side and spat loudly twice to seek good luck.

After taking the money, they quickly wandered to other places. The train station was still crowded with people coming and going.

Ron wasn't afraid of being seen by others. He even intentionally let the vendors within a hundred meters see this scene.

This represented that he had a close relationship with the police, and those with crooked ideas in their bellies would obediently take them back.

And Raja, as the chief of the police station, was so respectful to Ron, which was certainly not entirely due to money.

Neil, who had just left, was known to all the street vendors in this area, not to mention Hardabhai, whom he represented.

In the eyes of outsiders, Ron was connected to Hardabhai, and the police did not dare to ignore him.

It was because of these monetary interests that Ron was able to be safe and sound in Victoria Station.

Bribery, gangsters, police, magically forming a stable triangular relationship.

Ron counted his current businesses: the foreign exchange black market, the stolen goods black market, and a drug black market that was waiting to be launched.

Damn it, he was clearly a good person, but why was he doing illegal business?

Too difficult!

"Ron, you have an international express delivery!"

Mary's clear voice interrupted his self-repentance.

The express delivery came from France, and the sender was the Anna couple.