I'm a Master in India

"Oh, I think I understand," Ron said, suddenly recalling the inside information Kavya had provided earlier.

This was the first time he'd heard the name, and perhaps it was as the rumors suggested, that this Elizabeth was an outsider.

"You're not a gang, nor are you from the bank?" Sharma asked, finally understanding.

"Do I look like a jerk?" Ron said with a smile as he walked over to the sofa and sat down. "I'm a businessman. I heard you're planning to put that land up for sale in the newspaper?"

"Oh, that's right!" Sharma said, suddenly energized. "You have a good eye. That land is one of a kind in Mumbai, a good few hundred thousand square feet."

"Yaar, hundreds of thousands of square feet of wasteland, there aren't even slums nearby."

"But you won't find any larger, contiguous private land."

"Mr. Sharma, have you heard of the word 'location'? Rajasthan has vast tracts of unclaimed desert, but no one wants them."

"My land is not a desert; it's the textile factory's most valuable asset."

Ron waved his hand, interrupting his boasting. "What's your price?"

"One hundred million rupees!" Sharma said loudly.

"Damn it, this jerk is crazy!" Vinod said, rolling up his sleeves, ready to punch him.

"Stop!" Sharma shouted. He looked at Ron, confused. "Why aren't you bargaining?"

"It's not too late to bargain after he beats you awake," Ron said, crossing his legs and enjoying the show.

Vinod grabbed his collar and raised his hand.

"Stop! Fifty million!" Sharma yelled.

Vinod turned his head; Ron didn't say anything.

Smack! The fat on Sharma's face trembled.

"Thirty million, can't go any lower!"

Smack! This time, Vinod didn't even need to ask Ron for instructions.

"Twenty million, absolutely can't go any lower!" Sharma wailed, covering his face with a resentful look at Ron.

"You're not even willing to bargain; that's not Indian at all!"

"You can bargain," Sharma said, aggrieved. "Indians bargain until the very last moment before a deal is closed."

"Alright then, five million rupees."

"Absolutely impossible!"

Smack! Vinod's slap landed.

Ron was stunned; Sharma was also stunned.

"He wasn't being honest," Vinod explained weakly.

"Damn it, I'm going to fight you!" Sharma said, struggling to twist his round body.

Over there, Vinod held him down with one hand, unmoving.

In less than two minutes, Sharma was slumped, motionless, like a soulless slug.

"Alright, let him go," Ron said, tilting his head.

Vinod took two steps back, watching Sharma warily, but the latter was only capable of panting.

Ron looked at him, and he looked at Ron.

"Why aren't you bargaining?" Ron asked curiously.

"I..." Sharma looked at him, then at Vinod, tears welling up.

"I think the price of five million rupees is worth discussing," Ron said first.

"Fifteen million," Sharma tried to bargain.

"Eight million."

"Twelve million."

"Eight and a half million."

"Twelve million."

Vinod wanted to hit him again, but this time Sharma wouldn't budge.

"Mr. Sharma, I sincerely want to make this deal. But your asking price doesn't make sense; according to market prices, the land isn't worth that much."

"The textile factory not only has land but also factory buildings and some equipment; these are all assets."

"I've looked into it; the valuable equipment has all been sold off by you. Now what's left is just an empty shell."

"No, even if you hit me, it's not going to work," Sharma said stubbornly, this was his last bit of stubbornness as a businessman.

"I need to go to the textile factory to assess the site and review the various documents, and then we can have the final negotiations," Ron conceded.

"I'll consider it," Sharma said hesitantly.

"Mr. Sharma, please remember that we are more sincere than the bank and more reasonable than the gangsters."

Ron handed him a business card and then left with Vinod discreetly.

The room returned to silence, as if nothing had happened.

Sharma looked at the business card in his hand, his brow furrowing and smoothing out, indecisive.

As long as he found the right person, the land purchase would be settled. The remaining process couldn't be rushed; various procedures and clauses needed to be confirmed slowly, otherwise, it would be easy to fall into a trap.

The first thing Ron did after leaving the hotel was to call Kavya and ask her to remove Sharma's advertisement.

He would compensate the newspaper for any losses. It was just an advertisement, at most a few thousand rupees.

But Kavya said that it wasn't necessary to go to so much trouble; she could just find an excuse to reject Sharma's application. The newspaper received so many advertising requests every day that no one would care about this.

Alright, Indian characteristics, the whole country is just a giant makeshift troupe.

After finishing this matter, Ron began to calculate his own small treasury.

According to his estimate, the asking price just now was probably Sharma's bottom line. Twelve million rupees, that wasn't a small number.

His previous savings were about six million, and after completing Luca's business, he probably earned another million.

The past October was a harvest month, and the Mumbai travel company's turnover hit a new high.

He hadn't looked at the specific accounts yet, but Harush had roughly calculated that the profit in October was at least 1 million rupees.

Adding it all up, he had nearly nine million rupees in cash to use, still three million short.

November wasn't even halfway over yet, so he couldn't count on that. There wouldn't be any news from Luca for a while, so he could basically give up on considering that.

Among his group of friends, he was the richest, so that was also a no-go.

If it really didn't work out, he would have to go to the bank. The reason Ron considered the bank last was because he had heard how outrageous Indian banks could be.

The police are corrupt, the officials are also corrupt, so are the banks corrupt?

Even the children in the slums know the answer to this question.

Ron wasn't in a hurry about Sharma; he knew the other party would come looking for him. There were no accidents, and there was no choice.

The pressure of debt collection from the bank and the workers alone would dispel the interest of most outsiders.

As for the gangsters, as long as Sharma wasn't stupid, he would know how to choose.

Ron was already preparing the funds and the procedures required for taking out a loan from the bank.

But before he could finish, Anand came to the door.

"Ron, are you free tomorrow?"

"What's up?"

"Go to the slums."

"Is Sky Village throwing a feast again?"

"Just come, just come."

"Dude, I'm swamped right now; I don't have time to go to a feast."

"It's Alibaba inviting you."

"Who?" Ron was stunned.

"Taj Ali, he invited you last time, at the fishing village by the sea."

Oh, Ron remembered. He had almost forgotten about it because he had been busy with Sharma's matter.