I am a master in India

Chapter 215 Prison
"My friend, your only hope right now is Arthur Road Prison. You'll only have a chance there."

"I don't want to go to jail."

"What's the difference between us now and being in prison?"

Anand remained silent. He wanted to be a good person, and good people shouldn't go to jail.

“Once we get to Arthur Road Prison, you can spread the word. That prison is huge, holding twelve thousand people; we'll find an opportunity eventually.”

“How did you know?” Anand asked.

“I’m what they call a repeat offender,” Anil, the prisoner next to him, shrugged. “I’ve committed theft, stealing things from the construction site, copper wire, plastic pipes. I’ve been to jail three times already, this is the fourth time.”

"Do you like it here?"

"What?" Anil looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Then why do you always make excuses to come in? You could have chosen not to do it."

"God," Anil said, rubbing his forehead, "you're such an idiot!"

“Ron Baba said the same thing,” Anand sighed.

"Who?"

“Ron Baba, Ron Sur.”

“This isn’t funny at all,” Anil said with disdain.

"Really, he's my brother, and he's a good person."

“Yaar, Dr. Sue is indeed a good man, but he can’t care about the lives of prisoners.”

"If he knew I was here, he would definitely come to save me. I have to find a way to send a message out."

"Then when we get to Arthur Road Prison, you'll come with me. If you're lucky, you'll get three years; if you're unlucky, five. After I get out, I'll help you deliver messages."

“Three years!” Anand screamed.

"Provided you're lucky enough."

"No, it's too late!" Anand clutched his head, nearly collapsing.

"Alright, buddy, it's time to eat." Anil nudged him and got up to queue.

Every prisoner receives an aluminum tray as a meal box when they enter; it's the only metal container they can carry.

There were no knives, forks, or spoons; everyone ate with their hands.

There were no cups; when drinking tea, people would scoop the tea into a saucer and sip it lightly.

Anand's plate was stolen one night on his third day in the hospital.

He knew where the plate ended up; it was in the fourth room.

The plates here have other uses besides eating, such as making temporary heating pots.

Fold two aluminum plates into a V shape to serve as a shelf, and you can place a third aluminum plate on top.

A simple heating pot is all you need; just put some flammable material underneath, and you can use it to heat tea and food.

The first room was able to have hot food all night long thanks to it.

However, the heating was carried out in the fourth room because the sandals and shirts used as fuel would produce pungent smoke when burned.

The wealthy guests at the five-star hotel couldn't stand the smell, so they had someone else do it for them.

The fourth room was specifically for looting; there were always tattered clothes and worn-out shoes left over, which were perfect fuel.

The head of the room heats up the food in the first room for a fee, which is one of his main sources of income.

It's just that the other people in the room aren't feeling so well.

The oily soot from the burning coals drifted everywhere, and the dirty floor, walls, and even the faces of the people in the fourth room were blackened by the soot.

Aluminum discs have a limited lifespan. After being folded several times, they will become brittle and dented, rendering them unusable.

Therefore, new aluminum plates were needed; Anand's plates had been stolen and used to exchange for other things.

But he couldn't go looking for the thief because he didn't know who the thief was, and the people in the fourth room wouldn't give him a friendly look either.

The leader there was as strong as a gorilla, and Anand wisely avoided causing himself any trouble.

Anil sympathized with Anand, so he would secretly lend him his plate.

Anil scooped up a bowl of hot bean paste from the iron railing, gathered it up with his fingers, and slurped it all up in a few gulps.

He then handed the plate to Anand; time was tight, and the whole process took about six or seven minutes.

If Anand cannot collect food during this period, he will go hungry for a day.

They had seen the eyes of people who were starving and dizzy; they were as green as wild dogs.

Anand hurriedly stuffed the food into his mouth, and before he could even scoop some tea, a policeman appeared at the door.

With a clang, the key was inserted into the lock. The iron gate opened, and a policeman stood in the doorway, looking around.

"You, come here!" He looked in Anand's direction.

Anil calmly took the plate and gave him a "good luck" look.

Anand was taken back to the interrogation room where he had been brought in that day, this time with a more imposing policeman sitting behind the desk.

The other person didn't speak, but simply winked at the person next to them.

The fat policeman immediately grabbed Anand by the collar. "I'm giving you a chance to confess, kid. Make the most of it."

"Wh-what?" Anand swallowed hard in fear.

Are you doing illegal business for someone?

Anand shuddered. "Officer, I'm just a street tour guide in Mumbai."

Slap! A loud slap landed almost immediately.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Speak! Are you involved in smuggling? Kid, you'd better tell us the truth. We already have enough evidence."

The fat policeman said, half-jokingly, that this was a common method of interrogating prisoners.

He was implying to Anand that the police already knew everything, and that he should confess now for leniency, or face severe consequences if he resisted.

Yes, this is what Ai Jie meant by psychological warfare.

The people sitting here are all veteran police officers; they are familiar with these routines.

“Officer, I really didn’t! I’ve been a tour guide in Mumbai for almost ten years, and people on the street can vouch for me.”

*Slap slap slap*, this time the fat policeman used a metal bamboo stick, and Anand's face swelled up almost immediately. "I'll remind you one more time, don't think we don't know what you've been up to lately, whether it's organ harvesting or something?" The fat policeman's eyes turned dangerous.

"Officer, you've got it all wrong. I was just running errands for someone, I don't know anything about it."

He continued to be beaten, from slaps and bamboo sticks to belts; there wasn't a single unscathed spot on his face.

Bruising, bloodstains, wounds, and swelling distorted his entire face.

"Didn't you say you knew someone last time? Was it him?"

Anand shook his head; his intuition told him that he couldn't admit anything.

"Speak!" The whip lashed down again and again.

Anand hung his head and remained silent.

"Will you talk or not? Will you talk or not?" The sticks rained down on each other with a loud thud.

Finally, the fat policeman got tired of beating him. Anand was no longer human; he couldn't even open his mouth.

"Boss, this guy's tough."

The dignified police officer remained unmoved.

The fat man gritted his teeth and said, "Give him a ride on a dirt plane."

The ropes were tied too tightly this time, and when Anand was lowered down, he completely lost feeling in his limbs.

"Send this lowly man to Arthur Road Prison!" The fat man ordered his men to carry Anand away.

"Boss, why should we waste our time on these lowly people?" he asked, puzzled.

"We're only responsible for arresting people, not killing them; that's the big shots' business."

In fact, the initial instructions given to these police officers were to kill Anand directly.

But that important figure wasn't part of the police system, or even an official, so the police naturally wouldn't comply.

They knew that this commoner was connected to the famous Dr. Sue, who was also a very important person.

Leave room for maneuver in your actions; the Mumbai police are very shrewd.

However, since they were paid to do the job, they had to make Anand suffer enough, which was also a way of giving their employer an explanation.

"Boss, that's Ron Sue. Will it be a problem if we interrogate him like this?" To be honest, the fat man was a little uneasy.

"What are you afraid of!" the imposing policeman cursed. "Put all the blame on that person."

The fat man's eyes lit up. "That's right!"

Ron Sue is a big shot, and the person who's going to take him down is also a big shot.

When powerful figures are vying for power, the safest approach for them is to remain on the sidelines and watch from the sidelines.

Of course, it's not like you can't do some minor tricks.

For example, torture this lowly person to extract some useful information from his mouth.

Regardless of who wins or loses the battle, I might be able to make a fortune from it in the future.

These important figures will spare no expense to keep quiet in order to clean up their messes.

They weren't afraid of Ron blaming them; they could easily shift the blame to his enemies.

You're all fighting each other to the death, so it's normal for you to dig up dirt on each other.

Since we can't dig out any valuable information, let's quickly pass this hot potato to the prison.

A person can't die in the police station; just torture them a bit, and you can explain it to both sides later.

They would never completely offend the other side, but releasing the person was also out of the question.

They took money from others and promised not to leak the news; they always kept their word.

When Anand was thrown back into the detention cell, his limbs were so numb that he couldn't stand up.

People in the corridor kept their distance, knowing that this person must be a thorn in the side of the police, otherwise he wouldn't have received "special treatment" time and time again.

Anil was also afraid, but he still used an aluminum tray to fetch water and gently wiped the dried blood off Anand's face.

"Dude, you're really in a bad situation."

Anand tried to move his swollen, sausage-like lips, but couldn't make a sound.

"You absolutely must hold out until you reach Arthur Road Prison."

Anil's worries were unnecessary; the very next day, they were crammed into a blue prison van.

Eighty people packed the carriage, which only had a capacity of thirty, to the brim.

The prison van sped recklessly through the streets of Mumbai, which Anand had once loved so dearly.

Upon entering the prison gate, the prison guards pulled them out from behind the car and made them squat on the ground.

Anand has not yet recovered and can barely walk by dragging his leg.

The prison guards checked each of them one by one and then directed them to enter the prison.

They crouched on the ground, dragging their legs as they walked. Arthur Road Prison was very large, and it took them quite a while to get there.

There were prison guards waiting for them inside. The prisoners were assigned to different prisons, and Anand deliberately stayed behind last.

Someone told the prison guard that this untouchable could speak English.

So the prison guard ordered Anand to stand up in English to test whether he could really understand.

Anand struggled to his feet, his legs stiff and aching, only to be ordered by the prison guard to squat down again.

He squatted down, only to hear the order to stand up again.

From the roaring laughter of the prison guards watching, Anand knew they were making fun of him.

He remained silent, but could only follow along.

His short two weeks in prison had already taught him that disobeying orders would have dire consequences.

After more than a dozen repetitions, Anand was about to lose all feeling in his legs.

Finally, the prison guard seemed to have gotten tired of this game. He stared coldly at Anand and slowly revealed a wicked smile.

"Someone told me to take good care of you. Now, which path are you going to take?"

He pointed to a dark passageway leading into the prison, which resembled a gaping maw ready to devour someone.

(End of this chapter)