I am a master in India

Chapter 223 No One Can Escape

boom!boom!
Without hesitation, Sarasga pulled the trigger, and Stanley fell to the ground.

That wasn't the end of it; his partner wouldn't escape it either.

Other police officers who were watching then took up positions at different angles and fired several shots in quick succession.

They fired their guns while hurling vulgar curses.

It was as if they were beating animals or trash to death, not people.

In order to kill "justifiably," you must first reclassify the souls of your victims; you must deny that they are living, breathing human beings just like you.

Stanley and his partner were already lying on the ground, lifeless, but the encounter wasn't over yet.

A policeman pulled a Type 56 assault rifle and a high-powered revolver from the trunk.

They wrapped the handkerchief in a handkerchief and placed it in Stanley's hand, who was already dead, before pulling the trigger and firing two more shots.

Then remove the handkerchief and step back.

Click, click, the recorder in the same group took photos from various angles, with professional technique.

There were pedestrians on the beach in the distance, but they all ran away as soon as they heard the first gunshot.

After taking the photos, the police waited at the spot for another 45 minutes until they were certain that Stanley and his companions had no vital signs before they pretended to take the bodies to the hospital.

This was a chance encounter; Ron watched from a short distance the whole time.

Stanley and his accomplices did not go to court. After being arrested and briefly interrogated, they were taken to a public place and shot dead.

"Alright, the matter has been resolved." Aijie breathed a rare sigh of relief.

"How many assassins like this have been encountered by chance?" Ron asked curiously.

"They are the twelfth and thirteenth this year."

"I have to say, this efficiency is indeed high."

It's only February now, the beginning of 1994. At this rate, at least two hundred gangsters will be encountered each year.

Will Ron sympathize with them?

joke!

Just a few days ago, these assassins were still eyeing him.

Mumbai is a city of sin, and when the judicial system, which is supposed to maintain order, is paralyzed, people give the rulers unlimited power.

Some businessmen were murdered by gangsters for refusing to pay extortion money, and they would question the government, "Is the government just going to watch us die?"

Political and business leaders once held a large conference on the increasingly rampant problem of extortion. The businessmen were angry, but dared not be too angry. So their speeches at the conference were both obsequious and threatening.

Do you think these businessmen would object to the police's "chance encounter"?

No, they would be even more supportive of the police, who would gain the power of life and death to carry out extrajudicial executions.

Ron is also a businessman; he hates violence, but he doesn't hate encounters with the police.

The city will likely continue to live in fear, and people will have no choice but to present themselves as more violent than others.

Newspapers report this violence on their front pages, Bollywood movies depict this violence, and gangsters and police are happy to see it happen.

Because of the existence of violence, the power of gangs has been able to grow further. They live off the fear of the citizens and thrive in their environment.

Because of the existence of violence, people, in order to save their lives, find the police's "chance encounters" all the more reasonable.

The chance encounter was over; nothing was left at the scene except for a few bullet casings.

Police officers can kill people in broad daylight with their heads shaved, yet they don't have to worry about media coverage.

Those reporters knew how to write the script: gangsters always fired first, and the police's counterattack was merely in self-defense.

They never ask about the details, just as they never bother to examine the logical flaws in Indian films.

If you believe media reports of chance encounters, you'll inevitably assume that all gang members are utterly incompetent gunmen.

On the other hand, not only did the police manage to escape unscathed every time, but they also managed to kill the suspects every single time.

Sure enough, Ron saw the related report in the newspaper the next day.

Aijie and his team "encountered" vicious gang members. Their attempts to persuade them to "surrender their weapons or face death" were ineffective, and the gang continued to fire at them. They had no choice but to retaliate and kill the criminals.

The newspaper also featured photos of the "fight" on the spot, with Stanley's Type 56 assault rifle being particularly eye-catching.

Aijay tells Ron that the weapon the police placed next to the person he met also suggests his status in the gang.

If it was just a low-level henchman, they would leave a six-shot revolver next to his body.

In contrast, when the minor leader was encountered by chance, he had a Mauser rifle at hand.

Truly important figures were "buried" with submachine guns such as AK-47s or AK-56s.

Stanley held a high position in the Daoud gang; he had more than a dozen lives on his hands and deserved a grand funeral.

What are the public's opinions on this chance encounter? The public reaction has been indifferent, with no one angrily accusing the police of openly becoming executioners.

Only a few commentators criticized, "If what the police say is true, the gang used such sophisticated weapons at the time, namely AK-56 rifles with a rate of fire of up to 600 rounds per minute and a range of 300 meters."

It's truly astonishing that neither Superintendent Ajay, Inspector Salasga, nor any of the officers present were injured. Unless everyone in our police force is indestructible.

Ron smiled and put down the newspaper. He had to admit that the "chance encounter" was a brilliant mechanism.

If Stanley really did die at his hands, Shakir in Dubai might become enraged and launch an endless attack.

Their gangs number in the thousands, and a few hundred rupees can get their underlings to take up guns and kill people, an endless stream.

There are too many poor people in Mumbai. There was a time when someone tried to kidnap Ron for 200 rupees.

Now that the police are taking action, they are quick, accurate, and ruthless, giving the other party no time to react.

However, Shakir cannot retaliate against the police, and "chance encounters" are a method recognized by both the underworld and the legitimate world.

From now on, we'll do it this way: leave all those vicious gangsters to Aijie.

He can both clear away obstacles and help Aijie accumulate military merits—brilliant!

It remains to be seen whether Daoud's gang, having suffered such a significant loss this time, will dare to cause him further trouble.

The entire operation resulted in the annihilation of the team; three of the five top gunmen were dead—enough to teach them a lesson. Ron tossed aside his newspaper, waved, and led Anil and the others out.

Today he is going to the hospital to visit Anand and bring him a gift.

"How's your recovery going?"

“Freida said I was really good last night,” Anand said, shaking his head smugly.

"Stop talking nonsense!" Freida slapped him, then burst into laughter, laughing without any hesitation.

These past few days have been one of the happiest times of her life; her husband has been found again, and nothing could be more miraculous.

She had seen too many families torn apart, and none of them ended well, especially those from the Dalit caste.

She knew perfectly well who had helped her, so after a few lighthearted banter, she discreetly left the ward.

Anand is recovering well; most of his wounds have healed, and his round face is starting to look fuller.

Only his arms are still in casts, making movement difficult.

“I feel that the wards here are more luxurious than the Taj Mahal.” He looked around the room.

“In terms of price, they are indeed about the same,” Ron said with a smile as he sat down next to him.

The floor here is covered with gleaming tiles, the bathroom has hot water, and there's even a fully equipped kitchen.

Anand can enjoy a good meal every day, get a full ten hours of sleep, and his weight is visibly increasing.

However, physical wounds can be healed, but emotional wounds are difficult to recover from.

The kindness and innocence in his character began to waver: his smile, like his memories of prison, became crippled.

Although he was sleeping on a soft mattress that seemed about to collapse, he often woke up, waking up with his arms flailing and punching, and he could still smell the wet metallic smell of blood from his nightmares.

Just as Anand's chest heaved, Ron steadied his shoulder.

"Want to go out for a walk to clear your head?"

"What?" Anand seemed to wake up from a dream.

"You can move now, right?" Ron looked him over.

"Of course, it was my arm that was injured, not my leg."

"That's perfect. I have a gift for you today. Come on."

Ron helped him up. Anand could actually jump and leap, except for his two arms.

He had been in the hospital for over a week and was eager to get some fresh air.

Ron had prepared an SUV for him, spacious enough that he wouldn't have to bend over to get in.

"Where are we going?" Anand looked out the window; the surrounding houses seemed somewhat familiar.

“Go to the place you used to be.” Ron gave him a reassuring look.

He said that no one involved in this matter would escape punishment.

About ten minutes later, the car stopped near Arthur Road.

Looking at that familiar cluster of buildings, Anand's breathing became rapid again.

“I told you I’d give you a present. Just wait a little longer, it’ll be soon,” Ron reassured him.

At Arthur Road Prison, several of the cell supervisors who had once held Anand in his cell were suddenly summoned to the prison guards' office.

The same prison officer was still sitting there, dressed in uniform and looking very imposing.

"You can be released today. Pack your things and leave now."

"Now?" The dormitory supervisors looked at each other, shocked by the sudden news.

Based on their sentences, the earliest they can be released is two years away.

"What, you're nostalgic for life on Arthur Road? Want to stay for another ten years?" The prison warden frowned.

"No, no, no, sir, we just feel a bit surprised," the men quickly shook their heads.

"Don't worry, someone will bail you out. While I'm in a good mood, get out of here."

"Goodbye, sir!" Several men stepped forward and touched the prison officer's feet.

Watching them leave, the prison officer sneered.

In prison, it's either cannibalism or being cannibalized.

He touched the envelope in his pocket: four thousand dollars for four people. It was a good deal.

The warden also had some personal belongings to take with him when he was released from prison, but Rajesh impatiently urged them to hurry up, saying it was pointless.

The excitement of being released from prison overshadowed their resentment, and the several cell supervisors happily followed Rajesh toward the gate.

"That's the car that's picking you up, go ahead." He waved and took two steps back.

"Was it someone sent by Brother Shakir?" Several dormitory supervisors, without any suspicion, got into the van like idiots.

It's no wonder they let their guard down; the Daoud gang does indeed throw a welcome-back party for their released underlings.

Some leaders even had their meals delivered to the prison every day. Although it was called imprisonment, it was actually more comfortable than living in a large villa.

Their release from prison was much more elaborate; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a celebration.

Only after getting into the car did the group realize something was wrong; they didn't recognize any of the henchmen around them.

"You are"

Before the dormitory supervisors could finish speaking, they were injected with powerful anesthetic needles into their necks.

Their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed limply to the ground.

Rajesh smiled and waved to the car, then leisurely returned to the prison.

Oh dear, Dr. Su is just too kind-hearted; he even used an expensive anesthetic.

But he's a doctor after all, so it's understandable that he likes giving injections.

(End of this chapter)