I am a master in India

Chapter 228 Cleanup Work
Mary and Lena have no nationality; to be precise, they don't know which country they belong to.

In their childhood they were Europeans, in their adolescence they became Russians, and now they could be Indians.

If they hadn't met Lady Elizabeth, they might not have had such troubles.

Marie only remembers being born in Switzerland and having no siblings. Both her parents were artists; her father was a painter and her mother was a soprano.

In her memory, childhood was the happiest time of her life.

Creative parents are very popular; in that multi-ethnic country, poets, musicians, actors, and artists all love to gather at their home.

Mary naturally learned several languages ​​in her life, and spoke them all fluently.

She also spent a lot of time learning her favorite arias from her mother, and in her father's studio, she watched him use his favorite colors and shapes to create incredible images on a blank canvas.

One day, her mother received an invitation from the Vienna Theater to perform there.

The whole family set off, planned their route in advance, and prepared to enjoy a long road trip.

Just as they were about to reach their destination, a sudden blizzard struck, and the car veered off the road. The father tragically died, and the mother was trapped under the vehicle.

Mary cried out helplessly, all alone, when then Lady Elizabeth appeared. She took Mary away and, incidentally, set the car on fire, burning it along with her mother underneath.

Lena's situation was even worse; her entire family was murdered to cover up the fact that she had been taken away.

All of this happened right in front of her. Her family lived on farms near Brno in the Czech Republic, where the area was deserted for miles around when the gunshots were fired.

They were taken away for training and learned all sorts of skills, with Lady Elizabeth herself serving as their instructor.

A few years ago, the two were sent to Brazil on a mission, but just as they were getting close to their objective, news suddenly came that the North was disintegrating.

Mary and Lena escaped, and Lady Elizabeth sent men to hunt them down. They were only able to escape with Luca's help.

Later, Lady Elizabeth herself became rootless and adrift, and one by one, her former subordinates disappeared without a trace.

Out of desperation, she started a palace business in Delhi using her old connections, and then moved to Mumbai after getting involved in a political assassination case.

After hearing the news of Lady Elizabeth's fall from power, Mary and her companions also came to Mumbai.

As Ron saw it, everything has now settled down.

"What are your plans for the future?" he asked.

“I don’t know.” Mary lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and shook her head.

"Mumbai is nice, I like it here," Lena said carefree.

She has no home anymore; wherever she goes, she is a wanderer.

"Then let's stay in Mumbai for now. You guys really like Bollywood, don't you?"

“We don’t have anything else to do right now,” Mary shrugged.

“Sun Entertainment is your business, yes, it’s all our business.” Ron nodded affirmatively.

Mary and Lena laughed, giggled, and laughed happily.

They exuded a sense of ease from the inside out, and could even stare at the ceiling and drift off for several minutes.

“By the way, speaking of Bollywood, it seems like there’s a bit of trouble with director Chopra,” Mary said.

"What's the trouble?" Ron also relaxed and lay down between them.

"It's said that the music cassette tape issue is due to a copyright dispute with a record company."

“Okay, I’ll go check it out in a couple of days.” Ron stood up.

"Where are you going?" Lena was about to ask for a second chance.

“There’s still some finishing touches to be done.” Ron put on his clothes and left.

The once-famous imperial palace was reduced to ashes, but the matter will not end so easily.

The public might have thought it was an accident during the celebration, or that the palace had angered some mob.

But the big shots don't think that way. They are well-informed, and anything that could change the landscape of the city would attract their intense attention.

That's tens of thousands of people; no one can remain calm in the face of such power.

The first person to call Ron was Thackeray, the leader of Shiva's army.

His power comes from the thousands of Shiva's army, who are willing to do anything for him at his command, just as a mob stormed the palace.

Look, now that a smaller version of Shiva's army has been born, Thackeray immediately feels threatened.

As soon as Ron walked in, he asked the question directly.

"Did you do the things at the palace?"

"They didn't shout my slogans."

How can you just admit to something like this? In Mumbai, Thackeray is the biggest.

“Many people have called me to complain about the security situation in Mumbai. The public’s perspective is narrow; they can’t see the big picture, they can’t distinguish right from wrong, and they are easily swayed.”

“I understand. Mumbai cannot do without Shiva’s army. Fortunately, those people did not harm the innocent; they were just dissatisfied with the palace,” Ron explained softly, deliberately adopting a humble tone.

“That place is filthy, it’s practically blasphemy against Shiva.” Thackeray’s face was full of disgust when the palace was mentioned.

He was extremely conservative and adhered to Hindu culture. In his view, Indian women should wear veils when going out and look at the ground when speaking to strangers.

Thackeray considered the astonishing games played in the palace to be heresy, and that they should all be hanged.

Even without Ron, Shiva's army would have destroyed that place someday.

It was precisely because they shared similar values ​​that he remained indifferent to matters of the palace and turned a blind eye to Ron's affairs.

Of course, Ron personally coming to explain the matter was a great honor for him.

"Not only the palace, but all those Bollywood films that cross the line should also be destroyed. What bad habits have young people picked up these days?"

Oh right, Valentine's Day! I'll abolish it next year, just you wait and see. They won't dare do it again; I'm going to tear up all those Valentine's Day cards. What is Valentine's Day anyway? Ridiculous! College students have a little money in their pockets, pocket money given to them by their fathers, and they don't even know if that money is legal.

Oh my god! They want to enjoy life with their girlfriends. Girls these days are like that too. What do the newspapers call this generation, the "Cola Generation," right?

Whether it's Coca-Cola or Pepsi, they're all wearing jeans! Thackeray, with a look of disgust, gestured with his legs.

This big shot was probably getting old, because the conversation drifted off to other topics.

He was, after all, a weary, aging dictator. After each angry outburst, he would chuckle, making him seem less threatening.

He would also joke with Ron about people in the film industry, and at first glance, he looked quite kind while smoking a cigar.

Ron, however, did not forget that the person in front of him was the bigwig of the Mumbai parallel government, who could remotely control most things here.

“Those people are right next to your factory; you have to keep an eye on them,” Thackeray instructed him, turning to him.

“They’ll settle down, I promise.” Ron nodded.

Some things are understood but not spoken.

Ron won't go around telling the world what he did to the palace, but he does need to let the necessary people know what powers he can unleash.

Thackeray was certain that this posed no threat to him, so he let it go easily and was even able to chat and laugh with Ron.

These are all rights that they strive for and protect at all costs.

Ron chuckled as he left the Thackeray villa.

In this city of Mumbai, there are few people he can be wary of anymore, Thackeray is one of them.

He was no longer the insignificant figure treated as a "horse"; the palace was his best stepping stone.

He is a businessman, that's true, and he values ​​harmony, that's true, but that doesn't mean he can be arbitrarily exploited.

Those who are eyeing him, especially gangsters, should think twice before making any decisions in the future.

Thackeray wasn't the last person Ron wanted to see; the fall of the palace was simply too conspicuous.

Lady Elizabeth painstakingly cultivated it, building a considerable network of connections.

Even though she had become mentally impaired, those who were frequent visitors to the palace, or those who had leverage over her, were all very nervous about this matter.

So the day after meeting Thackeray, Ron went to visit Pavar, the chief minister of Mabang.

"Why do you always like to make a big splash?" Pavar asked, his face displeased.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, looking completely innocent.

"What's going on at the Kama compound?" Pavar handed him the newspaper in his hand.

The report above was about another riot that occurred in Mumbai.

Hundreds of small companies in the Kama compound were driven away by the swarming mob. Those people only had time to pack their valuables; everything else, including office supplies, was looted by the mob.

Who are these rioters? Ron said he didn't know them.

“Mr. Minister, I am a victim too,” he even protested.

"How did you become a victim? Those people come from the slums next to your factory," Pavar said irritably.

“There are slums next to the World Trade Center, but who can say there’s any connection between the two?” Ron feigned ignorance. “Besides, they’re stealing my house.”

"Your house?" Pavar asked, puzzled.

"Yes, I just bought that place not long ago. I was planning to renovate the building, but now it's all taken over by people from the slums."

“This is a bit of a problem,” Pavard frowned.

"Of course it's troublesome. There are more than 30,000 people involved. Forcing them would incite public anger."

"What are you going to do?"

“Sigh, never mind. For the sake of Mumbai’s stability, let them have those houses.” Ron said with a righteous expression. “200 rupees a month isn’t much, but at least I won’t leave empty-handed.”

"That's it?" Pavar's expression was strange.

"That's how it is. It's going to be tough on the original tenants, though. There's absolutely no way we can get the house back now."

“I have never seen a Brahmin like you before. You are more Vaishya than a Vaishya.” Pavar finally couldn’t hold back any longer.

Did he really think he didn't know about the palace? That mob so coincidentally targeted the palace, and then headed straight for Carmen's compound, taking another city.

This series of dazzling maneuvers would be truly bizarre if no one was orchestrating them behind the scenes.

It's obvious without even guessing that this was a deal, not to mention who the mastermind was.

However, Pavard didn't care about the destruction of the palace; he even hoped it would burn down more completely.

Lady Elizabeth was said to have secretly taken many photos of political figures indulging in pleasure, and no one knows where they are hidden.

It's perfect to burn it all down now, leaving nothing behind, completely and utterly.

The reason why no police or firefighters went to the scene on the day of the fire was because many people hoped the fire would get bigger.

Of course, Pavard wouldn't say these things outright, nor would he thank Ron. As someone in a superior position, giving a proper warning is standard practice.

“At least I eliminated a slum of 30,000 people, who are now official residents of Mumbai and have 30,000 votes,” Ron implied.

"Focus on your Suer Park and stop making headlines." Pavar's eyes flashed.

“No problem,” Ron readily agreed.

Look, everyone has something they want.

The people in the slums want a stable place to live, and Pavard wants votes.

What does Ron want? He wants to sit at the table and eat!

(End of this chapter)