I am a master in India

Chapter 345 Terrible

To drive the expansion of pagers in the Indian market, it is not enough to just solve the hardware manufacturing problem; the supporting communication system must also keep up.

Ron is planning to visit an official at the telephone company; if he could get their base station planning map, it would save him a lot of trouble.

If you want to start a business in India, you have to take shortcuts. If you blindly follow the established procedures for research and development and trial and error, your competitors will have already taken the lead by a long way.

Personal connections are the key to business success or failure.

His Mercedes navigated the crowded streets of Mumbai, but soon came to a standstill.

Ron glanced outside and saw a large crowd gathered in front of him, looking very panicked, gesturing wildly and shouting something. The police were also sweating profusely with anxiety.

"What happened?" he asked.

“Master, it’s an elephant,” Anil replied, turning his head.

"elephant?"

"Yes, an elephant went berserk and was causing destruction everywhere in the streets."

Ron rolled down the window and looked up. The sound of elephants neighing filled the air, and the crowd began to stir.

Soon the enormous creature came into view. Its ears were bigger than palm-leaf fans, and wherever its long, curved tusks pointed, the crowd scattered and fled.

With a gentle flick of its trunk, the mango stall next to it collapsed. The vendor was so angry he cried, but could only watch helplessly.

The police chased and shouted, wielding sticks, but the elephant swung its trunk and suddenly broke into a wild gallop.

It trampled houses and uprooted trees along its path, causing people to scream and flee from their homes.

Several police officers, sweating profusely, picked up their walkie-talkies to call for help; the situation was completely out of their control.

Just as the elephant was about to crash into a roadside telephone pole, a policeman in a moment of panic pulled out a handgun from his waist—a very old-fashioned revolver.

With a loud "smack," the elephant, completely unaware, pushed the concrete utility pole askew.

The crowd shouted and yelled, and the police were also furious and cursed.

When the pistol didn't work, the police brought over a rifle.

Ron glanced at it and almost burst out laughing.

If he wasn't mistaken, it was an old Lee-Enfield rifle from World War I.

The policeman stopped a few steps away, then tore open the cover on his shoulder and took out a heavy musket, which he then cocked.

In his panic, he tried several times but couldn't load the bullets properly. By the time he was ready to raise the gun to his chest, the elephant had already run far away.

He jogged over, aimed the sights on the barrel of his gun at the target, but the elephant suddenly turned around, startling him so much that he stumbled.

“The police in Mumbai are all incompetent.” Anil wished he could take charge himself.

"They're just patrol officers, don't get your hopes up too high," Ron said, watching the spectacle with great interest.

Just then, the sound of police sirens came from behind, and three Maruti Suzukis with flashing lights sped past them and stopped on the outskirts of the crowd.

The first person to get off the bus was none other than Ron's old friend, Ajay.

He had obviously noticed the Mercedes over there. Ron's car was easy to recognize because the license plate started with "SUR".

Aijie spoke a few words to the people around him, and then walked over here.

Ron also got out of the car; they hadn't seen each other for a while.

"Why are you handling this personally?"

“If I don’t come soon, your TV station will put it on live broadcast right away.”

Ron laughed, "Sun TV's news timeliness is absolutely top-notch."

Sanjiv, who was in charge of news, cultivated a large number of informants throughout Mumbai, and they were almost everywhere.

Sure enough, before they could even exchange a few words, a news broadcast van bearing the logo of "Sun TV" pulled up.

"What are you going to do with this elephant? With a gun?"

"There are too many people, it's not safe, so we contacted a veterinarian."

One of the veterinarians who arrived with us was from the Mumbai Zoo. They were very experienced in handling this kind of situation and assembled a tranquilizer gun in just a few minutes.

Before the elephant could continue its rampage, a needle was injected into the back of its large, fan-shaped ears in its neck.

The panting elephant immediately quieted down, then could no longer move and slowly lay down.

Aije's arrangements were very thoughtful. After the elephant fell into a deep sleep, a crane came forward and lifted it onto a large truck.

The onlookers were all beaming with excitement and lingered for a long time.

An officer walked over sheepishly, blushing, and said to Aijie, "Sir, things happened so suddenly, I fired a shot at the elephant."

"I see."

"Sir, the elephant doesn't seem to be injured."

"Ok?"

"Maybe it's because it has thick skin and tough flesh," the policeman guessed.

Aiger had someone inform the veterinarian and asked them to examine the matter carefully.

If an elephant is injured, it might continue to go berserk after it wakes up.

The veterinarian and his team climbed onto the truck to examine the elephant's body, but after searching for a long time, they found no gunshot wounds.

“Elephants have thick skin, so please search inch by inch. The bullet must be stuck somewhere,” Aijie emphasized again.

But still nothing. The veterinarian examined it very carefully and found not even a suspicious white mark.

Aijie then sent people to investigate the location where the shooting occurred, and they soon made a discovery.

The bullet was lodged squarely in the door of a small pharmacy, not far from where the elephant had fallen. "You missed?" Aijie looked at the patrolman in disbelief.

"Sir, I may not have seen it clearly."

How far away were you from the elephant when you fired?

"About this far," the patrolman said, gesturing with his arms outstretched.

Ron estimated that the distance was no more than two meters.

The shooting skills of Mumbai police are truly appalling.

"You see, some of our police officers aren't as accurate as gangster gunmen," Ai Jie sighed.

"Don't you guys train regularly?" Ron asked, somewhat curious.

"Funding has always been insufficient, and we can only guarantee training when we occasionally encounter experts."

Aijee said that the Mumbai police's weapons and laboratories are outdated, still at the level of decades ago.

Daoud gangs can obtain AK-47 rifles and grenades from markets in Baba and along the Arab border; their automatic rifles are equipped with silencers.

But the Mumbai police, as Ron just saw, are still using World War I relics.

“After the Indian army upgraded its equipment, their old weapons were replaced by ours,” Aije said, shaking his head. “Our revolvers are clearly not enough.”

When he first joined the police force, every time he changed shifts, Aijie would take off his service pistol and hand it to the officer taking over from him.

With those old-fashioned Lee-Enfield rifles, the gangsters had already fled to Dubai before the police could even prepare to fire.

Even after arresting the suspect and finding the murder weapon, the auxiliary systems that Aiger relied on to convict the suspect were all substandard, from forensic laboratories to law enforcement equipment to the district attorney.

"Foreign media are accusing us of having no human rights, but they don't know that in the UK and the US, suspects' statements at the police station can be accepted by the courts, but not in Mumbai. The lawyers the government assigns us are also the worst, and their performance in private practice is appalling because gangs have poached all the best lawyers with high salaries."

Aijie complained that the police's various forms of torture against suspects were a last resort.

This is the only way they can quickly obtain clues and then solve the case.

Because the court largely disregarded the suspect's testimony given during the proceedings, it was unable to convict him.

To ensure a high case closure rate, the police only hand over cases to the court after they have proven to be irrefutable and indisputable.

Undoubtedly, this form of physical torture also brought about another problem: the suspect was accidentally injured and killed.

This year alone, Mabang prison has the highest mortality rate in the country, with more than 200 cases.

This number represents a 500% increase compared to last year, with a total of 200 people being tortured to death during detention—a record that far exceeds that of many military dictatorships.

However, according to a police report, of the 200 inmate deaths in Mabang Prison, only 15 were caused by "police intervention," while the rest were caused by "falling off the bed" or "being knocked down by others."

It's like the Indian version of hide-and-seek; those who know, know.

Ron also understands why the death rate among suspects at Mabon prison has soared this year, because Ajay has been dedicated to the war on gangs for the past year.

Do you expect the police to be lenient with gunmen whose hands are stained with countless amounts of blood? Those are ruthless killers.

They kill people like they kill chickens; they're even more cold-blooded than they treat animals.

Those media outlets are just making trouble out of nothing. Don't they know what kind of country India is?

Human rights? That's a term that clashes with India's culture!
Well, although SunTV also reported on this issue, Ron still has to type something on the keyboard.

However, thanks to his outstanding achievements during this period, the "vice" title before Aijie's title has finally been removed.

He became the inspector general of the Mumbai Police Headquarters, and half of Mumbai was under his jurisdiction.

"Can't you apply for some funding to improve the team's equipment?" Ron felt that he already had enough power.

"Dude, in this era of economic globalization, the police force is still a non-profit organization. Who would be willing to put more money into it?"

Well, even the police force is talking about economic benefits; this shows just how capitalized Mumbai is.

"I'm planning to set up a charity fund, and then I'll see if we can cooperate with your police station."

"A charitable foundation?"

"Yes, in the name of Suer Electric Appliances."

"Dude, most people do charity work at hospitals or something, why are you thinking of investing in the police force?" Ai Jie asked curiously.

“The hospital will do it too, anyway, it’s my decision.” Ron shrugged.

"Alright, I'll take your kindness as a favor." Aijie knew, of course, that this was because of him.

Otherwise, who would have nothing better to do than donate money to the police?

In India, regardless of wealth, people tend to avoid or keep their distance from the police.

SunTV previously did a report on criminal investigation.

A boss's accountant absconded with 45 lakhs and fled to the east to hide. He reported it to the police, who arrested the accountant's sister.

She had nothing to do with the case, but they detained her for twenty days just to force her brother to show up.

When the boss went to the police station, the officer in charge of the case informed him that "the woman is still there" and said, "You can do whatever you want to her."

This blatant implication left the Sun TV reporter speechless.

Knowing that a reporter was conducting an undercover investigation, the boss naturally dared not act rashly.

He was even worried about the safety of innocent women, so he had to ask people to guard the police station day and night to prevent the girl from being harmed by law enforcement officers.

This is an Indian police station, and it's even in the metropolis of Mumbai. You can't imagine what it would be like elsewhere.

The street farce ended, and Ron got into his car and left.

His business isn't finished yet, and it's time to put India's mobile communications on the agenda.

(End of this chapter)