I am a master in India

Chapter 358 The Great Master

Barum was bored while waiting outside, so he took his bucket and went to the water tap on the street to get some water.

The Nepalese man guarding the water tap originally intended to charge him three rupees. However, considering the betel nuts offered, he waved his hand and gave him half a bucket of water instead.

Every day, Barum would wipe the car inside and out with a soft, damp cloth, and then offer incense before the statue of Lakshmi, the god of wealth, placed on the dashboard.

This has two advantages: firstly, it can repel mosquitoes that sneak in at night, and secondly, it can fill the car with religious fragrance.

He carefully wiped the seat, the beautiful plush leather cushion, and all the buttons.

Then pick up the leather mat under your feet and gently pat off the dust.

There were three magnetic images of the goddess Kali on the dashboard, which he cleaned one by one.

There were originally several statues placed here by the previous Yadav, but Barum threw them all away.

There was also a cannibal plush toy hanging on the rearview mirror, with its long red tongue sticking out.

Satya regarded it as a lucky charm, and he loved watching the ogres jump up and down while he drove.

Barum punched its mouth, then wiped it clean.

Next, you need to check if there are any tissues left in the tissue box.

The box is exquisitely carved and gilded, making it look like a royal artifact, but it is actually made of cardboard.

Barum had to make sure there were always tissues in the box, because Satya would use up more than a dozen tissues every time she went out.

He said the pollution in Delhi was so bad that he would always leave crumpled tissues next to the box, and Barum would have to clean them up and throw them outside.

After all this work was done, the area outside the BJP gate remained quiet, and no one came out.

Bored, Barum pulled out the Murder Weekly from under the driver's seat in the car.

The driver with vitiligo is right; this magazine is a great pastime when you're bored.

You can find this magazine at any newsstand in Delhi, right next to cheap novels.

This is the most popular magazine among the servants in Delhi. Cooks, nannies, gardeners, and drivers are all loyal readers.

The cover of each issue of this magazine features a woman lying cowering on the ground, dodging the man who is about to kill her.

Every week as soon as it hits the market, many drivers buy and circulate it.

The name sounds scary, but there's no need to worry.

Just because a driver and a cook enjoy reading Murder Weekly doesn't mean they'll actually slit their master's throat.

Of course, some people may have secretly thought about this.

It is precisely because hundreds of millions of servants have secretly fantasized about strangling their masters that the Indian government published this magazine, and it is priced at just over four rupees, making it affordable for ordinary people.

The murderers in the magazine all suffered from mental torment and physical abnormalities, and readers naturally didn't want to suffer the same fate.

And as usual, these murderers were apprehended and brought to justice by an upright, selfless, and dutiful police officer.

Or they might suffer a mental breakdown and hang themselves with a bedsheet, leaving behind a suicide note for their mother or elementary school teacher, filled with heartfelt emotions and tragic sentiments.

Another common trope is that he is hunted down, beaten, and hanged by the brother of the woman he killed.

So, there's no need to panic if you see a driver reading Murder Weekly on the street.

This poses no harm to the owners and will actually enhance their safety.

If the driver were reading Gandhi's works or Buddhist scriptures, the owner would be terrified.

Barum also liked the stories in Murder Weekly, but he was illiterate.

Despite his efforts to understand, he found it difficult to read the entire story smoothly.

So Barum came up with an idea: he would pay for the latest issue of Murder Weekly, and then the other drivers would read it to him.

This way, he could hear the story, and others could save money on buying magazines, making everyone happy.

Barum looked around; there were no drivers he knew there.

So he took the magazine and carefully approached the BMW 7 Series.

The gleaming paint made people hesitant to approach, and Barum stopped three steps away.

"This is what a real luxury car should be," he thought to himself. "Even palaces might not have something this good."

He took another step closer and tried to look through the car window.

Suddenly the car window rolled down, and Ishan eyed him warily.

"What's up, kid?"

“I have some magazines here, the latest ones,” Barum said with a smile. “You can look at them, and read them to me while you’re at it, I can’t read.”

Ishan glanced at his hand, then his expression changed drastically.

"Get out! You idiot! If the young master sees this, I'll have Anil kill you! What a fucking jinx!"

The car window was rolled up, and then it quickly started moving, taking a few more steps toward the entrance of the BJP headquarters, trying to distance itself from Barum's Toyota.

Barum stood there dumbfounded, holding the magazine, wondering what was going on. And what driver didn't read "Murder Weekly"?

Before he could think any further, there was commotion at the entrance of the BJP headquarters.

Ron and the others had come out, and Satya was all smiles, looking to be in a good mood.

With Ron's help, he finally met a high-ranking official.

Although neither side made any statement, having this connection will make future contact much easier.

Ron obtained the contact information of high-ranking members of the Bihar BJP from the shaman.

Not only that, the master would also make a phone call for him in advance to let Bihar know.

This way, Ron will be able to achieve twice the results with half the effort when he goes to negotiate business.

"Don't worry too much about Mayawati, the BJP will make her restrain herself."

"Yes, but I'm worried she's too arrogant and won't listen to others' advice." "Uttar Pradesh is not her personal fiefdom, and other parties won't stand idly by."

"I hope so," Satya said, feigning a sigh.

He looked worried, but secretly he was hoping to see Uttar Pradesh break out in war.

If Uttar Pradesh weren't in turmoil, how would the Socialist Party have any opportunities?

Ron also had a bit of a toothache; that Mayawati was a real oddball.

He's only been in power for less than a year, and he's already offended almost all the major powers.

It started with those civil servants who were in trouble, and now it has angered the elite class of Uttar Pradesh.

Fortunately, she was perceptive and didn't cause trouble for the Suer family, only causing trouble for Lucknow.

Over the past six months, the voices of opposition and protest have grown louder and louder. It's no exaggeration to say that public resentment is boiling over.

Wow, what a talent!

Ron categorized her as an abstract figure, an elite oddball in the world of eccentrics.

She might follow the tradition of previous chief ministers of Uttar Pradesh and step down after serving no more than two years.

It seems we need to choose the next chief minister in advance; this time, the Surya family will increase their interference in politics.

After visiting the BJP, Ron made an appointment with Satya to meet with the Chief Minister of Bihar.

Mining is something that should be started sooner rather than later.

Ron clearly sensed that the Indian merchants were expanding at an accelerated pace, and he certainly wouldn't fall behind.

But before many important matters could be dealt with, a certain cabbage came along, completely naked.

His phone was beeping incessantly in his pocket; it was undoubtedly a text message from Isha.

Ron took it out and glanced at it, then simply dialed a number.

Isa is simply bad at typing but loves to play. Her typing speed is incredibly slow, yet she never gets tired of it.

She was genuinely startled when she suddenly heard her phone ring.

These past few days she's been so engrossed in text messages that she hasn't even remembered that cell phones can make calls.

Seeing the names flashing on the screen, he slapped his forehead in frustration.

“Ron.” She answered the phone cautiously.

"Isa, what's wrong? I was busy and didn't hear the text message."

Ron's gentle tone made Isa feel warm all over.

"My dad isn't home tonight, I think..."

"Okay, I'll come pick you up right away!" He instantly perked up.

"Then I'll wait for you." Isa hung up the phone, feeling both anxious and expectant.

Verma went to Jaipur on a business trip and just left in the afternoon. He asked his sister, Isha's aunt, to take care of his daughter.

But Isa's aunt won't be here until tomorrow, so tonight is a rare free time for her.

Ron was overjoyed, and at the same time felt a sense of pleasure.

He visited Chief Justice Mr. Verma again these past two days, but was turned away and refused to see him.

Verma knew why Ron had come to him. He didn't want to get involved in Tamil affairs, so he simply didn't give Ron a chance to speak.

He also had a vague feeling that his daughter had been acting strangely these past few days, hiding in her room all day and not knowing what she was doing.

She used to love pestering me to go out and play, or to go on a trip; she was always chattering away.

Now it's suddenly quiet, and she no longer whispers to her father. After finishing her meal, she stomps upstairs.

Verma's intuition told him something was wrong, so he questioned the servants, especially Sunita, who served him personally.

The other party told him with absolute certainty that the young lady was perfectly normal and had never left her sight.

Verma thought Sunita was acting strangely; when did this fat maid learn to put on makeup?

She even wore lipstick, which displeased and disgusted Verma.

If I knew what Verma was thinking, I would definitely consider him a confidant. He felt uncomfortable with Sunita, who was also wearing lipstick.

Sigh, Ishan has really had a tough time lately.

In short, Verma had some doubts in his mind. He planned to investigate the matter after he returned from his business trip and asked his sister to take care of the family in the meantime.

Ron, who had received the tip, was practically bursting into laughter.

See, the opportunity has come.

As evening approached, he picked up Isa and got her into the car on time.

Isa's own ambassador's car was driven by Ishan, who had taken Sunita somewhere.

Ron was also very satisfied with Ishan.

Being able to handle a mountain of flesh like Sunita is quite an achievement.

He wasn't afraid of his subordinates being geniuses; he was afraid of them being mediocre.

In a place like India, geniuses truly have a place to shine.

"Ron, where are we going today?" Isa, wearing a pretty dress, leaned against him.

"Go to the Imperial Hotel."

Yes, it's a five-star hotel, one of the most luxurious hotels in New Delhi.

It's especially worthwhile to stay overnight.