I am a master in India

Chapter 445 Cockroach
The dreams of the rich and the dreams of the poor will generally never intersect.

Well, except for blonde bombshells.

Poor people dream of having enough to eat for the rest of their lives, and they dream of looking like rich people.

So what do rich people dream of?

Barum didn't understand before, but now he can roughly figure it out.

That is, lose weight! Make yourself look like a poor person.

Every day at sunset, the open space around the Windsor Apartments transforms into a sports field.

A portly man and an even heavier woman, both with large, wet clumps under their armpits, were taking an evening "stroll".

The wealthy in Delhi are still partying late into the night, and with all they do all day eating and drinking, it's no wonder they get overweight.

So they started taking walks to lose weight.

Satya is already middle-aged, and it's inevitable that she has gained weight.

He was completely unaware of this in Uttar Pradesh, but after arriving in Delhi, he suddenly became anxious.

Seeing the high-ranking officials and dignitaries around him trying every means to lose weight for the sake of their so-called physique, he pretended to join in as well.

For wealthy people, gyms are too tough and tiring; "walking" is a much more refined option.

Where do people usually take walks? Of course, outdoors, by the river, in parks, or near forests.

However, while Delhi's wealthy are showcasing their extraordinary talent in urban planning, they have also turned this area of ​​the Great Defence Zone into a place without parks, lawns, or playgrounds.

There are only buildings here, only shopping malls, only restaurants, and even more buildings.

There is a sidewalk outside the tower, but that's for poor people to sleep on. So if you want to "take a walk," you can only walk around the concrete courtyard surrounding the tower.

Whenever the obese masters "stroll" around the yard, they have their thin servants, mostly drivers, stand at different points in the circle, each holding a bottle of mineral water and a clean towel.

After each round of walking around the tower, they would stop beside their servants, grab a bottle and gulp it down, then grab a towel to wipe themselves before walking the second round.

Barum stood at one point on the circle, while the vitiligo driver, who also lived in the underground servants' quarters, was walking with his master in the yard.

He held a bottle of water and a towel soaked with his master's sweat, and every few minutes he would turn around and wink at Barum.

His boss, a steel tycoon, was bald just two weeks ago, but now has a thick head of black hair that he can show off.

This wig was specially made in England at a high price, and it has become the main topic of discussion among them these past few days.

Other drivers are willing to pay ten rupees for the vitiligo driver to use some old tricks, such as sudden braking or speeding over a pothole, at least to knock off his master's wig once.

Every night, the drivers would reveal secrets about their employers and then comment on them in detail.

Barum was standing a little over a meter away from the driver with vitiligo, holding his owner's bottled water in his hand and draping his sweat-soaked towel over his shoulder.

As Satya was about to finish his lap, Barum could smell his sweat wafting towards him.

This was his third lap. He took the bottle, drank it all in one go, wiped his face with a towel, and then draped it back over Barum's shoulder.

"That's enough for today, Barum. Bring up the towels and bottles."

“Yes, sir,” Barum said, watching him walk into the apartment building.

He went out once or twice a week, but this clearly could not offset the consequences of his nightly indulgence in alcohol and women.

Barum saw a wet, bloated belly peeking out from under his white t-shirt, which looked utterly repulsive.

Barum winked at the driver with vitiligo, then headed towards the underground parking lot.

Ten minutes later, he smelled sweat and heard footsteps.

The driver with vitiligo got out of the car, and Barum called him over to the ambassador's car, the only place where he could feel completely safe now.

“Country rat, you haven’t been to Delhi in a while.”

“My master is a member of parliament from Uttar Pradesh, so of course I stay in Uttar Pradesh.”

"Okay, what's up? Want me to bring you another magazine? Murder Weekly?"

"No, I want something else."

Barum crouched down, leaning against one of the ambassador's wheels. He scratched the tire tread with his fingernail, and the vitiligo-stricken driver also crouched down.

Barum showed Vitiligo the blond hair, which he always wore on his wrist as if it were a keepsake box.

Vitiligo held his wrist, brought it to his nose, touched the hair with his finger, smelled it, and then put it down.

"A purebred European horse." He was very certain.

"Can you handle this?" Barum swallowed hard.

“No problem,” he winked. “I told you before, your master would be lonely.”

Besides being a driver, the vitiligo patient also worked as a broker, providing a variety of in-demand items.

Liquor in Delhi is expensive because it's taxed. But the liquor at the embassy is tax-free; it was originally intended for the officials inside, but they were selling it on the black market.

He could also get his hands on other things, like golf balls, which were being sold by a driver who worked at the U.S. consulate.

He can even get women, and he has no problem with certain special fetishes.

Vitiligo thought that Barum was looking for him to find a foreign woman for his master.

“Don’t mention him!” Barum grabbed him by the neck, but he broke free. “Are you crazy? You almost strangled me!”

Barum continued to scratch the tire treads with his fingernails, his eyes gleaming. "How much?"

"High-end or low-end? Should it be a virgin? It depends on the situation."

“I don’t care, but she has to be a blonde woman, like the woman in the shampoo commercial.”

"The cheapest one is 10,000 or 12,000."

"So expensive?" Barum subconsciously looked up.

"What do you think? This is a genuine foreign woman."

“I don’t have that many no’s; my master is only willing to pay four thousand rupees at most.”

"Six thousand five hundred, a country bumpkin. At least at this price, we must respect white people."

"Ok."

"When does he want a country rat?"

"I'll tell you soon. There's one more thing I need to ask you."

Barum pressed his face against the tire, took a deep breath of the rubber smell, and tried to bolster his courage.

How many ways can a driver deceive his owner?

Finally, finally, Barum asked the question.

The driver with vitiligo's eyes lit up, as if he had found a like-minded soulmate.

"Country rat, from today onwards, you are a qualified Indian driver."

As a servant, if you can't be cunning and deceitful to your master, then what kind of qualified driver are you?

He didn't hold back at all; he revealed all his most treasured tips and tricks for treating vitiligo.

Discussion! How can entrepreneurial drivers earn extra income?
1. While the owner is away, use a funnel and siphon to siphon the gasoline out of the car and then sell it.

2. When the owner asks him to repair the car, he can find a shady repair shop. The repair shop can inflate the repair costs and then give the driver a kickback.

The following repair shops with an entrepreneurial spirit can help drivers with an entrepreneurial spirit:

Jixiang Auto Shop, located in Radsele, near Coutéb.

RV repair shop, located in Greater Keshla 2 district

Nilofa Auto Repair Shop, located in DLF 1, Gurgaon

3. He should study his master's habits and then think: "Is my master rather careless? If he is indeed rather careless, how can I take advantage of this to my advantage?"

For example, if an owner leaves an empty bottle of British whisky in his car, he can sell the bottle to counterfeiters; Johnnie Walker Black Label bottles sell the best.

4. As his experience and confidence grow, he can try some bolder things; he can turn his owner's car into an unlicensed taxi.

The road from Gurgaon to Delhi is perfect for this kind of thing; many men in love come to the customer service centers there to see their girlfriends who work there.

Once an entrepreneurial driver is certain that the owner won't notice the car's presence and that the owner's friends are unlikely to be on the road during this time, he can use his free time to shuttle back and forth, picking up and dropping off passengers who are willing to pay.

At night, Barum would lie in his mosquito net with the light on, watching the black mantises crawl around on top of the net, their antennae twitching incessantly, just like his nerves.

He lay in bed, too restless to even reach out and kill them. A mantis flew down and landed right on his head.

Barum seemed to hear the cockroach speaking to him:
When they force you to sign a helicopter accident report, you should ask them for money.

This money is enough for you to sleep with twenty white girls.

The cockroach flew away, and another one flew over and landed in the same spot.

No, at least a hundred! it said.

The cockroaches in the room all opened their mouths at once:
One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, one thousand, ten thousand blondes.

Even that's not enough; it's still far from sufficient.

Barum's mind was filled with the sounds of cockroaches.

Satya was unaware of his servant's thoughts and waited for half a month before he was finally summoned by Mr. Sue.

The meeting place was very significant; it was the Sunshine Five-Star Hotel, which had just opened in New Delhi by the Suer Real Estate Group.

After two years, this luxurious star-rated hotel has finally completed all its renovation work.

The location is excellent, right next to the Capitol Building, so there's almost no shortage of customers.

Satya was very pleased that Mr. Sull wanted to see her there.

Because he will have a chance to meet with real senior officials in New Delhi, and everyone knows that Mr. Sur has close ties with the BJP.

Out of business considerations or to ensure their own people feel more at ease, they would naturally choose to hold their regular meetings at the Sunshine Hotel.

Early that morning, Satya rushed off to keep the appointment.

P.S.: I'm thinking of finishing this book soon, probably around the end of the month.

Summer vacation is almost over, and I want to make the most of it by taking my family out for a trip.

(End of this chapter)