I am a master in India

Chapter 466 Freedom
Barum saw in the rearview mirror that Satya's attention was entirely on her phone, and she wasn't paying attention to anything else.

A beam of light from the phone shone on his face, and without looking up, he asked, "Barum, what happened? Why is the car stopped?"

Barum touched the magnetic image of the goddess Kali hanging in front of him, asking her for good luck, and then opened the storage box under the dashboard.

The broken bottle, the claw-like sharp glass, is inside.

"The wheel is a little crooked, sir. Please give me two minutes."

Barum swore he hadn't touched it; the door opened by itself, and he stood in the drizzle.

The surrounding area was covered in wet, black mud. He squatted down next to the left rear wheel, his body completely blocking his view, so people on the road couldn't see him at all.

There was a large thicket of bushes beside the road, and beyond that was a wasteland, a very large wasteland.

The streets have never been so deserted; you'd swear it was arranged just for you.

The only light inside the car was the glow from Satya's cell phone. Barum tapped on his side of the window with one finger and turned his head toward him, but did not roll down the window.

Barum mouthed, “There’s a problem, sir.”

He didn't roll down the window, nor did he get out of the car. He was still playing on his phone: constantly pressing buttons and smiling. He must be texting the blonde woman.

Barum pressed his lips to the wet glass and grinned at him.

He put down his phone, and Barum clenched his fist and pounded on the car window. Satya rolled down the window, his face full of displeasure, and music from a CD played from inside.

"What is it, Barum?"

"Sir, could you please come down for a moment? We've encountered a problem."

"What trouble?"

He sat in the car without moving an inch! Although his mind was too slow to realize it, his body already knew.

"It's a wheel, sir. I need your help; the wheel is stuck in the mud."

Just then, the car headlights suddenly shone on Barum, and a car was driving towards them.

Barum's heart skipped a beat, but the car drove past them, splashing mud and water onto his feet.

Satya reached out a hand, opened the car door, and was about to get out, but a certain self-preservation instinct was still holding him back.

"Barum, it's raining. Do you think we should call for help?"

He twisted his body and moved towards the car instead.

"Ah, no, sir. Trust me, come out."

He was still twisting his body, trying to move as far away as possible.

Barum thought to himself that he was about to lose what he had almost obtained, and this drove him to do something he still hated himself for years to come.

He really didn't want to do that; he really didn't want to be seen as that kind of driver, that kind of driver who extorted money from his master, in the last two or three minutes of his life. But he had really driven Barum to the point of no return.
“The car has been malfunctioning ever since we came back from that restaurant in the Praia district that night.”

Satya immediately looked up and stopped playing on her phone.

"It's that restaurant with the big X sign on top. You remember it, don't you, sir? This car has been having problems ever since that night."

This is where Satya Nadella goes on dates with foreign women; they never go the same way twice. As a party leader, a patriotic leader in the eyes of voters, how could he possibly date foreign women?
When Barum saw him open his mouth and then close it again, he must have been thinking: Is this blackmail or an unintentional mention of the past?

We can't give him time to figure this out. "Please come down, sir. Trust me."

Satya placed her phone on the seat and reluctantly moved closer. The phone's glow illuminated the dark car interior for a second before going out.

He opened the car door furthest from Barum and got out from the side of the road. Barum crouched down and hid behind the car.

"Please come this way, sir, the tire on this side is flat."

He walked over, carefully avoiding the mud.

"It's this tire, sir. Be careful, there's a broken bottle on the ground." There's trash everywhere by the roadside, so a broken bottle is quite normal.

“Here, I’ll throw it away. This is the tire, sir. Please take a look.”

He crouched down, and Barum stood up, holding the bottle in his hand, his arm bent, hiding the bottle behind his back.

His head was just below Barum, just a black ball.

In the darkness, Barum saw a thin white line on the scalp between his parted hairs, like a white line painted on a road, leading to a point in the center of his head, where a person's hair spreads out in all directions.

The black ball moved, winking to keep the rain out of its eyes, then looked up at Barum.

"The tire seems to be fine."

Barum stood there motionless, like a primary school student caught doing something wrong by the teacher.

He was thinking: Has his landlord brain finally been discovered? Will he stand up and punch himself in the face?
However, the scene he imagined did not happen.

“I said, Barum, you know this car better than I do. Let me take another look.”

He glanced at the tire again, and the black ball reappeared in front of Barum, with white painted road signs leading all the way to the top.

"That tire is faulty, sir. You should have replaced it a long time ago."

“Okay, Barum.” He touched the tire. “But I really think we—” Barum slammed the bottle down, the glass piercing his skull.

He stabbed the glass into the top of the head three times until it pierced the brain.

Johnnie Walker Black Label is made of very sturdy, high-quality glass; it's definitely worth the high price even when sold as a secondhand bottle.

Satyana's unconscious body collapsed into the mud, his mouth hissing like gas leaking from a tire.

Barum's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground. His hands were trembling, and the broken bottle slipped from his grasp; he could only pick it up with his left hand.

The thing on the ground, its mouth constantly hissing, started crawling in a circle on its hands and knees, looking both comical and helpless.

Barum hesitated, wondering whether to run away now or let them fend for themselves.

The person on the ground had lost consciousness and hadn't been able to move for hours. Should we gag him and leave him in the grass?
Barum quickly shook his head, saying he might wake up, remove the object from his mouth, and then call the police.

Moreover, the Yadav family would certainly do the same terrible things to their own family members, so he is just taking revenge now.

Barum preferred the second option: to kill him.

He stepped on the back of the still-crawling thing and stomped it to the ground.

He knelt down, finding a suitable position for himself. He turned his body around, pressed his knee against his chest, unbuttoned his collar, and felt his collarbone to find the right spot.

Johnnie Walker raised the broken glass from the black cube again and then plunged it down hard.

Just as the sharp claws pierced the soft neck, Satya opened his eyes, and his life blood sprayed into Balum's eyes.

He could see nothing anymore, but he became a free man.

By the time he wiped the blood from his eyes, the great Mr. Satya was already dead, blood flowing rapidly from his neck.

Barum dragged his body into the bushes and then buried his hands and face in the rain and mud.

He picked up the bundle at his feet, inside which was a white cotton T-shirt with only one English word on it, and put it on.

Barum reached for the gold-plated tissue box and used the tissues inside to wipe his face and hands clean.

He removed all the magnet goddess stickers and threw them onto Satya's body, hoping they would help his soul ascend to heaven.

Then, Barum got into the car, turned the ignition key, stepped on the gas, and started driving the Honda Civic.

What a fine car, and also its most loyal accomplice, embarking on its final journey.

Since he was the only one in the car, Barum reached out his left hand, turned off the music, and then stopped to relax.

From now on, he can listen to music for as long as he wants.

Thirty minutes later, the dim yellow lights of the train station flickered in the rainy night.

Barum stood in front of them, staring intently at the destination that kept changing on the screen, thinking to himself: Where should I run to?

He definitely can't go back to his hometown; the police, who are lying in wait, might take him away before he even gets inside.

He also can't go to Mumbai; once the news gets out, he'll definitely be wanted in every major city.

Especially Mumbai, which resembles a golden-winged bird, is too conspicuous.

Barum ultimately decided to take a roundabout route; he headed south, but not to Mumbai.

He first went to Hyderabad, then suddenly headed for Calcutta, and then went south.

When he changed trains at the station, Barum was carrying the bag and queuing at the tea shop in the station, preparing to buy a cup of tea before his train departed.

Then he saw the large piece of paper on the wall, a police wanted notice, a notice for his arrest.

It had arrived here before him, and Barum looked at it with a smug smile on his face.

But the smile lasted only a second, because he sensed someone watching him.

A guy had his hands behind his back, staring intently at him while looking at the wanted poster.

Barum began to tremble as he slowly fled from the wanted poster, but it was too late.

The guy ran up to him as soon as he saw him, grabbed Barum's wrist, and stared intently at his face.

He asked, "What does it say? What does the notice you're looking at say?"

"See for yourself."

"can't read."

Barum then understood why he had come over.

It was a feeling of urgency, like an illiterate person eager to attract the attention of someone who could read.

It turned out that he was just like me, an illiterate man who didn't even know about "Murder Weekly".

“Okay, I’ll tell you what it says.” Barum smiled.

(End of this chapter)