I'm a Master in India

When Ron and Luca saw Panther again, he was in an unusually good mood.

There was no gloom, no depression; he was so happy he proactively gave Ron a hug.

"What's making you so happy?" Ron asked.

"Have you read the newspaper?" He winked.

"What are you referring to?"

"Ajaj Rall, the national hero touted as Mumbai's savior. I heard he's going to be awarded a military medal for the bombing incident."

"You're a fan of his? Does he know he has a smuggler fan?"

"Cut it out," Panther said irritably, "I'm happy because Dawood is about to have bad luck, and those closely associated with him aren't doing well lately either."

From his look, Ron guessed that person was Hadkhan.

In total, Ajaj had arrested over 170 suspects in just a few months, seized over 2,000 kilograms of black soap, a large quantity of firearms and military weapons, and over 500 grenades.

The news shocked all of Mumbai; this wasn't the scale of gang conflict, but rather clearly looked like military equipment stockpiled for civil war.

Ordinary gangs couldn't possibly acquire so many weapons; after interrogation, all clues pointed towards Dawood.

All sectors of Mumbai and the Indian government were convinced of this, as there was already evidence that Dawood was supported by elements in Pakistan.

Only elements in Pakistan to the north would have the capability to provide such a massive supply of firearms and ammunition.

It was said that the entire operation was planned by the gang godfather Dawood during a meeting in Dubai, and all attendees swore absolute secrecy by placing their hands on the Quran.

But he wasn't in Mumbai after all, and many details required local gang support.

Hadkhan was the most suspicious, as he and Dawood were both from the same community, giving him a clear motive.

Although the police didn't have enough evidence, even a biased investigation was enough to cause him significant trouble.

Panther was happy about this; he felt a sense of satisfaction as if a great revenge had been exacted.

"Even Dawood only takes sixty percent of the gang's profits, and the other forty percent is divided among the subordinates. What about Hadkhan? I didn't even get one percent."

"Aren't you afraid he'll hear you saying this?" Ron asked.

"He's known I'm dissatisfied for a long time and doesn't treat me as one of his own, but he needs me." Panther was somewhat smug, a secret on the verge of being revealed at the corner of his mouth.

But Ron didn't ask; he wasn't interested in gang secrets, he just wanted to make money.

"I heard that pharmaceutical factory from last time had trouble. What about the medicine this time?"

"Yeah, brother. Look at the good things you guys did! Treating us Brazilians like lab rats?" Luca, finally finding an opportunity, immediately chimed in.

"I was just following orders." Panther pushed the responsibility away completely.

"You were the one who got those medicines; only a fool would believe you have nothing to do with this."

Luca started arguing with Panther; they haggled for a long time, with only one goal in mind: the price.

Finally, Panther, feeling "guilty," lowered the purchase price slightly and received Luca's "forgiveness."

"My ship will be here in a week, that won't be a problem, right?" Luca asked.

"Of course, this time it's all top-quality medicine, from well-known Indian brands like Ranbaxy, Sun Pharma, and Cipla." Panther guaranteed.

His enthusiasm was much higher than last time because he had usable connections through these channels. With just a little insignificant manipulation, he could get a profit margin higher than the ten percent Hadkhan had promised.

After agreeing on the transaction details, Luca started pestering Ron again on the way back.

"Brother, this time there shouldn't be a problem, right? You could totally send someone to Brazil with us."

"How much of a cut are you planning to give me?"

"Fifteen percent! After one trip to Brazil, it will triple or quadruple, super easy."

"I'd rather maintain the current model." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Don't, brother! This is a win-win situation, you have to consider it." Luca became anxious.

"Twenty percent, for the top-tier medicine from the leprosy slum, we split it evenly."

"Deal!" Luca raised his hand.

Ron smiled and high-fived him; this deal wasn't a loss.

Previously, for a hundred-thousand-dollar business, Ron would take thirty thousand, and Luca and his crew could earn around two hundred thousand dollars from one trip.

Now, the one hundred thousand dollars is invested in the business, and Ron owns twenty percent of the shares. After one trip to Brazil, the total revenue is three hundred and fifty thousand dollars; he takes seventy thousand, and the rest goes to Luca and his crew.

The medicine from the laboratory is calculated separately, split evenly between both parties. One controls the channels, and the other is responsible for the market; it's very fair.

This is indeed a win-win business, beneficial to both sides.

"Oh, by the way, Rajiv is going to Brazil with the ship this time."

"Rajiv?" Luca was startled, "That boy from the leprosy slum?!"

"His English is good, and he's been learning Portuguese recently; he's very motivated."

"Shit! You're poisoning them!" Luca yelled.

"Don't talk nonsense, he's been to the hospital and has a health examination report."

Luca couldn't hold back; what did he need that damn thing for?

"Don't forget, the top-tier medicine from the lab will all come from him in the future."

Ron's single sentence made Luca back down again.

He had secretly contacted Brazil using a satellite phone about the canvas bag he took back last time; the initial valuation was as high as tens of thousands of dollars.

It seemed a certain laboratory was interested; India's pharmaceutical technology might not compare to Europe and America, but it's quite competitive in South America.

As June approached, the weather, besides getting hotter, also became a bit more闷热 (muggy).

Experienced Mumbaikars knew the rainy season was coming, a little earlier than last year.

The fourth factory building of Sur Electronics had been completed, and the electric fan production line was being prepared.

"If we use iron fan blades, we'll need a stamping production line, estimated second-hand cost is 1.5 million rupees.

There's also the motor assembly line, with a similar budget. These are all production plans based on semi-automation standards."

Ashish had now been promoted to Technical Director; he had ten engineers and thirty technicians under him.

This technical plan for electric fans was the result of their combined efforts.

"Switch to plastic fan blades," Ron drew a line with his pen, making the decision, "The important thing is cost; the price of our electric fans must be lower than the market price."

It was still the cost-performance route: open the market with low prices first, survive, and then talk about other things.

Since it's cost-performance, what's wrong with slightly lower quality?

He believed Indian users would adapt, after all, it was cheap.

"We also need to hire another batch of workers, at least one hundred people to implement the shift plan," Production Manager Anis also made a request.

"I'll give you eighty spots." Ron cut it down again.

There was nothing he could do; he didn't have any extra money.

Building the factory cost 3 million rupees, buying equipment would cost around another 2 million, and the 6 million revenue from April was all invested back in.

The renovation of the other few semi-automated air cooler production lines hadn't started yet, with an initial budget of 10 million rupees.

This had already consumed most of May's profit; there simply wasn't enough money to spend.

The rapid expansion phase of a factory is like this; the speed of capital recovery is far behind the demand.

Ron had considered banks, but corruption in India was too severe, coupled with high interest rates, it was actually better to take out high-interest loans.

This was why he was keen on various smuggling activities; that stuff made money fast, and it was in dollars.

"Boss," Ashish spoke up again at this time, "Don't forget about the municipal elections this year; those people want us to provide sponsorship fees."

Ron felt a bit of a headache; he had forgotten about this. Currently, among Mumbai's political parties, only the Congress Party and the BJP were major players.

The former was the ruling party in Maharashtra, which Ron couldn't afford to offend. The latter was closely tied to Shiv Sena, and he couldn't betray his own community.

"Give 400,000 rupees to the Congress Party, and 600,000 to the BJP. Haroos, you handle the accounts."

"No problem, Mr. Sur." Haroos was experienced in this kind of work.

No one in the conference room showed any surprise; bribery was a legitimate means in India, and every company couldn't avoid it.

Ron didn't offend either side but leaned more towards the BJP. His Brahmin status decided everything; he had no choice.

He had to pay this money, otherwise, those officials would find all sorts of strange reasons to make trouble for Sur Electronics.

After telling them they had to get the electric fan production line ready before July, Ron returned to his office to check his small stash.

He had 250,000 US dollars in cash hidden at home; this was money saved from smuggling medicine, forging passports, and the travel company.

Ron didn't dare spend a single cent because this US dollar stash would be of great use in the future.

The industrial base here in India was too weak; most equipment had to be imported, and they couldn't even handle things like motors.

If his Sur Electronics wanted to grow and expand, it would inevitably need to import equipment and technology from abroad; he was just building up his reserves now.

Besides the US dollars, Ron also had 3 million rupees in his personal account, most of which came from Sur Electronics.

He was barely considered wealthy, but still far from being a true magnate.

"Baba" Raju brought him a cup of tea.

"Hmm," Ron took a leisurely sip, "I heard Ashish is buying a house?"

"He's just bragging," Raju chided, but her face still showed joy, "But maybe next year, he's been waiting for this day for a long time."

"He should have his own apartment," Ron nodded, "After all, it's a bit unreasonable for the technical director of Sur Electronics to live in a slum."

"This is all thanks to Baba's help." Raju lowered her eyes submissively.

She had long since changed out of the sari she wore when they first met; now she wore a pretty blouse and trousers, and her hair was styled.

She looked more like a city woman, a secretary, rather than a simple Indian girl.

However, one thing hadn't changed, and that was her skill in serving people.

Making tea, making coffee, giving massages, she was good at everything.

Raju was more like a maid; even things like wiping Ron's face were done by her personally.

The rarest thing was that she was also literate and helped organize a lot of documents. Yes, a multi-functional secretary.

It was summer, and Ron felt a bit hot. Should he play office games with Raju?

He was tempted, but the phone on the desk rang.

"Ron, do you have time recently?"

"Mary?" Ron, whose arousal was abruptly cut off, blurted out, "Want some red sausage?"

"Nonsense!" She laughed and scolded, "Come to Bandra, let's discuss the movie."

"Wow, I smell the scent of a Bollywood queen."