I'm a Master in India

After getting out of prison, Ron took Old Dutt to Thackeray's villa.

He had called Thackeray before leaving, and the other party had agreed to the meeting.

Old Dutt didn't go empty-handed; there was a luggage bag in the car's trunk.

It wasn't a backpack or a suitcase, but a large canvas bag used for long trips.

Besides these, Old Dutt also made a few calls; he was determined to satisfy Thackeray's vanity.

For his son, he was willing to sacrifice his old reputation.

As the car drove along the coastal road, a giant movie poster ahead caught Ron's eye.

It was Sanjay's new film, *Villain*, released this year, which had already grossed over 200 million rupees.

If all went well, this would be the highest-grossing film of the year.

Sanjay played a killer hired by the mafia, and the movie poster read: "A perfect portrayal of 'The Professional'."

Ironically, this "killer" was currently in prison, and they were on their way to get him out.

The peak of his acting career, and this guy was just too unlucky.

Getting someone like this out didn't weigh on Ron's conscience at all.

Which MLA in Uttar Pradesh wasn't a murderer? Compared to them, Sanjay was small fry.

The car drove through the gate of Thackeray's villa.

After undergoing a security check, Ron took Old Dutt into the living room.

Thackeray was waiting there.

When he saw the large luggage bag in Old Dutt's hand, a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"Sir, I did wrong before!" Old Dutt bowed, touched the large feet in front of him, and spoke through tears.

Thackeray was startled by his action, but then a wave of intense satisfaction surged from his heart, making him almost groan aloud.

"You shouldn't have sympathized with those herdsmen," Thackeray said, remaining seated.

"Yes, I was blinded by them before, but now I see clearly," Old Dutt said, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Have a seat," Thackeray said, patting his shoulder, completing the 'blessing'.

"As soon as I entered, I saw the Madam.

It was she who made me understand all of this."

Old Dutt stood up and performed a namaste towards the portrait of Thackeray's deceased wife in the living room.

Just as Thackeray thought they were about to get down to business, Old Dutt's next action left him dumbfounded.

He took an oil lamp from his attendant, lit it, and walked step by step towards the portrait.

He whimpered, holding the oil lamp and circling it clockwise in front of the portrait, muttering something under his breath.

"What are you doing?" It took Thackeray a while to react.

"I am praying for the Madam's forgiveness.

It was she who made me realize in time.

I pray that she blesses my son, who was framed and is now suffering innocently in prison."

Old Dutt was weeping bitterly, his expression as devout as if he were speaking to a deity.

Thackeray turned his head, his gaze questioning.

Ron, standing nearby, shrugged, indicating that Old Dutt was doing this of his own accord.

Alright, Thackeray felt comfortable again.

Just as he was about to speak, a servant reported that two producers had arrived.

They were looking for Old Dutt; a film was urgently waiting for his decision.

Thackeray waved his hand, telling the two producers to wait outside.

"Dutt, you can come and sit now."

After enjoying Old Dutt's fire ritual, Thackeray finally leaned back on the sofa, feeling satisfied.

"No, sir, I must show enough respect to the Madam," Old Dutt said, weeping and circling the portrait of Thackeray's wife again and again.

Outside, there were already seven or eight producers waiting for him.

They were pacing anxiously but didn't dare to enter and disturb.

"Alright, we can talk about your son now," Thackeray said, having sensed his sincerity.

"You are truly too kind," Old Dutt wiped his eyes and handed the oil lamp to his attendant.

"Those guys at the court indeed made an unreasonable judgment.

Just based on a disassembled rifle, they want to convict him?

It's simply absurd.

There are so many herdsmen gangs in Mumbai, who among them doesn't have a gun?

Why don't they convict those people?"

Thackeray was also at odds with the Mumbai court.

Judge Patel not only relentlessly pursued the bombing case but also held onto the Shiv Sena's atrocities in late December last year.

This completely enraged Thackeray, but unfortunately, the Shiv Sena's influence couldn't reach the court; that was another system.

"You're right, sir.

Sanjay was completely framed by Kamal.

He had nothing to do with this matter; he was filming abroad when the explosion happened," Old Dutt explained hastily.

"I heard about your competition with Kamal.

That guy is indeed unreliable," Thackeray nodded.

He didn't have much liking for people from the Congress Party.

As for whether this person in front of him was included, it all depended on the sincerity in his bag.

"Only you can save him.

That child has never done anything bad.

He wouldn't even step on an ant usually."

"I will call the police station.

Your son can come home tomorrow," Thackeray said, waving his hand dismissively.

He was indeed qualified to speak like that.

Only Thackeray in all of Mumbai could be above the law.

"Sir..." Old Dutt wanted to cry again.

Fortunately, Ron gave him a look, signaling him to stop, old man.

Next, Ron acted as a go-between, and Old Dutt shared many secrets from the entertainment industry, making Thackeray laugh heartily.

Thackeray was a typical Mumbaiite: entertainment first, politics second.

If the Indian Prime Minister came, he wouldn't go out to greet him.

But if Amitabh Bachchan came here, he would definitely make time and be full of anticipation.

This was also why he agreed to help.

Old Dutt was a legendary Indian actor and director.

This influential Bollywood doyen bowing and scraping before him was very satisfying to Thackeray.

The three chatted and laughed for a while longer before Ron took Old Dutt to leave Thackeray's villa.

"Mr. Sur, Sanjay's rescue this time is all thanks to you," he sincerely thanked Ron back in the car.

"The one Sanjay should truly thank is you, his father," Ron waved his hand, signaling the driver to start the car.

"He should have learned a lesson this time," Old Dutt sighed.

He only had this one son, and also a daughter.

But the Dutt family legacy ultimately had to be carried on by a man, so Old Dutt had no choice but to run around for him.

"I don't plan to make movies anymore in the future.

Here are a few projects that have great potential.

I heard about your Sun Entertainment company.

If you're interested, you can invest in all of these."

Old Dutt handed Ron a document.

On it were movie scripts he had carefully selected.

Based on his many years of industry experience, making a profit wouldn't be difficult.

"Mr. Dutt, are you planning to..."

"I will focus on public affairs.

I don't have the energy to manage Bollywood anymore," he had already made up his mind.

Sanjay's incident this time had served as a wake-up call for him.

In India, if you want to wield influence, you must participate in politics.

What good is having money?

He had made movies for so many years, and his family's wealth was more than enough for several generations to live comfortably.

But in the end, he still had to bow and perform the foot-touching ritual in front of his former arch-rival.

This was a great humiliation for him, and only politics could wash all of it away.

The movie projects Old Dutt gave Ron were his thank-you gift.

Although he was preparing to retire from the entertainment industry, his status and connections were still there.

With just a word, Ron could become the investor for these films.

Very well, everyone got what they needed, and a bond of goodwill was left behind.

Ron took the document, gave it a quick glance, and put it away with satisfaction.

They were all films by big directors and big stars.

The possibility of these films being blockbusters was very high.

Low-budget films were easy to make a steady profit from, but most of the time they only made small money.

It wasn't every time you could get lucky like with *Jai Santoshi Maa*.

To truly become a mainstream force in Bollywood, participating in these big productions was an essential step.

Sun Entertainment was moving fast enough; it had been established for less than a year.

Being an investor in Bollywood was a completely different experience from Hollywood across the ocean.

From its inception until now, the Indian government actually hasn't thought highly of the film industry.

It classified entertainment as a secondary industry, with a priority even lower than a small factory.

Under strict government restrictions, producers could not get loans from national banks.

No money, no movies.

Producers had no choice but to find private investors, which was also not an easy task.

With the government taking the lead, businessmen outside the industry were also very cautious about investing in films.

Finally, it was the mafia that took on the role of producers.

The mafia had a large amount of black money, which was untaxed and couldn't be deposited in banks.

Investing in movies was a very attractive business.

A hit movie could not only make a profit but also launder the money.

Killing two birds with one stone, so from the 1980s onwards, the mafia began to enter Bollywood on a large scale.

With this hot money, Bollywood's development has been very rapid in recent years.

Films grossing over 100 million rupees came one after another, leading more people to flock to the entertainment industry.

Now, films made by famous directors are not short of funds; many people are lining up to invest.

Ron getting Old Dutt's personal promise was, of course, equivalent to taking a shortcut.

However, having been influenced by the mafia for too long, Bollywood has never been able to escape their shadow.

These people are quick to put up money, but they also have a terrifying rule: you can only make money, not lose it.

If you take the mafia's money and several of your films flop consecutively, losing your life is a common occurrence.

Over time, Bollywood producers became very respectful of investors, fearing to offend those they shouldn't.

"You never know who you are talking to, because no one labels who they are on their forehead," said an experienced producer.

Under this atmosphere, it's not surprising that Bollywood investors can interfere with film production.

In short, they have immense power.

Is there such a good thing in Hollywood?

It's even possible for investors to be completely ripped off.

Having gotten what he wanted, Ron's trip wasn't in vain.

That tiger personally spoke, a retrial of Sanjay Dutt's case might be unlikely, but bail should be no problem.

For rich people, what's the difference between bail and getting out of prison?

Expecting the Indian judicial system to re-prosecute Sanjay?

Don't be silly.

The Mumbai court has a pile of cases that have been backlogged for over twenty years.

Many of the parties involved have already died, and the case files are still gathering dust.

However, what Ron didn't know was that Thackeray had indeed personally spoken, but this time it didn't work.

Ajai Lal, this reckless man, refused the tiger's order for release.

He was the only person in Mumbai who dared to disregard Thackeray's orders.

Thackeray was furious.