I am a master in India

Chapter 139 Dividing Conscience
Kavya works as a social reporter at The Times of India, mainly covering local news in Mumbai or social news in other states.

The events reported by these journalists were usually not that important, such as wives being burned to death because of insufficient dowries, children being sold for silver, being sold into slavery, and infanticide.

In India, they are too common and not stand out enough.

It is usually handled by new journalists like Kavya, because no one will pay attention to what they write anyway.

When she said she wanted to write a report for Soul Electric, Ron was a little surprised, but far from surprised.

"How are you going to write it?" he asked.

"Look, this is the material I collected." She handed over a stack of papers.

This is Kavia's apartment. The long curved table is piled high with messy manuscripts. The already crowded living room becomes even more cramped after two people are squeezed in.

Ron sat on the faded sofa, casually flipping through the material while Kaavia explained it verbally to him.

"There was an elderly man with poor eyesight who miraculously recovered his sight after using a water-cooled air conditioner for two months.

Now he is living well, without a cane or care. His whole family is convinced that it is your divine power that has made everything possible.

They worshipped the water-cooling machine and prayed to it every morning and evening, day after day.

After word of the incident spread, the slum hut where the old man lived has become a kind of holy place.

Crowds of people came from all over the city to see this miraculous old man who had regained his sight. For a businessman in the slums, it was the best thing that had ever happened in his life.

The influx of pilgrims made their business flourish, and the old man became rich, richer than anyone could imagine.

The pilgrims threw them money, one or two rupees at a time, then more and more.

It is said that they are even planning to set up a charity fund to treat the poor in the slums.”

"That sounds like a fairy tale." Ron's expression was very interesting.

“Yaar, you also think it has the potential to become a front page, right?” Kavya screamed happily.

"Isn't that too much of an exaggeration?" Ron blushed, a rare occurrence. "What if someone really believes that water conditioning can cure diseases? And what about my supernatural powers?"

“Hey!” Kavya poked his chest. “This is India, man. People like to believe these things. This country’s order is drawn from mythology.”

"Okay." Ron stopped worrying about it. There were too many abstract things about India, and this one wouldn't make a difference.

But he was a little confused. Kavya was a student who had returned from abroad. She should be disgusted by such news from India.

In response to Ron's question, Kaavia smiled contemptuously.

"Who do you think I'm doing this for, Ang?" She stretched out her red-nailed foot and tapped it lightly on his leg.

"Oh, you're wearing saffron today." Ron glanced sideways.

"Brother, your weakness is revealed again, isn't it?" She looked smug.

"You're done. No one can save you. You don't even know what you've provoked. Just wait!"

Five minutes later, the folding bed in Kavya's bedroom fell apart.

"Damn it, you should get a new apartment."

"That bastard landlord swore me up and down that this folding bed was perfect for two people."

"What should I do?" Ron stood there, helpless.

"Let's go to the bathroom. There's a balcony there where you can hold on."

There was a glass window on the balcony, and Kavya acted like a gecko.

When doing business in India, sometimes the road goes astray.

Ron clearly wanted to make Soul Electric a technology company, but in some slums, its reputation was no different from that of the gods and Buddhas in the Ramayana.

At the construction site of the fourth row of workshops at Suer Electric, there were slum residents who sneaked in to pray.

Ron didn't know what to say when he heard the news.

India is a really outrageous place.

Most people don't even have basic dialectical skills, and their cognition seems to have remained stuck in centuries ago.

But there are also benefits. The sales of standard water air conditioners in Mumbai have skyrocketed.

It's only mid-May, and Suer Electric has already shipped 3 water air conditioners, far higher than the figures for the previous two months.

Ron is looking forward to seeing how much money he will receive in June. He plans to return to Uttar Pradesh if he has enough funds.

Although the Sur family had fallen on hard times, they still held some influence in the local area. As long as the conditions were similar, it wouldn't be impossible to establish a Sur Electric branch in Uttar Pradesh.

Inland areas are indeed more suitable for products like water-cooled air conditioners. Moving factories to local production can save a lot of costs.

The monsoon in Mumbai is coming soon, a little earlier than last year, and the sales of Sur Electrical Appliance Factory will inevitably be affected.

Taking advantage of this time to go back to his hometown and dispose of his parents' ashes, little Niya can also put her mind at ease.

"Boss!" Ashish is like Sha Seng, always showing up to report bad news.

"What's the matter? Tell me." Ron inspected the construction site and turned to leave.

"People from the municipal committee are here." "Huh? What are they here for?" Ron didn't understand what the relationship was between Sur Electric and the municipal government.

"Slums, you forgot." Ashish looked a little anxious.

Ron thought for a moment before he suddenly remembered that Ashish had said that once the slums got out of control, the municipal council would take real action.

"Are there a lot more people in the slums?" he asked.

"They were all attracted by the last recruitment. I don't know the exact number."

Ron followed Ashish to the slums in the north. After all, he had to go to the scene to see the matter, since he had the power of attorney here.

"The one coming this time is Kerna, the demolition king of Mumbai." Ashish was very nervous about the name.

Kelna is a commissioner of the City Hall's Demolition Office. Because of his ruthless style, he has made countless enemies in the Shiv Sena and other political parties.

He worked for nearly twenty years and demolished a total of 285,000 illegal buildings.

Not to mention the Shiv Sena's properties, he even demolished the hotel owned by the Dawood gang boss.

Thackeray had no way to deal with him, and Daoud even sent someone to shoot him, but it was no use. Kellner was the kind of person who became more courageous after facing setbacks.

He and Ajay were both rare figures among Mumbai officials and were both touted by newspapers as heroes who saved the city.

When Ron and his team arrived, they saw five or six large dark blue police trucks driving into a seemingly ownerless open space.

There was a row of crescent-shaped slum buildings surrounding it, which seemed to have been built not long ago.

The large trucks were covered with tarpaulins, and according to Ashish, there were police officers inside, at least twenty police officers in each truck.

An uncovered flatbed truck, carrying council workers and equipment, ambled past the parked police vehicles and stopped near the hut.

Several officers emerged from a police truck and deployed the men in two rows.

Council workers jumped from a flatbed truck, each equipped with a rope with a grappling hook at one end.

Throw the grappling hook onto the roof, hook it firmly, and pull the rope. The fragile hut collapses instantly, the whole process taking no more than ten seconds.

The residents inside only had time to pack the most basic things: babies, money and documents.

Everything else was buried in the rubble of the house: a kerosene stove, cooking pots, bags, mattresses, clothes and children's toys.

The crowd scattered in panic, running and shouting.

The demolition was very efficient because the huts were so vulnerable.

It’s not that there was no resistance. Most people living in huts were extremely poor, and they would often resort to desperation and violently resist law enforcement.

Some people threw stones at the demolition workers, calling them traitors, as most of them came from other slums in the surrounding area.

Sometimes they even burned down their own huts. Since they had nothing left, they might as well destroy it.

When the orange flames appeared, the police finally panicked, and Ron also panicked.

This large slum stretches for several thousand meters and is home to tens of thousands of people. If a fire breaks out, the consequences will be unimaginable.

Fortunately, the police were well prepared. There were fire-fighting equipment on their trucks. They put out the fire in no time by turning on the fire extinguisher and the water tap.

Ron hurried over and found Kellner, the leader. "Shouldn't we give them some time?"

"The notice was given seven days ago," Kellner pointed to a notice on the wall of a hut, "but no one paid attention."

"That won't work. They're too emotional." Ron said worriedly.

"Dr. Soule, I know you're a good man. But that won't work in Bombay. There are so many people who need your sympathy that they'll take up all your conscience."

Kellner kindly reminded him that if anything was to be investigated, Ron was somewhat responsible for the slums. He wasn't deliberately trying to make things difficult; he was just doing his job.

What could Ron say? He himself didn't want the slums to expand endlessly, as that would cause trouble.

The demolition work was still in progress, but in order to avoid a recurrence of what had just happened, the workers allowed the people in the hut to move the cooking utensils and other things away first.

The scene that Ashish had described appeared vividly before his eyes: the women and children were covered in dirt, they were penniless and didn't even have water.

The demolition workers rushed over with bared fangs and claws, trying to take away everything they had left.

Many people around were watching silently. Some of them were legal slum dwellers, while others were residents of slums far away from this area.

Everyone was silent, some filled with sympathy, some with fear, and some with pent-up shame.

Shame on the council's power, forcing them to think, "Thank God, not me. Not my house."

"I'm so lucky, my house is fine! I'm a legal slum dweller!" Ashish trembled slightly and his face flushed.

The cry of a baby pierced the silent silence, and a woman rushed to Kellner.

She was holding a swaddling cloth in her hands, and the baby's crying came from there.

Amidst everyone's shocked gazes, the woman grabbed the baby's legs and swung it in the air.

The next second he would throw the children to the ground. They had no chance of survival, so they might as well die now.

"Fuck!" Ron and Kellner both jumped up in shock.

(End of this chapter)