I am a master in India

Chapter 23: A Large Portion
"Hey ladies, if you want to have some fun, I can help you get in touch with some great guys."

"Can't you? We can pay for it."

The small-faced girl stretched out her fingers and ran them down Ron's collar, silently unbuttoning his buttons along the way. Her technique was so exquisite that it was breathtaking.

The other girl behind her licked her lips playfully, her charming eyes lingering on Ron's muscular chest.

"Wait a minute," Ron grabbed the girl's wrist, "this is not within my scope of service."

"Don't be so nervous. You're the only Indian man we've been interested in in two months here. The others... sorry, this isn't racist, but the other Indian men are just disgusting."

As she said this, the girl had already grabbed Ron's hand and pressed it against her chest.

"Miss, you have a great figure. But my religious beliefs don't allow me to do this. By the way, what should I call you?"

Mary, with her petite face and bright red hair, was very pretty, with ice-blue eyes that always seemed to hold a smile.

"Lena," another girl with a round face, blonde hair, and slightly thick lips. Very sexy and also very beautiful.

The two girls looked at each other. "Are you serious? There is such a religion in India?"

"It's absolutely true. There are so many religions in India that I can't even count them all."

"Well, we don't mean to offend anyone's beliefs."

Mary stepped back slightly, and Ron's palm became empty.

To be honest, this feeling of oppression is very nostalgic, but home runs are not.

No one knew if he would get into trouble after playing poker with them, and Ron didn't want to guess.

As I said before, the waters of Mumbai are too deep. The more you get involved, the more obvious this feeling becomes.

Buttoning his shirt again, Ron put on a gentlemanly smile and said, "That's all for today then?"

"Before you leave, do you mind if we discuss one more business deal?"

"what?"

Mary winked at Lena, who put her backpack on the bed and took out things one by one.

They are all sophisticated digital products, including cameras, walkmans, and even game consoles.

Soon there were seven or eight things on the bed, occupying about a quarter of the bed surface.

"Tell me, you didn't rob a tour group."

Mary chuckled, and Lena simply blew him a kiss.

"Alright," Ron raised his hands in surrender, "according to the rules, I'm not supposed to ask where these things come from."

"Someone said you had great credibility, so we made a special trip to Mumbai."

"So they didn't originally belong to Bombay?"

"uh-huh"

"That's no problem."

Ron gave a light high five. It was one of his principles not to sell stolen goods in the same city.

"So you can help us find a good way?"

"I need to see your goods first." Ron took out a pair of white gloves from his pocket.

He loves what he does and is a professional when it comes to inspecting goods.

White gloves won't damage the customer's belongings or leave fingerprints, making them a must-have for black market enthusiasts.

Well, actually, only Ron is so particular. The other Indians just grab them without paying any attention to your words.

The most valuable items on the bed are four cameras, including Ricoh, Nikon and Canon, with brand new prices ranging from roughly US$400 to US$800.

The Walkmans were all Sony, and the street price was around $200 when new. The remaining Nintendo handheld was worth very little, at most $150.

After carefully looking through everything, Ron nodded with satisfaction.

"The quality is pretty good, there shouldn't be a shortage of buyers."

"Yes!" Mary and Lena cheered and high-fived each other.

"So when are we going to complete this deal?" The two seemed a little impatient.

Ron took off his gloves and tilted his head, "Bring your things and follow me." Small businesses like this can be found everywhere in Mumbai, and this is not the first time Ron has dealt with them.

Just last week, a tourist his company received asked him if he could help sell a camera.

At that time, Ron realized that there was profit in this. Sure enough, after asking around in the black market, he opened a new door.

India's black market sells everything from human lives to gold luxury goods to ordinary Bollywood movie tickets. There's nothing you can't buy, only things you can't imagine.

The black market is also scattered across large and small markets in Mumbai according to the types of goods traded.

To deal with these scarce electronic products, you have to go to the "Thieves Market" which is well-known among the locals.

"Joel Market, Mumbai's largest flea market, has more things here than a department store."

"Is it safe?" Looking at the noisy and crowded crowd in the market, Mary felt both excited and worried.

Ron smiled, opened the car door and walked straight towards a policeman.

Then, in front of Mary and Lena's shocked eyes, he stuffed 50 rupees into the policeman's pocket.

"It's safe now." Ron smiled and motioned for them to get out of the car.

"God! You're openly bribing a policeman?" And this when they were carrying a backpack full of items of unknown origin.

"Yes, it's a legitimate bribe, a specialty from India."

Ron spoke so frankly that Mary and the others couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or introducing the customs and culture of India.

"So this is a smuggling operation with police protection?"

“Don’t be so harsh, we usually call it an unofficial duty-free zone.”

Unofficial duty-free zone? Mary's poor brain is not as big as her big thunder.

It took her a long time to realize that the two of them were saying the same thing.

Ron, who was familiar with the place, took Mary and Lena to a small shop in the market.

There was a handwritten sign on the open shop door.

Radio Clinic - mainly engaged in electrical appliance repair and electronic equipment sales.

The shop owner, Vikrant Deshpande.

Vikrant Deshpande is a stocky man in his fifties, with a bald spot on his head, gray hair, and thick white eyebrows.

He sat behind a solid wooden counter, surrounded by a radio blasting away, a Walkman that had been torn into pieces, and boxes of spare parts.

"Ron, welcome again!" Vikrant Deshpande's attention was attracted by the other two figures at the door.

“Vikram, there’s big business today!”

"I saw it, theirs are really big, even bigger than those of Indian women!"

Ron glanced at him, then turned to look at Mary behind him.

"I just measured it with my hands, and it's plenty."

"Oh, damn." Vikram swallowed hard. "I probably can't afford both of them."

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?"

Ron and Vikram were communicating in Marathi, but when it reached the ears of Mary and the others, it turned into gibberish.

"Nothing, I'm trying to help you build a relationship and get him to give you a good price."

Mary and Lena were skeptical, as their intuition told them that the old Indian man had a vulgar look in his eyes.

"Okay, take your things out."

"Right here?"

"Where do you want it? Some dark, dark room?"

Mary shrugged, and she and Lena placed the contents of the backpack on the counter one by one.

"Damn, this business is more exciting than I thought!" Vikrant swallowed again.

(End of this chapter)