I am a master in India

Chapter 83 Human Train
Victoria Station was as busy as ever. Leon had never been to a train station in India, as he had mostly traveled by plane.

The metal sky formed by the arched wavy ceiling extends exaggeratedly into the distance, and the pigeons are the little angels in the metal sky.

They fly from one colony to another, flying so high that their figures are barely visible.

Below, a throng of people clamors, densely packed into this magnificent railway station, renowned for its meticulously detailed facade, towers, external decorations, and sheer grandeur.

Leon found it unbelievable and at the same time extremely awkward. The fact that such a work of art could be found in such a filthy and messy India was odd because it was, as expected, filthy and messy.

He had been at the Rowan Company's reception area inside the train station for nearly an hour. The platform outside was crowded with people, luggage, bundles of goods, and all kinds of living and recently dead livestock.

Yes, there were people holding sheep and dogs, all waiting for the train. A few chickens, probably suffocated, had been abandoned on the platform by their owners.

Between the two immobile trains, a large group of people milled back and forth, and the man called Anand ran into the crowd. This was the fifth time Leon had seen him leave, and a few minutes later, he saw him return for the fifth time.

"Please, friend, you can sit down." Leon couldn't help but persuade.

"You can't sit, sir." Anand shook his head.

"Shall we get on the train?"

"You can't get on the train either. It's not the right time yet."

Leon looked helplessly at Ron who was leisurely beside him, "What time did you get the ticket for?"

"It's not important. Indian railway station timetables are useless. You'll suffer greatly if you look at them."

"But we've already been waiting for an hour. Will the train be late that long?"

"It's almost there, it won't be long. Listen, listen carefully!" Ron listened attentively.

There was a broadcast, probably in English, with a peculiarly inflected voice, like the voice of an angry drunk, channeled through a series of old cone-shaped loudspeakers.

Anand listened to the radio, his expression changing from worry to anguish.

"Now! Now! Sir! Quick! We have to hurry!"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You just asked me to sit here like a bronze Buddha for almost an hour, and now you're suddenly in such a hurry?"

"Stop talking nonsense, man! This is an ordinary ticket for the Indian train. Come on, let me show you the real India!" Ron pulled him towards the platform.

"Yes, there is no time to build a big Buddha. Ask for forgiveness from this saint!" Anand shouted. "You must be prepared!"

"What?" Leon stumbled and ran after them.

"Here he comes!" Ron suddenly laughed.

"Who's coming?" Leon was now confused.

Whatever the announcement said, it had set the crowd in motion. They rushed toward the two stopped trains, shoving their luggage and themselves through the doors and windows.

A man walked out from the noisy crowd and walked towards Ron and the others. He was tall and strong, one of the tallest men Leon had ever seen in his life.

He was two meters tall, muscular, with a long, thick beard hanging down on his sturdy chest. He was wearing the uniform of a porter at Bombay Railway Station: hat, shirt, and shorts all made of yellow linen.

"Him!" Ron pointed at Leon beside him and said to the man, "Take him up."

The porter, who was experienced in dealing with foreigners, was the first to extend his hands. Leon, thinking he wanted to shake hands, extended his hands as well.

He pushed Leon's hand away, his expression telling him how much he hated the gesture, then slid his hands under Leon's armpits, lifted him up, and placed him next to the luggage to keep it out of his way.

Leon weighed over 80 kilograms, and being lifted so easily was both embarrassing and exciting. He immediately decided that as long as it wasn't too embarrassing, he would cooperate with the porter.

"Just wait and see, mate." Ron laughed from behind.

"Damn it, you didn't tell me there was such an arrangement." Leon was so angry that he spoke directly in German.

As he spoke, the big man took his backpack and held it on his head, waving his other strong arm towards him.

Ron immediately pushed Leon behind him and grabbed the big man's yellow linen shirt.

"Here, grab this shirt."

"what?"

"Hold on tight! Don't let go! Give me your word that you will never let go of this shirt."

Seeing his surprisingly serious expression, Leon couldn't help but nodded in agreement and grabbed the porter's shirt tightly.

"Very good, never let it go!"

"Ron, make him say it word for word: I will never let go of this shirt," Anand urged.

"Please, I'm telling you, I'll never let go of this shirt. Are you satisfied?" Leon did as he was told speechlessly.

"Goodbye! Leon!" Ron stood there and waved vigorously.

"See you later, sir!" Anand ran into the crowd.

"What! Where are you going? Ron! Ron!"

"Okay! Let's go!" the porter roared in a low voice.

He turned and walked into the crowd, dragging Leon with him. With each step, he lifted his massive knees and kicked his feet outward. Those in front of him automatically dispersed, while those who remained were pushed aside. He shouted threats, insults, and curses as he fought his way through the suffocating mass. Every time his powerful legs lifted and kicked forward, someone fell and was pushed aside.

There was a great commotion among the crowd, a clamor that beat like drums against Leon's skin. The crowd shouted and screamed as if they were fleeing.

The overhead loudspeaker blared an incoherent, unintelligible broadcast. The whistles, bells, and whistles continued in a wailing cacophony.

Leon felt like he was being dragged by a bulldozer and slammed into a carriage. That carriage, like the others, was already fully loaded, and the door was blocked by a thick wall of people, a wall of flesh made up of legs, backs, and heads.

It looked impossible to get through, and Leon was about to back out. But the porter roared, and he subconsciously grabbed the shirt in his hands.

With the help of the porter's invincible and powerful knees, Leon squeezed into the carriage. He continued to move forward with the shirt in his hand and stopped in the middle of the carriage.

Leon guessed that the carriage was so full that even the giant porters had to stop. He clutched the shirt tightly in his hands, determined not to let go.

The noisy carriage was packed like a can of sardines, and gradually Leon heard a voice.

"Sir! Sir! Sir!"

After a while, Leon was sure that it was the porter's cry.

He dropped the shirt from his hand and looked around, then realized that Anand, who had disappeared earlier, was stretching out to occupy the entire bench.

It was a window seat, and Anand was shielding it with his body, wrapping his legs around the aisle armrest and holding onto the window armrest with both hands.

Six men had already squeezed into the carriage, and each of them was trying with all their might and brutality to drive him away.

They pulled his hair, hit him, kicked him, and slapped him. Anand, trapped in a tight circle, had no power to fight back, but when his eyes met Leon's, he suddenly smiled triumphantly.

"Hurry! Come here!" he shouted.

Seeing this scene, Leon felt a surge of anger coming from nowhere, and he pushed the crowd away in anger.

He didn't care about being a gentleman; he couldn't bear to watch the man in front of him get beaten. He had suffered because he had fought for his position.

While the crowd was leaning, Anand immediately put his legs on the ground, and Leon also sat down immediately in tacit understanding.

The remaining space on the bench immediately triggered a new round of competition.

The porter dropped the luggage at Leon's feet, his face, hair, and shirt soaked with sweat.

He glanced at Anand, then nodded out the window as a sign of respect, and left without looking back.

It was not until then that Leon noticed that Ron was standing outside the window of this carriage.

"How much did you pay that guy?" he shouted at Ron.

"Seventy rupees!"

Seventy rupees, Leon couldn't believe it. The guy had rushed into the train with him and his luggage, and only earned about two dollars.

"That guy is not easy to hire," said Anand, who stood up and straightened his clothes. "His knees are very famous, and many people are vying for them. I told him that there was something wrong with your brain, so he took the job."

"Retarded! You told him I'm retarded?" Leon's expression collapsed.

No wonder the guy outside kept asking me to hold on to the porter's shirt, and the way the porter looked at me.
"No, it's not." Anand frowned, thinking about what word to use. "I think 'silly' is a better word."

"Let's be clear, you told him I was a fool and he agreed to help us because of that."

"Yes," grinned Anand, "but you're more than just a little bit stupid. You're very, very slow."

"Okay, I understand." Leon has let go of his stubbornness.

"I have to go, sir." Anand said goodbye to him, then puffed up his round belly and slipped out of the window.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Leon still remembered how he was beaten just now.

"It's okay, not even a scratch."

"Bon voyage to Derry, mate!" Ron laughed.

"Damn, you surprised me!" Leon also laughed. He had the illusion of surviving a disaster.

"Ordinary carriages in India are like that. You need a very good tour guide, like our Anand, to squeeze on board, don't you?"

"I agree. Well, thank you very much for your generosity!" Leon waved out the window, his pocket still holding the extra hundred rupees Ron had given him for taxi fare.

"Remember to give up your seat to the people next to you!" Anand also waved goodbye to him.

Anand's face fell only after the train disappeared. "Ron, we could have used our connections to get him into first class."

"You don't understand. Only if he has an unforgettable experience will he remember that we helped him. If it was first class, he would probably sleep until he got to Delhi and forget about it."

"So the beating I received was not in vain?" Anand touched his face.

"Of course!" Ron laughed again, "Come with me in a couple of days to discuss a big deal."

"Where?"

"Go buy some land! I want to be a landlord in Mumbai!" Ron waved his hand proudly and turned away.

(End of this chapter)