I am a master in India

Chapter 85 Businessman

Sharma’s textile factory is indeed very large, but it is far from the outrageous area of ​​more than 100,000 square meters that he boasted about.

Ron estimated that it was at most one hundred acres, or about 60,000 to 70,000 square meters.

This is reasonable. After all, this is Mumbai, where there are no large plots of land of more than 100,000 square meters.

The conditions in the textile factory were even worse than he had imagined. The only cement brick and tile building was the office area that served as the facade.

It was a three-story building, visible from the street. Many of the windows were empty, without glass, and the shabby wooden door was tilted, like an angel with its wings torn off.

Ron didn't go upstairs first, but instead wandered around the factory. Most of the one hundred acres of land was unused, either covered in miscellaneous items or piled high with garbage.

The entire textile factory had no walls, just barbed wire, like the legal slums. From the traces, it looked like there was once a layer of cloth serving as a barrier.

But now there are only scraps of cloth left on it, and the rest has probably been pulled back by the people in the slums to add bricks and tiles.

Inside the wall were three rows of factory buildings and a warehouse. Although they looked neat, they were built with cheap materials. The iron roof was rusted and the plywood was peeling.

After walking around, Ron felt overwhelmed. There was only land left in this broken place.

"Have you worked here?" he asked the man next to him.

"Of course, I'm here every day. Mr. Sharma asked me to guard this place."

"Is there anything else worth seeing in the workshop?"

"It was emptied of machinery, yarn, cloth, wood, everything that could be used."

"Who emptied it?" Ron asked.

"Mr. Sharma sold the machinery, the workers took the yarn and cloth in exchange for their wages, and the wood was stolen."

"You just said you were guarding this place?"

"Yes."

"What's in there?"

"I don't know!" The man shook his head like a rattle.

"Take us to see Sharma." Ron turned around.

"Sir, don't you want to go in and take a look?" the man asked in surprise.

"No, there's nothing worth seeing anymore."

Sharma was hiding in a nearby house, which he had bought a long time ago, but not many people knew about it.

When Ron came to the door, he confirmed again and again before finally opening it carefully.

Of course, what relieved him the most was that Vinod did not come with him. Anand, this short and stout guy, made him feel more at ease.

There was only him and another servant in the room. This place was a temporary residence as his family had left Mumbai long ago.

"How is it? Are you surprised by my textile factory?" Sharma was very enthusiastic this time.

"I'm really shocked. That place is even worse than I thought! Hundreds of thousands of square meters? Machinery and equipment? Factory buildings? Can you tell me where they are?"

"It was a bit of an accident, but it's not without benefits."

"What do you mean?" Ron watched his performance quietly.

"The workers divided up everything in the warehouse, and they won't cause trouble again. That's their pay, and we're even!"

Sharma's expression was very proud. For him, this was equivalent to getting rid of a big trouble. He knew those workers very well. They had already done the most outrageous thing by picking the lock of the warehouse.

Thanks to Gandhi, he brought the concept of non-violent non-cooperation to India. Even if the Indian people suffer great hardships, they will not resist. They will just endure silently and firmly believe that the suffering they endure in this life will be compensated in the next life.

Look, he withheld half a year's wages from his workers, so what? In the end, all he lost was a warehouse of worthless, cheap cloth.

"Workers have nothing to do with me, but those bargaining chips you mentioned are greatly discounted! 1000 million rupees, this is my latest offer!"

"You can't do this, Mr. Sur!" Sharma said anxiously, "We agreed on this. I even rejected other buyers!"

"Your textile mill is terrible, and my offer is very sincere. There are no other buyers. I've done some research, and I have friends at the newspaper."

Ron's words left Sharma speechless. This was the truth. There were no other buyers. This area had been in turmoil lately because of that Lady Elizabeth.

Anyone who had previously expressed interest in the textile factory had been warned, and now the only one who dared to come to him to discuss the deal was this young man in front of him.

Sharma struggled in extreme pain, and finally shook his head fiercely, "Okay! But I want cash!" Although Ron was a good bargainer, it was still better than the 500 million rupees offered by the gang. That was a real bargain.

But it had to be in cash, as he still had a bank loan. If he went through formal channels, the money would most likely be frozen.

"No problem, but are you interested in US dollars?" Ron smiled harmlessly.

"Dollars!" Sharma shuddered. "Can you get some dollars?"

"Mr. Sharma, it seems you haven't read the business card I gave you at all."

"Oh! God, I remember! You opened a travel company and there are many foreigners!" Sharma was immediately overjoyed. The US dollar, who can refuse the US dollar?

"That's right, but large amounts of US dollars are not that easy to deal with. The exchange rate has to be a little lower." Ron made an insulting gesture towards South Korea.

"What's the price?" Sharma asked.

"1000 million rupees, I can only give you 25 US dollars."

About 40 rupees to the dollar, 1% lower than the official rate. Sharma's eyelids twitched when he figured it out.

"The price on the black market is better than this, and they are only 25% lower than the official price."

"I know, but the black market can't give you $25 in cash all at once. And you'll be targeted. You'll become a fat sheep in their eyes."

At this moment, not only Sharma's eyelids were trembling, but his face was also trembling. What he was most afraid of now was hearing about gangsters.

The gangs in Mumbai not only value human relationships, they also value fighting and killing.

"How can I trust you?" he asked.

"I run a company, just like you." Ron shrugged.

We are all businessmen, so why is there so much fighting and killing?

"Okay, but I'll decide the time and place of the transaction." Between the gangsters and Ron, Sharma trusted the latter more.

"No problem, but I need to check your paperwork first." Ron agreed.

"What procedures?" Sharma pretended to be confused.

“Property rights, taxes, and audit reports.”

"Of course I have this, no problem." He walked into the room reluctantly, and after fiddling with it for a long time, he came out with a pile of scattered documents.

Ron felt a little regretful. He should have brought a lawyer with him earlier. At the very least, the accountant Harus could take over.

He didn't look at the other materials. He focused on property rights, contracts, taxes, etc. However, after reading them twice, he still didn't see what he wanted.

"What about the mortgage release agreement between the textile factory and the bank?"

"What?" Sharma began to shake his head habitually.

"My dear fellow, I'm not an amateur. I told you I'm a businessman. If you owe the bank a loan, you must have had something as collateral. I can't imagine anything other than that piece of land that would have made the bank lend money."

"Uh, the procedures for releasing the mortgage are in progress. It will be done soon, no problem."

"Then let's talk about our deal after the formalities are completed." Ron made a gesture to leave.

"Wait, wait, Mr. Sur!" Sharma, sweating profusely, stopped him. "I'm talking to the bank, but it'll take some time."

"How much loan do you owe the bank?" Ron simply got straight to the point.

“Less than 20 million.”

"That piece of land is not worth 20 million. How could the bank approve such a large amount for you?" Luo Enqi asked.

"There are other fixed assets in the textile factory, and the handling fees are also included in the extra part." Sharma gave him a look that showed everyone understood.

This was just like the last time he went to the bank to get a loan. The actual amount Sharma received was completely different from the loan amount. The so-called handling fee was actually a bribe to the bank officials.

As for other fixed assets, which were probably equipment and the like, the money from their sale had already gone into Sharma's own pocket.

"In that case, why don't you ask the bank staff to come up with a solution? They're the ones who hold the stamp and make the decision." Ron hinted to him.

"Oh! What do you mean?" Sharma vaguely grasped the key point.

"Looks like we need to have another chat." Ron's eyes flickered. He also wanted to complete the deal as soon as possible.

(End of this chapter)