I'm a Master in India

As the yellow and black taxi stopped beside the potholed road, the turbaned man appeared again.

“Mr. Sur, in your absence, the textile factory hasn't lost even a single plank of wood.”

“Has anyone caused trouble?” Ron asked.

“There are no Muslims here, no one is interested, except for the rats.”

This turbaned man is called Gulish. He originally worked as a gatekeeper for Sharma, but now he has switched allegiance to work for Ron.

He is a bachelor, without a family or children. Every day, besides drinking, he doesn't have to do anything. He just lies down in the factory area to sleep, while also guarding the gate.

Ron pays him a salary of 400 rupees per month. He doesn't expect Gulish to be too responsible, as long as the place isn't occupied by anyone.

“I need a few people to clean up the garbage here. Can you find some manpower?”

“Of course, leave it to me! In three days at most, this place will be cleaner than the Taj Mahal Hotel!” Gulish was very excited. He took on the job without hesitation, because that usually meant extra money.

“How much will it cost approximately?”

“Three thousand rupees.” He tentatively gestured with his fingers.

“I'll give you one thousand. I'll come back in five days.”

“No problem!” Gulish agreed without hesitation.

Ron frowned. It seemed he had given too much. However, cleaning hundreds of acres of land was not an easy task.

“Who is the local strongman here?” he asked.

“Ajay Lal.” Gulish smartly reported a name.

“Which gang does he belong to, and what are the rules?”

Although this land transaction had Hadh Khan's backing, no one with any sense would come looking for trouble, but the local officials are more important than those far away. Ron would be active here for a long time in the future, and he would inevitably have to deal with the local strongman.

Finding out the other party's situation in advance and then paying a visit would be good for everyone. That's how business is done in Mumbai. Businessmen have to deal with gangsters, otherwise you will have endless troubles.

“Ajay Lal is not a gangster. He is a policeman, a policeman from the crime department!”

“What?” Ron was taken aback. “Could he be a corrupt cop?”

“Ajay Lal is more troublesome than a corrupt cop. He is selfless and impartial. Gangsters and other policemen hate him, but he is still living well.” Gulish's expression was very strange. It was a kind of fear mixed with admiration, and also a hint of pride.

Ron and Anand exchanged glances. It was the first time they had heard of a selfless and impartial policeman in Mumbai. It seemed like a report from a science fiction news story.

“So there are no gangs here?”

“There are, but because of Ajay Lal, they don't dare to mess around. Those who dare to challenge him either disappear or are thrown into jail.” Gulish chuckled strangely, a strange laugh filled with delight.

“Perhaps I should pay him a visit?” Ron muttered.

“No need, they are already here.” Gulish looked at the road behind him.

Ron turned around, and a three-wheeled vehicle sputtered over, with five policemen squeezed on it.

The leader was a large man, looking like a boxer. His hair was cut very short, and his chin had a dimple, making him look more like he came from a special forces background.

Of course, what surprised Ron the most was that this policeman was unlike those he had seen, either pot-bellied or rude.

Ajay Lal's dressing was very tasteful, his demeanor was refined, and his speech was measured. If someone said he was a company boss or a movie actor, people would definitely believe it.

“Are you Ron Sur?”

“Yes.” Ron nodded.

Ajay Lal looked him up and down. This young man's demeanor was measured, and he was as handsome as a movie actor. However, he didn't have the smell of blood and fire on him, so he must not have committed any murders, and probably didn't have any deep involvement with the gangs.

“I am investigating Sharma's case. He owes the bank a large sum of money and has now absconded.”

Ron's heart skipped a beat. Could it be that Sharma's bribery of senior bank officials had been investigated?

“I only had one dealing with him regarding the land transaction. We are not familiar.”

“The procedures?” Ajay Lal had an official attitude.

Ron took out the documents from his bag. Fortunately, he had brought them with him today.

Ajay Lal casually flipped through them, made a few notes, and then returned the documents to him.

“If you have any news about him, please notify me at any time.”

“Officer, what crime did he commit?” Ron inquired cautiously.

“Malicious overdraft of credit cards, fraud. That bastard is wanted by many people now. He made a big score before he left.”

Okay, Ron guessed that the guy must have fled abroad, after all, he had exchanged so many US dollars.

“If you know his whereabouts, remember to contact me, there is a reward. Of course, if you have any trouble, you can also come to me.” Ajay Lal handed him a business card.

“Definitely!” Ron solemnly accepted the business card.

A local strongman, even if he is a policeman, it's never wrong to build a connection.

Fortunately, Sharma's matter did not involve the textile factory, otherwise he would be in trouble.

In fact, he had complete procedures and also had connections within the government. Even if the matter came to light, there would be no changes to this land in the end.

But who made Ajay Lal bear the name of "selfless and impartial"? Every businessman in Mumbai would be afraid of encountering such a person.

Disturbed by this uninvited guest, Ron lost the mood to wander around.

He first discussed with Anand and the others about repairing the damaged parts of the office building. The empty windows, the missing wooden doors, and the tattered desks all needed to be cleaned up.

There were carpenters and bricklayers in the slum, so this matter could be left to Anand and the others, but there was one thing that made Ron frown.

“I need some engineers.”

"Engineer?" Anand and Vinod repeated the word awkwardly.

"That's right. How can a factory not have engineers? Without them, there are no products."

"What products?" Anand asked with great interest, even though he knew nothing about factories.

Speaking of which, Ron also perked up. He thought about it for a long time and finally found a product suitable for India.

"Have you heard of air conditioners?"

"Wow! Air conditioners!" Anand and the others looked amazed. "Air conditioners that blow cold air, only found in movie theaters."

"That's right, do you guys like air conditioners?"

"Of course, that's something only people with status enjoy, it costs a lot of money!"

"So everyone loves air conditioners!" Ron smiled.

"India is hot, and Mumbai is even hotter. Ron, Mumbai people will like your air conditioners, but not the slums," Anand said regretfully, shaking his head.

"Huh?" Ron looked at him in confusion.

"Because the slums don't have electricity," Anand and Vinod laughed.

Ron was stunned for a moment, then laughed along. "But my factory won't be producing air conditioners."

"Huh?" The others looked at him strangely.

"There are only a few factories in all of India that can produce air conditioners. Wealthy families buy imported goods, how could I possibly manage that?"

Ron had recently researched the data, and the penetration rate of air conditioners throughout India was only about 3%. Out of a population of 900 million, only over 20 million people had used this appliance, a ridiculously low penetration rate.

A considerable portion of these were installed in government agencies, with even lower penetration among the general population. Given this market size, even if Ron had the ability, he might not be interested.

"What I want to make is a different kind of air conditioner, a water air conditioner!"

"Water air conditioner?" Anand and the others were even more confused. This word was even more tongue-twisting than 'engineer'.

"A simpler, cheaper, and more energy-efficient air conditioner than regular air conditioners, one that I think most people can afford."

This water air conditioner also has another name, called a 'desert cooler'. The principle is quite simple: water evaporation and air circulation.

Roughly a basin of cold water, equipped with a fan, can achieve the effect.

Actually, calling it an air cooler is more appropriate, but the name 'water air conditioner' sounds more high-end, and Indians like grandeur.

Ron wasn't planning to create this appliance all by himself, he didn't understand these things.

The simplest method, of course, is to set up an assembly plant.

Relying entirely on buying parts, he would only be responsible for assembling them into products.

This required the help of engineers, preferably those with basic knowledge of electricity and aerodynamics.

Ron had wandered through the streets of Mumbai, and there were only air conditioners or fans, no water air conditioners at all. However, there were quite a few that used ice blocks for direct cooling.

Regardless, it was worth a try. The market was a blank slate, with a high probability of success.

The best thing was that water air conditioners had low costs. Ron could count them on his fingers: an electric fan, a shell, a water storage base - that's it!

Maybe once the scale increased, the price would be even cheaper than an electric fan.

"I know an engineer, he understands machines," Adi, who was standing behind them, suddenly spoke.

"Really?" Ron looked over in surprise.

"I've done business with him a few times before, but that person just graduated and is still looking for a job." Being the center of attention, Adi shyly took a step back.

"A recent graduate is good," Ron was overjoyed. Pure and naive college students were the easiest to fool. Anyway, this job didn't require any rich work experience.

"Then shall I ask him to try?" Adi looked over expectantly.

"Ask! Ask him now!" Ron waved his hand and immediately prepared to go back.

With nothing else to do, it was better to work on the water air conditioner. It was quiet here, far from the hustle and bustle of South Mumbai, and unaffected by the riots.

However, it wasn't easy to create an electrical appliance factory out of thin air. Even cheap appliances with little technical content required solving various difficulties.

Personnel, technology, equipment, electricity, and most importantly, sales - everything was a tangled mess.

The only thing Ron didn't need to worry about was personnel. India had a large population, and Mumbai had even more.

Over thirteen million people, most of whom lacked stable jobs. Even though the number of factories in Mumbai was decreasing, the number of newcomers flocking in every year was increasing.

People without jobs could only live in slums, like Anand and the others used to.

If Ron's electrical appliance factory opened, the first workers he would recruit would, of course, be from the Taj Ali slum.

The relationship between them was self-explanatory, they knew each other inside and out. With stable jobs, of course, they would think of their own people.

As for technology, that depended on whether the person Adi introduced was reliable. If not, Ron would have to place an advertisement in the newspaper or ask Kavya.

The factory's equipment depended on the technical assessment, and sales were not something to consider now.

After roughly going over the plan in his head, Ron began to prepare.

He wanted to say hello to Harry at customs first, to ask if he had any import channels. If he needed to purchase equipment from overseas in the future, or import materials, he would inevitably need to use them.

However, before he could make the call, Adi called first.

"Ron Baba, I've made an appointment with Ashish, he's very interested in the job you mentioned."

"Meet tomorrow, I can't wait."

With a snap, the phone hung up, and Ron sighed contentedly.

Why bother with riots when doing business is so much better?