I'm a Master in India

The train station was in similar chaos, the sound of the recent explosion having sent everyone scattering in fear.

India has never been a safe country; kidnappings, gang shootouts, armed attacks... various forms of violence happen all around.

So, the first reaction of the people upon hearing an explosion is not surprise or curiosity, but to find a place to hide.

Pushing through the chaotic, fleeing crowd, Ron headed straight for the Mumbai Information Company's reception area. The advertising board placed at the entrance had been knocked to the ground, and the few remaining employees were looking around, lost and bewildered.

Unexpectedly, Niya was not screaming in terror. Although pale, she was trying her best to comfort the two frightened female employees.

"Niya!" Ron ran over and grabbed her, then hurriedly urged, "Quick! Everyone get out of here!"

"Baba, we haven't finished packing up," Niya said, looking at the front desk, where documents, contracts, and accounts were piled up.

"Forget about these things, someone is detonating bombs outside, the train station is not safe!"

Hearing Ron's shout, the faces of the employees turned pale. Without further prompting, they all rushed out.

It hadn't been long since the riots, and they had already heard that the Muslims were going to carry out a bloody revenge. At this time, they didn't need to guess who was behind it.

Ron pulled down the shutter door of the store and dragged Niya out as quickly as possible.

Fragmented news came from the surrounding running crowd. Some said Persia had attacked, some said the 'Baba sheep' had launched an attack, and of course, the Muslims were also one of the biggest suspects.

By the time Ron ran out of the train station, the streets outside were filled with people running and screaming.

Rolling thick smoke rose from various parts of Mumbai. Ron roughly counted at least ten columns of smoke rising into the sky in South Mumbai.

Damn it, his tourism business was finished. For the next half year, no, even a year, it might not be able to restore its former glory.

And his electrical appliance factory, the products had just been finalized, and the promotional photos had just been taken...

How many days of peace had there been? Now this happened again.

Ron wanted to curse, but escaping was the priority. He grabbed Niya's hand and ran quickly towards the apartment.

He hadn't walked a few steps when he ran into a large group of police officers. They looked flustered, shouting and stopping rickshaw drivers, asking them to go to the vicinity of the Mangaldas Textile Market.

That was where the explosion had occurred. No one dared to go at this time; everyone was trying to avoid it.

The rickshaw driver who was stopped frantically shook his head and stood up to pedal the rickshaw, trying to escape.

But the tall policeman at the head grabbed the back of the rickshaw, preventing the driver from moving.

"You have to help, there are many injured people there... they need to be taken to the hospital immediately."

Huh, that voice sounded a bit familiar. Ron glanced over. Was it him? That selfless Indian policeman, Ajay Lal.

They had met before. During the time Ron was holed up in the electrical appliance factory, the officer had patrolled his area a few times.

Even just a few hours ago, they had exchanged glances. He didn't know why, but he had also come to South Mumbai.

Ajay was very vigilant. When Ron looked at him, he also noticed the former's gaze.

"Is that you?" Ajay's eyes showed some surprise when he looked at Ron, then some suspicion. Shouldn't he be at the factory in the suburbs? What was he doing in South Mumbai?

At this time, any suspicious object was worth being vigilant about.

"Mr. Sur, right? I remember you were near Madanpura just now. What are you doing here now?" he asked.

"Officer, I live here," Ron had to stop and explain.

"Fort area?" Ajay looked at the train station behind Ron, his gaze becoming even more suspicious.

If he remembered correctly, Ron seemed to have been seen near an apartment in the Juhu area, and there were two foreign girls there.

And now? The fort area, a petite and lovely Indian girl. Could this guy have four wives like the Muslims?

According to the information he had obtained, those saboteurs were very good at disguise, and they specifically targeted crowded places. The prominent columns of smoke in South Mumbai were proof of that.

Seeing the increasingly suspicious look in the other's eyes, Ron secretly thought it was bad and quickly explained.

"Officer, I've always lived here. I even saved a Muslim child just now."

He wasn't familiar with this policeman, and his reputation for selflessness was even more difficult to deal with. Ron didn't want to get entangled with him; the Mumbai Police Department was not a good place.

But Ajay Lal didn't intend to let it go. He knew that saboteurs were best at disguise.

"Officer, I can prove that this doctor is a good person," suddenly, the rickshaw driver chimed in.

"You know him?" Ajay asked.

"Mr. Sur, everyone near the train station knows him. He's also a skilled doctor who has saved several people's lives."

"You're also a doctor?" Ajay's eyes lit up.

"Uh, I don't have a medical license, I'm only good at treating external injuries."

"That's great, that's exactly what we need. Let's go, go south, there are many people in critical condition there," Ajay ordered in an uncompromising tone.

Ron was a little dumbfounded. Was he being conscripted? Why was this policeman so unreasonable? He even wanted to take out money to bribe him, but his intuition told him that it would be ineffective against Ajay.

"Niya, you go home first. Don't open the door unless I come back," Ron decided to send Niya away first.

She wouldn't be of any help here, and she might even be in danger. Their apartment was only a few hundred meters away, where Niya would be safer.

Little Niya was very reluctant, but under Ron's gaze, she quickly ran home.

"Officer, we can set off now," Ron sighed and nodded to the rickshaw driver.

No matter what, he had helped Ron out of a difficult situation. In fact, Ron didn't know him, but he looked somewhat familiar.

Perhaps the other party had received his business's patronage, or perhaps he was a patient from one of his past free clinics. In short, it was a good thing that the police weren't focusing on him.

The police in Mumbai not only enjoy taking bribes but also like to abuse prisoners. Although Ron wasn't about to be arrested, once they latched onto him, it wouldn't be easy to shake them off.

Unexpectedly, Aijaz Lal wasn't some harsh official. On the way to Mangaldas Market, he was very polite to Ron, completely changing his earlier aggressive attitude.

He explained that as a police inspector, he had to investigate every suspicious detail thoroughly in the immediate aftermath of the bombing.

At the same time, Ron realized from his words that the police had received wind of the bombing two hours beforehand.

Aijaz had been hurriedly transferred over at that time, but he didn't expect the perpetrators to act so quickly, giving the police no time to react.

In fact, Ron had no hope for the Indian police. What good would giving them time do? Back in the millennium, more than a dozen hitmen had left the entire Indian police force helpless.

While others were spraying bullets with AKs, the Mumbai police were still using bolt-action rifles. It was outrageous!

Ron certainly didn't want to go to the bombing site, but looking at the large group of police officers around him, he couldn't help but mutter, "With so many people, I shouldn't be facing a Zerg rush, right?"

The group had just arrived at Mangaldas Market when they were stunned by the hellish scene before them. The entire market, apart from the flames and black smoke, was covered in a layer of damp pink.

Yes, pink.

The textiles displayed on the roadside, the doors and windows along the streets, the slippery ground, and even the severed limbs were all pink.

Ron never knew that blood, when first exposed to air, wasn't blood-red or the dark brown of congealed blood, but a vibrant pink.

Ugh! The rickshaw driver and several police officers immediately bent over and threw up.

Ron's expression wasn't good either. No one could remain indifferent to this scene. Aijaz roared, directing his men to rescue people, and even passersby who hadn't had time to run away were ordered back to help.

If anyone dared to disobey his orders, they would either receive a resounding slap or be beaten with spiked batons.

The injured were placed on the roadside, and Ron did his best to give them simple bandages. But there were too many casualties, and soon the roadside was densely packed with people.

Some were screaming, some were crying, and some were groaning and struggling for a while before slowly falling silent.

Ironically, most of the injured people Ron was treating were Muslims.

This market was famous for Persian carpets, and almost every Muslim family kept one in their home.

If the rumors were true, no one knew who those Muslim elements shouting revenge slogans were actually bringing fear to.

The sounds of police cars and ambulances blared everywhere, but the chaotic streets blocked their progress.

Ron busied himself here for a long time but didn't see any official emergency rescue organizations. Even the Mumbai reporters arrived faster than them.

"Dr. Sur! Come and help!" Aijaz and several police officers carried a figure and hurried over.

Ron quickly checked the injuries. The injured man was spitting blood from the corner of his mouth, and the clothes on his chest were stained red with blood, sticking to his skin.

"He's our informant. We must save him!" Aijaz's eyes were red with grief. This informant was his friend.

Ron pulled open the injured man's clothes and leaned down to listen to his chest. "Lung injury. Can't be treated here. Must go to the hospital."

Without saying a word, Aijaz carried the man onto a rickshaw and then told the driver to go to the nearest hospital. Ron went along, as required by those police officers.

As they left the market corner, Ron seemed to see Kavya's figure out of the corner of his eye. He quickly said a few words to Aijaz, who nodded and waved, and a police officer jumped out of the car and ran back to the market.

This girl was too reckless for a big story, daring to run directly to the bombing site. Ron couldn't get away right now and could only have Aijaz arrange for a police officer to go back and look after her.

Arriving at Cooper Hospital, the scene here was no better than the market, with corpses everywhere. Not thirty or fifty bodies, but hundreds.

The tragic ending of the riots two months ago seemed to be playing out again. Ron suddenly had a sense of powerlessness, a feeling of "I'm tired, let's just destroy it all."

The Indians not only know how to stir things up but also know how to stir up big things, the kind that involves dead people.

After handing the injured informant over to the doctors here, Ron simply sat down on the hospital steps to rest.

The wails of patients all around could no longer disturb his mind. He was used to it.

After a while, Aijaz came out from inside, wiping away tears.

"How is he?" Ron asked.

Aijaz shook his head and sat down beside him, dejected.

Ron sighed. He actually knew that the man was beyond saving. At the market, the man's breathing was already very weak, only exhaling and not inhaling.

Of course, he wasn't a doctor and couldn't deliver a death notification to the patient, and he was also afraid that the unfamiliar police officers would take their anger out on him.

"Those damn Muslims rode motorcycles and hid the explosives under their robes, then rushed into the crowd without regard for anything."

"Motorcycles?"

"Yes, Bullet model motorcycles, the most popular model in Mumbai."

Ron slowly frowned, then his expression became more and more serious.

"What's wrong?" Aijaz keenly caught the change in his expression.

"On the way to the train station, I almost ran into a motorcycle. Bullet model, driven by a Muslim, looking hurried and nervous."

Whoosh, Aijaz stood up. "Was there a bombing at the train station?"

"No, that motorcycle is still leaning against the wall." Ron also realized something.

"Lead the way!" Aijaz rushed out of the hospital without saying anything else.