Chapter 239: Changes
"Muna, what suggestions do you have?" Ron slowed down his tone.
"Master, the farmers who are causing trouble must have received money, but there are not many of them." Muna explained carefully.
"Well, go on." Ron nodded.
"Most of the villagers whose land was expropriated are here with us, on construction sites and in mines. They are our people."
"you mean"
"Master, you give them jobs, pay them salaries, and don't take any share of their money. Everyone is grateful to you.
Those lazy guys, who turned against you for a little tip, were called heartless and ungrateful by everyone, and they were all traitors.
"If it were you, what would you do?" Ron said with a smile in his eyes.
"Let the whole of Mirzapur know of your kindness. I will organize a procession to sing your virtues and give the grateful villagers a chance to repay your kindness."
"This guy looks like an elector now," Ratan said.
Ron laughed. It was hilarious.
"Muna, you've improved a lot."
“These are all stories from books. Mahatma Gandhi organized many marches when he was young.”
"That young adult book?"
"yes."
"What else have you watched in the past few months?"
"History, and social encyclopedia."
“If I have time, I’ll take a look at Indian politics and elections.”
"Yes, Master."
"I'll leave this matter to you."
"Yeah?" Muna suddenly raised his head.
"Just do as you say. There won't be two voices in Mirzapur. I'll assign you some personnel."
"Yes! Master!" Muna's clenched fists trembled slightly.
This was a feeling he had never experienced before, and his heart was beating wildly.
"Okay, let's go to the factory first." Ron stood up.
The newspaper matter is not urgent, he cares more about his cement factory.
Those small hills that originally belonged to the crows' territory have now completely changed.
The bumpy and gravelly slopes disappeared, and they were repaired into solid platforms, extending from the foot of the mountain to the outside of the mountain.
Amidst the roar, the yellow heavy truck sped past, raising a trail of dust, and the ore piled high in the loaded cargo box.
The unloaded ore is automatically transported away by the conveyor belt, and at the end the giant jaw crusher opens its iron teeth and swallows it in big gulps.
Whenever its mouth is full, it bites hard and tears the boulder into fist-sized pieces.
The roughly processed gravel is then transported by trucks via a newly paved asphalt road directly to the cement factory outside.
The towering calciner rises from the ground, and standing on it is enough to overlook the lush woods in the distance.
A large industrial area stretches out at its foot, including a feeding tower, rotary kiln, dust collection workshop, warehouse, and transportation pipelines.
At the top of the feeding tower, there is a high observation deck surrounded by steel, and the elevator leading to it is slow and shaky.
Wearing a hard hat, Ron looked down from a height with pride at the huge project that was about to be completed.
"When is the first phase of the production line expected to be completed?" he asked.
"It will take at most two months for most of the equipment to start debugging," replied Gao Er, the general manager.
"Are there any difficulties?"
"The electricity, the external power supply is unstable, and our own generators can't meet the needs of all the equipment."
"I remember when it was originally designed, a power station was reserved here?"
"Yes, right there." Gore pointed into the distance.
It was a red and white chimney. The main structure had been completed, but it was quiet and motionless at the moment.
"What does it take to get it moving?"
"A 5MW generator set."
"Increase the budget?" Ron frowned.
“For just $1 million, or Rs 30 million, it can meet all the needs of the cement plant and ore processing plant. In the long run, this will save us 70% on electricity costs.”
"What else do you need besides the generator?" Ron was a little tempted.
"Coal!" Goyle's eyes sparkled.
"I'll take care of the coal." Ron waved his hand nonchalantly. This thing was the least valuable.
There is a coal mine in Sonbhadra in the south, which is less than two hours' drive away.
Yes, he is very satisfied with the progress of the project here.
In less than a year, the original farmland was transformed into an industrial center of a certain scale.
Of course, this is only the first phase of the project, purely to speed up the production line operation.
It will take at least two years to complete the construction of the 100 acres of industrial land, which will probably be the end of next year.
“I will try to stay in Uttar Pradesh for two more months until the cement plant starts trial production.”
"It will definitely go smoothly. This is just the first step." Gore is full of confidence.
The current annual design output of the cement plant is 100,000 tons, which can only be considered small or medium-sized and is not difficult.
Gore has done similar projects, and his ideal goal is 500,000 tons, which can match the mine's reserves.
But that's something for later, take your time, the first step is the most important.
Ron was very fond of the view from the high tower, from where he could overlook the entire construction site.
Busy workers moved like ants under my feet, the newly built asphalt road was black and shiny, and two neat rows of plywood houses were lined up next to the factory.
Because the workers live in a residential area that is close to the water and has the best view of the moon, the floor is paved with cement.
The small workshop left behind by the two beasts has been put to use.
The quality of the cement produced is average, so it is simply used to meet the internal construction needs of the factory first.
Unfortunately, cement roads are too rigid and not suitable for bumpy slopes, and can be easily crushed by heavy trucks.
After the cement plant goes into production, Ron plans to build a wide cement road from the plant directly to Varanasi.
In this way, a steady supply of cement can be quickly delivered to Varanasi Railway Station and then transported to various parts of Uttar Pradesh.
If you want to be rich, build roads first. This is a true saying.
After inspecting the construction site, Ron was finally ready to leave for Lucknow.
The quickest way to resolve the recent turmoil is to start directly from the top.
As for the media reports, you can just ignore them. Uttar Pradesh is just that wild.
But Ron was very concerned about his reputation, so he decided to take a two-pronged approach.
Muna is responsible for reversing the direction of public opinion from the bottom up and resolving the conflicts of interest behind it.
…
Mirzapur, Tripathi family.
"Did you do this?" Karin threw the newspaper on the table.
"Dad, I didn't shoot this time, let alone move a bullet. If you don't believe me, ask Mark."
The tall man Markbu standing next to them nodded slightly. All the guns in the Tripathi family were under his control and he had the key to the armory.
"Didn't I tell you not to mess with them now?" Karin stared at him.
"Their factory will be open soon, in no more than two months. Dad, you said we should wait until they have everything ready before we make a move."
"Where did you hear this news?" Karin narrowed his eyes slightly.
"There is a student from our school working there, and I found him." Ram smiled proudly.
In Mirzapur, "Kalimbai" means an order, and no one dares to refuse the Tripathi family.
Through the student's relationship, Ram has already got a general idea of the progress of the cement plant.
He couldn't hold back and was ready to cause some trouble for the other party and prove himself to his father at the same time.
The king of Mirzapur cannot always be “Kalimbai”, he can also be “Rambai”, the small town must belong to him in the end.
"The people of Varanasi are not that easy to mess with. You will only alert them."
"Dad, you were the one who said I was idle all day long. Now I just want to do something for the family." Ram was dissatisfied.
"I'm not saying you did something wrong, but you were too gentle."
"What?" Ram was stunned.
"Why not just have someone shoot from behind? In that case, the enemy will definitely fire back.
Just kill a few more farmers, and preferably kill the reporters as well, so that the matter can be made bigger.
This kind of trivial report will only cause trouble to the other party but will not cause any serious harm.
Have you become stupid from studying? When did the Tripathi family become so restrained in their actions?
"Then... I'll bring someone there in two days."
"Idiot, it's too late. The people of Varanasi have already been prepared." Karin cursed in frustration.
This son is good at being domineering and a bit clever, but his vision is too narrow, he is not mature enough, and he is not ruthless enough.
"What about the Daily News?" Carlin asked again.
The tabloids in Mirzapur are understandable, but the Daily News is in Lucknow and the Tripathi family can’t stretch that far.
"I asked Rao's daughter for help." Ram hesitated.
"Senator Rao? Why should his daughter listen to you?" Karin was stunned, then looked at him strangely.
"I promised to go to the movies with her."
"that's all?"
"That's it." Ram shrugged.
The atmosphere in the living room became increasingly weird. The old man, who rarely asked about family affairs, was sitting in a wheelchair with a smile on his face.
Stepmother Bina also looked at Ram, her eyes were gentle and seemed to be dripping with tears.
"Don't make things difficult for Councillor Rao. He only has one daughter," Karin warned him.
"It's just a movie. She wanted to help me."
"Don't interfere in this matter anymore. The family will handle it."
"dad…"
Ram was about to speak when Gupta from the police station came to visit.
Karin waved his hand, motioning the other party to come forward.
"Kalimbai, there's some noise outside." Gupta put his hands together and smiled flatteringly.
"What's going on?"
“There are people marching.”
"Um?"
“People from Varanasi, right outside.”
Karin remained silent. Just as the people in the living room exchanged glances, he suddenly stood up and walked outside.
The Tripathi family's estate occupies the best location in Mirzapur town.
It was a high ground, overlooking the town's central square.
The plaster statues of Kalyan and Grandpa Ram are placed there, which are the symbols of the Tripathi family's rule over Mirzapur.
At this moment, a huge crowd gathered in the square, waving flags and shouting slogans.
"The great Mr. Soul gives us jobs!", "Highways, running water, praise Mr. Soul!"...
The leading young man wore a yellow scarf on his head and stood on the truck with his fist raised and shouted like a fighter.
There was a portrait behind him, a portrait of Ron Soul, and everyone could see that gentle smile.
There were also people distributing leaflets in the mobile convoy. The content was very short, just one sentence.
300 rupees a month, this is a gift from the great Mr. Sur!
There are so many illiterate people in Uttar Pradesh that you have to write "300 rupees" in big letters. This is more effective than anything else.
The crowd in the square began to stir. 300 rupees? That was too much!
There was almost no need for slogans to encourage them; people joined the procession voluntarily. They couldn't wait and wanted to go to the cement factory in the north right away.
Karin watched as the crowd followed the parade away, and the town square became visibly deserted.
The two plaster statues were ignored.
(End of this chapter)
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