“Then I will follow you, sir.”

  Vitruvius got into the carriage after me.

  Babu trailed after us and called out,

  “Should I go too?”

  “Someone needs to stay here, Babu.”

  I replied, leaning back on the cushion.

  “If anyone comes looking for a refund, handle them exactly as I did earlier.”

  A moment later, the carriage carrying Vitruvius and me passed through the Subura district and headed for the Forum.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  Vitruvius asked, looking at the scenery outside.

  “If I want to protect the mark I created, I’ll need a law.”

  I said, leaning back against the cushions.

  “To stop counterfeits at the source, I need to be granted exclusive rights to my trademark.”

  Vitruvius nodded.

  “If they are legally punished, the people making fake Palmolive will back off.”

  He clapped his hands as if he thought of something.

  “Then how about selling Palmolive directly yourself, sir? Then citizens won’t be deceived by other fraudulent products.”

  “You mean I should go out on the street and sell Palmolive myself?”

  “Of course, you could do that, but...”

  Hearing my reply, Vitruvius burst into laughter and said.

  “I mean you set up directly managed shops separately and sell Palmolive only there.”

  “Of course, we could do that later. But it would take too long right now.”

  I scratched my forehead and replied.

  Selling like that would certainly prevent Roman citizens from being deceived by fraudulent products.

  What I had in mind was a method of certifying shops that sell authentic Palmolive.

  But even that wouldn’t fundamentally block imitations.

  However, setting up company-owned shops would mean building everything—property, staff, and distribution—from scratch.

  It would take a huge amount of time.

  Considering that the insurance and Palmolive businesses had just gotten on track, we didn’t have the cash for it yet.

  After running the numbers in my head for a moment, I said.

  “Maybe after we accumulate some capital, but it seems a bit difficult right now. The cost involved is too high.”

  “Then it can’t be helped.”

  “But your suggestion is good enough. You’ve got a better head for business than I expected.”

  Vitruvius’s expression stiffened, and he said quickly.

  “Sir, I was hired by you strictly as an architect.”

  He waved his hands.

  “If you suddenly entrust me with business like Felix or Babu, I’ll run away immediately.”

  “Even if I pay you more?”

  “Even if you give me a fortune, I don’t want to work myself to death like Felix.”

  At his firm answer, I burst into laughter.

  “Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration? I’m not such an evil person who only makes people work to that extent.”

  “Ask Felix yourself.”

  While we were talking, the carriage we were riding arrived at our destination.

  The Senaculum—an open space in front of the Curia—was where senators waited until a quorum formed.

  People said real politics happened here. The voting procedures inside the Curia were actually just rubber-stamping decisions made out here.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Getting off the carriage, hundreds of men in white togas came into view.

  There were so many senators that it felt like looking at a tide of white togas.

  “The problem is finding an influential person here.”

  I muttered with a sigh.

  Among these countless senators, I had to find someone who had a connection with my father, Caesar, and at the same time possessed political influence.

  But that wasn’t an easy task.

  Senators were waving, hugging, and engaged in heated conversations with each other.

  Amidst the senators, mostly in their forties, I was just a boy much younger than them.

  Blending in wasn’t going to be easy.

  If I knew it would be like this, should I have brought a nomenclator?

  A nomenclator was a slave trained to whisper names and titles at his master’s shoulder.

  Just then, a man in a spotless white toga approached me.

  The man had a rather frail build, but his face looked strangely familiar.

  Approaching me, he shouted in a welcoming tone.

  “Look who it is? Isn’t it young Caesar?”

  “Sir Cicero.”

  I managed to dredge up his name. Rome’s greatest lawyer and orator.

  He had risen to the position of Consul solely with his eloquence.

  Later, when Caesar would form the First Triumvirate, Cicero would refuse to join it.

  So Caesar kept him in check and exiled him from Rome.

  After that, he succeeds in returning to Rome, but eventually met his end—assassinated on Antony’s orders.

  He smiled and offered a handshake.

  “What brings you to the Senaculum today?”

  “It is an honor to meet you like this, sir Cicero.”

  At my polite answer, he waved his hand and said.

  “The honor is mine. Who else is as famous a figure as you in Rome right now?”

  “You flatter me.”

  “Flatter? Aren’t you being too humble? Looking at you, I feel ashamed of what I did when I was young.”

  He burst into hearty laughter.

  “So, what brings you to the Senaculum?”

  “That is...”

  I briefly explained to him what had just happened in front of the insurance insula.

  Cicero did not belong to the Populares (Populist faction) like Crassus or Pompey, but was closer to the Optimates (Aristocratic faction), though in reality, he was practically a moderate.

  Cicero might listen to my request.

  “It certainly is a problematic matter.”

  Listening to my explanation until the end, Cicero stroked his chin with one hand.

  “If everything you just said is true, these so-called ‘fake Palmolives’ are harming not only your reputation but also the public interest of Roman society.”

  “That is correct, sir Cicero. And to prevent that, I have thought of a bill.”

  “A bill?”

  Cicero repeated, surprised.

  He looked surprised that a young boy like me had such a thought.

  I explained the necessity of a law protecting product trademarks to him.

  “Trademark law... that’s quite a novel method. That would certainly reduce fake products. Even if not in other regions, we could catch fakes in Rome.”

  He nodded as if agreeing.

  But in the next moment, he crossed his arms and continued.

  “But I’m not sure if other senators will be convinced of the necessity of that ‘trademark law’. Young Caesar.”

  “What do you mean by that, sir?”

  I met his gaze.

  Nothing is done without a price in politics.

  Since I made a request, it was now his turn to state his demands.

  “First of all, I fully agree with the necessity of this ‘trademark law’ you mentioned.”

  He continued with a rather cautious expression.

  “But there are quite a few people within the Senate right now who envy your success. And the Senate fears a lone eagle above all.”

  “Cicero, here you were!”

  Just then, a man in a black toga approached Cicero.

  The black toga the man wore stood out clearly among the white togas.

  It was like seeing a crow in the middle of a flock of doves.

  Looking at the man, Cicero shouted.

  “Ah, Cato. Good to see you.”

  Cato?

  At the appearance of an unexpected figure, I tilted my head for a moment.

  Just then, the man looked at me and asked.

  “Who is this young gentleman?”

  “Ah, I forgot to introduce him.”

  Cicero raised one arm and pointed at me.

  “Cato, this is Lucius Julius Caesar. The son of that Caesar who is currently carrying out public duties in Hispania.”

  The man’s gaze sharpened instantly.

  He looked me up and down.

  “Ah, so this is that famous swindler boy.”

  His voice was full of contempt.

  ***

  “Swindler?”

  My voice rose before I could stop it. It was the first time I’ve heard such criticism at a first meeting.

  I wasn’t the only one taken aback by Cato’s blatant remark.

  Cicero gave an awkward smile and hurriedly opened his mouth.

  “Swindler, Cato. You are being too...”

  “No, he is indeed a swindler who drove Roman citizens into gambling.”

  Cato cut him off.

  “If a man who filled his own pockets by luring Roman citizens with the gamble called insurance isn’t a thief, then what is he?”

  Before Cicero could reply, Cato continued speaking.

  “I remember what my great-grandfather said. A thief who steals one person’s property is imprisoned, but a thief who steals public property lives buried in wealth and pleasure. No example fit that saying better than the Caesars.”

  “....”

  So there was someone who blatantly hated me like this.

  Exchanging glances with Cato, I muttered inwardly.

  I seemed to understand to some extent the story about the eagle Cicero mentioned earlier.

  The Roman Senate fears a lone eagle more than anything else.

  The noisy Senaculum had fallen quiet before I realized it.

  Like children watching classmates fight, senators gathered around us.

  Marcus Porcius Cato.

  The great-grandson of Cato the Elder, the man who relentlessly called for Carthage’s destruction.

  Young Cato was famous for following a frugal and strict life according to Stoic philosophy all his life.

  But he is also well known as a figure who opposed Caesar.

  A person of upright character who refused to surrender until the very last moment and took his own life.

  Such a man was picking a fight with me right now.

  There would be no spectacle more exciting than this for other senators.

  Cato said as if driving a wedge.

  “Does your silence mean you admit my claim is correct? Or are you so flustered that words won’t even come out?”

  “I apologize, but neither is true, Honorable Senator Cato.”

  I replied calmly.

  Now the ball passed from Cato to me.

  I didn’t come to this Senaculum to argue with Cato.

  But I wasn't a fool as to just stand there and take a beating.

  If I ran now with my tail between my legs, I’d tarnish the honor of the Caesar family.

  I took a deep breath.

  It seemed my Senate debut would be a more spectacular event than expected.

  “I was taught that interrupting an elder is rude. If Senator Cato has finished speaking, then I’ll speak as well.”

  I looked at the senators gathered around.

  I hadn’t spent the last seventeen years in Rome just playing around.

  “Honorable Senator Cato.”

  My counterattack was starting now.

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  (Current Progress: 2/5)

  Seoul is bustling again—I can really feel the crowds coming back. ??

  I’m curious where you all are reading from. What city are you in, and how’s it there these days?

  Have a great day! ^_^b