Rome was shrouded in the deepening twilight.

  A man clad in a toga hurried along the dark streets with several slaves accompanying him.

  The streets of Rome at night were dangerous. Although carrying swords was prohibited in Rome, not all laws were strictly observed.

  Passing insulas cautiously, the man and his slaves finally stopped in front of a mansion.

  “We have arrived, Master.”

  “You wait in the courtyard.”

  Guided by the mansion’s slave, the man went inside.

  Dozens of men wearing white togas like him had already arrived in the atrium of the mansion.

  One of them shouted, welcoming the man.

  “Opimius! Since you’ve arrived, we can start the meeting now.”

  “Sorry I’m late, Cato. The streets have been dangerous lately.”

  “When were they ever not?”

  Cato replied with a smile.

  He was the one who had organized today’s meeting.

  Once everyone had arrived, he clapped his hands to focus everyone’s attention.

  “All of you must have heard the rumors about Lucius Caesar and the trademark law.”

  At Cato’s words, his fellow senators nodded.

  The oratory fight between Cato and Lucius Caesar a few days ago had quickly spread as a rumor.

  And most senators agreed that young Caesar had taken Cato down a peg.

  Of course, senators close to Cato hushed up about that day’s events.

  “It seems Lucius Caesar now intends to propose the trademark law through a Tribune.”

  At Cato’s words, his fellow senators began to murmur.

  “Meaning he intends to skip the Senate and go straight to the Popular Assembly vote.”

  “There’s no legal fault to find. Since laws can be passed in the Popular Assembly without the Senate’s permission.”

  “Those filthy plebeians will cause a ruckus in the Forum again.”

  As Cato raised one hand, all of them fell silent.

  A short silence followed, and a stout senator asked Cato.

  “Which Tribune on earth supports that kid’s law?”

  “It’s Tribune Aquilius.”

  “Aquilius?”

  Cato nodded.

  “One of the ardent followers who led legions under Pompey.”

  Pompey.

  At that name, the atrium fell silent in an instant.

  The man who defeated the pirates and brought eastern kingdoms to their knees under Rome.

  No one in Rome right now could rival his military achievements.

  “For what reason on earth is Pompey helping Lucius Caesar? Wasn’t it Crassus who was sponsoring Caesars?”

  “According to what I found out, it seems he intends to give the authority to examine trademark applications to the Tribunes.”

  “He intends to increase the Tribunes’ authority then.”

  A senator muttered quietly.

  “If such a trademark law passes, all merchants will grovel before the Tribunes. Isn’t that giving too much power to the Tribunes?”

  “Crassus and Pompey already empowered the Tribunes during their consulship. This matter is likely an extension of that.”

  “Increasing the Tribunes’ authority again. That is absolutely unacceptable!”

  “This is the result of us dragging out Pompey’s request for too long.”

  A senator sighed.

  Returning from his conquests years ago, Pompey had submitted a request to the Senate to distribute land to his soldiers.

  However, the Senate, jealous of his successive successes, was refusing the request citing this and that reason.

  “If Pompey intervened, the story changes a bit. We must block the enactment of this law no matter what.”

  “If Pompey succeeds in this matter, won’t he try to pass his own bill riding the momentum?”

  All the senators nodded in agreement.

  Pompey was a huge bear who could threaten the Republic.

  “But what reason can we use to block the enactment of that bill?”

  A senator spoke cautiously.

  “There is no proper reason to oppose young Caesar’s bill. Isn’t it true that fake Palmolive is rampant in Rome these days? Since the trademark law is to prevent such fraudulent products, we can’t just oppose it without proper reason.”

  “Do you think young Caesar proposed the trademark law simply for that reason?”

  Cato spread his arms.

  “Then are you saying there is another hidden reason?”

  “The Palmolive he made is more popular than ever in Rome. He is clearly trying to preemptively block other competitors from emerging through the trademark law.”

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  “That makes sense.”

  “If the trademark law is enacted, the only person selling Palmolive in Rome will be Lucius Caesar.”

  Looking at his fellow senators, Cato continued.

  “He is trying to oppress other merchants and artisans using the trademark law. Wouldn’t this be sufficient reason to stop it?”

  “Indeed...”

  “Three out of ten Tribunes are on our side.”

  Cato said confidently.

  “If even one of them opposes, the trademark law can never pass.”

  “Even Pompey cannot persuade all the Tribunes, so we can easily block it.”

  All the senators breathed a sigh of relief.

  However, Cato shook his head.

  “We must not let our guard down. They won’t be unaware of that. They are surely plotting something.”

  The fact that he had been humiliated by Lucius wasn’t very important.

  The most important thing for him was to protect the order and tradition of the Republic.

  It was his duty to keep any one man from becoming too popular—and dragging the Republic down with him.

  “All of you bring your supporters to next week’s Popular Assembly. I will also speak to our Tribunes in advance.”

  “Understood, Cato. Not only for the Senate’s interest but also for the public interest of Rome, we must block this law.”

  Cato looked at the night sky.

  Lucius Julius Caesar.

  In his eyes laid an ambition greater than his father’s.

  And as always, ambition was the most fearful enemy threatening the Republic.

  ***

  “Damn swindlers!”

  “Forget about it now, Cerinthus.”

  “How can I just forget something I bought for 8 sestertii?”

  Cerinthus sighed deeply and looked at his wife.

  It was a few days ago that he, a bathhouse owner, was scammed.

  As Palmolive grew popular with ordinary Romans, bathhouse owners like him scrambled to get their hands on it however they could.

  To get Palmolive ahead of his competitors, Cerinthus paid a hefty sum for it.

  But before long, he realized that most of it was fake.

  The swindler who sold the fakes had already disappeared from the market.

  There was no one to compensate him for buying without checking the goods properly.

  Didn’t they say even Jupiter, king of the gods, despises fools?

  At this point, his only option was to go straight to Caesar’s mansion and negotiate a supply contract for Palmolive.

  Cerinthus left his house and hurried to Caesar’s mansion.

  Just as he almost arrived, a stand caught his eye.

  Dozens of people were lined up in front of the stand, all signing something.

  “Wait, aren’t you Cerinthus?”

  A man approached.

  He was a friend of Cerinthus’s—another bathhouse owner in the same neighborhood.

  “Why is everyone gathered here?”

  Cerinthus’s eyes went to the signboard, where large letters were painted across the top.

  [Association of Fake Palmolive Victims]

  He frowned, puzzled.

  He wasn’t sure what an “association” even meant.

  “People who’d been cheated by fake Palmolive gathered to write a petition.”

  His friend shrugged.

  “I was scammed a while ago too. We’re asking for a bill to pass for preventing and arresting the swindlers.”

  “That’s a good thing. I was scammed yesterday too.”

  “Swindlers need to be punished for us bathhouse owners to survive, don’t you think?”

  As Cerinthus stood hesitantly, a woman behind the stand approached him.

  “Did you perhaps got cheated by fake Palmolive sellers?”

  “I did.”

  “Please share the description or information about the swindlers who sold the fake Palmolive. And you can write your name on the wooden tablet here.”

  “You want my signature? For what?”

  “It’s an appeal that swindlers selling fake Palmolive must be eradicated. All of these will be submitted to the Tribunes and the Senate later.”

  “Then what exactly do you do?”

  “As I mentioned earlier, we demand the enactment of necessary laws from the Senate and Tribunes, and share information to catch swindlers in the market.”

  “Just hearing it makes me feel refreshed.”

  Cerinthus replied, thumping his chest.

  “Also, if you file a lawsuit against the swindler, we cover the legal fees.”

  “Covering legal fees? You must be joking.”

  Hiring a lawyer in Rome was by no means an easy task.

  There were quite a few who poured their family’s entire fortune to hire an excellent lawyer.

  It was basically unimaginable for commoners to fully support such legal costs.

  From Cerinthus’s perspective, it was an unbelievable offer.

  “Then is this organization also run by Lucius Caesar?”

  “Yes, he supports most of the funds necessary for our activities.”

  The woman said, pointing to Caesar’s mansion behind the stand.

  “People who joined our association are all ordinary Roman citizens like you and me.”

  “He is a truly benevolent person.”

  Cerinthus muttered.

  Lucius Caesar was the son of a prominent senator and a governor of Hispania.

  To think he would spend his own money to support commoners even though it wasn’t his responsibility.

  No Tribune or senator had ever bestowed such money and effort for the citizens.

  “Then would you like to sign here first?”

  Cerinthus engraved his name on the wooden tablet.

  “Can I join this association too then?”

  “Of course. Anyone who has suffered fraud can join our organization.”

  “Then do I need to pay money or anything?”

  “Of course not. But we hold regular meetings every week, and you can attend whenever you want.”

  “Then I will join too.”

  Cerinthus replied firmly.

  He felt the tight knot in his chest finally loosen.

  Thinking he could catch the swindler who sold fake Palmolive, he clenched his fist tight.

  “Just let that bastard get caught.”

  It was then the front door of the mansion opened, and murmurs spread like waves.

  “He came out! It’s the Young Caesar!”

  Cheers erupted among the people. Cerinthus stood on tiptoe to look over the crowd.

  A boy in a white toga, Lucius Caesar, opened the main gate and came out.

  Instead of waving hands to visitors, he approached an old man in shabby clothes standing at the very front.

  “Sir, you don't have to worry anymore. The laws of Rome are not just for the nobles.”

  The boy’s voice wasn’t loud, but strangely, it had the power to overwhelm the audience.

  The moment he clasped the old man’s rough hands with both of his, Cerinthus felt a corner of his heart heat up.

  That person was somehow different from the senators he had seen so far who walked around with their noses in the air.

  Cerinthus took the stylus the woman handed him and wrote his name on the tablet.

  That wasn’t a simple signature.

  Cerinthus sensed that this signature would change his life for the better.

  ***

  Finding true supporters in Rome was next to impossible.

  No matter how prestigious your family is, elections were decided by money and political connections.

  Citizens preferred politicians who held lavish festivals and events.

  Similarly, if one conquered barbarians and brought treasures to Rome, they could be recognized as a true general.

  Throwing money at elections wasn’t shameful; rather, it was a natural custom.

  Roman citizens shifted their support from one politician to another depending on the circumstances.

  But I knew the 21st-century way to build true supporters.

  “My family's name was threatened by this fraud incident. But this can actually be an opportunity.”

  I looked at the people gathered in front of my house.

  Even at this moment, hundreds of people were signing the petition and their names.

  “An opportunity?”

  Felix asked, handing me a wine goblet.

  “Weren’t you trying to organize protesters to pass this bill? Since bathhouse and laundry owners desperately need Palmolive anyway.”

  “This isn’t just for now. We’re building an organization that will last.”

  I looked at the report Felix brought.

  Hundreds of citizens had already joined the Association.

  My plan was simple.

  Instead of simply agitating victims, what if we form a group and support them consistently?

  Support victims so they can receive compensation, and provide a network where they can help each other when facing difficulties.

  Although it was a common form in the 21st century, none of the Roman politicians right now had ever created such an organization.

  They only threw money every election but didn’t provide a proper community.

  This fake Palmolive incident was a big blow to me, but at the same time, it was also a big opportunity.

  “You must remember what kind of end the Gracchus brothers met, Young Master.”

  Felix sighed.

  “Organizing a private group to oppose the Senate will never give a good impression.”

  “I’m not opposing the Senate. Rather the opposite.”

  My goal right now was simple.

  It was to protect the Caesar family while my father is in Hispania.

  For that, I had to act.

  “I am completely changing Roman politics.”

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  It's always interesting to see how Roman politics was similar yet so different from modern democracy.

  In Korea, government used to make barricade to stop the protestors hahahaha They were called fortress during 2008~2010 era.

  Thanks for reading my story! Have a nice weekend everyon.