"I've taken care of everything, so you two do not need to worry too much."
Quintus Metellus said, looking at his son and nephew.
"In any case, the Vigintisexviri election is all but controlled by our family."
"But Lucius Caesar is very popular among the Plebeians, Father."
His son frowned.
"If by some chance we were to lose in the Vigintisexviri..."
"It would be an unspeakable disgrace. There has never been a Metellus who lost the Vigintisexviri until now. Not once."
Quintus's nephew chimed in.
Both his son and nephew had recently announced their candidacy for the Vigintisexviri.
For the Metellus family, a prestigious political lineage, the Vigintisexviri was a position where victory was practically guaranteed.
It was nothing more than a stepping stone for young men on their way into the Senate.
But this year was different.
Lucius Julius Caesar had announced his participation.
The mysterious young man who created insurance and Palmolive, and proposed the lottery business to the Senate.
He even supported the veterans and was receiving massive support from the Roman citizens.
Normally, the Metellus family would have dismissed him, but they could not take Lucius's candidacy lightly this time.
"Regardless, there is no one in Rome right now who has more clientes than our family."
Quintus said, popping a grape into his mouth.
In the end, Roman politics came down to how many clients you could command.
The most powerful factor was a web of patronage and obligation.
Over a long period, the Metellus family had gradually expanded their web to spread across the whole city.
"Right now, that boy Lucius is probably trying to gather his own clientes too."
Quintus continued.
"But it won't be easy. A considerable number of veterans and merchants have aligned with us. If that bastard thinks he can win just by relying on his popularity among the Plebeians, he will learn how politics really works."
***
"You're really not going to mobilize your clientes?"
"That's right. I will not mobilize my clientes for my election."
I went down the line, shaking hands in the atrium.
Roman politics was truly exhausting.
In Rome, clientes visited their patrons every morning to pay their respects, and politicians boasted of their influence through the clientes gathered this way.
I had no idea how anyone did this every morning.
I couldn't exactly send away people who came to thank me.
Good grief.
"The victims of the Palmolive scam, the insurance subscribers, and on top of that, the veterans. Aren't they all supporting you, Young Master?"
Felix asked as he followed me.
Every time someone approached to express their gratitude, Felix whispered their name to me.
Normally, a household would keep a nomenclator for that, but Felix's memory was reliable enough.
"What's the problem with asking your supporters for their votes? You already received their help during the Trademark Law."
"Even then, the citizens organized those protests voluntarily. Not because I promised them money."
I recalled the time of the Trademark Law.
The victims who had been scammed by fake Palmolive came to the Forum and showed their support for the Trademark Law.
All I did was promise them legal support and give them a way to organize.
"Of course, if I ask, plenty of people will step forward. Especially the insurance subscribers; they'll think they might face retaliation if they refuse my request."
All that would earn me was resentment.
Facing the Metellus family's political machine head-on was reckless.
So I chose a different approach.
"Up to now, Roman politics had come down to one thing: how many clientes a man could command. It depended on how many favors you handed out and how many gifts you gave before the election."
"And you plan to win the election using a new method, Young Master."
Felix let out a sigh.
After the long morning greeting time ended, the clientes finally all returned to their homes and workplaces.
Felix and I flopped down into empty chairs as if collapsing.
"How exactly do you intend to do it?"
"I'm aiming for the Vigintisexviri—more specifically, the duoviri viis extra urbem purgandis, the officials responsible for the roads outside the city."
*Duoviri viis extra urbem purgandis*.
It was hard to even say it all at once without taking a breath.
"Then I just have to prove I'm the best person for the job."
"Prove it? How exactly?"
Felix sighed.
"If you want to do something to improve the street conditions, you'd have to be elected first, Young Master."
"In simple terms, yes."
I fell into thought.
Felix's words were correct.
I could promise to improve the lives of the Roman citizens, but to actually prove that ability, I would have to get elected first.
Or is there another way?
As I snapped my fingers, Felix, who had been dozing off, woke up with a start.
"W-What is it?"
"The important thing is being helpful to the Roman citizens, right?"
"Right."
Felix replied with a suspicious expression.
"Then let's ask the Roman citizens directly. To find out what their biggest complaints are."
I couldn't believe I'd overlooked something so simple.
"Are you saying you'll go door to door yourself, Young Master?"
"That wouldn't be bad either, but there's a better way."
Insurance, Palmolive, supporting the veterans.
I'd already built plenty of channels to reach people.
If so, I could just use one of them.
"Let's use our employees who visit the Roman citizens every month."
***
Insurance quickly became part of Roman life.
It was simple: they paid a small premium each month and received compensation if a fire occurred.
Anyone who owned a house began to sign up for insurance, and with Crassus's fire brigade in place, along with various preventive measures, fires decreased noticeably.
But to most Roman citizens, it felt like magic.
"Doesn't it feel like fires have decreased just by signing up for insurance?"
"Perhaps insurance has the blessings of the gods too. Just like Palmolive."
Meanwhile, Caesar's employees visited the building owners every month to collect insurance premiums.
But this time, something was different.
They began to ask questions, holding styluses and wooden tablets.
"What do you think is the biggest problem on the streets of Rome right now?"
"A problem? What do you mean?"
"We're trying to find out what troubles Roman citizens the most."
"Wait, why would insurance investigate something like that? Is it related to my insurance payout by any chance?"
"No, it is not. Young Caesar simply takes a great interest in such matters. Could you answer a few short questions?"
"Of course. It's not like talking costs me anything."
The citizens who received the questions were genuinely surprised.
They had lived in Rome their entire lives, but it was the first time someone had come to ask them such questions.
Going around to each citizen individually to investigate their inconveniences.
Why on earth was Caesar going through such a hassle?
"Come to think of it, isn't Caesar running in the Vigintisexviri election this time?"
"Then going house to house asking questions is related to that?"
"It certainly seems so."
"He really is an unusual man. It's not like it makes him any money."
A few days passed like that, and once again, piles of wooden tablets gathered in Felix's office.
The complaints were varied, but one came up again and again.
"My son didn't come home on time the other day. I went out at night looking for him, and..."
"Someone tried to steal my entire wagon, and I barely escaped. The people around me just walked by pretending not to see. These days, I'm more worried about my life than my cargo."
"For an old man like me, it feels like I'm going to die once the sun sets. I try to get home quickly somehow, but my legs just won't listen."
It was one of humanity's oldest fears: the dark.
***
"The biggest complaint is the threat of various crimes occurring at night. In a way, it's an obvious answer."
"You'd be surprised if you knew how much I suffered to find out that 'obvious' answer."
I laughed and read the report Felix brought.
As my various businesses sailed smoothly without issues, I bought a new insula in the Subura district.
This was my office, and also the headquarters that connected and managed all my businesses as one.
Just like my other businesses, dozens of employees were busy with paperwork.
"The dark..."
The Roman citizens' answer to my question was simple.
The threat of various crimes occurring at night.
In this Rome, night meant total darkness.
The streets were effectively lawless.
Wandering alone at night and getting robbed was a common occurrence, and women were especially vulnerable to crime.
"But it's not like you can just avoid the streets at night."
In Rome, you couldn't haul wagons during the day.
To keep the streets from clogging up, wagons were only permitted at night.
So wagons loaded with grain and goods had no choice but to travel at night.
Bandits had targeted them for decades, but neither the Senate nor the magistrates seemed to care much.
No, they probably didn't even consider it a problem because it was so natural.
Why fix what everyone had accepted for centuries?
"Then let's solve this for them. We'll eliminate the darkness from the streets of Rome."
"Don't tell me you're planning to offer a sacrifice to Apollo?"
Felix let out a hollow laugh.
"Even you couldn't bring the sun out at night, Young Master."
"That's true. But I don't need the sun for that."
I fell into thought.
Come to think of it, I'd seen something during Saturnalia not long ago.
Normally, the night streets of Rome were dangerous, but there were special days.
Festival days like Saturnalia.
During festivals, Romans placed torches outside their doors so people could still walk the streets at night.
Torches.
I rummaged through my desk and looked for a specific papyrus.
I knew I'd read it somewhere.
"Ah, here it is."
"What is that?"
"A report you wrote."
I handed the papyrus to Felix.
It contained a report related to Palmolive production.
There was one figure in it that stood out.
It was something I'd dismissed as unimportant at first.
"There was a massive amount of olive oil residue left over from Palmolive production. The filtering also produced low-grade oil."
They were hard to sell, so they were mostly disposed of.
But they weren't entirely useless either.
But if we found the right use for them, they could still be put to work.
"There's no better lamp fuel than olive oil."
"You don't mean..."
Felix muttered, his eyes widening.
"Are you saying we should set Rome on fire?"
"Not exactly. But we can flood the streets with light."
Actually, there was a more sophisticated way to put it.
Roman citizens afraid of the dark. Mountains of wasted olive oil from Palmolive. And my election.
If I brought all of them together, I might be able to make something interesting happen.
"Let's bring light to Rome."