"I don't understand why Lucius Caesar keeps doing such strange things."
Brutus said, grasping his toga with his left hand.
He was passing through the Forum with his uncle.
Around them, citizens engaged in heated conversations.
"I heard from a relative who's a merchant that the Appian Way was brightly lit with lanterns last night."
"An insurance collector came by recently asking all sorts of questions; could it be related to that?"
"It must have cost a fortune to install lanterns along an entire street."
"Exactly. It's not even going to make any money."
Listening to the people's chatter, Brutus let out a deep sigh.
Ever since Lucius Caesar began to make a name for himself, his mother had subtly started comparing him to the young Caesar.
She made him visit the Caesar household so the two of them could get acquainted.
Whenever his mother did that, Brutus practically fled the house.
So he always ended up seeking out the one relative he felt closest to—his uncle.
"It must be related to the upcoming Vigintisexviri election."
Cato said.
Dressed in a black toga as usual, he was walking through the Forum alone with his nephew, without a single slave.
"Isn't the young Caesar ultimately doing all these things to win the people's favor?"
Brutus sighed again.
"I really don't understand why my mother values him so highly."
"He sold the Roman people on a risky scheme called insurance and handed the lottery scheme over to the Senate."
As Cato stopped walking, Brutus stopped with him.
"Uncle?"
"But Palmolive reduced the number of sick legionaries. And what he did on the Appian Way this time, he paid for out of his own pocket. He really is an unusual young man."
"But he did it to win his own election."
Brutus shrugged.
First his mother, and now even his uncle was praising Caesar.
His stomach tightened.
"Yes, ultimately he did it to get elected. But it's better than simply throwing money at the people."
Cato replied as he started walking again.
"But didn't he blatantly ignore you, Uncle, and even mock you during the hearing in the Senate?"
"What is important is not me, but the Republic. The young Caesar has become far too popular far too quickly. If any family poses the greatest threat to Rome right now, it is the Caesars."
"..."
As the two walked in silence, a crowd of people flocked toward them.
"You're saying it starts today?"
"Yeah, I heard it from my relative! They're handing it out for free for the next ten days or even a month!"
"For a month?! Let's hurry! At this rate, others will take it all."
A group of men in tunics hurried past, arguing loudly.
The crowd kept swelling.
"What on earth is going on?"
"Let us go see for ourselves."
Cato said with a frown.
"Something unusual has definitely happened."
***
"Keep your shield higher! Drive your arm like you mean to thrust! I believe I told you this last time."
The shouts of men and the sound of clashing wooden swords echoed across the plain.
I swung my wooden sword with all my might, but the instructor caught it on his shield.
He lightly tapped my defenseless leg with his shield.
"If this were real combat, you would be lying on the ground by now. I've heard you have a talent for business, sir Caesar, but your swordsmanship needs a bit more practice."
"Well, anyone would look bad next to a Spartan."
Hearing my words, the Spartan instructor burst into laughter.
I wasn't the only one there. The Campus Martius was crowded with noble youths.
Located outside the Pomerium, the Campus Martius was traditionally a place where soldiers trained, and young nobles practiced arms and horsemanship.
While everyone sweated and devoted themselves to training, there were also many who gathered to chat or watch others.
It felt like looking at a 21st-century gym.
Still, it was a relief this wasn't Greece.
I'd heard Greek men trained naked.
Ancient Rome or not, I had no desire to run around a plain completely bare.
"Stand up again. Training isn't over yet."
"Does everyone train like this in Sparta?"
"If we trained like true Spartans, you would probably be getting examined by a doctor right about now, sir Caesar."
The Spartan instructor replied in a calm tone.
It didn't sound like a joke, which made it even scarier.
I had no idea how the Athenians had ever fought men like this.
I always wanted to avoid this kind of training.
But in Rome, every noble youth had to practice swordsmanship and horseback riding.
If you didn't, people would either think you weak or treat you like some kind of oddity.
Just then, someone spoke to me.
"Excuse me, are you by any chance Lucius Julius Caesar?"
"Yes, I am."
I answered and looked them over.
There were three or four young nobles, all about my age.
The man standing at the front let out a sigh of relief.
"I asked just in case, but I was right. I heard you come here often, Lucius Caesar."
"Since this is the only place to train with a sword, I had no choice but to come here."
"I heard about what you did on the Appian Way this time. It was truly amazing."
Another man chimed in.
"To make that many lanterns using your own money for the sake of the citizens. Didn't you also announce that you would personally maintain them?"
"I did."
Standing up, I exchanged greetings with them one by one.
Most of them were the sons of Senators belonging to the Populares faction.
The Populares.
At least in theory, they stood for the rights of the people against the Senate.
But that was merely a justification; there was no shortage of men who used the popular assemblies to gain power for themselves.
"You have no idea how surprised the citizens are."
One of them said, unable to hide his excitement.
"Because you personally investigated the citizens' grievances and pulled off something like that in less than a week. You achieved more in a single night than the Aediles have done over the past few decades."
Instead of answering, I nodded.
Well, streetlights were obvious enough to me.
And I had the waste olive oil from Palmolive production to work with.
Of course, we still weren't in a position to light all of Rome.
Since we demonstrated it on the Appian Way first, we could gradually expand to other major roads.
If we did that, the Senate might reluctantly step in to support it as well.
"With your capabilities, Caesar, you will definitely be elected to the Vigintisexviri."
"I think so too! My family is hosting a banquet soon, and it would be a great honor if you could attend, Caesar..."
"Let me know the time, and I will check my schedule."
I answered with a smile.
These were different from the usual people who cheered me on.
Youths from prominent families who were very likely to become senators, and furthermore, magistrates in the future.
Building friendships with them in advance wouldn't hurt me.
"Sir Caesar, as I said before, training is not over yet."
The instructor cleared his throat.
Left with no choice, I bid farewell to the men and stood back up.
"Let us resume, then."
Just as I sighed and took my stance, I saw Felix running toward me.
"Young Master!"
"Saved by Felix."
"Pardon?"
"It's nothing. What's going on?"
The instructor shot me an accusing glare, but I set down my wooden sword and shield.
It was a relief to finally have an excuse to rest.
Felix, running up to me, panted heavily with his head bowed.
"The Metelli have made their move."
"They made a move? How?"
As expected, they weren't going to sit still.
Since I struck first with the streetlights, they had only two choices: contest an election they were bound to lose, or counterattack.
A house like the Metelli was never going to concede so easily.
"They are handing out bread."
"Bread?"
Handing out bread? What does that mean?
I grabbed Felix's arm.
"Tell me in more detail."
Felix took a few more ragged breaths before finally straightening his back.
"Those bastards are throwing bread to all the citizens of Rome."
"Handing out bread, huh?"
I turned toward the city, toward the walls beyond the Campus Martius.
I could already guess what kind of stunt they're pulling.
***
What happened on the Appian Way quickly spread throughout Rome.
Everyone talked about the new lanterns illuminating the street, and more than anything, they were astonished by how quickly Lucius Caesar had acted.
"Won't the thieves be a bit more careful now too?"
"It's a truly wonderful thing. A man like him should become a magistrate."
"He seems a bit young to be a magistrate, but..."
"What does age matter? As long as he does his job properly."
As the news of the Appian Way spread, other neighborhoods, including Subura, hurried to petition Caesar.
In response to their requests to install streetlights on their streets as well, Caesar sent replies saying he would consider the requests favorably.
By then, citizens took it as a given that Lucius Caesar would be elected to the Vigintisexviri.
But a new incident shook Rome.
"They're handing out bread in the Forum!"
"Bread? For free?!"
"Shut up and just hurry over there!"
One of the most powerful and influential families in Rome, the Metellus family, had made a new announcement.
Their message was simple.
"Our Metellus family will provide an extra subsidy on all grain sold under the Terentian law! So that the Roman citizens can buy bread and provisions at a cheaper price..."
In Rome, there existed the Lex Terentia et Cassia.
Under it, the Republic purchased grain directly and sold it at a cheap price to eligible Plebeian citizens.
The Metellus family promised to use their personal funds to provide additional support on top of that.
It was expected that the cost of this would run to hundreds of thousands of sesterces—perhaps even millions.
"Doesn't this essentially mean we can buy bread for free? I could understand if it were an election for Consul, but to think they're spending this much money to win a Vigintisexviri election; it's unbelievable."
"Glory to the Metellus family!"
"At least we won't have to worry about food for a while."
While the citizens flocked to the distribution centers to receive the promised grain, a new meeting was taking place at the Caesar residence.
"I didn't expect the the Metelli to drop something this huge."
"They probably needed something of this magnitude to divert the citizens' attention from the streetlights. And it's actually working."
Felix said with a sigh.
"Nothing is more attractive to the people than free bread. The votes will tilt toward the Metellus side in this election too."
"But that doesn't mean we can make the same announcement. If we handed out free bread to the Roman citizens, we'd go bankrupt in less than a week."
I looked at a map depicting the city of Rome.
Giving out food for free, huh?
It was crude, shameless—and brutally effective.
It was practically the same as blatantly buying votes.
"How about you take the fight to the forum, Young Master?"
Felix asked.
"Go to the Senate or the Forum and criticize the actions of the Metellus family."
"Of course, I could do that. Morally, I'd have the stronger case."
The Metelli's intentions were obvious.
We'll give you free bread, so vote for us!
Criticizing that wouldn't be difficult.
"But ordinary citizens won't care about who is right or wrong. They'll just think I'm taking away their bread."
"Then they might turn their resentment on you instead."
Felix nodded.
In silence, we fell into thought for a moment.
No suitable solution came to mind.
Of course, I expected a counterattack, but I didn't think they'd come out spending money so recklessly like this.
At that moment, Mother knocked on the door and entered.
"Lucius?"
"It seems something else has happened."
Mother looked serious.
She nodded.
"Cato just gave a speech in the Senate."
"What did he criticize me for this time?"
Dealing with the Metellus was hard enough, but now even Cato was stepping in.
I don't know why bad things always happen all at once.
"Cato did deliver a speech denouncing someone, but the target wasn't you, Lucius."
"Pardon?"
Not me.
Then who did Cato criticize?
"He spoke for nearly half the day, condemning the Metelli for buying votes."
"Cato attacked the Metellus family?"
"He said this: Public office is a position to serve the citizens, not a marketplace to buy votes by throwing sacks of bread."
Felix and I looked at each other in silence.
Cato attacked the Metellus.
"This is getting interesting."
Cato truly was a mad bull.
A bull that would charge forever in defense of what he believed was right.
"If Cato has shaken up the board, we might have a chance as well."