"How are things holding up, Felix?"
"With the young master away, it feels as though the sea has finally calmed," Felix replied with a light chuckle.
He offered a seat to Pompeia, who had just stepped into his office.
"He always told me to prepare for the storm. But honestly, it feels like he's the biggest storm of all."
"A storm, you say?"
"Ah, it's nothing. Just something the young master used to say from time to time," Felix said, clearing his throat.
It wasn't that he was entirely out of work.
As Lucius Caesar toured the allied cities and spearheaded the campaign against the bandits, the workload back in Rome naturally increased.
The terms of the negotiations with the allied cities had to be constantly updated, and now he was bogged down brokering deals with slave merchants to sell off the captured bandits.
But compared to the chaos of when Caesar was actually in Rome, all of this felt like minor paperwork.
"You must be overwhelmed with work.. I'm sorry to add to your burden," Pompeia said softly.
"Not at all. You've stepped in to help the young master on numerous occasions, haven't you?" Felix smiled.
She had already been an enormous help during the Vigintisexviri elections.
By drafting and distributing the flyers defaming Metellus that flooded the streets of Rome, she had practically paved the way for Caesar's smooth victory.
"Is there anything I can assist you with?"
"Actually, I have a favor to ask."
At Pompeia's gesture, a slave standing behind her stepped forward and placed a thick stack of papers on the table.
"What is this...?"
"These are the letters Lucius has been sending me since he left Rome. They chronicle his journey and the campaign."
"I hardly think it's appropriate for me to read your personal letters," Felix coughed awkwardly.
These were letters exchanged between the young master and Pompeia.
What kind of subordinate would dare read them?
"Don't worry. I've already edited them, and I received permission from Lucius himself."
"You edited them?"
Pompeia nodded.
"Through this campaign, Lucius has eradicated nearly a thousand bandits. At the same time, he has rescued hundreds of victims. And even at this very moment, he is out there saving more."
She tapped her finger against the stack of papers.
"Don't you think more Roman citizens and allied cities need to hear about this?"
"You want to have them published as a book."
Felix muttered in realization.
It wasn't an entirely foreign concept.
Countless lawyers, including Cicero, published records of their court defenses, and many generals and governors published accounts of their military campaigns and provincial achievements.
"Publishing it only as a book isn't enough," Pompeia continued.
"We need to create summarized pamphlets so the common people can read them easily at the Forum. And we must send copies ahead to the allied cities Lucius hasn't even visited yet."
"That is... a truly brilliant idea."
Felix carefully lifted the top page and skimmed it.
It was written in the third person, reading much like an official military report.
It detailed exactly what choices Lucius Caesar made, and what commands he issued.
Reading the record, a faint smile graced Felix's lips.
It seemed his young master hadn't changed one bit, even in the thick of a grueling campaign.
"Understood. I'll hire extra scribes immediately and have this published. I'll also commission smaller, cheaper editions so the people can read them in the streets."
"I knew I could count on you, Felix," Pompeia smiled as she stood up to leave the office.
"Just as Lucius always says, you are an exceptionally capable man."
"You have no idea how terrifying it is for me to hear such high praise, my lady," Felix replied with a smile.
However, that very afternoon, his smile vanished completely with the arrival of another woman.
"You wish to publish a book as well?"
"You are aware that my son, Brutus, is currently accompanying Lucius Caesar, correct? These are the accounts my son has been sending back."
Servilia, dressed in an elegant red stola, gave a nod.
"Read them. If these accounts are published, it will be a massive help not just to my son, but to Caesar as well."
"I... I see."
Felix muttered, reluctantly accepting the stack of papers Servilia shoved into his hands.
Why do these things always happen on the exact same day?
"I shall review them at once, my lady."
***
After the coalition forces led by Caesar annihilated the bandit factions gathered in the Aurunci Mountains, the bandit presence across Italy seemed to vanish almost overnight.
It wasn't just the bandits who were slaughtered or captured; those who escaped the dragnet abandoned banditry and vanished into the woods.
"Who in their right mind would dare rob anyone now?"
"If you get caught, you're instantly sold off to the salt mines... We have to lay low for a while."
"You think it'll just be 'for a while'? Once those towers are fully built, it will be almost impossible to rob anyone on the roads."
People always put their own safety and profit first.
With the risks of banditry now outweighing the potential rewards, their numbers naturally plummeted.
Amidst this sweeping change, Lucius Caesar didn't rest.
He continued to march his forces across the Italian countryside.
However, his destination wasn't the allied cities.
"Over here! We found them!"
"P-Please! Spare us! Don't kill us!"
"Don't worry! We're here to save you!"
The cavalrymen shouted as they dismounted.
The soldiers were raiding the hidden bandit strongholds tucked away in the mountains, liberating the kidnapped hostages.
"There are still some bandits left over there! Catch them!"
***
"Over six hundred people rescued so far. It truly is a staggering number."
I watched the remaining bandits being dragged out of the caves, tightly bound with ropes.
Since the main force had already been wiped out at Mount Aurunci, the only bandits left here were the dregs assigned to guard the captives.
By interrogating both the rescued victims and the captured bandits, we managed to pinpoint the locations of these hidden camps.
The vast majority of the hostages were women ranging from young girls to older women, some with daughters of their own.
Some of them were pregnant, and others clutched newborn infants to their chests.
I didn't need to ask who the fathers were.
The bandits kidnapped these people off the roads to use as sexual slaves or sell off to foreign markets.
Even by the brutal standards of this era, it was revolting.
The women bowed repeatedly in front of the soldiers and me, thanking us over and over.
Many broke down into hysterical sobs, while others simply collapsed to the ground, completely drained of strength.
"Thank you for saving us, Caesar... I was considering biting my own tongue and ending it all."
"I have already sent word to the allied cities. We will ensure every single one of you is safely escorted back to your homes."
I dismounted from my horse and spoke with them.
"It is a pittance compared to the pain you've endured, but I will be distributing my share of the profits from selling these bandits to you."
The women looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"We are already grateful just to be saved... How could we possibly accept your money?"
"It is also Rome's fault for failing to protect you in time."
To think there were this many victims hidden away.
I had never read about anything on this scale in any of the Roman history books.
No, of course I hadn't.
The victims never had a chance to make their existence known.
The murdered and enslaved do not get to write the histories.
Just how many victims had suffered in silence over the centuries, right up until Emperor Augustus finally undertook his campaigns against the bandits?
While I was doing my best to comfort the women, Aquillius approached me holding a few sheets of papyrus.
"Imperator, you should read this."
I scanned the contents of the papyrus.
There were rows upon rows of numbers and names.
"Now this is interesting."
There was only one thing this ledger could represent.
"It is a list of the slave merchants who purchased the victims from these bandits. It details the exact transaction amounts and dates as well. For men like them, they kept surprisingly meticulous records," Aquillius nodded.
"And quite a few of the names on that list belong to the very merchants who just purchased the captured bandits from us."
"..."
Aquillius was right.
It was just as I suspected.
The bandits couldn't directly show themselves in the open slave markets.
Instead, they used these established slave merchants as middlemen to disguise the kidnapped citizens as legitimate slave stock before shipping them off to provinces like Greece or North Africa.
It was the exact same method as a chop shop fencing stolen cars.
"How do you wish to proceed, sir?"
Aquillius looked at me with a probing gaze.
I knew exactly why he was asking.
He was asking if I was going to turn a blind eye and honor my deal with the slave merchants, or if I was going to take action.
"With this ledger, we could extort more money from the merchants than they promised." I held up the papyrus.
But truth be told, I didn't care much for that kind of money right now.
Besides, we had already sold off most of the captured bandits anyway.
These slave merchants had spent years lining their pockets by colluding with the bandits, only to instantly sell them out to me the moment the tide turned.
If they were so eager to betray their business partners, there was no reason I couldn't betray them.
"I need to send a message to Rome."
Well, Crassus is going to love this.
***
"When was the last time we saw profits like this?"
"I know. But let's not celebrate too early. The bandits who supplied our special 'stock' have all been rounded up. Our revenue is bound to take a hit for a while, isn't it?"
"Well, the bandit purge was inevitable anyway. We should just be glad we managed to squeeze one last massive profit out of it."
Inside a sprawling domus in Rome, dozens of wealthy men sat around a lavish banquet table, engaged in heated conversation.
They were the leading slave merchants of Rome; except for Crassus himself, no one could compete with their dominion over the market.
"We'll just have to scale back operations for a bit. Besides, haven't you noticed more and more businesses hiring freedmen lately, all thanks to Lucius Caesar?"
"True. We need to start thinking seriously about our future profits."
"Why don't we try cooperating more closely with Lucius Caesar? He seems to be a much more reasonable and practical young man than we initially feared."
"Agreed. At the end of the day, every man moves for coin, doesn't he? I think he has taken an interest in our slave trades."
Just as they were enjoying their feast and discussing future business ventures, a loud pounding echoed from the front gates.
"Someone go see who that is!"
At the host's command, the slaves rushed to the entrance.
The moment the heavy wooden doors creaked open, a squad of armed men barged into the courtyard.
Seeing the intrusion, the host and the merchants scowled and shot up from their seats.
"Who do you think you are, barging into a patrician's home like this?!"
The next second, their faces froze solid.
Following the armed men were Lictors carrying fasces.
Carrying weapons within the sacred boundary of Rome was strictly forbidden, but there was one exception: the Lictors, the official bodyguards of the Roman magistrates.
They carried the fasces—bundles of wooden rods bound together, symbolizing the magistrate's power and jurisdiction.
"How convenient. You're all gathered in one place."
A man in a white toga smiled as he casually strolled up to the banquet table.
"A praetor? What brings a man of your esteemed position to my humble house?"
The host wasn't the only one panicking.
The other slave merchants stared at the Praetor with faces pale with tension.
"A formal criminal complaint has been filed against every single one of you. You are to accompany me at once for questioning."
"A complaint? Who on earth filed a complaint against us, and on what charges?!"
"The illegal kidnapping and trafficking of Roman citizens."
At the Praetor's words, the blood drained from the merchants' faces, leaving them ashen white.
"The evidence submitted alongside the complaint is quite extensive, you see. I suggest you make ready, for this may take some time."
***
"I refuse to die like this. I'll survive, no matter what it takes."
Seleucus muttered, glaring at the walls of his cell.
He had been locked in this dingy hole for several days now.
When the Roman soldiers captured him, he expected to be executed on the spot.
The Romans showed no mercy to bandits, and they certainly wouldn't spare a gang leader.
However, contrary to his expectations, the Romans had simply tossed him in a cell and left him alone.
There was no torture. Not even a simple interrogation.
He was fed decent meals three times a day, and there were even cuts of meat on his plate.
"What exactly are these bastards plotting?"
Seleucus growled, yanking at the heavy iron chains shackling his ankles.
Just then, heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor, and his cell door swung wide open.
Blinded by the sudden sunlight, he raised his bound hands to shield his eyes.
"How have you been?"
"You...!"
Seleucus spat.
Standing in the doorway was that lunatic Roman officer who had dragged him by the neck on a rope.
"It's about time we moved out, so I came down to check on your condition."
"You think tossing me a few scraps of meat is going to make me talk?! You won't get a damn thing out of me!" Seleucus roared, spitting on the floor.
"If you're just planning to sell me off as a slave—"
"A slave? You are gravely mistaken. The Imperator has absolutely no intention of selling you into slavery."
"Then what? You want information?!"
"We don't need that either. Your men already sang like birds the second we showed branding irons. And we've already rescued all the hostages you kept locked away."
"Then why...?"
"Why didn't we torture you, and why did we feed you so well?"
Antony smiled, wiping the spit from his cheek.
"It's quite simple, really. We needed you in the best possible condition. Did you enjoy the food? Consider it your last supper."
"You think I'll beg for my life?! Kill me right now, you filthy Roman dogs!"
Seleucus grabbed the plate and hurled it at the wall.
As chunks of bread and meat scattered across the dirty floor, Antony simply shrugged.
"Still haven't figured it out, have you? This is exactly why I hate dealing with fools. Boys, drag him out."
"Yes, sir!"
The legionaries marched in, grabbed Seleucus by the arms, and dragged him out of the cell.
A short while later, as he was hauled into the light, Seleucus finally realized that what awaited him.
It wasn't a standard execution site.
Two massive wooden beams greeted him.
One laid vertically, the other was fixed across it horizontally.
Every person in Italy knew what that shape meant.
"W-Wait! No! No!"
Despite Seleucus's frantic, thrashing screams, the soldiers pinned him down and bound his limbs to the wood.
Moments later, a soldier carrying a hammer and thick spikes approached him.
At a subtle gesture from Lucius Caesar, the cross was slowly hoisted into the air.
The Roman soldiers, as well as the rescued women, watched in total silence as Seleucus was raised up against the sky.
"We resume our march to the allied cities!"
At Lucius Caesar's command, the massive column of cavalry slowly moved forward.
And leading the vanguard of the march was Seleucus, nailed firmly to his cross.
A water-soaked sponge had been forcefully jammed into his mouth—not out of mercy, but to prevent him from biting his own tongue, and to stave off death by dehydration just a little bit longer.
Seleucus couldn't open his mouth.
And yet, he had to scream.