"Come on, what is everyone doing? Let's get moving!"
"So, what are we supposed to be building?"
"First things first: our own quarters. Then the storehouses for the construction materials."
The first to spring into action were the surveyors.
They measured out the necessary plot of land, ensuring it formed a perfect rectangle.
Flags marked the corners, the positions and widths of the gates on each side, the main thoroughfares, and the exact spots where the barracks would be built.
"Alright, let's get to work!"
At the sharp blast of a signal horn, the laborers moved as one.
With the squad leaders delegating tasks, the men leveled the high ground, felled trees, and stripped them of their branches.
They cleared away rocks, filled in depressions with dirt, and hauled the excavated debris far from the site.
Though short breaks were given here and there, it took less than two hours to complete the groundwork.
Watching from a nearby hill, Felix muttered to himself.
The sight of the workers moving without a single wasted step was almost hypnotic, like watching a swarm of bees in a hive.
"This looks exactly like... a military encampment."
"That's because it is an encampment."
Vitruvius replied as he peered through the telescope at his side.
"Otherwise, they never could have erected the quarters and storehouses this fast, even with the materials prepared in advance. Now all that is left is pitching the tents and erecting the barracks."
"Does the legion always work at this breakneck pace?"
"If they don't work fast, where would they sleep? The entire purpose of a marching camp is to repel enemy attacks and provide a safe place to rest. If you can't build it quickly, it's completely useless."
Vitruvius pointed a finger at the site.
"Everything is standardized, from the commanders' tents down to the regular legionaries' barracks. No matter where they build a camp, it always follows the exact same layout. Once you're used to it, you can find your tent with your eyes closed."
"..."
Felix silently stared at the construction site. He had often heard tales of legionaries leveling mountains and moving hills, but seeing it with his own eyes was an entirely different thing.
Finally, he understood why Lucius had gone to such lengths to court the veterans.
Men who worked their fingers to the bone without a single word of complaint, masters of construction and manual labor.
Where in the world could you find better workers than them?
"Bringing in veterans to build an encampment right outside the walls of Rome. If you handed them weapons, it would be like having an army encamped at Rome's gates."
"Are you getting the urge to march on Rome?"
"The Young Master might just be thinking exactly that."
Just as Felix let out a wry chuckle, a figure crested the hill, waving at them.
"Felix! What are you doing up there? Come on down!"
"What is it, Young Master?"
"The real work is about to begin. We need to pitch in."
"I understand that, but why are you only wearing a tunic instead of a toga?"
Felix asked, frowning. Unlike his usual attire, Lucius was not wearing his formal toga.
"On a day as important as this, you should be wearing your toga."
"It's too hard to work in a toga."
"Work? You don't mean..."
Felix muttered, a sense of dread washing over him.
"Are you saying you're going to do manual labor down there with other workers?"
"It's the first day of construction. We need to be out there breaking a sweat with them. Even if it's just a show."
"But there's no need for you to do that yourself..."
"Anyone listening would think I'm doing it alone, Felix."
At Lucius's next words, Felix flinched.
"Of course you're going to be right there beside me, helping out. What are friends for?"
Felix let out a long, suffering sigh before answering.
"I would love to know the exact definition of 'friend,' Young Master."
＊＊＊
It took less than three days to construct quarters and storehouses for thousands of workers.
Building materials, including timber, had already been prepared, and the veteran laborers completed the work with practiced ease.
"Back when we were in the legion, we did this for a few coins. Now we're getting paid a handsome wage. Makes you actually want to work."
"You said it. On top of that, anyone with a housing savings account receives priority in the housing lottery if they work here for a certain period. You couldn't ask for a better deal."
"Then it's basically like we're building our own houses, isn't it?"
Of course, this encampment wasn't meant to be permanent housing.
The plan was to build the initial block of insulae, use some of them as living quarters, and then tear down this temporary camp.
However, with such a massive workforce stationed across the Tiber, merchants eager to profit from the workers soon followed.
They set up stalls throughout the camp, selling food and various other goods.
Almost overnight, the camp had become a bustling market town.
The laborers usually stayed in the camp for several days at a time before returning home to rest.
Merchants provided them with all sorts of wares and meals.
But those selling food quickly found themselves out of luck.
"Seriously, why is Caesar handing out free food to his workers?"
"Right? If he just left it to us, he'd save a fortune."
"How good can free food be, anyway? We still have a chance."
Contrary to their hopes, the workers were completely raving about the free meals.
"This stuff is incredible. What did they call it again?"
"Pastio? Pasta? Something like that."
"It is a little awkward to use this strange utensil, but by Jupiter, it is delicious."
"It is much easier to eat with your hands. You only have to wash them afterward."
Pasta, along with the numerous other dishes served, became an instant sensation.
When the workers returned home on their days off and raved about it to their families, a pasta craze swept through Rome like wildfire.
"I hear they are serving that dish at every respectable patrician banquet nowadays."
"Rumor has it Lucius Caesar invented the recipe himself."
"Lucius himself?"
As pasta's popularity soared, demand for noodles grew by the day.
But mass-producing pasta in Rome was no easy feat.
As news of this culinary gold rush spread to other cities via the signal towers, provincial merchants scrambled to start producing pasta themselves.
"That tool they use to make the noodles... If I order one now, when can I get it?"
"They say there's a massive backlog of orders."
"Caesar must be making a fortune. Who knew a simple cooking tool could bring in so much money?"
"Haven't you heard? Lucius made the schematics for the tool public. You can request the design by mail. All you have to pay is the postage."
"Wait, seriously?"
"Yeah. According to Lucius..."
The merchant who brought the news scratched his head as he continued.
"He said that trying to keep pasta from Italians was like trying to monopolize the sun."
"Monopolize the sun... Does he really think it's that legendary of a dish?"
"To give up a great opportunity like this... He is really something."
The merchants all nodded, moved by his words.
Meanwhile, across the Tiber River, construction pressed on relentlessly.
＊＊＊
"I didn't expect to find you working out here again today."
"I just drop by in the mornings to show my face."
I brought the wheelbarrow to a stop and set it down.
My father waved his lictors away and stepped toward me.
All around us, lines of laborers in helmets toiled beneath the sun.
The process was meticulous: first, they dug down to solid earth. Then they laid down large foundation stones, filling the gaps between them with smaller gravel and a lime mixture.
Finally, they took turns pounding it all flat with heavy wooden mallets.
"It's actually more fun than I thought. There's a lot to learn, too."
The most crucial part was mixing lime with sand and water to create mortar.
The quality of the mortar depended on the type of sand used and the ratio of lime, sand, and water.
"Are you sure you aren't just happy to escape the complicated paperwork? Felix has been grumbling about how much busier he is these days."
"Felix has always been busy. And he's always been grumbling."
I replied with a laugh. Well, I had always played the role of a captain who merely steered the ship in the right direction. Now, that ship was sailing smoothly without me having to oversee every detail.
Now, my ark was sailing quite smoothly without me having to micromanage every single order.
"I think I see some familiar faces over there."
Father pointed toward a group of young men hauling bricks.
They looked distinctly younger than the hardened laborers around them.
They were the patrician youths who had caused the late-night assault incident a while back.
"I heard they were all working at the bank's counters."
"I figured being cooped up inside an insula all day wouldn't be good for their health."
I said, waving cheerfully at them. Spotting my father and me, they visibly panicked and frantically began hauling their bricks faster.
"Shouldn't young men get some fresh air and exercise every now and then?"
"There is truly no one more ruthless than you, Lucius."
My father burst into laughter before turning his gaze back to me.
"So, is this the handcart you invented? It looks a lot more practical than I expected."
"It's a lifesaver on construction sites like this."
I let go of the wheelbarrow's handles and wiped the sweat from my brow.
In truth, there was probably no invention simpler yet more practical than the wheelbarrow.
If I remembered correctly, wheelbarrows had first been used in ancient China.
It was a very simple mechanism: a single wheel, designed to be pushed or pulled by human strength.
You could even add extra wheels if needed.
"Honestly, it is inconvenient to use on uneven ground. Like any cart on uneven ground, the wheelbarrow jolts violently."
I tapped the cart's wheel with my foot as I spoke.
Like all wheels in this era, it lacked a rubber tire.
Wooden wheels were sturdy, but they were terrible at absorbing shock.
The carts were especially difficult to maneuver over bumpy terrain.
"But on a construction site, we level the ground beforehand. We clear away all the loose rocks and gravel. So it is much easier to use here."
"And I see you have even dug grooves specifically for the wheelbarrows, so the wheels can roll along them smoothly."
Father bent down to examine the long grooves carved into the earth.
These shallow tracks connected various parts of the construction site like a network of veins.
Countless workers were already pushing their wheelbarrows smoothly along these guiding ruts.
"This way, you can move the cart easily without it shaking out of control. We could lay out the drainage channels beside the new roads in the same carefully planned way. It would let merchants move their goods smoothly, and it'd cut down on the noise, too."
Rome in this era had far too many unpaved roads.
The plan for the new city was to pave every single major street.
Not only would carriages travel more smoothly, but citizens would also be able to walk comfortably without wading through mud.
"The new insulae will be much safer than the old ones, too. We're using solid stone for the corners and pillars instead of wood, and building the walls thick enough so that if a fire breaks out, it won't spread to the next building immediately..."
As I rambled on, I noticed my father watching me with a quiet, fond smile.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
Father replied, waving his hand.
"Throughout history, politicians have always been obsessed with constructing colossal monuments to showcase their glory. Grand theaters, towering temples, massive bridges. No one has ever paid attention to such trivial, everyday details like you do, Lucius."
"Well, nobody lives in a theater or a temple."
I looked out over the laborers laying the foundations. This new city would become the proof needed to persuade the rest of Rome.
It was a vision of a future completely different from the present—not a pipe dream, but a tangible possibility that any Roman could grasp if he reached for it.
Romans were already absorbing the technologies and ideas I had introduced at a remarkable pace. Wouldn't this new city accelerate that change even further?
"It's too early to be impressed. We still have plenty of groundbreaking buildings left to construct."
"What kind of buildings?"
"For example, what about a place where we could bring physicians together to train them? And what if the same place could also house and treat patients suffering from a wide range of illnesses?"
"That would require a massive complex."
My father frowned, considering the idea.
"A facility to train doctors and accommodate countless patients simultaneously. Why build something like that?"
"Because it will save a great many lives."
Roman medicine was not wholly primitive, but there were still many areas that desperately needed reform.
If I established a general hospital—or, better still, a teaching hospital—I could spread new techniques and medical knowledge far more quickly.
I could use the postal system to spread that knowledge even farther.
"And it will be helpful for you, too, Father."
Since the last incident, my father had not suffered another seizure. But I couldn't afford to get complacent.
I needed a dedicated facility where treatments and medical methods could be tested carefully.
"Anyone listening would think I am bedridden and waiting to die."
Father let out a soft chuckle.
"But if such a facility were actually built, the citizens of Rome would undoubtedly welcome it with open arms."
Instead of replying, I just nodded.
"It would not just be a hospital, though."
It would be a place that brought students from across Italy together to teach them specialized knowledge and provide practical training.
In other words, what Rome needed right now was a university.
I did have the Academia I ran for my employees, but its classes were irregular and it had only a small number of students.
To establish a true institution of higher learning, I needed dedicated buildings, permanent teachers, and the right environment.
"I want to give an opportunity to anyone who hungers for knowledge and change."
"An opportunity for what?"
"The opportunity to reach for what they desire."
I said.
As the saying goes, knowledge is power.
Then I would put that power in the hands of every Roman.
Other than medicine, the thing Rome needed most was...
"I suppose I should send out another wave of letters across Italy."
***
In the midst of Rome's bustling development, blacksmiths across the Italian peninsula received a peculiar letter.
They were all master craftsmen who forged everything from weapons to farming implements.
Only those with the finest reputations and the greatest skill were selected.
"What in the world is this?"
"We're being invited to Rome?"
"It says Lucius Caesar himself will cover all travel expenses. They are even offering an additional stipend to compensate us for our time."
"Why would he go out of his way to spend so much coin just to drag craftsmen like us to Rome?"
"I have no idea. But with that much money being offered, is there any reason not to go?"
"Fair enough."
Over the next few weeks, armed postal escorts brought the master smiths to Rome one by one.
Lucius welcomed them with a lavish banquet, where they spent the evening over fine wine and rich food.
"Now then, shall we get down to business?"
At Lucius's sudden change in tone, the craftsmen exchanged wary looks.
"You mentioned there was something you wanted to show us? What exactly is it?"
"It is quite simple."
Lucius replied with a grin.
"A new metal for a new Rome."