“This turn of events is unfortunate, but it’s not a significant loss for us.”

  “Agreed. In the end, the ones caught by the Trademark Law are the street vendors who actually sold the stuff, not us.”

  Men dressed in togas talked in low voices.

  These were the masterminds behind the distribution of the fake Palmolive that had rocked Rome for the past few weeks.

  They had manufactured the fake palmolive and funneled it to market vendors, raking in astronomical profits. They had essentially turned ordinary olive oil into “Palmolive” and sold it at a massive premium.

  Yet, they were convinced they would never be caught.

  The public’s fury was directed solely at the swindlers in the marketplace.

  No one knew that these men were the ones supplying the fakes.

  “By the way, it's rare for sir Crassus to summon us first.”

  “Perhaps it’s because tax collection in the provinces hasn't been going well lately? Our publicani haven't exactly been hitting their targets either.”

  “It’ll be a headache if he asks for a bigger cut. I’m worried.”

  “Maybe he called us to keep young Caesar in check. Didn't Lucius side with Pompey in the recent vote?”

  They shared an amphora of wine, their tone lively as they speculated. Just then, the door to the meeting room swung open, and a man strode inside. Instantly, every man in the room stood up.

  “Sir Crassus.”

  “Apologies for keeping you waiting. I'm grateful that you all gathered here even though it was a sudden request.”

  “How could we refuse an invitation from you, sir Crassus?” one man asked, carefully gauging Crassus’s mood. “May I ask why you summoned us today?”

  “I have someone I’d very much like to introduce to you.”

  As soon as Crassus finished speaking, another figure entered the room.

  Upon seeing his face, the men’s expressions turned to stone.

  “Wait, you are…”

  “It is an honor to meet you all.”

  A youth who could barely be called a man—Lucius Julius Caesar—looked at them with a bright, beaming smile.

  “I have something urgent to discuss with you today.”

  ***

  In the Roman Republic, power shifted like the tide. A consul rose, a dictator fell—no imperium lasted forever.

  Time flows, a new figure takes the Senate, and the predecessor vanishes into history.

  But money?

  Money never dies.

  Like a ship floating atop the waves, money always survives by riding the currents of power.

  And the men standing before me were the captains of those ships.

  They were the power players who sustained the Roman Republic and pumped blood into its veins.

  They were the ones who collect taxes from the provinces and supply the necessary supplies for the Roman legions.

  “I have something urgent to discuss with you today.”

  “Lucius Julius Caesar. It is indeed an honor for us to meet you as well,” a massive man said, rising from his seat. “The Trademark Law you recently pushed through was truly impressive. Now that such a law has passed, Roman citizens can finally purchase goods in peace, without fear of being deceived by counterfeits.”

  He looked around at the other attendees in the room.

  “I speak not only for myself but for everyone here when I say we sincerely wished for that law to pass.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  I nodded, scanning the room.

  The acting was top-tier.

  If I didn't know better, I’d think I was in a room full of professional actors.

  But the reality was that the men in this room were the ones who had set the stage for the scammers to run wild.

  They were the masterminds who profited immensely from distributing fake Palmolive.

  “You are Mr. Aulus, correct?”

  “I am,” the man replied, looking surprised that I knew his name.

  "I didn't expect you to know my..."

  “Over the past five years, you were granted tax collection rights in the Province of Asia and earned enormous profits.”

  “That is true. I have exerted countless efforts to fill the Republic's treasury.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yet, I wonder how many people know that five million sestertii went missing from the ledgers? It seems you extorted more than the designated tax from the province and lined your own pockets.”

  Aulus’s face froze.

  He glanced at Crassus, who sat at the head of the table, but Crassus merely shrugged.

  Crassus wasn't the one who told me. My source was elsewhere.

  “And despite that, you requested the Senate to reduce your payment amount, claiming not enough taxes were being collected this year.”

  “That is… that is absolute nonsense. How dare you claim such...!”

  I turned my head to look at another man.

  “And you, Mr. Rufus. You intentionally lowered the quality of the supplies you promised to supply to Pompey’s legions to pocket the difference.”

  “What did you say?!” the men shouted, bolting upright. “Are you trying to threaten us? Even if you received a revelation from Vesta to create insurance and Palmolive, this is crossing the line!”

  “Threatening? I haven’t even reached the main point yet.”

  I placed both hands on the table.

  Every one of them was likely dying to know where I got this information.

  If not from Crassus, then where?

  The answer was simple.

  “I am here to offer you a proposal. Not a threat.”

  “A proposal. Fine, let’s hear it then,” Aulus said. Though his tone was calm, it was obvious he was barely suppressing his rage.

  “You all made a big profit through selling fake Palmolive.”

  “How dare you make such claims without any kind of proof—”

  “There’s no need to worry. I have no intention of reporting you. At least, not yet.”

  Doing that would bring me no benefit.

  Even if I hauled these men before the Senate, I couldn't expect a fair trial.

  They would likely just throw money and secure a quick acquittal.

  Finding solid evidence or witnesses would be near impossible anyway.

  They weren't the ones making the soap; they were the shadows behind the curtain.

  But that didn't mean I was out of options.

  “Then, young Caesar, what exactly are you proposing?”

  “I want you all to invest in me.”

  “Invest? In you?”

  Aulus tilted his head. He clearly hadn't expected this.

  “You want us to invest in your business?”

  “Not a business. I want you to invest in 'me'.”

  “What on earth does that mean?”

  “I plan to launch many things in the future. And currently, my funds are… a bit tight.”

  I replied with a smile.

  The insurance business and Palmolive were already devouring massive amounts of capital.

  But I had no intention of stopping there. At the very least, before my father returned from Hispania, I had to build an unshakeable base of influence in Rome.

  To do that, I needed capital that made my current holdings look like pocket change.

  The men in front of me were essentially my new ATMs.

  “Lending money is something we can discuss anytime. Determining the interest rate is always—”

  “Interest?” I asked in a nonchalant tone. “I am proposing an alliance. Surely you wouldn't demand interest from a partner in the same boat?”

  “Preposterous! Are you trying to rob us now?”

  “I’ll say it again: it’s an investment. I will pay back the original money, so don't worry about that.”

  “I’ve heard enough of your nonsense!” Aulus shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “Go ahead and report us to the Senate. If you thought we’d roll over for such a ridiculous threat, you’re gravely mistaken!”

  “Does everyone else here agree with Mr. Aulus?”

  At my question, the other men just glanced at one another.

  Right, they were afraid of what would happen if they rejected my offer.

  I walked over to Aulus and gently patted his arm.

  “The recent protests in the Forum and the enactment of the Trademark Law have sent the Roman citizens' rage toward fake Palmolive to the heavens. It’s loud enough for Jupiter himself to hear.”

  I continued softly.

  “What do you think would happen if I were to name you all as the culprits behind the distribution of fake Palmolive?”

  “…”

  “Do you really think you’d survive long enough to reach the courtroom?”

  The men’s faces turned white. Yes, they finally understood what I meant.

  They could buy an acquittal in court, but they couldn't buy off the fury of the Roman citizens.

  They would be beaten to death by the angry victims before reaching the courtroom.

  They wouldn't even be able to walk the streets of Rome anymore.

  “T-that…”

  “Do you think you can get away with threatening us like this?!”

  “Yes. And I also believe you will give me the money quite willingly.” I shrugged. “The citizens of Rome believe I created Palmolive through a revelation from Vesta. Between my word and yours, whose do you think they will believe?”

  “…”

  The board was set. The game was mine. I looked at each man, one by one, and drove the final nail in.

  “Now, let us discuss the specific amount each of you will be contributing for this 'investment'.”

  ***

  “Why didn’t you just take the money?”

  After the men had all scurried out of the room, only Crassus and I remained.

  He asked me with an intrigued tone.

  “If you borrow it, you’ll eventually have to pay it back.”

  “But I’m not paying any interest. It’s essentially free capital.”

  Thinking simply, taking money from them would be easier. But I was aiming for something else.

  “If I simply robbed them, they would surely plot revenge. They would do everything in their power to ruin me and get their money back.”

  But now, things were different. They had ‘voluntarily’ lent a massive sum to me.

  If something happened to me, their chances of recovering their capital would vanish.

  “So now, they have no choice but to help you, if only to ensure they get their money back.”

  Crassus leaned back in his chair.

  A man like him would have realized it already, but he seemed to want to hear it from me.

  “By the way, where on earth did you get information on their embezzlement?”

  “The Caesar family has its ways.”

  I gave a thin smile as an answer.

  It was the list of the Caesar family’s clients and debtors that my mother had entrusted to me.

  I had simply reached out to the people on that list.

  Asking them to pass a law was a huge favor, but asking for a little dirt? That was a minor request.

  The debt they owed the Caesar family remained, and I used it to squeeze the publicani for cash.

  It was a perfect resolution.

  “A lender never wants the borrower to die.”

  When someone lends a massive amount of money, they have to ensure the borrower succeeds to get it back.

  Now, those men would never hinder me. In fact, they would probably be my biggest supporters.

  “Now, they’ll probably pray every day to Jupiter for my health and prosperity.”

  “An explanation that makes perfect sense, considering the money your father borrowed from me,” Crassus smirked and leaned forward. “So, what will you do with this massive pool of capital? Surely you aren’t jumping into another business already?”

  “Well, first I’ll have to scale up the Palmolive business. Orders are still flooding in, after all.”

  While the tide was high, I had to row as hard as I could.

  But what comes next? What was the best use for this mountain of capital I’d just secured?

  Then it hit me.

  “I’m thinking of establishing a new school.”

  It was time to start feeding the beast—

  a colossal one that would eventually devour all of Rome.

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