"Palmolive of the Romans, by the Romans, for the Romans, is it?"

  Cicero muttered.

  He held his cup and continued to recite the phrase his slave, Tiro, had brought him.

  "Short, yet truly an excellent piece of writing. I think I understand why Crassus isn't gaining any traction."

  "But isn't Crassus's Palmolive much cheaper?"

  Tiro asked.

  Tiro was a slave who had served Cicero for a long time and was also a master of shorthand.

  For Cicero, who delivered many speeches and legal defenses, Tiro was invaluable.

  "Why do people still use the Palmolive made by Caesar?"

  "Crassus is famous for running massive businesses using slaves. The profits are enormous, but it doesn't win him the citizens' votes."

  Cicero said.

  Crassus bought slaves in massive numbers, trained them, and put them to work to generate immense profits.

  It was no exaggeration to say that practically all his businesses ran on slave labor.

  "But Lucius Caesar mainly hires citizens and freedmen as his employees. Think about how many unemployed people there are looking for jobs in Rome right now, Tiro."

  Cicero tilted his cup and chuckled.

  After Rome won the war against Carthage, massive amounts of land and spoils poured into Rome.

  But the ones who got their hands on it were mostly Patricians and Equites.

  As they poured slaves into vast plantations—latifundia—ordinary farmers had no choice but to sell their land in tears.

  These people came to Rome looking for jobs or fell to the status of tenant farmers working rented land.

  "Lucius Caesar gave jobs to countless people. Think about who their families will support."

  Cicero said as he stood up.

  It wasn't just immediate family members.

  In Rome, there were countless lineages, gentes, and tribes.

  It consisted of countless small communities.

  "Which Palmolive do you think they will buy?"

  "Actually, there is one thing I haven't told you yet."

  Tiro said, scratching his head with his stylus.

  "I heard Lucius Caesar went to meet Pompey today."

  "He went to meet Pompey?"

  Cicero's eyes went wide.

  With the Palmolive war in full swing, there could be only one reason for young Caesar to visit Pompey right now.

  "He's targeting the veterans."

  ***

  "You want to help my veterans?"

  "They have made many sacrifices for the Republic. Yet the Senate refuses to distribute even a small patch of land to them."

  I said, looking at Pompey. I always felt this whenever I saw him—he truly exuded an overwhelming presence.

  Was there anyone who fit the title of general better than Pompey?

  He was the hero who had brought the East to its knees before Rome and eradicated the pirates of the Mediterranean.

  But even a man like him had his worries.

  And the source of the worries was the Senate.

  "The Senate opposes providing land for the veterans to settle on."

  "Those bastards are playing tricks to keep me in check."

  Pompey slammed his fist on the table, startling the slave beside him, who hurriedly stepped back.

  At that, Pompey cleared his throat as if embarrassed.

  "They're trying to keep my authority and standing from growing. Even so, to mistreat the legionaries who put their lives on the line for the Republic! How despicable is that?"

  "I agree with you."

  Tens of thousands of legionaries had fought under Pompey's command.

  They were promised overdue back pay and land upon the completion of the campaign.

  But even now, the Senate was refusing to pass the bill to support them.

  The reason was simple.

  It was to keep Pompey's growing power in check.

  In Rome of this era, the loyalty of the legions lay with the general, not the Senate.

  To keep a political rival in check, the absurd situation of mistreating soldiers was unfolding.

  "How exactly can you help my soldiers?"

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  "First, I can provide what the veterans need most, jobs."

  "Jobs?"

  Pompey asked, intrigued.

  "You must mean your Palmolive factories."

  "Not just Palmolive—insurance and construction as well. Besides those, I plan to launch many more businesses in the future."

  "It sounds good to me, but what reason do you have for making such a proposal? It's too grand a promise just to win my favor."

  "The reason is simple. To give fair compensation to those who fought for Rome."

  "And to absorb my supporters into your own."

  Pompey grinned.

  "But it's not a bad proposal for me either. At least I'll be able to offer my soldiers some minimal compensation."

  "That's not all. I plan to set aside a portion of the profits earned from Palmolive every month to create a fund for the veterans."

  "A fund?"

  Hearing my words, Pompey leaned forward.

  "What exactly does that mean?"

  "I will create a separate organization to support the veterans. Not just providing jobs, but helping them learn to read, write, and acquire practical skills through a school I establish. If necessary, I will even provide a small living stipend until they get a job."

  "..."

  A brief silence fell.

  Pompey opened his mouth several times, only to close it again.

  Soon, he burst into laughter.

  "In all my life, this is the first time I've heard such a thing. If it hadn't been you, Lucius, who said it, I would have thought it was utter nonsense."

  "These are people who dedicated years of their lives—their youth—to the Republic. Shouldn't they receive their due reward?"

  Pompey nodded silently.

  "To offer up your own wealth for that. No politician has ever made such a proposal. What is your true objective?"

  Of course, my true intention lay elsewhere.

  Helping soldiers was a deed worthy of praise in itself.

  But it was also excellent marketing.

  In the 21st century, the term 'social enterprise' was quite popular.

  It referred to a corporate culture that focused on creating social value rather than merely pursuing money and profit.

  Of course, there weren't many cases where this was actually upheld.

  Most of it was just performative charity for marketing, or scams to get government subsidies.

  But right now, I had a reason to aim for this kind of image.

  "Crassus is targeting the wallets of the Roman citizens, and that will be easy enough for him. He just needs to eliminate all competitors and sell the Palmolive made by his slaves."

  But I was aiming for something different.

  "I will win the hearts of the Roman citizens. And hearts are something that can never be bought with money."

  "You're offering jobs and education to veterans without asking for anything in return."

  Pompey muttered.

  The next moment, he let out his characteristic hearty laugh.

  "At this rate, even I'd be won over."

  "Then will you accept my proposal?"

  "Accept your proposal?"

  Pompey rose to his feet and approached me.

  He grabbed my arm and said,

  "From now on, anyone who touches you in Rome will have to go through me first."

  ***

  A dark Roman night.

  Two lovers were enjoying a secret rendezvous under the cloak of darkness.

  "Calling me out so suddenly like this isn't like you, Felix."

  The woman whispered, pressing her body against the wall.

  A thin tunic was all she wore despite the cold, a visible mark of her status as a slave.

  "Saturnalia is coming up soon. I wanted to see your face one more time before then."

  "Wasn't it my breasts you missed, not my face?"

  At her words, Felix only cleared his throat.

  "Did your master catch you?"

  "No one cares at night anyway. I'll just head back soon."

  "That's a relief."

  Felix took something out of his clothes and handed it to her.

  A pure white amphora gleamed in the moonlight.

  "Isn't this the Palmolive with roses in it?"

  Tilia asked, her eyes widening.

  "I heard this is incredibly expensive."

  "Pour it into a plain amphora and use it yourself. Or you can give it to your mistress as a gift."

  "What if she asks where I got it?"

  "Just say it was a gift from Fortuna."

  "How can I accept something this expensive?"

  "You know who my master is. Even I can easily get this much."

  Felix said confidently.

  "If you want, I can even give you a cartful of it."

  Tilia giggled softly at his exaggerated tone.

  "Well, that makes sense—you work under that 'mysterious young Caesar,' after all."

  She whispered, looking over the wall.

  "I still can't quite believe he lives right next door."

  With that, she rose on her toes and kissed Felix on the cheek.

  "Thank you so much for the gift, Felix. But do you know you've become incredibly famous lately too? Not just ordinary citizens—even high-ranking people have been coming to see you and asking for meetings."

  "Just wait a little longer."

  Felix stammered. In the darkness, his blushing cheeks were hard to see.

  "I will definitely talk to the Young Master and have you freed. Then you and I can live together."

  "But you haven't been freed yet yourself."

  Tilia replied, playfully poking Felix's shoulder.

  "You're right. Sometimes I even forget that I'm a slave."

  "What is it like working under young Caesar?"

  "Well, working under him feels quite fascinating. It's like I'm no longer just an ordinary slave, but the protagonist of an epic poem changing history."

  "That's amazing."

  Tilia replied in an envious tone.

  "All I do all day is do the Mistress's hair and bring her water."

  "Just hold on a little longer."

  Felix gently pulled Tilia into an embrace.

  "Actually, the Young Master isn't that mysterious of a person.

  To me, he's not just a master, but an incredibly close friend."

  He whispered.

  "You have no idea how much I think about you every day."

  "I feel the same, Felix."

  The two looked at each other in silence for a moment.

  In the moonlight, the soft night breeze brushed past them.

  The moment passed too quickly and the two soon bid each other farewell.

  When he returned to his room, Felix froze in surprise.

  "Young Master?"

  "Did you enjoy your night stroll?"

  Lucius Caesar asked with a smile.

  He was sitting on a chair in one corner of Felix's room.

  "Why are you in my room at this hour?"

  "I wanted to discuss something with you for a moment."

  "You must've come up with another 'idea,' haven't you?"

  "Well, you could say that. By the way, where did you go? I wandered around the house but couldn't find you. Did you sneak out to meet a woman?"

  "N-No, of course not! I had a headache from working overtime, so I just went out to get some fresh night air."

  "No need to panic. I can understand sneaking out to meet a woman. If it were a man... hmm, I guess I could understand that too."

  "Sorry, sir but that's not my taste."

  Felix said with a sigh.

  Why did fate always play such jokes on him?

  "The goddess Fortuna must really hate me."

  "That's funny."

  Lucius replied with a smile.

  "Because that's exactly what I was going to talk to you about."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "The Goddess Fortuna."

  Lucius took out a papyrus and handed it to him.

  "This is the blow that will cripple Crassus."

  Felix took the papyrus and stared at it blankly for a moment.

  He read the text over and over, but he couldn't quite understand it.

  "Pick one person from among the Palmolive buyers and give them an enormous sum of money."

  He raised his head and looked at Lucius.

  His young master always came up with crazy ideas, but this was simply incomprehensible.

  "Are you, by any chance, drunk?"

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