Chapter 120: Chapter 120 : Caesar Enterprises
Messius drummed his fingers on the table as he surveyed the faces gathered in the meeting room.
Most were people he had never seen before, but there were a few familiar faces.
They were administrative clerks and mid-level managers who had worked alongside him at the paper mill.
"Why would Caesar summon us here?"
"I know, right? We are not exactly important enough to speak with him directly."
The Strategy Office was known as a place reserved for the best of the best.
Messius and the others looked around the meeting room with curious eyes.
"I heard they let you eat as much roasted moray eel as you want if you work here. That must be nice."
"I don’t know about that. I have a friend who works here, and when I brought up roasted moray eel, he practically recoiled in horror."
"Is the moray eel they serve cheap or something?"
"I highly doubt Caesar would do something like that."
As the idle chatter continued, the door to the meeting room swung open.
First came Felix, known as Caesar’s right-hand man. Then Lucius Julius Caesar himself entered the room.
"I know you are all busy, so thank you for coming."
Lucius said as he made his way to the center of the room.
Messius and the others immediately fell silent, hanging on his every word.
"I’m sure you’re all wondering why I summoned you here today."
Lucius stood at the head of the table, resting both hands on the wooden surface.
"Over the past few months, you have all assisted in the operation of the paper mills and submitted various proposals for improvement. You suggested ways to improve production, secure raw materials, and make our operations more efficient."
Messius swallowed hard without even realizing it.
He had submitted a report to his superiors not too long ago.
In it, he had outlined a new method for securing raw materials, but upper management had rejected it, claiming that his proposal was unrealistic.
Even after that, he had brought the idea to his superior several more times, but it was never accepted.
"These were not idle suggestions. Many of you refused to back down and continued to fight for your proposals until the end. But for one reason or another, none of them were adopted."
"...May I ask what exactly you are trying to say?"
Messius asked cautiously, raising a hand.
Right up until he arrived, he had assumed he was being recruited to join the Strategy Office.
But the atmosphere in the room felt entirely different.
"Are you... planning to fire us?"
At his words, the other men in the room nervously turned their heads.
"Fire you? No. Quite the opposite, actually. I am simply here to make you all an offer."
For the first time since entering the room, Lucius let out a soft chuckle.
But his next words made the blood drain from everyone’s faces.
"I am offering you an opportunity to leave the company."
***
"An opportunity to leave the company? Isn’t that just another way of saying you are firing us?"
"Ah, I suppose that could be misunderstood."
I said, letting out a light cough.
Hearing it out loud, I could definitely see why it sounded like a layoff.
But it was quite the opposite.
"As you all know, I am currently working to give all Roman citizens the ability to exchange letters. To achieve that, we will need paper—and a truly massive amount of it.
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.
This required no further explanation.
It was obvious that Rome would require vastly more paper in the years ahead.
Whether for private enterprise or official state business, administrative work was bound to grow at an enormous pace.
"I have the money and manpower to build more paper mills. However, managing countless factories and workshops directly would inevitably create massive inefficiencies. I’m sure you all know exactly what I mean."
That was simply the nature of large organizations.
No matter how hard the people at the bottom worked, potential projects and proposals were often shot down due to politics among those at the top.
My company was no exception to that rule.
No matter how hard you tried, some things just never went away.
But that didn’t mean there was no way to solve the problem.
"You were better than anyone else at identifying problems and proposing improvements. Even though they weren’t accepted, your initiative and dedication are beyond doubt. That is exactly why I want to offer you this opportunity."
"An opportunity to leave the company, you mean?"
"To be precise, an opportunity to build companies of your own."
The men all exchanged bewildered looks.
They seemed to be struggling to grasp what I was proposing.
I decided to get straight to the point.
"No matter how competent the Strategy Office is, it is physically impossible for them to oversee hundreds of factories and workshops directly."
I explained.
In that sense, it was like a wolf pack.
If a pack grew too large, the members would inevitably end up competing with one another for food and mates.
Young wolves usually left the pack they were born into after a year or two, finding their own mates and territories and forming new packs.
I could apply that exact same method.
Of course, humans were far smarter than wolves.
"I will provide you with the funding, resources, and manpower."
"Then would we not simply be managing a new factory for you...?"
"How you choose to operate the workshop will be entirely up to you. You will hold both ownership and management rights, not me."
"But why would you willingly hand over such a valuable opportunity to us, if you gain nothing from it?"
"Because I will profit from it as well—immensely."
I continued my explanation.
In truth, what I was proposing would not have been groundbreaking in the twenty-first century.
It was commonly known as a venture studio or startup studio.
These studios provided the seed capital and operational support that new companies needed to get off the ground.
"The technical school and I will handle the construction of the factories and provide the necessary technology. In return, I will receive a portion of your company’s equity."
"You want a share of the profits."
"Exactly. But even if the venture fails, you will not be held personally liable for the debt. On the other hand, if you succeed, you could make an enormous fortune. You can choose to continue running the company after that, or you can sell it back to me. How does that sound?"
Of course, there was a chance I could suffer a massive loss.
If all the startups I invested in failed, I would bear the losses myself.
But if they succeeded, I would receive an infusion of new blood from outside my bloated organization.
If more paper mills appeared and competition arose among them, overall production would naturally increase.
It would light a fire under my own factories as well.
As I finished my explanation, an awkward silence settled over the room.
Finally, one man raised his hand and spoke.
"I believe we will need some time to think about this."
"Of course. I’m sure there are some of you may not wish to take such a risk. Besides, I will not invest in every proposal blindly."
I might be rich, but I had no intention of handing out piles of gold to anyone who asked.
"I will approve investments only after thoroughly reviewing your business plans. Though, given your track records, I doubt it will be too difficult for you. One more thing. I would strongly advise against even considering fraud or embezzlement. I’m sure you all know exactly what happened to the men caught by Senator Cato recently."
The men all nodded solemnly. Being essentially banished from Rome and denied fire and water in the allied cities and provinces was practically a death sentence.
After a brief Q&A session, they all filed out of the meeting room.
Once we were alone, Felix asked.
"How many do you think will apply?"
"Who knows? I’m not entirely sure myself. But one thing is for certain."
I recalled the glint in the men’s eyes as they left the room.
Every single one of them had left with eyes burning with excitement and zeal.
"They’ve found a new beacon of hope."
How often did ordinary citizens get the chance to run companies of their own?
Perhaps I had just created something resembling the world’s first venture capital firm.
In Palmolive’s case, I had simply made the production method public, but I now had the power to elevate an entire industry.
"Is true capitalism about to take root in Rome?"
"Capitalism? What is that?"
I shrugged as I looked at a confused Felix.
"For now, I suppose we can call it Caesarism."
***
"Why did I have to come here in person of all things?"
Brutus grumbled as he trudged down the street.
As always, the Subura was repulsive, reeking of filth, rotting scraps, and stale sweat.
Brutus glanced at the surrounding buildings, remembering what had happened here not long ago.
He had personally commanded a unit during the operation to capture the Jewish conspirators.
After the bandit campaign, he was slowly growing accustomed to commanding soldiers.
Even so, he was still nowhere near his greatest rival.
"I cannot believe I had to suffer through this just to find that bastard."
At last, Brutus arrived at the mouth of a narrow alley.
Wooden signboards painted with amphorae and beds hung everywhere, announcing the presence of taverns and inns.
But taverns and inns were not the only businesses in this alley.
"Looking for some company, my noble sir? I can use my mouth if you prefer. Though that will cost a little extra."
Women in togas swarmed Brutus, clinging to his arms.
As Brutus hesitated, even more women flocked toward him.
In Rome, prostitutes were the only women who wore togas.
"I did not come here for that."
At Brutus’s sharp reply, the women backed away, eyeing him with obvious disappointment.
"That’s a shame. Though it’s your loss. Come find me if you change your mind."
"Good grief. If anyone sees me here, the rumors would spread like wildfire."
Brutus let out a heavy sigh.
How disappointed would Cato be if he found out?
Shaking his head, Brutus quickened his pace.
More pressing matters were at hand.
He finally reached a tavern marked by a honeycomb-shaped sign.
The tunic-clad owner greeted him as he stepped inside.
"Welcome. Are you looking for a meal?"
"I am looking for a man named Antony. I heard he comes here often these days."
"Ah, you mean the rider."
"The rider?"
"Didn’t he drag those prisoners around on horseback during the last Floralia festival? He is quite famous around here."
The tavern owner flashed a cheeky grin.
"Though from what I hear, horses are not the only things he rides well."
Brutus let out another heavy sigh at the joke.
"If he has a room here, point me to it."
"Upstairs. Third room on the left."
Brutus felt his face flush as he climbed the stairs.
Even in the middle of the day, moans and groans echoed from the adjacent rooms.
Engaging in such vulgar acts in broad daylight rather than at night—how depraved. Brutus shook his head in disgust as he walked down the hall.
His uncle had been right. Rome had undoubtedly fallen into depravity.
He finally stopped in front of the room the owner had pointed him toward.
"Antony! Are you in there?!"
When he knocked on the door, an irritated voice barked from inside.
"Who is it?!"
"It’s Brutus! Open the door! I came all the way here to find you, so at least show your face..."
At that moment, the door swung wide open, and a blond-haired man greeted Brutus.
"Come on in. We just finished."
"Who are you?"
Despite Brutus’s question, the blonde man simply flashed a faint smile and brushed past him.
From inside the room, Antony gestured and shouted.
"I was just about to have some more fun, and you had to go and ruin the mood."
"You were lying with a man in broad daylight?"
"I spent all day yesterday with two women. Even the finest meal grows dull if you eat it every day, you know."
Antony grabbed his tunic from the bed and threw it on.
"So what brings a noble man like you to a vulgar place like this?"
"I came to discuss the upcoming Lusus Troiae."
"The Troy Game?"
"Lucius Caesar has been chosen to command the Trojan faction, has he not? It’s only right that we help him."
"Of course we will, but is that not just riding horses in circles a few times?"
Brutus scoffed at his words.
"Wait. Do you seriously know nothing about the Troy Game?"
"I have little interest in the old noble games that men like you obsess over. How many people even care about that?"
"In the Troy Game, one faction represents the Trojans, and the other represents the Greeks. The two factions compete, displaying their skill against one another."
"Then there is even less to worry about,"
Antony said, stretching his arms high.
"We have stirrups and highly skilled cavalrymen. We only need to train with the allied cavalrymen who have not yet returned home."
"Marsyas the satyr challenged Apollo himself, relying solely on his musical skill. After suffering a crushing defeat, he paid for his arrogance by being flayed alive. You must beware of hubris, Antony. Just because you gained a little popularity during the Floralia does not mean you can grow careless."
"And you, Brutus, need to beware of ruining the mood. Must you quote mythology and Homer every time you open your mouth? It is a bit much."
"Enough nonsense. Get ready to leave."
Brutus shouted, his face turning red.
"I have already called the cavalrymen and the other young nobles to the Campus Martius. Let’s go."
"As you wish, commander."
Antony said, slapping Brutus on the back.
"By the way, did you see Giton leaving just now? If you want, I can introduce you. He is particularly good with his tongue, if you know what I mean..."
"Who in their right mind would want a mouth that has played with your filthy tongue?"
Their bickering echoed down the street long after they left the inn.
***
"You cannot imagine the humiliation you and your cousin caused me in the Senate."
Quintus Metellus spat, his face contorted with anger.
His son stood awkwardly before him as Quintus reclined heavily in his chair.
"But Father, I simply repaid the debt our family owed to Caesar. And by gaining his favor, I thought..."
"Silence! I helped you secure a post as one of the vigintisexviri to elevate your reputation and dignitas, not so you could act as Lucius’s lackey!"
Quintus Metellus waved his hand dismissively, cutting off his son’s excuses.
"This time, I managed to persuade the senators and secure another opportunity for you. It concerns the upcoming Troy Game."
"You mean..."
The younger Metellus’s eyes widened at his father’s next words.
"You will serve as commander of the Greek faction."
The elder Metellus smiled coldly.
"You will face Lucius directly."
