Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building]

Chapter 141: Chapter 141 : Stamp On It

A One-Year Republic Development Plan.

Over a hundred new policies, accompanied by the establishment of numerous committees.

The announcements Caesar made at the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitoline Hill immediately spread across Rome and all of Italy.

Even before the news arrived, a massive crowd of citizens had already gathered in the town forum, waiting in eager anticipation.

"Has the news from Rome arrived yet?"

"Any time now. Let’s wait just a bit longer."

Prompted by the impatient crowd, the town criers, having received the full text, began reading it aloud.

"The new Harbor Committee will include Senator Metellus and..."

"Furthermore, twenty senators will participate in the Road Improvement and Street Lighting Committees. The full roster will soon be..."

As the crier continued his report, the murmur of the crowd swelled into a roar.

"Wait, is Caesar truly planning to push through all those policies at once?"

"I have never heard of anything like this in my entire life."

From roads, public security, and sanitation to a variety of massive construction projects, every single policy Caesar announced was monumental in scope.

"Can they really do all of this in a single year?"

"I’d be stunned if they manage even half of it."

While the citizens engaged in heated debates over the feasibility of the plan, the two most critical pieces of news went largely unnoticed.

The first was that the proceedings of all Senate meetings would be made public from then on.

The second was that a massive number of committees would be formed to carry out the One-Year Plan.

These two announcements, which most citizens brushed off as insignificant details, were tearing the Senate apart.

***

"Who could have imagined Cicero would stand up to Caesar like that?"

"Indeed. To think Cato would remain completely silent while Cicero took the lead... Wasn’t that man practically groveling before Pompey until recently?"

Hortensius listened to his fellow senators in silence. They were gathered at his estate, enjoying a banquet as usual.

But the atmosphere today was starkly different.

This was the first gathering of the major Optimate senators since Caesar’s announcement.

Ever since Metellus—one of their strongest pillars—had defected, the Optimate faction had been severely shaken.

How were they supposed to stop the blatant, public alliance of Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus? To preserve their influence within the Senate, that triumvirate had to be checked by any means necessary.

However, after yesterday’s Senate meeting, the political landscape had been completely upended.

The One-Year Plan itself was not entirely unexpected. But Caesar had dropped something no one could have anticipated.

"Just how many names are written on that proscription list?"

Proscription list.

That was what the senators called the roster Caesar had announced.

When the dictator Sulla ruled Rome by the sword, he had published lists naming his political enemies.

The moment a name appeared on the list, anyone could kill that person and claim a bounty.

But Caesar’s ’proscription list’ was the exact opposite.

Caesar had announced the establishment of dozens of committees and recommended hundreds of senators to serve on them.

The list included not only his supporters but also his most vocal critics, such as Metellus, Hortensius, and Cato.

In essence, he had offered virtually every senator in Rome an opportunity to participate in his One-Year Plan.

"What should we do?"

"We simply refuse to participate. Who does Caesar think he is, ordering us around?"

"But if we do that, everyone except us will seize this opportunity."

"That is also true."

Hortensius nodded and chimed in.

"But if we participate in the committees Caesar is leading, doesn’t that essentially mean we agree with his plan?"

"..."

At his words, the other senators exchanged nervous glances.

"But many of the initiatives he announced concern the allied cities and the provinces. If we refuse to participate without a good reason..."

"Our clients in the provinces and Italian towns will not forgive us." Another senator finished the thought.

An awkward silence descended upon the room once more.

"Why don’t we consult Cicero first?"

"Yes, that’s it. Let Cicero test Caesar’s true intentions for us."

Hortensius sighed as he looked at his colleagues. They were all hiding behind excuses, but he knew their true intentions.

Joining the committees meant building their own political influence and expanding their clientelae.

Caesar had handed them the perfect opportunity to do exactly that.

If Hortensius continued to insist on opposition here, resentment would inevitably build against him.

It was time to take a step back.

"Very well. Let us summon Cicero," Hortensius said, rising from his chair. "Let’s toss him into the lion’s den and see what happens."

***

"So everything is ready?"

"Yes, Young Master. The postmen have finished their training, and the mail wagons bound for other cities are ready."

"Excellent work, Felix."

I looked around the interior of the newly renovated domus.

What used to be a two-story patrician residence had been completely transformed.

Where the atrium once was, a long counter now stood, with clerks stationed behind brass grilles. One wall was lined with post office boxes resembling a massive honeycomb, and small desks equipped with quills were provided for writing letters.

Beyond the counter was a new section: the sorting room. Clerks were already busy inside, finalizing their preparations.

This was one of the main post offices recently established in Rome.

"I thought intercity mail would be impossible for a while. I never expected the preparations to be finished this quickly."

I walked past the counter alongside Felix. As I passed, the busy clerks nodded to me.

"It was all thanks to the signal towers," Felix replied. "Since we had already established towers and offices in most of the allied cities, we didn’t have to start entirely from scratch."

"First the towers, and now the postal service. We practically have a total monopoly on the flow of information across Rome and Italy," I said with a chuckle.

The postal service was one of the hundred policies my father had announced. I had already promised it to the public during the Trojan Games.

Back then, I issued commemorative stamps and pledged that citizens would be able to send mail for free using them.

It was a sort of free trial. After all, the very concept of a public postal service was entirely alien to the people of this era.

If one wanted to send a letter, their only options were to hire a private messenger or entrust it to an acquaintance traveling in the right direction.

But once they grew accustomed to the postal system, they would find it impossible to imagine life without it.

Just as using a delivery app makes the idea of calling a restaurant to order food feel burdensome.

"At the very least, same-day delivery will be possible within the city of Rome," Felix continued enthusiastically. "We have completely overhauled the street and district maps for delivery, and we have carefully estimated demand. We have hired more than enough couriers, and dispatching mail to other cities via wagons is also..."

I nodded along as I listened to Felix’s impassioned report.

It had been a long time since I’d seen him this excited. He clearly loved the postal business, which was ironic considering how much he had opposed the idea when I first proposed it.

When I chuckled, Felix tilted his head in confusion.

"Is something wrong?"

"It’s nothing. Let’s get ready to open the doors."

Today was the historic first day of the official postal service.

A day like this called for a proper event.

As I stepped behind the counter and took a seat, the clerks all stared at me in shock.

"I-Is there a problem, sir?"

"Today is a special day, so I thought I would lend a hand today."

With that, I picked up the cancellation stamp resting on the desk.

The work at the counter was not particularly complicated: receive the letters people brought in, then mark their postage stamps as used.

Since we weren’t handling parcels yet, there was no need to weigh anything.

Helping out on the very first day sounded like a fun experience.

However, it didn’t take long for my expectations to be completely shattered.

The moment the post office opened its doors, citizens flooded inside.

While many had come to send letters, more than half the crowd had simply come to gawk at the interior.

"Wait, so if I leave a letter here, you’ll really deliver it to someone else? For just one as?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"I can hardly believe it. To send a letter for such a meager price."

"Sending messages through the towers is open to anyone, but that costs quite a bit of money. One as for a letter... That is incredibly cheap."

The citizens handed over their letters while still looking half-convinced. But the people crowding around my counter had not come to send letters.

"Are you truly Caesar?"

"Yes, I am."

"It is a great honor to meet you in person."

"Do you have a letter you wish to send?"

"Here. I wrote it to my own home."

"You are sending a letter to your own home? Why on earth..."

When I asked, the man scratched his head with a smile.

"I heard that you were personally stamping the letters. I wanted to keep one as a souvenir. Could you perhaps add your signature as well?"

"..."

Thinking about it, it wasn’t that strange. A postage stamp personally postmarked and signed by Caesar on the very first day of the postal service. How much would this be worth in the future?

If I signed a few dozen stamps in advance, my descendants would never have to worry about money for the rest of their lives.

Before I knew it, I wasn’t stamping letters; I was hosting an impromptu autograph session. Eventually, as the crowd besieged my counter, begging for signatures, I had no choice but to flee.

"C-Caesar! Could you just sign my letter, please?! It’s not for me, it’s for my son!"

Dodging the citizens waving their letters frantically, I escaped like a fugitive.

I would definitely have to apologize to the clerks later.

But the most shocking event of the day was yet to come.

***

"Exactly how many stamps did we sell?"

"This is the preliminary count."

"..."

Felix and I stared blankly at the numbers written there. It was a number that defied belief.

"You’re telling me we sold more stamps today than we had sold in total since launching them?"

I had continued selling stamps even after the Trojan Games concluded.

They had sold quite well—hundreds of thousands in all.

Even considering how cheap they were, they generated a fairly handsome profit. It had been a massive help in funding the establishment of the post office.

But this new figure was in an entirely different league.

On the very first day the post office opened, the people who came to buy stamps numbered in the tens of thousands.

They were not just adult men, either, but children, women, and the elderly as well.

"There are far more people buying stamps than there are people actually sending mail..."

Didn’t that seem completely contradictory?

"Numbers do not lie, Young Master. The number of stamps sold far exceeds the number of letters actually dispatched."

"Maybe they’re buying them in advance to use later...No, it doesn’t make sense either."

Even factoring that in, the numbers simply didn’t add up.

I looked at the stamps laid out on the table. Including the original stamp distributed during the Trojan Games, eight designs had gone on sale today.

In truth, the illustrations on the stamps weren’t particularly spectacular.

The Seven Hills of Rome.

The Palatine, Capitoline, Quirinal, Viminal, Esquiline, Caelian, and Aventine hills.

While many other designs were planned, these seven were the ones released today. Each sold for one as, about the price of a cup of cheap wine.

I finally understood why stamp sales were much higher than actual mail volume.

"The citizens of Rome have awakened to a new desire."

"A desire?"

"One of the most primal human instincts. The urge to collect."

Some people collect pretty pebbles, while others collect shoes, books, games, figurines, or even glass bottles.

The Romans of this era were no different.

And there was nothing better suited to stimulate the collector’s urge than postage stamps. They were cheap, accessible to everyone, and just rare enough to feel worth collecting.

"And we might have been the ones who struck the first spark."

"First spark? What do you mean?"

"Look at this."

I held up the stamp depicting the Capitoline Hill.

"Do you understand what I’m saying?"

"Did you cast some sort of sorcery on the paper?"

At Felix’s deadpan, utterly serious question, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

"Rome has seven hills. If you buy the stamp with the Capitoline Hill on it... wouldn’t you naturally want to collect the others as well?"

"That actually makes perfect sense. Owning only one or two would make you feel as if something were missing."

I nodded. Without even realizing it, I had accidentally invented collectible sets.

"Regardless, selling more stamps is hardly bad news for us."

Quite the opposite, in fact. If I could harness this newly awakened collector’s urge among the Romans...

It could provide enormous support for my father and his One-Year Plan.

"What about this, then?" I whispered, looking at Felix. "We sell stamps depicting the gods for two as coins."

"Double the original price? But if we do that, people will accuse us of exploiting the gods for profit," Felix said, waving his hands in alarm. "Even with your father as Pontifex Maximus, wouldn’t that look far too greedy?"

"Of course, we’d be criticized if we pocketed the money ourselves. But what if the funds were used for the gods and citizens of Rome?"

Yes, there was a precedent for this.

In the 21st century, physical mail had largely been rendered obsolete by the internet.

Yet there were still things that sold incredibly well: postage stamps and Christmas seals.

"The additional revenue will all be donated to the temples. And the temples will then use those funds for the benefit of the citizens."

"You mean..." Felix’s eyes went wide. "You intend to turn donations to the gods into stamps people can buy?" Felix muttered in disbelief. "That sounds even more insane."