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

Chapter 144: Chapter 144 : New Trend

Spurius considered himself a truly fortunate man.

After serving as an engineer in Pompey’s eastern campaigns, he returned to Rome and began working for Lucius Caesar.

He then became the very first beneficiary of the newly established patent system, earning an enormous sum of money—more than enough to quit working and enjoy a leisurely retirement in the countryside.

Yet he chose to remain in Lucius’s service.

Loyalty to Lucius played a part, but his burning ambition as an engineer was the far greater driving force.

And above all else, he had a new family to provide for.

"Who recorded these measurements? There are errors all over the place."

"It seems there was a mistake. I will correct them and draw up a new set of plans immediately."

"Do you not realize that a single mistake could bring the entire production line to a halt? I want it corrected before the day is out."

"Yes, sir..."

While Vitruvius was the nominal head of the technical school, he often locked himself away in his office, entirely engrossed in developing new technologies.

Consequently, the lion’s share of the actual administrative and supervisory duties fell to Spurius.

True to his experience serving in the legions, he had quickly built a reputation as a strict, meticulous, and uncompromising supervisor. However, this was hardly a blessing for the staff working under him.

"How does he manage to oversee all of this by himself?"

"I have no idea. I heard he even develops new products in his spare time."

"If you include the streetlights, he’s apparently registered over twenty patents already."

"Twenty?"

Thoroughly scolded by Spurius, the staff sighed as they shuffled out of his office.

Many initially vented their frustrations, feeling deeply wronged, but they were inevitably forced to admit that Spurius was always right.

"Why is it that the most capable men always have the most wretched tempers?"

"I heard the men in the Strategy Office are barely surviving under Felix too. I suppose you need a nasty personality to rise quickly around here."

But being a strict supervisor was not all Spurius did with his day.

"Welcome, Spurius. We were just waiting for you."

"Sorry I’m late. Work piled up again today. Well then, shall we begin?"

There was one building Spurius regularly visited after work: the Collegium Fabrum, the guild of blacksmiths and craftsmen.

"Is everyone ready to roll the dice?"

***

The countless collegia operating in Rome were entirely autonomous. While nearly all of them collected dues and provided funeral funds when a member died, their internal operations and structures varied wildly.

Some held annual elections for their chairman, mimicking the Roman political system, while others were led for years by a single charismatic figure.

Bakers, fullers, craftsmen, carpenters, rag merchants, prostitutes, flute players—if a profession existed in Rome, a collegium existed alongside it.

"Did everyone see the latest announcement from the Collegium Alliance?"

"It seems Lucius Caesar wishes to establish a more formal line of communication. We should choose a secretary before then."

"Let’s make that our primary agenda for today’s meeting."

Spurius served as the chairman of this particular collegium, which had fifty members. It was just one of the many collegia fabrum scattered across Rome.

Furthermore, many of its members were also in Lucius’s employ, just like Spurius.

"By the way, did you all hear the news? It seems the temples have been competing to announce new charitable measures lately."

"Indeed. It is wonderful news for ordinary citizens like us."

Gathered after work, they chatted amiably while playing dice, just as they always did.

"The temples are competing against each other..." Spurius muttered, rolling the dice in his hand. "Perhaps we can try something similar."

"Soemthing similar?"

"It’s just an idea that came to me..."

Spurius explained his idea. Just like the temples, the collegia were also engaged in fierce competition.

There were countless guilds in Rome, divided not only by profession but also by region, meaning multiple guilds often represented the exact same trade.

They had a long history of bickering and competing over members and operational methods.

"We do the same thing the temples are doing. We compete."

***

It was in the dead of night that Spurius and his fellow collegium members erected a massive wooden board in the Forum.

"Hurry! Let’s get this moved quickly!"

"One! Two! One! Two!"

As they grunted and hauled the heavy board, the drivers of the wagon drivers passing through the Forum watched them with curious eyes.

"Look over there."

"What are they setting up now?"

"It might be another one of Caesar’s schemes."

Amidst the drivers’ chatter, the enormous wooden board was finally raised. Plastered with sheets of paper, the board looked remarkably similar to the temple leaderboard standing nearby.

However, the names posted on the board were not those of temples and their priests. Instead, the board was densely packed with the names of Rome’s prominent collegia.

And next to each name was a blank column.

Save for one.

Only Spurius’s collegium had anything written beside its name.

***

"Well, I certainly didn’t see this coming."

I looked out at the massive crowd gathered in the forum. Through the sea of people who had come to hear the town criers’ morning announcements, two massive wooden boards stood tall.

One was the leaderboard I had erected to spur the temples into competition. The other was...

"Spurius set that up?"

"Yes, it was erected by the collegium Spurius leads."

I raised my telescope and peered at the board. There were simply too many people for me to even try to get closer.

If I went down there, the crowd would swarm me instantly anyway.

The layout of the sheets attached to the board was nearly identical to mine. However, instead of temples, the names of collegia were listed.

Beside each name was either a blank space or a written entry.

"Pledged to donate two thousand sesterces to the Temple of Vulcan."

Vulcan was the Roman counterpart of the Greek god Hephaestus. For a craftsmen’s collegium led by Spurius, it was a fitting donation.

"They are not just donating money," Felix noted from beside me. "Look a bit further down, Young Master."

"Further down..."

As I adjusted the telescope slightly, the text on the board came into focus, though it was still blurry. It wasn’t just Spurius’s collegium.

There was the entries written beside the names of other collegia as well. In fact, even now, people were climbing ladders to scrawl new entries onto the board.

I carefully read the text etched next to the names.

"The bakers have pledged to provide free bread for the poor, and another guild is offering to construct a shrine free of charge."

"At least the prostitutes’ guild hasn’t written anything yet. That is a relief," Felix chuckled. "If they had pledged to provide free services to the temples and their worshippers, it would have caused an uproar."

"That sounds far too plausible, which makes it terrifying. The worshippers of Bacchus would absolutely come up with something like that."

I checked the board again.

To think the collegia had begun competing against one another just like the temples.

And no one had forced them into it.

"Why are they competing so fiercely? It’s not like there’s any benefit for them from this."

"Didn’t the collegia begin mobilizing in earnest when we launched the postal service?"

"They did."

I nodded. That was, after all, one of the primary reasons I had launched the postal service in the first place: to connect the dozens, even hundreds, of isolated collegia scattered across Rome.

Through this, I could keep tabs on practically every guild in Rome, gather street intelligence, and simultaneously gauge public sentiment.

The postal service was the glue binding them all together.

"The activities of the collegia, which used to be completely isolated and local, had now been thrust into the public eye. Naturally, a new trend has emerged as a result."

"A new trend..."

I nodded.

That was a plausible explanation.

The Twelve Tables recognized the right to form private associations, provided they did not violate public law.

While Rome had occasionally restricted certain associations, the vast majority of ordinary citizens still participated in their respective collegia.

Naturally, the deities venerated by the collegia varied depending on their professions.

The fact that they had launched into a donation competition meant...

Had they essentially invented a primitive form of crowdfunding? A massive fundraising drive where collegia funneled donations to their patron temples.

I certainly hadn’t anticipated this when I set up the leaderboard in the forum.

"Young Master?"

"Send a messenger to my father," I said.

What would happen if the collegia engaged in an all-out donation war?

Predicting the outcome wasn’t particularly difficult. If properly guided, it could become a massive wave of positive change for Rome.

If left unchecked, it could easily fester into corruption and social unrest.

"We need to step in and ensure the temples don’t squander that money on nonsense."

"Understood," Felix replied. "By the way, can you see who is currently at the top of the leaderboard?"

"The top spot?"

"The collegium that has announced the largest sum of donations and charitable activities."

I slowly scanned the list through my telescope. And the collegium with the largest donation recorded was...

Wait, isn’t that my fan club?!

***

"Yes, this should be sufficient for now."

Cicero murmured as he reviewed the documents Tiro handed him.

He sat alone in the atrium, meticulously inspecting the paperwork.

Ever since he had publicly cast himself as Caesar’s opponent, a steady stream of senators had been sending him letters.

Normally, senators preferred to visit in person to chat, but recently, they had begun exchanging letters to maintain secrecy.

Some used the postal service established by Lucius Caesar, but the vast majority still preferred the traditional method of dispatching their own private messengers or slaves.

No one fully trusted a postal service run by Caesar’s son. No matter how securely a letter was sealed, if one were so inclined, they could secretly open it, read the contents, and reseal it without a trace.

"Far more senators support me than I anticipated." Cicero smiled in satisfaction.

When he had first proposed this charade, he had been racked with anxiety.

His nerves had been so frayed he had suffered from insomnia and severe indigestion.

But as Caesar actively cooperated with his plan, the situation had rapidly stabilized.

Whenever Caesar announced a new initiative, Cicero would vehemently oppose it on the Senate floor.

However, maintaining the exact right level of opposition was a delicate tightrope walk.

He could not be too extreme, nor could he appear too accommodating. He had to keep Caesar appropriately in check while simultaneously retaining the steadfast support of the Optimate senators.

"To think I would be playing a part in Caesar’s political theater. You truly never know what life has in store for you."

"No one else could have pulled it off, master."

"I tell you this every time, Tiro, but flattery will not add a single coin to your allowance." Cicero chuckled. "I hear a new board was erected in the forum?"

"Yes. It seems Caesar is now moving to mobilize the collegia in earnest."

"First the temples, and now the collegia..." Cicero muttered, listening to Tiro’s explanation.

Could it be... had Caesar and his son planned even his rise as the leader of the opposition?

The sudden thought sent a chill down Cicero’s spine, making him shudder.

How was he supposed to fight back this time?

From the temples announcing welfare policies for the citizens, to the collegia stepping up to financially back those temples.

Caesar as consul, the Senate participating in the One-Year Plan, the temples, and now the citizens and the collegia.

Every major force in Rome was moving together, like the limbs of a single colossal organism influencing and transforming one another.

What role was he supposed to play in all of this?

"We can no longer survive on opposition alone. We must counter them with policies of our own."

That was the only future left for the Optimates.