Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building] Chapter 103 : Show, don’t tell

"I want to know why my request was rejected. I offered the highest donation, did I not?!"

On the Quirinal Hill, the northernmost of Ro’s seven hills, a man was aggressively cornering a group of priests inside the Temple of Flora.

His na was Borysthenes.

He was a freedman who, backed by investnts from nurous patricians, operated several bakeries throughout Ro.

"You approved the requests of n who offered re fractions of what I offered, yet you reject ? On what grounds?!"

He huffed, his face flushed with indignation.

It was completely incomprehensible.

In order to secure advertising rights for the upcoming Floralia festival, he had offered a massive ’donation.’

This new advertising policy proposed by Lucius Caesar was practically a gold mine waiting to be claid.

Whoever struck first would claim the richest vein.

Yet, just days before the festival, the Temple of Flora had rejected his request.

"Are you telling you can’t even give a proper explanation?"

"There have been several unsavory rumors regarding the bakeries you operate, Borysthenes," one of the priests serving Flora, replied calmly.

"First, you employ very few free Roman citizens and rely almost entirely on slaves."

"And that is a cri now?"

"It is not. However, we also heard that you frequently withhold the wages of the few citizens you do employ."

"That is a baseless rumor! Spread by jealous rivals trying to sar my na—!"

"We made inquiries of our own."

The priest cleared his throat before continuing.

"There are also credible rumors that you take in good wheat from citizens, keep it for yourself, and bake their bread with inferior grain instead. While we couldn’t verify every single claim, the sheer number of complaints left us with no choice but to reject your request."

"Why in Jupiter’s na should any of that matter for an advertisent?!" Borysthenes sputtered, his face turning a deep shade of crimson.

The priest’s unexpected accusation caught him completely off guard.

Everything the priest said was true.

Withholding wages from his workers and swapping good flour for inferior grain.

But that was how business was done. That was simply how profit was made.

He had patrician and equestrian investors breathing down his neck, desperate for a return on their money.

To satisfy them and maintain his position, Borysthenes had to make money by any ans necessary.

"I offered a far larger donation than anyone else! You should accept my proposal!"

"I am sorry, but the decision is final."

The priest rely offered a polite bow, showing no sign of yielding.

Borysthenes’s voice grew louder and more frantic.

"I have the backing of Senator Hortensius and Senator Quintilus! Furthermore, several other highly esteed n have invested in my—"

"Invested in your business, you say?"

At the sound of a voice behind him, Borysthenes snapped his head around and flinched.

Gaius Julius Caesar.

The Pontifex Maximus himself was standing right behind him.

Caesar offered a faint smile as he asked,

"So, the Temple of Flora is obligated to accept your request without question? Simply because you possess the support of esteed n?"

"That was not my aning, Pontifex Maximus."

Borysthenes hastily bowed his head.

"It is just that I do not understand this decision. To reject my proposal based on a few malicious gossip... I have lived my entire life faithfully serving the gods. And yet, to be treated like this..."

"The Floralia is a sacred festival dedicated to the goddess Flora," Caesar said calmly.

"How do you think the goddess would feel if her holy festival were tainted by a man surrounded by such shaful rumors?"

"..."

"I can understand your frustration. But there will always be other opportunities."

"I understand, Pontifex Maximus," Borysthenes muttered softly.

He wasn’t stupid enough to keep arguing with none other than Caesar himself.

"Then what must I do to secure approval for the next festival?"

He carefully gauged Caesar’s expression.

If Caesar expected a private bribe, he was more than willing to pay it.

Perhaps his fatal mistake was not offering a bribe alongside his request.

Was Caesar hinting that silver should be placed discreetly in his hand?

But Caesar rely maintained his smile.

"First, you must silence those unsavory rumors and strive to build a better reputation among the citizens of Ro."

"But how..."

"Think of it as following my son’s example. You will find that path more useful than you expect."

After the priests escorted him out, Borysthenes stood on the steps of the temple with a bewildered expression.

"Follow Lucius Caesar’s example...?"

Borysthenes bit his lip hard.

Hire more free citizens, pay their wages on ti, and stop cheating his custors.

It was sheer madness. It would ruin his enterprise.

But if he wanted access to the billboards for the next festival, he had no choice but to commit that madness.

"The world has gone mad."

***

"Look up there, everyone!"

"They’re kites!"

On the opening day of the Floralia festival, the citizens of Ro pointed at the sky in sheer awe.

Hundreds of vibrant kites were dancing in the wind, completely dominating the Roman sky.

And these weren’t just simple toys made of paper.

"Have your own kite made here!"

"Just tell us what colors and designs you want!"

Artists holding sheets of paper, paints, and thin wooden sticks were stationed at every street corner.

They painted the designs the citizens requested onto the paper on the spot, making custom kites in minutes.

Citizens carrying their own kites laughed joyously as they flew them as they made their way to the Forum.

Before long, the sky above the Forum was filled with colorful kites.

It was customary during the Floralia for won to wear vibrant, multicolored dresses reminiscent of blooming flowers.

Clad in their brightest garnts and holding their kites, the massive crowd gathered in the Forum, eagerly awaiting the start of the festival.

The sweet scent of flowers and perfud oils mixed with the hearty aroma of roasted beans and freshly baked bread, cutting through the thick, sweaty heat of the packed crowd.

The shrill notes of the musicians’ flutes, the booming shouts of the rchants, and the ringing laughter of children tangled together in a joyful symphony.

With the ceremonial sacrifices offered by Caesar, the Pontifex Maximus, the festival officially began.

"We offer these sacrifices to the goddess Flora!"

The mont the opening declaration echoed across the Forum, the citizens cut their kite strings at once, letting them fly freely into the wind.

It was a symbolic gesture, an offering released to the heavens for the gods.

As they watched a myriad of colors drift higher and higher, the citizens of Ro murmured in awe.

"It is truly a beautiful sight."

***

"It really is a beautiful sight."

"It certainly is."

Pompeia and I sat together in the arena seating, looking up at the sky.

Watching hundreds of kites take flight simultaneously was a breathtaking spectacle.

"It’s so pretty!"

Julia, sitting right next to us, cheered brightly.

"I bet a few of those up there are the ones I made!"

"If it weren’t for you, none of those kites would even exist, Julia," I said with a laugh.

The very first kite I ever built was ant to be a simple gift for her.

I never could have imagined it would evolve into a military signaling device, let alone a tradition for the whole city.

As the cheers of the crowd washed over the arena, a man clad in a tunic stepped into the center of the arena.

"We dedicate these gas to Jupiter, King of the Gods! And to the goddesses Juno, Minerva, and Flora!"

At the announcer’s booming declaration, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar.

My eardrums were going to burst at this rate.

I glanced behind .

The amphitheater was packed so tightly there was barely room to breathe.

The front rows were strictly reserved for the senators and equites, while the ordinary plebeians filled the tiered seating further back.

Even so, I could see n weaving their way through the massive crowd.

"This bread has been generously dedicated by the Elute Mill! Free bread for every citizen enjoying the festival!"

"Free perfud oil, dedicated by the Salbuso Perfury! Sll divine for your lovers and your families!!"

"Roasted beans! Dedicated by the Pompina Textile Guild! Wear garnts woven by Roman citizens, for Roman citizens!"

n dressed in vibrant, eye-catching tunics road the stands, handing out free food and goods to the eager crowd.

"Making the rchants pay to ’dedicate’ goods. It’s a remarkably unique approach," Pompeia noted, watching the n just as intently as I was.

"And through these dedications, the rchants get to promote their nas directly to the citizens."

"And we secured the money needed for this grand festival. Not to ntion showering the citizens with free gifts," I added with a nod.

I had refined my father’s original idea for this festival.

No advertisents were permitted near the temples or sacrificial altars. Billboards were only permitted along the parade routes, market districts, and inside the arenas.

And the most crucial rule: the advertisents had to be decorous and fitting for Flora’s festival.

They were designed to feel like genuine religious offerings rather than cheap comrcial begging.

After all, one wrong word could easily provoke the wrath of tens of thousands of citizens cheerfully eating the free food being handed out.

"You didn’t just draw money from the rchants," Pompeia observed.

"Then what did I do?"

"You forced them into a fierce competition to win the love of the citizens."

"That was one of my—"

That was when it happened.

At the announcer’s dramatic gesture, a massive, snorting bull was dragged into the center of the arena.

"Now, let us enjoy a light opening amusent before the main gladiatorial bouts begin!"

A boy, looking to be sixteen or seventeen, strode into the center and nimbly vaulted onto the bull’s back.

As the crowd roared, the bull bucked and thrashed wildly, while the boy maintained his balance and perford acrobatic flips and daring tricks.

I watched the spectacle with an amused smirk.

Watching a rodeo in ancient Ro always felt so surreal.

Surprisingly, ancient Roman entertainnt shared many similarities with the spectacles I knew from the twenty-first century.

There were rodeos, choreographed dances, musical performances, and elaborate pantomis.

When the boy finally lost his grip and tumbled into the dirt to thunderous applause, several n rushed in to distract the bull and drive it out of the arena.

Once the sand was cleared, two gladiators marched in, their faces completely obscured by heavy helts.

The helts had no eyeholes; they were fighting completely blind.

The arena official handed them their weapons and shouted the command to begin.

"More to the left! Swing more to the left!"

"Right! No, behind you! Damn it, swing harder! I have twenty sesterces riding on you!"

As the two blind gladiators swung their swords wildly at the empty air, the citizens scread and jeered in excitent.

"Are you having fun, Julia?"

"I usually hate gladiatorial matches, but this one is actually funny." Julia nodded.

Apparently, I was the only one in Ro who found this weird.

This type of brutal combat was an everyday occurrence here.

Gladiatorial combat, first started as funeral rites, existed purely for the amusent of the masses.

Of course, it was a common misconception that all gladiators were slaves.

Many desperate or debt-ridden free citizens willingly signed brutal contracts to fight in the arenas.

In fact, the crowd generally preferred watching free citizens fight over slaves.

There were even so senators or nobles who wanted to fight as gladiators from ti to ti.

But no matter how long I lived in Ro, I just couldn’t stomach the sheer brutality of it.

"Are you okay, Lucius?"

"Yes, it’s nothing."

Pompeia looked at for a mont before speaking.

"They say the Forum was originally used as a burial ground. Perhaps the spirits of the dead are watching the gas with us right now."

"Then I suppose the gladiators’ blood serves as an offering to them."

Well, gladiatorial combat had begun as a funerary blood offering.

Still, I vastly preferred the plays.

Co to think of it, I heard one of the plays scheduled for later was a dramatized retelling of my bandit campaign.

Brutus and Pompeia’s propaganda pieces really did hit the mainstream.

As I was lost in thought, soone approached from behind.

"Young master."

"What is it, Felix?"

I turned to see Felix leaning in close. He lowered his voice to whisper.

"We have a little problem."

"A problem?"

"The public executions are supposed to begin soon. But the beasts aediles prepared for the executions... they were all found dead in their cages this morning. So sickness must have spread through the cages. We are searching all Ro for more beasts, but we won’t find enough in ti."

"So?"

"So?!"

Felix stared at like I had lost my mind.

"The public executions are the most eagerly awaited spectacles of the day! And now the whole event is ruined!"

"And?" I asked again, laughing softly.

Tossing condemned prisoners into an arena to be torn apart by hungry beasts was a ti-honored Roman tradition.

In Ro, dying a painless death was considered a luxury.

"Use ropes and hang them. There, problem solved."

"But the crowd won’t find that nearly as entertaining!"

Felix clutched at his chest.

"If the crowd turns ugly, this entire festival could end in a riot! This was the grand event ant to—"

"I understand what you an," I sighed.

Flora was the goddess of flowers and spring abundance.

Why the hell do we need a bloody spectacle of prisoners being ripped apart to honor the goddess of flowers?

Still, improvising an entirely new event on the spot was going to be tricky.

I scanned the arena.

The crowd was roaring with feverish excitent.

The front rows were packed with senators and... a few very familiar faces.

"Hit him harder! Swing lower! To the right!"

Mark Antony was standing up, waving his arms and shouting himself hoarse at the blind gladiators.

Surrounding him were the allied cavalry officers.

They were the n who had ridden under my command during the bandit campaign.

I had personally invited them to Ro as guests of honor for this festival.

"The allied cavalryn I invited... they all brought their horses with them, didn’t they?"

"Yes, I believe they did." Felix nodded, looking confused.

"But why do you ask, sir?"

"Because I just had an idea. Go fetch Antony and the allied cavalryn for ."

"What exactly are you planning, young master?" Felix asked, crossing his arms.

"Isn’t it obvious?"

The citizens of Ro had already read the thrilling, dramatized accounts of how I wiped out the bandits.

Which ant it was exactly the sort of spectacle the crowd wanted.

At the sa ti, it would strengthen the relationship between Ro and the allied cities.

"Let’s show Ro how we hunted down the bandits."