Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building] Chapter 94 : Sons of Masters

Ever since the towers were erected to connect Ostia and Ro, the number of rchants and wagons traveling between the two cities had surged.

"Do you think we’ll make it on ti today?"

"If we push the horses, we won’t be late."

While the bulk of Ro’s grain supply was transported via the river, countless other goods had to be hauled overland by wagons.

"Still, having these towers around makes life so much easier. You can send a ssage and get an answer the very sa day."

"Exactly. The mont a ship docks at Ostia, the orders co flying in. It’s brilliant."

"With the Floralia festival coming up, we’ve been getting a massive influx of floral orders, too."

The rchants chatted idly, snapping their reins as they bounced along the paved road.

But soon, sothing new caught their eye.

"What in Jupiter’s na is that?"

"I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it."

The rchants all stared up at the nearest signal tower.

Normally, the sheer height and the moving chanical arms of the towers were enough to draw the gaze of passersby.

But today, it wasn’t the signaling chanism that caught their attention. It was a massive wooden panel affixed to the base of the tower, covered by large sheets of paper.

A vibrant illustration of a wagon was painted on the paper, accompanied by bold text.

"What does it say?"

"Let’s see... ’Toxaris’s Wagon Shop: Sturdier and more affordable than any competitor. Four monthly paynts available to approved buyers. Free repairs for any breakdowns within six months of purchase.’ What?"

"Is Caesar in the wagon-selling business now?"

"No, I’ve heard of Toxaris. He’s one of the most famous wagon manufacturers in Ro."

"Then why is his na plastered on a tower?"

"I have no idea."

The rchants exchanged bewildered looks as their wagons rolled past the billboard.

Soon enough, the next tower lood on the horizon.

"’Falernum and Chios Wine. A special wine for your special day...’ And there’s a painting of a gorgeous woman holding a goblet."

"A woman?!"

As more and more wagons slowed down to gawk at the billboard, the road began to clog with wagons.

"Hey! You up front! Keep moving!"

Even as they shouted at each other, the rchants couldn’t help but crane their necks to read every single billboard attached to the towers, especially the ones depicting won.

"You know... there’s so serious coin to be made doing that."

***

"I never thought I’d end up doing copywriting in this era, of all places."

I let out a heavy sigh and dipped my quill into the inkwell.

I knew I had to go all-out to secure Father’s consular election, but I didn’t expect to be drafting ad copy.

I honestly thought I had left that corporate life behind when I reincarnated.

Still, had there always been this many rchants sponsoring the Veterans’ Fund?

The rchants I selected for this "free trial" advertising campaign were exclusively those who regularly donated to the Fund.

Soon enough, the entire city would realize just how great a reward that sponsorship actually was.

But seriously, there were way too many of them.

If I had known the list was this long, I never would have volunteered to design the ads myself.

"If you’re tired, I can take over for you, young master."

Felix walked into the office, carrying a fresh cup of wine.

"You usually delegate everything to anyway. Why insist on handling this yourself?"

"It’s not that I don’t trust you, Felix. But this is completely uncharted territory for you."

I shrugged, massaging my cramped fingers.

Felix was an administrative genius, but advertising was an entirely different field.

No one in this era truly understood the chanics of mass marketing or the psychological triggers required to sell a brand.

To maximize the impact, I needed to personally apply the marketing theories and copywriting techniques I had learnt in my past life.

"And I suppose you are well-versed in this new field, young master?"

"You could say that."

Though I really didn’t plan on using those skills ever again.

"I must admit, it’s genuinely terrifying," Felix said, carefully setting the wine cup on my desk.

"Terrifying? What is?"

"Did you plan all of this from the very beginning when you first proposed the signal towers? You used the promise of safety to build the towers to Ostia, leveraged that to pull the senators and the allied cities to your side, used them to eradicate the bandits, and now... you’re turning the towers into a major source of inco?"

"..."

When you lay it out like that, I really do sound like political mastermind playing 4D chess.

I built the towers and won the election, slapped politicians’ nas on them to buy their support, rallied allied cavalry to secure the roads, and was now plastering the structures with billboards to rake in profits while simultaneously luring the rchants into funding the festival.

Who could have possibly predicted that a few wooden towers could accomplish so much?

Truth be told, I’d just been winging it and improvising half the ti.

But there was no reason to shatter Felix’s illusion.

I maintained a perfectly stoic, calculating expression and gave a slight nod.

Let him think I was a genius.

I picked up the wine cup Felix brought and turned my attention back to the paper.

"Thanks for the wine. But why are you just standing there staring at ?"

"It’s just been a very long ti since I’ve seen you struggle this much with your own two hands," Felix replied with an innocent expression.

"I was rely waiting to see if you required further assistance."

"You just want to stand there and enjoy watching suffer, don’t you?"

I put my quill down and leaned back in my chair.

"Now that you ntion it, regarding that ’postal service’ idea I brought up earlier... I’ve been thinking about the logistics of allowing all Roman citizens to exchange letters—"

"Ah! My apologies, young master! I just rembered an urgent staff eting! I’ll return as soon as possible!"

"Yeah, you can take your ti."

I burst into laughter as I watched Felix sprint out of the office.

He really was like an open book.

Alright, back to the ad copy.

If I could just finish these, I could finally rest for a while.

But about half an hour later, an unexpected guest arrived at my office.

"You want to help ?"

"Indeed. I wish to assist with the grand festival you and your father are organizing."

The young man offered a confident smile before continuing.

"Furthermore, I would like to officially place an advertisent through your new venture."

"Now that is an interesting proposal."

I carefully observed the man standing before .

Publius Licinius Crassus.

The son of Marcus Licinius Crassus, the wealthiest man in Ro.

He grinned as he clasped my hand.

"I have been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you like this, Caesar."

***

Publius Crassus was a man who left quite a mark in Roman history.

He served as a highly capable cavalry commander under my father during the Gallic Wars and earned his deep trust.

However, his life was cut tragically short during the Parthian campaign.

He died fighting alongside his father, and the elder Crassus was subsequently captured and executed by the Parthians.

The Battle of Carrhae was rembered as one of the most catastrophic and humiliating defeats in Roman history.

Though, to be fair, that absolute disaster was entirely his father’s fault, not his.

"My father has taken quite an interest in you. He talks about you from dawn until dusk almost every day.."

I nearly choked on my wine.

Phrased like that, it sounds like he has so kind of creepy, obsessive crush.

"Well, it’s only natural. Has anyone in the history of the Republic launched so many successful enterprises in such a short span of ti?"

"I still have a long way to go before I can even dream of comparing myself to your father."

"Ah, you just need to serve under a Dictator and execute a few hundred traitors. That usually builds up the treasury quite nicely," Publius chuckled dryly.

He wasn’t wrong. Crassus built his unimaginable fortune serving under the dictator Sulla, primarily through extortion, murder, and seizing the confiscated assets of political enemies.

"You ntioned you wanted to commission an advertisent?"

"Yes. After all, your father and mine have ford a firm alliance, haven’t they? That ans our families are practically on the sa ship—insurance included, of course."

Publius gestured, and a slave standing behind him stepped forward, handing a rolled piece of parchnt.

"Please, read it."

"This is... fascinating."

I genuinely didn’t expect a proposal like this.

I read through the detailed outline on the parchnt, my eyebrows raising higher with every line.

"You want to formally invite the citizens of the allied cities to Ro for the Floralia?"

"Exactly. You won the support of the allied cities through your recent campaign. The roads are safer than they have been in decades. What better way to celebrate this achievent than by inviting our Italian brethren to Ro for a grand festival?"

"And the Crassus family will provide the necessary lodging for all of them."

Now this was brilliant.

Was Crassus seriously trying to invent the hotel industry?

It wasn’t as if the concept of lodging didn’t exist in Ro.

But the current inns were mostly small, privately run, and frankly, filthy.

Wealthy elites from the allied cities simply stayed at the sprawling estates of their Roman political patrons.

The average citizen, however, was forced to pay exorbitant prices to sleep in unhygienic, dangerous taverns.

"Your father owns a great deal of property in Ro. This could evolve into a profitable new business."

"And it’s all thanks to you. Didn’t you bring in citizens from Ostia during the last election?" Publius shrugged.

"Now that the roads are safe, the flow of travelers into Ro will surge. If we can provide them with clean, affordable, and secure lodging, everyone stands to benefit."

"I completely agree."

I nodded slowly.

You really couldn’t underestimate Crassus.

To spot an entirely new market opportunity this quickly... his business instincts were terrifying.

But it was a highly beneficial proposal for as well.

If tens of thousands of elites from outside Ro flooded into the city, the festival would be a monuntal success.

And by extension, it would guarantee Father’s victory in the consular election.

"I will draft letters to the allied cities imdiately. With your father’s backing, this festival will be sothing Ro will never forget."

"...I am glad to hear it. Ah, and before I forget, my father had a personal ssage he wished to convey to you."

A ssage from Crassus?

Publius leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

"It is truly a sha that the marriage alliance between our two houses did not co to fruition. However... my father believes the opportunity has not entirely vanished."

Instead of answering, I simply stared at Publius.

I knew exactly what he was getting at.

He was right. Just because I cented my engagent to Pompeia didn’t an a marriage alliance with the Crassus family was off the table.

There was still one eligible mber of my family left.

My sister, Julia.

Is Publius saying he wants to marry Julia?

The age gap was quite significant, though.

Then again, in the original tiline, Pompey married Julia, and he was old enough to be her father.

"I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer to that. The decision lies entirely with my father, the paterfamilias."

"Of course. I believe my father was rely curious about your personal stance on the matter."

Publius shrugged again.

I observed him in silence for a mont.

He had a proud, confident expression. His tone was commanding, and he spoke and directed his slaves without a shred of hesitation.

Historical texts praised him as an exceptionally capable military commander.

Looking at him now, I could easily see why he earned that reputation.

But Julia was my little sister.

Which ant, as her older brother, it was my sacred duty to evaluate any potential suitors.

"Then, how would you feel about working with to prepare for this festival?"

Seeing Publius’s eyes widen in slight surprise, I added, "I believe we have a great deal we could learn from one another."

***

"So, how much did your revenue jump?"

"It doubled. I’m not joking, it doubled in just two days!"

"Are you lying to ? How in Jupiter’s na could sales spike that fast?!"

"Don’t even ask. My shop is so packed with custors I can barely breathe..."

It had only been a few days since the first billboard ads were installed on the signal towers.

Yet, every single rchant in Ro was already talking about them.

"Wait, so Caesar just put your brand on a giant wooden board for free?"

"Yes! He gave free space to everyone who sponsors the Veterans’ Fund."

"Damn it! If I had known this would happen, I would have donated months ago!"

The effectiveness of the tower billboards was undeniable.

The shops featured in the ads saw unprecedented surges in foot traffic, while those left out watch their earnings stagnate or fall.

Naturally, the rchants scrambled to take action.

"The tower ads are only seen by people traveling on the roads. Can you guess how many people will see an ad during the Floralia festival?!"

"I can’t even imagine it."

"Then we just have to buy our own space for the festival!"

"The aediles already announced that advertising rights will be strictly limited to official festival sponsors!"

"We need to buy those rights before they run out!"

"My guild will sponsor the festival for two hundred thousand sesterces!"

"We bid three hundred thousand! No, five hundred thousand!"

From small-ti blacksmiths and food stall owners to massive guilds, the entire Roman market plunged into a competitive bidding war.

And the man tasked with managing this tidal wave of cash was Felix.

"This many rchants applied for sponsorships?"

"Yes, sir. Given the overwhelming demand, I believe we should switch to an auction. That way, we can secure the highest price possible for the ad spaces."

"I suppose you’re right."

Felix muttered, his eyes scanning the endless rows of figures written on the ledgers.

The amounts the rchants were bidding had already reached unbelievable levels.

"But sothing isn’t right. These bids... they’re too high. Far too high."

"Isn’t that a good thing, sir? The more sponsorship money we secure, the grander the festival we can throw. Caesar will be thrilled."

"Perhaps. But..."

Felix suddenly stood up and walked over to a locked docunt chest.

He quickly rummaged through the organized stacks of paper before pulling out a few specific sheets.

His eyes darted back and forth between the new bids and the old docunts.

"Sir? Is sothing wrong?"

"Call an ergency eting imdiately."

Felix’s face hardened, the color draining slightly from his cheeks.

"I have sothing to check right now."