Sparta: Many childrens, Many Blessings, Starting from the Gladiator Chapter 47 47

"Reasonable orders" — this phrase is used beautifully, vague and blurry, anything can be stuffed into it.

"Any problem?"

Gracchus asked, his fingers lightly tapping the desk.

Marcus raised his head: "Obey all reasonable orders… how is this 'reasonable' defined?"

"I define it."

Gracchus said indifferently. "If you think it's unreasonable, you can raise it. But the final decision is mine."

"What if we refuse to sign?"

"Then you can leave."

Gracchus leaned back. "Once you walk out this door, your free status remains valid. But what happens after that, I can't guarantee. Batiatus's remaining followers, Nodis's allies, and those nobles who don't like you… Capua is not a big city. It's really not difficult to kill three forr gladiators."

A gentle threat.

Marcus stared at the sheepskin scroll, his mind turning rapidly.

Signing it ant tying himself to Gracchus's chariot.

Not signing?

Stepping out the door might an a dead end.

"I'll sign."

He picked up the quill on the desk, dipped it in ink, and signed his na at the bottom of the sheepskin scroll — Marcus.

The Latin letters were a bit crooked, but at least readable.

Octavius and Saxa exchanged a glance and also picked up the quill to sign.

Gracchus nodded with satisfaction, collected the sheepskin scrolls, and locked them back in the drawer.

"Very good. Now, we are family."

He walked out from behind the desk and paced to the window, hands behind his back as he looked at the courtyard outside.

"Marcus, do you know why I chose you?"

"Because I won the performance match?"

"Not entirely."

Gracchus turned around. "Because you are smart. In the arena, you relied not only on brute force but also on your brain. At the banquet, you knew how to seize the opportunity and force Batiatus to show his flaws. I need smart people."

He walked back to the desk, pulled out a map from another drawer, and "whoosh" spread it open.

It was a map of Capua, drawn extrely detailed, marking every district, major buildings, and even so underground passages.

"Batiatus has fallen, but his businesses remain."

Gracchus pointed at several locations on the map. "The gladiator training camp, the slave market, and his warehouses at the port. These are now ownerless."

Marcus stared at the map: "You want them?"

"I want order."

Gracchus said, his finger lightly tracing across the map. "I do not allow the underworld to beco chaotic. Batiatus's position needs soone to take over, but it cannot be another Batiatus."

He looked at Marcus, his eyes slightly narrowed: "I want you to take over his businesses."

Marcus was stunned.

"?"

"Yes, you."

Gracchus said firmly. "You have a gladiator background and can hold the field. You are smart enough to manage the businesses. Most importantly — you are my man."

He drew a circle on the map: "The training camp, slave market, warehouses — these legitimate businesses, I will arrange people to help you manage. What you need to do is control the underground part — gladiators, enforcers, intelligence network. I want every dirty thing in Capua to be under my control."

Marcus understood.

What Gracchus wanted was not a guard, but a blade, an eye, a hand reaching into the underworld.

"What do I get?"

Marcus asked directly.

"Besides what is written in the contract, you can also take twenty percent of the profits from these businesses."

Gracchus held up two fingers. "Additionally, you can build your own team — the gladiators you brought can all be used. Weapons, funds, legal status — I will provide."

The conditions were so generous they made one's heart uneasy.

"Why ?"

Marcus asked again. "You have more candidates, more reliable ones."

"Because they are too reliable."

Gracchus smiled, with a hint of sarcasm in his smile. "Reliable to the point… they may have their own little thoughts. But you, Marcus, you have no roots, no family. Except for , you have nowhere to go. People like you are the most 'reliable'."

He spoke bluntly and cruelly.

Marcus fell silent.

"I'll give you three days to consider."

Gracchus waved his hand. "Give your answer in three days. During these three days, you can move freely, get familiar with Capua. The money has already been sent to your residence — twenty denarii each, as advance salary."

He made a gesture to see them off.

The steward pushed open the door, ready to lead them out.

At the door, Gracchus suddenly spoke again.

"By the way, Marcus."

Marcus turned back.

"That little healer of yours, Mira."

Gracchus spoke as if he had just rembered. "My wife likes her very much and has kept her in the mansion for a few days. Don't worry, she is very safe."

Marcus's eyes sharpened.

Mira had been taken hostage.

Marcus felt turmoil in his heart, but his face remained expressionless: "Thank you, Madam, for taking care of her."

After leaving the study and walking through the long corridor back to the front courtyard.

The sunlight was so bright it hurt the eyes.

As soon as they stepped out the main gate, Saxa cursed in a low voice: "That old fox, he really knows how to calculate."

Octavius frowned so hard it could crush a fly: "He took Mira hostage."

"I know."

Marcus said, his voice calm. "Let's go back first and talk."

The three quickly walked back to last night's residence.

Slaves were already cleaning the house. When they saw them return, they respectfully bowed and quietly withdrew.

On the table in the living room, there were indeed three bulging money bags.

Marcus opened one. Inside were twenty shiny new denarii, so new they could reflect a person's face.

"Really generous with his money."

Saxa grabbed her money bag and weighed it in her hand. "This should be enough for an ordinary family to live for a year, right?"

"Blood money."

Octavius said gloomily.

The three sat around the table. The atmosphere was a bit heavy.

"What do we do now?"

Saxa put her legs up on the table. "Really beco that old fox's dog?"

"Temporarily, yes."

Marcus rubbed his brow. "Mira is in his hands. We have no choice."

"So we just accept it?"

"No."

Marcus shook his head. "But we have to take it slow. First establish a foothold, accumulate strength, and wait for an opportunity."

"What opportunity?"

"An opportunity to break free from control."

Marcus lowered his voice. "But not now. Right now we need his protection, we need money, we need legal status."

He paused and looked at the two of them: "What do you think? If you want to leave, there is still a chance now. Take the money and leave Capua. You can go anywhere."

Octavius shook his head without thinking: "I'm with you."

Saxa grinned: "I never miss out on exciting things."

"Good."

Marcus nodded. "Then we accept this invitation. But rember, our loyalty is to each other, not to Gracchus. At any ti, survival cos first."

The three reached out and bumped fists.

In the next two days, Marcus and the others started wandering around Capua.

Using the money Gracchus gave them, they changed into better clothes, ate decent food, and even went to the public bathhouse — a real Roman bathhouse with hot pools, cold pools, steam rooms, and slaves giving massages.

Saxa humd comfortably. Octavius looked uncomfortable the whole ti, keeping a straight face.

Marcus wasn't idle. He spent more ti on "investigation."

He went to Batiatus's training camp — now sealed off, with a Senate notice posted at the door and red wax seals looking glaring.

He went to the slave market and looked at those people chained in iron, price tags hanging around their necks, feeling uneasy in his heart.

He also went to the port warehouse district, slling the salty sea breeze and watching ships of all sizes coming and going.

Capua was bigger, more complicated, and deeper than he imagined.

On the afternoon of the third day, Marcus went alone to Gracchus's mansion.

This ti it was not to see Gracchus, but to see Ilithyia.

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