Sparta: Many childrens, Many Blessings, Starting from the Gladiator Chapter 52 52

Back at the training ground, Marcus told everyone the situation exactly as it was.

"So, this mission is considered half completed?"

Gisco scratched his head and asked.

"Considered completed."

Marcus said. "The goods were recovered, so we can give an explanation to Gracchus's side. As for the pirates… that's a long-term matter."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone: "But this incident has given us a reminder — the water in Capua is deep. There are nobles, rchants, thugs, and pirates. If we want to survive in the cracks, we must be faster, more ruthless, and smarter."

"What do we do next?"

Drusus asked.

"Next, do three things."

Marcus held up three fingers. "First, continue training and solidify our skills. Second, expand the intelligence network. Docks, markets, taverns — we need our eyes everywhere. Third…"

He looked at Saxa: "You and I need to make a trip to Sicily."

"To find that Leta?"

Saxa raised an eyebrow.

"No, to talk business."

Marcus said. "The pirates are short on money. We have channels. If we can cooperate, the docks will be our territory in the future."

"Isn't that too risky?"

Octavius said in his deep, muffled voice.

"If we don't take risks, how can we achieve anything?"

Marcus said. "But this matter is not urgent. We need to plan for the long term and first do the things in front of us well."

In the following days, "Shadow" officially began to operate.

The training ground was transford into a proper base.

The sand pit was leveled and smoothed. The weapon warehouse was stocked with quite a few new items. The cells were converted into clean dormitories.

Drusus managed the accounts carefully, recording every expense clearly.

Amir's intelligence network slowly spread out. New information ca back every day.

Marcus frequently went to Gracchus's mansion — reporting progress, receiving new tasks, and asking for funds along the way.

Gracchus was quite satisfied with his efficiency and gave him greater and greater authority.

Patrols in the dock area, managent of the underground market, and even the transportation of so "special goods" were gradually handed over to "Shadow."

Money also increased more and more.

Marcus distributed most of the money to his brothers and saved a small portion as ergency funds.

He himself only took the sa share as everyone else — ten denarii per month.

This approach earned the respect of everyone.

On the evening of the seventh day, Marcus was alone in the office — the forr study of Batiatus, now his — flipping through the intelligence summary sent by Amir.

The door "creaked" open.

Lucretia walked in.

She was wearing a simple gray long dress, her hair simply tied in a bun at the back of her head, with no makeup on her face. She looked much younger and more real than when she was by Batiatus's side.

"I heard you're short of an accountant here?"

She asked softly.

Marcus raised his head and looked at her.

After Batiatus fell, Lucretia had disappeared for a while.

Marcus thought she had left Capua, but unexpectedly…

"How did you find this place?"

"Capua isn't that big."

Lucretia walked to the desk. "Besides, the na 'Shadow' has already spread. Forr gladiators, Lord Gracchus's new favorite, the actual controller of the dock area… You are a big shot now, Marcus."

"What big shot? Just earning a living."

Marcus said. "You… are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

Lucretia smiled, with a bit of bitterness in her smile. "After Batiatus was arrested, I sold so jewelry and rented a small house. I originally wanted to leave Capua, but…"

She paused. "I heard you were here, so I ca to see."

She looked straight into Marcus's eyes: "You said that if you won, you would take away. Does that… still count?"

Marcus was silent for a long ti.

"It counts."

He finally said. "But following is not about enjoying happiness. It's about taking risks, fighting desperately, and not knowing which day you might lose your head."

"I know."

Lucretia said. "But I would rather take risks than live my previous life again — acting every day, calculating every day, waiting every day to be discarded like a used piece."

She walked to the window and looked at the gladiators training outside in the training ground.

The light from the torches flickered on her face.

"This place… has quite a lot of vitality."

She said softly. "Much better than Batiatus's dead and lifeless training ground."

Marcus looked at her thin back and felt complicated emotions surge in his heart.

This woman had helped him and also used him.

But now, she had nothing left, only the promise he had once made.

"What can you do?"

"Manage accounts, socialize, collect intelligence."

Lucretia turned around. "I was Batiatus's wife for so many years. I know how nobles think, how rchants calculate. These, you should be able to use."

They were indeed useful.

What Marcus lacked now was soone who could navigate the upper society.

"You can stay."

"But the rules are the sa: no betrayal, no harming the innocent, obey my orders."

"I agree."

"Also…"

Marcus paused. "You and Mira…"

"I know."

Lucretia interrupted him. "I won't cause trouble. As long as I have a place to stay, I'm willing to do anything."

Marcus nodded: "Drusus is managing the accounts. Go help him, and along the way… collect intelligence from the noble circle. Who is close to Gracchus, who is speaking badly about him behind his back, who might have handles — I want to know all of it."

"Understood."

After Lucretia left, Marcus continued flipping through the intelligence.

One piece of information caught his attention.

"'Sea Snake' pirate leader Leta from Sicily may visit Capua soon… secretly eting with a certain senator…"

Marcus narrowed his eyes.

The pirates want to et with a senator?

Interesting.

He put away the intelligence and walked to the window.

Night had completely fallen. Torches were lit in the training ground.

The gladiators — no, now the mbers of "Shadow" — were practicing night combat.

Octavius's huge figure was especially prominent in the firelight. Saxa was as agile as a cat. Gisco was loudly shouting commands…

Everything was getting on track.

But Marcus knew that this calm was only on the surface.

Seven days later, in the evening, the intelligence was finally confird.

The leader of the Sicilian pirates "Sea Snake," Leta, was really coming to Capua openly.

Not sneaking around, but arriving on a two-masted fast ship with black sails, docking directly at the most conspicuous position of the civilian dock in Capua port — this woman's guts were too big!

"Is she crazy?"

Saxa lay on the roof of the training ground, holding the simple telescope Marcus had exchanged from the system, her mouth wide open. "There are at least fifty guards at the port, and she only brought… let count, twelve people ashore!"

Marcus stood beside her, also narrowing his eyes to look toward the port.

That ship was indeed eye-catching — black sails, a coiling sea snake spitting its tongue painted in white on the hull, gleaming coldly in the setting sun.

There weren't many people on the deck, but each one looked as tough as a sharpened blade. The curved blades at their waists swayed with their steps, and their eyes swept over the dock like hooks.

The leading woman was too easy to recognize.

Leta.

She stood at the bow, her deep brown long hair braided into dozens of thin braids, randomly tied back with colorful beads.

Her bronze-colored skin glowed with a healthy luster in the afterglow of the setting sun. Her face was painted with black oil paint — not decoration, but the anti-glare battle markings only old sailors understood.

She wore leather armor with shorts, revealing firm calves and arms. Her muscle lines were smooth, as if trained from years of fighting waves.

The curved blade at her waist had an exaggerated arc that was frightening.

Even from this distance, Marcus could feel that aura — wild, dangerous, like a female leopard that had just co ashore to stretch her muscles.

"Who is she here to see?"

Octavius squatted beside them and asked in his deep, muffled voice.

"Who knows."

Marcus put away the telescope and spun the tube in his palm. "But definitely not here to buy olive oil."

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