"Did you all hear the news? Hortensius has holed himself up in his domus and refuses to come out." "The optimate senators only listen to Cicero these days. Hortensius is finished politically." "Rumor has it he spends all day at home just taking care of his mullets and moray eels." "Moray eels? You mean those strange snakes that live in the water? He raises those at home? That must cost quite a fortune." "Word is he can’t bring himself to eat his own eels, so he buys others at the market instead." Rumors of change within the Senate spread like wildfire. Of them all, Hortensius’s apparent downfall attracted the most attention. Before Cicero supplanted him in the courts, Hortensius had been hailed as Rome’s greatest lawyer and orator. Even after losing his top spot to Cicero, he continued to wield immense influence among the optimates. However distinguished Cicero’s consulship had been, he was still a novus homo—the first man in his family to reach the highest offices of the Republic. By contrast, the Hortensii belonged to the old Roman nobility. He was the man who had recently maneuvered Luceius into provoking a confrontation with Clodius in the Forum. For so influential an optimate to withdraw from politics caused a sensation. Instead of appearing in the courts or the Senate, Hortensius now spent all his time at home. The vast garden and artificial pond he had built at enormous expense became his refuge from public life. "How dare you pour cheap wine on my plane tree! Are you completely out of your mind?!" "I-I am so sorry, Master!" Hortensius now spent his days tending his prized trees with the finest wine. "He made such grand speeches about saving Rome from Caesar, but I guess Hortensius was nothing special after all." "That's just how the Senate is these days. They do nothing but sit around amusing themselves all day." Just as the optimates appeared to be faltering, they made a move no one expected. They proposed the establishment of a city police force and a public inspectorate. "Wait, the Senate actually proposed it before Caesar did?" "That’s not all. Today’s latest pamphlet says..." What shocked Rome’s citizens most, however, was the new land bill. The bill would finally provide Pompey’s veterans with their long-promised land grants. The reaction across Rome was nearly unanimous. "They proposed a land bill for the veterans? The same Senate that blocked it at every turn?" "Did they all eat something bad? What on earth happened to the Senate?" *** "What in the world do you think the Senate is trying to achieve by doing this?" Pompey asked, looking around the construction site. Laborers hurried back and forth across the site with wooden planks on their shoulders. This was the construction site of the temporary arena being built for the upcoming Nova Troia festival. "They ignored the land bill no matter how much I begged, and now they rush to introduce it themselves." "They are probably trying to seize the initiative from Father and me. Everyone knew we intended to introduce it soon." I said, stepping up beside him. The land bill was one of the main reasons Pompey had allied himself with Father and Crassus. Pompey wanted to give his veterans the land he had promised them. But the Senate had blocked every attempt to enact it. The senators had done so to protect their own interests and prevent Pompey from gaining still more influence. And now they had introduced the land bill themselves? It was an astonishing reversal. "The Senate must have finally realized that the rules of the game have changed. They realized they cannot win without the citizens' support." "You have changed Rome in the strangest possible way, Lucius. At this point, I wouldn’t even bat an eye if someone told me wolves had started eating grass." "Technically, wolves do occasionally eat grass," I replied with a laugh. But I could understand how Pompey felt. He had struggled for years to pass the land bill, only for the Senate to turn around and introduce it itself. "But if you look closely, the bill contains numerous provisions favorable to the Senate. Look at the proposed commissions: every member is a senator." I pointed out. The same was true of the proposals for the police force and public inspectorate. Everything they proposed was cleverly designed to protect the Senate's interests. "And many veterans are currently scraping by as day laborers in Rome. Quite a few of them supported Clodius's free grain bill not too long ago. If they are given land to farm..." "The number of poor citizens in Rome will fall accordingly. Consequently, fewer citizens will vote for measures aimed at relieving urban poverty. So they intend to weaken the urban poor as a political force by shrinking their numbers, eh?" "It's quite ironic, isn't it?" But it wasn't like this was the first time something like this had happened in politics. As socialism and communism gained support among the working class, many conservative politicians rushed to introduce welfare reforms of their own. A shrewd politician knew when to change colors like a chameleon. "Cicero is a shrewd politician." "He really is. Just as you said, Lucius, it's a smart move. That bastard Cicero has always had a devious streak. This time, he pushed Hortensius aside and set himself up as leader of the optimates." Pompey said. "On the battlefield, you can never just stand still. No matter how great an advantage you hold over the enemy..." He raised a finger and jabbed it against my chest. "The moment you let your guard down, it’s over. You said you wanted to turn Rome into an ark capable of weathering the coming storm." "Yes, I did." "Then make sure you remain at the helm. Wouldn’t it infuriate you to hand the ship you worked so hard to build over to someone else without a fight?" "..." The helm, huh. I hadn’t given it much thought until then. Our political position had simply seemed that secure. But Father’s term as consul would end that year. After serving as consul, a man had to wait ten years before seeking the office again. Father would likely depart for Gaul as governor, just as he had in the history I remembered. That would leave me with two choices: follow Father to Gaul or remain in Rome and pursue a political career. Whichever option I chose, my influence was bound to shrink. Although I had secured a post among the vigintisexviri the previous year, I was still too young to stand for either the quaestorship or the aedileship. So what should I do? I could back Pompey and Crassus in bids for second consulships. But even if we succeeded, I would inevitably be pushed into the background. There was a much better move than that. "Then I need to do exactly what Cicero did." "The same method?" "Persuade the Roman citizens." I looked at the arena under construction and added. "Persuade them that I am fit to take the helm." *** Until then, Roman politics had revolved primarily around individuals. That was true of optimates and populares alike. Roman politicians repeatedly formed temporary factions and alliances in pursuit of power, but these were little more than loose political affiliations. There was no unified platform to bind members together, no formal leadership, and no permanent organization. But now we had the press, public-opinion polls, signal towers, and a postal network. The recent pamphlet war had also driven a surge in political participation. People who had never met were now discovering one another and exchanging ideas through the post and the press. Naturally, people who shared the same views began to organize. That was exactly why collegia had been multiplying recently. What would emerge when all these developments came together? The answer was obvious from the history I remembered. A mass political organization—in other words, a political party. People who shared a common ideology, identity, and set of political goals were beginning to organize. That was also why my fan club had formed in the first place. "Right now, I need their power." Cicero had already made his move. As my father-in-law had said, it was time for me to respond in kind. It was time to create Rome's very first political party. *** "A political party?" Felix tilted his head at the unfamiliar term. "If it's about supporting a specific politician or policy, aren’t there already countless collegia for that?" "There are. But what I need is not personal loyalty. I need support for a coherent political program." Not merely a policy, but an entire worldview. In other words, I needed to present a clear vision of the future. "I don’t need people who worship me or follow me blindly. Too many such followers might actually become a liability." In Rome, nothing provoked a public backlash more quickly than a cult of personality. In the history I remembered, Father had enjoyed immense popular support, but ironically, that very support led to suspicions that he aspired to kingship. In Rome, few accusations were more dangerous than aspiring to kingship. Father had already warned me of that danger. "I need people who support my ideology and worldview, not me personally." "But what exactly do you mean by ‘ideology’ and ‘worldview’?" Felix asked, crossing his arms. "And what ideology do you intend to advocate, Young Master?" "That is..." I paused for a moment. Could I invent an ideology perfectly suited to my current situation and to Rome? No, that would be impossible. Above all, an ideology manufactured solely for convenience would feel artificial. As the saying goes, a person’s true beliefs are revealed through their actions. So what had I been doing all this time? Since being reborn in Rome, I had launched numerous ventures: an insurance business, Palmolive, a signal-tower network, and papermaking. But unlike Crassus, my ultimate goal had never been simply to amass wealth. I employed free citizens wherever possible instead of slaves, winning their support in the process. I recruited employees fairly across as many tribes as possible and established the veterans' fund. I invested massive sums not only in Rome but in various allied cities as well. If I tried to define the political philosophy underlying those actions... It came closest to compassionate conservatism. It was an ideology that defended private property and free markets while calling on government, charities, and religious institutions to cooperate in supporting the vulnerable. To think I was a conservative. What a surprising discovery. But the idea was not entirely alien to Romans. Roman society already possessed something resembling noblesse oblige: the belief that wealth and status carried obligations toward the community. Financing public buildings, sponsoring games, and assisting clients were duties—and sources of honor—for the Roman elite. What if I took that principle a step further? "An ordinary politician could never sustain such a system." Continuing to earn enormous sums while pouring much of that money back into society would be unsustainable for an ordinary politician. But I possessed an advantage no one else had: knowledge of the future. With that knowledge, I could continue generating enormous profits. As long as I could continue generating those profits, sharing a portion of them would not be difficult. It was a path no one else could follow—no one but me, Lucius Caesar. Roman capitalism. No, should I call it New Caesarism? "I should ask someone else to help me flesh this idea out." There was one person who was perfect for the task. The obvious choice was Brutus, a gifted writer and master of media warfare who had recently waged the pamphlet war alongside Pompeia. He was also the head of my fan club. "You're here just in time, Lucius. Everyone else has been eagerly waiting for you." As I followed Brutus into the insula, dozens of men welcomed me. They all greeted me with broad smiles. It was always uncomfortable whenever I came here. Father loved meeting with his supporters, but I found it awkward in more ways than one. I was grateful for their passionate support, but... Whenever I saw their eyes shining with admiration, an uncomfortable shiver ran down my spine. "I came because there is something I'd like to discuss with you all today." "Perfect timing. I actually had something I wanted to show you too. There will be a book fair at the upcoming Nova Troia festival, won’t there? We thought we would publish something for the occasion..." With that, Brutus produced a slim pamphlet. It was a slim, eight-page pamphlet of the kind that had become so popular during the recent pamphlet war. "Our collegium was planning to publish this pamphlet." "This is..." I coughed involuntarily as I read the pamphlet Brutus had handed me. "What on earth is this?" "It's a compilation of the things you've said so far. A book of quotes, of sorts," Brutus said, his face glowing with pride. "From the bandit subjugation campaign up until now, I've gathered all the impressive phrases you've spoken. I organized them by topic so they're easy to read." "..." So that was why I had always seen him scribbling things down beside me whenever I spoke. Seeing my own words collected on the page made my face burn with embarrassment. [I will turn all Rome into a forum for debate.] [Knowledge is power. Then I shall share that power with all Rome.] [The Roman Republic possesses the power to change itself without shedding blood.] They sounded like cheap one-liners uttered by some third-rate pulp hero. "I truly appreciate it, but..." I said, clearing my throat. There was no way I was going to let something this embarrassing be sold at the book fair. I wasn’t Mao Zedong, for heaven’s sake. A cult of personality in Rome right now would only backfire. "There was actually something else I wanted to ask of you, Brutus." "What do you need from me?" "To present our political creed to the citizens. I want you to write a text setting out the principles Father and I share for the people of Rome and Italy." A single person’s creed could sometimes change the world. Then what would happen if tens—or even hundreds—of thousands of people came to share the same convictions? 'It's time to find out.' The thought made me pause. Wait, was that a one-liner too?