From the construction of Nova Troia to the redevelopment of the Subura, Rome was in the grip of a massive construction boom. The streets practically hummed with vitality.
Citizens who had found work spent their new wages in the markets, and companies and merchants competed fiercely for every coin they could earn.
New goods and foods flooded the stalls, while advertisements covered the city walls.
"Has there ever been a better time to be alive?"
"Even the price of grain has stabilized. Who would have thought so much could change in just a single year?"
As merchant guilds and companies proliferated, innovative products appeared in the markets every day.
But just as every coin has two sides, Rome had its dark side as well.
Far from the public eye, another kind of war was already under way.
A war fought for information.
"Alright, who came today?"
"The usuals."
A child, who looked to be no older than ten, answered with a bright smile.
"I saw Antony again, too."
"Antony was here again?" the man asked, silently scanning his surroundings.
He waited until the other pedestrians were out of sight.
"Then keep waiting in front of the estate. Let me know who comes out first."
The man fished a few coins from his tunic and pressed them into the child's hand.
The child tested one of the coins with his teeth before carefully putting the money away.
"Yes, sir!"
The man darted across the alley and rejoined his waiting comrades.
They were all clients of Gaius Caesar.
However, their duties were vastly different from those of ordinary clients.
Instead of attending speeches or organizing rallies, they prowled the streets, gathering intelligence and reporting it directly to Caesar.
"He says Antony was here again."
"Six visits to Crassus's estate in a single month. Anyone would think the eagle had changed its nest."
"Let's report this to Caesar first."
While they whispered among themselves, other men tasked with similar missions scoured the city streets.
Who was supporting whom? Who was plotting what?
Day or night, there was no such thing as a true secret in Rome.
＊＊＊
"Antony! I didn't expect to see you here."
"Curio, it's been a while."
Antony embraced the man warmly.
"You look a bit gaunter than before."
Antony remarked as he took a seat and plucked a grape from the table.
All around them, dancers swayed to the music while servants kept bringing out platters of fruit and delicacies.
It was one of the regular banquets hosted at Crassus's estate, where young nobles gathered to cultivate useful connections or simply indulge in the extravagant pleasures provided by Rome's wealthiest man.
Antony studied the friend sitting across from him.
Gaius Scribonius Curio.
Curio, who was the same age as Antony, looked noticeably more haggard than before.
"I heard you were working for Lucius's insurance business recently. Did something happen?"
"It was absolute madness. I quit after a few days."
Curio growled.
"All we did was defending Caesar's honor! And just because we roughed up a few street thugs, he humiliated us in front of the plebeians."
He continued, his voice trembling with anger.
"We apologized to those so-called 'victims' and even paid them compensation. And yet Lucius insisted we show 'genuine remorse.' He ordered us to perform manual labor at a construction site like common slaves!"
"..."
Antony silently popped another grape into his mouth.
"That must have been rough."
"You said it. The others are probably still out there toiling like dogs in Nova Troia. But I refuse to stain my family's honor by performing such filthy labor."
Curio glanced around the room before leaning in close.
"I hear you've had a falling out with Lucius recently as well?"
"I've been a bit strapped for money lately, so I went to Lucius for a loan, but..."
"Yeah, I heard. He slammed the door right in your face, didn't he?"
Curio said with a smirk.
Instead of answering, Antony tightened his grip on his wine cup.
Curio checked their surroundings one more time before whispering,
"Think about how much you've done for Lucius and his father. You led the charge against those bandits, and you poured your heart into organizing the Trojan Games. And yet, he refuses to lend you a few measly coins?"
"Friends can be like that sometimes."
"I don't treat my friends like that."
Curio retorted.
"Actually, there's something I've been wanting to discuss with you..."
While the dancers continued their performance, many of the thoroughly inebriated young nobles stumbled off to private rooms set aside for them.
There, they could enjoy the dancers' company in private or simply continue drinking away from the crowd.
After hearing Curio out, Antony nodded slowly.
"I'll think about it."
"I knew you'd say that. I won't pressure you, but you should come to one of our meetings sometime."
Long after the sun had set, Antony stumbled out of Crassus's estate.
"It's getting late, sir. Allow us to escort you home."
"Do you think I'm so drunk I can't even find my own house?!"
At Antony's sudden shout, the slaves flinched and quickly backed away.
"N-No, sir."
"Tell your master I had a splendid evening."
He staggered away, weaving through the lamplit streets.
After turning down a few alleys, his gait completely changed.
The man who had seemed ready to collapse only moments earlier was now walking with brisk, steady strides.
He eventually stopped before a quiet domus.
"Damn it, what was the signal again? Two knocks, a pause, then one more. Right."
He grabbed the knocker and rapped out the prearranged signal.
A moment later, the front door creaked open.
A man nodded silently and ushered him inside.
"Welcome. The master has been waiting for you."
"Thanks."
Stepping inside, Antony let out a yawn and headed straight for the atrium.
There, illuminated by a single oil lamp, a middle-aged man sat reading a book.
The man looked up and met Antony's eyes.
"You're late."
"I had to make sure I wasn't being followed," Antony said as he dropped into the chair opposite him.
"If people find out I've been sneaking over here in the middle of the night this often, they'll start thinking I'm the consul's secret lover."
"Apologies, Antony, but you're really not my type."
Caesar set his book down and flashed a grin.
"Now, let's hear your report."
＊＊＊
"Curio. That name sounds familiar."
Caesar muttered, stroking his chin as he digested Antony's report.
"Ah. He was one of the young nobles who attacked citizens in the streets at night."
It was an incident that occurred right before the development of Nova Troia was officially announced.
A group of young patricians had used defending Caesar's honor as an excuse to assault random citizens on the streets, nearly causing a massive scandal.
Caesar had personally forced them to apologize in public, pay restitution, and work as laborers on the new city's construction sites, effectively putting the scandal to rest.
"It seems he's been harboring a grudge ever since."
Antony noted.
"Curio has become the center of a small circle of disaffected young nobles. They're definitely plotting something."
"Do you think Crassus is involved with these conspirators?"
"Probably not. Crassus is just doing what he's always done."
"Providing young men with coin, women, and entertainment, you mean. True, Crassus has no reason to antagonize me right now."
Caesar nodded slowly.
"Play along with them for the time being and gather as much information as you can. And keep a close eye on Clodius as well."
"I already have several men watching him."
Caesar nodded in satisfaction.
Antony was Caesar's Trojan horse within the circles of Rome's disaffected young nobles.
Antony had deliberately orchestrated a public falling-out with Caesar to infiltrate these circles and gather intelligence.
After delivering a few more brief updates, Antony left the estate.
Left alone, Caesar took a slow sip of watered-down wine.
"First, I need to figure out exactly what those fools are planning."
At that moment, no man in Rome stood in a stronger position.
He was both Consul, one of Rome's two highest magistrates, and Pontifex Maximus.
His son, Lucius, was also amassing staggering wealth and influence, backed by the fervent support of countless citizens.
But the gods always allowed men to taste the sweet nectar of victory right before striking them down for their arrogance.
There was no faster path to ruin than succumbing to hubris.
No matter how secure his position seemed, he had to remain vigilant, watch those around him, and gather as much intelligence as possible.
"I can't exactly dump this kind of dirty work on Lucius."
He muttered to himself.
"A father should be the one to deal with filth like this, after all."
＊＊＊
The Subura.
Although plans for reconstruction were already under way, the fire-ravaged districts had yet to be cleared.
The charred remains of insulae and shops had become havens for beggars and thugs with nowhere else to go.
And inside one of these burned-out buildings, a man in a toga stood on the first floor, staring out the window.
A full moon shone brightly in the night sky, casting a stark glow over the ruins.
"The printers and typesetters are all ready. Just give the word, and we can begin printing immediately."
At Curio's report, the man turned his head.
"Maintain absolute secrecy. I don't want word of the contents getting out. By the way, I heard you spoke with Antony at Crassus's estate today?"
"Yes. It seems Antony has had a falling out with Caesar recently as well. If we play this right, he might join us."
"It could be a ruse by Caesar. Toss him a little bait and test him first."
The man said.
They weren't the only ones inside the burned insula.
Burly slaves armed with clubs and batons patrolled the perimeter, and in the center of the room, a man knelt with his hands bound behind his back, his body beaten to a bloody pulp.
Curio pointed at the man.
"Who is he?"
"A spy planted by Pompey. We caught him passing messages to Pompey's men."
"If Pompey finds out you laid a hand on one of his men, he won't let this go."
Curio said, his voice laced with anxiety.
The bound man's face was swollen beyond recognition, mottled with bruises and caked in blood.
"We'll see about that."
Publius Clodius Pulcher replied smoothly.
He drew a dagger from beneath the folds of his toga and, without a second's hesitation, drove it straight into the bound man's neck.
The man never even had the chance to scream. Blood poured from the wound, and his body slumped lifelessly to the floor.
"What in the gods' names have you done?!"
Clodius merely shrugged at the horrified Curio.
"If we let him live, he'll run straight back to Pompey and tell him everything. Corpses, on the other hand, tell no tales."
"But if Pompey finds out..."
"We'll dump the body in the sewers. That will be the end of it. There are no witnesses, so he can't exactly pin it on us. And if he accuses us, wouldn't he be admitting that he planted a spy in my circle in the first place?"
Clodius chuckled softly.
At his gesture, the slaves stepped forward and dragged the corpse out of the room.
"Am I wrong?"
"..."
Curio snapped his mouth shut.
It had only been a short while since Clodius had first approached him.
His offer had been far too tempting to refuse.
"Don't you want a chance to exact your revenge on Caesar?"
Curio desperately wanted revenge on Caesar, but allying himself with Clodius was beginning to feel like a terrible mistake.
But now that he was riding a charging bull, he had only two choices: hold on, or fall beneath its horns.
"The Senate won't simply sit by and let us do as we please," Curio warned anxiously. "If we're not careful, we may drive the senators straight into Caesar's arms. Besides, you aren't yet eligible to stand for election as tribune of the plebs. We still have very few ways to sway the popular assemblies."
"Provoking the Senate is precisely what I intend to do. Where Catiline failed, we will succeed. All we need is to gather as many supporters as possible. If we control the popular assemblies, we control Rome itself."
Clodius smiled.
"The assemblies exist to give Rome's citizens a voice, and citizens naturally support the men who fight for them. The Senate does not matter. The people do. So we must convince the citizens that we are the ones fighting on their behalf. Don't you agree?"
His smile widened.
For his plan to succeed, however, he first had to weaken Caesar.
"We now have the same weapon Caesar has: the press. We can use it to win the citizens over to our side," Clodius said, his eyes gleaming. "But everything must proceed exactly according to plan."