Chapter 108: Chapter 108 : Unnecessary Result

Since its founding, the Veterans’ Fund had rapidly grown into the largest charitable institution in Rome.

Backed by Caesar’s many enterprises and donations from merchants, the fund expanded its operations to support discharged legionaries.

Its programs included job placement, basic living stipends, and various forms of vocational training.

Furthermore, the fund introduced a certification system, granting official ’sponsorship badges’ to approved merchants, which in turn created a secondary source of revenue for the organization.

"Five percent of every sale goes directly to supporting the brave veterans of the Republic! Drink the wine of true Roman citizens!"

A vast majority of Roman citizens had either served in the legions themselves or had close relatives who had bled for the Republic.

Consequently, citizens naturally began favoring products bearing the fund’s official sponsorship badge.

"Even if it costs a few sesterces more, we should buy this one."

"Exactly. It’s not like the price difference is that steep anyway."

As demonstrated during the initial Palmolive price wars, Roman citizens did not purchase goods based solely on the lowest price.

As public sentiment shifted, the fund’s influence over the Roman market grew at an astonishing pace.

And naturally, that immense concentration of influence became a breeding ground for corruption.

"Come now, surely you can lower the certification standards just this once?"

"This is strictly against the rules, but... I suppose I can look the other way, just for you."

Several staff members within the fund began accepting bribes under the table in exchange for granting undeserved sponsorship badges or approving dubious financial claims.

Some betrayed their colleagues to pay off crippling gambling debts, while others simply succumbed to the allure of unimaginable wealth.

And every single one of these transgressions was dragged into the light by Cato’s meticulous audit.

***

"You are going to publicly disclose all of this? You intend to lay bare the darkest, most shameful secrets of your own fund before the entire city?"

"Yes, Father."

My father paused, lifting his eyes from the massive report to look at me.

We were sitting together in his private office within the Regia.

Junior priests kept entering the room with documents for his signature, but my father continued.

"But doing so will undoubtedly damage both your fund’s reputation and our family name."

"I anticipated this the moment I entrusted the audit to Cato. In fact, this is exactly what I wanted."

My enterprises had expanded far too rapidly in too short a time, naturally leaving structural gaps and blind spots.

While Felix and Babu had worked tirelessly to plug the holes, preventing corruption entirely was impossible.

After all, organizations of this scale simply hadn’t existed in this era before.

No matter how many advanced policies I attempted to implement, turning them into actual practice required years of trial, error, and refinement.

"Thanks to Cato’s obsessive diligence, we’ve identified the leaks. Now, all that’s left is to plug them."

"And you believe publicly disclosing this is the best way to do so?"

"Yes. It helps that none of the individuals involved in this embezzlement have any direct ties to me."

I handed the thick, heavily annotated report back to my father.

The document detailed every single instance of embezzlement Cato had uncovered, along with the names of the culprits.

It meticulously chronicled exactly how much money was stolen, how it was hidden, and what the perpetrators spent it on.

I had to admit, I hadn’t expected Cato to conduct such a thorough investigation.

He must have been desperate to find a single thread to implicate me and tear me down.

Well, ironically enough, his obsessive hatred ended up doing me an enormous favor.

"By publicly exposing these embezzlers, the fund’s overall credibility will actually increase."

"True. Very few men willingly expose their own flaws. If it is proven that you were uninvolved, the citizens’ trust in your integrity will deepen," my father mused.

"Exactly. It’s essentially a seal of approval, stamped by the incorruptible Cato himself."

"..."

My father fell silent, a look of profound calculation settling over his face.

"However, punishing these men will require no small amount of effort. Terminating their employment is simple enough, but recovering the stolen funds..."

"It will require formal lawsuits. We would have to hire advocates and secure reliable witnesses," I finished with a nod.

And even if we won the lawsuits, recovering the stolen money was a pipe dream.

First of all, Roman citizens were almost never held in physical custody during civil or non-capital trials.

The moment the lawsuits were formally filed, they would almost certainly flee Rome and vanish into the provinces.

Furthermore, even if they were found guilty in absentia, the maximum penalty in these civil cases was the confiscation of their assets.

And it was highly likely that every single one of these embezzlers had already hidden their stolen wealth somewhere we could never trace.

It might cost more to find and seize the hidden assets than we could ever recover.

"Then how do you intend to proceed?"

"The public disclosure itself will serve as the most devastating punishment," I replied coldly.

"These men stole funds that I and countless merchants had donated—funds explicitly meant to save the starving veterans of Rome—and squandered them to satisfy their own pathetic greed. When the citizens of Rome learn of this, how do you think they will react?"

I didn’t even need to say the answer out loud.

In this era of Rome, an individual did not exist in a vacuum.

Every person was bound to a vast web of family ties, bloodlines, and tribal affiliations.

If legal retribution was impossible, the most powerful alternative was irrevocable social annihilation.

Hearing my logic, my father let out an amused chuckle.

"A delightfully vicious plan. Very well. I shall lend you a hand."

"Lend me a hand? How so?"

"Embezzling funds dedicated to the veterans of Rome is not merely a secular crime. It is a grave affront to the virtues that bind this Republic. It is, in essence, an act of blasphemy against the gods themselves."

I couldn’t help but flinch slightly.

Wait, was he going to do what I thought he was going to do?

"And if the gods are mocked, their divine wrath must inevitably fall upon the transgressors. Legal retribution may be agonizingly slow..."

My father flashed a smile as he continued.

"But the gods can strike down a mortal at any moment."

***

Immediately after Cato submitted his final audit report, every staff member implicated in the embezzlement was dismissed from Caesar’s Fund.

However, most of the culprits were unconcerned.

"Who cares if we’re fired? We’ve already got enough silver to live like kings for the rest of our lives!"

"Exactly. If things start looking grim, we can just pack up and leave Rome."

They spent their days living in hedonistic luxury, casually hiring the most expensive and renowned advocates in Rome to prepare for the inevitable civil lawsuits Caesar would file.

However, their arrogant complacency did not last long.

The nightmare began on the streets of Rome.

"What in Jupiter’s name is this?!"

"Are you telling me this many people were stealing from the fund?!"

Since Caesar’s return to Rome, citizens had grown used to seeing massive flyers plastered across the city.

But the flyers that went up that day were entirely different.

They weren’t advertising merchant goods or promoting festivals. They were stark lists of names and numbers.

"Marcus Tullius Aper. Tribe: Corneia. Embezzled a total of four hundred thousand sesterces. Spent primarily on gambling debts."

"Look, here’s another one. He lives in the Subura..."

Massive crowds of citizens gathered around the flyers, murmuring in furious shock.

The posters detailed every single instance of embezzlement Cato had uncovered, explicitly naming the culprits, their tribal affiliations, and exactly what they blew the stolen money on.

"There he is! That’s one of the bastards right there!"

"He lives right down this street!"

The moment any of the embezzlers dared to step out of their homes, they were instantly pelted with rotten fruit and stones while vicious curses rained down from every direction.

"What do you think you’re doing?!"

"Are you all insane...?!"

Terrified and bruised, the culprits desperately fled to the elders of their respective tribes, begging for protection and intervention.

But no one stepped forward to help them.

"Do you have any idea how much shame and humiliation you’ve brought upon our entire tribe because of your greed?! If you have even a shred of decency left, you will return every last sesterce to the fund immediately!"

In Rome, everything revolved around the tribe and the gens (family clan).

The same was true of marriage, divorce, property disputes, and even criminal investigations and trials.

Every event, large or small, was mediated and resolved through tribal networks.

The moment they were formally disowned and cast out by their own tribes, the embezzlers realized their lives were in very real danger.

"We need to get out of Rome. Now."

"Agreed. We have to survive this first."

They frantically packed their belongings and fled Rome, heading for allied cities across Italy.

They figured that as long as they had their hidden hoards of stolen wealth, they could live like royalty anywhere they went.

Even if they were outcasts in Rome, the other cities wouldn’t care.

At least, that was what they believed.

"We’re sorry, but you are forbidden from entering our city."

"What are you talking about?! I literally just purchased a domus in this very city a few weeks ago!"

"Have you not heard the news?"

The city officials looked at them with troubled yet resolute expressions.

"The Pontifex Maximus has performed a Piaculum, a formal rite of expiation."

"A Piaculum?"

"He formally declared that your heinous actions in Rome have provoked the wrath of the gods. To avert that divine fury from striking the Republic, he performed a purification ritual and published your names."

"What does that..."

"It means that if we allow you to enter our city, we will be inviting the wrath of the gods upon ourselves."

Ultimately, the embezzlers found city gates across Italy slammed shut in their faces.

They were universally shunned, to the point where even purchasing basic food and water became nearly impossible.

"To deny us even fire and water... this is practically the same as declaring us enemies of the Republic."

"If this is how it’s going to be, why don’t we just flee to the provinces?"

"Do you really think the provincial governors will take us in when the Pontifex Maximus has cursed us?!"

Meanwhile, back in the Roman courts, a special commission was already being assembled to confiscate the entirety of their remaining assets.

***

"So, you engineered this from the very beginning. You gave me the audit knowing this would happen, didn’t you?"

"I could not think of a more qualified, incorruptible man for the job than you, Senator Cato."

I shrugged at Cato’s accusation.

Cato’s face was gaunt, his cheeks sunken, with dark circles under his eyes.

My staff told me he had practically lived in the Fund’s archives, staying up late every single night to review the ledgers.

I guess he really didn’t expect the situation to unfold like this.

"To publicly release the embezzlement records of your own staff members... that is a maneuver that must have required immense calculation from the very beginning."

"I certainly suspected there would be some level of corruption, but I honestly didn’t expect the rot to run this deep. If it weren’t for your diligence, Senator, I never would have found them all."

I said it with genuine sincerity.

This entire ordeal had proven to me just how terrifyingly competent Cato actually was.

He had hunted down every single financial leak faster and more meticulously than any accountant currently working under me could have.

I heard he even took the time to learn the new numeral system just to audit the books more efficiently.

Maybe the man had been born to audit ledgers and simply chose the wrong career path.

"To think you would use me like a mere tool. I may have failed to uncover any personal corruption tying you to this mess, Lucius, but do not think for a second that I will simply turn a blind eye to your ambitions."

"I never expected you to."

I replied, smiling.

Every time we interacted, I was deeply fascinated by Cato’s seemingly infinite hostility toward me and my father.

"The fund was established to serve the citizens of Rome. And moving forward, the banking sector will undoubtedly evolve to do the same. All of this was made possible by your assistance, Senator Cato."

"Do not insult my intelligence by dressing your ambitions in the guise of ’serving the citizens’. Ultimately, everything you do is solely to advance your political career and your father’s."

"And isn’t that exactly what every Roman politician desires?"

To achieve greater imperium, secure everlasting glory, and etch one’s name into the annals of history—that was the ultimate dream of every patrician born in Rome.

"But if, in the pursuit of that ambition, the citizens of Rome genuinely benefit and their lives improve, what is the harm in that?"

"We are supposed to serve the Roman Republic and its citizens. Not the other way around."

"I am fairly certain your political allies do not share that noble sentiment."

When it came to systemic corruption, the conservative optimates were arguably the worst offenders in the Republic.

No matter how pure and uncompromising Cato himself was, he routinely turned a blind eye when his own family members and political allies engaged in blatant corruption and extortion.

In that regard, he was no different from any other hypocritical Roman politician.

"What I desire is a fair contest. Not a political arena entirely consumed by petty hostility, blind tribalism, and old grudges."

"..."

Cato sighed heavily instead of answering.

Still, he seemed significantly less hostile than when we first crossed paths.

Honestly, if you stripped away his stubborn contrarianism and his obsession with archaic traditions, Cato was a remarkably upright man.

Above all else, he genuinely strove for an idealized, incorruptible form of politics.

The problem was that his ideal was completely detached from the brutal reality of Rome.

"Whenever I speak with you, Lucius, I feel as though you drain the life out of me. Honestly, I would rather deal directly with your father. At least with him, I can unleash my rage without feeling as if I am arguing with a stone wall." Cato muttered, rubbing his temples.

"I am taking my leave. Given how thoroughly you’ve tormented me these past few weeks, I intend to take a very long, very quiet rest."

"I highly recommend you get as much rest as possible over the next few days. You are going to be far busier very soon."

"Busier?"

Cato stopped dead in his tracks.

"Well, naturally. You’ve only just finished auditing my fund," I smiled warmly.

"Now, you will have to audit Senator Crassus’s foundation."

I watched as the color completely drained from Cato’s face, leaving him looking like a man who had just been sentenced to death.

Did I push him too hard?

But as Cato himself always preached, true Roman patriots must willingly sacrifice themselves for the greater good of the Republic.

***

Late that night.

The signal towers connecting the port city of Ostia to Rome were, as always, bustling with preparations for the nightly signaling.

Unlike the towers along the main road, this one had been newly erected beside a lesser-used side road.

"No fog tonight. Visibility should be perfect. Are the telescopes prepared?"

"All set and ready to go."

Laberius stretched his arms wide, looking out toward the west where the paved road disappeared into the darkness.

Working the night shift was always a grueling, exhausting task.

However, the generous wages more than compensated for the physical toll.

Honestly, just securing a stable, well-paying job in Rome these days was a stroke of luck.

"We really owe everything to Caesar."

"Did you say something?"

"Ah, nothing."

Laberius chuckled lightly, waving off his colleague’s question.

Before starting the signaling sequence, he and his partner conducted one final, routine inspection of the mechanical arms and torches.

"Nights like this remind me of standing watch back in the legion."

"Again with your legion stories? Don’t you ever get tired of them?"

"Life in the legion was grueling, sure. But now that I’m retired, I find myself missing it. There was a strange sort of happiness in standing in formation with my comrades, shield in hand."

"Or maybe you’re just a peculiar kind of pervert."

Then it happened.

Under the faint silver glow of the moon, a lone silhouette emerged from the darkness and slowly approached the tower.

A man on horseback.

"Riding alone on the road at this time? That takes some serious nerve."

"No kidding. Usually, merchants and travelers stick together in large groups."

"Well, you have to if you don’t want to get robbed by whatever bandits are still out there."

Laberius nodded in agreement.

He and his colleague watched as the lone rider brought his horse to a halt near the base of the tower.

The man was draped in a heavy dark cloak, the deep shadows completely obscuring his face.

"He’s been staring up at us for a while now."

"I’ll go down and see what he wants."

Laberius descended the wooden ladder and approached the mounted stranger.

"Is everything all right, traveler? Do you require assistance?"

"No, I am fine. The tower simply caught my eye. I was curious to see how the mechanism operated," the man replied, his voice calm and steady.

"We won’t begin operations for a little while longer," Laberius said, stepping closer.

The darkness made it difficult to see clearly, but as Laberius drew closer, he caught a brief glimpse of a long, jagged scar running down the man’s face.

"You have quite an unusual accent. Are you from outside of Italy?"

"Yes, you could say that."

The man replied curtly, tightening his grip on the reins.

"I apologize if I disturbed your work. I will be on my way now."

"Hold on a moment. Judging by the way you carry yourself, you look like a former legionary. Did you serve in the provinces?" Laberius asked with a friendly smile.

"I spent a long time stationed in Hispania myself. If we happened to serve in the same legion..."

"Impressive. You can see my face clearly in this pitch-black darkness?"

"I’ve always been told I have excellent night vision. My wife says so, at least."

"I see."

The man nodded slowly before dismounting his horse.

He took a slow step toward Laberius.

"A shame, truly."

"A shame? What do you mean by..."

That was all Laberius managed to say.

A blade flashed in the moonlight, slicing across his throat. Warm crimson blood sprayed across the dirt.

Laberius stumbled backward, his hands frantically clutching at his ruined throat as he collapsed to the ground.

"Laberius! You bastard, what are you doing?!"

His colleague at the top of the tower screamed in horror.

Almost instantly, a second knife hissed through the air.

With a sickening thud, the blade buried itself deep in the man’s chest, and his body tumbled off the platform, crashing heavily onto the dirt below.

"A true shame."

The scarred man murmured quietly, casually wiping the bloody blade clean with a cloth.

He walked slowly toward Laberius, who was still convulsing on the ground, choking as he desperately tried to breathe through the blood.

"I despise unnecessary killing."

Laberius twitched violently, coughed up a final mouthful of blood, and went completely still.

The man stepped over the corpse, walked up to the colleague who had fallen from the tower, and retrieved his throwing knife.

Now, he was the only living soul in sight.

The scarred man swept one final glance over the area, then vaulted back into the saddle.

"But perhaps this is an opportunity."

He spurred his horse forward.

The paved road ahead led to only one place.

Rome.