The Mad Tycoon of Rome

——Chapter 11: Spartacus (4)——

In the most spacious and splendid room in the Batiatus gladiator training camp, which was only used to welcome VIPs, Marcus was eating fruit in a carefree manner.

But Danae, who was standing behind him, seemed impatient.

"Young Master, wouldn't it be nice if Septimus-Sama was also with you? If anything goes wrong—"

"—If what you are worrying about happens, nothing will change with or without Septimus."

"Still, was there any need to send him out?"

"It's because I don't know what's going to happen. Septimus seems to believe in me now, but he's definitely loyal to my father. I can't have him in a meeting like this until I'm sure he's completely on my side."

Upon hearing that, Danae smiled and wiggled her fingers.

On the interpretation of Marcus' words, it meant that she was fully accepted and Marcus believed in her.

On such a thought, the inside of her chest felt very tickly.

"Then young master, do you plan to make a gladiator named Spartacus yours as well?"

"I'd like to do that if I can. But I think we'll have to talk first before we can judge whether or not I'm worth serving for him."

"If that gladiator has eyes, he would definitely want to serve you."

Marcus smiled and handed Danae a basket of fruit. Without hesitation, she picked up a fruit and brought it to her mouth.

Contrary to Danae's boundless confidence, Marcus was seeing only half the odds.

If he thought about the future, it was a must to recruit physically and militarily superior people.

Marcus could do enough with wealth and politics, but he was not confident in the military aspect.

In order to seize power in Rome, military prowess and military talent were not optional, but essential.

Marius, Sulla, and Caesar, those who stood at the pinnacle of Rome all used the military as a last resort.

A case in which military talent was lacking but still stood at the top was Augustus, but instead, he had confidants to compensate for his shortcomings.

Marcus decided to follow Augustus' method.

If one's own ability was lacking, it was necessary to bring subordinates to fill it.

Spartacus was a symbol of personal might in the military aspect.

Seeing that Caesar died by assassination, the existence of a reliable escort was essential.

Marcus already knew the talented people who would lead the groups beyond the power of individuals but it was not the time to recruit them yet.

In addition, Marcus was confident of recruiting them with 100% probability, but Spartacus' case was a little different. Because Marcus did not know what enmity Spartacus might have with Rome.

'The rebellion of Spartacus is one year from now. There's a good chance his anger is almost at a critical point.'

There was no reason to rebel if one was content with the status quo, hence Marcus reached such a conclusion.

If Spartacus' eyes and ears were blocked with hatred, there was a high possibility that no matter how well Marcus tried to explain, Spartacus would not even hear him.

At that point, it was not a matter of reason, but a matter of emotion.

'In the end, it depends on how much I can free his mind.'

Just as Marcus had sorted out all his thoughts, someone knocked on the door and said.

"May I come in?"

It was a low and blunt voice.

Marcus answered right away.

"It's okay. You can come in."

When permission was given, the door opened and a shillohute of a person appeared.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Spartacus. Did you call me?"

The presence reminiscent of steel had not changed from when Marcus saw him in the arena.

Seeing Spartacus right in front of his eyes, Marcus felt like he would be intimidated if he didn't steel his mind.

"That's true."

"What is the reason? Why did the noble one want to see this lowly slave?"

Spartacus' mouth was smiling, but his eyes were not.

Marcus knew that expression well.

It was just the kind of smile he gave to customers in the past when he was working part-time.

"Lowly slave? Who would dare to disrespect an excellent gladiator like you? Even in Rome, there might not be anyone as skillful as you."

"It's just a skill I developed to survive."

There was not the slightest hint of pride in his voice. He didn't seem to have the pride he should have in having skills that no one else did. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was deep remorse and bitterness.

"You don't seem to like the situation."

"What can I do if I don't like it? Only those who have a choice can have such a mind."

"Even if you can't make a choice, as long as you're alive, anyone can think. I heard that the treatment at the Batiatus training center is not very good. I can understand the complaints of the gladiators."

"There's no such thing. No one is dissatisfied."

Spartacus' voice trembled faintly.

Marcus already began to have some insight into Spartacus' character with just this brief conversation: Spartacus was an honest and tenacious person. Maybe that's why it was hard to hide his true feelings.

Records showed that Spartacus, even during the war, restrained the gladiators from indiscriminate slaughter.

With such a noble character, it would have been even more difficult to endure the current hell-like situation.

"If you're careful not to get into Batiatus' ears, then you don't have to worry about being honest. I'll promise to keep the conversation we have here a complete secret between us. That's why I already sent my attendant out separately as well."

Spartacus' eyes fell upon Danae at Marcus' side.

"But that child—"

"—Oh, this girl is fine. If I tell her to keep it a secret, she won't open her mouth even in front of the archon. Wouldn't you like to eat some fruit instead? It tastes pretty good."

Marcus turned his attention to the fruit basket he had given Danae earlier.

However, he couldn't see where the fruit that had been piled up until now had gone.

Danae blushed and tried to lower her presence as much as possible.

"I'm sorry! I thought I could eat it all and—"

"—Uh... No... It's okay. Hmmm, my actions could have been interpreted that way—"

"—Is that child from Thrace? Close to Greece?"

Spartacus did not listen to Marcus and kept his eyes fixed on Danae.

It was rude, but he didn't seem to be aware that he had done anything wrong.

Marcus was glad that Spartacus had shown interest first, so he didn't point it out.

"That's right. She's from Thrace. Her name is Danae. She's under my protection."

"I see..."

Spartacus' mind was filled with complex emotions.

First of all, it was nice to meet someone from the same neighborhood in an unexpected place. However, he was also angry at the fact that she was living as a slave of the Romans.

However, when he looked closely, there was no negative emotion in the young girl's expression.

'Didn't you just eat all the fruits the owner brought and gave you?'

First, he wondered if she was Marcus' concubine or something, but looking at the age of the two, he didn't think it was like that.

Spartacus asked, still keeping his eyes on Danae.

"Why are you keeping that child with you?"

"I'm learning a lot of things right now. I want to broaden my horizons too. There are some things you can't see just by sitting in front of a desk, after all."

"Education of female slaves?"

"There's no law saying I can't do that, right?"

It was something Spartacus had never heard of. He changed Marcus' evaluation and revised it to a peculiar aristocratic boy.

That's it.

Even if he was an aristocrat who treated slaves well, he was still a Roman aristocrat after all. Because when he grew up he would become no different from most Roman nobles.

Spartacus had seen many such Romans. The stereotypes accumulated so far were not so easy to change.

"... So, what is the candid story that the young master wants to hear from me?"

"To put it bluntly, I want to get you out of here and take you to Rome. I want you to cooperate with the idea I'm drawing. Are you willing to do that?"

"You're saying something strange. If you want that, you'll have to talk to Batiatus, not me. I have no choice."

It was said that slaves cannot choose their own destiny.

If Marcus wanted to take ownership of Spartacus, he must tell his master.

Marcus narrowed his brows and spoke again.

"I will listen to your answer and talk with Batiatus. The important thing is that you are willing to go with me. How is it? Are you willing to leave this place?"

There was an awkward silence for a while. Soon, Spartacus opened his mouth.

"What would you do if I said no?"

"I'll have to try persuasion. I think if you hear my plan, you'll agree too. If you still don't change your mind, I'll give up."

"You won't have to convince me. I'm never going to Rome."

"It's a bit unexpected that you won't even listen to my plan... "

Marcus scratched his head at the refusal, which was more stubborn than expected.

"Can you tell me why?"

"Going to Rome will only make me a spectacle for more and more people."

"You don't want to be a jester to entertain the Romans?"

Spartacus' face hardened like ice. The emotions that he couldn't suppress all came out of his voice.

"It's not a position one would want to be in."

"So you're going to keep confined in this small Capua?"

"Is Rome large? My world is full of cramped training camps and gladiatorial arenas. What would change if I went to Rome? A slightly larger training camp? An arena that can accommodate more people?"

"I have no intention of treating you like that."

"Gibberish!"

Spartacus, unable to hold back his emotions any longer, let out a scream.

Batiatus' command not to be rude had long since faded from his memory.

If he went to Rome, of course, the environment and treatment will be a little better.

However, if he went, he would become a full-fledged slave, and nothing will change in essence. After all, Marcus was a Roman aristocrat. Didn't Spartacus know that Marcus was only looking at him to make money? Spartacus would never sell himself for the mere amusement of the Romans.

"I know what you were thinking. But first, cool your head and listen to my plan. It's not too late to make a decision after that."

"Haah! No matter what kind of flattery you try to boil, I have already made up my mind. I will never give in to the Romans and aristocrats. Even if I fall into slavery, I will not sell my dignity and pride."

"Sigh, that's not the case... "

Spartacus was not in a state where the words could get through his head.

Because Spartacus was not angry with Marcus now. He was instead expressing his anger against Rome itself. This was exactly what Marcus feared.

There is a saying called Heinrich's law.

It is a statistical law that states that before a major event occurs, there are dozens of precursors related to it. The rebellion of Spartacus is no different.

How much resentment and hatred must have accumulated before those emotions broke out in the direct form of rebellion?

Marcus was looking at those emotions right now.

Spartacus saw the shadow of Rome thickly cast behind Marcus.

This was not the kind of rage that a Roman man, and Marcus, a nobleman at that, could calm down.

'Is there no choice but to give up... '

Marcus was confident in persuading Spartacus if he listened to Marcus' plan, but Marcus couldn't communicate with the person who had closed the door to his heart and ears.

Just as Marcus was about to give up his mind, a breakthrough opened in an unexpected place.

Puck!

A sound echoed through the room.

Marcus, as well as Spartacus, who was in the middle of his anger, turned his gaze to the source of the sound.

The source of the noise was a basket rolling at Spartacus' feet.

Danae threw the fruit basket she was holding at him.

"Apologize to the young master, right now! Young master is never like that!"

"...?..."

Danae did not flinch even in front of a man twice her size. She spoke in a faintly trembling voice.

"Of course, most Romans don't see slaves as human beings. But the young master is different. He rescued me and even confronted a fellow Roman, who was beating me to discipline. Besides, he gave me the opportunity to learn all kinds of knowledge that I hadn't been able to even in Thrace."

"It doesn't matter, a slave is a slave."

"Maybe... But even if I'm a slave, my young master always asks for my opinion and respects me. To date, he's never touched my body. He also persuaded me to not become a tool of the master, but to be a human being. Besides, when we went to watch the gladiator fight, he was even worried that I would be uncomfortable. If I didn't want to, he wouldn't have taken me to the competition. But you say he is like other nobles? Please take back your words right away!"

Even though there were tears in her eyes and her voice was trembling, Danae didn't stop. There was not the slightest hint of hesitation or doubt in her eyes. Rather, it was Spartacus who was embarrassed.

"If what you say is true... Yes, that person might be different from other nobles."

"Don't judge the whole world based on your own narrow experience. That's what small people do. You're different."

Danae confidently declared in front of the suspicious Spartacus.

"How can you be sure of that?"

"Because the young master wants to recruit you and the young master is the one who will change this Rome. He will not be corrupted by Rome, but Rome will change along with him."

Her belief was so firm that Spartacus could not think of anything to argue against. What on earth could that girl believe in her master and be so confident?

A crack opened in the heart of Spartacus, which had been hardened.

He looked at Marcus and asked.

"To you, am I... a human?"

His tone had completely changed from earlier.

Marcus answered in a firm voice facing Spartacus.

"Then what are you if you're not a human?"

"I see. You're going to change Rome? Do you think that's possible?"

"If I thought it was impossible, I would have compromised with reality from the start and lived like the other nobles."

"I don't know. I... Sigh, what the hell are you thinking?"

His voice, diminished by sighs and questions, filled the room like fog. And Marcus' voice spread like a ray of light cutting through a dense fog.

"First of all, what I'm trying to do through you is to improve gladiator fights. That's why... "

Upon hearing Marcus' idea, Spartacus was silent for a moment. Soon he raised his head. There was still a mixture of doubt, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes as well.

"Is that really possible? No, isn't it impossible?"

"I'll make it possible if you go to Rome with me."

Marcus's sincere words reached the heart of the devastated Spartacus.

"It doesn't just end there. Improving gladiatorial combat is only a passing point. Not only for me but for you as well. Are you going to spend your whole life as a gladiator confined in a circular arena? Probably not. What I'm trying to do may make many enemies for me. So watch me closely and protect me. Then you can see right next to you the sight of the man you trusted rising to the pinnacle of Rome and changing everything."

Marcus' voice became a promise, and the light in his eyes pierced the darkness in Spartacus's heart.

Rome, a name that was considered only an enemy to Spartacus, now, was trying to become a name that symbolized new challenges and hope.

Seeing Spartacus like this, Marcus realized that it was the moment the first step of his grand plan had begun.