Chapter 3: Crassus, The Richest Man in Rome (2)
Chapter 3: Crassus, The Richest Man in Rome (2)
“Kyaaa~ this wine is to die for...”
Jae-hoon, now fully adapted to Marcus’s body and life, was enjoying a lavish banquet with his friends.
It’s often said that humans are highly adaptable, quickly adjusting to their circumstances. Initially, Jae-hoon found the ancient world—without the internet and smartphones—stuffy and dull. But in a short time, his perspective changed completely.
The inconveniences of being far from modern civilization soon became bearable. Now, he could indulge in seasonal delicacies without worrying about money, and slaves were always at his side, ready to attend to his every need.
In fact, he felt more comfortable now than he had in modern times.
Of course, Jae-hoon, with his modern sensibilities, never issued harsh commands to his slaves. He felt uneasy dealing with them, but since this was the norm of the era, he complied for the time being.
Jae-hoon didn’t have the sense of justice or initiative to actively protest the ideologies of this time. He was just an ordinary person with no particular desire to challenge the status quo. Instead, he consoled himself by trying to treat the slaves as humanely as possible. This alone led the family slaves to whisper that Marcus had changed.
Marcus no longer abused his slaves or drank to the point of foolishness or unconsciousness. He simply enjoyed hanging out with his friends, drinking enough wine to get moderately drunk, and relishing a sumptuous feast.
Since Crassus tolerated this level of indulgence, Jae-hoon truly enjoyed his new life.
Jae-hoon, now Marcus, was completely captivated by the comforts of his present life.
‘The Parthian war, in which Crassus and Publius die, is still twenty years away. I can prepare countermeasures later, once I’m an adult. For now, I just want to enjoy my life to the fullest.’
Cassius, a close friend of Marcus, poured more wine into an empty glass.
“Let’s have another drink. You’re not drunk yet, are you?”
“Of course not! I can handle this much in one gulp.”
“Oh, just as expected from the eldest son of Crassus!”
As Jae-hoon was about to take another shot of wine, his friends and the slaves lined up behind him, clapping and cheering.
‘Is this heaven?’
These were days of luxury he couldn’t have imagined in his previous life. He found it so satisfying that he believed this was what happiness was all about.
Jae-hoon ended the drinking party before getting too drunk. After making plans to watch a gladiator fight in the amphitheater the next day, he headed back to the mansion with a light step.
The Crassus family mansion was located on Palatine Hill, the most prestigious area among Rome’s seven hills. Though it was situated on high ground, it had abundant water and a refreshing breeze from the Tiber River. Most of Rome's powerful and wealthy families had their mansions on Palatine Hill.
In modern terms, it would be similar to owning a building in Gangnam, Seoul. It was a far cry from his previous life, where even the dream of buying a house in the metropolitan area was out of reach, let alone owning a place in Seoul.
Today's banquet had been held in Suburra, a district where common people lived.
‘Is this what it’s like to be the second generation of a chaebol?’
[TL: “Chaebol” refers to a large family-owned business conglomerate in South Korea.]
Jae-hoon had never seen a chaebol second generation in real life, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief at finding himself among people he had only encountered in dramas.
"Young master, please come this way."
An intelligent-looking Greek youth guided Jae-hoon to a luxurious palanquin. He was Septimus, a freed slave whom Crassus had appointed as his son’s assistant and overseer.
Crassus had many freed slaves due to his involvement in various businesses. Although senators were legally prohibited from engaging in commerce, this rule was often ignored, and most senators conducted business through their agents. Freed slaves were legally free, which made it easy for them to escape if questioned later.
Septimus had impressed Crassus with his quick wit and intelligence, which led to his manumission. His main duties now included educating Marcus and managing any problems or incidents he caused.
At Septimus's invitation to use the palanquin, Jae-hoon shook his head with a smile.
"It's okay. I'm in a good mood today, so I'll walk. Besides, carrying a heavy palanquin must be tiring."
"You needn't worry about me; that's what slaves do. Didn’t you ride a palanquin in the garden before?"
That was the original Marcus's experience, but Jae-hoon found it uncomfortable, so he responded with a light laugh.
"That was because I was immature back then."
"It’s quite touching to see you mature so quickly, from the perspective of your servant."
Jae-hoon lightly laughed off Septimus’s sarcastic comment.
The original Marcus had been somewhat reluctant but avoided mistreating Septimus. As Crassus’s freed slave, Septimus was considered part of the family, and unlike other slaves, he couldn’t be treated carelessly except by the head of the household. Though Marcus had made excuses to keep his distance, Jae-hoon found it fortunate to have a clear-spoken secretary-like person such as Septimus nearby.
"Today is a banquet, tomorrow is a gladiatorial match, and the day after also features a feast. Kiya~ isn’t this like a utopia? Septimus thinks so too, right? This is paradise on earth."
"I don’t know what utopia means, but if you feel that way, then it must be true."
"Yes, yes. Rome is the ideal I’ve been searching for. I plan to live happily like this for the rest of my life."
Jae-hoon hummed a tune and strolled leisurely through the streets of Suburra.
As he walked, basking in happiness, he suddenly heard a crackling sound, and a thick door opened in front of him.
Jae-hoon stopped and looked to see what was happening.
A stocky man appeared through the crack in the door, followed by a burly figure who tossed a sack onto the ground.
Something inside the sack was wriggling, discarded carelessly like garbage.
"What is that? Are there animals in it?"
The sack's contents were still slightly moving.
Jae-hoon frowned and clicked his tongue. Even in modern times, there were people who treated animals cruelly.
Slightly inebriated, Jae-hoon approached the men, debating whether he should reprimand them.
The sound of trudging footsteps echoed through the night streets as the distance between them closed.
As Jae-hoon was about to pass by the sack, he suddenly stopped.
His eyes were drawn to what was spilling out from the unwrapped sack, and he felt something warm brush against his ankle.
A hand, thin and frail like a small branch, was gripping his ankle. Despite its hold, the grip was so weak that he barely noticed it.
The hand belonged to a ten-year-old Thracian girl with almost brown hair. Her eyes were vacant, and her shoulders were covered in bruises.
Her body was clearly malnourished, nearly beyond recognition. It was not an exaggeration to say that only a semblance of life remained in her; she was barely clinging to existence.
The pleasant drunkenness Jae-hoon had felt evaporated instantly at the sight of her suffering.
"What is this...?"
The girl clung desperately to Jae-hoon’s feet. Although he could easily shake her off, her grip seemed more like an obsession than physical strength.
It was clear what kind of obsession it was—an obsession with life itself.
The girl tried to speak but could barely make a sound. Her dry lips moved faintly, and although the sound was nearly imperceptible, to Jae-hoon, it felt like a thunderclap.
"Hey! What are you doing, kid? Do you want to get scolded?"
The stocky man, visibly agitated, shouted and clenched his jaw.
Hearing this, the burly slave standing behind Jae-hoon stepped forward.
"Don’t get involved in other people’s business. Move along, or..."
The man, who had been threatening, fell silent when he saw the line of slaves behind Jae-hoon.
He could infer the rank of the child’s family from the slaves’ physiques and clothing.
Behind Septimus and the slaves, there was even a luxurious palanquin.
The quick-witted man immediately recognized that Jae-hoon’s status was unusual.
"...Are you a noble?"
Even if Jae-hoon were a noble, he didn’t have the right to mistreat commoners at will. In Rome, both patricians and commoners had guaranteed rights.
However, if one belonged to a prestigious and powerful family, it was possible to mistreat others in ways that didn’t overtly break the law.
Even fellow Romans knew better than to challenge a powerful aristocrat.
Jae-hoon, retaining Marcus's memories, was well aware of Rome’s realities. He nodded, adopting Marcus's customary air of arrogance.
"Do you really need to ask? This is why I dislike ignorance. So, what’s your relationship with this child?"
Though he tried to mask it, a hint of anger seeped into the man’s voice. He rubbed his hands together, smiled servilely, and said, "She’s my slave. I was disciplining her because she needed some education."
"Discipline? Is this what you call discipline?" The anger in Jae-hoon’s voice deepened. While he understood that slaves were considered property, the man’s treatment of the child was far beyond what he could accept.
In Rome, it was unusual for someone to react as Jae-hoon did. The treatment of slaves was at the master’s discretion, and it was commonplace for masters to mistreat their slaves without consequence, facing only a monetary loss equal to the slave’s value.
To Jae-hoon, with his modern sensibilities, this was completely unacceptable.
"Is this child being beaten so mercilessly just because she needs 'education'?"
"You have to make them compliant so they don’t cause problems later. The original was decent, but if you enhance it and sell it, you get more than your money’s worth."
The justification was so repugnant that it made Jae-hoon’s ears burn. His expression hardened, and the man began to look embarrassed.
He genuinely didn’t understand why the noble boy was angry. The man’s confusion only made Jae-hoon’s anger simmer down, replaced by a deep-seated hatred.
This hatred wasn’t just directed at the man in front of him, but also at himself. Just moments ago, he had been praising this so-called paradise.
His face reddened with shame.
'Is this a utopia? What nonsense. This is disgusting...'
'If I could, I would beat myself up for what I said earlier.'
The moonlight grew brighter, but the darkness beneath it seemed deeper. Ancient times lacked the productivity of modern eras. To wield enormous wealth like a chaebol in such an era, one inevitably had people suffering beneath them.
Jae-hoon didn’t want to witness their misery.
Having lived a life of poverty, he had been dazzled by the wealth of aristocratic life. In his eyes, the struggling young girl mirrored his own modern self. Had he been born in ancient Rome, his life would have been no different from hers.
"What were you planning to do with this child?"
"Yes? I’ll continue to train and educate her as I have been."
"And what if she dies?"
"I’ve been doing this for a year or two, and I know exactly how long it takes for them to die." The man, sensing a shift in Jae-hoon’s expression, hurriedly added, "This is my property by law. Under Roman law, no nobleman can encroach on a citizen’s property, right? Therefore—"
Jae-hoon, who had stopped moving, asked with an impassive expression, "What?"