Reborn In 3rd Century Rome with Future Industry

If Lucius played his hand too aggressively, the Roman legions would descend upon the estate.

If he did nothing, the local blacksmith guilds would bleed his legitimate agricultural front dry, severing the financial lifeline of his shadow empire.

Lucius turned to his scarred Security Chief. "Valerius, you will not march a cohort of armed *Custodes* into Civitas Aurelia. The law explicitly forbids armed troops from operating within the city limits. But the law says absolutely nothing about farmers protecting their cargo with the very tools they intend to sell."

Valerius’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Cassius’s eyes widened as he caught the legal loophole.

"Take forty of your most experienced veterans from the border routes," Lucius commanded. "Strip them of their military armor and their spathas. Dress them in rough linen tunics and woolen cloaks. Tomorrow morning, you will send a second caravan into the commercial district. When the guild thugs attempt to ambush it, your men will defend the carts using our sledgehammers, hoes, and handles. Let the transfer of your men from the border be discreet. I want the guilds to think we are sending another batch of plebeians."

Cassius let out a genuine laugh. "It is brilliant. The city watch cannot arrest us for treason if we are merely using agricultural implements to defend our property from thieves."

"Exactly," Lucius nodded. "Every corrupt merchant keeps a second, hidden set of ledgers. Valerius, while the mob is distracted by the caravan, take your three quietest men and breach the Guild Master’s counting house. Find those black ledgers."

Lucius placed his hands flat on the desk. "We will drag those ledgers into the sunlight. We will hand the provincial tax collectors the exact evidence they need to audit the guild into oblivion. We will make them think twice before ever touching our carts again."

"And the city watch?" Valerius asked. "If they intervene on the guild’s behalf?"

"They won’t," Lucius replied dismissively. "Once we expose the guild’s tax evasion, the magistrates will distance themselves immediately to avoid being dragged down with them."

"With immense pleasure, Dominus," Valerius saluted, striking his chest before spinning on his heel and exiting the study.

...

In the heart of Civitas Aurelia, behind the high walls of a lavish urban domus, Spurius reclined on a dining couch.

As the Guild Master of the city’s primary blacksmith monopoly, he enjoyed a lifestyle that rivaled minor patricians.

Spurius was tossing salted pistachios into his mouth, surrounded by three other influential guild heads.

"I told you the boy was a fool," Spurius boasted, washing the nuts down with a chalice of imported Falernian wine. "One smashed caravan, and they are already hiding behind their walls."

A slightly older man, the head of the Carpenters Guild, shifted on his couch. "Are you certain Cassius will not retaliate, Spurius? The man is an Equestrian. If he petitions the provincial governor..."

Spurius waved a hand. "Let him petition! By the time the bureaucratic scribes in the capital review his complaint, winter will have arrived. We paid the city watch double their usual bribe this morning. If Cassius sends more carts, we smash them. If he sends armed mercenaries, the watch arrests them for breaking the Emperor’s peace."

"And if his estate goes bankrupt?" the youngest merchant asked, his eyes gleaming with greed.

"Then we buy the iron mine from him for a fraction of its true value," Spurius laughed, wiping a drop of wine from his beard. "He took a massive risk trying to bypass us. I do not believe for a second that a poetry-reading patrician like Cassius has the stomach for a street war over a few farming tools."

"Guild Master!"

A panting thug burst into the atrium.

Spurius frowned, annoyed by the interruption. "What is it? Did you find another one of their caravans?"

"Yes, Master Spurius! Two carts just entered the Forum Mercatorum," the thug gasped. "They are loaded with tools. But they barely brought any guards! Just a handful of dirt-scratchers leading the horses."

Spurius turned to the other guild heads, spreading his arms wide. "You see? The fools are desperate for silver! They are trying to sneak a shipment through."

Spurius stood up, adjusting his tunic. "Gather every enforcer we have on the payroll. Bring the dock workers and the gladiators. I want those carts reduced to splinters, and I want the horses slaughtered in the street."

The Forum Mercatorum was unusually quiet...

The civilian shoppers and legitimate merchants had quickly scattered into the alleyways, sensing the impending violence.

In the center of the square, the two carts from Fundus Ferratus were parked.

Valerius stood at the front, dressed in a filthy cloak, leaning on a walking staff.

Around him, a small group of equally ragged men huddled near the wheels.

From all four corners of the forum, Spurius’s mob descended.

Nearly a hundred hardened thugs, armed with clubs, knuckles, and chains, surrounded the carts.

The leader of the mob, an ex-gladiator stepped forward.

He slapped a chain against his palm, grinning at Valerius.

"Well, look at this," the gladiator mocked. "The patrician sent another batch of sheep to the slaughter. Leave the carts, old man. Walk away now, and we might let you keep your teeth."

Valerius raised his head, and a smile stretched across his scarred face.

"Looks like the bait worked perfectly," Valerius said calmly.

The gladiator frowned. "What did you say?"

Valerius dropped his walking staff. He reached beneath his cloak and produced a signaling whistle.

Instantly, the canvas tarps covering the two carts were thrown aside. But there were no plows beneath them.

From the beds of the wagons, twenty battle-hardened veterans vaulted over the sides.

The doors of the surrounding taverns and alleyways burst open. Another twenty veterans poured into the square, cutting off the mob’s escape routes.

They held sledgehammers, crowbars, and scythes.

"Break them," Valerius roared, drawing a sledgehammer from his cloak.

The *Custodes* formed a tight wedge and drove straight into the heart of the mob.

Thugs were screaming, dropping their weapons, and trying to crawl away from the advance of Valerius’s men.

Meanwhile, three streets over, unnoticed amidst the chaos of the forum, a small team of three elite *Custodes* kicked in the back door of Spurius’s private counting house.

They incapacitated the single guard, smashed the locks off the strongboxes, and retrieved a stack of ledgers containing ten years of tax fraud.

By the time the corrupt city watch finally decided to make an appearance in the forum, the battle was over...

Valerius stood in the center of the shattered mob, resting his hammer on his shoulder.

"These bandits attempted to steal our agricultural equipment," Valerius stated loudly, ensuring the gathering crowd of commoners heard every word. "As loyal citizens of Rome, we merely defended our legal property."

The captain of the watch looked at the decimated mob, then at the ’farmers,’ and wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

As the news of the counter-attack spread through Civitas Aurelia, a shockwave ran through the elite circles.

The Blacksmith Guild was paralyzed by imperial audits, their monopoly shattered in a single afternoon.

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