Chapter 59: Trick vs. Trick
The moon was high in the sky, and slaves were walking through Sulla's courtyard.
The most powerful man in the Senate was not as extravagant as his colleagues and would not set up greenhouses to grow flowers in early winter, saving them a lot of time.
All they had to do was clean up the leftover bones as quickly as possible, replace them with freshly baked meat pies, and constantly sweep the floor with clean water to prevent the dirt from disturbing the adults' conversation.
The singing girls and musicians sitting in the front yard were unusually quiet; even the sound of their pianos sounded like the whispers of fairies, unlike the grand and lively dinner parties at other people's homes.
The atmosphere at home has become much colder these days, and they dare not even make a sound.
Yet, looking up, Sulla's expression remained calm. He was discussing a new topic with his friends, without a trace of gloom.
Pasha, Pasha.
A snow-white cat walked along the stone steps, its cheeks held high and a small gold coin tied around its neck. It was clearly the pet of a noble. The slaves swept the corridor, minding their own business, and no one bothered to disturb it.
The kitten ran up the stairs, and as soon as its feet touched the second floor, it immediately rolled under the table and slid under the cover of the tablecloth into the couch.
Old Sura is quite good at hiding things. He especially likes to sit in high places and look down.
When he holds a party, he never stays in the crowd for too long, and he changes seats and goes upstairs from time to time.
While others liked to stack long couches next to the long, rounded couch, he would have liked to have two. Aside from the strong guards behind him, no one else was allowed to get too close; only close associates could get the precious opportunity to toast.
Fortunately, who would doubt a little kitten?
Melia wriggled through the small space, finally squeezing under the low table behind Sura. The cat's tail tucked in. Perfect.
"Sir, should we slow down a bit? The birds we sent out have caught nothing." A young man was speaking, his voice filled with sorrow.
Cat's ears twitched. After so many visits, she'd already understood: these people sent many spies and assassins, but who would have thought that the enemy could be resurrected? It was completely ineffective, and they were already busy catching the "traitor".
Sulla was originally just cautious and careful, and was not considered suspicious among ambitious people. However, Melia's continuous escape made him doubt his life: Among his trusted subordinates... who is loyal?
"The wind has changed." Sura calmly put down the wine glass with the pattern facing outwards, and no slave came to refill the glass.
Who could have imagined that Muala's foolish daughter would transform into a completely different person, possessing connections and visionary ideas? Many wealthy merchants were betting on both sides of the coin, hoping to obtain the buildings and secret recipes they had yet to acquire.
To be more precise: they are just going through the motions.
The money that goes into one's own pocket is the real money. Isn't currying favor with Sulla just about gaining more money and power? But Melia is like an open mine. They envy the gold inside - mining takes time, and who would want this mine to suddenly disappear?
On the other hand, they have fewer and fewer cards to use.
Melia's guards were replaced by a succession of slaves, each increasingly loyal and difficult to bribe. She did have many enemies, but the poorest and most vicious of them were bribed and disappeared.
Those who made money with Melia had tasted the sweetness, and everyone wanted to get involved in the money-making business. Even Sulla had to admit that if there was no previous hatred, he would have chosen to cooperate.
The current situation is very embarrassing. As long as it can be successful, assassination is not a bad idea.
But none of the people sent out succeeded. Melia would strike back in all kinds of unimaginable ways.
The most outrageous incident happened two months ago. He directly gave orders to the assassins in his family. They wouldn't leak the news and turn the tables on him, right?
What happened? As soon as they arrived at the ambush site, there were already twice as many people waiting inside, and they immediately surrounded them! Fortunately, they were dead men, so they didn't betray their master.
At some point, they stopped discussing their plans and started discussing directly how to deal with Melia, even using code words to carefully plan the next step.
Seeing that the assassination attempt was ineffective, what should he do? The suspicion in the eyes of his close associates was gradually deepening.
Maybe in two years... or even less than two years, the people around him will leave for their own benefit.
"Sir, we can't delay any longer! She's very good at currying favor with Caesar!" The woman sitting further to the left said anxiously, "A while ago, she brought a group of people to the mountainside, saying they wanted to build an icehouse for Caesar!"
The atmosphere grew more silent, as everyone in the Senate knew about this.
Caesar loved iced drinks, and although magic existed to create ice, he didn't have the luxury of having his court wizards make them himself. Fortunately, Rome was vast, and there were always high mountains where ice could be stored.
So every summer, when Caesar made his regular tours, he would pass by the mountains where ice was stored, and drink the ice and snow stored in the winter with his soldiers and nobles, pouring sugar and wine on the snow.
Melia heard the news from somewhere and unexpectedly declared that she wanted to build an "ice cellar" that could store ice in the nearby mountains and wanted Caesar to give her a chance to show it.
Caesar chose the address next to his favorite hunting ground with a stroke of his pen.
If the icehouse is successfully built, not only will it please Caesar, but it will also be able to supply a large amount of ice in the summer. Just imagine how huge the profits will be.
You should know that the original mountain snow ice drink had strict location restrictions. It was considered good if a little bit of the ice stored ten times the amount could be melted. There was no ice drink for sale on the market!
Sura pondered for a moment, then glanced at the empty wine glass in front of him. "We really can't put it off any longer. This winter...it has to be resolved."
"Great idea!"
"Without further delay, we will succeed!"
The others clinked their glasses, as if they had gained new strength from Sura's affirmation.
"How's the contract going?"
"Don't worry, it's flawless~"
The little white cat hid under the table and listened for a long time, but there was no useful information.
[So they set the time to file their complaint with Caesar very soon.] She wagged her tail. According to current rules, debt disputes involving the deceased should not be handled during the New Year.
Since the amount was so large that it alarmed Caesar, the monarch's word was final. With the royal family on the side, the arbitration result, once established, could not be changed.
This double-edged sword hung over Sulla and her head. She might lose a large amount of wealth in one breath, and if Sulla went too far and revealed his true identity, he would be killed with a sword.
The banquet ended, and Sura, surrounded by a group of slaves, entered the bedroom and locked the door. The little white cat shook its fur and gradually dissipated into a wisp of white mist.
…
"Miranda~Are you still awake?"
The white cat jumped down from the archway. There were no ruins nearby. Rows of houses were neatly placed nearby.
"Awake."
Miranda poked her head out of the house. Her schedule was different from others. She ate eight meals a day and only needed to sleep three hours.
Melia jumped onto her shoulders and the two of them entered the room together. Bookshelves were everywhere, with layers of account books. Miranda pulled out a book at random and opened it under her prodding.
"Meow, very good, meow~ This fake account book is more real than the real one!" Melia clapped her paws in admiration. It listed the costs and profits of each transaction in great detail - hehehe, even the resources without capital in Shadow Roma were calculated at market prices!
If calculated according to Roman market prices, many industries would not be profitable at all. After all, Melia would pay the slaves "extra" wages. Wages were not bonuses; they had to be paid daily, which added up to a considerable expense.
Aside from the gold mines for fishing, it was hard to tell what industries Sulla wanted. So she came up with a simple and crude response: What do your real Roman resources have to do with my shadow Rome?
No matter which property contracts Sulla forged, a final check revealed: Oh my god, there was no money to be made. What? You want my profit? How can there be profit without profit?
Do you have the contracts for these "employees"? No? Sorry! I'll give you this blank piece of land. Don't forget to settle my management fees and return the money I contributed.
Humph, although some stores will still be lost, it is not worth mentioning compared to the risks Sura takes.
Yawn~ The little white cat smiled and used its tail to circle a biscuit and stuffed it into Miranda's hand, then disappeared into the air again.
When the last wisp of white mist dissipated, Misha poked her head out from behind the sofa and said, "That was a close call. Meimei almost saw us."
"Well, let's continue. Mr. Pardos said that adding lotus seeds to the dried powder would make it more effective than the original potion." Miranda walked to the table, pulled out a jar, and expertly cut open her arm with a knife. Pale blue blood poured into the jar and quickly solidified into a gelatinous substance.
"Okay, don't put so much in. It might affect your health." Misha picked up the jar and put it aside. Even with the kitten god's blessing, humans still need their own strength.
There are some unusual movements from the guys at the mine, and we can't let them ruin Meimei's plan.
......
Melia woke up to the sound of a gentle breeze: the maids had moved her to a couch in the courtyard, which was surrounded by a warming tent, leaving only one side open for ventilation.
It’s true, taking a nap under a quilt in early winter has its own unique charm. It’s so comfortable that you don’t want to get up.
As soon as she yawned, Mili stuffed the toothbrush in, and a cool mint flavor spread in her mouth.
"Gulp, gurp, gurp, I brushed my teeth this morning..."
Melia closed her eyes helplessly, letting them help her change her clothes and symbolically putting on her shoes. She'd said it a thousand times that she had hands and feet, but without the aura of the original owner, no one paid any attention.
I originally thought that after a few months of salary, some people would voluntarily resign: having to do homework and work every week must be extremely uncomfortable, right?
Unexpectedly, after a few months, the old slaves were happily saving money, and the new ones were actively attending classes and eating, but they did not mention the matter of redeeming their freedom.
As expected, as long as the social environment doesn't change dramatically, they'll definitely think that this place provides food and shelter, and they won't want to leave. Once Sura's hurdle is over, how can we change things?
Ani came over quickly, almost making a sound like the wind: "Master, Prince Titus is waiting for you outside."
"Titus's guards again. Tell him I'm not here... What?! Titus himself is here?!"
"Yes, Master."
"What's going on—meow!"
Melia banged her head against the pillar. What the hell was wrong with Titus, coming over to play with her? They weren't that close, were they?
Although Titus's estate was right next to hers, the two families had no conflict of interest and she had rejected all previous invitations, so why was he coming here?
[Would you like to imitate Antonio and propose passionately?]
Melia shook her shoulders and rolled off the couch: "I'll go see him now."
There was no other way. The prince had come in person, and to be perfunctory would be disrespectful to Caesar. She had tried every possible means to win Caesar's support, and she couldn't let him down here.
The maids opened the courtyard gate from both sides, and Titus sat on a large dark brown horse, his legs looking a little short.
He smiled warmly, very much like Marcus. "Meliya, long time no see. I held a hunting party that lasted for several days. Guess who didn't come?"
Uh, because I wasn't invited? No, it seems I did get an invitation a few days ago, but I just declined it as a routine matter.
Melia was about to find an excuse to decline, but he pointed behind him and said, "Your friends are all here. Ilitta didn't come with you. She's resting in the manor. Look, Gellius and Antonio are behind us. You won't suspect me of any bad intentions, will you?"
Wait, Antonio's here too?! He hasn't returned to Greece yet... He's confirmed the proton rumors. Melia felt uneasy at the thought of everyone gossiping about him and Elena.
She bit her lip anxiously: "Antonio...Is Elena here too?"
"Of course, they are now——"
“I’ll go!”
Melia stamped her foot vigorously: "Taffy, bring my horse!"
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