Sparta: Many childrens, Many Blessings, Starting from the Gladiator

Marcus stood at the door of the small house, watching Sextus being helped down from the carriage.

The old man wore a simple white toga, holding an ivory cane in his hand. Every step was slow but steady.

"You are Marcus?"

Sextus spoke, his voice hoarse but clear.

"It is me, my lord."

Marcus bowed slightly.

Sextus looked him up and down. There was neither appreciation nor disgust in his eyes, only pure scrutiny, as if examining a piece of goods and weighing its value.

"I heard there was a riot at the dock a few days ago. People died and people were injured."

Sextus said slowly. "The Senate is very concerned. Take me to see the scene."

"Yes, my lord."

Marcus led the investigation team — besides Sextus, there were two young scribes and four burly guards — toward the western warehouse area.

The scene had already been cleaned up. The bloodstains were covered with sand, the damaged wooden boxes removed, but the traces of battle remained — deep knife and axe marks on the walls, scattered weapon fragments on the ground, and the hole in the warehouse door that Octavius had smashed through with brute force, looking terrifying.

Sextus inspected it very carefully.

He had the scribes record every mark, and had the guards use rulers to measure the distance and angle of the bolt holes. He was so serious it looked like he was solving a case.

"You said the thugs numbered more than ten?"

Sextus suddenly asked.

"Fifteen, my lord."

"How many people did you bring?"

"Eleven."

"Eleven against fifteen, the other side struck first and even used a crossbow for a sneak attack, yet you won, only lightly injuring two people and completely annihilating the opponent?"

Sextus turned around and stared at Marcus. "This sounds… a bit like a myth."

Marcus remained expressionless. "It is not a myth. It is training and coordination. My people train every day and know how to fight when outnumbered."

"Training…"

Sextus pondered. "I heard that you turned Batiatus's gladiator training ground into… what was it called? A 'Shadow' base? And trained them according to the Roman legion model?"

The news spread really fast.

Marcus sneered inwardly but admitted frankly on the surface: "Yes, my lord. I believe that to manage the dock well, patrols and tax collection alone are not enough. We must have reliable force that can respond quickly when something happens."

"But whose force is this?"

Sextus stared into his eyes and asked word by word, "Yours, or Commander Gracchus's?"

This question was sharp enough.

Marcus answered neither humbly nor arrogantly: "Nominally, it is the dock security team authorized by Lord Gracchus. In reality, this team only listens to my command, but my duty is to maintain dock order, protect legal trade, and combat smuggling and crime — all of which serve Capua and the Senate."

He spoke beautifully, leaving no fault to find.

Sextus did not comment immediately, just nodded and continued inspecting the scene.

After finishing the western area, the old man suddenly said: "Take me to see your training ground."

Marcus's heart tightened, but he could not refuse: "This way please, my lord."

In the training ground, Gisco was leading the Combat Team in shield formation practice.

Nine people formed a tight square, shields locked together, spears like a forest. They moved, turned, and charged neatly according to commands, their roars shaking the sky.

Sextus watched with great focus, not even blinking.

"Stop."

He suddenly spoke.

Gisco stopped the movements and looked at Marcus.

Marcus nodded for them to comply.

Sextus walked to the front of the shield formation and reached out to touch the edge of the shields — they were copper-edged, thick and sturdy.

"Where did these equipment come from?"

"Some were seized, some were purchased ourselves."

Marcus said. "The money came from dock management fees. Every expense has records. Drusus can show you the account books."

Sextus did not look at the account books. Instead, he looked at the faces of the gladiators — now "Shadow" members — one by one.

"You used to all be gladiators?"

"Yes, my lord."

Gisco answered loudly.

"Why did you stay?"

Gisco glanced at Marcus, and after receiving permission, he straightened his back and said: "Because Boss Marcus gave us freedom, gave us dignity, gave us a way to live. We are willing to follow him."

"Willing to die for him?"

"Willing!"

The nine people roared in unison. The momentum startled the two scribes.

Sextus was silent for a while, then turned and left the training ground without saying another word.

Back at the small dock office, he had the scribes and guards wait outside and entered the room alone with Marcus.

"Sit."

Sextus said.

The two sat facing each other. The atmosphere was a bit heavy.

"Marcus, do you know why I came?"

Sextus asked.

"To investigate the dock riot."

"Not only that."

Sextus shook his head. "Senator Valerius accused Commander Gracchus in the Senate of tolerating private armed forces with ill intentions. He said your 'Shadow' is not just a security team, but a private army, aimed at controlling the dock and then the trade lifeline of Capua."

Marcus sneered inwardly — as expected, Valerius had started to counterattack.

"My lord, do you believe this accusation?"

"I don't believe anyone. I only believe evidence."

Sextus said. "But I want to remind you that in Rome, forming armed forces of more than fifty people without Senate approval is a serious crime. How many people do you have now?"

"Eighteen."

Marcus answered honestly. "Including me."

"Eighteen…"

Sextus tapped the table with his finger. "Temporarily still within the limit, but if you continue to expand, it will cause trouble."

"I understand."

"There is one more thing."

Sextus leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Valerius said you are colluding with pirates. The leader of the Sicilian pirates 'Sea Snake', Leta, has been frequently entering and leaving Capua port recently, yet your 'Shadow' never questions it. Is this true?"

Here it came — the most fatal question.

Marcus remained expressionless: "Leta is a legitimate merchant with a trade permit. Her fleet does business in olive oil and wine between Sicily and Capua. These permits were personally approved by Lord Gracchus. As the dock manager, I am only responsible for checking whether the goods are legal and whether there are contraband items. As for whether she is a pirate…"

He paused, then continued: "Unless there is evidence, I cannot refuse a legitimate merchant based on rumors."

Sextus stared at him, as if trying to see through him.

But Marcus was very calm, calm enough that no fault could be found.

"I heard that a few days ago a batch of silk and spices from the East arrived at the port. They were Gracchus's private goods."

Sextus changed the subject. "The tariff on this batch of goods seems to be much lower than the normal rate?"

"That is the senatorial privilege enjoyed by Lord Gracchus."

Marcus said. "According to Roman law, personal trade of the senatorial class can enjoy partial tariff reduction. I only handled it according to the rules."

"Rules…"

Sextus smiled, a faint smile. "Marcus, you are very good at talking and doing things, but I want to remind you that the water in Capua is very deep. The struggle between Gracchus and Valerius is not something you can get involved in. If you stand on the wrong side, you will die miserably."

"Thank you for the reminder, my lord."

Marcus said. "I am only doing my duty."

Sextus stood up, leaning on his cane as he walked out.

"The investigation is temporarily over."

He said. "I will report what I saw to the Senate truthfully, but remember — before my report is submitted, there must be no more chaos at the dock. Otherwise, no matter who is right or wrong, you will be held responsible."

"Understood."

After seeing off the investigation team, Marcus returned to the small house, his face sinking.

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