—Who are you?
—What are you doing here?
While Septimus was sitting at the bakery desk calculating the monthly income, he frowned. Through one of his clones, he saw this body's father causing a scene at the bakery's storefront.
—Who are you, slave? Where is Gryllus? —said Publios, Septimus' father, somewhat angry.
He was a hardened drunk who spent days in taverns and brothels. Every few days he came to the bakery to ask for money. He had taken advantage of a widow, so he had disappeared for days without noticing the change of staff at the bakery.
—Sir, I am the new sales manager of the bakery —replied Septimus' clone, frowning at the scene this senseless father was making.
Publios, somewhat irritated, responded:
—I don't care, slave. Call Septimus right now, I need money.
Upon hearing that statement, Septimus became slightly annoyed. He only had 2,200 denarii from the sale of the three slaves plus the bakery's profits in these days. If his senseless father knew about that money, he would waste it.
—The young master is already coming, sir —replied the clone.
Septimus directed his main body toward the entrance of the bakery.
Upon seeing Septimus, Publios, already impatient, said:
—You brat, who told you that you can buy new slaves? Do you want me to beat you?
Septimus became slightly irritated. Originally, he had forgotten about this father, but now that he was here it was time to settle new and old accounts.
This father was a hardened drinker. Septimus' mother died 3 years ago, which was the reason Septimus was introverted, in addition to the abuse he suffered from his drunken father. When he transmigrated into this body, this drunken father who frequented brothels and taverns did not notice the changes in his son's personality, which was why he was unaware and had little interest in the replacement of the slaves.
Now that you are here, don't think about leaving, Septimus thought coldly.
Although he resisted the idea of killing, he knew that sooner or later he would have to do it.
—Father, I have prepared 500 denarii for you, they are inside the house —said Septimus, gathering courage with a fake smile.
—500 denarii? Hahaha, I warn you, brat, if you trick me I will break your arms —said Publios with a smile as he followed Septimus inside the house.
What he did not notice was that he was being followed by two clones with cold smiles and a rope in their hands.
When Septimus and Publios reached the innermost area of the house, one of the clones approached with the rope, tightly holding his neck, while the other clone held his arms from behind.
Publios, with a face full of panic, began to struggle, looking anxiously at Septimus for help, only to see him with a cold smile on his face.
Septimus, observing how this senseless father stopped struggling, erased his smile and looked at the body seriously. In his previous life he would have had moral burdens when killing a person, but in this era, with lax or nonexistent laws and with his ability, those moral burdens were not a problem.
—There is no good or evil, with the ability I have it is only a matter of time before I form a great family in Rome or a great empire in this era —Septimus said to himself.
That night, a strangled corpse was discreetly thrown into the sewers. In a matter of days it will swell and become unrecognizable, being buried in a mass grave by a corpse collector.
While Septimus was solving the problem, he focused on the three clones in the ludus. He realized that, as a modern person, he had little talent with bladed weapons. Fortunately, with his cloning ability it was equal to multiplying his learning by three, compensating for his deficiencies.
Septimus sighed and thought to himself, if with 30 clones and with experience and learning multiplied by that amount he could not become a legendary gladiator, he would increase the number until he achieved it.
Another week passed.
During this week, Septimus delivered two more clones to the ludus. He also discovered that he could pause the mitosis of the clones in the ludus. Originally he planned to withdraw them to avoid his clones being treated like monsters if they performed mitosis inside the ludus, but upon seeing that he could pause his ability, he avoided inconveniences.
Although having many clones would increase his workforce, self-preservation was his current objective. If he managed to make all his clones have the fighting skill of legendary gladiators, his present and future survival would be guaranteed.
With that thought, Septimus had 8 clones in the bakery and 5 clones in the ludus.
Now he had to earn money. The scarce income of a bakery was barely enough to sustain him.
He could not be too extravagant when using modern methods to earn money. He was only a Roman citizen. If he had too much money, any noble or elite would use their influence to plunder his wealth.
Septimus thought of several modern methods that could generate money, discarding them because he could not protect them from the ambitions of Roman nobles or elites.
—It seems that the only business I can currently operate without attracting too much attention and taking advantage of my clones and future knowledge is the blacksmith shop —Septimus said to himself.
Septimus did not waste time. The next day, 4 of his clones went to look for a place in Capua for the blacksmith shop and to buy the necessary tools.
After two days of work, Septimus set up his small blacksmith shop, spending a total of 1,100 denarii. Although in his previous life he was not a blacksmith, he still retained basic knowledge sufficient to operate the blacksmith shop.
Blacksmithing is a physical and technical job. Septimus assigned three of his clones to the blacksmith shop, planning to gain experience and manufacture weapons and armor for his self-defense.
While Septimus was focused on the blacksmith shop, he suddenly frowned.
A middle-aged obese man was standing at the doors of the blacksmith shop with a friendly smile on his fat face.
—I am the tax collector, call your master —said the fat man.
—The young master is on his way —replied the clone.
20 minutes passed and Septimus approached with a smile.
—Sir Titus, it is an honor to have you in my humble bakery —said Septimus with a smile.
—Young Septimus, I see you are doing well, you have bought a new slave to serve as a salesman —said Titus.
—Sir Titus, you misunderstand me, he is only a vagabond to whom I give work in exchange for food —said Septimus.
—You must strive, young man. If you manage this bakery well you can leave a legacy for your future children —said Titus with a smile.
Septimus nodded.
—Young Septimus, I have come to collect taxes this month, it is 20 denarii. I have also heard that you have opened a blacksmith shop —said Titus with interest.
—It is only a shabby blacksmith shop that I just opened —replied Septimus.
—Very well, I will only charge you 10 denarii for that blacksmith shop, in total it will be 30 denarii —said Titus.
—Very well, they will bring you the money now —said Septimus.
Although he knew he was paying double taxes, it was a normal practice in Rome in this era. In the more distant areas controlled by Rome, taxes were usually 10 times higher.
Seeing the tax collector walk away, Septimus began to plan to look for a small estate outside Rome to buy. With his cloning ability, he had free labor to build a small fortress and produce sugar in small quantities.