"My luck may not be over!" - Philip V, Macedonia, said angrily in the face of the ultimatum of the Roman mission in 185 BC.

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Some things have been updated this morning at noon and will be updated in the evening. There are two normal updates, so please support me. There are some comments in the book review area, Rong Sula will reply to the rest of the past two days if she has time. She is busy at work.

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These words were extremely lethal. When Princia looked at the amber board, there was no signature or seal of Crassus and Caesar. She seemed to understand something in her heart, "Karabis, you mean, Kathirin is about to be finished."

"That's right, no matter what, before I handed this amber board to Cicero, everything was still under my control. My dear Princia, I don't want you to be involved because of Syrah, even Toulus."

"Can you deal with Syra's name?"

"No. Cicero is not a fool." Calabis was very straightforward, "Princia, you know, there is a saying in my hometown - you can't avoid two disasters that come at the same time, but you can choose to endure the lighter one. Besides, there is a better choice now..." After saying that, Calabis gently pushed the amber board to the Roman socialite Queen. Pridea smiled and pointed at herself, "You mean to ask me to go out? Take this thing."

"Yes, I believe you, my dear dance queen." Karabis smiled sly, "Countless political figures are your ministers, not to mention that you are a close friend of Syra. It is more convincing than me to see Cicero with this thing."

"Why..."

"I have known you!" Karabis interrupted the other party, "You have an older brother, a slave of the auction house that was released soon, and he has a son named Horas. Yes, Xiao Horas is the heir you named. You are both his aunt and his guardian. Horas is still young and has just been born, but you spoil him very much and love him. I hope he can join the Greek school in the future and become an elegant and noble person, and will no longer follow the footsteps of you and your brother - I also believe that Xiao Horas has a bright future." After that, Karabis raised a roll of velvet paper and threw it in front of Princia. The chandelier in the tavern also shook slightly with his movements.

Princia picked up the velvet paper and stopped talking. It was a certificate from the Tyranian School of Freedom, and was covered with the Tyranian's ring seal - even though Princia himself did not understand philosophy, the "Queen" still knew what Tyranian's identity and status, as well as his recognition, meant.

"I'm a little unbelievable." I don't know if Princia's words meant how Karabis could get this thing, or if she would betray her own guest of the Invasion.

"Nothing incredible, dear Princia, when you travel like a butterfly at various banquets in Rome, you can't imagine what kind of life I and my woman were living on the battlefield of Xiaoya that day. Tyranian was a friend of suffering to some extent. Yes - we are all people who crawled out of the hell of humble, dirty, and hardship. I vowed to protect everything we have in Rome today! It's not something that someone can take away with just a word, and Kathirin will soon understand this. As for tonight, as long as you nod, everything else will be left to me." As he said, Calabis stood up and clapped his palms. A big man with blond hair and a distorted face with scars walked in.

"Oplik, I heard that you had two fellow villagers who served as tribal envoys. Because of the request for debt relief, they came from Gaul to Rome." Karabis asked the big man.

"Yes, our tribe owes Rome's tax collectors a lot of money, and it's almost impossible to get over it," said Opric, adding, "They have good reasons to hate Rome."

"Very good, this lady's name is Princia. She met a heroic figure named Syra. Liantulus may help your two fellow villagers and their tribesmen in terms of debt." After Karabis said, his eyes staring at Princia who was a little unnatural, until she showed a repentant smile, she also smiled, picked up the wine glass, and collided with everyone.

When he said goodbye, Karabis gently took care of the boss's wife Domus, "Five thousand Drakma, I promised to pay you tomorrow... Also, maybe a few markets in the future, I will rent your tavern to hold an extremely grand farewell party for one of my friends, and you can arrange the staff."

"How many female slaves do you want, how many male slaves do you want?" Duomu Feng asked with his tender big breasts and half open his starry eyes.

"You can do it according to the size of half a hundred men." Karabis instructed and left.

When he left, Capitoer Mountain was shrouded in the morning light, and a few wisps of breakfast smoke rose in the city, and the trumpet on the top of the mountain suddenly rang.

By noon, almost everyone in the whole city of Rome knew the results of divination:

This year's consul election is neither postponed according to Cicero's proposal nor carried out on time without regard to God's will—but is ahead of time and significantly ahead—four market days later, that is, at the end of this summer, the consul of the year must be elected.

Hearing this result, Karabis smiled. This is the "surprise" he gave to Katilin.

This divination result was worse than the postponement of the election that Katilin expected. In these four short market days, he was unable to raise funds for the election and had no time to buy votes through connections. What's more, because he had suffered a lawsuit from the Afiliga merchant group and had a million debt, there would be people at any time to get instructed by political enemies, or to re-propose old things, or to directly sue him in the name of debt collection, which would automatically lose the qualification to run for the consul for the next year.

Even if Katilin could continue to pretend to be calm, his party members could not hold it in.

Teammates who are like pigs are going to take action.

One night a few days later, several close servants of Crasso handed a secret letter to Cicero who was on duty in the Senate in a hurry. Cicero took apart and observed it. The contents of it said that it was a mysterious man who found Crasso's slave in the middle of the night and sent a letter to advise Crasso to leave Rome as soon as possible, because someone was about to conspire to a large arson and massacre, not only to kill all the fathers of the Senate, but also to murder the consul Cicero. He also said that in his apartment and warehouse, someone had hidden the flax, tincture oil, and daggers of the houses, thanks to the loyal administrator who was loyal to him promptly notified him.

After reading the letter, Cicero smiled and said nothing more. Such a thing without a head or tail cannot be used as evidence of him overthrowing Kathirin, but he also knew that Crasso, the old fox in the shadow, had already expressed his attitude.

As for Caesar, everyone knows that he is closer to Crassu now.

This Katilin has been betrayed by everyone.

However, these two guys are actually no different from Kathirin. They are both cancers of the Republic and will have to be eliminated sooner or later. While I was still the consul of the Republic, Cicero cleared his throat and shouted: "Terro..." A personal slave with gray hair and elegant temperament came up.
Chapter completed!