Next, the civil guardian read out the bill on the podium was extremely long. After Karabis was full, he took the cup of water handed to him by the boss's wife, touched the shriveled purse, which was about thirty or fifty pieces left in it, and said to himself: "Is this Roman politics? Money and blood?"

"Maybe it was not like this one hundred years, two hundred years or even more, my father once said that when the consuls of the ancient style era, when people played the flute and added their official positions to him, he was still cultivating in the fields. After washing the mud on his feet, he led his army to defeat the invasion of the barbarians. Then he took off his purple robe and returned to the fields again, which was no different from a peasant. The city of Rome is now corrupt, and citizens care not about honor, but about war bringing about war.

Gold and silver, slaves, free bread and prostitutes, and Dinar and Sethusts, who were given away for election fraud and fraud, like you did today, doing well, citizens would only throw tickets on those he thought were worth smashing, politics turned into gambling and war, and there were no politicians on the stage, only winners." The boss laid his hand on the window, as if he was lamenting the prospect of Rome, and as if he was answering Carabis's doubts.

"Citizens, now I ask you, are you willing to make your own decisions on this proposal now?" After reading it, the civilian guardians raised their hands again. Citizens from different groups of 100 people also raised their hands one after another. Then, according to different professions, they walked to the ballot box without a name, and cast the selected pottery pieces engraved in it.

"Are these people the ones who just got the money?" Karabis asked.

"At least, most of them are, and you have to know that today, you are definitely not the only one who does this for your master." The boss lady leaned against the window and said with a smile. "However, the people this time are very different from those in the last citizen meeting. This shows that he has changed the asset certification of many citizens and manipulated the number of people who voted in this vote--Your master Lukulas is indeed the richest person. He should have similar wealth to Crassu. God knows how much he spent for this time!"

"Boss, where is the laundry room?" Karabis raised his purse and sword, stood up and asked, ready to leave.

"This old cloak seems to be worn by soldiers. What else do you want it to do?"

"A souvenir and gift, boss lady."

"Call me Duomuf...Brother, you are so calm in front of me. I guess you have a beautiful wife?" The boss's wife stuck on Karabis. "The laundry room, turn left at the third street intersection, which is larger. If you want me to wash you, I am very happy. I can wash you from head to toe..."

Turning over a fig tree, Karabis saw what the boss lady said about the laundry room. Dozens of female workers in the courtyard were washing hard by the basin. Karabis handed the blood-stained cloak to the receptionist. The receptionist carried something with a strong smell, but there was no surprise at all. Perhaps something like Rome City was used to.

"Ten Seths." The receptionist stretched out his hand.

"Washing a cloak here can give me two good meals, plus a prostitute," Karabis said dissatisfiedly.

The receptionist said angrily: "Your mind is not broken in a foreign land, I hope you can adapt to the prices in Rome as soon as possible. The cheap prostitutes here can be equivalent to two pieces of wheat bread. How can they be compared with washing clothes? You didn't see that we are all purely manual here, and the cost is too expensive." Karabis looked into the courtyard and found that the women and clothes inside were indeed dense.

"Of course, it seems that you have to wash less clothes in the future, and you really can't afford to wash it." Karabis murmured in his heart. He took the stamped piece of pottery and was about to turn around and leave, but he heard the receptionist shouting in a slight voice, "Fan Lundingna, Fan Lundingna, don't wash this cloak with a dead person. Look at you like this, can you suffer two Asi a day? Cumsy, your father is in Adam Qiuba, and his life and death are uncertain. Your mother still has to be a secret prostitute at home. You have to look like a poor girl!"

Hearing this, Karabis felt a little nervous, and then he turned around, pushed away the rows of wet robes and shirts hanging in the yard, and walked to the girl who took the cloak, a brown-haired girl who looked only eleven or twelve years old. As soon as he saw the appearance of Fan Luntingna, Karabis felt at ease, and he said to her, "Is your father from the Seventh Army? His name is Hebrida, the low-ranking centurion."

Fan Luntingna raised her head, and several strands of hair were hanging in front of her forehead. Her childish eyes saw Karabis staring at her. She was so scared that she hugged her cloak and shrank to the corner of the wall, and whispered: "Who are you..."

"Do your family live behind the Flower Temple? Well, Van Lundingana." Karabis continued to step forward.

At dusk, Karabis and Van Lundena came to the back alley of Huashen Temple. In a cold four-story apartment, it was even more desolate than the apartments rented by Karabis and Porti. On the gray ground floor, it was a foster baby raising house. In a row of cabinets against the wall, there were groups of drawers. Many children, dirty children, sat in these same dirty drawers, crying, shouting, and falling asleep. "Whose children are these?"

"The poor, the poorest, just like our family, their parents go out to work and their children stay here." Fan Lundingna's words were somewhat mature that was inconsistent with her age.

Walking the shaking stairs, the two arrived at the home of Fan Luntingna, who was cracked on the walls on the third floor. After knocking, her mother, also Highbrida's wife, opened the door in panic. This was a tall woman with a slightly hooked nose. Seeing Karabis standing aside, holding a short sword in her hand and a blue piercing her arm, she was so scared that she was trembling.

"Don't you invite me in for a drink, ma'am?" Karabis asked leaning against the door.

Karabis's wife walked in like a sieve. Karabis followed in. The room was dark and full of mold. Half of the stove collapsed. All furniture was black and smoked by fireworks. There were rags of ashes piled up in several places on the ground. Then Karabis saw a disheveled man swaying around there, pretending to be an innocent expression. When Karabis saw Karabis, he smiled embarrassedly, and the bed was messy.

"Sorry, there is only salt water." Hebrida's wife was busy on the stove with her back facing Karabis sitting down, but she looked back in horror. Fan Lundingna was very calm and walked to the cradle familiarly, teasing her sister who was crying inside.
Chapter completed!