Chapter 4:
The morning after the match at the Circus Maximus, Rome buzzed with whispers of Lucius's strange new sport. Merchants argued over the rules in the Forum. Children kicked makeshift balls through narrow alleyways. Even the bathhouses echoed with debates about whether football could ever rival the glory of the gladiatorial games.
Lucius, however, had no time to bask in his small victory.
Senator Gallus had granted him temporary use of a vacant lot near the Aventine Hill—a dusty, uneven stretch of land far from the grandeur of the Circus, but it was a start. With the system's blueprints in hand and a growing number of curious volunteers, Lucius set to work.
The laborers—mostly freedmen and plebeians drawn by the promise of wages—eyed the plans skeptically.
"A stadium?" asked one grizzled worker, scratching his beard. "Like the Colosseum?"
"Similar, but different," Lucius explained. "No sand. No death. Just grass, goals, and glory."
The men exchanged glances. Grass inside a stadium? Madness. But coin was coin, and soon, shovels bit into earth, stones were laid, and the skeleton of Rome's first true football arena began to rise.
Cassius, leaning on a wooden staff, watched the progress with a smirk. "You realize the mob will tear this apart if they get bored?"
Lucius wiped sweat from his brow. "Then we'll make sure they don't."
Recruiting players was the next challenge. The gladiators had been a temporary solution, but if football was to thrive, it needed men who lived for the game—not the blade.
Lucius posted notices across the city:
*"Seeking the fastest, the cleverest, the most determined. No experience necessary. Only heart."*
To his surprise, dozens answered the call. Young men from the Subura's slums, burly dockworkers from Ostia, even a few disgraced athletes who had once raced chariots. They came for coin, for fame, or simply for something new.
Lucius lined them up on the half-finished pitch.
"Football isn't about strength alone," he declared. "It's about vision. About knowing where the ball will be before it gets there."
He demonstrated—dribbling, passing, feinting. The recruits watched, some with awe, others with confusion.
One young man, a wiry Greek named Nikias, stepped forward. "So it's like… war without swords?"
Lucius grinned. "Exactly."
Not everyone was pleased with football's rise.
Decimus, Senator Gallus's nephew, made his disdain known at every opportunity. He stood at the edges of the construction site, arms crossed, lips curled.
"This will never last," he sneered one afternoon. "Rome craves blood, not sport."
Lucius kept his tone light. "Then why are you always watching?"
Decimus's glare could have melted stone.
More dangerous than his contempt, however, were the bookmakers and lanistas—men who had grown rich on the gladiatorial games. They saw football as a threat, and where threats existed in Rome, knives often followed.
Lucius began traveling with a bodyguard.
...
A month later, the stadium—crude but functional—was ready.
Lucius named it *Campum Ludus*—the Field of Play.
The inaugural match would pit his newly trained team, *FC Roma*, against a squad of legionnaires who had taken up the game during their downtime. Word had spread, and by midday, thousands packed the wooden stands.
Senator Gallus arrived in a litter, his toga pristine, his expression unreadable. Decimus lingered at his side, eyes sharp as daggers.
Lucius addressed the crowd. "Today, you witness the future! No slaves, no death—just skill, just sport!"
The crowd murmured, intrigued but not yet convinced.
Then the whistle blew.
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The match was far from perfect. Players collided. Passes went astray. At one point, a legionnaire picked up the ball and *threw* it, earning a roar of laughter from the spectators.
But then—magic.
Nikias, the Greek recruit, weaved through three defenders, his feet a blur. With a flick of his ankle, he sent the ball soaring into the net.
The stadium erupted.
Men leaped to their feet. Strangers embraced. Even Decimus, for a fleeting moment, looked impressed.
By the final whistle, the score was 3-2, and the crowd was chanting:
"FOOT-BALL! FOOT-BALL!"
That night, the system's voice echoed in Lucius's mind.
[Objective Complete: First League Established. Reward: Political Influence Unlocked.]
A scroll materialized on his desk—a list of names. Senators, merchants, and even a few patrician women who had taken an interest in the game. Potential allies.
Lucius smiled.
Football had taken root in Rome.
Now, it was time to make it unstoppable.
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