Wooyoung was startled upon his first step into the Roman Empire. The thundering sound of hooves penetrated his skull and the euphoric screams of a crowd of people following right after momentarily numbed Wooyoung's senses. It took him a moment to catch up with his location and clear his befuddled mind.

Wooyoung had walked into the middle of the Circus Maximus. The oblong shape of the track was six times the length of a football field and thousands of people filled the ranks to cheer at the spectacle in their midst. The sandy trail wrapping around the inner isle had become the lane for a chariot race and four dangerously swaying carts pulled by four horses each whizzed across the rounds. They tried to outdo each other, every so often bumping into the brittle opponents to throw them off the track and kill them if successful. Every wagon had one driver who steered the untamed horses on their dangerous route.

Wooyoung's every muscle was tense as he leaned against the door he had come out of - a toilet room, he presumed - and watched two quarrelling carts for a few minutes. Each time their wooden wheels spiked with metal blades to cut into the nearby carts and horses' legs crashed, the small carts nearly toppled over. The deadly game tightened Wooyoung's stomach until he felt he had to vomit.

As his eyes swept over the arena to map out the entirety of the crazed fans, he found the fifth cart. It laid shattered against the wall of the course and blood splattered over the sand in a reminder of the person buried under the destroyed leftovers. Two horses had collapsed without movement and a third still weakly twitched around its bleeding flank. The fourth had broken out of its reins and taken off somewhere.

Saddened by the display, Wooyoung glanced through the crowd. They were frantic with delight, cheering and screaming for the racers to play even more foul. The anticipation tensed their bodies as they just waited for the inevitable to happen. And once it did, they would break out in cheers once more. The twisted pleasure they gained out of the murderous games shone sinisterly in their eyes.

Wooyoung didn't stick around to watch death happen. He located the entrance to the steps leading down from the crowd's ranks in the lowest row. Unseen, he marched through the clamouring crowd and disappeared down the stairs.

A narrow stone staircase with uneven steps led him down to the exit. He passed two guards with their cuirasses made of bronze and blood-red capes and feather decorations they donned on their helmets. They stiffly stared ahead, not minding Wooyoung sneaking out between them with his toga carried over his arm orderly.

Since most Romans currently cheered for their favourite madman and his horse wagon, the surrounding streets of the Circus Maximus were void. Tall buildings engulfed Rome and formed the narrow streets it still had in the future days. Wooyoung evaded the dim alleys that smelled of human excretions and instead wandered the brighter streets. He carried himself with the mighty nobility as a rich Roman lord would. The few working people he passed down the road gawked at him with awe and a dark pondering hidden behind their eyes.

Wooyoung ignored them to march along tall facades. Expensive villas squished against run-down inns out here. Slaves in only skimpy cloths wrapping around their crotches laboured outside in the bright sun and scrubbed the entrances of their lords' houses with dirty water. Their skin glistened in the sun and unruly black locks framed their handsome features.

Since Wooyoung had brought neither slaves nor a guest present for Yunho's lord, he wondered how Yongguk had imagined him to look like a lord. Possibly, he had already led a trail and announced Wooyoung's visit with a letter. Still, Wooyoung speculated if he should buy a goat for a present when he passed the outskirts of a market. The voices of slave sellers praising their ware with inhumane descriptions blended with the bloating of goats and the indignant squawks of chicken.

Since the slave business in Rome was so much more popular than in Babylon, Wooyoung had little interest in the market. Babylon's slaves were most often either war prisoners or men consciously selling their bodies for labour and ownership. In Rome, the slaves ranged from daughters sold as consorts against their will, criminals, people with not enough money to finance their own life and the whole market just for exotic looks (also most often used for sex or to be paraded around.)

While Wooyoung's appearance and rank would protect him from suffering a similar fate, he simply couldn't bear to see the misery in people's eyes as they got paraded around in nothing but chains around their necks to get sold. Back when he had visited the city for school, he had once seen an African man who spoke not a single word of Latin and his confusion about the barbaric practises of this advanced civilisation. From then on Wooyoung had decided that while he wasn't allowed to interrupt, he would at least stay clear of those places to save himself from the upset.

Wooyoung needed a moment to orient himself once he had passed the market. He couldn't see the circus anymore, but the palace hill was a perfect sight from any corner of the city that he could orient himself by. He had to be west of it as of now. Since Yongguk had given him no hints on where to find Yunho and his lord's residency, Wooyoung could only make his rounds and interview passerby. His best bet would be to steer in the direction of the Forum Romanum; the big city centre with a lot of free space for people to pass by daily. The market would also be a good chance, just like in Babylon, but Wooyoung would use that as his last resort. Once he found out where to get the information he needed, he would follow his goal straight on.

As he wandered north along the slopes of the hill that carried the eastern part of the city, Wooyoung quickly listed off the order of Roman emperors in his mind to remember in whose time he had barged. Time-travelling historians had established certain rules concerning tyrants and major historical dictators. They were to practise utmost sensibility when researching historical figures like Emperor Nero or Shiro Ishii and stay for mere hours during infiltration. The more modern the criminal they had to investigate, the tighter strung the security around them, hence posing a higher risk of getting discovered. The concept of time travel would remain a secret to long-dead evildoers, but no institute wanted to risk the lives of their people.

But Wooyoung had visited at a good time. Nero had yet to be born and bathe the Colosseum and the Circus Maximus in the most blood that Rome had seen under a single reign. In the year 294 BC, Rome was under the jurisdiction of Emperor Diocletian, who invented local taxes. Thanks to him, the ancient Romans adopted the wonderful system of taxing the rich since aiding the city with their money was considered a great honour and means of respect for this folk.

The pale facades of the Roman houses passed Wooyoung in his slow trot. He didn't march ahead too brusquely so he wouldn't gather any unwanted attention. Instead, he appreciated the eye for details carved in stone and statues (now of women) that the Romans shared with the Babylonians. Olive trees sat snugly left and right of grand entrances that led to yards first and then the actual gardens. The Mediterranean climate was easier on Wooyoung's health and had the herbs and bushes in those yards flourish.

On his way to the marketplace, Wooyoung got held up by a fruit merchant tucked in a corner of the street. When the woman called out to him the first time, he didn't register she had addressed him. Under snickers, she tried again.

"Over here! The handsome man in the red tunic!"

Only after Wooyoung had absent-mindedly swiped his eyes across the street to spot the man she considered handsome and learn something about Roman beauty standards, he looked down on himself with a start. As he turned in her direction with big eyes, she beckoned him closer with a laugh.

She sat in front of the house she likely lived in at a wobbly table she had put up in front of the door. On a chair beside her, laid a curled up cat hidden partially under a piece of cloth she had been sewing on. The sun warmed its golden brown fur.

"Excuse me, I hadn't expected you to mean me," Wooyoung said with a humble bow as he came to stand in front of her. The woman laughed again.

"Nothing to feel ashamed of! But you should consider your attractiveness. Are you new to Rome? You look around with such wonder, I couldn't help but notice."

Wooyoung gave her a smile even when his brain warned him to be more careful. He shouldn't stand out as a stranger too much, even when his ploy was to be a traveller.

"I am from Faesulum, yes. It's my first time in Rome and I couldn't help myself but marvel at its refinement," Wooyoung grinned. Their conversation elated him. After having seen the screaming masses of blood-thirsty circus onlookers first thing in the morning, he was glad to have found a sane person. If she weren't a vendor, it would have been improper to talk to her as a man with no female companion by his side, but she didn't mind.

"Faesulum! A beautiful place, I heard." She leaned coyly over her table to peer up at him. Without breaking position, Wooyoung nodded.

"Indeed. Rome seemed to be the better place to live than out there in the country, so I came here. The city is so grand."

"It is indeed! There are many things to see. May I interest you in some fruit to eat while you wander?" She gestured over the display of apples, figs, quinces, and berries she had. All were neatly set up in rows aside from the berries that stained wooden bowls with their juices.

"You may. I haven't eaten yet today. What is it you recommend to me?"

She pointed at the heavy yellow fruits to her left. The movement had the cat stir and lick its paw sleepily.

"I plucked these Quinces just a few days ago; they are the freshest and ripest you will find." She took one for Wooyoung to hold and test the sturdiness of the fruit. He squeezed it with a hum of acknowledgement.

"Then please give me two of them and a handful of strawberries," Wooyoung asked. He slipped his hand under his toga to feel for the leather belt he wore strung around his body to carry his bag of coins and the time remote. As she sorted the fruit he had asked for to his edge of the table, he counted his sestertii. Once he had handed her the price she asked for, he plopped the first berry into his mouth. Sweet, it pleased his taste buds.

"Before I leave, do you know a person named Yunho, by any chance? I was supposed to meet him here, but I don't know how to find his house." Sheepish, Wooyoung put the purse away and cradled his fruits to his chest. He watched the cute cat rustle around as she searched for the newest comfortable spot as the sun wandered.

"I don't. Is he a senator?"

"No, he belongs to the household of a historian."

For a moment, she pondered the question. Then she glanced down the street in the direction he had been going.

"I believe the philosopher Linus lives on the Cispius hill. He might be the one you're searching for." She smiled in apology since she didn't know how to help more than that, but Wooyoung smiled at her reassuringly.

"Thank you; I will try my luck there. Have a wonderful day."

"You too, handsome stranger!"

Amused at her enthusiasm, Wooyoung nodded at her again and left the corner of the street. While he walked further towards the centre of the city, he munched on his fresh fruits until their juices dribbled over his chin to coat it with a sugary sweetness.

Soon, Wooyoung got swept away by the main street filled with people in expensive garments and rattling carts on the cobblestones. Muscular slaves carried their lords in litters to visit different places. The swarm was claustrophobic, but Wooyoung flowed with their movement to see where he came out. Here, he could blend in effortlessly and enjoy his fruits.