SATOSHI NAKAMOTO: THE MAN WHO SAVED THE WORLD

SATOSHI NAKAMOTO: THE MAN WHO SAVED THE WORLD

Chapters 1,2,3

Helpless. Hopeless. Two feelings more familiar to Satoshi than his own reflection. It wasn’t even worth recalling all the times in his life when he felt these sensations. He supposed most people felt this way, at least the 99 percent of people who couldn’t afford to control their destinies. Yet, this time was different. So far, Satoshi had been lucky enough to get by in life without relatively few losses. Of course, over the years, he lost friends. In fact, he lost so many friends, he couldn’t even remember half their faces anymore. Each death followed by a week of mourning and then everything returned to normal. No one could waste more than a few days thinking about the dead, not when death was after them too. But this time was not like those times.
Up down…up down… up down… Satoshi watched the man lying on the bed, his chest rising and falling softly. For hours, Satoshi watched the man on the bed sweat, cough, and breathe slowly. Now, it was only a matter of time before the chest would cease to rise and fall. Soon, the only sound in the room would be Satoshi’s own breathing. Death, Satoshi thought to himself. He never really contemplated it before now, just embraced it as a reality. Everyone dies, and if they’re lucky, they died before they had to live, live and suffer. Satoshi had seen countless people suffer and die. Sometimes one without the other and sometimes both. After his parents died, the landlord who owned their small one bedroom apartment kicked him out onto the streets. Without remorse, the old lady who owned the building told him,
“You can’t live here if you got no money to pay me with. This ain’t no charity. You want me to end up dead like your folks? I got my own mouth to feed.” The old lady didn’t even let him take any of his belongings. Nothing to survive with, and nothing to remember his parents. Satoshi knew it was coming. When his mother came home from work the week before, her face was pale and sticky with cold sweat. She coughed heavily, like there was something lodged in her chest that couldn’t get out. The first twenty-four hours, his mother pretended like it was fatigue. He knew better. His father knew better. However, now that she already exposed them to her sickness, there was no point in leaving or trying to send his mother away. He and his father would almost certainly get the sickness too and die by the end of the week. Likely, that was the first time Satoshi felt helpless. Unlike, the wealthy who became sick and simply ordered a personal physician who could cure them within a day, Satoshi’s family was just like the other 99 percent. His family was broke. Satoshi never had medicine before. In fact, he wouldn’t even know where to get medicine. There probably wasn’t a pharmacy within miles. Why would there be? No one in his neighborhood or the next one could afford medicine.
Satoshi’s father became sick just hours after his mother returned. Strangely, Satoshi never fell ill, but over the following week, Satoshi watched as his parents’ conditions grew worse. Before both of them fell unconscious with sickness, the inevitable sign that their time was approaching, his father told him to pack whatever food he could carry into a bag.
“Satoshi,” his father breathed from the pile of blankets on the floor. Beds were just one of the many luxuries his family couldn’t afford. “You will only have a few days before the landlady notices,” his father heaved. His father was talking about after he and his mother died. Satoshi would have two days, maybe three days at best before the landlady noticed no one entering and leaving the apartment. The old lady had been around too long not to know what that meant. It meant someone died, and she had to get whatever occupants were still remaining out so she could move someone new in. Hours later, his parents stopped opening their eyes, stopped moving, and the only thing left was the rise and fall of their chests as they waited for death to claim them.
The landlady walked into the apartment two and a half days later. She walked in with a shotgun loaded, waiting for the remaining occupant to resist. She found Satoshi sitting on the floor next to his parents deceased bodies. The landlady had seen this often enough. Children living inside the small apartments with their parents dead on the floor, trying to hold onto shelter for a few more days before they were kicked-out onto the streets. The old lady felt no sympathy. The times were hard and if she let every orphaned child live for free in her building, she might as well join their parents then and there. Satoshi wasn’t mad at the old woman. How could he be? That’s just how things were.
Satoshi wandered the streets for days, living off the few morsels of food he grabbed from the apartment. He hid during the day from other orphans trying to steal his food and clothes. At night, he walked around near the buildings, trying to find anything someone might have been unfortunate enough to drop. After a week, he could feel death creeping up on him too. His lips turned white from dehydration, his hair began falling out, and every step took more effort than the one before. But he didn’t die. The old man lying on the bed before him found him curled up on the side of a building. The old man took him home to another small apartment a few blocks from his parents. Slowly, the old man nursed him back to health. The old man didn’t have much food or water to spare, so the healing process took weeks, but eventually Satoshi recovered.
However, unlike him, the old man was past healing. The sickness would take him too, just as it took Satoshi’s parents and millions of other lives each year. No one ever came to help. No one ever offered their condolences. Here, everyone lived and died alone. As it had always been.
The rise and fall of the old man’s chest stopped now. Dead, Satoshi thought for a third time. The old man was finally dead. For days of heaving, coughing, and sweating, the old man was finally dead. There was nothing for Satoshi now. Everyone who had ever cared for him was dead. This wasn’t like when his parents died and he immediately thought of survival. He actually felt pain. For the first time, he felt the cold, aching, unbearable feeling of sorrow. He lived with the old man for longer than he had with his parents. There was no one closer to him, and now he was gone. It made him angry. Unlike when the old lady kicked him out on the street, he felt anger. How could the wealthy tycoons sit on their ass while people around them died? This went farther back than just the death of his grandfather. For decades, the wealthy sat in their tall buildings looking out onto the decrepit city, watching it waste away, waiting until they were the only ones left.
According to the old man, things had not always been this way. The old man rambled about a time when people, just like him, went to stores and bought carts of food.
“Back in 2010, when I was just ten years old, my father took me to northern Michigan. Hunters from all over the state came to hunt deer. If someone in our party got one, we skinned it and ate it. We even had leftovers to put in the freezer.” The old man told him once. At the time, it seemed preposterous. Satoshi didn’t think he had ever even seen an animal before. Those died with the sickness too.
In 2030, the banks collapsed. The old man said this happened before, long ago, before even he was born. He said that the two were alike. Back when there was public school, he saw pictures of people standing at the window of skyscrapers getting ready to jump to their death. Just like then, when the banks collapsed this time, people fell from the sky. The old man supposed it was because countries could no longer afford to bail the banks out anymore. After the war in 2001, the banks caught the sickness, much like the one that spread thirty years later. By 2008, the banks were all but dead, and the people soon followed. All except the 1 percent. The 1 percent seemed invincible. The old man said things had always been that way, but until 2008, everyone just accepted it.
After that, the old man would tell him, no one could afford to live anymore. Power began shutting off across the world. Famine struck and claimed millions of lives. Then the sickness came in 2030, and everything had been this way since then.
“If only…” the old man would murmur in the darkness. Satoshi and the old man laid on the floor as soon as it got dark. There was no point to keep moving around, no one had electricity for miles. No running water. There was nothing to do once the dark took over but lay on the floor and listen to each other. “If only… we had seen it sooner. If only, there would have been a way out...none of this would have happened. Can you imagine? Back in the day, you would have gone to school, played with friends, and come home to your parents who would sit down at a table and eat dinner with you. Food by the platefuls.” An old man and his dying dreams, Satoshi would think. “If only there was a way to go back,” those were damn near the last words the old man ever spoke to Satoshi before he died. While time-travel was possible for some, it certainly wasn’t for them. Well, at least, not at that time.

A few years later . . .

“Welcome to Bitonica.” A computerized voice announced over the loudspeaker. Satoshi stood in a large room with dozens of other bodies. Many who were in worse shape than him. Since the old man died, Satoshi managed to keep the apartment by making a deal with the landlord. Satoshi promised to give him food every week as payment. Things were certainly more difficult now that it was only him bringing in food but still two bodies to feed.
The crowd around him were all thin, dirty, and frail looking. But Satoshi hadn’t heard anyone cough yet, which was a good sign. He knew this opportunity was too good to pass up, but with this many bodies in the room, someone was bound to have the sickness. He listened carefully for the first hour they were kept waiting in the room. Although employees in white labcoats took saliva samples from everyone to test for sickness, Satoshi couldn’t be sure they were accurate. There was always a chance that Bitonica was trying to get rid of the 99 percent by infecting people in masses and waiting for them to die. At the first sign of sickness, he would leave.
A few days ago, a public announcement was made in the city. Apparently, a company called to Bitonica needed a few more specialists to work for them and there weren’t enough of the wealthy willing or available to work. It was ironic to Satoshi. Only 1 percent of the population managed to survive without fear, sickness, or suffering, but they were stingy. Families only had one or two children and now the generation before his was becoming old and dying. There weren’t enough bodies to sustain them, and most of the 99 percent lacked any formal education and were useless to everyone but themselves. Since the schools closed down about a decade ago, many of the 99 percent could barely read. That was one of the few requirements for the job, whatever it was, Bitonica had listed. The company was only accepting applicants who could read. Satoshi had to taking a literacy test to even get this far. The test was pretty simple. He had to read a paragraph to one of their hiring administrators and write a few sentences about himself.
Afterward, Satoshi was shuffled into a large room with no windows. In fact there was nothing in the room except for an eight-foot table, two chairs, cameras in the corners, and a two-way mirror on the east side of the room. Satoshi felt uneasy. What could such a plain room be used for on any other day by the largest computer and technology company in the world?
“Thank you all for joining us today.” The voice sounded computerized. The voice made it sound like Bitonica invited the crowd for a friendly get together, instead of what would likely be the most sought after job opening in the city. Satoshi couldn’t be sure how many locations Bitonica had or where else the applicants might have come from. Satoshi doubted that the offer extended outside of the city. Afterall, there wasn’t a sign of civilization for a hundred-miles outside the city, and he doubted anyone like the crowd could travel that far on foot. It was only 99 percenters in the room. Likely, anyone with any kind of money didn’t need whatever dangerous and awful job that Bitonica was surely offering.
“We are pleased you came all this way for us. We will begin the presentation soon.” The room began buzzing with excitement. No one had come in or out of the room for hours. Satoshi began worry about the crowd’s bladder. A few moments later, one of the two doors opened. The other door was on the east side of the room, likely leading to wherever the two-way mirror connected to. In walked a woman, who Satoshi immediately knew was a 1 percenter. She was clean, and stood tall, not slouching with defeat like the rest of them. Her hair was about shoulder-length and brown, she was wearing a black business jacket and dress pants, her black heels clicked loudly through the now silent room as she walked across the white tiled floor.
Everyone watched as she walked to the north side of the room. Following behind her were six well-armed followers. Satoshi wasn’t sure whether they were men or women since they were helmets, glasses, and were covered with thick, black, bullet-proof vests. This woman was probably worried that a riot would break out from anyone that was rejected. She turned to face the crowd and gave a wide, forced smile. Her teeth were shiny white and her lips were painted with dark red lipstick. Satoshi had never seen a woman look so . . . clean. For a moment, anger filled Satoshi. How could this woman dare to give the starving crowd a ridiculous smile? They lived in fear and pain, while she went home to a nice apartment and ate dinner every night until her stomach was full. She got to bathe every morning and eat again. It wasn’t fair. Satoshi shook his head, trying to focus. He wanted this job. He needed this job. He couldn’t waste time hating this woman. If he could manage, by some sliver of luck, to get this job, he would probably be surrounded by 1 percenters, or at least people who lived far better than he, and he would have to get along with them. Satoshi knew that any dissent, any sign of disdain by whoever Bitonica hired, and they would be back on the streets, running from death again.
“Welcome to Bitonica.” The woman parroted the announcement. Satoshi was more convinced that voice before was computerized, since this woman sounded nothing like it. She sounded almost human. “We’re sorry to keep you waiting. As you might have guessed, we had quite a turnout today. Four of our observation rooms are filled with applicants. It took some time to get everyone organized and situated.” FOUR rooms! Satoshi thought bleakly. There must have been at least a hundred people in this room. “My name is Gale Hollings. I am the President of Human Relations at Bitonica. I am in charge of all of our employees, those with us, those we hire, and those that leave.” So this is the woman everyone would be sucking up to and trying to impress with their non-existent skills. “Today, we are looking to welcome a new team to our Computer Programming department.” Satoshi’s heart sank. He had never seen a computer, let alone know how to program one. He didn’t even know what kind of skills a computer programmer needed. For all he knew, computer programming required intense manual labor. Satoshi only knew what computers did and looked like because of some pictures he saw in newspapers that he came across in the trash. His father had one book when he was a child about basic computer skills. His father told him that Satoshi’s grandfather gave it to him before he died from sickness. Someone in their family from long ago had gone to a university when they were still available. Apparently it was pretty common for the public to have at least basic computer skills and Satoshi’s grandfather had taken a class on it. But after that, people began burning books for light and warmth after what had been called the “Zap.” All the electricity had stopped and everything that ran off of it was fried.
The crowd murmured Satoshi’s feelings. “Computers! Like any of us know how to work one of those!” Said a short man next to Satoshi. The man stomped his foot in frustration. The woman didn’t seem at all perturbed by the sudden tension in the room.
“We are aware that many of you lack training in any kind of technology, but that’s okay.” The woman cooed reassuringly. “If selected, Bitonica will provide you with all the formal training that you’ll need. We have several teams at Bitonica who will also assist you.” The crowd almost tangibly relaxed. “However, that is not to say computer programming is easy. Many find it very complicated and difficult, which is why only those we feel are qualified to learn this skill will be selected. Each team consists of five members, both men and women.” Only seven will be hired. Satoshi concluded stoically. Out of maybe more than four-hundred who are here. The woman continued, “So let’s get started shall we? The first round of elimination is easy. In groups of twenty, we will lead you to where our doctors and nurses are waiting. You will each undergo a simple and painless examination. We want to be sure that whoever is hired is in at least acceptable health and can stay with us a long time, if they choose.” Satoshi could have laughed. “Elimination,” “acceptable health,” “if they choose.” Those words were comical. Bitonica wasn’t hiring employees, they were inspecting cattle, cattle with no better choice. “I will see the remainder of you in a short while.”
As soon as the woman left and the sound of her heels could no longer be heard, more “security guards” entered. In fact, twenty entered. Each security guard pointed to someone and said “come with me.” The room slowly emptied out. After an hour, the guards returned, but the people they took were not with them. Satoshi wondered if they had already been eliminated. Now that everyone knew what the guards were doing, they scrambled to be the next selected. Some guards just took whoever approached first, others, like a game, shoved the eager hands away and walked toward the back of the room. Satoshi waited patiently. Eventually, they would come to him, but until then, he just wanted to blend in. Each guard found someone and led them away.
Satoshi was picked during the third round. He followed the guard down hallways with the same white floor tiles and egg colored walls. It was like a maze. Satoshi stuck closely to the guard. He wasn’t sure he could find his way back if he became lost. The guard led him down a hallway with a dozen doors, each exactly like the other. The guard stopped in front of one that was labelled “Medical RM 203.”
“Okay, go inside.” The guard said briskly, as if he was already bored of shepherding around a bunch of nobodies. Satoshi stood there and blinked. His heart began pounding harder in his chest. He felt uneasy. “Well? If you’re not going in then say-so now so that I can take you out of here.” Satoshi gulped and entered.
The room was quite a bit smaller than the one he had come from. It was filled with medical equipment, which Satoshi couldn’t name. In the center of the room was what looked like an oddly shaped bed but for sitting up in. The bed had a cushion covering it and thin white paper on top. As he entered, a man and woman in lab coats turned.
“Name please.” The woman said to Satoshi. She looked tired and agitated. She held a clipboard and pen.
“Um, Satoshi Nakamoto.” Satoshi replied as he shut the door behind him.
“Date of birth?” asked the woman. He man in the other labcoat didn’t even acknowledge Satoshi. He kept his back turned toward a counter with a sink and rummaged in the cabinets above.
“I...don’t know the exact date. But I think I was born in 2070.” The woman noticeably rolled her eyes and wrote it down. It’s not like my parents had a calendar when I was born, or cared what the date was. It didn’t matter! Satoshi wanted to retort, but he remained silent. The man in the lab coat chuckled and turned around. Satoshi couldn’t help himself.
“Something funny to you?” Satoshi was ready to leave right then. Comfortable living be damned. The man smiled.
“No. Forgive me. I could feel the nurse’s eyes roll from over here. This is her first time examining an Other.” The doctor said while he pulled a pair of light blue rubber gloves from his pocket.”
“Other?” Satoshi asked. The nurse hmphed and turned away.
“I guess you would call it a ‘99 percenter.” But statistically, that’s incorrect . . . there is a small percentage who fall somewhere in between.” The man explained putting the gloves on.
“And the rest of us are all the others.” Satoshi said matter-of-factly. The man nodded and said,
“Why don’t you have a seat there and we’ll begin.” The doctor pointed to the bed looking thing in the center of the room.
Satoshi out a sigh of relief as he remained seated, alone in the room now. Everything “checked out,” is what the man who turned out to be the doctor told him. Satoshi learned that the doctor examined 6 other people from the two groups that went before Satoshi. The doctor said only Satoshi and two of the others had passed the physical exam. Of the other three, one of them was too old, nearly forty. The other two were “beyond repairing,” as the doctor put it. Satoshi just nodded when he heard the news. He wasn’t surprised.
“Looks like you’re moving on to the next phase.” The doctor said. The nurse remained silent almost the entire time. Satoshi only heard her speak when she gave him instructions or made a comment to the doctor. “The nurse will take you to where the others are. Good luck.” The doctor said genuinely, if not sympathetically.
Satoshi ended up back in a room that looked identical to the room he started in. He only knew they were different because the table and chairs were slightly more worn looking. The room was half full when he walked in. I guess this is where they ended up.
Two more hours passed. No one left, but a few dozen slowly entered. Satoshi guessed those were the ones who passed from the following rounds after him. The room was filled with excited chatter for making it onto the next round. Gale walked in, her heels still clicking against the tile.
“Good to see everyone again.” She stopped just short of the doorway. “You and another room are those that passed the preliminary health exams. Congratulations for making it to the next round.” Satoshi wanted to roll his eyes. She was congratulating them for not being too old, frail, or among the dying. “Just short of two-hundred applicants remain. I know it’s been a long day. For now, please return home and come back in the morning so we can start round two.” That’s it? Satoshi thought in surprise.
“How long until we know who makes it?” shouted someone from the room. Gale continued to smile.
“I know you all must be very anxious, but with so many applicants, it will take a few days before we narrow it down. But tomorrow we have something to look forward to. If you make it through round two, we will provide you with lunch.” With that, Gale turned and left. Upon hearing that they would receive a free meal, the crowd became loud with happy laughter and excitement. Well, at least if nothing else, I will get food out of this waste of time. Satoshi thought grimly.

Chapter 3: Round 2
Again, Satoshi found himself in the big room with the two-way mirror. Although early in the morning, no one seemed tired. Quite the opposite. Everyone seemed wide awake, anxious or excited, or perhaps both. Whoever makes it through the next round gets food. Satoshi thought, trying not to think about the last time someone gave him food. At the same time, Satoshi was suspicious of anyone who would give them food for nothing in return but a few hours of their time. It felt unnatural.
Click, click, click. Satoshi heard the familiar sound of Gale’s heels. Satoshi turned to face the direction she was walking from. Like yesterday, her hair was brushed, her face looked smooth, healthy, and well rested. Satoshi felt less irritated by her appearance. It seemed like everyone from Bitconica was well-nourished, if not downright healthy. Satoshi tried to suppress any hope that maybe that could be him too. They’re offering a very dangerous thing. There’s almost nothing these people, myself included, wouldn’t do to be fed every day and sleep safely every night.
“Welcome back,” Gale said with a smile. “Today, we begin with round 2. However, I feel we should inform you that last night after the first round, some of the remaining applicants became violent. There were a few fatalities as a result. We disqualified anyone who took part in the altercation. At Bitonica, we will not tolerate acts of violence against each other. This is a company of unity. If anyone in here thinks this will be a problem, we invite you to leave now.” Gale’s smile faltered only momentarily when she spoke. Of course there was more death. You’re offering security, and everyone in this room is a threat to one another. Everyone looked around but no one moved. If anyone was going to kill, they just wouldn’t do it near Bitonica. It’s not like Bitonica would know whether anyone failed to return or why. “Now, let’s talk about round 2. We are going to show you a short presentation as an introduction to computers. After the presentation, we will hand everyone a test that asks about the presentation and questions about the application of the concepts. That will conclude the first part of round 2. The top 100 scores will be taken for the second part of round 2. At that point, each of you will be divided into teams. We will show you another short presentation. Afterwards, you and your group will compete against the other teams to test your ability to apply the concepts you’ve learned in real life. The remaining top 3 teams will move on to tomorrow’s qualification round. Tomorrow will conclude the application process. But we’ll discuss that more once round 2 is complete,” Gale explained. Certainly vague with the information, thought Satoshi. “Now then, if you will please follow the security guards into the next room, we will begin the presentation.”
The presentation was anything but short. Satoshi managed to stay engaged for the first hour, at the second hour, his eyes began wandering around the room to look at the other applicants surrounding him. During the third hour, any residual adrenaline from the morning was gone, and began feeling drowsy. He did his best to listen about computer basics: turning the computer on, turning it off, turning a monitor on, finding the right programs, and typing. By the end of the presentation, Satoshi was practically drooling on himself. When the lights were turned back on, Satoshi woke with a start. Well this can’t be good. Satoshi was certain that he hadn’t paid enough attention to take a test on whatever the video showed, since he’d stopped paying attention so early on.
The applicants were led to yet another room with long tables and chairs. They were instructed to fill every other chair, probably to deter cheating. They were told that each test had 100 questions, and each test had randomized questions in a random order, another method to deter cheating. They would have 90 minutes to complete the test, less than one minute to answer each question. They were told to answer each question the best they could and to guess on the questions where they weren’t sure. When they completed the test, they were to flip their answers over and someone would pick them up.
“Begin,” commanded Gale. Satoshi looked over the first question, “True or False, to use the internet, a computer must be connected to a router that has an internet connection.” True. Satoshi answered. He remembered hearing something from the presentation with those words. Question 2: “ethernet” is a piece of networking technology that allows a person to access the internet from anywhere at anytime, without attachment to a cord.” False. The questions became harder as the test progressed. When time was called, Satoshi had only finished three-fourths of the test, and guessed on the rest of the questions. Well, I guess that’s it. What a waste of time. Satoshi was certain that he would never make it to the next half of the round. As he looked around, it appeared that everyone felt that way too.
The results came back quickly, Satoshi guessed Bitonica had a machine for that too.
“Thank you for your patience.” Gale said, smiling as always. “I will call out the names of those who qualified from this room. Those who do not make it, we thank you for your time and encourage you to apply again if a need ever arises. A security member will escort you out individually.” After yesterday’s fiasco, I’m sure they’re nervous about a riot erupting, Satoshi thought grimly. He wasn’t much of a fighter, and in a confined space like this, he probably wouldn’t make it long during a full out blood-bath. Gale began calling out names, and each name was not Satoshi’s. “Louise Carmichael, Michael Young, Benjamin Wells . . . that is the end of the list. Thank you again, for all those . . .” Satoshi stopped listening, as he guessed, his name wasn’t called. He was disqualified and that was it. Suddenly, a man stood up from the center of the crowd.
“No! This isn’t right! You’re sending us back out there to die!” Everyone turned to face him. The smile on Gale’s face disappeared.
“Sir, I know you’re upset, but this is how the workplace is conducted . . .” The man charged at her. He pulled out a hand-made knife from what looked like a piece of window, wrapped with cloth. He lunged, missing Gale narrowly as a security guard pushed her out of the way. The man scrambled again. Gun shots rang out as the security guards pulled pistols from the holsters. A fog of some sort of gas began leaking through the room. Satoshi coughed as it hit him, it stung his eyes and throat. He could barely breathe. Could barely see. Satoshi covered his mouth with his shirt and sank low to the ground where the gas was thinner. He could still hear gunshots, screams, and shouts. The room grew quiet. Bodies, who were not the man’s lay on the ground. They weren’t moving. Those still standing didn’t move either. “Everyone, please remain calm. We are going to escort you to another room.” Gale announced, her hair disheveled, her eyes wide with panic.
“After today’s events, Bitonica has decided that we will be changing the application process. Rest assured, we will still be selecting applicants, but we see we have misjudged the situation.” Gale tried to regain her smile. Each person was escorted to another room by a separate guard. As Satoshi left, he saw the man who started the chaos; his body was pouring blood from the gunshots, his eyes open as if still clinging to life, but the light was gone. “Tragically, during the prior events, many of our would-be remaining applicants lost their lives. We will be replacing their spot with the next highest scoring applicants. We apologize for the inconvenience and ask everyone to remain calm.” The room roared with fear and excitement. No one thought about the bodies lying lifeless in the next room. There was more important things to think about. There was a renewed sense of hope that they had made it to the next round. “The new qualifying applicants are . . .” Gale read of the names. “Finally, Satoshi Nakamoto.” Satoshi could hardly believe the words he heard. From tragedy, Satoshi received the best news he’d had in a long time. Smiles spread across the room from the applicants who now had a chance at qualifying. One man’s tragedy is another man’s fortune. Satoshi thought matter-of-factly.
For a long time to come, that would be the last time Satoshi would think about the deaths that gave him his great fortune.
To be continued . . .