In the middle of the night, as I was drowning in my research, searching ever further, ever deeper, into the bowels of the Nakamoto mystery, I was struck by the incessant sound of my keyboard. This noise, dry and repetitive, seemed to resonate in the darkness of my office, like the sinister beating of the wings of an invisible crow. Each key pressed was a question, a supposition, a suspicion. An echo of that despair that sets in when the investigation goes round in circles.
Snap… snap… snap… It’s not the song of a doomed raven, but that of my keyboard, mocking me with every keystroke, every failed attempt to unravel the mystery. In the cold glow of the screen, Satoshi Nakamoto’s face remains absent, a blurry silhouette that dissipates as I try to approach him.
And then a new lead emerges, cold and sharp as a knife blade. A name that, by itself, evokes violence, corruption, and madness. Paul Le Roux. A high-flying criminal, a master of organized crime, who seems to have come straight out of a nightmare. A man whose hands are stained with blood and betrayal, and yet, a man of genius, a brilliant coder, a seasoned poker player. And this name that emerges from the darkness: Solotshi, an identity that strangely resonates with Satoshi. A coincidence too perfect not to arouse my suspicions.
I delve back into my notes, searching the dark corners of Le Roux’s life. He had the skills, the technical knowledge needed to design Bitcoin. A brilliant but misguided mind, capable of complex maneuvers and large-scale manipulation. Anything could fit. But that’s not all. Le Roux shared another passion with Satoshi: poker. The same taste for cold calculations, for implacable strategy. Yet, despite these disturbing similarities, an inner voice whispers to me that something is wrong. The man I discover in these reports, this ruthless being, hungry for power and control, seems the opposite of the image of Satoshi. Nakamoto, with his utopian vision, his desire to create a free, decentralized currency, seemed driven by ideals. Le Roux, on the other hand, is not an idealist. He is calculating, cruel, capable of the worst.
But am I letting myself be blinded by my own prejudices? After all, who really knows what Satoshi thinks, what he is, deep down? Maybe the image he left is just a mask, a facade behind which hides a much darker reality. Or maybe this lead, like so many others before it, is just another decoy, an illusion in this endless labyrinth. I close the Le Roux file with a mixture of frustration and resignation. The lead seemed promising, but it only leads me further into the shadows. Another dead end, another disappointment. This mystery is a bottomless pit, each answer is just a new question, each step forward is just another step into the darkness.
The investigation is far from over, and the truth, if it exists, continues to elude me, slipping away from under my feet like a ghost. But I won’t give up. Not yet. Not until I’ve explored every lead, probed every nook and cranny of this infernal enigma.
To be continued…
Disclaimer: This text is a work of fiction-reality. Everything written here is based on real events, but told in a way that resembles a detective novel. Although real names are mentioned, the story aims to explore the mystery of Satoshi Nakamoto through the prism of a fictional investigation.
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