Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin! Chapter 231: In Berlin

The air in Berlin was sharp, carrying the bite of late winter as Darren and Rachel stepped out of a black sedan onto a narrow street in Kreuzberg.

"This cold in March," Rachel muttered through a shiver, clutching her elbows.

The neighborhood they were in was a shadow of its forr self, a once-thriving hub for hackers and darknet pioneers now reduced to crumbling storefronts and faded graffiti.

Darren narrowed his eyes, icy wind whipping at his face and his fur coat. Through the small blizzard, he saw the cybercafé they were headed for.

It was a relic. A true fit for the na. The neon sign hanging on its roof was long burned out, and the windows boarded up with warped plywood.

"Co on," Darren said to Rachel, waiting for her to catch up. "Let's go."

Inside, the air was stale, thick with the sll of dust and forgotten electronics. Rows of ancient desktop PCs were placed on the walls, their monitors dark and coated in gri.

Darren moved with purpose, his footsteps muffled by the threadbare carpet. Rachel followed, her laptop bag slung over one shoulder, her eyes scanning the room for anything out of place.

They weren't alone.

An old German hacker, known only as Klaus, waited in the corner, his gaunt fra hunched over a cracked plastic chair. His eyes, sharp despite his age, flicked up as Darren approached. "Aricans," Klaus muttered, his voice gravelly, accented with the clipped precision of soone who'd spent decades hiding behind aliases. "You're late."

"Traffic," Darren replied, his tone neutral.

Klaus gave Darren a quick once over, then picked his nose. "Didn't know the clouds were busy at this ti of the day."

Rachel squeezed her face in disgust.

Darren didn't respond to that. He slid into the chair opposite Klaus, his posture relaxed but alert. "You have what I asked for?"

Klaus snorted, a dry, humorless sound. "Hah! Just like Aricans, y'know. You think it's that easy? Information like this doesn't co cheap." He slid a small, encrypted drive across the table, its casing scratched and worn.

"NakamuraGhost was a careful fuck. Paranoid. But he left traces. That's got three words of a twelve-word seed phrase. Part of his wallet."

Darren's fingers closed around the drive, his expression unreadable. "Three words isn't enough."

"Greedy bastard. Don't you see that it's a start," Klaus said, leaning back. "You want more, you'll need to trade. I know you've got dirt from the Silk Road days. Sothing juicy. Give it up, and I'll point you to the next piece."

Darren considered, his eyes flicking to Rachel. She gave a subtle nod, already pulling up a file on her laptop; an encrypted archive of old darknet transactions, nothing critical but valuable enough to barter.

Klaus grinned hungrily at what he saw. "Deal," he said, grabbing the USB Darren slid across the table.

He plugged it into a battered laptop, his fingers moving with surprising speed. After a mont, he nodded.

"Check the safehouse on Müllerstrasse. Flat 3B. NakamuraGhost used it under the na 'Shade.' There's a tower PC in there, gutted but not empty. You'll find sothing."

"What about you?" Darren asked.

"Huh?" The Russian looked at him. "What you an?"

"Why aren't you going for the Bitcoin?"

Klaus stared at Darren like he had grown a second head before erupting into laughter. "Why would I care for air money? You give this that I want, I help you find air money. Too much stress for money that isn't real."

Darren stood still for a mont, watching the happy man before scoffing and walking away.

"Ignorance is bliss."

As they left the café, Rachel pointed sothing out. "Yuck. Did not like that guy."

Darren glanced at her. "Is that what you wanted to say?"

"Not just that. But I think he's two timing us."

"Of course he is. Even if it's 'air money', Bitcoin is valued at $4 right now. Which ans that Bitcoin is worth $4 million dollars."

"You didn't ask to, but I checked the security logs while you were talking. Sothing I learnt from Kara. Soone else was here. Recently. And he sold them this information too."

Darren's jaw tightened, but he kept his pace steady. "Guess we have competition, then. Co on, Miss Teschmacher, move your ass."

Rachel smiled and huddled after him.

The safehouse on Müllerstrasse was a crumbling tenent, its hallways narrow and reeking of mildew.

Flat 3B was locked, but Rachel's lockpicking tools made short work of the rusted deadbolt. Inside, the air was heavy, the furniture sparse and coated in dust. A single tower PC sat in the corner, its casing cracked and partially disassembled. Rachel knelt beside it, her fingers deftly prying open the side panel. After a mont, she pulled out a small USB drive, its surface scratched but intact.

"Got it," she said, plugging it into her laptop. The decryption took minutes, the screen flashing as it processed. When the results appeared, Rachel's breath caught. "Three more words. We're at six out of twelve."

Darren's eyes narrowed. "Halfway there," he said. "Where's the next piece?"

Rachel's fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up tadata from the drive. "Romania," she said. "Cluj-Napoca. NakamuraGhost had a backup server there."

Darren exhaled and turned around, marching out of the building. "I'm going to be jet lagged after this, aren't I?"

-----

They got in the jet again.

At night, the Razor was quieter.

Outside, the stars pressed against the windows like forgotten codes waiting to be cracked. Below, the dark expanse of Eastern Europe stretched out, dotted with the faintest signs of civilization.

Rachel leaned her head back, yawning softly. Her jacket was draped across her lap, and her laptop lay closed this ti — for once.

Darren stood by the minibar, swirling a glass of amber liquid. Not whiskey. Apple juice. Sothing about the scent of alcohol mid-hunt felt… premature.

"You know," Rachel said, eyeing the drink, "I thought drinks were happening after Berlin."

Darren glanced back, lifting the glass with a mild smirk. "This doesn't count."

"Still looks like gloating to ."

He returned to his seat, setting the glass down without taking a sip. "I'm not celebrating anything yet. Berlin gave us the middle. We're still missing the ending."

Rachel nodded, pushing strands of hair behind her ear. "You think the USB in Romania will have the rest?"

"I think," he said, crossing one leg over the other, "that NakamuraGhost was the kind of man who didn't put all his trust in a single vault. Romania will have sothing — whether it's the rest of the phrase or just another key to chase."

A beat passed.

Then Darren picked up the glass and raised it slightly toward her.

"After Romania," he said. "Maybe. If no one dies."

Rachel chuckled. "That's comforting."