Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!

Evan Kimura, still rattled from his backpedaled lie, shuffled to a scratched-up monitor.

Once he got to it, he extended his arms, grabbed the screen and pulled it closer to him, then tapped nervously at the keyboard.

Lila Torres lingered behind, hands still folded as she continuously glanced at Darren and Amelia then back to Evan, her eyes had questions while being defiant and desperate.

Amelia stood by Darren's side, her notebook clutched like a shield, her earlier flush fading into quiet focus.

Darren's hands stayed in his pockets, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, cutting through Evan's nervous energy. "This is your big work," he said with an impatient tone. "It shouldn't take you this long to pull it up. Show me what you've got, and make it quick."

"Yes. Yes. I got it." Evan nodded, swallowing hard, and pulled up a demo. The screen flickered, then steadied. Then he turned the computer around for Darren to see.

"Here it is!"

Darren looked at Amelia, then they both walked towards the computer, looking at the display on the screen.

It showed a clunky dashboard for a fictional bookstore, graphs plotting inventory trends, red flags marking overstocked titles, and a sidebar predicting customer buys based on two months' data.

It was raw, the interface stuttering like a bad VHS, but the logic underneath gleamed. Numbers aligned with mathematical precision, catching patterns no human clerk could spot.

Seeing this, Darren was instantly intrigued. Maybe this duo had really created something outstanding.

He leaned closer, his system silent but his instincts buzzing. In 2020, he knew how major Neural nets were, but in 2010, they were a science project.

But here they were, bent to serve corner stores, not ivory towers.

Lila spoke up, her voice steadier now, though the circles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion and desperation. "You can see that we're not just talking. Look, it's inventory, yes, but there's more. It learns — sales spikes, seasonal shifts, even weird stuff, like if a local festival tanks demand for coffee. We trained it on real data from a deli down the street. Cut their waste by 12% in a month."

Darren's brow arched, impressed despite himself. "12%?"

Lila looked at the raised brow on his intrigued face. "Yes. 12 percent."

Darren glanced at Amelia, lips pursed as he nodded his head. "Frankly, that's not nothing. It's quite impressive actually. How scalable is it?"

Evan jumped in, eager to recover. "Right now, it's coded for small retail. You know, like books, food, clothes. But Lila made sure the core's flexible. That way, it gives us better servers, we could tweak it for bigger chains, maybe logistics. Problem's the hardware. This junk—" he slapped the monitor, which wobbled— "can't handle more than a few datasets."

Amelia scribbled furiously, her pen scratching as she whispered to Darren, "That's a lean model. If it scales, it could disrupt point-of-sale systems. Big players like Oracle haven't touched this market yet."

"Oracle?" Darren chuckled. "You think far and fast, Amelia."

He then tilted his head both ways in playful thought. "But, I can really see it working."

Darren nodded, his mind racing. He didn't need his system to see the spark here — NeuraNest could be a sleeper hit, a tool to streamline small businesses now.

However, if it became as successful as it could be, many marketing companies, investors, even the Empire Companies would be purchasing the software so they could track trends and make better investments.

This was worth hundreds of millions in the future. Maybe even billions.

But it wasn't polished, and neither were its founders. Evan's greed had already shown, and Lila's edge hinted at pride that could snag a deal.

"So why did you start this?" he asked, shifting his weight, eyes flicking between them. "Was it a school project that you realized had potential? Or was this something you've always been inspired to do?"

Lila's jaw tightened, but she answered, her voice raw. "My dad's got lung cancer. Hospital bills are drowning us. I code at night, between his chemo sessions. This—" she gestured at the screens—"is my way out. For both of us."

Darren nodded once. "Sad story. Doesn't really answer my question."

"It was my idea!" Evan exclaimed, less guarded now. "I was talking to some of my colleagues in the business colleges. They spoke about how easy it would be if there was software that made it easier to predict the growth of stocks and assets. So I thought of NeuraNest there and then. Lila joined in because she was my friend. And so... here we are."

Darren looked at him blankly. Then he turned to Lila. "That true?"

She nodded once. Weakly.

Ding!

┏.....┛

Evan continued. "I bailed on LMU when they said neural nets were a dead end. Parents cut me off, so I'm couch-surfing. We're not here for fame. We just… we know it works."

Darren held their gazes, seeing past the bravado. He knew that grind—nights hunched over a laptop, betting on a future nobody else saw. His system had given him a map, but these two? They were navigating blind, and still hitting targets. That took guts.

"Alright," he said, straightening. "What's your ask?"

Lila and Evan exchanged a glance, a silent negotiation. Evan spoke first, tentative. "$75,000. New servers, a UI coder, nine months to stabilize. We'll give you 12% equity, no more."

Darren's lips twitched, almost a smirk. "You seem to have had that memorized. But hey, what gives now? I thought you said $50,000 to Amelia's former boss. Now it's 75? Pick a number and mean it."

Lila flushed, but held firm. "50 was then. We've burned through savings since. 75's fair for what we're offering."

Amelia leaned in, her voice a murmur. "It's still low for the tech, sir. Equity's tight, but they're green. Unfortunately, they have room to negotiate."

Darren nodded, his thoughts splintering. "You can't just say that in front of them, Amelia."

Her eyes widened. "Oh! I'm sorry!" That was so unlike her that she couldn't even believe she had said that.

"It's fine. The thing is I don't really care how much room they have to negotiate when the room is inside an unstable house." Darren shrugged. "NeuraNest isn't a sure thing. I mean yes, your code is solid, but the market is brutal, and your inexperience could tank it."

He stopped talking for a while to think.

'Yet the potential… if they hit, they could redefine how small businesses run, maybe even feed data to his crypto plays down the line. And by the way, I'll get the weekly quest done in time too so I can focus on other stuff.'

'The system demanded a gem, and this is the closest I've come all day. Still... heck, I'm not signing checks on a vibe.'

He narrowed his eyes at the duo then squared his shoulders.

"I need more," he said, his tone even but unyielding. "Full code breakdown, your data sources, a six-month plan. When I say a six month plan, I want numbers, not promises. Get it to me by noon tomorrow, and I'll consider it. Blow me off, and I'm gone."

Evan's eyes lit up, a grin breaking through. "You're serious? I mean — yes, sir, we'll do it."

Lila nodded, cautious but hopeful. "Noon. You'll have it."

Darren handed Lila a card. It was a fancy dark blue card with Steele Investments embossed with gold. It felt heavy in her hand.

She handed it to Evan. Darren narrowed his eyes at that action.

"Well, don't waste my time," he said, then turned to Amelia. "Let's go."

They climbed the creaky stairs, the basement's mildew giving way to Calivernia's sharp afternoon air. Amelia's heels clicked faster now, her nervousness replaced by a spark of triumph. "I knew they were worth a look," she said, tucking her notebook under her arm. "It's messy, but that demo… you felt it, didn't you?"

"Felt something," Darren admitted, sliding into the Aston Martin.

He didn't say it aloud, but NeuraNest had his attention — not just for the quest, but for what it could mean.

Think of it. A neural net for mom-and-pop shops could be a niche goldmine, and then for major companies?

That was a treasure island!

"Oh, I'm really sorry for blurting that out back there. It was so unprofessional," Amelia mumbled.

"It's fine. You were only trying to impress me. And you have!" He turned on the car. "So let's get on with that gift."

Amelia's eyes snapped open. "Gift?"

Darren looked at her and beamed flirtatiously. "Let's go get lunch."