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

Today was the Pitch Day.

On days like this, the board members of Horizon Strategies and Investments gathered together to listen to ideas, plans and investment strategies that could move the company further.

So, for Tamara, it was a very important day. Despite being the interim CEO, she knew power was not fully in her grasp, and her brother was ready to take it from her.

Many of the board members in fact preferred him to her.

NeuraNest was her chance to sway their opinions and lock in their votes.

The boardroom was a perfectly polished place, with windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

Morning light sprayed inside through these windows, shining light on the long mahogany table that dominated the space.

Surrounding this table were twelve board members in tailored suits, their eyes sharp and expectant.

Tamara Johnstone stood at the head, her cream dress hugging her curves, auburn hair swept into an elegant chignon. Her smile was feminine, practiced, but her fingers tapped the podium — a flicker of the pressure bearing down on her interim CEO title.

Beside her, Evan Kimura fidgeted, wearing a cheap button-up that was too tight at the collar, and a jittery grin on his face.

"Welcome, everyone," Tamara began, maintaining a cutting and formal voice. "As you know, today's a Pitch Day, and I want to use this chance to unveil to you; NeuraNest."

A PowerPoint display started on the screen behind her.

"NeuraNest is a neural network poised to redefine small-business and investment efficiency. This young man to my right is Evan Kimura, its visionary. Allow him to demonstrate."

Evan stepped forward, USB in hand, plugging it into the projector. The PowerPoint display left the screen and lit up again with the NeuraNest code.

"Hello everyone. It is an honor to be amongst you. Uh—" He looked at Tamara who kept a stern face. "Alright, uh, let's dive in."

The demo loaded: a mock florist shop and graphs predicting rose sales, flagging overstocked lilies with 92% accuracy. It was smooth on this scale with 10,000 transactions, Lila's stolen work shining through.

"This is NeuraNest," Evan declared, he was reading straight from the speech Lila had drafted for their joint pitch. "It is an AI neural net software that learns your business — stock, trends, customers — like a brain in your back office. During this process, it saves you thousands, no sweat."

The board leaned in, murmurs rippling. A gray-haired exec, glasses glinting, spoke up. "From what I see, the accuracy's good, but scale? Can it handle a chain?"

Evan's grin faltered, but he rallied, stealing more of Lila's lines. "Yes, it can. NeuraNest is built to grow. Today it functions for mom-and-pop, then tomorrow it works for Target. I designed it that way." His lie hung heavy, but the demo's polish sold it, the code hiding its fatal overfit.

After more explanation, the board members seemed to have at least picked up great interest in the product.

Tamara's smile widened, sensing victory. "Questions?" she asked, praying that there was no doubt. Thankfully, none came, the board — most of them at least — nodded approvingly.

"Then I propose $5 million to accelerate NeuraNest. This will be for servers, coders, and for a beta launch by next week."

Evan's eyes widened as his mind exploded. '$5 million? What the hell?! I'm fucking rich!'

The exec nodded. "Motion approved. Five million, Tamara. You know what this means for you. So don't waste it."

Her shoulders relaxed, a rare crack in her poise. "Thank you," she said, concise, triumph lacing her words. She turned to Evan, her eyes appraising. "Well done, Evan."

"Uh, sure," he stammered, awestruck, pocketing the USB like a trophy.

--------

Hours later, in Horizon's glass-walled lounge, Tamara and Ryan Anders clinked champagne flutes, the city's dusk glow bathing them in gold.

The trademark for NeuraNest had cleared that afternoon — filed at Anders' urging. That meant they'd successfully locked Darren out. He had no chance of claiming Investor's Right or ownership.

Tamara sipped, her sharp features softer with victory. Anders, in a navy suit, leaned back, his hair dropping over his smug face, reserved pride radiating.

"Oh I just wish to see the look on his face when he sees the launch." Anders said, venomous delight in his voice. "Poo poo poor Darren Steele. Scouted a product that is now ours, trademarked and funded. He's got nothing but a basement dream."

Tamara chuckled lightly. "You shouldn't keep saying that around me, you know? Makes me feel that my whole reason for this was to mess with Darren. I hold no ill will for him, truly. He's made a name for himself pretty quickly. But my company needed this. Five million says we're ahead."

Anders chuckled, his eyes glinting. "Well, good for you. As for me, I've got plenty of ill will. Steele's a brat who poached my Amelia and spat on my partnership. This?" He swirled his glass. "This is personal."

Tamara's smile tightened, thinking about the board and her father. "As long as it's profitable," she said, draining her flute. She pulled an envelope from her purse, sliding it to Anders. "For Evan — another $200,000. Push him to scale it fast. I want demos nationwide by Friday."

Anders looked at it. "Why're you giving it to me?"

She sighed. "I don't like the guy. He looks weird, and the more I see him, the more uncertain I feel about this stuff. So... just help me out here."

Anders took the envelope. "Sure."

---

Across town, the Steele Complex's locked lab pulsed with quiet triumph.

"I did it! I did it! It's done!" Lila exclaimed, hitting enter excitedly. "96% accuracy! With the deli dataset, all 20,000 transactions had no hiccups. The UI's smooth, and it easily scales to 100,000. It's complete! I can't believe it!"

Looking at the screen, a smile of satisfaction and relief stretched on Darren's face. He clapped. "Great work, Lila. You're a damn wizard."

"Thank you! Oh my God, I can't believe it!"

Amelia laughed too. "The market's ready as well. It's set at $150 for a license, 4,000 users by Q4, that's a projected $600,000."

Darren nodded. 'Take that, system! I didn't use you at all this time, just math and instinct, and it worked!'

"This is our shot," he said with a low and commanding voice. "Small shops first, then chains. We launch quietly, let the numbers scream."

Lila spun her chair, eyes sparkling. "I can't wait to show Evan. He's gonna flip when he sees this."

Darren's grin faded. He glanced at Amelia, who stilled, catching his shift. "Lila," he called with a serious tone.

The girl stopped celebrating and looked at him. "Eh?"

Darren's eyes narrowed. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Lila blinked, curiosity knitting her brow. "Okay."

She followed him into his office as Amelia watched silently.

-------------

Some minutes later, Lila stepped out of the building itself, her hoodie up, now leaving after the day's job and heading for her hostel.

But, she was unaware of the eyes on her. Across the street, the wiry cameraman in his cheap leather jacket was back again.

He was crouched behind a parked van, his camera trained on her retreating figure.

Click! A shot of her.

Click! A shot of the Complex.

Click! tTe Aston Martin One-77 parked nearby.

Click! Another shot of Lila.

"Try taking it from a lower angle," a voice said behind him.

Van crouched, mindlessly taking the voice's advice as he angled the camera and took another shot.

"No, you're not doing it right," the person said, plucking the camera from his hands. "Let me try."

Van's fingers fumbled, and it was then his mind snapped into the reality of what was happening.

He spun instantly, and right there was Darren Steele — in a dark suit, red tie, and glaring at him indifferently.

Van stumbled back, and with a rush of flaring panic, he began to run. But not long after his feet took speed, he crashed into a wall of muscle — a security guard, bald and stone-faced, blocking his path.

Van fell to the ground.

Dink! Dink! The sound of Darren's approaching footsteps rhymed with his pounding heart.

The young CEO looked down at him and grinned predatorily

"Hey, buddy. Why the rush? I just wanna borrow your lens for a chat — get a better 'shot' of what you're up to."