Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 237: Bitcoin Hunter

"So you give me the wallet, eh?" the patriarch asked. Not in a suggestive manner.

At this point, the air in the Lotus Triad's private room was extremely thick, and the light from the chandelier only seemed to

be pointing at the barrels of ten rifles and pistols aimed at Darren and Rachel.

The faint floral scent, like rotting lotus blossoms, clung to every breath, heavy with the weight of danger.

Even with the guns pointed at him, Darren stood tall, his wrists still bound in cuffs, the cold wallet pressed against his chest inside his tux.

His face was a mask of calm, his eyes steady, locked on the patriarch, Viktor Dragomir. Being calm and collected was an intentional move by Darren. He couldn't afford to lose his cool— not now, not with Rachel trembling beside him and death staring them down.

A single misstep could end them both.

"It's in my chest pocket," he said, sweeping his gaze through the room knowingly.

The guns lowered and Viktor signaled someone to retrieve it.

Carefully, one man — the one with the lotus tattoo on his neck — approached Darren, and as he made sure to maintain eye contact, he took out the cold steel card from Darren's pocket.

He showed it to Viktor who nodded and then he retreated to his earlier position.

Darren still stayed calm, his focus razor-sharp. Across the room, the Romanian girl from Cluj-Napoca stood beside the scarred man. Her face was unreadable, but she couldn't take her eyes off Darren.

And for her gaze, there was something in it —curiosity, most likely, intrigue or awe — that made her pulse tick faster. Darren caught her stare, then flicked his eyes back to Viktor when she looked away.

"This is not really fair, don't you think?" he said. "We do all the work and then you steal from us?"

Viktor leaned forward in his high-backed chair, his silver hair gleaming under the chandelier, his gray eyes cold as steel. "Steal from you?" he scoffed, his Romanian accent twisting the words. "That wallet belongs to us."

Darren grimaced. "What?"

"Skinner was family. He worked for the Lotus Triad. His Bitcoins are ours by right."

Darren's lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close. His system hummed faintly in his earpiece, a notification flickering in his vision: ┏Passive Skill: Command Aura Activated.┛

With every word he spoke, an invisible weight settled over the room, drawing eyes, sharpening attention. His voice carried a quiet authority, like a general on a battlefield, making even the gunmen shift slightly, their grips tightening.

"As long as it's not in a will of any kind, you can't really lay claim to it, so it's not really yours, is it?" he said, his tone even and deliberate.

Viktor kissed his teeth. "You talk smart for a child."

"Mhm." Darren ignored that. "Funny how you weren't able to decipher the wallet that is apparently yours. And you waited till we did."

Rachel looked at him, confused. "Darren, do you know who these people are?"

Darren didn't answer that. "I'll give you five million dollars for the wallet. Bitcoin's at $4 a coin right now. That's more than fair."

Viktor's face didn't flicker, his gaze impassive, like a stone wall. "Five million?" he said, his voice dripping with hidden surprise.

Everyone shared quiet glances. The man with the card girl leaned in and whispered to Viktor's ear.

After, Viktor took a smoke from his cigar and exhaled. "I am suspicious of you, American. Such a high price for digital money. Almost makes us want to keep it even more."

Darren's eyes narrowed, but his calm held, his Command Aura pulsing, pulling the room's focus tighter. He caught the Romanian girl's gaze again, her eyes locked on him, unblinking, like she was studying every word.

"I promise you, you wouldn't want that. Don't you see? Bitcoin's volatile," he said, his voice smooth, persuasive. "It could crash to nothing tomorrow. Five million in cash is a sure thing. Take it, and you walk away clean."

Viktor's lips curled, a predator's smile. "If it's so unstable, why do you chase it, Bitcoin hunter? Why spend so much for it?"

Darren didn't flinch, his mind racing for a smart dodge. "Diversification," he said coolly. "I spread my bets. Bitcoin's a gamble, sure, but I've got the capital to play. You want the safe bet? Take the five million. We wouldn't want to force each other to extreme means."

"Extreme means?" Viktor snorted. "We could kill you," he said, his voice low, lethal. "Take the wallet now. No deal. No games."

Darren's heart thudded, but his face was stone, his Command Aura holding the room's attention like a vice. He caught the girl's eyes again, a flicker of something— defiance? —passing between them.

She was madly intrigued in how he would manage this situation.

"You could," Darren said, his voice steady, cutting through the tension. "But you won't. Not yet at least. Look at the risks here, Mr. Patriarch. Your organization thrives on shadows. I know about the 2008 Bucharest heist: your shell nodes laundering $300 million through dark pools. I know about the ex-KGB broker you keep on retainer in Moscow."

They all appeared shocked, sharing gazes of 'What the fuck?' and 'How the fuck?'

Darren chuckled. "I mean you could kill us, sure. But when that happens, all that data hits every darknet forum from here to fucking SilkChain. You'll have every hacker and regulator crawling up your spine. Over a wallet worth four million dollars? You don't want that heat. Not with a 'child' like me."

The room went still, the gunmen exchanging glances, their rifles wavering slightly. Rachel's eyes widened, her fear spiking — she had no idea how Darren knew this, or what he was playing at.

The Romanian girl's gaze sharpened, her lips parting slightly, but she stayed silent, her eyes locked on him.

The scarred man's sneer faltered, his grip tightening on her shoulder. Viktor's face was unreadable, but his fingers twitched on his lotus-ringed hand, a crack in his iron facade.

'Oh, he didn't see that coming, did he?' Darren thought as his Command Aura amplified the weight of his words, making them land like blows.

Viktor leaned back, his eyes narrowing. He didn't even bother to ask how he knew what he knew. He was used to this business of information in his world.

"Eight million," he said, his voice hard in silent defeat. "Pay it, and you leave with the wallet. Refuse, and we bury you."

Darren's mind churned. Eight million was nothing compared to what Bitcoin could be worth in a few years— $180 million, maybe more, based on his knowledge of the future.

But he'd spent too much already— money, blood, time. The wallet felt like his, earned through Berlin's dust, Romania's servers, and Zurich's gunfire. Giving up eight million stung, like surrendering a piece of his soul.

He caught the girl's eyes again, her gaze steady, almost daring him to push harder.

"No," Darren said, his voice low, edged with a threat, his Command Aura making it resonate like a warning bell.

"You must have not heard me. My offer is five million."

"Eight million! I kill you and I kill the girl! Fuck what you know!"

"Oh you wanna go that route?" Darren grinned, almost looking mad. "Well, go ahead then. I've got a deadman's switch set up already, the moment I knew you were coming."

They paused.

"It's full of encrypted files on your Triad's operations, ready to flood the darknet if I don't check in. Your private server in Cluj, the one you think is hidden? I know its IP. Your deal with the Hong Kong exchange, skimming 2% off every trade? It's all documented, Vik. Push me, and the Lotus Triad becomes an open book."

The room froze, the air so thick it felt like it could shatter. The gunmen's eyes flicked to Viktor, uncertainty creeping in.

Rachel's breath caught, her fear now mixed with shock— she didn't know half of what he was saying. The scarred man's face twisted, his hand dropping from the girl's shoulder as he stepped forward, but Viktor raised a hand, stopping him.

The Romanian girl's eyes burned into Darren, a mix of awe and tension, her silence louder than words.

Viktor's jaw tightened, his gray eyes like daggers. "You play a dangerous game, American," he said, his accent thicker, his voice a low growl. "Six million. Final offer. The wallet, and you live."

"Five point five million," Darren rebutted. "And I take the woman with me."

The room went deathly silent with confusion, and everyone turned to the Romanian girl.