A semi-fictional retelling of a story about stolen Bitcoins, mining and Kim Jong-un’s hopes and dreams.
It was the 107th year of the Juche calendar. Kim Jong-un was sat behind his desk in a Nike Jordan tracksuit, swapping photos on an iPad. Giant obelisks of his father and grandfather looked at him with approval through the window.
“Emms is already on his way in an armoured train. We’ll call McAfee, he definitely won’t say no. We’ll line him up a shitload of the coke that we found in a Japanese fishing trawler the other day. Charlie Lee might not be keen… All right, let’s help him to buy back litecoins. McCaleb is really busy with his own shitty cryptocurrencies at the moment. Ver? Oh, Ver will go anywhere, as long as he can push his lecture about cash. And Vitalik has wanted to go on a tour of North Korea for ages – here’s a good opportunity. Although he was planning to go to Google… We’ll strip him naked and take all his devices. If we find any trace of the State Department, I’ll personally feed him to the dogs. The hounds have been starving for over a week”.
The dictator’s brain activity was at its maximum. His clear mind and insight had been switched on for several days thanks to the magic pills that North Korea’s best special agent ...
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