The EXMA used to be the town’s slaughterhouse, with blood-coloured walls and bull heads mounted in stone to decorate the spaces between the arches, with perfectly round windows that always marked my nightmares, ever since I was a child. In the sunny square I meet Grizzled Ben, a man who was there for the internet’s debut, who knows everyone and everything on social media. With this knowledge, he controls the city from his bar and its small radio station. He is not antibusiness, but he’s for a social blockchain, he wants it to be a tool of freedom and check-and-balance, even though he realises how easily it could become a tool of oppression. You went to visit him to use him as the middleman for his contacts with the CRS4, where you set your baits. He tells me about your shared past, about the basketball matches, about your passion for surfing. He warns me of the dangers of your gamble and of my mission. He must’ve read in my eyes the doubt that haunts me.