What's the most crucial element in coin mining?
A computer with exceptional computational power.
There are layers of complexity, but simply put, it boils down to Bitcoin's design.
The more machines solving puzzles, the harder the puzzles get—proportionally boosting the network's security.
That's why raw processing speed is king.
And that's precisely why a supercomputer is essential.
In this regard, Haruka was the exact talent I desperately needed.
I know a fair bit about computers, but only everyday PCs.
Anything requiring specialized tech is beyond me.
'For starters, I can barely identify parts—I sure as hell can't assemble them.'
But Haruka? She crafted components from scratch and was building a supercomputer single-handedly.
The stack of computer books in her room suggested she was entirely self-taught.
In short, a genius.
'A genius. An absurd one!'
The kind of prodigy an average person couldn't fathom.
Even with Asperger's fueling her obsession, pulling off such intricate work demanded raw intellect.
She was the real deal.
So why hadn't her name echoed through the world?
The answer was straightforward.
I examined the presumed supercomputer's components and spotted the outdated parts.
'Her environment isn't backing her up.'
Her family's circumstances were likely stifling her potential.
Haruka's home—sorry to her parents—wasn't in great shape.
Worn tatami, a bulky CRT TV, an aging structure.
Their love for her was evident, but funds for premium parts? Nonexistent.
Her supercomputer's components were growing obsolete.
Yet she'd pushed it this far.
'I want her.'
I wanted Haruka.
Her staggering talent tempted me far more than that voluptuous body promising endless indulgence.
So I started plotting.
'How do I win her over?'
The solution was surprisingly simple.
"Mother, could we speak privately for a moment?"
"Ah, yes, of course."
I just needed to convince her mother.
In situations like this, my adult frame worked in my favor.
If I looked like a kid, this talk wouldn't happen.
Haruka wouldn't resist joining me anyway.
She liked me, but computers? She adored them. Promise unlimited access, and she'd be ecstatic.
The real hurdle was her parents.
The deeper her fixation, the more protective they'd be.
In that private chat, I prepared to be direct.
But before I could—
"Our Haruka… isn't she odd?"
Her mother beat me to it.
At first, I didn't grasp her meaning.
Odd? That skill was extraordinary!
I held my tongue and listened.
"From a young age, Haruka was fixated on computers. Her teacher even suggested something might be wrong. We took her to the doctor—just in case—and got the Asperger's diagnosis."
I nodded silently.
This aligned with my suspicions. The issue was what came next.
"My husband's old-school. He hated her tinkering with machines. That alone might've been manageable, but he believed mental issues stemmed from weakness and tried 'correcting' her with his fists."
My brow furrowed deeply.
"Wait. He beat a child with a disorder, claiming it was due to a frail mind?"
"Yes…"
I'd seen all types in the military—nothing shocked me easily. This was an exception.
'What kind of lunatic…'
Mental conditions aren't cured by violence.
It only aggravates them.
Yet he resorted to brutality.
This wasn't tradition; it was savagery.
I reined in my anger and urged her to continue.
The story was lengthy, but the gist:
Haruka was bullied at school for her quirks and dropped out. Her father's abuse escalated.
Eventually…
"…The violence grew unbearable. I divorced him, took Haruka, and have raised her alone ever since."
For her daughter's sake, she'd left five years ago—when Haruka was 17.
That was Haruka's backstory.
After hearing it all, I took her mother's hand.
"You've endured so much on your own."
"No… Haruka suffered far more."
Her voice quivered with unshed tears.
I studied her closely.
She hailed from refined stock—elegant speech, courteous even to someone appearing young like me.
Strikingly beautiful, with a chest rivaling Haruka's.
But hardship etched her features: worry lines, slender arms, callused hands.
She'd sacrificed everything for her child.
How many parents would go this far?
"First off, I didn't mean Haruka is odd."
With someone like her, honesty was key.
"Her talent is genius-level."
"My daughter's?"
"Absolutely."
I explained Haruka's prowess in detail.
The more she heard, the more doubt crept into her expression—'Could this be real?'
After outlining it, I cut to the chase.
"Frankly, I want to collaborate with Haruka."
"Collaborate… how?"
"An industry leveraging high-speed computing."
"What exactly…"
I gave a wry smile.
"It's tough to explain right now."
"….."
She fell into thought.
Understandable—her daughter's future hung in the balance.
To the pondering mother, I added,
"Of course, not immediately. I need time to prepare, and my plans aren't solid yet. Take a week to consider."
I stood.
"I'll give you that time. And—"
I didn't forget the core point.
"Haruka's gift shouldn't be overlooked."
With that, I moved to leave.
"Wait!"
Her mother stopped me.
I thought she'd decide on the spot, but—
"I'll think it over during my bath. Please wait a bit longer."
That was asking a lot.
But a bath's duration? Manageable.
My own body was grimy anyway.
"Alright."
I agreed.
"Ugh! It's freezing."
I stepped into the bathroom, humming as I waited for the shower to heat.
Creak.
Until the door suddenly swung open.
I whipped around.
"Let's shower together."
Haruka approached, her massive breasts scarcely concealed by a tiny towel.
The sight floored me again.
'What the hell…'
Undeterred by my shock, she closed in and asked,
"Don't you want to?"
No man alive would refuse.
"No. I fucking love it."
None in this world.