Signals from Strangers

The rain just wouldn't let up that night. It hammered the wet streets of Jakarta, reflecting the dim glow of city lights that were slowly flickering off. The air felt colder, biting at skin already worn out from a long, exhausting day.

I was sitting on the edge of my old, sagging bed, back against the peeling wall. My phone, its screen cracked in a couple of spots, lit up my lap with a new notification from a Telegram group I'd only joined three days ago.

Altcoin Underground ID.

I read the latest message from the group admin.

"Zoom link goes live in 2 minutes. Have your notes ready. Don't ask stupid questions."

My heart kicked up a beat. Not out of fear, but because... this wasn't just some random Zoom call. It wasn't a goofy forum or a place for people to flex their portfolios. It felt different. Real. Like a door about to open to a world I'd only ever glimpsed from the outside, a world that always seemed impossibly out of reach.

Three days ago, I found the link to this group in a random comment on some crypto forum. No description, no clear profile. Just a username: "@cryptoghost_id".

And the profile picture? A kitsune mask. A pitch-black silhouette that seemed to stare right through the screen, like it knew I was watching. The bio was just one line.

"You're broke, not because of fate. But because you don't understand the system."

That line had been stuck in my head ever since I first read it. Without thinking twice, I joined.

And now... here I was. Alone in my cramped boarding house room, phone in hand, a strange sense of hope creeping into my chest.

The Zoom started.

My phone screen showed the participant list. Almost a hundred people. Everyone was silent. No video. Just one voice. Deep. Calm. Cold. Like someone who'd been disappointed too many times but never gave up.

"Welcome, people who've run out of options."

I held my breath. That first line hit hard. Like a bullet punching through the thin wall around my heart.

"If you're here looking for a quick buck, log off now. But if you're ready to learn how to survive in a world that can chew you up alive without blinking... sit tight. Listen carefully."

I bit my lip. My heart raced faster. But not from fear.

Because... for the first time in my life, someone was speaking directly to my struggles. The voice continued.

"Crypto isn't about getting rich quick. That's just influencer hype. If you chase the money, you'll lose. But if you want to understand... you might just win, slowly."

I grabbed my beat-up little notebook. My hand flew across the page, trying to catch every word from the Zoom speaker.

CryptoGhost – that's what he introduced himself as – started explaining the altcoin world.

"There are the big coins, like BTC and ETH. The foundation. Stable. But expensive. Not for you."

I swallowed hard.

"There are midcap altcoins like MATIC, AVAX, LINK. Strong projects, steady liquidity. But you're still fighting the crowd."

I nodded slowly. Made sense.

"And then there's... microcap altcoins. Tiny coins. Penny prices. Brutal volatility. But potential for hundreds of percent gains."

A pause. You could feel everyone on the call holding their breath.

"If you're broke, don't touch BTC. You're already late. You don't need stable coins. You need a bullet... one that can punch through everything."

That line made my whole body tense. Not because I felt insulted. Because... it was true. I was broke. Not because of bad luck, but because I never had access to the right system. And now, here was someone not just acknowledging that, but using it as a starting point.

CryptoGhost kept going.

"I'll give signals when there's a strong setup. Because a good signal isn't about volume. It's about timing."

Then he typed into the chat.

"$KRNO – Kronos Chain" "Current Price: $0.008" "Potential: +300%" "Buy Zone: < $0.009" "Target: $0.024" "Hold Time: 2-3 weeks" "Risk: High, but project is active"

I immediately opened CoinMarketCap to check $KRNO.

Yup. Price was $0.0082.

The chart was flat. No volume. Like a sleeping coin. I clicked over to its website. A new DeFi project from devs in Vietnam. Focused on auto-staking. Not listed on many exchanges yet. But that's exactly what made it interesting. I knew one thing for sure. A sleeping coin can wake up at any moment.

And when it does...

CryptoGhost spoke again.

"I'm not telling you to buy it right now. I'm just giving you the bait. You need to figure out the hook yourself. Most importantly, don't invest if you're not ready to lose it all."

That line was the first test.

I stared at my phone screen. My crypto app showed a balance of about Rp57,100.

After buying VEED yesterday (which had gone up slightly), I had around Rp25,000 I could actually use. Two choices.

Stay in VEED. Slow and steady. Safe.

Jump into $KRNO. A foreign token I'd never even heard of five minutes ago.

I closed my eyes. Tried to stay calm.

"If this is a pump and dump, I could lose everything. But if it's real, I could double my money."

I remembered the harshest thing my mentor ever said.

"In this world, poor people can't level up without taking risks."

I opened my eyes. Slowly, I opened my wallet app. And without overthinking it... I sold half my VEED. Rp25,000.

I transferred it to a wallet that could access PancakeSwap. The token wasn't even on local exchanges yet. But I didn't care. I bought it. The transaction went through. I stared at my screen.

$KRNO Balance: 3,050 tokens

Nothing dramatic happened. No victory fanfare. But inside, a small voice whispered.

"Today, you're not just an observer. Today, you're a player."

I closed the app and sat back down on the edge of the bed. The rain was still falling. I felt hollow. Not from regret.

But because, for the first time, I felt like I had chosen something for myself.

Until now, every decision in my life was made out of necessity. Had to work because I needed money. Had to save because the pay was crap. Had to be tough because I had no choice.

But today...

I chose something – not because I had to, but because I believed.

The Telegram group buzzed back to life. A new notification.

AndiLurker joined the group

I typed a message.

"AndiLurker: thanks for the signal, man"

A few seconds later, a reply popped up.

"CryptoGhost: Learn slowly. Losing first is fine. As long as you understand why."

I smiled faintly. Then I started scrolling through other members' comments. Some were super aggressive.

"PumpHunter69: KRNO TO THE MOON!!!" "RakaToken: GO GO GO, ALL IN!!!" "N0obTrader: hey bro, is this really going up? Don't prank us, okay?"

I sat there, quiet. Those comments felt... noisy.

I was starting to realize that the crypto world wasn't just numbers.

It was about "crowd psychology" too.

Some people jumped in out of panic. Some just wanted the hype so their token would pump. Some were just trying to squeeze out a quick 20% profit and bail.

And right in the middle of all that...

I stood. Alone. With a tiny bit of money and a huge amount of hope. The night was getting deeper.

Outside, crickets chirped, and the occasional motorcycle rumbled by. I opened my notebook again and slowly wrote.

"I don't know if $KRNO will go up or if I'll lose money. But today, I'm not just working for a paycheck. I'm working to learn. And I'm learning to change."

I turned off my phone. Then I stared at the ceiling.

Tomorrow morning, I'd have to get up again at 5 AM. Go to work. Carry gallons. Wipe tables. Deliver orders.

But starting tonight... I wasn't the same person anymore.

"A few days later..."

My phone buzzed. A notification from my crypto app. I unlocked the screen.

"$KRNO: $0.012"

I held my breath. It went up. But it hadn't hit the target yet. I checked the Telegram group.

"PumpHunter69: IT'S CLIMBING!!!" "RakaToken: IT'S AT 0.012 ALREADY!!!" "N0obTrader: SELLING EVERYTHING NOW!!!"

I gave a thin smile. Then I saw a message from CryptoGhost.

CryptoGhost: "Calm down. This is just the beginning. The target is still far. Don't panic sell. Hold."

I looked at the screen. There was still so much I didn't understand.

But one thing was clear...

I wasn't stopping now. Because this wasn't about the money. It was about changing.

And this journey... It had only just begun.