The bus left him in Bergen auf Rügen under a pale drizzle. Jan Buy walked the wet streets without hurry, passing darkened shop windows. He had been here once, years ago; chalk cliffs, a woman’s voice, the taste of salt in the wind. In Sassnitz, he rented a small room above the harbour. The Wi-Fi was weak, but enough. While gulls wheeled over the grey Baltic, Jan checked the crypto markets, moved coins from one position to another, and closed every trade in profit. He always did. Freedom for him was not just movement. It was knowing his money multiplied quietly in the background, untethered from any place. By evening, the rain returned. He pulled his coat tighter and walked toward the Jasmund cliffs. The ferry horn sounded through the mist. He did not turn to watch it go.