Arc 1: The Wealth Momentum (2016)
Part III: The Silent Slap
Chapter 23 — The Bitcoin Lie
The dining table had always been the place where truth was demanded in the Choudhary household. Homework confessions, exam results, career choices, and financial discussions all eventually ended there, under the slow-spinning ceiling fan and the stern presence of Balvendar Choudhary. The wooden table bore faint scratches from decades of use, each mark a quiet witness to difficult conversations. That evening, the table was cleared early, and the chairs were pulled closer together, not for dinner, but for interrogation.
Vikram had suggested the meeting himself.
That alone had startled everyone.
His father sat at the head of the table, back straight, glasses resting low on his nose, fingers interlocked with mathematical precision. His mother sat beside him, posture softer but eyes alert. Neha and Ritu took the opposite side, their earlier ceasefire with Vikram still fragile. No one spoke at first. The silence was thick with expectation.
Balvendar Choudhary broke it, as he always did.
"Start from the beginning," he said calmly. "Do not skip steps."
Vikram nodded. He had anticipated this. A math teacher did not fear large numbers; he feared unexplained ones.
"I will explain everything," Vikram said, his voice steady. "But I need you to listen without interrupting, at least until I finish."
Balvendar adjusted his glasses. "Proceed."
Vikram took a slow breath. This story had to feel ordinary. Not heroic. Not lucky. Just technical enough to bore suspicion into sleep.
"When I was in NIT Pune," Vikram began, "I had a batchmate from the computer science department. He was obsessed with strange things. Open-source software, cryptography, and online forums that most of us ignored."
Neha exchanged a glance with Ritu. This already sounded believable.
"He once told me about something called Bitcoin," Vikram continued. "At the time, it sounded ridiculous. A digital currency with no physical backing, no government control, and no central authority."
Balvendar's eyebrows lifted slightly. "I have heard the term."
Vikram nodded. "It was in the news occasionally. Mostly about hacking incidents or black market rumors. That made people afraid of it, which is why most stayed away."
"And you did not?" his mother asked gently.
"I laughed at it at first," Vikram said. "But that friend kept explaining the technology behind it. Blockchain. Distributed ledgers. Mathematical verification instead of trust."
Balvendar leaned back a little. The word "mathematical" had weight.
Vikram saw the opening and stepped into it.
"He explained it using probability models and cryptographic proofs," Vikram said. "He showed me why it could not be duplicated easily and why its supply was limited."
Ritu frowned. "So you believed him immediately?"
"No," Vikram said. "I ignored it for months."
That hesitation made the story stronger.
"During my internship," Vikram continued, "I was saving small amounts. I did not spend much back then either. One day, out of curiosity more than confidence, I invested a few thousand rupees into Bitcoin."
Neha tilted her head. "How much is a few thousand?"
"About fifteen to twenty thousand rupees in total," Vikram replied. "Over several months."
Balvendar tapped the table lightly. "From an internship stipend?"
"Yes," Vikram said. "It was money I could afford to lose."
That sentence mattered.
"In those days," Vikram went on, "Bitcoin was cheap. Very cheap. No one expected it to become anything serious. It was like an experiment."
His mother nodded slowly. "And you forgot about it?"
"Almost," Vikram said. "I did not check it regularly. I did not tell anyone. There was no reason to."
Balvendar looked skeptical but not dismissive. "Then what changed?"
"The price started rising," Vikram said. "Slowly at first, then faster. By 2015, it was already worth much more than what I invested. I still did not touch it."
Ritu leaned forward. "Why not?"
"Because I did not need the money then," Vikram replied. "And because I did not fully understand the tax implications."
That earned him a sharp glance from his father.
"You thought about taxes," Balvendar said.
"Yes," Vikram replied. "That is why I waited."
Neha's suspicion softened a fraction.
"In the last year," Vikram continued, "the value increased significantly. International investors entered the market. Media attention increased. The risk went up, but so did the returns."
Balvendar folded his arms. "So you sold."
"I sold part of it," Vikram said. "Not everything. I converted some into legal, declared income through proper channels."
His mother looked relieved. "So the money…"
"Is clean," Vikram said firmly. "It came from an investment. Not from a job. Not from anything illegal."
Balvendar remained silent for several seconds, processing.
"This kind of asset is volatile," he said finally. "Highly speculative."
"Yes," Vikram agreed. "That is why I did not build my lifestyle on it immediately."
Neha could not help herself. "But you bought a Mercedes."
Vikram met her eyes. "I bought it after securing enough reserves. It was not an emotional decision."
Balvendar exhaled slowly. "You understand that people lose money in such markets."
"I do," Vikram said. "That is why I exited gradually."
Ritu frowned. "Why did you not tell us earlier?"
"Because you would have panicked," Vikram said honestly. "And because it did not feel real until I converted it."
That silence returned, but this time it was different. It was not hostile. It was contemplative.
Balvendar finally nodded once. "This explains the sudden jump."
He turned toward his wife. "It is foolish, but not criminal."
His mother placed her hand on the table. "And it explains why we could not understand it."
Neha sighed. "Typical nerd behavior."
Ritu shook her head. "You really are lazy in the most dangerous ways."
Vikram smiled faintly. That insult felt like acceptance.
Balvendar looked directly at him. "Do not assume this makes you a genius."
"I do not," Vikram replied. "I assume I was early."
"That is different," his father said.
The tension eased, though it did not disappear entirely. This lie did not demand daily proof. It sat comfortably in the past. It required no new witnesses. No paperwork beyond what Vikram already controlled.
As the conversation ended and chairs scraped softly against the floor, the blue panel appeared briefly in the corner of Vikram's vision.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: CREDIBILITY STRUCTURE CONFIRMED]
Context: Logical Interrogation
Cover Story Integrity: High
Suspicion Level: Reduced
Stat Gain:
• [Deception Control] +1
Tier Progression: Stable
The panel faded without sound.
Vikram remained seated for a moment longer, watching his family move around the familiar space. The lie had worked not because it was clever, but because it respected logic. His father did not believe in miracles. He believed in probability.
Bitcoin was probability.
Outside, Mumbai moved as it always did, indifferent to truth and lies alike. Inside the old villa, one explanation had finally closed a dangerous line of questioning.
Vikram stood up slowly.
For the first time since the system entered his life, his wealth had a name his family could understand.