An excerpt from the Journal of the infamous Cyberspace explorer, Enzo Lyme
I first discovered this degenerative creature on one of my expeditions uploading myself to the Cloud. In the Depths of one of the Cryptomines that dot cyberspace. If you poke your head into one of those holes, you’ll find Cryptoids of all sorts mining away to generate cryptocurrency for their masters.
Adorned with bling in all forms, and “Drippy” with sweat, they stand proudly at 4ft tall, showing off their wealth and haul to all. You can try and buy their wears. Everything seems to be for sale, from teeth to the clothes on their back, but I’ve found the price will fluctuate rapidly throughout the negotiation.
“40 clicks, No wait, 20 clacks, actually I'll pay you to take it. ONE MILLION BERRYS”
Their raspy voices spout so much lingo I can’t understand it. I’m not sure I’d want their wares anyway.
My strangest observation about these creatures is their social hierarchy.
Each Criptoid has a unique name, which is known to every single other Cryptoid. Even newborn Cryptoid are instantly known by the Cryptoid community. When pressed, My Cryptoid Contact Seinacoin mentioned something called a “Led-jar”, which keeps the names of all other Cryptoids updated at all times.
On rare occasions, when they believe there are no prying eyes, I’ve observed Cryptoids reach a hand down into their own throat to retrieve the slimy, acid-dripping ledger from inside themselves.
A Cryptoid's social status can rise and fall at alarming speeds. For a few hours, they might be a king, the most valuable Cryptoid in the world, only to be a lowly serf two minutes later. In essence, their value is seemingly based on speculation.
Extremely odd folk, but not the strangest Financier I've seen on my travels.
End of Log