How are you going to prevent fraudulent double spending of these digital coins? You'd have to invent some kind of Byzantine Fault Tolerant (BFT) consensus method.
Sure, but then you’d need a way for all participants to agree on which transactions are valid. Maybe like a chain of blocks that hold transaction data, and each block is cryptographically linked to the previous one. Sounds pretty difficult. I doubt that anyone would be able to create anything like that any time soon, if ever.
In the year 2045, the world had transformed into a sprawling metropolis of concrete and steel, where the sun rarely pierced the thick haze of pollution. The government, in its quest for absolute control, had implemented a system known as the KYC Protocol—Know Your Customer. It was a measure designed to eliminate fraud and ensure security, but it had morphed into a bureaucratic nightmare.
Every citizen was required to stand in line for KYC checks before making any purchase, no matter how trivial. The most mundane items, like a pack of gum, had become luxuries that demanded hours of waiting. The lines snaked around the block, a serpentine mass of weary faces, each person clutching their identification cards, biometric scans, and digital wallets.
Maya stood in line, her stomach grumbling as she watched the clock tick away. She had been waiting for nearly two hours, the fluorescent lights above flickering intermittently, casting a sickly glow on the faces around her. The air was thick with impatience and the faint scent of despair. She glanced at the digital screen mounted on the wall, which displayed the current wait time: 45 minutes remaining.
“Next!” barked a voice from the front, and the line shuffled forward. Maya’s heart raced. She had only come to buy a pack of gum, a small indulgence to brighten her day. But the KYC checks had turned this simple act into a test of endurance.
As she inched closer to the front, she overheard snippets of conversations. A man lamented about the time he lost waiting to buy a loaf of bread, while a woman recounted her experience of being denied a purchase because her biometric data had been flagged as “inconclusive.” The stories were all too familiar, a shared trauma that bound them together in this dystopian reality.
Finally, it was Maya’s turn. She stepped up to the kiosk, a cold, metallic structure that loomed over her like a sentinel. A screen flickered to life, displaying a series of prompts. She placed her hand on the scanner, feeling the chill of the glass against her skin. The machine whirred and beeped, analyzing her fingerprints, her palm veins, and her heartbeat.
“Verification in progress,” the screen announced, the words flashing ominously. Maya held her breath, the seconds stretching into an eternity. She could feel the eyes of the people behind her, their impatience palpable.
“Error,” the machine suddenly blared, and Maya’s heart sank. “Biometric data does not match records. Please step aside for further verification.”
Panic surged through her as she was ushered to a separate area, a sterile room filled with flickering screens and stern-faced officials. The line she had waited in for so long now felt like a cruel joke. She glanced back at the kiosk, where the next person was already being processed, oblivious to her plight.
Hours passed as she sat in the cold room, her mind racing with thoughts of what could happen next. Would she be denied the gum forever? Would she be flagged as a potential threat? The KYC Protocol had become a tool of oppression, a way to control the masses under the guise of safety.
Finally, a woman in a crisp uniform approached her, a tablet in hand. “We need to conduct a manual review of your data,” she said, her voice devoid of empathy. “Please provide your identification and answer a series of questions.”
Maya nodded, her heart heavy. She had come for a simple pleasure, but now she was trapped in a web of bureaucracy. As she answered the questions, she realized that the world had become a place where even the smallest joys were overshadowed by the weight of surveillance and control.
After what felt like an eternity, she was finally cleared. The official handed her a slip of paper, a token of her victory. “You may now proceed to purchase your item,” she said, her tone flat.
Maya stepped back into the bustling world outside, the slip clutched tightly in her hand. She made her way to the nearest store, where the shelves were stocked with brightly colored packages of gum. As she reached for a pack, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in her chest.
In a world where freedom had been traded for security, the simple act of buying gum had become a reminder of the chains that bound them all. And as she walked out of the store, the taste of mint and sugar on her tongue, she vowed to remember the struggle it took to reclaim that small piece of joy in a world gone mad.
