$PI It was born in a moment you never told anyone about. Maybe after late-night overtime, you leaned against the headboard of your rented room, with the glow from your phone screen lighting up your face, and with a casual tap you hit that lightning icon. That day was no different from yesterday, and tomorrow would probably be the same too. You didn’t have any expectations—just the feeling that, well, it doesn’t cost anything.

Later, you moved to a new city, changed jobs, and the people around you cycled through one round after another. That app took up a very small spot on your phone. You’d open it sometimes, forget about it other times. You didn’t tell many people, because you were afraid of being laughed at. You also didn’t give up, because you didn’t even know why you should—after all, you hadn’t put anything in.

Then, not long after, you saw the outside world erupt into chaos. Some said it had gone to zero. Some wrote long posts cursing it as a scam. Some shared screenshots of their full liquidation, announcing, “Finally free.” You looked down at the string of numbers you’d accumulated, and it felt very calm. You didn’t sell, and you didn’t add. You couldn’t really explain why—only that you’d waited so long, and this one time didn’t matter.

After a while more, you were in a small convenience store. You saw a paper note taped on the cashier’s counter: “Accept Pi payments.” You froze for a few seconds, then bought a bottle of water. When you stepped outside, the sunlight was beautiful. Suddenly you remembered that late-night from a long time ago—your phone screen still glowing. You were exhausted, but you still tapped it without thinking.

That night, you didn’t think about anything. But you actually made a very important decision.