The Web3 world celebrates every day.
Late last night, while people sighed over the sluggish “Double Eleven” sales, they were astonished by Bitcoin’s soaring price. By last night, Bitcoin had surged past 89,000 USDT, a historic high never seen before.
This moment marks the seventh year of Web3’s widespread emergence in China.
People often use the phrase “seven-year itch” to describe a change in relationships. For the Web3 world, the past seven years have been a journey from being a niche to becoming relatively mainstream, and then widely discussed and debated within China.

Most people have moved from knowing nothing about Web3 to having some understanding, and even getting involved in it. Industry insiders have gradually moved from the margins toward the mainstream. This once obscure industry, like others, has evolved through cycles of change, driven not only by the initial attractive wealth effect but also by complex human entanglements.
Today, there are over 500 million crypto users globally, and the on-chain stablecoin assets have surpassed 173 billion US dollars. However, many still fail to understand what has happened, and what is still unfolding, in the Web3 world.
Seven years ago, JW, a 24-year-old graduate of Tsinghua University’s Schwarzman Scholars program, joined Web3 by chance. This was her first job, while most of her classmates entered investment banking, consulting, government roles, or academic research.
As she puts it, fate led her to witness a surreal world she had never imagined: idealists obsessed with decentralization, as well as fraudsters merely out to make a quick fortune; people who gained excessive returns, and others who lost everything. She herself went from knowing nothing about the crypto world to becoming the founder of a fund.

Where there are people, there are communities. But in Web3, which is closer to money, the community is even more ruthless.

In this article, JW will use the first-person perspective to reflect on the past seven years of the cryptocurrency world. “We will reflect on where we stand today and why we are still moving forward in this field.”

One day in the crypto world is like a year in the human world.

Price History of Bitcoin

Bitcoin is widely believed to have been conceptualized on November 11, 2008, by the now-missing Satoshi Nakamoto. In China, the journey began on June 9, 2011, when Yang Linke and Huang Xiaoyu founded BTC China, the country’s first Bitcoin trading platform. Later, OKCoin and Huobi were established in 2013.
At the time, this was a game for a select few—so few that you could count them on your fingers.
It wasn’t until 2017 that Bitcoin became a “household name.” That year, Bitcoin’s price surged from under $1,000 at the start of the year to $19,000 by the end—a 20-fold increase. The wealth-creation myths fueled by mass ICOs shook the entire internet and VC circles almost overnight.
Whether or not you participated, everyone was talking about blockchain, and white papers seemed to fill the air. Influential figures like Li Xiaolai, Xue Manzi, and Chen Weixing passionately preached decentralization and promoted the projects they had invested in to their followers. In early January 2018, the famous screenshot of investor Xu Xiaoping’s WeChat message proclaiming that “the blockchain revolution has arrived” remains unforgettable to this day.
In the early hours of February 11, 2018, Yu Hong and a group of sleepless friends created a WeChat group called “3am Blockchain Insomnia.” Within three days, the group exploded in activity… Collectively, the members of this group were worth trillions.
A popular saying in the crypto world emerged:
“If you’ve never heard of the 3am Blockchain Group, you’re not in the blockchain circle.
If you haven’t joined the 3am Blockchain Group, you’re not a blockchain tycoon.
If you haven’t been spammed by the 3am Blockchain Group, you haven’t experienced what ‘one day in the crypto world equals a year in the real world’ truly means.”
But this was merely the prelude to the madness.

“This is the e-commerce king of Korea.”

In the summer of 2018, I traveled to Seoul with my former boss (at the time, one of the top founders of a leading fund in Asia) to attend the Korea Blockchain Week. South Korea is one of the most important markets in the crypto industry, and the Korean won is the second-largest fiat currency by trading volume, just behind the US dollar. Crypto entrepreneurs and investors from around the world were eager to stake their claim in this market. The company we were meeting with was called Terra, one of Korea’s top projects. The meeting was arranged in a Chinese restaurant at the Shilla Hotel, a traditional and somewhat conservative hotel in Korea. As the official reception venue for the local government, the lobby was filled with young, passionate crypto enthusiasts from all over the world.
Terra was founded by two Koreans, Dan Shin and Do Kwon. Dan’s company, Tmon, was once one of the largest e-commerce platforms in Korea, with an annual GMV of over $3.5 billion. Do and I were about the same age and, after graduating from Stanford, he had also tried his hand at a few entrepreneurial ventures. “This is the e-commerce king of Korea,” my boss said to me on our way to lunch.
Similar to traditional investment thinking, the focus on “people” is also key in Web3 investments. Individuals like Dan, who achieved success in the Web2 world, immediately attract the attention of top crypto exchanges and funds. Later, we invested $2 million in Terra. Maybe because Do and I were the same age, we stayed in touch after that. Do was like many of my computer science classmates: a guy with a typical American accent, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. Do told me they planned to make the stablecoin issued by Terra a widely adopted digital currency. He spoke about their negotiations with Korea’s largest convenience store chain, the Mongolian government, and Southeast Asian retail groups. They had also developed a payment app called Chai, “which will become the Alipay of the world.”
As Do casually sipped coffee and shared their grand plans in an office that resembled a warehouse, I felt like I was in a dream. At that time, I honestly didn’t understand how they would accomplish their plans. I just felt that it sounded so fresh and ambitious. Cryptocurrencies were far from a consensus at the time (and, of course, they still aren’t today). Most of my classmates were either working at investment banks, consulting firms, or big internet companies. They either knew nothing about crypto or were full of doubts. Yet, here I was, chatting with someone who was planning to launch a “global payment network.”

This is an era of chasing narratives, big funds, and professor coins.

“Help me track this link and let me know how much has been deposited. The deadline is this week.” My boss sent me a link—it was a Dutch auction project, a Layer 2 project running a public sale. In reality, we had never actually met the team; they had only provided a website and a white paper, yet in 2018, they raised over $26 million. Despite the token now being worth nothing.
People were more willing to trust a stranger from across the globe on the internet than someone in the same room. At the time, I had just turned 24, and although I guessed that most of the investment committee members, at times, didn’t really know what they were doing—just like me—they encouraged me to invest an additional $500,000 in the project, “just as a way to make friends.” They were trying to replicate the madness of 2017: as long as a famous fund supported it, any random token could soar 100 times. But the music soon came to an abrupt stop.

“When will Bitcoin return to $10,000?”

I once thought this was the best job in the world: traveling the globe at a young age, buying expensive business class tickets and staying in luxurious hotels, moving through grand conference halls, learning new things, and meeting a diverse group of people. But the bear market hit unexpectedly. In December 2018, Bitcoin’s price plunged from over $14,000 to $3,400. As a young professional with little savings, I decided to bet a month’s salary when I saw Ethereum’s price drop from $800 to $400, and then to $200. In hindsight, it wasn’t a wise decision. Less than a month after I bought at $200, ETH’s price fell below $100. “What a scam,” I thought for the first time.
In the first half of 2020, the global pandemic struck, and the cryptocurrency industry took a massive hit during the market crash on March 12. I was stuck in Singapore at the time. I still remember that afternoon—every time I checked the price, Bitcoin dropped another $1,000. A month earlier, Bitcoin was around $10,000, and within hours, it plummeted from $6,000 to $3,000—much lower than when I first entered the industry. To me, it felt more like a farce. I watched people’s reactions: some were waiting to see, some were bottom-fishing, and others were getting liquidated. Even the more experienced investors were feeling pessimistic. “Bitcoin will never return to $10,000,” they said. There were even discussions about whether the crypto industry would continue to exist—some believed it might just be a detour in tech history. But some chose to stay. My institution wasn’t making any new investments at that time, but I was still receiving project proposals. Soon, decentralized finance (DeFi) became the hot topic.
I wasn’t a trader, but all of my trader colleagues thought DeFi was a bad idea: everything was slow, order book-based exchanges were impossible, there was no liquidity, and fewer users. What I didn’t fully understand at the time was that security and permissionlessness were DeFi’s biggest selling points. But would permissionlessness truly resonate with people? After all, the KYC (Know Your Customer) process at centralized exchanges wasn’t that bad.
Attending DevCon IV and V during the bear market was an eye-opening experience. Although I had studied computer science in college and was familiar with hackathons, I had never seen so many “strange” developers in one place. Even with ETH’s price having dropped by 90%, people were still enthusiastically discussing decentralization, privacy, and on-chain governance on Ethereum. I didn’t have faith in decentralization, nor did I have any passion for anarchism—these ideas had only appeared in my classroom. But the developers seemed to truly embrace these philosophies.
“You picked the wrong time to join,” a colleague comforted me. A year earlier, at DevCon III in Cancun, our fund had made tens of millions just by investing in the projects presented at the conference. During the bear market, we missed an investment opportunity in Solana when its valuation was below $100 million (it’s now worth over $84 billion). Even though we had interviewed founder Anatoly and Kyle from Multicoin. Kyle was very confident about the project and believed it would become Ethereum’s “killer.” Solana’s TPS was 1,000 times higher than Ethereum’s due to its consensus mechanism, “Proof-of-History.” But after my colleague had a technical due diligence call with Anatoly, they concluded, “Solana is too centralized. Centralized TPS doesn’t matter—why not just use AWS?” Clearly, my colleague wasn’t fond of it, “And the founder doesn’t understand the value of a truly decentralized network like Ethereum, maybe because he used to work at Qualcomm.”

(DeFi TVL growth chart – the kind of chart that every venture capital firm would go crazy over) (Source: DeFi Llama) \

With the introduction of yield farming, my skepticism about decentralized finance (DeFi) was quickly overcome. By depositing tokens into DeFi smart contracts, users could become liquidity providers and earn protocol fees and governance token rewards. Whether you call it a growth flywheel or a death spiral, DeFi protocols experienced massive growth in terms of user numbers and total value locked (TVL). Specifically, the TVL of DeFi protocols skyrocketed from less than $100 million at the beginning of 2020 to over $100 billion by mid-2021. Thanks to open-source technology, copying or modifying a DeFi protocol could take just a few hours. As liquidity provision was called “yield farming,” DeFi protocols were often named after food. For a while, almost every day saw the launch of a new “food coin”—from Sushi to Yam. The crypto community loved these puns, where even a protocol with millions of trades could be named after food and use an emoji as its logo.
But the hacks and exploits in DeFi projects made me nervous. I wasn’t a risk-taker. My friends, on the other hand, were frantically farming: they’d set alarms for 3 AM just to be the first to enter a new liquidity pool. In the summer of 2020, the annual percentage yield (APY) became the hottest topic—everyone was chasing the pools with the highest APY. Noticing the market demand for yield farming with allocated funds, industry veteran Andre Cronje launched a yield aggregator product: Yearn. The product caused a huge stir. As more funds flowed into DeFi, we also witnessed the rise of some “big shots” on Twitter, such as SBF from FTX, Do Kwon from Terra, and Su and Kyle from 3AC. Terra launched several DeFi products, including Alice, a payment app for the US market, and the lending protocol Anchor. Anchor might have been designed for newcomers to the blockchain like me—just deposit your stablecoins into the contract and earn nearly 20% annual yield without having to think much. At its peak, Anchor’s TVL exceeded $17 billion.

“Congrats to Anchor, great product—I’ve invested some money in it,” I messaged Do on WeChat, unsure if he would reply. But I knew by then, he was no longer the young person I once knew—he had a million followers on Twitter and had announced plans to purchase $10 billion worth of Bitcoin. “Thanks—you’re doing well with your portfolio too.” He actually replied. He was referring to some game projects I had invested in earlier. DeFi also changed the gaming sector within crypto—now everything was about “earning.” As the frenzy continued, I also invested in a lending project from Three Arrows Capital. A few months later, doubts started to emerge about Anchor’s profitability. It turned out that Terra’s lending product didn’t generate enough returns to cover the interest paid to liquidity providers like me; current payouts were largely subsidized by the Terra Foundation. Upon hearing this, I immediately withdrew my funds; around the same time, I also redeemed my investment from Three Arrows Capital.
The atmosphere on crypto Twitter started to feel strange, especially when Do tweeted “Hope you’re poor and happy” and Su was spotted shopping in luxury malls in Singapore, it felt like a signal of the market top. I was lucky to avoid the collapses of Terra and Three Arrows Capital; months after the crash, I learned that the payment app was actually not processing payments on the blockchain, and the borrowed funds had been leveraged to such an extent that once the market turned, they could never repay it. But when FTX collapsed, I wasn’t so lucky.
For weeks, rumors had been circulating that FTX had suffered huge losses in the collapses of Three Arrows and Terra and was possibly insolvent. Billions of dollars were being withdrawn from the exchange daily. Out of caution, our firm also withdrew some, though not all, of its assets from FTX. It was a turbulent time. Every day there were panic rumors of USDT and USDC de-pegging, as well as speculation about Binance possibly going bankrupt. But we hadn’t lost hope; I trusted SBF—what harm could a billionaire who believed in effective altruism and slept in the trading hall do? However, one day, on my way to the gym, my partner called to tell me: FTX had declared bankruptcy, and $8 billion was missing. Because they had misused user assets, we might not be able to get our money back. But I was surprisingly calm about it. Maybe this was just our industry: magic Internet money. All assets ultimately were just a string of characters and numbers on a screen. Money is a test of character, and cryptocurrency just accelerates everything. Even looking back today, I still have no doubt that Do and SBF’s original intentions were good. Maybe they were swept up by the inflation caused by unrealistic growth, or they thought they could “fake it until they make it.” DeFi was like a Promethean fire within the crypto industry: it brought hope, but at a great cost.

The misunderstood world of crytpo

As an old saying in China goes, “When sickness comes, it falls like a mountain; when it leaves, it departs like pulling silk.” The cryptocurrency industry took several years to recover from the crash. To outsiders, it seemed like just another Ponzi scheme. People associated cryptocurrency founders with lavish clothing, a love for internet memes, hosting parties globally, and their relentless pursuit of quick wealth. At a school reunion, I caught up with an old classmate. When I mentioned my investment in cryptocurrency, they jokingly said, “So, you’re a crypto bro now?” I didn’t take offense, but it was indeed a strange remark, as if separating cryptocurrency from technology and venture capital. Traditional internet and tech investments were viewed as the right path, whereas a young person with a good education joining the crypto industry seemed like a misguided choice.
For a long time, the terms “Web 3” and “Web 2” were often used in opposition. Yet, such a divide seemed absent in other industries. No one tried to deliberately separate the founders of AI from those in SaaS or other fields. What makes Web 3 so unique in the venture capital context? Personally, I believe cryptocurrency fundamentally changes how venture capital and early-stage investments operate, creating opportunities that are somewhat different from equity-based startups. Simply put, the token economics in cryptocurrency create unparalleled opportunities for both startups and investors. In the end, it all boils down to product-market fit (PMF), user growth, and value creation, which is not fundamentally different from the Web 2 world. Furthermore, as the cryptocurrency industry matures, the integration between Web 2 and Web 3 companies is increasingly visible. It is time to reassess the industry.
In the early days of cryptocurrency (after all, we are still in the early stages), what people wanted might have been a grand vision (such as a digital currency independent of central banks), a new computing paradigm (a universal smart contract platform), a hopeful story (such as a decentralized storage network to replace AWS), or even a Ponzi scheme where everyone wanted to get ahead of the curve. Today, cryptocurrency users are more clear about what they want, and they support these needs by paying or moving capital. For those outside the industry, it might be hard to intuitively understand how “magic internet money” can actually generate income. Some crypto assets even offer more attractive P/E ratios than stocks.
I tried to explain with data—$2.216 billion—the protocol revenue of Ethereum over the past year; $1.3 billion, $97.5 billion—Tether’s net operating profit and the total amount of U.S. Treasury bonds it holds in Q2 2024; $78.99 million—the revenue of meme platform Pump from March 2024 to August 1, 2024. Even within the crypto industry, the value of memes is controversial: Some view them as new cultural trends and tradeable consensus, like Elon Musk planning to use Dogecoin on his Mars colony; others see them as a cancer of the industry, given that memes themselves lack products or value for users. But I think, just from the number of participants and the scale of capital involved, memes are already an undeniable social experiment—tens of millions of users worldwide and billions of dollars in real money. Perhaps there is no tangible meaning, but under the same logic, isn’t postmodern art the same?
Many people’s first impression of the crypto market might still be: storytelling, hype, and trading. In the 2017 ICO boom, this was partially true, but after several cycles, the way the crypto industry operates has changed significantly. Five years later, the revenue-generating capabilities of DeFi protocols have proven PMF. Looking at the comparables of trades, the values of these projects are increasingly approaching traditional stock markets. Aside from differences in asset liquidity, the general consensus is that the connection to the real world is the primary distinction between Web 2 and Web 3. After all, compared to AI, social media, SaaS, and other internet products, Web 3 products still seem somewhat distant from the real world. But in some countries, such as Southeast Asia, the largest integrated application platform Grab (ride-hailing, food delivery, financial products) already supports cryptocurrency payments; in Indonesia, the fourth-largest country by population, the number of crypto asset traders has exceeded the number of stock traders; in Argentina and Turkey, where local currencies are severely devalued, cryptocurrency has become a new choice for people’s reserve assets. In 2023, cryptocurrency trading volume in Argentina exceeded $85.4 billion.
Although we have not yet fully realized a “property-owning internet,” we are already seeing cryptocurrency bring vibrant innovation to the current internet. For example, stablecoins represented by Tether (USDT) and Circle (USDC) are quietly changing the global payment network. According to a research report by Coinbase, stablecoins have become the fastest-growing payment method. Stripe recently completed the acquisition of the stablecoin infrastructure project Bridge for $1.1 billion, marking the largest acquisition in the crypto world. Blackbird, founded by the co-founder of Resy, focuses on transforming the dining experience by allowing customers to pay for meals with cryptocurrency, especially using its own token $FLY. The platform aims to connect restaurants and consumers via a cryptocurrency-driven app, also serving as a loyalty program. Worldcoin, co-founded by Sam Altman, is an avant-garde movement promoting universal basic income, relying on zero-knowledge proof technology. Users scan their irises using a device called Orb, generating a unique identifier, the “IrisHash,” to ensure each participant is a unique human, combating the growth of fake identities and bot accounts in the digital space. Worldcoin now has over 10 million participants worldwide.
If we could turn back time to the summer of 2017, none of us would have predicted what the next seven years would mean for the crypto industry—who would have thought that so many applications would grow on the blockchain, or that hundreds of billions of assets would be stored in smart contracts?

How AI uses cryptocurrencies as a mirror

Now, I would like to discuss the similarities and differences between cryptocurrencies and AI. After all, many people often compare the two. Comparing cryptocurrencies with AI might be like comparing apples and oranges. But if we view today’s AI investment from the perspective of cryptocurrency investors, we might notice some similarities: both are full-stack technologies, each with its own infrastructure layer and application layer.
But the confusion is also similar: it’s still unclear which layer will accumulate the most value, the infrastructure layer or the application layer? “What if the headline company does what you’re trying to do?” — This could be the nightmare of every entrepreneur. The development of the internet in the past proves that this nightmare is not unfounded, from Facebook and Zynga ending their partnership and making their own mobile games, to later on with Twitter Live and Meerkat. The resource advantages of large companies make it difficult for startups to compete.
In the cryptocurrency industry, due to the different economic models of the protocol layer and the application layer, the focus of each project is not to cover every layer in the ecosystem. Taking public chains (ETH, Sol, etc.) as an example, the economic model dictates that the more people use the network, the higher the gas income, and the higher the value of the tokens. Thus, the leading projects in the crypto world spend most of their efforts on ecosystem development and attracting developers. Only the emergence of killer apps can increase the use of underlying public chains, thereby raising the project’s market value. Early infrastructure projects might even provide subsidies ranging from tens of thousands to millions of dollars to qualifying app developers.
Our observation is that the value capture of both the infrastructure and application layers is hard to distinguish, but for capital, both layers will experience alternating periods of hype, with the “winner takes all” effect prevailing. For example, massive capital pours into public chains, improving the performance of leading public chain projects, which gives rise to new application models and eliminates the mid- and lower-tier public chains. Capital flows into new business models, the user base grows, and leading apps dominate both capital and users, which raises the demand for underlying infrastructure and forces infrastructure upgrades.
So, what does this mean for investment? The simple truth is that there is no wrong choice in investing in either infrastructure or the application layer. The key is to find the leading player.
Let’s turn the clock to 2024: which public chains eventually survived? Here are three rough conclusions.

Disruptive technology plays a smaller role in the success of projects. Previously, “Ethereum killer” projects backed by US and Chinese VCs, which emphasized professors and academic concepts (e.g., Thunder Core, Oasis Labs, Algorand), largely failed to live up to expectations. Only Avalanche emerged as a winner, and that was after the professor’s departure and full compatibility with the Ethereum ecosystem. On the other hand, Polygon, once dismissed for its lack of innovation (forking ETH), has become a top-five ecosystem in terms of on-chain assets and users.

Near Protocol is another example of unmet potential. Despite boasting sharding technology and TPS that surpasses Ethereum, being co-founded by one of the authors of the Transformer model paper, and raising nearly $400 million, its current on-chain assets are only around $60 million. While market trends fluctuate daily, the overarching trajectory is clear.

Developer and user stickiness comes from the ecosystem. For public chains, users include not only end-users but also developers (excluding miners, which follow an entirely different model). End-users are drawn to ecosystems with rich applications and more trading opportunities. Developers gravitate towards ecosystems with a large user base and robust infrastructure, including wallets, block explorers, and decentralized exchanges. This creates a flywheel effect where developers and users drive each other’s growth.

The dominance of leading platforms is greater than imagined. Ethereum’s user base and the total value locked in its on-chain applications exceed those of all “Ethereum killers” combined. For many (especially those outside the industry), Ethereum is synonymous with smart contract chains—similar to how OpenAI is equated with AGI today. Moreover, leading public chains hold substantial cash reserves, enabling them to fund developers at a scale startups cannot match. As most blockchain projects are open-source, mature ecosystems allow for more composable decentralized applications.

Public chains and large models differ in several key areas:

Infrastructure requirements: According to a16z, 80%-90% of the early funding for most AI startups is spent on cloud services. Fine-tuning costs per client for AI application companies account for 20%-40% of revenue. In simple terms, most of the money goes to companies like NVIDIA and AWS/Azure/Google Cloud. While public chains have mining rewards, the costs of hardware/cloud services are borne by decentralized miners. Additionally, the data processed by blockchains pales in comparison to the billions of labeled data points AI requires, making blockchain infrastructure costs significantly lower.

Liquidity: Public chains without mainnets can issue tokens, but AI companies without users or revenue struggle to go public. Although many “professor chains” underperformed (with Ethereum remaining the undisputed No. 1), investors rarely faced total losses. In contrast, AI startups risk complete failure if they can’t secure subsequent funding. This calls for greater caution in venture investments for AI.

Productivity improvements: With ChatGPT, LLMs have achieved PMF (Product-Market Fit) and are widely adopted by both B2B and B2C users, boosting productivity. While public chains have endured two bull-bear cycles, they still lack a killer app, and their application scenarios remain exploratory.

End-user perception: Public chains are tightly linked to end-users, as using decentralized applications requires users to know which chain they are on and to transfer their assets accordingly, fostering a degree of stickiness. AI, on the other hand, operates quietly, akin to cloud services or processors in computers. Users don’t care whether a ride-hailing app runs on AWS or Alibaba Cloud. Similarly, due to ChatGPT’s short memory, users don’t mind whether they are chatting on its official site or via an aggregator. This makes retaining C-end users more challenging.

As for crypto’s role in AI applications, many teams suggest that decentralized financial networks will become the default financial transaction network for AI agents. The diagram below accurately summarizes the current stage of development.

Find needles in haystacks more quickly

When I first joined the cryptocurrency industry, I had almost no confidence in the concept of decentralization. I believe this sentiment is shared by most early participants in the space. People join this industry for various reasons—money, technology, curiosity, or simply by chance. However, if you were to ask me today whether I have confidence in cryptocurrencies, I would give you a resounding yes. You can’t dismiss the entire crypto industry just because of the scams within it, just as you wouldn’t dismiss the entire financial industry because of scandals like Madoff.
A recent example close to me is my friend R (a pseudonym). He successfully turned an idea into a company with 200 employees, positive cash flow, and a valuation of over $200 million. R’s entrepreneurial journey was rooted in his understanding of decentralized value. He once told me, “My girlfriend is a small influencer on TikTok, but creators only get a tiny fraction of the tips their fans give them.” He saw this as unfair and said, “I want to create a decentralized version of this.” At the time, I thought he was joking. But about three years later, he launched the project, and today the platform has hundreds of thousands of users.
As someone who entered the crypto industry at 24, right after graduating, these past seven years have exposed me to many facets of the world: idealists, gold rush scammers, those who achieved outsized returns, and those who lost everything. I still remember my former boss, an OG in the crypto space who made a fortune, once saying, “You have to keep working hard, or you’ll just become a rich, ordinary person.”
I believe a respected investor once described the job of VCs as “finding a needle in a haystack.” To me, VC investments in the crypto world are much the same. The only difference is that the crypto haystack moves much faster, so we must remain agile at all times.

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