Finance, particularly cryptocurrency, is unforgiving of mistakes. Should a frightened crypto wallet owner, under psychological or physical pressure, disclose their seed phrase or private key, their digital assets will be drained from the wallet in a matter of minutes, and sometimes even fractions of a second. After stealing the assets, criminals often use services (mixers, tumblers and other crypto mixers) that blend the cryptocurrency of many users – thereby making it more difficult to trace the origin of the funds. Although international law enforcement agencies pay particular attention to various crypto scams, they repeatedly warn that when real people start hunting for your crypto wallet, coins or tokens, a completely different – and sometimes deadly – ‘game’ begins.
In the middle of an olive grove in Spain stands a small, rather colourful house. Daniela and Manuel lived there. To everyone else, they were an ordinary married couple, although, just a few years ago, they had completely different names – Angela and Ivan. Only two things united them: a penchant for scams and a love of other people’s money. The advent of cryptocurrency opened up new prospects and opportunities for them.
They used to be professional actors, but in the early 2000s, they moved to Spain under the terms of a contract and stayed in the country. They bought a house that looked old from the outside but was modern and comfortable inside, situated on a hill amongst silvery olive trees. It was then that Daniela – also known as Angela – discovered cryptocurrencies for herself, and later passed on her ‘love of coins’ to Manuel.
Every morning at seven o’clock sharp, the front door would open and two figures would emerge, walking silently amongst the trees. In their hands, they always carried old metal buckets. The neighbours would simply smile: ‘They’re such hard-working people,’ they’d say.
Their new neighbour was the crypto entrepreneur Rosenblatt. He hadn’t chosen to live next to them, but he quickly took a liking to the couple. After all, the couple were almost the same age as Adam Rosenblatt and often helped out with household advice. They also brought over their own fragrant homemade olive oil.
Once a week, in the evening, the three of them would admire the sunset and chat about the weather, the economy, cryptocurrency and football.
In reality, however, a few months earlier, they had been approached by a stranger who spoke with a Russian accent:
‘I need Adam’s daily routine: when he leaves the house and when he returns. Where he parks his car in town. The circle of people closest to him, the ones he socialises with. Nothing else.’
The pay was such that it proved far harder to refuse than to agree. And credit where credit is due: the former actors played their roles brilliantly – they observed Adam casually, but recorded everything in detail and travelled to Málaga once a week to meet the stranger.
That is precisely why no one suspected a thing. But one warm evening, everything changed.
The door to Rosenblatt’s house was smashed in with a single blow. Four masked men burst into the room:
‘Hand over the crypto wallet. The passwords. The seed phrase. Quickly, and no nonsense. Then nobody will get hurt.’
Two of the attackers remained silent. They didn’t utter a single word the whole time. They merely gestured to the other two.
But Rosenblatt recognised them. By their silhouettes, by the way they walked. Adam noticed that the slenderest and shortest of them had a habit of tilting his head slightly when he was thinking. A realisation flashed through his mind: that was exactly how his neighbour greeted him every morning and looked at him thoughtfully whenever their eyes met by chance. Then each would go their separate ways about their business: they would head off with their buckets to the olive grove, whilst he would head for the shore.
Whilst the attackers were searching the office, the owner discreetly pressed a hidden security call button. Barely a few minutes had passed when sirens pierced the night-time silence.
None of them managed to escape.
During a search of the detainees, the police found communication devices, instructions on how to gain access to crypto-assets, and equipment. Whilst investigators were checking this group’s possible links to an international network specialising in the extortion of digital assets, Rosenblatt was allowed to ask just one question.
‘Why did you do this?’
Manuel looked out of the window, where storm clouds hung over the old olive trees, and pretended not to have heard the question. Daniela was silent for a long time and, tilting her head slightly to one side, looked at Adam. Then she replied quietly:
‘Money. Thirteen coins.’
Just one sentence, spoken without a hint of remorse. This truth stunned Adam. Rosenblatt realised: the most dangerous person is the one who has been greeting you for years, smiling, winking at you, and walking past every day with two old buckets.
In the world of cryptocurrency, the greatest vulnerability often lies not in encryption algorithms, but in human trust. It is social engineering, gathering information about the victim and physical coercion that remain among the most effective methods of stealing digital assets. So, in reality, protecting your crypto wallet does not begin with a password or a seed phrase, but with being wary of people who know more about your wealth than they ought to.
