#Dogecoin This week, a raw, farewell note from Ken Chan, co-founder of the Aevo derivatives exchange, has taken Asian crypto circles by storm. The line that stopped everyone mid-scroll:
“I am NOT building a new financial system. I built a casino.”
Originally posted in English on X, the thread was quickly translated, summarized by Chinese crypto media, and feverishly shared in Korean Telegram and Kakao groups. Within days it racked up millions of views and became the most discussed topic among traders from Singapore to Seoul.
From Ayn Rand to Total Disillusionment
Chan’s post is less a rant and more a public autopsy of a shattered ideology.
He openly describes his origin story: a self-proclaimed “dreamer libertarian” who maxed out donations to Gary Johnson in 2016 after binge-reading Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead in university. Bitcoin’s promise of borderless, seizure-resistant money felt like the real-world manifestation of everything he believed in.
“Carrying a billion dollars in my head across any border will always be one of the coolest ideas humanity ever had,” he writes.
Eight years and multiple bull/bear cycles later, the dream is dead.
He points to the endless Layer-1 casino of 2021–2024 (Aptos, Sui, Sei, Near, ICP, Ton, and dozens more) where hundreds of billions in VC and retail money were poured in with the stated mission of “building the next Solana.” The result? Almost zero meaningful adoption outside speculative trading and a trail of 95–99% drawdowns.
“We raised money to put the casino on the moon. Then we tried to put it on Mars. Enough.”
Life After Aevo
Chan quietly stepped away from Aevo in May 2025. The AEVO token now sits at roughly $45 million FDV, down ~99% from its all-time high.
He hasn’t retreated into silence or VC advisory roles like many burned-out founders. Instead, he’s literally building a personal satellite called KENSAT, scheduled to ride a Falcon 9 in June 2026.
In Asia, where saving face usually matters more than brutal honesty, Chan’s willingness to call the industry exactly what it became (an elaborate, leveraged gambling hall dressed in libertarian ideology) has struck a nerve. The post is being shared not with mockery, but with a mix of sadness and recognition.
For many who lived through the same four-year rollercoaster in Asia’s hyper-competitive trading culture, it feels less like an exit letter and more like a mirror.$BTC
