On August 12, 2025, in a federal court in Manhattan, New York, a heavy atmosphere filled the air. When the bailiff pushed open the side door and Do Kwon, dressed in bright yellow prison attire, slowly stood up, a barely noticeable commotion arose in the audience. That prison uniform was like an invisible shackle, firmly trapping this man who once commanded the crypto world.
Years of fleeing felt like an endless chase, and the iron bars of the prison added a touch of desolation, making his once full and round cheeks thin and sunken. The carefully styled hair was long gone, replaced by the uniform buzz cut of inmates, the scalp gleaming pale under the courtroom lights. Most poignant were his eyes — once sparkling with ambition and confidence, as if they could see the future of cryptocurrency, now only showing an indelible fatigue and emptiness.
This 33-year-old South Korean man had a life story filled with legends. From a top student in Seoul's elite schools to a prodigy on Stanford's campus, from an entrepreneur pointing out the landscape from Singapore's skyscrapers to the 'wealth creation myth' adored by the crypto market, he was once the darling of the entire crypto world. But now, he stands here as the central figure in the largest financial fraud case in history, the source of nightmares for hundreds of thousands of investors.
In the courtroom sketch, Do Kwon always kept his head down, his shoulders slightly trembling, and his hands clenched tightly into fists in front of him, the knuckles turning white from the effort. When the judge asked about his willingness to plead guilty, his voice was hoarse, as if sandpapered: 'In 2021, I made false and misleading statements regarding the re-pegging of TerraUSD. What I did was wrong, and I want to apologize for my actions.' In these simple words, there was not much remorse, more a sense of helplessness as the dust settled.
What awaits him will be years of imprisonment and astronomical fines. But for those who suffered heavy losses due to his 'myth' crumbling, this is far from enough. The evaporation of 40 billion dollars is not just a cold number; behind it are countless families' life savings turned to nothing, elderly people losing their retirement funds, young people suffocating under debt, and even some choosing to end their young lives in despair.
Time is always the cruelest judge. It not only changed Do Kwon's appearance in just a few years but also completely destroyed everything he once had — wealth, reputation, status, and the admiration and praise that once surrounded him.
Prosecutor Damian Williams defined this plea as 'an important milestone in the enforcement of cryptocurrency fraud cases' when addressing the media outside the court. But the word 'milestone' is too cold; it cannot piece together the shattered families, cannot wipe away the tears from the faces of the elderly, and cannot awaken those young people who left in despair.
From the bustling streets of Myeongdong in Seoul to the tree-lined paths of Stanford, from the dazzling night view of Marina Bay in Singapore to the iron bars and high walls of Montenegro prison, Do Kwon's life trajectory resembles a rapidly ascending and then suddenly falling parabola. The more glorious it was, the more embarrassing it is now; the higher he stood, the more tragic the fall, ultimately crashing down to the ground of reality, leaving only a mess and endless sighs.
