The wind howled across the Mongolian steppe, but inside the shipping container-turned-mining farm, the only sound was the jet-engine whine of a hundred Whatsminer M50S units. To an outsider, it was unbearable. To Amara, it was the sound of money.
On unit #47, the status light bled from green to amber. firmware whatsminer
“Not now,” she whispered, grabbing her ruggedized laptop. The wind howled across the Mongolian steppe, but