Mr Crypto_ 加密先生

@Walrus 🦭/acc #walrus $WAL
When I look at the crypto space today, I feel that most people are still obsessed with the visible layers: tokens, prices, narratives, applications, and short-term trends. Very few stop and think deeply about the invisible infrastructure that everything depends on. Over time, I have come to believe that data availability and long-term storage are not side problems; they are foundational. This is where my interest in Walrus Protocol began. Walrus is not a loud project. It does not rely on hype-driven marketing or exaggerated promises. Instead, it quietly focuses on one of the most underestimated problems in the digital world: how do we make data truly permanent, verifiable, and available in an environment where failure is normal and trust is limited? This thesis is my attempt to explain Walrus in simple, human language, the same way I would explain it to myself while doing serious research, without shortcuts, templates, or buzzwords.

The modern internet gives us the illusion of permanence, but in reality it is extremely fragile. Links die, websites vanish, servers shut down, and platforms change policies without warning. We have all experienced “404 not found” errors, broken archives, and missing content. This problem becomes far more serious when you realize that blockchains, NFTs, DeFi protocols, AI systems, and even governance frameworks depend on off-chain data. If that data disappears, the blockchain record may remain intact, but the meaning behind it collapses. Most systems today simply assume availability. They trust that servers will stay online, companies will keep operating, and incentives will not change. Walrus starts from the opposite assumption: things will fail. Nodes will go offline. Actors will behave selfishly. Infrastructure will be attacked or abandoned. The system must still work despite all of this. That single assumption shapes the entire architecture of Walrus.
Walrus is not trying to be a general-purpose cloud storage replacement like Google Drive or AWS. It is also not just another IPFS-style file-sharing network. Its goal is more specific and more difficult: to provide strong, cryptographically verifiable guarantees that data remains available over time, even in adversarial conditions. In simple terms, Walrus treats data as a long-term liability that must be actively defended, not as a passive file that is assumed to exist. This philosophical difference is important because it aligns much more closely with how real financial systems, legal records, AI models, and digital identities need to operate. These systems cannot afford silent data loss.

At the technical core of Walrus is its storage and encoding model, often discussed through its RedStuff approach. Instead of storing full copies of files across many nodes, which is expensive and inefficient, Walrus breaks data into encoded fragments using advanced erasure coding techniques. These fragments are distributed across a large set of independent storage nodes. The key idea is that only a subset of these fragments is required to reconstruct the original data. This means the system can tolerate multiple node failures without losing availability. From an economic perspective, this drastically reduces storage overhead compared to naive replication. From a security perspective, it increases resilience against targeted attacks or coordinated outages. From a systems perspective, it allows Walrus to scale without exploding costs.
One of the strongest aspects of Walrus is that it does not rely on trust-based promises. Storage nodes are not simply paid and hoped to be honest. They must regularly produce cryptographic proofs that they are still storing the data they committed to. These proofs are verifiable and enforceable. If a node fails to prove storage, it loses rewards and risks penalties. This creates a powerful incentive structure where honest behavior is economically rational and dishonest behavior is punished. In my view, this is one of the most important properties of any decentralized infrastructure: the system should not rely on goodwill. It should rely on incentives that align individual behavior with network health.
Walrus is closely integrated with the Sui ecosystem, and this relationship makes architectural sense. Sui focuses on high-throughput execution, parallelism, and efficient handling of on-chain objects. Walrus complements this by acting as a durable storage layer for large data objects that do not belong directly on a high-performance execution chain. Instead of forcing everything onto the blockchain, Walrus allows developers to separate computation from storage while preserving verifiability. This modular approach reflects a broader shift in blockchain design, where specialized layers handle specific responsibilities instead of one chain trying to do everything.
When I think about real-world use cases, Walrus becomes even more compelling. NFTs are often marketed as permanent digital assets, but in practice many rely on centralized or semi-centralized storage solutions. If the underlying media disappears, the NFT loses its value and meaning. Walrus offers a path toward truly persistent NFTs. Rollups and modular blockchains require reliable data availability layers to function securely; Walrus can serve as neutral infrastructure for publishing and retrieving transaction data. AI systems depend on massive datasets and trained models that must remain accessible and auditable over time; Walrus provides a way to store these artifacts with cryptographic guarantees instead of blind trust. Even governance systems and legal records benefit from storage that is verifiable, censorship-resistant, and long-lasting.
The WAL token plays a critical role in coordinating all of this activity. It is not just a speculative asset; it is the economic glue that binds users, storage providers, and the protocol together. WAL is used to pay for storage, incentivize honest participation, and enforce penalties when rules are broken. This ties resource usage directly to cost, which is essential for sustainability. Systems that give away resources for free tend to attract abuse. Systems that price resources properly tend to survive. From my analysis, WAL is designed more like infrastructure fuel than a hype-driven governance token, and that distinction matters over the long term.
Of course, Walrus is not without risks. Infrastructure adoption is slow. Developers need time to integrate new storage paradigms. Education is required because decentralized storage is conceptually different from traditional cloud services. Competition exists from other data availability and storage projects, some of which are better known or more aggressively marketed. There is also ecosystem risk: Walrus benefits from broader adoption of modular blockchain architectures and data-intensive applications. These risks are real, but they are also typical for any project operating at the base layer of a technology stack.
When I compare Walrus to centralized cloud storage, the trade-off is clear. Centralized systems are easy and familiar, but they require trust and offer no cryptographic guarantees. When I compare Walrus to earlier decentralized storage solutions, I see a stronger focus on verifiable availability and economic enforcement rather than simple content addressing. Walrus is less about convenience and more about correctness. That makes it less flashy, but more durable.
In the long run, I believe Walrus represents a shift in how we think about digital memory. If blockchains are global ledgers, then systems like Walrus are global memory layers. As more value, identity, and coordination move on-chain, the importance of reliable data availability will only increase. The projects that solve this problem quietly and correctly may not dominate headlines, but they will sit underneath everything that matters.
My final view is simple. Walrus does not promise to change the world overnight. It does not rely on hype cycles or emotional narratives. It assumes failure, selfishness, and decay — and builds around those assumptions. That is a sign of mature engineering and realistic thinking. In a space filled with optimism and speculation, Walrus stands out as infrastructure built for reality. Over time, that may prove to be its greatest strength.

@Dusk #dusk $DUSK
Quand je regarde Dusk Network, je ne vois pas une blockchain cherchant à gagner la course habituelle du crypto en matière de vitesse, d'excitation ou d'attention à court terme. Je vois une thèse d'infrastructure qui part d'une vérité bien plus inconfortable : les marchés financiers réels ne peuvent pas fonctionner sur des blockchains qui révèlent tout par défaut. Pendant plus d'une décennie, le crypto a célébré la transparence radicale comme une vertu morale et technique. Ce mindset a bien fonctionné pour les expérimentations initiales, la participation du grand public et les systèmes ouverts. Mais dès que l'on tente de transférer la finance réglementée sur la chaîne — titres, obligations, fonds, actifs réels conformes —, cette même transparence devient un défaut structurel. Dusk Network existe parce qu'elle prend ce défaut au sérieux et construit à partir de lui, plutôt que de l'ignorer.

Dans le paysage en évolution des actifs numériques, le stockage n'est plus une simple question technique secondaire — il constitue une colonne vertébrale fondamentale qui détermine la valeur, la confiance et l'utilité juridique. Walrus ($WAL ) se positionne comme un protocole de stockage décentralisé conçu pour répondre aux besoins des écosystèmes numériques modernes, des NFT éphémères aux actifs du monde réel (RWAs) ayant force obligatoire. Comprendre pourquoi un stockage fiable est essentiel, comment Walrus aborde ce problème, et ce que les parties prenantes doivent prendre en compte peut aider les créateurs, les investisseurs et les institutions à prendre des décisions plus éclairées quant à l'emplacement et à la méthode de stockage des données critiques des actifs.

La vision de Web3 a toujours été passionnante : un internet décentralisé où les utilisateurs possèdent leurs données, les applications fonctionnent sans intermédiaires et l'innovation circule librement. Imaginez des applications alimentées par la blockchain, des agents d'intelligence artificielle prenant des décisions seuls, et des actifs numériques tels que des NFT ou des vidéos stockés pour toujours sans dépendre des grandes entreprises technologiques. Mais pendant des années, un obstacle majeur a freiné tout cela — un stockage fiable et abordable pour de grands fichiers. Les services centralisés traditionnels comme Amazon ou Google sont rapides et peu coûteux, mais ils comportent des risques : la censure, les violations de données et des coûts élevés à long terme. Des solutions décentralisées existaient déjà, mais elles étaient souvent trop chères, trop lentes ou trop complexes. C'est là que le protocole Walrus intervient, résolvant silencieusement ces problèmes et comblant le fossé pour rendre Web3 véritablement pratique.

When we talk about blockchain privacy, we usually end up talking about the trade-offs. The old assumption has always been that if you want privacy, you have to sacrifice speed. It makes sense, right? Encrypting data takes computing power, and verifying that encrypted data (Zero-Knowledge proofs) takes even more. For the longest time, I believed that privacy chains were destined to be slower than their transparent counterparts like Solana or Binance Smart Chain. But after diving deep into the architecture of Dusk Network, specifically their new Virtual Machine called Piecrust, I’m realizing that this assumption is outdated. The team at Dusk hasn't just built a privacy chain; they have rebuilt the engine itself to make privacy fast enough for Wall Street.

To understand why Piecrust is such a big deal, we have to look at what it is replacing. Most chains today still rely on the EVM (Ethereum Virtual Machine). The EVM was revolutionary in 2015, but for modern Zero-Knowledge (ZK) applications, it is incredibly inefficient. It uses a 256-bit word size, which is great for cryptography but terrible for general computing speed because your CPU (which is 64-bit) has to do extra work to process those massive numbers. Piecrust, on the other hand, is a WASM-based (WebAssembly) virtual machine. This means it speaks the same language as your web browser and modern hardware. It runs natively on 64-bit architecture, stripping away the heavy overhead that slows down legacy blockchains.

The real "magic" inside Piecrust, however, is something developers call Zero-Copy Memory Access. This sounds super technical, but the concept is actually simple. in a standard blockchain VM, when a smart contract wants to read data, the computer has to copy that data from the storage to the memory, process it, and then copy it back. It’s like going to the library, photocopying a book, taking it home to read, and then bringing it back. Piecrust essentially lets the smart contract read the book right there on the shelf without moving it. By eliminating the need to copy data back and forth, the execution speed skyrockets. This isn't just a 10% improvement; we are talking about a fundamental architectural shift that allows for thousands of operations in the time it takes an EVM chain to do one.

This speed is critical because Dusk isn't just processing simple token transfers; it is processing Zero-Knowledge Proofs (ZKPs). In the Dusk ecosystem, almost everything involves a proof—proving you have funds, proving you are KYC compliant, proving you own a security—all without revealing your identity. Generating and verifying these proofs is mathematically heavy. If you tried to run this level of privacy on Ethereum, the gas fees would be astronomical, and the network would clog instantly. Piecrust is optimized specifically for these heavy ZK computations. It acts like a specialized graphics card (GPU) designed for gaming, whereas the EVM is like a standard office CPU. It handles the heavy load of privacy so effortlessly that the user doesn't even notice the complexity happening in the background.

From a developer's perspective, Piecrust is a breath of fresh air because of its integration with Rust. If you follow the developer community, you know that Rust is eating the world. It’s the language of choice for Solana, Polkadot, and now Dusk. By building Piecrust to support Rust (via the RusK platform), Dusk opens the door to high-performance coding that Solidity just can’t match. Solidity is easy to learn, but it’s easy to write buggy, slow code. Rust forces you to write safe, memory-efficient code. This means that dApps built on Dusk aren't just faster; they are inherently more secure against the kind of hacks we see every week in DeFi.

When we look at benchmarks—even purely theoretical ones at this stage—the implications for "Finality" are massive. In finance, Finality is everything. If I trade a stock, I need to know instantly that the trade is done. I can’t wait 15 minutes for block confirmations. Because Piecrust executes smart contracts so quickly, it allows the Dusk consensus mechanism (Proof-of-Blind-Bid) to reach finality almost instantly. The VM doesn't become the bottleneck. In many other chains, the network can handle the transactions, but the VM takes too long to process the smart contract logic. Piecrust removes that bottleneck, ensuring that the software speed matches the network speed.

This performance is exactly why I’m bullish on the "RegDeFi" (Regulated DeFi) narrative for Dusk. Think about what a regulated token needs: it needs to check a whitelist, verify a digital identity, check compliance rules, and settle the trade. On a slow VM, adding all these checks would make the user experience miserable. It would take forever. With Piecrust, these compliance checks happen in milliseconds. This is the difference between a theoretical science project and a product that the European stock exchange (like NPEX) can actually use. Real-world adoption requires real-world speed, and Piecrust delivers that.

In conclusion, it is easy to get lost in the hype of token prices and ignore the engine under the hood. But as an investor or a tech enthusiast, you have to look at the fundamentals. Piecrust proves that Dusk isn't just copying Ethereum and adding a privacy mixer. They have engineered a purpose-built machine for the future of private, compliant finance. By moving to a WASM-based, Zero-Copy architecture, they have solved the "privacy speed limit." While the rest of the market fights over expensive Layer-2 solutions to scale, Dusk has fixed the problem at Layer-1. That is a technological edge that is very hard to beat.
@Dusk #dusk $DUSK

Si vous avez porté attention aux cycles du marché des cryptomonnaies au cours des dernières années, vous avez probablement remarqué un changement de narratif. En 2017, il s'agissait des ICO ; en 2020, c'était l'été DeFi et les NFT. Mais en regardant vers l'avenir de cette industrie, l'argent intelligent ne cherche pas le prochain "dog coin". Il cherche le pont qui relie enfin les milliards de dollars de la finance traditionnelle (TradFi) à l'efficacité de la technologie blockchain. Nous parlons d'adoption institutionnelle depuis une décennie, mais la réalité est que les institutions ne peuvent pas utiliser les blockchains publiques dans leur forme actuelle. C'est ici que Dusk Network ($DUSK ) intervient, non pas comme un simple concurrent, mais comme le seul protocole conçu spécifiquement pour résoudre le problème de confidentialité et de conformité qui a tenu Wall Street à l'écart.

Les bilans importants — pensez aux grandes banques, aux fonds de pension, aux hedge funds et aux gestionnaires d'actifs contrôlant des milliards de dollars — ont observé la croissance du DeFi avec intérêt, mais principalement à distance. Ils ont tenté de petits expérimentations : se risquer dans des protocoles de prêt ou des fermes de rendement sur des chaînes publiques. Mais la plupart se retirent rapidement. Pourquoi ? Le DeFi classique semble trop risqué, trop exposé et trop éloigné des normes réglementaires réelles. Alors que nous approchons janvier 2026, quelque chose change. Ces mêmes institutions se tournent discrètement vers Dusk Network, une blockchain axée sur la confidentialité, conçue précisément pour leurs besoins. Ce n'est pas une autre application DeFi flashy ; c'est une infrastructure sérieuse pour déplacer de l'argent réel en toute sécurité sur la chaîne.

We talk a lot in crypto about trustlessness. We say the whole point of blockchains is to remove the need to trust anyone. You don't have to trust a bank to hold your money. You don’t have to trust a broker to execute your trade. The code is law, and it’s all out in the open.
But there’s a quiet, massive exception to this rule that we’ve all just gotten used to: we blindly trust that things are available when we need them.
Let me explain what I mean. It’s Monday morning. You want to swap some tokens on a popular decentralized exchange. You connect your wallet, sign the transaction, and… it hangs. “Network congestion,” the message says. You try to bridge assets to another chain. The transaction goes through, but your funds are stuck in limbo for hours. “Bridge is slow today,” you’re told. You go to withdraw from a liquidity pool, and the button is greyed out. “Temporarily unavailable.”
In each of these moments, you’re not experiencing trustlessness. You’re experiencing a failure of assumed availability. The entire system assumed that the underlying infrastructure—the nodes, the validators, the relayers, the oracles—would be online, uncongested, and functioning perfectly at the precise second you needed it. And when that assumption breaks, you, the user, are left holding the bag.
This is the internet’s oldest problem, just dressed up in crypto clothes. It’s why websites used to have those “Under Construction” GIFs. The developer assumed the server would be up. It’s why cloud computing became a trillion-dollar industry—to guarantee availability. But in DeFi, we’re still building multi-billion dollar protocols on top of what amounts to a “best effort” promise.
The cost of this assumption is more than just frustration. It’s real, quantifiable risk. Imagine a scenario where a sudden market crash triggers a wave of liquidations on a lending protocol. Everyone rushes to withdraw or adjust their positions. The network congests. Gas prices spike to $500. The very tools you need to save your collateral become unusable. In traditional finance, this is called a “bank run,” and there are (flawed) systems to handle it. In our “trustless” world, the system just… chokes. The assumption of availability fails, and real value is destroyed.
For years, we’ve papered over this problem with bandaids. We use gas auctions (who pays the most gets through). We build bloated, expensive redundancy (run 100 nodes hoping 51 are honest). We add “emergency withdrawal” functions that are themselves complex and risky smart contracts. We are treating the symptoms, not the disease.
The disease is the lack of verifiable, real-time proof.
We need to move from assumed availability to proven availability. We shouldn’t have to hope a bridge is operational; we should be able to see a live, cryptographic proof that its watchers are online and its state is correct. We shouldn’t guess if a layer-2 is congested; we should have a live feed of its capacity, signed by the network itself. The infrastructure needs to attest to its own health, in real time, on-chain.
This is where my week of digging into Walrus Protocol shifted my perspective. At its core, Walrus isn’t just another blockchain trying to be faster. It’s architected from the ground up to tackle this exact problem of proven state availability.
Their approach isn’t about throwing more hardware at the problem. It’s about creating a system where the availability of data and execution is an integral, provable part of the consensus. They use a concept called Proof-of-Availability that’s elegantly woven into their validation process. In simple terms, validators on Walrus don’t just agree on what happened; they also continuously prove that the data needed to verify what happened is readily accessible and hasn’t been withheld.
Think of it like this: On most chains, validators are like librarians who agree on what books are in the library’s ledger. On Walrus, they’re also required to continuously prove they haven’t locked the library doors or hidden the keys. They must show, cryptographically, that the “books” (the state data) are on the shelves for anyone to read, at any time.
The implications of this are subtle but profound. For a user, it means when you interact with a dApp on Walrus, the protocol itself is giving you a verifiable guarantee that the pieces needed to complete your action are present and accounted for. It turns the “best effort” promise into a cryptographically enforced commitment.
For a developer, it’s even bigger. You can now build applications with availability-aware logic. You can design a smart contract that says, “Only execute this critical transaction if the proof-of-availability for the required oracle data is fresh and valid.” You move from defensive, reactive coding (“what do we do if the oracle fails?”) to proactive, assured execution (“we will only run if the oracle is proven live”).
This is the realistic, human-scale progress we need. We don’t need more unrealistic promises of “infinite scalability.” We need to solve the basic, frustrating failures that happen every day. We need systems that acknowledge the real world, where things go offline, where networks get busy, where data gets lost—and build a verifiable proof of health directly into their DNA.
Walrus’s answer isn’t a magic bullet that will make all downtime vanish. But it is a fundamental shift in philosophy: from hoping things are available, to knowing they are. In a space built on removing trust, proving availability might just be the final, most important trust to eliminate. It’s about making the system not just trustless, but reliably, provably there when you need it most. And after years of staring at spinning wheels and failed transactions, that feels less like a tech upgrade and more like a long-overdue dose of respect for the user’s time, money, and peace of mind.
@Walrus 🦭/acc #walrus $WAL