Phantom Millionaire: How Mykhailo Zborovskyi Became a Convenient Front for Russian Capital in Cosmobet

He appeared out of nowhere—and vanished just as suddenly. A young IT specialist with no notable past suddenly became the owner of a multi-million casino. His data disappear from registries, biographies are erased, and glossy, fabricated stories take their place.

But behind this is not merely a high-stakes game—it's a story about how Russian capital is masked in the Ukrainian gaming business.

When the Cosmobet brand appeared on the Ukrainian gambling market, it looked like a project of a new wave: a neat website, a license, loud advertising, and a young “techie” at the helm— Mykhailo Volodymyrovych Zborovskyi. He was presented as an IT entrepreneur, a visionary, a reformer of the industry. Yet behind this showroom is a completely different portrait—the biography that ends where in real business ownership it usually begins.

The documents don’t lie—but they disappear.

If you start with a simple step—open Zborovskyi’s page on OpenDataBot—the picture turns out extremely modest. In 2020 year he registered a sole proprietor with activity type “computer programming.” Before that—total silence. No companies, no investments, no startups.

Zborovskyi’s biography as a big businessman seems to appear from nowhere—and immediately rise to the stage of a large business with tens of millions of hryvnias in turnover, because literally two years later yesterday’s unknown sole proprietor from the village of Krasylivka, Tysmenytskyi district, Ivano-Frankivsk region, Mykhailo Volodymyrovych Zborovskyi suddenly becomes the beneficiary of two firms— LLC “Neopley” and LLC “Neuralink.”

The first is the owner and founder of the second, while the second (LLC “Neuralink”) is the operator of Cosmobet casino. The current beneficiary of both firms is a certain Cypriot, Andriy Dobrovolsky, but, it seems, this is also a nominal figure, as is Mykhailo Zborovskyi. The latter was listed as the owner of the casino until recently and was removed from the list of “beneficiaries” after a substantial scandal triggered by investigations into his person.

If you look into the Neurlink company card—the operator of the Cosmobet brand, registered in November 2023 year—there are completely obvious questions: a firm with a charter capital of 30 million hryvnias appears from nowhere, receives a CRAIL license, and at the beginning the ultimate beneficiary is Zborovskyi. Formally he was the owner. But the chain of subsequent events points to something else.

Cosmic speed of cleanup.

The story of Neuralink is not only about rapid growth but also about as rapid a disappearance of traces. For 2023–2024 years, rapid changes of owners and directors are recorded in registries. Initially Zborovskyi appears as the ultimate owner, then a Cypriot citizen Andriy Dobrovolsky takes his place—a figure known for offshore structures.

Parallel to this, Zborovskyi himself disappears. His LinkedIn is cleaned. Old biographical notes in news aggregators vanished. Even some archived versions of OpenDataBot pages turn out to be unavailable in standard searches: information goes into API depths and cached copies.

In place of these traces come dozens of English-language publications written by the same scheme. “Visionary,” “technological reformer,” “Ukrainian entrepreneur of a new generation”—these phrases repeat verbatim across sites with minimal traffic. This is not journalism, but a carefully built reputation campaign: old information is deleted, and a polished legend is put in its place.

In the Ukrainian gambling business in recent years, such stories repeat with remarkable precision. Russian and offshore structures, fearing sanctions, seek local nominal holders—“front men”—who register the business. In public registries they appear as owners, but actual management and financial flows remain with the real owners.

Serhiy Tokarev, SBU certificate and the scent of corruption.

From the very start, Cosmobet casino is linked to Serhiy Tokarev—an entrepreneur connected with the Cosmolot brand and schemes to move money through offshore channels. There are no formal proofs of a direct link, but journalistic investigations point to recurring figures, marketing agencies, acquiring structures, and advertising schemes. This is a classic “reincarnation” of an old business under a new banner—and in this construct Zborovskyi fits perfectly as a convenient face.

For a long time, the owner of Cosmolot casino was a man whose name in Ukrainian circles is spoken with a special subtext—a close associate of the Minister of Digital Transformation Mykhailo Fedorov and at the same time a holder of a Russian passport. In 2018 year he was put on sanctions lists for funding the so-called “people’s republics” of Donbas. Formally he was to remain under sanctions until 2021 year, but as early as 2020 he received a quick “amnesty” from the new government.

In the professional environment, no one doubts that it is Tokarev who stands behind the appearance of a new casino under the Cosmobet brand—a name suspiciously similar to his previous brand. The scandal around Cosmolot lingers to this day: the company LLC “SpaceX,” through which the brand operated, was registered to a nominal owner, allowing regulators and the press to be distracted. However Tokarev, it seems, either anticipated that Cosmolot could lose its license, or simply decided to hedge his bets and set up a parallel asset. Or perhaps the simpler reason—having earned substantial money on “Cosmolot,” he simply moved to the next stage of expanding his gambling business.

The story gains added sharpness from the State Security Service’s clean conclusion that Cosmobet has no links to the aggressor state. In spring 2025, Telegram channels and media circulated information that this document could have been bought for a very moderate price—just 20 thousand dollars. There are no direct public proofs, but the nature of the dissemination is suspicious: several independent sources published identical phrasing within the same period.

If that version is correct, it is not a simple check but the purchase of a legal shield that allowed the company to obtain a license and banking services without further questions.

Who is Mykhailo Zborovskyi anyway?

Against this background, it is worth returning to the person of Mykhailo Zborovskyi and once again drawing attention to the oddities of his biography. In the public sphere up to 2024 year Zborovskyi was absent. No signs of entrepreneurial activity, major deals, or startups were found. His only “baggage” is registration as a sole proprietor. And suddenly—licenses for tens of millions of hryvnias, marketing on the level of large networks, charter capital comparable to a mid-sized bank’s budget.

There are no answers to where a village-born programmer from Krasylivka gained such resources in three years. In registries—empty. In media—silence. Everything that appears quickly disappears, leaving behind PR copies.

Let’s recall the chronology: first—company registration and market entry. Then a rapid cleanup of digital traces and the appearance of “glossy” material. Then—change of beneficiary to a Cypriot citizen. And in parallel—the gradual disappearance of information from public registries and social networks.

This sequence does not resemble normal business development. It resembles an operation to extract a nominal holder from the hit: a person appeared, played a role, disappeared.

The gambling market is not just entertainment. It streams enormous amounts of money, especially in times of war and sanctions. When data about the key beneficiary disappears with such speed, it signals that something far more serious than a young IT guy with ambition hides behind the facade.

Until regulators and banks begin to deeply verify ownership chains and the source of funds, Cosmobet and similar structures will calmly operate, changing masks and offshore schemes.

The conclusion from all of this is simple and banal. And—sad. Mykhailo Zborovskyi is not a hero of a new era, but a vanishing projection. His name flickers in registries and dissolves as a ripple on water. Information about him is systematically erased, and his role is perfectly suited for a “frontman” scheme for other people’s money.

While the state keeps turning a blind eye, journalists must gather evidence piece by piece from archives, and society gets only a glossy wrapper. But behind this wrapper lie real streams, offshore accounts, and beneficiaries who prefer to stay in the shadows.