Night of Liquidation
At 3 a.m., the blue light from his phone screen washed over Chen’s face. He hadn’t slept well for three straight days.
The MOVR candlesticks were wildly flickering before his eyes. During the day it had been hovering around $1.8, but at night it suddenly shot up like it had been injected with adrenaline—2.2, 2.5, 2.8. His 50x long was up by more than triple, and the account showed an unrealized profit of 80,000 USDT.
“Just wait—surely it’ll hit three.” He muttered, his fingers hovering above the close button, then pulling back again.
The group chat was already in chaos. Someone shouted, “MOVR is going to five!” Others posted screenshots of profits in the hundreds of thousands. And then people started calculating how many cars you could buy if it ever climbed to ten. Chen’s heartbeat sped up more and more. He remembered the 20,000 yuan he’d lost last month. He remembered what his girlfriend had said—that he was “spending all day staring at his phone and not doing anything productive.” And he remembered the vow he’d made: this time, he would earn it all back.
2.9, 3.0, 3.2.
His eyes locked onto the numbers; even his breathing turned rapid. At 3.34, right when it reached the intraday high, he finally pressed the button. Not to close—he added to the position. He staked the remaining 20,000 USDT in full, opening a 100x long.
“This last wave—make the profit and get out.”
Then the nightmare began.
The price instantly dumped from 3.34—3.1, 2.8, 2.5. His 100x long was liquidated at 2.7, and his account balance became zero. Right after that, the price kept falling to 2.4, and that earlier 50x long of his didn’t survive either.
In two seconds, 100,000 USDT vanished into nothing.
Chen put the phone down and stared at the ceiling. Outside, insects chirped in the early morning. The convenience store downstairs still had its lights on. Suddenly, he remembered how, three years ago when he’d just entered the crypto world, he only had 5,000 yuan. He bought Bitcoin—when it rose, he’d thought he was a genius. Later he added leverage, and the genius turned into a crop of green onions.
The phone lit up again. Someone in the group shouted, “Buy the dip on MOVR.” He glanced at it, then gave a bitter smile and turned the phone over.
The next morning, MOVR was back at 2.895. If he hadn’t added to his position—if he’d closed at 3.2—he would have made about 60,000 yuan by now. But there’s no such thing as “if” in this world.
Chen opened his banking app and checked his balance. He had 3,000 left for living expenses. He took a deep breath, closed the app, and went out to work.
Life still has to go on. It’s just that tonight, he decided to sleep a little earlier.
#合约爆仓 #MOVR #Cryptocurrency story
At 3 a.m., the blue light from his phone screen washed over Chen’s face. He hadn’t slept well for three straight days.
The MOVR candlesticks were wildly flickering before his eyes. During the day it had been hovering around $1.8, but at night it suddenly shot up like it had been injected with adrenaline—2.2, 2.5, 2.8. His 50x long was up by more than triple, and the account showed an unrealized profit of 80,000 USDT.
“Just wait—surely it’ll hit three.” He muttered, his fingers hovering above the close button, then pulling back again.
The group chat was already in chaos. Someone shouted, “MOVR is going to five!” Others posted screenshots of profits in the hundreds of thousands. And then people started calculating how many cars you could buy if it ever climbed to ten. Chen’s heartbeat sped up more and more. He remembered the 20,000 yuan he’d lost last month. He remembered what his girlfriend had said—that he was “spending all day staring at his phone and not doing anything productive.” And he remembered the vow he’d made: this time, he would earn it all back.
2.9, 3.0, 3.2.
His eyes locked onto the numbers; even his breathing turned rapid. At 3.34, right when it reached the intraday high, he finally pressed the button. Not to close—he added to the position. He staked the remaining 20,000 USDT in full, opening a 100x long.
“This last wave—make the profit and get out.”
Then the nightmare began.
The price instantly dumped from 3.34—3.1, 2.8, 2.5. His 100x long was liquidated at 2.7, and his account balance became zero. Right after that, the price kept falling to 2.4, and that earlier 50x long of his didn’t survive either.
In two seconds, 100,000 USDT vanished into nothing.
Chen put the phone down and stared at the ceiling. Outside, insects chirped in the early morning. The convenience store downstairs still had its lights on. Suddenly, he remembered how, three years ago when he’d just entered the crypto world, he only had 5,000 yuan. He bought Bitcoin—when it rose, he’d thought he was a genius. Later he added leverage, and the genius turned into a crop of green onions.
The phone lit up again. Someone in the group shouted, “Buy the dip on MOVR.” He glanced at it, then gave a bitter smile and turned the phone over.
The next morning, MOVR was back at 2.895. If he hadn’t added to his position—if he’d closed at 3.2—he would have made about 60,000 yuan by now. But there’s no such thing as “if” in this world.
Chen opened his banking app and checked his balance. He had 3,000 left for living expenses. He took a deep breath, closed the app, and went out to work.
Life still has to go on. It’s just that tonight, he decided to sleep a little earlier.
#合约爆仓 #MOVR #Cryptocurrency story