The Shitcoin Legend
At 3:17 a.m., Chen Hao’s phone buzzed.
Half-asleep, he picked it up and saw someone in the Binance group chat had posted: “ORCA is live. Are we going in?”
He rubbed his eyes and opened the candlestick chart. ORCA was still hovering around 2.277, trading volume was low, and the comments section was dead quiet. Someone in the group sneered, asking what kind of shitcoin this was and warning everyone to stay away—or they’d be left holding the bag.
Chen Hao hesitated for a full forty seconds.
Then he spent the last 3,000 yuan he had on a market buy. Not because he was especially bullish, but because he’d just been liquidated on an ETH futures trade, and this was all he had left in his account. Better to take a chance than wait around to slowly go broke.
After buying, he fell asleep.
When he woke up around noon the next day, ORCA had climbed to 3.162. Thinking he was seeing things, he refreshed the page. No mistake: 3.162. It had surged nearly 40 percent in a single day.
His hands started to tremble.
The group chat had gone wild. The people who’d mocked the shitcoin yesterday were now frantically asking where to buy. Some said they were going to chase the rally; others said to get out fast. Chen Hao stared at the screen, torn between two voices in his head. One said, “Sell now and lock in your gains.” The other said, “This is just the beginning. NMR is up 30 percent too, and the market’s looking great today. ORCA can definitely go higher.”
He remembered what had happened the previous month. MINA had fallen from 0.15 to 0.11, and he’d cut his losses at 0.12. The very next day, MINA bounced back. He’d lost 800 yuan, but if he hadn’t sold, he’d still be sitting on a loss. So he’d learned a lesson: in crypto, hesitation costs you money.
He decided to sell half.
He sold 1,500 ORCA at 3.16, bringing in nearly 4,700 yuan. Looking at his account balance, he suddenly felt like none of it was real. Just three days earlier, he’d been fretting over the 3,000 yuan he’d lost to liquidation. Now he’d not only made it back, he was up more than a thousand.
He left the rest of his ORCA alone.
Over the next three days, ORCA peaked at 3.241. Chen Hao sold everything he had left at 3.2. This time, he didn’t hesitate or second-guess himself. He felt no unnecessary emotions at all.
By the end of the trade, he’d turned 3,000 yuan into nearly 6,000.
It wasn’t much, but it meant a lot to him. Not because of the 3,000 yuan profit, but because he’d finally learned something: in the world of shitcoins, staying alive matters more than how much you make.
He opened his notes app and typed a line: Never go all in. Always leave yourself a way out.
Then he turned off his phone, went out, and had a bowl of beef noodles.
#ORCA #土狗币传奇 #BinanceSquare
At 3:17 a.m., Chen Hao’s phone buzzed.
Half-asleep, he picked it up and saw someone in the Binance group chat had posted: “ORCA is live. Are we going in?”
He rubbed his eyes and opened the candlestick chart. ORCA was still hovering around 2.277, trading volume was low, and the comments section was dead quiet. Someone in the group sneered, asking what kind of shitcoin this was and warning everyone to stay away—or they’d be left holding the bag.
Chen Hao hesitated for a full forty seconds.
Then he spent the last 3,000 yuan he had on a market buy. Not because he was especially bullish, but because he’d just been liquidated on an ETH futures trade, and this was all he had left in his account. Better to take a chance than wait around to slowly go broke.
After buying, he fell asleep.
When he woke up around noon the next day, ORCA had climbed to 3.162. Thinking he was seeing things, he refreshed the page. No mistake: 3.162. It had surged nearly 40 percent in a single day.
His hands started to tremble.
The group chat had gone wild. The people who’d mocked the shitcoin yesterday were now frantically asking where to buy. Some said they were going to chase the rally; others said to get out fast. Chen Hao stared at the screen, torn between two voices in his head. One said, “Sell now and lock in your gains.” The other said, “This is just the beginning. NMR is up 30 percent too, and the market’s looking great today. ORCA can definitely go higher.”
He remembered what had happened the previous month. MINA had fallen from 0.15 to 0.11, and he’d cut his losses at 0.12. The very next day, MINA bounced back. He’d lost 800 yuan, but if he hadn’t sold, he’d still be sitting on a loss. So he’d learned a lesson: in crypto, hesitation costs you money.
He decided to sell half.
He sold 1,500 ORCA at 3.16, bringing in nearly 4,700 yuan. Looking at his account balance, he suddenly felt like none of it was real. Just three days earlier, he’d been fretting over the 3,000 yuan he’d lost to liquidation. Now he’d not only made it back, he was up more than a thousand.
He left the rest of his ORCA alone.
Over the next three days, ORCA peaked at 3.241. Chen Hao sold everything he had left at 3.2. This time, he didn’t hesitate or second-guess himself. He felt no unnecessary emotions at all.
By the end of the trade, he’d turned 3,000 yuan into nearly 6,000.
It wasn’t much, but it meant a lot to him. Not because of the 3,000 yuan profit, but because he’d finally learned something: in the world of shitcoins, staying alive matters more than how much you make.
He opened his notes app and typed a line: Never go all in. Always leave yourself a way out.
Then he turned off his phone, went out, and had a bowl of beef noodles.
#ORCA #土狗币传奇 #BinanceSquare