The Shitcoin Legend
At 3:30 a.m., in a rented room in one of Shenzhen’s urban villages, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He’d been scrolling through Binance Square for four hours straight, moving from trending posts to livestreams, then from livestreams to candlestick charts. His account balance was down to 1,200 yuan—his last bit of living money for the month.
“One more bet,” he murmured.
Earlier that day, he’d seen a post on Square saying that MET was showing unusual activity, with large transfers appearing on-chain. Chen Hao tapped in for a look. MET was trading at just 0.3018, with a pitifully small market cap and not even a proper project white paper. A classic shitcoin.
But he needed a chance to turn his luck around.
Three months earlier, he’d lost 20,000 yuan on the W token. Back then, W had fallen from 0.022 to 0.013. He’d stubbornly held on, refusing to sell, and finally cut his losses. That money had been meant for rent.
This time, he’d learned his lesson. He put in just 500 yuan and bought MET. As soon as he was done, he turned his phone face down on the table and forced himself not to check the price.
An hour later, he couldn’t help picking up his phone.
MET was up 15 percent.
His heart raced, and his fingers instinctively tightened around the phone case. Half an hour later, the gain had reached 30 percent. People on Square had started posting calls to buy, claiming MET was about to be listed on a major exchange. No one knew if the rumor was true, but the price was definitely taking off like a rocket.
0.38. 0.42. 0.45.
Chen Hao’s hands began to shake. His 500 yuan had turned into 830. Reason told him to sell and lock in his gains. But greed coiled around his mind like a snake.
“Wait a little longer. Maybe it’ll hit 0.50.”
At 3:47 a.m., MET surged to 0.48. His account showed an unrealized profit of nearly 1,000 yuan. It was the first time in three months he’d made money in crypto.
He took a deep breath and tapped Sell.
The moment the trade went through, he felt as if all the strength had been drained from him. It wasn’t disappointment, but a strange kind of calm. A thousand yuan wasn’t much, but it was enough to get him through the month.
The next morning, MET fell from 0.48 back to 0.35. Those who hadn’t sold watched all their profits disappear.
Chen Hao looked at the candlestick chart and gave a wry smile. He’d finally learned one thing: in the world of shitcoins, getting out in time is a win.
He opened Binance Square and posted:
“Got in with 500 yuan, got out with 1,000. Not much, but I made it out alive.”
Someone quickly commented: “Bro, take me with you next time.”
Chen Hao didn’t reply. He transferred the remaining 700 yuan into a flexible savings account and turned off his phone.
Outside the window, dawn broke over Shenzhen.
#MET #土狗币 #Cryptocurrency
At 3:30 a.m., in a rented room in one of Shenzhen’s urban villages, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He’d been scrolling through Binance Square for four hours straight, moving from trending posts to livestreams, then from livestreams to candlestick charts. His account balance was down to 1,200 yuan—his last bit of living money for the month.
“One more bet,” he murmured.
Earlier that day, he’d seen a post on Square saying that MET was showing unusual activity, with large transfers appearing on-chain. Chen Hao tapped in for a look. MET was trading at just 0.3018, with a pitifully small market cap and not even a proper project white paper. A classic shitcoin.
But he needed a chance to turn his luck around.
Three months earlier, he’d lost 20,000 yuan on the W token. Back then, W had fallen from 0.022 to 0.013. He’d stubbornly held on, refusing to sell, and finally cut his losses. That money had been meant for rent.
This time, he’d learned his lesson. He put in just 500 yuan and bought MET. As soon as he was done, he turned his phone face down on the table and forced himself not to check the price.
An hour later, he couldn’t help picking up his phone.
MET was up 15 percent.
His heart raced, and his fingers instinctively tightened around the phone case. Half an hour later, the gain had reached 30 percent. People on Square had started posting calls to buy, claiming MET was about to be listed on a major exchange. No one knew if the rumor was true, but the price was definitely taking off like a rocket.
0.38. 0.42. 0.45.
Chen Hao’s hands began to shake. His 500 yuan had turned into 830. Reason told him to sell and lock in his gains. But greed coiled around his mind like a snake.
“Wait a little longer. Maybe it’ll hit 0.50.”
At 3:47 a.m., MET surged to 0.48. His account showed an unrealized profit of nearly 1,000 yuan. It was the first time in three months he’d made money in crypto.
He took a deep breath and tapped Sell.
The moment the trade went through, he felt as if all the strength had been drained from him. It wasn’t disappointment, but a strange kind of calm. A thousand yuan wasn’t much, but it was enough to get him through the month.
The next morning, MET fell from 0.48 back to 0.35. Those who hadn’t sold watched all their profits disappear.
Chen Hao looked at the candlestick chart and gave a wry smile. He’d finally learned one thing: in the world of shitcoins, getting out in time is a win.
He opened Binance Square and posted:
“Got in with 500 yuan, got out with 1,000. Not much, but I made it out alive.”
Someone quickly commented: “Bro, take me with you next time.”
Chen Hao didn’t reply. He transferred the remaining 700 yuan into a flexible savings account and turned off his phone.
Outside the window, dawn broke over Shenzhen.
#MET #土狗币 #Cryptocurrency