The Shitcoin Saga
At three in the morning, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
Someone in the group chat posted a message: "GNS is about to take off. Get in now."
He glanced at the price: 0.386 USDT. It was some obscure little coin he’d never even heard of. The group chat was already buzzing. Some people said the team behind the project had powerful connections; others said the price was about to go up a hundredfold. Chen Hao hesitated for a full ten minutes, then transferred just 500 USDT in.
"It’s only 500 bucks, anyway. If I lose it, I’ll consider it tuition."
After buying, he went straight to bed. The next morning, his phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. He checked it: GNS had climbed to 0.52 USDT, up more than 30% overnight. People in the group chat started calling for a target of one dollar, then five. Chen Hao’s heart began racing, and he quickly bought another 2,000 USDT worth.
Over the next three days, GNS took off like a rocket. 0.55, 0.57—it peaked at 0.579. Chen Hao’s account had grown from 500 USDT to nearly 4,000. He started imagining tenfold, even hundredfold gains. In the group chat, he said, "This run is a sure thing. I’m holding all the way."
On the fourth day, the mood suddenly shifted.
First, someone began selling off large amounts, and the price came crashing down from 0.579. Chen Hao reassured himself that this was a normal pullback and that the big players were shaking out weak hands. But the price showed no sign of stopping: 0.50, 0.45, 0.40. The mood in the group chat changed from euphoria to panic. Some people began cursing the project team; others said they were going to bail.
Chen Hao’s finger hovered over the sell button, but he couldn’t bring himself to press it.
"I’ll wait a little longer. It’ll bounce back."
He never got the rebound he was waiting for. GNS kept falling until it was back around 0.39, below the price he’d first bought in at. Everyone who’d been shouting about a hundredfold gain had disappeared. The group chat went from dozens of messages a second to a silence as still as death.
Chen Hao finally cut his losses at 0.41. His 2,500 USDT had dwindled to less than 800.
He turned off his phone and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was already light outside, and the distant sound of traffic drifted in from the city. He remembered how carefree he’d felt when he’d only put in 500 bucks. When he was up more than 3,000, he’d thought he’d discovered the secret to getting rich. It wasn’t until he’d lost most of it that he understood one thing.
In crypto, anyone can buy. Knowing when to sell is what makes you a master.
And he wasn’t even an apprentice—just an ordinary person being pulled back and forth by greed and fear.
After that, Chen Hao never touched shitcoins again. He used what money he had left to buy BTC, investing a little every month. Six months later, BTC had climbed to a price he’d never dared imagine, and his account had finally begun to recover.
Every now and then, he still thought about those crazy three days with GNS, and the faces in the group chat that had disappeared.
New shitcoins are born every day in crypto, and the same stories play out over and over. Some people get rich overnight, some lose everything, and most people just keep paying tuition, caught between greed and fear.
#GNS #土狗币 #FuturesLiquidation
At three in the morning, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
Someone in the group chat posted a message: "GNS is about to take off. Get in now."
He glanced at the price: 0.386 USDT. It was some obscure little coin he’d never even heard of. The group chat was already buzzing. Some people said the team behind the project had powerful connections; others said the price was about to go up a hundredfold. Chen Hao hesitated for a full ten minutes, then transferred just 500 USDT in.
"It’s only 500 bucks, anyway. If I lose it, I’ll consider it tuition."
After buying, he went straight to bed. The next morning, his phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. He checked it: GNS had climbed to 0.52 USDT, up more than 30% overnight. People in the group chat started calling for a target of one dollar, then five. Chen Hao’s heart began racing, and he quickly bought another 2,000 USDT worth.
Over the next three days, GNS took off like a rocket. 0.55, 0.57—it peaked at 0.579. Chen Hao’s account had grown from 500 USDT to nearly 4,000. He started imagining tenfold, even hundredfold gains. In the group chat, he said, "This run is a sure thing. I’m holding all the way."
On the fourth day, the mood suddenly shifted.
First, someone began selling off large amounts, and the price came crashing down from 0.579. Chen Hao reassured himself that this was a normal pullback and that the big players were shaking out weak hands. But the price showed no sign of stopping: 0.50, 0.45, 0.40. The mood in the group chat changed from euphoria to panic. Some people began cursing the project team; others said they were going to bail.
Chen Hao’s finger hovered over the sell button, but he couldn’t bring himself to press it.
"I’ll wait a little longer. It’ll bounce back."
He never got the rebound he was waiting for. GNS kept falling until it was back around 0.39, below the price he’d first bought in at. Everyone who’d been shouting about a hundredfold gain had disappeared. The group chat went from dozens of messages a second to a silence as still as death.
Chen Hao finally cut his losses at 0.41. His 2,500 USDT had dwindled to less than 800.
He turned off his phone and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was already light outside, and the distant sound of traffic drifted in from the city. He remembered how carefree he’d felt when he’d only put in 500 bucks. When he was up more than 3,000, he’d thought he’d discovered the secret to getting rich. It wasn’t until he’d lost most of it that he understood one thing.
In crypto, anyone can buy. Knowing when to sell is what makes you a master.
And he wasn’t even an apprentice—just an ordinary person being pulled back and forth by greed and fear.
After that, Chen Hao never touched shitcoins again. He used what money he had left to buy BTC, investing a little every month. Six months later, BTC had climbed to a price he’d never dared imagine, and his account had finally begun to recover.
Every now and then, he still thought about those crazy three days with GNS, and the faces in the group chat that had disappeared.
New shitcoins are born every day in crypto, and the same stories play out over and over. Some people get rich overnight, some lose everything, and most people just keep paying tuition, caught between greed and fear.
#GNS #土狗币 #FuturesLiquidation