+3,102%: Carnage for the Shorts
Returns? +3,102%.
Of course, it's tragic when people die.
But wars don't grind to a halt just because one soldier bites the dust, do they?
And investing? Not all that different.
No one's gonna go, "Whoa, bankruptcy's a bit harsh... I didn't mean to cost anyone their job, just cash out my modest gains and bounce!" when one hedge fund files for bankruptcy.
Even if there are a few like that, their puny positions don't move the needle for funds that need massive volume.
"On the contrary, everyone's probably cursing the bankrupt funds right now."
They all shorted the same stock, so what makes the busted ones special? Humans are selfish beasts—what can you do? Cursing the ones who screwed you over is just human nature.
And the damage from those bankrupt funds was crystal clear.
"They shattered trust."
As we'd seen before, funds shorting the same stock usually share the same prime broker.
One blows up? [All clients with Shopity short positions—reverify immediately.]
The broker has no choice but to audit every account. And since everyone's playing the same game, the same red flags pop up everywhere.
Then the prime broker demands position cuts. To cut positions, you gotta buy back shares—so the price rockets higher.
It was like being trapped in a maze with no exit. With no sellers in this market, there was only one way out: call in the rescue chopper called a block deal and pay through the nose.
Small funds without that privilege? They explode.
Finally, what had seemed like an insurmountable wall cracked open.
"Holy shit."
At this point, I was swearing out loud.
Volume was already 15x the daily average. Sell orders were still barren, but the price surge showed no signs of stopping.
...For the record, no dick pics, guys.
"Ah, so sweet."
The relentless climb showed no end in sight. Shopity's chart wasn't a graph anymore—it was a goddamn cliff.
I forcibly propped open my drooping eyes with my fingers. Fine, let's see how high this bitch goes. Sleep's for the dead anyway.
"Gaaah... I seriously can't hold out anymore...."
My investment marathon—what I'd figured for two days tops—dragged on for four and a half before finally wrapping.
So, what were the gains? Eh, talking about it just wears out my mouth.
[Ticker: Shopity]
[38,403,911,192 KRW (+37,203,911,192 KRW) +3,102%]
Just from Shopity, I'd pocketed 37.2 billion won. Considering my principal was a measly 1.2 billion, that was terrifying ROI.
Of course, the low principal made this percentage possible. High-yield ops like this don't swallow huge capital.
"Yawwwn. Body's wrecked, but caffeine and dopamine won't let me crash."
Happy? Hell yeah. One shot, insane returns. Life-changing cash.
But even amid the joy, a cold calculator hummed in the back of my skull.
'Can I roll this haul straight into the next play?'
Answer was simple.
"Doubt it."
I dove into bed and hugged the blanket the second the deal closed. Sure, more money's always good in the investment game.
But cross a certain threshold, and shit changes. Take Shopity as exhibit A.
'What if I'd started with 30 billion instead of 1.2?'
Could I have pulled the same 3,100% and minted trillions?
"No fucking way."
Small stakes fly under the radar. But solo billions in buys? That's a whole other beast. You'd pump the price just entering.
Low volume on these names doesn't help. Big players all wrestle the same dilemma.
"The fatter your wallet, the fewer holes to stuff it in."
Pin money? Opportunities everywhere. Say a mid-cap with 200 billion market cap. Dumping 50 million in? No biggie—just another retail schmuck.
But 50 billion? Congrats, you're a 25% stakeholder. More cash, fewer playgrounds. CFD leverage bends the rules a bit, but still.
"And I'm nowhere near that league yet."
So most institutions end up in similar boats: mega-caps that can handle their AUM, or splintering assets razor-thin.
Individuals have way more freedom than institutions—no investment committees, no risk departments nagging on the phone: [This position's too dicey—got backups?] No clients bitching either.
So solos can go nuts sometimes.
Strategies institutions can only dream of.
But that doesn't make the physically impossible possible.
[Returns: +3,102%]
Insane returns.
But chasing the same next time? A chuckle escaped after some thought.
"Possible, sure. Just bet less."
Earn more but bet less? Paradoxical. And lower stakes make that 3,000% look pathetic on AUM-relative terms.
After agonizing, I hit a simple truth.
"Why overthink? Just shitpost and cruise."
No moping after a score. More shitposts, more followers. Bigger cash... bigger wins. I had to meme.
[XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] [XX Burger Set Coupon.JPG] ...
Big haul, big giveaway—1,000 coupons. Eat one, drop a comment.
[38,403,911,192 KRW (+37,203,911,192 KRW) +3,102%]
Was just a point-and-click buy this time—no way anyone missed out
Sell when you want, ROIs vary but sans leverage it'll be similar
37.2B gross but taxes etc. prob leaves under 30B yeah
If you're "I made bank" types, set aside tax dough—blowing it next round = instant bankrupt
And gazing at that post, one young man dropped to his knees.
"Gotta build a damn church for this."
The kid was dead serious in thanking his choice to follow My100BillionDollarsBack since the Han Siul incident.
Not just the Shopity windfall, either.
[Your mom's the only contact we have. She's critical—needs emergency surgery, about 18 million won...]
"I'll pay." [Pardon?]
"Whatever it takes—I'll cover it."
Surgery: 18 million won.
Unthinkable back when part-time gigs netted 800k a month.
But post-gains? Doable.
A bit after his mom's surgery...
"Mom, thank God..." "Sorry for the worry. Old age, just a burden." "Don't say that, Mom."
Thus, a fervent zealot of the so-called '100 Billion Dollar Church' was born.