The Portrait of Encrypted Gamblers: Those 'Lucky Ones' Trapped by Candlesticks

Original author: ChandlerZ, Foresight News

Original title: Crypto Betting Dogs Portrait: The Bait of Luck, The Prisoner of K-Line

"You think you are trading, but in fact, you are just pulling the lever of a slot machine."

The cryptocurrency market, especially contract trading, operates 24 hours a day without breaks, with leverage up to hundreds of times, liquidation without warning, and without the need to wear suits, place bets, or sign contracts. Even emotions can be expressed in the form of emojis, making it one of the most concealed yet efficient addiction machines in the crypto world.

Cultural anthropologist Natasha D. Schull, through a long-term field study of Las Vegas slot machine players, wrote a book titled "Addiction by Design," which presents a panoramic view of the gambling industry, individual gamblers, and the fundamental concepts of modern society, while also revealing a harsh reality.

The most dangerous thing is not losing money, but the "machine maze" itself - that mental state where you know you are sinking, yet still cannot stop.

On this seemingly technology-driven and free-playing land, we have seen more and more gamblers falling into the abyss. Their identities, experiences, and intelligence vary, but their fates are astonishingly similar: before the giant slot machine of contract trading, they are repeatedly fed and repeatedly swallowed by it.

Their story is the story of how we are designed to be addicted.

The Overturning of the Deputy Factory Director - From a Well-off Family to Being Deep in Debt

Recently, the well-known Bilibili content creator "Feng Ge Wangming Tianya" (Feng Ge) released a self-narrated video under the username "Zhe Li Chongsheng", quickly sparking heated discussions.

According to the self-description of "Zheli Chongsheng", he was the deputy director of a large state-owned coal washing plant under a large state-owned enterprise in Handan, Hebei. He was a deputy section-level cadre with a net monthly salary of nine thousand, and his family had both a house and a car, living a comfortable and stable life. After getting married in 2018, he and his wife had a daughter, and the family atmosphere was harmonious.

He said that his days at that time were "better than some, but not as good as others," and he was considered a winner in life by others.

But now, everything has changed. His life has been shattered by contract trading.

Before Rebirth Brother got involved in the cryptocurrency world, he briefly participated in postal currency trading, and he did not incur losses; instead, he made a small profit of around twenty thousand. This experience did not make him aware of the risks of speculation, but rather planted a sense of luck in him. He became obsessed with the idea that making money could be done without working.

He officially entered the circle in 2020. In the beginning, he started with spot trading, dabbling with a few hundred yuan to test the waters. But soon, the initial few "successes" completely shattered his perception of money, with returns of 40%, 50% in a short time, and even "earning forty to fifty thousand in a day." The huge positive feedback destroyed his confidence in traditional work.

After losing all the principal for the first time, the rebirth brother did not retreat but instead advanced, embarking on a more aggressive path: borrowing money to open contracts. He continuously tried 10x, 50x, and even 100x leverage; borrowing money, taking online loans, and using credit cards, each time it was to "gamble again," not even for the sake of getting rich, but rather to "break even."

At first, the reborn brother tried to convince himself to set stop losses, but every time it was actually triggered, he would always cancel it.

"Afraid of missing the rebound."

He described his situation in the video as "like a blunt knife cutting flesh"; today he lost 20,000 after charging 20,000, and tomorrow he will charge another 20,000. At first, it was mainstream coins, then it became altcoins and shitcoins, investing became more niche and the gambling more desperate.

Eventually, he couldn't even borrow from online loans. He had to reach out to friends and family, fabricating various reasons to borrow money. Time and again, he would "dive in and gamble one more time," resulting in repeated liquidations. Four instances of explosions, four instances of patching up the holes:

• The first time he lost 220,000, his parents and friends helped him pay it off;
• Lost 300,000 for the second time and relied on relatives to help out;
• The third loss of 650,000, he sold the house his sister had prepared for her wedding to get 500,000, barely filling the hole;
• The fourth complete collapse, total debt exceeds a million, unable to repay.

In the end, he resigned from his job at the state-owned enterprise, his wife submitted the divorce agreement, and his father sent a decisive text message saying "This family doesn't have you". His five-year-old daughter only knows that "Daddy is working away."

To avoid debt collection, he rented a single room on the outskirts of the city for 600 yuan a month, driving for ride-hailing services for 13 to 14 hours a day, with a daily turnover of 300 yuan. After deducting car rental and meal expenses, he was left with less than a hundred yuan. The smart watch kept vibrating with collection calls and messages, including threats to spam his contact list.

In front of the camera, the reborn brother admitted that he had long been "numb to digital matters", and the gains and losses in online lending and contracts seemed like a void button. The biggest regret is not losing money, but rather "having personally destroyed a good family."

The real problem lies in the fact that it is almost impossible to repay a million-dollar debt through driving and frugality, and once the market picks up again, the "desire to recoup losses" may reignite at any time.

The tragedy of Rebirth Brother is a perfect sample used to illustrate the "machine maze" revealed in the book "The Bait of Luck", a space designed by technology to immerse people, lose control, and ultimately escape backward in addiction. Traditional gambling has intervals, while the crypto market operates 7 × 24 hours without rest, coupled with high leverage instant feedback, compressing the cycle of risk and return to the extreme. This perfectly replicates the core addiction mechanism of slot machines: "quick operation, immediate feedback".

The concept of flow proposed by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi is often used to describe positive immersive experiences. However, Schur sharply points out that machine gambling offers a form of "backward escape" pseudo-flow, which brings no self-actualization and only signifies losing oneself in repetitive behaviors.

The Reborn Brother is undoubtedly a typical example of "retreating backward." He is not creating value but trying to combat the helplessness of reality with a sense of virtual control in a consumptive system. From initially seeking "wealth" to later desperately trying to "break even," his goals have long been distorted. Selling his sister's wedding house and betraying everyone's trust, these actions indicate that he has sacrificed everything in reality to that virtual "maze."

Liáng xī — Emotion Overflow Machine for Trafficization

If the deputy factory director of a state-owned enterprise is a victim of the contract casino, then Liang Xi is a reveler in the casino. Unlike the slow decline of the deputy factory director, Liang Xi's "Gambling Dog Life" resembles a grand theater revolving around digital gains and losses and social performances. He is not quietly sinking, but rather repeatedly placing himself at the center of public attention through traffic and emotion.

Liangxi first rose to fame during the 519 crash in 2021. On that day, Bitcoin experienced a 33% intraday drop, causing the entire market to collapse as if it were the end of the world. At just 19 years old, Liangxi made nearly 40 million RMB with a 1000 yuan short position, earning the title of "genius trader in the crypto world."

This is a quintessential "Hero's Birth" climax: low cost, high return, independent judgment, and resistance to the market.

But all of this is just the most dangerous beginning, the bait of luck has appeared.

A successful large bet is enough to create the illusion of continuous betting, the obsession that I can do it again will make people constantly try to replicate that one stroke of luck. Liang Xi has never truly walked out of that day's "big win"; he has spent four years trying to recreate it while becoming completely lost.

According to the words in the book, machine gambling simplifies risk into a repetitive on/off, yes/no, lose/win, start/end, have/not have... Every adventure allows for immediate results through simple operations. Fast operation and immediate feedback are needs that can only be met by high-speed machines.

In subsequent trades, Liang Xi continuously operated with high leverage, often missing the mark with his directional bets, and his profits and losses fluctuated like the tides, eventually accumulating debts exceeding 200 million yuan. He once disclosed in public that he "had no source of income," relying on loans to maintain trading, while also claiming to have suffered from emotional betrayal, a rift with his parents, and a mental breakdown, attempting self-harm several times.

At the same time, he maintains a high level of activity on social media. He shares real trading screenshots to showcase his gains and losses; every time he makes a comeback, he "throws red envelopes" on social platforms to create attention-grabbing moments; he continuously engages in public spats and challenges with other crypto KOLs to generate buzz; he reveals personal life disputes, emotional breakdowns, mental health issues, etc., to construct a "real yet extreme" persona.

His social media is no longer an information release platform, but a "second exchange" for emotional gambling. Liquidations, rebounds, crying, throwing money, revenge, every wave of emotion fluctuates in sync with the market trends, and each plunge or rebound is part of the narrative. Liangxi is not just a participant; he is more like a playwright directing his own drama, relying on continuous intense emotional fluctuations to solidify his position on the cryptocurrency attention leaderboard.

This aligns with the description of "machine labyrinth" in "The Lure of Luck." Addicted players closely tie their emotions to betting; once they sink into the labyrinth, time, space, and self-awareness all fade away, leaving only one thing: to continue placing bets.

The reason Liangxi can maintain traffic for a long time is that he has made himself an incessant emotional betting machine. Market fluctuations are his plot structure, and the numbers of gains and losses are his emotional drives.

In the machine maze, individuals gradually become numb to winning and losing, with the goal shifting from "winning and leaving" to "sustaining existence." Liang Xi no longer chases a one-time windfall exit but instead leverages the extreme volatility of crypto contracts to continuously provide topics and emotional anchors for her Liang family army.

Ironically, amidst repeated failures and crashes, he still has followers, and many are even willing to transfer money to the accounts he has published, voluntarily becoming his creditors. This is a perfect reflection of the social addiction structure in the crypto scene, where individuals are not only addicted to the system but also bound by group identity, creating a tolerance space for "failure is also worthy of appreciation."

The reason Liang Xi is special is not because he is crazy, but because he accurately interprets the "algorithmic value of a madman."

James Wynn —— The "Market's Top Gambler" Who Went Viral on the Blockchain

If we set aside conspiracy theories and unproven speculation, James Wynn is more like the ultimate example of a tech-savvy gambler in the crypto space. His rise to fame is attributed to a staggering number; in just 70 days, he turned his contract account profit from 0 to 87 million dollars.

Everything happens on Hyperliquid, with full-chain transparency. Every contract opening and closing, his profit records and position fluctuations are being observed in real-time by the community. He also frequently tweets, stating, "I have never traded contracts before," and that he merely transitioned "improvisationally" from a Meme coin trader, accidentally achieving success.

This epic rollercoaster ride quickly attracted thousands of followers. Within just a few weeks, James's social media followers surpassed 380,000. His account status once became a barometer for the market and even influenced market sentiment.

At the end of May 2025, after experiencing consecutive profits, James Wynn's position saw a sharp retracement.

In 70 days, a profit of 87 million dollars was almost completely exhausted in just 5 days.

He also candidly stated on social media: "I just want to recover my lost earnings, while not wanting to look like an idiot who made 100 million and lost it all. I became greedy, and I didn't take the numbers on the screen seriously."

From this point on, James's tweeting style became aggressive and dramatic. He changed his social media avatar to "McDonald's Wojak," self-deprecatingly claiming he had "hit rock bottom" and mocking himself for having to go work.

But he did not stop operating. In early June, while announcing the suspension of trading, he also posted a position chart for a new long position just hours later, claiming it was to "fight against corrupt market makers." He specifically named Wintermute, accusing it of "sniping individual positions."

The most controversial operation occurred on the brink of liquidation. James Wynn published an on-chain address to raise funds in USDC, claiming that these funds would be used to maintain positions and reduce liquidation risk. He promised, "If the transaction is successful, the funds will be returned at a 1:1 ratio." Ultimately, he raised approximately 39,000 USDC through this address and indeed used it to enhance margin and maintain position safety.

This move has been ridiculed by many as "high-end begging". The result of this operation is that his Bitcoin position indeed turned from being on the verge of liquidation to being profitable, with a temporary recovery of several hundred thousand dollars. However, good luck did not last long. With the market's violent fluctuations, James Wynn's account ultimately suffered significant losses again. On-chain data shows that his principal loss is close to 22 million dollars.

The controversy surrounding James Wynn has not ended with his losses. Some community users refer to him as a scripted traffic master, believing that while he significantly fluctuates public accounts, he may be holding hedge addresses for reverse trading in the shadows. Others speculate that he has a marketing interest relationship with Hyperliquid officials.

In mid-June, on-chain detective @dethective published a long article analyzing James's on-chain invitation rebate data, transaction timestamps, and token overlap, speculating that he may be engaging in hedging trades through a hidden address. The blogger believes that James's public accounts are often on the "loss" side, while another high-frequency trading address makes trades in the opposite direction and has never been liquidated, showing stable profits. Currently, this hidden address has made profits exceeding $4 million.

However, as of now, this statement has not been responded to by the individual nor verified by an on-chain signature, and remains a speculation from the community, with no conclusion reached.

But in any case, a trading clue showing a clear loss of over 100 million dollars is enough to illustrate that the on-chain ups and downs of James Wynn are actually a digital representation of "The Bait of Luck" in the crypto world.

Summary

In the high-leverage contract market, so-called investments often quickly degrade into addictive behavior. The principal is no longer capital for appreciation, but rather chips to keep the game running. The random fluctuations of the market, the high-speed UI/UX of exchanges, and the emotional amplification of social media together construct a closed system.

There are no dealers, no chips, only a continuous refreshing, encouragement of re-investment, and an instant explosion of positions that bring a series of operational thrills. These platforms capture traders' attention with an almost perfect human-machine feedback loop logic. Operational feedback is instantaneous, profit and loss numbers are stimulating, and the next order is always waiting for that moment to be placed.

The core of gambling addiction does not lie in the winning or losing of money, but rather in a state of immersion that has been precisely designed. It is a gray area between numbness and flow, where a person temporarily forgets their identity, money, and the existence of time, synchronizing only with the rhythm of the machine in front of them, treating each operation as an end in itself, rather than a means to some outcome.

It precisely exploits human desires for pleasure and certainty, trapping traders in a cycle of escalating losses and increasing bets. This explains why many traders irrationally engage in revenge trading after incurring losses; their goal is no longer to rationally make money, but to immediately eliminate the pain of losses and return to the illusion of "I am still in control of everything."

Even more deceptive is that "failure" is often packaged as the illusion of "almost winning." This is similar to the illusion experienced by cryptocurrency traders when unrealized profits are reversed. If I just hold on for ten more seconds, add collateral one more time, or bet on a direction once more, maybe I can "break even." Schüll refers to this phenomenon as the "near-miss effect," one of the most commonly used psychological weapons in casinos. It does not crush your confidence but rather makes you mistakenly believe that success is within reach.

"What players pursue is not winning money, but maintaining the state of betting itself." When we turn our gaze to the cryptocurrency market, this statement seems to be a footnote written exclusively for those high-frequency traders and crypto gamblers who monitor the market at four in the morning.