Futures Trading: The Hidden Addiction Mechanism of the Encryption World

Futures Trading in the encryption market is arguably one of the most covert yet efficient addiction machines of the digital age. Operating around the clock, with ultra-high leverage and instant liquidations, participation requires no cumbersome procedures, and even emotions can be conveyed in the form of emoticons.

Cultural anthropologist Natasha Dow Schüll, in her book "Addiction by Design," reveals a harsh reality through her in-depth study of Las Vegas slot machine players: the most dangerous aspect is not the loss of money, but the "machine zone" itself—a mental state of knowing you are sinking yet being unable to stop.

In this seemingly technology-driven and fiercely competitive field, more and more participants are falling into the abyss. They come from diverse backgrounds, but their fates are strikingly similar: continuously投入 in front of the massive slot machine of Futures Trading, only to be repeatedly devoured.

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

From a Well-off Family to the Tragedy of Debt

Recently, a user with the online name "Zhe Li Chong Sheng" attracted widespread attention with their account on a video platform.

According to his description, he was the deputy director of a large state-owned washing plant under a state-owned enterprise in Handan, Hebei, a deputy section-level cadre, with a net monthly salary of nine thousand, and his family was well-off. After marrying in 2018, he had a daughter, and their family life was harmonious.

He described his life at that time as "better than some, but not as good as others," portraying himself as a winner in the eyes of others.

However, Futures Trading completely changed his life.

Before getting involved in cryptocurrencies, he briefly participated in postal currency trading and made a small profit. This experience not only did not make him wary of speculative risks, but instead planted a sense of luck, leading to an obsession with the idea of "making money without having to work."

In 2020, he officially entered the encryption market. Initially, it was just a small attempt at spot trading, but soon, the early "successes" completely overturned his view of money. Experiences of 40% and 50% returns in a short period, and even "earning forty to fifty thousand in a day," made him lose confidence in traditional work.

After losing all his principal for the first time, he did not retreat but instead took a more aggressive path: borrowing money to trade Futures. He continuously tried leverage from 10x to 50x, and even 100x; borrowing money, taking online loans, and using credit cards, each time just to "give it another shot". Eventually, it wasn't even about getting rich anymore, but just about "breaking even".

At first, he also tried to set stop losses, but every time it was actually triggered, he would cancel it on the grounds of "fear of missing the rebound."

He described his situation as "a dull knife cutting flesh"; he recharged 20,000 today and lost it all, and then recharged another 20,000 tomorrow. From mainstream coins to altcoins to worthless coins, the more he invests, the more niche it becomes, and the more he gambles, the more desperate he feels.

In the end, he couldn't even borrow from online lending. He had to turn to friends and family, fabricating various excuses to borrow money. Each time he said "let's gamble one more time," he ended up facing another liquidation. Four major losses, four times filling the deficit:

• First loss of 220,000, repaid with help from parents and friends;
• Lost 300,000 for the second time, once again relying on relatives to bail me out;
• The third loss of 650,000, sold the house that my sister prepared for her wedding to cash out 500,000, barely filling the hole;
• The fourth complete collapse, total debt exceeds one million, unable to repay.

In the end, he resigned from his position at the state-owned enterprise, his wife filed for divorce, and his father sent a heartless text saying "This family doesn’t have you," while his five-year-old daughter only knew that "Daddy went to work out of town."

To avoid collection, he rented a single room in the suburbs for 600 yuan a month, driving a ride-hailing car for 13-14 hours a day, with a daily revenue of 300 yuan. After deducting car rent 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 mass send messages to his contacts.

He admits that he has "long been numb to digital matters", and the profits and losses in online loans and Futures Trading feel like a void button. The biggest regret is not losing money, but rather "having personally destroyed a beautiful family."

The real dilemma is that it is almost impossible to repay the million-dollar debt with compound interest through driving and frugality, and once the market conditions improve, the "urge to recover losses" may reignite at any time.

This tragedy perfectly illustrates the "machine maze"—a meticulously designed addictive space intended to immerse, control, and ultimately help people escape reality. Traditional gambling has intervals, while the encryption market operates around the clock, with high leverage providing immediate feedback, compressing the cycle of risk and reward to the extreme.

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 kind of "backward escape" pseudo-flow, which does not bring any self-realization and only leads individuals to lose themselves in repetitive behaviors.

This former deputy factory director is undoubtedly a typical example of "retreating backward". He is not creating value, but rather trying to combat the sense of powerlessness in reality with a virtual sense of control within a consumptive system. From initially seeking to "get rich" to later recklessly 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".

Emotional Liquidation Machine

Unlike the slow collapse of the aforementioned case, the "gambler's life" of another well-known trader resembles a grand theater revolving around digital gains and losses, as well as social performance. He does not quietly sink; instead, he repeatedly places himself at the center of public attention through traffic and emotion.

This trader first shot to fame during a market crash in 2021. On that day, Bitcoin recorded a daily drop of 33%, and the entire market collapsed like the end of the world. At just 19 years old, he gained nearly 40 million RMB with a 1000 yuan rolling short position, earning him the title of "genius trader."

This is a typical "hero's birth" climax: low cost, high return, independent judgment, and market resistance.

But all of this is exactly 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 of "I can do it again" will lead people to constantly try to replicate that luck. This trader has never truly stepped out of that day’s "big win"; he has spent four years trying to reproduce it while becoming completely lost.

In subsequent trades, he continuously engaged in high-leverage operations, often missing the mark, with profits and losses fluctuating like the tides, ultimately accumulating debts exceeding 200 million yuan. He once disclosed in public that he "had no source of income," relying on borrowing to sustain his trading, while claiming to have suffered emotional betrayal, family breakdown, and mental collapse, and he attempted self-harm several times.

However, at the same time, he maintains a high level of activity on social media. He posts real trading screenshots to showcase the ups and downs of profits and losses; every time he turns a profit, he "throws red envelopes" on social platforms to create points of interest; he continuously interacts and debates with other industry opinion leaders to maintain momentum; he publicly shares personal life disputes, emotional issues, psychological conditions, etc., constructing an image that is "real but extreme."

His social media is no longer just a simple information release platform, but a "second exchange" for emotional gambling. Liquidation, turnaround, lamentation, throwing money, revenge, each wave of emotion fluctuates in sync with the market trends, and every crash or rebound is part of the plot. He is not just a participant, but more like a self-directed playwright, using continuous and intense emotional fluctuations to solidify his attention within the circle.

This is highly consistent with the description of "machine labyrinth" in "The Lure of Luck." Addicted players tightly bind their emotions to betting; once they sink into the labyrinth, time, space, and self-awareness will disappear, leaving only one thing: to keep betting.

The reason he can maintain traffic for a long time is that he has made himself an unceasing emotional betting machine. Market fluctuations are his plot structure, and the profit and loss figures drive his emotions.

In the machine maze, individuals gradually become numb to winning and losing, and the goal shifts from "winning and leaving" to "lasting existence." He no longer pursues a one-time windfall exit, but instead leverages the extreme volatility of encryption Futures Trading to continuously provide topics and emotional anchors for his followers.

Ironically, despite repeated failures and liquidations, he still has loyal fans, and many are even willing to transfer money to the accounts he publishes, voluntarily becoming his creditors. The social addiction structure is perfectly mirrored in the encryption scene, where individuals not only become addicted to the system but are also bound by group recognition, creating a tolerance space where "failure is also worthy of appreciation."

What makes this trader special is not his madness, but his precise interpretation of "the value of crazy algorithms."

The "Market's Top Gambler" Who Went Viral On-Chain

If we set aside unverified speculation, a certain trader resembles the ultimate example of a technical gambler. His rise to fame is due to a staggering figure; in just 70 days, he turned his Futures Trading account profit from 0 to 87 million dollars.

All of this happened on a trading platform, with complete transparency on the blockchain. Every opening and closing of a Futures Trading contract, his profit records and position fluctuations were being watched in real time by the community. He also frequently posted on social media, stating, "I had never traded Futures Trading before," and that he simply "improvised his way" from being a small coin trader to achieving success by chance.

This epic roller coaster ride quickly attracted thousands of followers. In just a few weeks, his social media followers surpassed 380,000. His account status once became a barometer for the market, even influencing the overall sentiment.

At the end of May 2023, after experiencing continuous profits, the trader's position saw a sharp drawdown.

The $87 million profit accumulated over 70 days was almost completely exhausted in just 5 days.

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

From this point on, his writing style became radical and dramatic. He changed his social media avatar to a self-mocking image, satirizing that he had "hit rock bottom" and joking about going to work.

But he did not stop operating. At the beginning of June, while announcing a halt to trading, he also showcased a new long position chart just hours later, claiming it was to "counter certain market participants." He specifically named a market maker, accusing them of "sniping individual positions."

The most controversial operation occurred on the brink of liquidation. He released an on-chain address to publicly raise funds for a certain stablecoin, claiming that these funds would be used to maintain positions and reduce liquidation risks. He promised, "If the transaction is successful, it will be refunded at a 1:1 ratio." In the end, he raised about 39,000 stablecoins through that address and indeed used them to enhance margin and maintain position security.

This action has been ridiculed by many as "high-end begging." The result of this operation is that his Bitcoin position indeed turned from the brink of liquidation to profit, with a temporary profit of several hundred thousand dollars. However, the good fortune did not last long. With the market's dramatic fluctuations, his account ultimately faced significant losses again. On-chain data shows that his principal loss is close to $22 million.

The controversy surrounding him did not end with the losses. Some community users believe he is a master of scripted traffic, speculating that he may be engaging in reverse trading with hedging addresses in the shadows while significantly fluctuating his public accounts. Others speculate that he has a marketing interest relationship with the trading platform's officials.

In mid-June, an on-chain analyst published a lengthy article, speculating that this trader might be engaging in hedging trades through hidden addresses by analyzing the invitation commission data, transaction timestamps, and token overlap. The analyst believes that public accounts are often on the "losing" side, while another high-frequency trading address makes trades in the opposite direction and has never been liquidated, maintaining stable profits. Currently, this hidden