Contract Market: The Hidden Addiction Machine of Modern Society

The crypto market, especially contract trading, operates around the clock with leverage up to hundreds of times, and liquidation can occur without warning. This trading method has become one of the most covert yet efficient addiction mechanisms in the crypto world.

Cultural anthropologist Natasha Dole Shur reveals a harsh reality through her long-term study of slot machine players: the most dangerous aspect is not losing money, but the "machine trance" itself—a mental state in which one knows they are sinking but still cannot stop.

On this seemingly technology-driven and free-playing land, we have witnessed more and more "gamblers" falling into the abyss. Their backgrounds vary, but their fates are strikingly similar: before the massive "slot machine" of contract trading, they are repeatedly fed and devoured by it.

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

From a Well-off Family to Being Deep in Debt

Recently, a self-narrated video by a user named "Zhe Li Chong Sheng" has sparked heated discussions.

According to his account, he was once the deputy director of a large state-owned enterprise's coal-washing plant, a deputy section-level cadre, with a net monthly salary of nine thousand. He had a complete set of housing and vehicles at home, leading a comfortable and stable life. After getting married in 2018, he and his wife had a daughter, and the family atmosphere was harmonious.

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

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

Before Rebirth Brother got involved in cryptocurrency, he had briefly participated in the trading of postal currency cards, without incurring losses and even making a small profit of around ten to twenty thousand. This experience did not alert him to the risks of speculation; instead, it planted a sense of luck in him. He became obsessed with the idea of making money without having to go to work.

In 2020, he officially entered the circle. Initially, it was just 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 single day." The huge positive feedback destroyed his confidence in traditional work.

After losing all the principal for the first time, the reborn brother did not retreat but instead advanced, embarking on a more aggressive path: borrowing money to trade contracts. He tried leverage of 10 times, 50 times, and even 100 times in succession; borrowing money, taking out online loans, and maxing out credit cards, every time it was all for "one more shot," not even for the purpose of getting rich, but rather to "break even."

At first, he tried to set stop-loss orders, but every time they were actually triggered, he would cancel them. "Afraid of missing the rebound."

He described his situation as "cutting meat with a blunt knife". Today he lost 20,000 after investing, and tomorrow he will invest another 20,000; at first, it was mainstream coins, then it became niche coins, and the investments became smaller and smaller, and the gambling became more and more desperate.

Eventually, he couldn't even borrow from online lending anymore. He had no choice but to reach out to friends and family, concocting various reasons to borrow money everywhere. Time and again, he thought "I'll just go all in and gamble once more," which resulted in repeated liquidations. Four times of blowing up, four times of patching up the holes:

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

In the end, he resigned from his state-owned enterprise position, his wife submitted the divorce agreement, his father sent a resolute text saying "This family has no place for you", and his five-year-old daughter only knows that "Daddy is working out of town".

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

In front of the camera, Rebirth Brother admits that he has "long been numb to numbers," as if the gains and losses in online loans and contracts are merely an empty button. The biggest regret is not losing money, but rather "having personally destroyed a good family."

The real problem lies in the fact that relying on driving and cutting expenses, it is nearly impossible to repay the million-dollar debt that accumulates interest upon interest. Once the market rebounds, the "urge to recoup losses" may reignite at any moment.

The tragedy of the Reborn Brother is a typical case that demonstrates the functioning of the "machine maze"—a meticulously designed addiction space intended to immerse, control, and ultimately lead one to escape backwards. Traditional gambling has intervals, while the cryptocurrency market operates around the clock, coupled with high leverage and instant feedback, compressing the cycle of risk and reward to the extreme. This perfectly replicates the core addiction mechanism of slot machines: "fast operation, immediate feedback."

The concept of flow proposed by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi is often used to describe positive immersive experiences. However, Schull points out that machine gambling provides a kind of "backward escape" pseudo-flow, which does not bring any self-actualization but rather signifies a loss of self in repetitive behavior.

Reborn Brother is undoubtedly a typical example of "retreating backward." He is not creating value, but rather trying to combat the feeling of powerlessness in reality with a sense of virtual control within a consumptive system. From initially aiming for "wealth" to later desperately trying to "recover his losses," 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 decline of the deputy factory director of a state-owned enterprise, the "gambling life" of a certain well-known trader resembles a grand theater centered around digital gains and losses, as well as social performance. He does not sink quietly; instead, he repeatedly places himself at the center of public attention through traffic and emotions.

This trader first rose to fame during the May 19 crash in 2021. On that day, Bitcoin experienced a daily drop of 33%, and the entire market collapsed like the end of the world. At just 19 years old, he made nearly 40 million yuan with a 1000 yuan short position, and from then on, he was dubbed the "genius trader in the crypto circle."

This is a full-blown "heroic birth" climax: low cost, high return, independent judgment, against the market.

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

A successful large bet is enough to create the illusion of continuous betting, that obsession of being able to do it again will lead people to constantly try to replicate that one stroke of luck. He has never truly walked away from that day of "striking it big," spending four years trying to recreate it while completely losing himself.

In subsequent trades, he continuously operated with high leverage, often missing the mark in direction, with gains and losses fluctuating like the tides, ultimately accumulating debts exceeding 200 million yuan. At one point, he publicly disclosed that he "had no source of income," relying on loans to maintain trading, while also claiming to have suffered from emotional betrayal, a rupture with his parents, and mental breakdowns, attempting self-harm several times.

At the same time, he maintains a high level of activity on social media. He shares screenshots of actual trading to show fluctuations in profits and losses; every time he turns a profit, he "throws red envelopes" on social platforms to create attention-grabbing moments; he constantly engages in public feuds and challenges with other KOLs to generate buzz; he reveals personal life disputes, emotional breakdowns, and mental health issues to construct a "real yet extreme" persona.

His social media is no longer an information publishing platform, but rather a "second exchange" for emotional gambling. Liquidations, reversals, wailing, throwing money, revenge; each wave of emotion fluctuates in sync with market trends, and every crash or rebound is part of the narrative. He is not just a participant; he is more like a playwright self-directing his own drama, using continuous intense emotional fluctuations to solidify his position on the attention leaderboard within the community.

This aligns with the description of "machine maze" in "The Bait of Luck." Addicted players closely link their emotions with betting, and once they sink into the maze, time, space, and self-awareness disappear, leaving only one thing: to continue placing bets.

The reason he can maintain traffic over a long period 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, with the goal shifting from "winning and leaving" to "surviving continuously." He no longer seeks to exit with a one-time windfall, but instead leverages the extreme volatility of cryptocurrency contracts to continuously provide topics and emotional anchor points for his fanbase.

Ironically, amidst repeated failures and disasters, he still has followers, and many are even willing to transfer money to the accounts he publicizes, 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 where "failure is also worthy of appreciation."

What makes this trader special is not that he is crazy, but that he precisely interprets the "value of a madman's algorithm."

The "Market's Number One Gambler" That Went Viral On-Chain

If we set aside conspiracy theories and unverified speculations, a certain well-known trader resembles the ultimate example of a technical gambler in the cryptocurrency market. His rise to fame is due to a staggering number; in just 70 days, he turned a contract account profit from 0 to 87 million dollars.

Everything happens on a trading platform, with full chain transparency. Every contract opening and closing, his profit records and position fluctuations are monitored in real time by the community. He himself frequently tweets, stating "I never played contracts before," and that he just "spontaneously transitioned" from being a Meme coin trader and accidentally achieved success.

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

At the end of May 2025, after experiencing continuous profits, his position saw a sharp drawdown.

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

He also 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, and I didn't take the numbers on the screen seriously."

From this point on, his tweeting style became aggressive and dramatic. He changed his social media avatar to "McDonald's Wojak", self-mockingly stating that he had "hit rock bottom" and sarcastically claiming he was going to get a job.

But he did not stop operating. At the beginning of June, while announcing a suspension of trading, he also posted a new position chart for long positions a few hours later, claiming it was to "fight against corrupt market makers." He even named a specific market maker, accusing them of "sniping individual positions."

The most controversial operation occurred at the edge of liquidation. He published an on-chain address and publicly raised USDC, claiming that the funds would be used to maintain positions and reduce liquidation risks. He promised "if the transaction is successful, it will be returned at a 1:1 ratio." In the end, he raised about 39,000 USDC through that address and indeed used it to increase margin and maintain position safety.

This action has been mocked by many as "high-end begging". As a result of this operation, his Bitcoin position did indeed turn from near liquidation to profitability, with a temporary recovery of several hundred thousand dollars. However, the good fortune did not last long. With the market experiencing severe fluctuations, his account ultimately faced significant losses again. On-chain data shows that his principal loss has approached 22 million dollars.

The controversy surrounding him did not end with the losses. Some community users refer to him as a script-based traffic expert, believing that while his public account experiences significant fluctuations, he may be secretly holding hedge addresses for reverse trading. Others speculate that he has a marketing interest relationship with a certain trading platform.

In mid-June, a blockchain analyst published a lengthy article analyzing the on-chain referral rebate data, transaction timestamps, and token overlap of this trader, speculating that he might be engaging in hedge trading through a hidden address. The analyst believes that public accounts are often "