10/10/2025,
the market says nothing.
It just quietly
takes away all my accounts.

There are days when silence is even more brutal than shattering sounds, and for me, that was October 10, 2025, when all my accounts suddenly disappeared without a warning. Not because the market lacked rules, but because I was too confident that I had mastered all those rules. Standing in front of the screen, I watched the red candles drain the results of many years as if witnessing my own arrogance being stripped away. Every price jump was a cut into the belief that I was different, that I was skilled enough to never fall into the trap of account liquidation. That pain was not in the lost numbers, but in the late awakening that the market never takes money from fools; it only takes money from those who think they are no longer naive, those who let their ego overshadow discipline, and who let past victories become poison for the present. The next morning, waking up amidst the suffocating silence of the room, my hand instinctively reached for the phone to check the prices, but I froze midway when I realized there was nothing left to check—an empty void where the numbers once danced endlessly. In that moment, I suddenly realized that the outside world continued indifferently; people still hurried, and life went on as if my collapse was just a speck of dust in the void. It was this indifference of reality that pulled me out of the trance of illusions on the charts. I understood that a person’s value should never be weighed against their account balance, and that this fall, though brutal, was a necessary test for me to relearn how to face myself without the guarantee of winning trades. Some lessons cannot be bought with textbooks but must be paid for with the shattering of trust, from which I learned that true opportunity does not lie in trying to recover what was lost on the screen but in rebuilding a new mindset—where humility is higher than arrogance, and peace is no longer dictated by the market’s green or red. I moved through that pain with a lifelong scar, not to regret what had passed, but to remember how small I was in front of reality and how I began to learn resilience when facing the incomplete zero.