$RAVE #RSharing a story, please widely share this post among Pi friends and family. This story will definitely provide great inspiration for Pi pioneers—what everyone should do for their own goals! The story is a bit long, so please be patient and read it all!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
#RAVE He could only drink five-cent beer, yet he invested all his savings into a junk stock. In just six months, his assets skyrocketed to 47 million because this stock would become the century battle between retail investors, small traders, and the arrogant Wall Street funds. This is the famous short squeeze event during the pandemic. His name is Gil, a financial analyst at Wantong Insurance, and also a YouTube streamer. One day, he told his followers he bought stocks. A friend advised him to sell the junk stock quickly, as he still had a wife and kids to support. Gil replied that he not only bought stocks but also used all his equipment to invest in GameStop. The friend thought Gil was joking, but after Gil showed his phone as proof, they realized Gil had gone completely crazy. At that time, GameStop was the world's largest retailer of video games and entertainment software, but it had been hit hard by online shopping and digital gaming, dropping 90% over the past three years. Wall Street saw an opportunity to make a quick fortune, including famous American firms like Castle Securities and the 72 Point Hedge Fund, with the largest being Melvin Capital. Melvin’s CEO was only 36 but already the most profitable hedge fund on Wall Street. For six consecutive years, he profited from shorting GameStop, driving the stock from $28 to $2. The store owners changed six times in two years. They were ready to continue shorting GameStop, already celebrating their victory early with champagne. So Gil’s act of buying GameStop stock was almost like throwing money into the water. But unexpectedly, upon waking up, the stock price surged 130% instantly. This unprecedented spike scared Melvin’s CEO so badly he peed himself. He had no idea the reason for the surge was a small internet celebrity, Gil, who said he loved the stock very much. Gil’s wife was about to be laid off due to the pandemic, adding pressure on him. Meanwhile, his childhood friend’s words made him doubt his own choice, but his wife fully supported his decision to buy GameStop. He went live on stream, letting his wife see what the investors were saying if he was unsure. Gil returned to his study, opened his computer, and wore his signature red bandana. He had streamed a few times before, sharing his investment methods. Although the viewers were few and often mocked him, Gil chose to respond humorously rather than avoid. Then he seriously shared his views on investing in GameStop. Because Wall Street’s big players were shorting GameStop, the stock hit a low of $3.85. Gil believed they had made a huge mistake—underestimating GameStop’s value. The stock was shorted 140%, meaning the more retail investors bought, the more the shorts lost. Despite most people buying digital games online, a quarter of loyal customers still bought physical discs at GameStop. This was Wall Street’s deliberate sabotage. As long as retail investors united to push the stock price up and refused to sell, they could crush the big capitalists’ short positions and make a huge profit. Wall Street always looked down on retail investors as a mob, a bunch of fools only interested in short-term gains, and believed they would never unite firmly. They called ordinary people’s money the easiest to steal—silly money. When Melvin saw retail investors entering, he eagerly added 600k more shares to short, waiting for the price to fall. These retail investors were the “chives” he wanted to harvest. But he never expected that his continued shorting would be seen as declaring war on GameStop. The retail investors decided to rise up, not for profit, but to overthrow Wall Street’s giants. Online, people cheered each other on, buying the stock madly, calling everyone to join the fight. Because they had nothing left, if everyone invested a few hundred or thousand dollars to fight back, they could topple these Wall Street elites who looked down on them. It was no longer just about making money from stocks; it had become a thrilling revolutionary struggle. Thus, a butterfly effect in the stock market began. A nurse with a $50,000 debt saw Gil’s call and immediately invested half a month’s wages. These capitalists had made her life miserable. Mark, working at GameStop, lost his job due to the short squeeze and couldn’t get paid for months. He invested his last $100 in GameStop. A college girl heavily in debt, whose father had worked diligently at a big retail store before being bought out by hedge funds and bankrupted, also poured all her savings into the stock, hating those capitalists. A spark can start a prairie fire. With everyone’s effort, GameStop’s stock soared to $10. In 2020, the US experienced its most depressed Christmas ever. Gil livestreamed his results: GameStop had increased fivefold since last summer, from $4 in July to $21.70 now. Few investment theories actually work in reality, but viewers kept commenting, wishing GameStop would fly to the moon. Gil earned the respect of all netizens. The reason they could buy stocks for just a few dozen dollars was thanks to an app called Robinhood, a mobile trading platform dedicated to stock trading. Registering an account allowed anyone to buy and sell stocks without trading fees. Just search the stock code, swipe to place the order, and press send—done. Robinhood’s user base soared to 20 million. They could still profit for free because they facilitated stock trading orders—users’ trades were passed to market makers who executed the orders, earning small commissions. Although the profit per trade was tiny, the huge volume made Robinhood very profitable. Several market makers partnered with Robinhood, mostly with Castle Securities. But this business model also gave Wall Street a handle on Robinhood. On January 19, 2021, GameStop’s stock hit $43. Wall Street bet it would go bankrupt, and the stock would plummet. But retail investors kept buying fiercely, delivering a heavy blow to the big players. The stock surged 70%, and in just one day, it rose to $90. Gil posted online, saying Wall Street was being squeezed, and retail investors would turn the tide from the bottom up. Short squeeze is a market mechanism—its opposite is shorting. If a stock being shorted keeps rising, short sellers need to buy back shares at high prices to cover their positions, which drives the stock even higher. As they buy back, other short sellers rush to cover, pushing the price up further. This is called a short squeeze. By then, Gil had made $11 million. If he sold now, he’d have made a huge profit. But retail investors hesitated, watching whether Gil would sell. GameStop’s stock was in an extreme situation: Wall Street held 140% short interest. Even if they bought all available shares, it wouldn’t cover the borrowed ones—they’d need to buy multiple times. The stock could keep rising infinitely. Worse, the biggest holders were the “fools’ money” in Wall Street’s eyes—hedge funds unaware that hardworking ordinary people were suffering. These hedge fund guys, born with golden spoons, ate top-grade steaks, partied on yachts, and told others they made money because “silly money” was so easy to earn. This post resonated with all retail investors. The GameStop event instantly became a class war. So what if you’re small? As long as enough of us unite, even tiny shrimp can flip the whale. Gil urged everyone to hold firm and not sell. This had nothing to do with money anymore. But Melvin was oblivious to the danger. He still told his wife that the stock would crash next week because retail investors would take profits and sell out. He believed no short squeeze had ever succeeded. But the next morning, the stock surged 103%, and 220% of retail investors bought in and refused to sell. The scene exploded across news outlets and live streams. GameStop, on the brink of collapse, suddenly became the most active trading company in the world, with the stock rising nearly 4% every minute. By night, it had surged 581%. Experts warned that the short squeeze could bankrupt several firms, especially the foolish hedge funds betting against GameStop. Gil’s wife asked, “How much did we make today?” Gil said, “5 million.” She asked, “How much yesterday?” Gil replied, “4 million.” She couldn’t believe it—“Are we really rich now?” Conversely, Melvin’s wife asked, “How much did we lose today?” Melvin answered, “One billion.” She asked, “And yesterday?” Same answer—“One billion.” News reports soon announced Melvin Capital was on the brink of bankruptcy. During an interview, Melvin tried to stay calm but was about to go live when he suddenly shut down his computer—he was finished. In just a few days, he lost 6.8 billion. Yet he had to keep investing because stopping now would mean losing everything—his last meal, his reputation. He sought help from two other funds. Wealthy investors generously invested 3 billion to bail out Melvin Capital, believing that making money off the poor was risk-free. After rescue, GameStop’s stock fluctuated wildly. The 8 million shareholders’ pooled money was dwarfed by a single statement from the hedge funds. By then, Gil had already earned 23 million. His family urged him to sell, but his wife fully supported him, knowing how much effort he had put in. Netizens waited eagerly for updates—would Gil sell or hold? Gil refused to sell. GameStop’s stock kept soaring, reaching nearly $350 per share. Even the White House took notice. The Treasury Secretary and experts intervened. As the frenzy grew, capitalists could no longer sit still. Wall Street finally fought back, bringing in major media outlets to question the stock’s rapid rise, claiming there were behind-the-scenes manipulators. This moment made Gil a stock god—though the effect was limited. They cut Gil’s forum, blocked discussion, and even fired him from Wantong Insurance. With children starving at home, many retail investors couldn’t see Gil’s posts and sold their stocks. That night, Robinhood’s app also malfunctioned. The National Securities Clearing Corporation demanded a 3 billion margin to settle all trades. Robinhood’s CEO said they only had 2 billion raised. Without enough margin, they couldn’t continue trading, and their IPO plans were in jeopardy. The next day, when millions of retail investors opened Robinhood, they found they could only sell, not buy. Panic spread. The CEO of Castle Securities contacted Robinhood’s CEO, demanding they set GameStop shares to “sell only” to reduce the margin requirement to 600k. Robinhood agreed, citing insufficient
