The night was deep. I was drunk. The light in the security booth was still on. He sat inside, watching the BNB Chain's candlestick chart. No one outside knew what was happening inside. By day, he was a security guard. By night, he was just like everyone else on the chain—a genius trader. There were no resumes here, no titles, no one would ask who you were. Only one thing: Did you dare place an order? Some were in rented rooms, some were in offices, some were in security booths like this. Different screens, same fate. No one would admit it. But everyone knew in their hearts—on this chain, everyone had thought they were a genius trader. Some survived. Some disappeared. But as long as the candlestick chart kept moving, this world, would be reborn every day with a new batch of "genius traders." He turned off the screen. Standed up, went back to his post. As if nothing had happened. But in a certain candlestick chart of BNB—he had existed. A tribute to all genius traders. A tribute to those nights that no one will record. 🍷