$PI $PI #PI #PI #PI Reposting to share a story. Please have Pi friends and family widely share this post. 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 through!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

He could only drink 50-cent beer, but used all his family savings to invest in 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—after all, he had a wife and kids to support. Gil said he not only bought stocks but also invested all his equipment into GameStop. The friend thought Gil was joking, but when he showed his phone proof, they realized Gil was completely crazy. GameStop was the world's largest retail giant for TV games and entertainment software at the time, but under the impact of online shopping and digital gaming, its stock had fallen 90% over the past three years. Wall Street wanted to make a quick buck by taking advantage of the situation, including famous American firms like Castle Securities and the 72 Hedge Fund, with Melvin Capital being the biggest. Melvin’s CEO was only 36 then, already the most profitable hedge fund on Wall Street. He had been making money by shorting GameStop for six consecutive years, driving the stock from $28 to $2. The store owners changed six times in two years. They planned to continue shorting GameStop, already celebrating their victory early with champagne at halftime. So Gil’s action of buying GameStop stock was almost like throwing money into the water. But unexpectedly, when he woke up, GameStop’s stock price suddenly surged 130%. This unprecedented surge scared Melvin to the point of peeing himself. He absolutely didn’t expect the reason for the stock’s rise was because a small internet celebrity, Gil, 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, because of a childhood friend’s words, he doubted 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, turned on 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 some mocked him, Gil chose to respond humorously rather than avoid. Then he seriously shared his views on investing in GameStop. Wall Street’s big players had shorted GameStop, causing its stock to hit a low of $3.85. Gil believed Wall Street’s big sharks had made a wrong judgment this time. Their shorting severely underestimated GameStop’s value, which had already been shorted by 140%. This meant the more retail investors bought, the more the shorts would lose—despite most people buying digital games online, a quarter of loyal customers still preferred buying physical discs at GameStop. Wall Street was deliberately messing around. As long as retail investors united to push the stock price up and refused to sell, they could crush the capitalists’ big short positions and make a huge profit. But Wall Street always thought retail investors were just a mob—short-sighted fools only interested in immediate gains. They called these ordinary people’s money the easiest fool’s gold. When Melvin saw retail investors entering, he excitedly added 600k more shares to short, waiting for the stock to fall. These retail investors were the “chives” he wanted to harvest. But he never expected 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 elites. Online comments flooded in, encouraging each other, buying the stock madly, calling everyone to join the fight. Because they had nothing to lose, if everyone spent a few hundred or thousand dollars to fight back, they could topple these Wall Street elites who looked down on them. This was no longer just about making money from stocks; it had become a thrilling revolutionary struggle. Thus, a butterfly effect in stocks began. A nurse with $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 also 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 Wall Street funds and bankrupted, also poured all her savings into the stock, hating these capitalists. A spark can start a prairie fire. With everyone’s effort, GameStop’s stock soared to $10. In 2020, the most recession-hit Christmas in U.S. history, Gil livestreamed his results: GameStop had multiplied five times since last summer, from $4 in July to $21.70 now. Few investment theories truly work, but viewers commented in the live chat, wishing GameStop to 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. Unlike traditional financial apps, Robinhood had no trading fees, making it accessible to almost everyone—just search the stock code, swipe, and press send. Orders were completed instantly. Robinhood’s user base once surged 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 a small commission. Although the profit 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 collapse, and the stock would plummet. Retail investors started buying madly, delivering a heavy blow to the big players. GameStop’s stock surged 70%, and just a day later, it hit $90. Gil posted online: Wall Street was being squeezed. Retail investors were turning the tide from the bottom up, climbing to new heights. Short squeeze is a stock market mechanism—its opposite of shorting. If a shorted stock keeps rising, short sellers need to buy back shares at high prices to cover their positions, because they borrowed the shares and must return them within a deadline. When many short sellers buy back to cut losses, it pushes the stock price higher. Other short sellers see this and buy in to stop losses, causing the stock to keep rising—this is called a short squeeze. At this point, Gil had already made $600k. If he sold now, he’d have made a huge profit. But retail investors hesitated—they watched Gil to see if he would sell. GameStop’s stock faced an extreme situation: Wall Street held 140% short interest. Even if they bought all the shares, it wouldn’t be enough to cover the borrowed ones—they’d need to buy multiple times. So GameStop’s stock could keep rising infinitely. Even scarier, the large shareholders were the “fools” in Wall Street’s eyes—hedge funds that didn’t realize that their daily hard work left them with nothing. They were born with golden spoons, at the top of the pyramid, eating top-grade steaks, partying at luxury clubs and yachts. When asked how they had so much money, they said it was because “fools’ money” was the easiest to make. This post resonated with all retail investors. The GameStop event instantly became a class war. What if you’re just a tiny shrimp? As long as enough of us join, even a shrimp can flip a whale. Gil urged everyone to hold firm and not sell. It’s not about money anymore; it’s a glorious revolution. And so, a stock butterfly effect began. A nurse with $50,000 debt saw Gil’s call and invested half her wages. These capitalists had made her life miserable. Mark, working at GameStop, lost his job and couldn’t get paid. He invested his last $100. A college girl, whose father had been bankrupted by Wall Street funds, poured all her savings into the stock, hating these capitalists. A spark can ignite a prairie fire. With everyone’s effort, GameStop’s stock soared to $10. In 2020, the U.S. experienced its bleakest Christmas. Gil livestreamed his results: GameStop had increased fivefold since last summer, from $4 to $21.70. Few investment theories truly work, but viewers cheered for the stock to go to the moon. Gil gained respect from all netizens. The reason they could buy stocks for just a few dollars was thanks to Robinhood, a mobile app dedicated to stock trading. Registering an account allowed anyone to buy and sell stocks without fees. Robinhood’s user base once surged to 20 million. They profited by passing orders to market makers, earning small commissions. Several market makers partnered with Robinhood, mainly with Castle Securities. But this business model also gave Wall Street leverage over Robinhood. On January 19, 2021, GameStop hit $43. Wall Street bet it would fail, and the stock would crash. Retail investors bought madly, causing a surge of 70%. The next day, it hit $90. Gil posted: Wall Street was being squeezed. Retail investors were rising from the bottom, reaching new heights. Short squeeze is a market mechanism—its opposite of shorting. When a stock keeps rising, short sellers buy back shares at high prices to cover their positions, pushing the price even higher. This process is called a short squeeze. Gil had already made $11 million. If he sold now, he’d be rich. But investors hesitated—they watched Gil to see if he would sell. GameStop’s stock faced an extreme situation: 140% short interest. Even if they bought all shares, it wouldn’t cover the borrowed ones—they’d need to buy multiple times. So the stock could keep rising infinitely. The big shareholders were the “fools” in Wall Street’s eyes—hedge funds unaware that their daily efforts left them with nothing. Born with golden spoons, they ate top steaks and partied on yachts. When asked about their wealth, they said it was because “fools’ money” was the easiest to earn. This story resonated with all retail investors. The GameStop event became a class war. What if you’re just a tiny shrimp? As long as enough of us join, even a shrimp can flip a whale. Gil urged everyone to hold firm and not sell. It’s not about money anymore; it’s a glorious revolution. And so, a stock butterfly effect began.