In a plot twist worthy of a soap opera, TRON DAO announced that the attack wasn’t just regular hacking—it was social engineering. That’s right: the digital equivalent of someone saying, “Hey kid, want some candy?” but for crypto. The scammer buddyed-up to a team member, snuck into the account, and started hustling a phony contract like a used car salesman at a demolition derby. 🚗💥
Elsewhere, in the great steppe of speculation, Chainlink marched resolutely towards the $15 frontier—a psychological no man’s land littered with the regrets of “out of the money” wanderers. These poor souls, having bought high and watched their fortunes dwindle, now cluster at the resistance point, ready to sell with the zeal of nobles fleeing from Moscow.
So it was that a certain analyst, the illustrious Carl Runefelt, remarked with the confidence of a man who’s won at cards one time too many, that Cardano seemed to be folding into a symmetrical triangle on the 4-hour chart. “Triangle! Triangle!” the crowd echoed, as if the shape itself possessed some ancient Slavic magic. ADA coiled tightly, as a cat before the fire, while bulls and bears—creatures of similar disposition, but with opposing loyalty to optimism and despair—clawed at one another with the single-mindedness of bored aristocrats on a Sunday.
“This is your doomsday scenario,” quoth Soni (via tweet, that most literary of modern missives), while lamenting that even those blessed with such capital prefer to tie their fortunes to the anxieties of traditional financial advisors, who regard cryptocurrency with the suspicion normally reserved for illicit liaisons at Ascot.
First, whispers fluttered: “$5 billion for Circle.” Next, rumors balloon to $20 billion! Who writes these numbers, Roald Dahl’s accountant? Any bigger and they’ll have to pay in golden tickets!
The somber technical waltz continues. XRP, like a desperate letter smuggled through prison walls, clings between the executioner’s trendline at $2.20 and the grim comfort of a 200 EMA mattress, somewhere around $1.99. The RSI, with the existential inertia of a chain gang, has chosen the soft middle ground: 51. There is no wind; the asset merely coils, like a political prisoner plotting escape, and the atmosphere is ready for one of those volatility “incidents” the guards dread. Naturally, the whole world can see it coming—except those who matter.
On the glorious morning of May 4, 2025—never to be forgotten by enthusiastic XRP holders—a tweet flew into the ether, much like Tolstoy’s own words careened across Russia, only with fewer beards and more rocket emojis. The tweet pointed solemnly at a shift: the kind of shift that makes even hardened investors change their mind about the price, or at the very least, adjust their monocles.
A report—deciphered amid the ceaseless hum of Point Daily’s typewriters—declares the crypto legions now command more capital than the KOSPI itself. Is this progress, comrades? Or merely KOSPI’s tragic understudy, rehearsing lines about the future while holding up a mirror to the old world’s corporate lumpenproletariat?
Whale Alert (no relation to actual whales, whose financial acumen remains untested) relayed on the digital wind:
Whale Alert (no relation to actual whales, whose financial acumen remains untested) relayed on the digital wind: