Author: David , Deep Tide TechFlow

There is a kind of poverty where you haven't done anything wrong, but you wake up one day to find yourself poorer than everyone around you.

Koreans have coined a term for this kind of poverty: 벼락거지. A direct translation would be something like " thunderbolt poverty," implying being struck by lightning and instantly transforming from an ordinary person into a poor person.

This term became popular in 2020 when South Korean housing prices skyrocketed. It refers to those who didn't buy a house, whose income didn't decrease at all, but compared to the skyrocketing housing prices, they were essentially poor.

It's recently become popular again because the South Korean stock market is now mass-producing impoverished people.

Over the past six months, the South Korean KOSPI index has surged from around 4,000 points to over 8,000 points, and today the South Korean stock market even triggered a circuit breaker at one point. Samsung Electronics and SK Hynix, two AI memory chip stocks, have propelled the entire country's stock market to new heights.

As a result, on Seoul's online forums, people were making fun of each other everywhere: "At the same company, the guy sitting across from me made ten years' worth of salary from semiconductors, while I did nothing and became a complete pauper."

These words stung the most, actually those in the cryptocurrency community.

The frustration of "everything around me is rising while I'm stuck in the same place" is something that retail investors holding cryptocurrencies experienced earlier and more deeply, and are less willing to admit. Bitcoin, which was repeatedly touted as the best asset a few years ago, has been in a slump since the big drop last October.

Staying in the cryptocurrency market and waiting for opportunities is more like a consolation for those who are not good at stock trading, and it adds to the torment of being a poor person caught in a sudden crisis.

Structural missteps, the "thunderbolt type" of poverty

There are actually two types of mishaps, and the degree of discomfort they cause is vastly different.

The first type is the collective miss-out during a bear market. Everyone loses money; your account is in the red, your friend's account is even redder, and nobody in the entire market is making money. This kind of missing out isn't too painful because there's no benchmark.

Missing out on the ride feels like dodging a disaster. That's how everyone has weathered the crypto bear market these past few years; we're used to it.

This year's situation is a different story. The cryptocurrency market as a whole is in an awkward position of structurally missing out.

The money didn't disappear; it just moved. Gold moved in, US stocks moved in, and even South Korean retirees' retirement savings moved into semiconductors. Global liquidity is like a pump running at full speed, drawing money from all directions and sending it into assets that are hitting new highs.

The only exception was that encryption was bypassed.

This is completely different from "everyone being broke." Everyone else has found a way out, but you're standing still watching money flow through the door without coming in a single penny. This kind of missing out is far more devastating than a bear market.

Bitcoin doesn't have the same safe-haven appeal as gold. While tech stocks have been hitting record highs, it hasn't kept pace. However, when the market panics, it's the first to be dumped along with other risky assets. It doesn't rise when prices are high, and it doesn't fall when prices are low—it doesn't benefit from either outcome.

Those who bought the cryptocurrency wanted to hedge against risk, but it didn't; they wanted to gamble on price volatility, but it didn't. Neither of those initial reasons for buying it have materialized this year.

Losing money, at least you have a clear way to blame yourself—you've misjudged the situation. But missing out is different; you haven't done anything wrong, the money just keeps flowing away from you, and you can't even find a specific person to blame.

As a result, the entire cryptocurrency community became known as the "thunderbolt-type poor" in the South Korean stock market.

People in the crypto world are born with a keen sense of smell and a restless spirit. The real reaction of most poor people is not to lie down, but to migrate in line with the trend.

In the past, people talked about which knock-offs could double in value on social media and online communities. Now, KOLs whose bios still mention crypto tickers are discussing Nvidia's financial report and Tesla's support level.

People simply transferred the skills they honed from cryptocurrency trading to cryptocurrency trading: analyzing candlestick charts, following trending narratives, and managing volatility. The only difference was that the underlying assets changed from altcoins to US stock tickers. Some even modified scripts they were used to writing for cryptocurrency trading, creating a tool on Vibe Coding to monitor US stocks, offering a one-stop solution for monitoring the market, issuing alerts, and automatically placing orders.

The skills weren't wasted; they were just used elsewhere.

On the other hand, crypto exchanges are also actively trying to save themselves and make adjustments, launching various on-chain US stock trading products as a result, after all, Hyperliquid has set an example for the entire crypto market.

Therefore, exchanges selling stocks is a subtle way to retain users. Users want assets that are hitting record highs, so bring in assets that are hitting record highs to keep them engaged. From retail investors constantly monitoring the market to exchanges listing new coins, the entire industry is doing the same thing:

Trying to ride the wave of market trends they missed is ultimately a form of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) driven by following trends.

Whether it's proactive or reactive, everyone understands one fact: if we don't adjust our thinking, the real gains will never be in the stocks we hold.

Don't let a missed opportunity force you to jump on the last bus.

Those who don't want to leave may still have funds available, whether through dollar-cost averaging in BTC or seeking out specific narratives; it doesn't matter if the coin hasn't gone up, my USDT hasn't decreased. I'll stay put during this bear market and wait for the next wave to rise.

If you still have your principal, just pretend it never happened.

At the beginning of 2025, the RMB exchange rate against the US dollar was between 7.2 and 7.3. It strengthened steadily into 2026, with both onshore and offshore rates breaking through 6.8 in May and entering the 6.7 range, reaching a three-year high.

What does this mean? Let's assume you stay put, maintain strict discipline, and neither chase the highs nor cut your losses. Even holding onto your positions will still result in a loss. Missing out on a rally at least means others profit while you don't; you're stuck in the same place. Now, you're stuck in the same place, and the ground beneath your feet is sinking.

Waiting and seeing is not a zero-cost wait; waiting itself is a money-burning activity.

Then a very natural thought popped into my head: since the coin isn't doing well, why not clear out my position and go FOMO with those that are rising? This thought might be much more dangerous than missing out on the gains itself.

The feeling of missing something needs to be dispelled, but it may not be by chasing after it.

To be frank, this round of crypto trading is definitely over, and we can't comfort ourselves with the idea that "it will come back later." The old logic was a four-year cycle: halving, bull market, new highs, and if you missed out, you had to wait for the next round.

The game has changed. ETFs have turned Bitcoin into a position on institutional balance sheets, and on-chain money is busy buying US stocks. Even exchanges have switched to selling stocks... This round of crypto is not the same as the crypto that could increase tenfold overnight in your memory.

Expecting it to follow the old script again is like trying to find a sword by marking the boat where it fell into the water. But acknowledging the decline of crypto doesn't mean the stock market is a safe haven.

When you rush in to chase gold, US stocks, or South Korean chip stocks, you're not actually profiting from your foresight, but from the rising tide. Right now, global liquidity has lifted all boats together; the water level is high, and everyone seems like a swimmer. The problem is, the tide will always recede.

The real test isn't whether you got on board in the first place. It's whether you have the ability to exchange your chips for cash before the waters recede.

And this is precisely what ordinary people are least good at. Back in the day, with NFTs and altcoins, it was proven time and again that we could catch the rise, but very few people successfully took profits. They always felt that it could rise again, until it went to zero.

These weaknesses won't disappear automatically in a different market. If you take the same approach to cryptocurrency trading to US stock trading, you'll likely also bring along the "reluctance to sell" mentality.

Therefore, whether or not you miss out on a winning bet might be a false premise. The ultimate goal is to take profits and exit the game.

The term "thunderbolt poor" was coined by South Koreans to mock themselves for missing out on opportunities. The English term FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) likely conveys a similar meaning. However, forcing you to measure yourself against someone else's balance sheet, or forcing you to jump into a pool you can't navigate at the highest point, is actually quite dangerous.

The real thunder is never the one you missed.

You finally managed to squeeze onto the next train, only to forget which stop you were supposed to get off at.