From a forgotten small town in England, to crime-ridden streets, to the pinnacle of the most adventurous trades in cryptocurrency.
Turning $7,000 in an overlooked meme coin into $25 million.
From a billion-dollar Bitcoin gamble that made Wall Street traders weep with envy.
To watching $100 million evaporate in the final liquidation, while the entire cryptocurrency world looked on in horror.
Meet James Wynn—the trader who embodies the wildest dreams and the most terrifying nightmares of every 'fallen one.'
His story began with a TRS-80 computer and the desire born of poverty, ultimately climaxing with one of the most transparent trading collapses in cryptocurrency history.
The conclusion of this story poses a core question that strikes at the heart of this industry.
The person known as 'moonpig' on Hyperliquid became a significant lesson to learn from in the cryptocurrency space. Let's delve into the rise and spectacular fall of this fallen king.
James Wynn was not born into a privileged family.
According to his own account on social media, he comes from a 'forgotten small town' in England—a place characterized by high crime rates, drug abuse, alcoholism, and extreme poverty.
"I was born at the bottom," he said.
This is not a typical Silicon Valley entrepreneur's origin story.
No Stanford MBA, no family connections, and no venture capital background.
He was just a kid 'barely making ends meet each week,' yet he developed a risk appetite that made hedge fund managers uneasy.
When you have nothing, betting everything seems like a rational choice. When survival is your bottom line, extreme leverage is just another Tuesday.
Specific details about his early life are deliberately kept vague—James Wynn has always kept his personal identity secret, trading under aliases and wallet addresses. However, the kind of desire he describes is evident in every transaction he made later.
By 2020, he had entered the cryptocurrency space.
The first clue appeared in December 2020 when blockchain investigators found that he received $6,000 worth of Ethereum from Alameda Research—the now-infamous trading company of Sam Bankman-Fried.
It is unclear whether this fund was seed money, service fees, or something else. What matters is that this fund gave Wynn the initial chips.
Because he is about to convert this chip into extraordinary wealth.
The trade that made James Wynn famous started from boredom.
In 2023, as he mentioned in his X posts, while browsing micro-cap meme coins on iToken, he stumbled upon something that changed his life: PEPE, inspired by the 'Pepe the Frog' internet meme.
At that time, the market cap was only $600,000. Most traders were even reluctant to pay gas fees.
But Wynn saw something different.
Wynn began hoarding PEPE tokens with an initial capital of about $7,000, almost unnoticed. Then, he did something to solidify his legend: he made a public prediction.
In April 2023, when the market cap of PEPE reached $4.2 million, Wynn claimed it would reach $4.2 billion.
It was a 1000x prediction. For a meme coin. Based on a cartoon frog.
The crypto world was mocking him. Then PEPE actually developed according to Wynn's predictions.
By December 2024, PEPE's market cap exceeded $10 billion. Wynn's $7,000 turned into about $25 million—over a 3,500x return.
But money is only part of the story. This prediction made Wynn a legend in the meme coin circle.
He was not just lucky—he publicized his goals and achieved them.
The community called him the '10U War God'—referring to starting small and expanding to millions. His Twitter followers hung on his every word.
Things began to get complicated from here.
Success in the crypto world brings followers.
But followers also bring responsibilities.
And responsibility was never Wynn's strong suit.
By 2024, with the success of PEPE, Wynn began promoting other tokens. His model was simple: find a micro-cap meme coin, quietly accumulate, then publicly promote.
The ELON event defined this phase of his career.
In April 2024, Wynn began promoting a token called ELON, with enthusiasm that matched his for PEPE. He issued 'crazy orders' and sparked excitement in the community. His fans were unaware that he was secretly hoarding vast assets in multiple wallets.
As the price of ELON soared, Wynn claimed that the token had 'problems' and announced he would liquidate. The price plummeted nearly 70% almost immediately.
Followers who bought based on his recommendations saw their tokens become worthless, while Wynn walked away with profits.
This operation was swift and fierce. The community that once hailed him as a prophet now condemned him as a manipulator. The reputation he built on the success of PEPE was now completely gone.
Similar accusations followed for other tokens.
BabyPepe: Wynn was accused of obtaining 2% of the token supply, promoting it in his Telegram group, and then immediately selling it for a profit of $68,000.
MOONPIG: He allegedly purchased 3% of the total supply, pumped the price through social media, then sold his holdings.
WYNN and ELON tokens: Despite his backing, both tokens plummeted after issuance.
Wynn denied any wrongdoing, claiming he was 'just an investor, not involved in the development or manipulation of the token.' But the damage was done.
The god of meme coins has fallen. It's time to reshape himself.
In March 2025, James Wynn made a defining decision for his legend: he deposited about $6 million into the decentralized perpetual contract exchange Hyperliquid.
The platform was perfect for Wynn's new strategy: high leverage, low fees, and complete transparency for all trades. Unlike centralized exchanges that hide the moves of large holders, every position on Hyperliquid is public.
Wynn was not just trading—he was performing.
From March to May 23, 2025, he executed 39 leveraged trades with a win rate of 43.59%. But it was not the win rate that drew attention, but the scale of the trades.
His leveraged operations were anything but easy.
He regularly used 40x leverage on Bitcoin and 10x leverage on meme coins, with an average leverage rate of about 22x. This meant that the $55.8 million in collateral he held controlled positions worth over $1.25 billion.
By May 10, his profitability was remarkable.
By May 23, his profits peaked at $87 million.
His trading brought substantial fees to Hyperliquid—over $2.3 million in just two months. Some speculate he was intentionally showcasing the platform's capabilities.
"They want me to trade on ByBit, but even if they offered me $1 million a month, I wouldn't stop using Hyperliquid," Wynn claimed. "I publicize my trades partly because I want Hyperliquid to dominate exchange market share, as other exchanges are corrupt."
This transparency is intoxicating. This trader is willing to show every position, every profit, and every loss. The crypto world is fascinated by it.
They are about to witness history—just not the kind that Wynn anticipated.
May 19, 2025. Bitcoin: $103,302.
James Wynn opened a 5,520 Bitcoin long position at 40x leverage at a price of $103,302, with a liquidation price of $98,294.
In the next seven days, he experienced increasingly desperate trades, ultimately leading to a fortune evaporating and triggering the most public collapse in cryptocurrency history.
Days 1-2 (May 19-20): Wynn expanded his position to 7,764 Bitcoins, with a notional value of $830 million. His average entry price moved to $105,033, with a liquidation price of $100,330.
Day 3 (May 21): He increased his position to 9,371.71 Bitcoins, with a position value exceeding $1 billion. The unrealized profits from this trade were $10.71 million, with an average entry price of $108,005. Later that day, he closed 2,139 Bitcoins, realizing a profit of $11.92 million.
Day 4 (May 22): Opened a long position of 10,200 Bitcoins at a price of $108,065. As Bitcoin's price touched $111,900, the unrealized profits peaked at $39 million.
Day 5 (May 23): The turning point. After Trump announced a 50% tariff on EU imports, Bitcoin fell 4% to $106,700. Wynn closed another PEPE position, realizing a profit of $25.18 million, and increased his Bitcoin long position to 11,588 Bitcoins, with an average entry price of $108,243. Liquidation level: $105,180.
Day 6 (May 24): He closed a position at $107,746, losing $13.39 million. In desperation, he turned to shorting, increasing his Bitcoin short position to 7,967.83 Bitcoins, worth $856 million, ultimately closing at $111,280.
Day 7 (May 26): The final blow. Wynn closed a Bitcoin short position worth over $1 billion, losing about $15.87 million within 15 hours.
Total losses over seven days: about $65 million.
His profits at their peak had reached $87 million, but now they had fallen to about $27 million. However, this figure is misleading—because the losses were far from over.
Day 8 (May 30): As Bitcoin fell below $105,000, James Wynn was liquidated, losing 949 Bitcoins worth $99.3 million.
The reality of his Hyperliquid dashboard—a sea of red liquidation marks—tells the story of his complete bankruptcy. Arkham intelligence platform confirmed the scale of the losses:
His response?
From peak profits of $87 million to total liquidation. The transparency that once made him famous recorded every step of his bankruptcy for the world to see.
Perhaps the cruelest aspect of Wynn's downfall is that it was public.
As Hyperliquid made all transactions transparent, other traders could see his exact liquidation levels. What happened next was described by blockchain analyst Lookonchain as a 'brutal hunt.'
Canny traders deliberately targeted his stop-loss and liquidation levels. The transparency that had built his follower base turned into a weapon used against him.
Some traders even adopted an 'anti-Wynn strategy.' According to on-chain data, one trader realized $5.6 million in profits within three days by doing the opposite of Wynn's positions.
The psychological pressure was immense. Every move he made was under strict scrutiny, and every loss was celebrated by critics. The hunter became the hunted.
In moments of sobriety, Wynn tried to pull away.
"Now I’ve decided to leave the casino with a profit of $25 million," he posted on May 26. "It was fun, but now it's time for me to leave as a winner."
Five hours later, someone discovered he opened a 10x leveraged long position of $20 million in PEPE.
His addiction was too strong. The show must go on.
As Wynn's trading losses continued to mount, blockchain investigator ZachXBT launched a devastating attack on his reputation.
Just as Wynn warned fans to be wary of scam tokens named after him, ZachXBT accused him of hypocrisy, claiming he was 'gambling with stolen money' on Hyperliquid.
These accusations are specific and solid.
Connection with Alameda: ZachXBT hinted that Wynn's trading funds came from suspicious sources linked to the FTX/Alameda collapse, citing an ETH transfer from December 2020 as evidence.
Pump-and-dump scheme: Detailed allegations that Wynn promoted low-market-cap meme coins, then dumped them for profit, leading to losses for his followers.
BabyPepe Incident: X user Dylan posted a 15-thread post alleging that Wynn applied for and received a private allocation of BabyPepe tokens, promoting these tokens publicly, then immediately selling them while cutting ties with the development team.
FTX creditor activist Sunil Kavuri bluntly stated: "James Wynn's trading is like a steroid version of Alameda, as he is likely a trader there."
Wynn denies any wrongdoing but has not provided detailed rebuttals to specific allegations. His reputation is severely damaged and it's permanent.
James Wynn represents the double-edged sword of cryptocurrency—both a prophet and a cautionary tale, embodying all the glories and flaws of our industry.
The good side: Wynn proved that genuine insight remains crucial in the world of cryptocurrency. His predictions about price-to-earnings ratios were not based on luck, but rather on research, conviction, and the courage to act when others were unwilling. He demonstrated that a hungry outsider could outdo resource-rich institutional investors. His radical transparency challenged an industry built on opacity, showing retail investors how whale-sized positions work in real time.
The bad side: Wynn's transition from trader to influencer exposed one of the most toxic dynamics in the cryptocurrency space—monetization of fans. His alleged pump-and-dump schemes revealed how easily market insight could be transformed into market manipulation when the audience becomes a source of exit liquidity. His $100 million liquidation proved that when self-awareness overrides risk management, even true skill becomes irrelevant.
We have created an ecosystem where social media followers equate to financial credibility, transparency becomes performance art, and extreme risk is repackaged as 'alpha generation.' His demise was livestreamed to nearly a million followers, who conflated gambling addiction with trading genius.
The deeper question is whether the transparency of cryptocurrency brings accountability or vulnerability. Traditional finance hides institutional failures behind closed doors, while cryptocurrency livestreams in 4K resolution with live commentary. This is not progress—it's more like a voyeuristic disguise for innovation.
Wynn's story forces us to reflect: Are we building a financial system that rewards skill and innovation, or are we just creating the most complex casino in the world, where the house always wins and the players are always performing?
The fallen king has fallen, but the kingdom that created him grows ever stronger.
So are we now expecting a comeback?
