In the 2017 ICO frenzy, a young newcomer named A Zhe was stunned by an offline launch event. The venue was dazzling with lights, the team was dressed in suits, speaking about 'global layout' and 'top-tier capital support,' and there were recorded congratulatory videos from so-called partners. The atmosphere was electric, with everyone scrambling for allocations, fearing they would miss the 'next unicorn.'
A Zhe was swept up in the excitement and scanned a code to invest tens of thousands of USDT on the spot, obtaining a 'limited private placement share.' After returning home, he became more and more excited, fantasizing about the project multiplying in value as soon as it launched. During that time, he checked group messages daily, listened to the team discuss progress, showed off the luxurious office, and displayed 'development screenshots,' as if everything was progressing steadily.
It wasn't until several weeks later that the group announcement suddenly closed, the official website became inaccessible, and the team collectively vanished. Countless investors flooded into the rights protection group, only to find out that all the videos, venues, and certificates were rented props, all part of a meticulously designed play.
At that moment, A Zhe realized:
What is most likely to lead people astray in the crypto world is not high returns, but the carefully cultivated 'professional atmosphere.'
The warning for those who come later is just one sentence:
When a project relies on packaging over product, and atmosphere over logic, what you see is not the future, but a pre-written scam scene. Maintaining skepticism is always more important than following the crowd.
