Ah, sardines... as predictable as a broken watch. The volume rises, the green candles flash, and there they go, racing towards the top: “Now go! It’s time to get rich!” But all it takes is the first Wolf to appear, with his imposing presence, for panic to set in.
The Wolf watches calmly, like a maestro about to conduct chaos. Meanwhile, the sardines begin to writhe. A sale here, another there, and the graph gives its first waver. The Wolf smiles. He knows what’s coming next: the sardines tremble, blink at the screen, and fear takes over. “What if it falls?”
And falls. The price plummets like a meteor, and what do the sardines do? They run, desperate, as if the market has turned into a minefield. They sell everything, hand over the gold, shout “manipulation!” while the Wolf calmly collects the fruits of his game.
The volume, of course, remains there, stable and imposing, like a silent message: “You didn’t understand anything, did you?” The market, after all, is a well-rehearsed theater, where the Wolves pull the strings and the sardines dance to the sound of fear.
