That day I flipped through my wallet and stared at a token name for three seconds—I just couldn’t remember why I bought it in the first place. Looking at the balance, it was just a few dollars. Scrolling to the next page, there was another one. On the next page, all were the same. Dozens of GameFi relics added up, not even enough to cover a delivery fee.
I almost slapped myself. Back then, when playing those blockchain games, who wasn’t shouting ‘Ponzi’ while rushing in? The project team issued tokens like throwing paper money, and everyone was competing to ‘mine, sell, and withdraw’—a slow step meant paying the dealer.
So recently, when I saw a white paper boasting that RORS is greater than 1 (for every token issued, the system must at least earn back 1.2), my first reaction was: Are they creating new terms to harvest again? The logic is something even elementary school students understand, but in this Web3 forest where everyone cuts each other, can human brains really figure it out?
As a result, I went to dig up the AI test data just launched by Stacked, and I was really slapped in the face.
There was a particularly striking number: ‘The participation transfer rate increased by 178%.’ In simple terms—previously, when issuing rewards, it was like blindly throwing a big pot of rice, feeding only those who took it and ran. Now this AI acts like a meticulous accountant hiding in the background, analyzing a bunch of behaviors on the chain: who is a real player, who is a profit farmer, and who, after receiving rewards, not only doesn’t dump but also gets itchy to open new blind boxes.
The 178% increase means the AI helped the system plug the bleeding hole, transforming the money that was blindly scattered into a lever for reinvestment.
Relying on AI to deadlock RORS indicates one thing: that era of ‘blindly rushing to get rich’ has truly turned a page. GameFi has finally started to calculate like a legitimate business.
Of course, whether this engine can completely end Ponzi schemes still depends on the test of real money. But at least, don’t let me touch those ‘stepping on the left foot with the right foot’ idiotic schemes again—I’m really sick of it.
@Pixels $PIXEL #pixel
I almost slapped myself. Back then, when playing those blockchain games, who wasn’t shouting ‘Ponzi’ while rushing in? The project team issued tokens like throwing paper money, and everyone was competing to ‘mine, sell, and withdraw’—a slow step meant paying the dealer.
So recently, when I saw a white paper boasting that RORS is greater than 1 (for every token issued, the system must at least earn back 1.2), my first reaction was: Are they creating new terms to harvest again? The logic is something even elementary school students understand, but in this Web3 forest where everyone cuts each other, can human brains really figure it out?
As a result, I went to dig up the AI test data just launched by Stacked, and I was really slapped in the face.
There was a particularly striking number: ‘The participation transfer rate increased by 178%.’ In simple terms—previously, when issuing rewards, it was like blindly throwing a big pot of rice, feeding only those who took it and ran. Now this AI acts like a meticulous accountant hiding in the background, analyzing a bunch of behaviors on the chain: who is a real player, who is a profit farmer, and who, after receiving rewards, not only doesn’t dump but also gets itchy to open new blind boxes.
The 178% increase means the AI helped the system plug the bleeding hole, transforming the money that was blindly scattered into a lever for reinvestment.
Relying on AI to deadlock RORS indicates one thing: that era of ‘blindly rushing to get rich’ has truly turned a page. GameFi has finally started to calculate like a legitimate business.
Of course, whether this engine can completely end Ponzi schemes still depends on the test of real money. But at least, don’t let me touch those ‘stepping on the left foot with the right foot’ idiotic schemes again—I’m really sick of it.
@Pixels $PIXEL #pixel