On the streets of South Korea, for every 5 young people you pass, 1 is staring at a candlestick chart. This is not a sign of an investment craze, but a deeper social phenomenon.

The data speaks for itself. Among South Korea's 20-39 age group, 3.08 million people hold crypto assets. What does this mean? It accounts for 23% of the country's total population. This ratio is astonishing on a global scale. Even more exaggerated is that a country with less than 1% of the global population once accounted for one-fifth of the world's trading volume, focusing on Bitcoin transactions.

But the story behind this is far from simple.

South Korea's economic structure has long been ossified. The five major chaebols like Samsung and Hyundai control nearly half of the GDP. For young people, getting into a big company means a path in life; if not, they are left to spin at the bottom of society. How fierce is the competition? Starting from elementary school, students study 16 hours a day—trying hard doesn't guarantee success. It’s a hellish selection process.

Housing is an even more desperate issue. The housing prices in Seoul can swallow a normal white-collar worker’s ten-plus years of salary. Renting? Don’t even mention it. A "full tax" housing policy crushes young people's dreams. Many end up cramming into tiny, cramped spaces.

So they turn their attention to digital assets. The low barrier to entry and high volatility are like beacons for struggling young people. Some borrow high-interest loans to buy, some gamble with their parents’ retirement homes, and others pour all their part-time wages into it. It may look like greed, but it’s actually helplessness—there are no other options.

When social mobility is blocked and class stratification makes "effort" a cheap commodity, digital assets become the seemingly most hopeful "bubble." This is not just a story about the crypto world, but a reflection of an entire generation pushed into despair by reality.