A margin call wipes you out in July 2026. You close your eyes, and open them on January 1st, 1999 — thirteen years old, in your parents' kitchen, next to a stack of bottled water someone bought for Y2K.
| Bought Jan 1999 | Then | Jul 2026 | Return |
|---|---|---|---|
| AAPL | $0.3082 | $308.91 | 1,002× |
| NVDA | $0.04 | — | huge |
| ENRN | $28.00 | delisted | −100% |
| Holo card | $120 | $220,000 | 1,800× |
| Plush bear | $75 | $10 | −87% |
Every stock, ETF and coin uses its actual split- and dividend-adjusted monthly close. Twenty-eight companies that went to zero are in the list too — trading normally, paying dividends, indistinguishable from the rest. Until they aren't.
All 331 months have a real headline and your own instinct about it. The instinct never names a ticker. It just knows something is coming.
This is a game about American money, so it is also a game about credit scores, student loans that bankruptcy cannot touch, and a hospital bill that arrives at the worst possible moment.
Every loan in the game — card, mortgage, HELOC, margin, and a man named Big Sal who charges 10% a month — is gated by one number you have to protect.
Short-term gains cost 25%. Hold twelve months and one day, and it is 15%. Selling a winner at eleven months is a real mistake with a real price.
Ivy League costs $200,000. Chapter 7 wipes out everything you owe — except the student loans. That is not a game rule. That is federal law.
Insurance is a monthly line item you will be tempted to skip. Medical debt is the leading cause of personal bankruptcy in the United States.
Found a dot-com in 1999. It is worth 42× by February 2000 and nearly nothing by November. You are the only person alive who knows which month.
Sixty people, four hidden identities. A prenup turns a 50% divorce into 10% — if your Smarts is high enough to get one signed.
Same 331 months for everyone. Not the same game.
Your score on The Rich List is net worth × origin multiplier. Starting from nothing counts for more.