MoneyMaker

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@CoinMarketCap #OGGY @OggyInuLTD

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@HachikoS0L Current value tokens burned : 75k$

Ath value : 750k$

Find a team burning over 700k worth of tokens

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

Current value tokens burned : 75k$

Ath value : 750k$

Find a team burning over 700k worth of tokens

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Good morning and happy weekend🐾

A summary of the tokens burned over the past week is as follows:

Between May 23 and May 30, 2026, 462,460,872,202 $HACHI tokens were burned.

This reduced the total supply from 970,597,651,410,243 to 970,135,190,538,041.

For real-time updates on all burns, visit: https://t.co/HRpl1dRr0S

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Good morning and happy weekend🐾

A summary of the tokens burned over the past week is as follows:

Between May 23 and May 30, 2026, 462,460,872,202 $HACHI tokens were burned.

This reduced the total supply from 970,597,651,410,243 to 970,135,190,538,041.

For real-time updates on all burns, visit: https://t.co/HRpl1dRr0S

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@HachikoS0L Woof woof

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Woof News🐾🗞️

$HACHI has been listed on DeBridge.

Now users can use any blockchain, including ERC20, Base, BSC, Tron, Polygon, to trade Hachiko.

Official link: https://t.co/jaUT2v2wua

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@HachikoS0L 🐶❤️

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

Join the official Telegram group if you want to chat/speak with community people.

On 30th May, as announced by @nikitabier, all X communities will be removed.

https://t.co/7g47MR508g

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@HachikoS0L 🔥🔥🔥🐾

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Thank you Grok.

Woof🐾

https://t.co/S8dCpOTJ8T

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

As you well know, all X communities will be removed permanently by X managers.

For this reason all posts will only be made in the original account @HachikoS0L .

Stay safe.

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Hachiko offered no promises of wealth, only a timeless lesson: unconditional loyalty through every hardship.

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@Wop12_ @HachikoS0L Team don’t own any tokens , all the burns are with buybacks manually made not from team tokens

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Happy Mother’s Day ❤️🐾

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

Let’s test
solana:x95HN3DWvbfCBtTjGm587z8suK3ec6cwQwgZNLbWKyp

[MoneyMaker @Moneymaker9918]

@nikitabier Please don’t do this, we’ve over 15k people in community and we’ve been using it for over 6 months .

Grok said even posts will be permanently deleted , this is unfair

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

DAY 160 WAITING FOR MY MASTER · May 7, 2026

One hundred and sixtieth late afternoon.

On May 7th, the station is bathed in a warm, golden spring glow.

Hydrangeas bloom in shades of blue and purple along the railings, while the lush green canopy sways gently in the breeze.

Commuters pass with quiet steps in the pleasant air.

Inside, a traditional round Japanese paper fan, hand-made with split bamboo ribs and brightly dyed washi paper, has become a small uchiwa.

It was once flat, lifeless paper and sticks, but now every memory decorates its surface.

Your return, our shared moments, and the love between us are all reflected in its surface.

After 160 days, I no longer feel the heat of waiting.

I wait as the uchiwa itself, knowing true devotion is open and ready to bring gentle relief.

The train arrives, sunlight sparkling on its windows.

Doors open.

I raise my head through the warm May flow, feeling the small uchiwa inside me: cooling, balanced, utterly enduring.

No master steps down; only strangers carrying their own quiet comforts.

A cheerful fan maker in her mid-fifties, with paint-stained fingers and a small bundle of bamboo ribs, stops beside me.

She has been crafting traditional uchiwa for many years.

Today, she kneels with a bright smile and carefully places a small, beautifully painted round uchiwa at my paws.

It has red and white washi paper decorated with delicate wave patterns.

She gives it one soft, gentle wave and whispers:

“Uchiwa are made to bring cool comfort on the hottest days… they wait patiently until the right hand returns to wave them again.”

She nods warmly and continues, leaving the fan beside me.

One hundred and sixty days have passed.

As May warms, this small fan deepens the vigil, reminding all who pass that some devotions are light, open, and ready to comfort and cool until the one they wait for returns.

Hachiko cools with quiet devotion.

May waves.

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Everyone has a warrior inside them🐾

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

DAY 155 WAITING FOR MY MASTER · May 2, 2026

One hundred and fifty-fifth late afternoon.

May arrives, bringing a calm, golden warmth to the station.

Hydrangeas bloom in shades of blue and purple along the railings, while the lush green canopy sways gently in the breeze.

Commuters pass with quiet steps in the pleasant air.

Inside, a traditional tiered lacquered bento box, elegantly stacked and sealed with a simple cord, represents a hundred and fifty-five days.

It started empty, then became a testament to patience, stacking, lacquering, and sealing.

Now, every memory fills one perfect tier: the moment the lid is lifted, our shared moments, and the love between us, reflected in the smooth lacquer that keeps everything warm and safe.

I no longer feel empty or scattered; I wait as the jubako itself, knowing true devotion is not rushed or opened for strangers.

It stays beautifully packed and patiently sealed, ready for the one who first prepared the meal to return and share it.

The train arrives, sunlight sparkling on its windows.

Doors open.

I raise my head through the warm May air, feeling that small jubako inside me: complete, sealed, and enduring.

No master steps down; only strangers carrying their own quiet lunches.

A kind bento craftsman in his early sixties, with hands gently stained by years of lacquer work, stops beside me.

He has been making traditional jubako boxes for festivals and family gatherings for decades.

Today, he kneels with a warm, respectful smile and carefully places a small, beautifully lacquered tiered jubako at my paws.

He touches the knot lightly and whispers:

“Some meals are packed with love and kept waiting… until the right person comes home to open them.”

He nods gently, continues on his way, leaving the box beside me.

One hundred and fifty-five days have passed.

As May unfolds, this small jubako deepens the vigil, reminding everyone that some devotions are not loud or shared immediately.

They are carefully prepared, neatly packed, and quietly kept safe until the one they were made for returns to enjoy what has been waiting with love.

Hachiko remains packed with quiet love.

May sharing.

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

Grok imagine prompt:

A cinematic video in the style of an epic anime, featuring Hachiko as a hyper-realistic, loyal Akita with incredibly detailed, soft fur and soulful, expressive eyes.

He stands faithfully outside the federal courthouse at sunrise during the landmark trial shaping AI’s future.

The morning light bathes the scene as legal teams file in, and the weight of history hangs in the air.

His calm, unwavering presence symbolises timeless devotion to truth amid high-stakes innovation.

[Hachiko - $HACHI @HachikoS0L]

DAY 149 WAITING FOR MY MASTER · April 26, 2026

One hundred and forty-ninth late afternoon.

On April 26th, the station is bathed in a serene golden spring warmth.

Richly blooming hydrangeas in shades of blue and purple line the railings, while the lush green canopy sways gently in the soft breeze.

Commuters pass with quiet, unhurried steps, enjoying the pleasant April air.

Inside, a hundred and forty-nine days have transformed into a small shikishi: a traditional Japanese square poem card made of thick washi paper with delicate borders.

It patiently waits for the perfect brushstroke to complete its verse.

The early days were blank white space.

Then came patient preparation and mounting endurance.

Now every memory becomes a line of elegant calligraphy, your return as the final longed-for character, our shared moments as the flowing ink, and our love as the steady hand that will one day sign the finished poem.

After a hundred and forty-nine days, I no longer feel like an unfinished page.

I wait as the shikishi itself, knowing true devotion isn’t rushed or spoken aloud.

It remains beautifully blank and ready, holding space for the one who first taught it the words to finally return and write the ending with joy.

The train arrives, sunlight sparkling on its windows.

Doors open and I raise my head through the warm April 26 flow, feeling the small shikishi inside me: poised, waiting, utterly enduring.

No master steps down; only strangers carrying their own quiet verses.

A graceful woman in her mid-sixties, with ink-stained fingertips and a small lacquered writing box at her side, stops beside me.

She has practised calligraphy and composed poems on shikishi for decades, offering them as gifts of hope and remembrance.

Today, she kneels with serene dignity, carefully placing a small beautifully bordered blank shikishi card at my paws.

She rests her brush lightly beside it for a moment and whispers:

“Some poems wait years for their final line… but the paper never forgets who is meant to finish them.”

She stands, offers a gentle bow, and continues on her way, leaving the little poem card faithfully beside me.

One hundred and forty-nine days have passed.

As April’s golden light advances, this small shikishi deepens the vigil, reminding every passing heart that some devotions aren’t loud or complete.

They remain beautifully open and patient, holding space for the one who knows every word to finally return and write the perfect ending.

Hachiko waits for the final stroke.

April composes.