Know You’ve Got What It Takes?

Bootcamp

An accessible 3-step challenge with the best funding for your buck

Start on the Bootcamp plan
$475-$715 in funding for every $1 you put in

$475-$715 in funding for every $1 you put in

Up to 100% profit share

Up to 100% profit share

Bonus after the first step

Bonus after the first step

Unlimited time to pass

Unlimited time to pass

Best funding for your buck

Best funding for your buck

Scale your account on every 5% target

Scale your account on every 5% target

Funding Plans

Pay a low-cost entry fee and the rest upon success

Step 1
Step 2
Step 3
Funded Trader
Initial Balance
$5,000
$10,000
$15,000
$20,000
Profit Target
6%
6%
6%
5%
Max Loss
5%
5%
5%
4%
Daily Pause
–
–
–
3%
Leverage
1:30
1:30
1:30
1:30
Time Limit
Unlimited
Unlimited
Unlimited
Unlimited
Profit Share
–
–
–
Up to 100%
Bonus
$2 Hub Credit
–
–
–
Cost
$22
–
–
$50
Start on the Bootcamp plan

Mark Wills - Dont Laugh At Me Page

"In God's eyes," Mr. Henderson said as the chorus soared, "nobody is 'less than.' We’re all just works in progress."

The hallway felt like a gauntlet for ten-year-old Leo. Every day, the whispers followed him like a shadow—comments about his thick glasses, the way his voice occasionally cracked, or how he always sat alone at the back of the bus. To the other kids, he was just a target for easy punchlines. Mark Wills - Dont Laugh At Me

He pulled a small, battered radio from his cart and tuned it to a country station. The gentle acoustic intro of Mark Wills' filled the room. As the lyrics spoke of the boy with the glasses and the girl with the stutter, Leo felt a strange tightness in his chest. For the first time, he realized he wasn't a glitch in the system; he was part of a much larger, beautiful, broken story. "In God's eyes," Mr

Mr. Henderson stopped mopping and leaned on the handle. "You know, there’s an old song that says we’re all just 'big kids' trying to find our way. Some people wear their scars on the outside, and some hide them in their hearts. But the laughing? That’s usually because they’re afraid to look at their own cracks." To the other kids, he was just a target for easy punchlines

"In God's eyes," Mr. Henderson said as the chorus soared, "nobody is 'less than.' We’re all just works in progress."

The hallway felt like a gauntlet for ten-year-old Leo. Every day, the whispers followed him like a shadow—comments about his thick glasses, the way his voice occasionally cracked, or how he always sat alone at the back of the bus. To the other kids, he was just a target for easy punchlines.

He pulled a small, battered radio from his cart and tuned it to a country station. The gentle acoustic intro of Mark Wills' filled the room. As the lyrics spoke of the boy with the glasses and the girl with the stutter, Leo felt a strange tightness in his chest. For the first time, he realized he wasn't a glitch in the system; he was part of a much larger, beautiful, broken story.

Mr. Henderson stopped mopping and leaned on the handle. "You know, there’s an old song that says we’re all just 'big kids' trying to find our way. Some people wear their scars on the outside, and some hide them in their hearts. But the laughing? That’s usually because they’re afraid to look at their own cracks."