The Wealthy President Who Deserves a Medal

"Urgh... zxcv1234, thank you so much for the *grit* hundred-thousand-won donation..."

Curry, who had collapsed clutching the back of his neck, pushed himself back up with a groan thick with pain.

Watching him force out a thank-you to me—the one who had shoved a hundred thousand won at him—I couldn't help laughing.

If you're going to thank someone, just thank them. Why grind your teeth while you're at it?

Back in his seat, Curry took one look at the chat still freefalling into the abyss and recoiled in disgust.

By this point a manager should have stepped in and cleaned things up. That would have been normal.

Instead, Curry found his managers already synced up with the viewers, chanting hell right along with them.

"Oh, you little—"

Curry adjusted the broadcast layout and promptly arrested the two managers mid-descent.

The viewers who had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠diving into hell went wild at the sight of the arrested managers.

Ordinarily these were the same managers who would ban you the second you so much as brushed past the line. Having them on your side screaming hell right along with you made for the most reliable allies imaginable.

Curry dragged the Discord call onto the stream and hopped into the managers' channel.

Manager1 and Manager2 were waiting there for Boss Curry's judgment.

"I'll give you a chance at a final defense, managers. The penalty for dereliction of duty is docking this month's bonus. Think carefully. If you can persuade me with actual logic, I'll let this one slide."

"Ahh, so I'm trash—is that it? Unfortunately, this month's bonus is hereby—"

Just as Curry was about to hand down the sentence, something shifted in chat.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so they say.

Viewers who never typed a word. Toxic trolls who'd been gutting the chat atmosphere nonstop until they got blinded. All of them started spam-pasting RIOT and HELL one syllable at a time.

"—gone. That was the plan. But I can't say I was entirely blameless either, so I'll put it on hold."

Unable to ignore the seething public will, Curry had no choice but to pardon the two managers guilty of dereliction of duty.

Once the uproar settled, Curry hopped into practice mode to show off the "research" he'd prepared.

Namely: Renekton rushing Prowler's Claw—an assassin mythic item—as his first core.

"Ah, I know Eclipse is broken too. But..."

Curry kept talking as he demonstrated combos with Prowler's Claw.

"...if you chain it like this, the burst is no joke. And E becomes basically guaranteed, so you can stick for three engages."

Despite Curry's passionate pitch, the viewers stayed ice cold.

Renekton had long been a beloved pick among top laners. That meant no shortage of Renekton mains, and since preseason he had been one of the most thoroughly researched champions in the game.

The consensus first core among most Renekton players was Eclipse.

Like Prowler's Claw, Eclipse was an assassin mythic—but the sheer utility packed into it (% damage, a shield, a movespeed buff) made its performance overwhelming.

How dominant was Eclipse? Dominant enough that the nickname "Legend of Eclipse" had started circulating, with most AD champions building it on sight.

Even marksmen—the ones who spent every game getting assassinated—were building Eclipse. No exceptions.

That was how overtuned the item currently was.

Which was why Curry's "Prowler's Renekton" failed to win the crowd over. Renekton's first core had already been settled: Eclipse, no debate.

"Ah, I'll just show you in a real game."

Maybe he'd already accepted he wouldn't get any love for it. Curry left practice mode and queued up immediately.

When I saw the enemy first-pick lock in Renekton, the corner of my mouth curled up.

I'd sniped him again—though unfortunately I landed top instead of mid.

This time, though, top was actually the better outcome.

Curry was fully locked in on testing Prowler's Renekton, and sure enough, he picked Renekton.

Since time immemorial, the sacred rule had been clear: Renekton first-pick gets obliterated by a Quinn counterpick.

The second my turn came up, I locked Quinn without a second of hesitation.

"Bro, why the hell are you playing Quinn."

After locking in, I drank in the sight of Curry's despair.

I still didn't understand why he'd left Quinn open while planning to play Renekton—but looking at his face already full of sulking, my heart ached a little.

Come to think of it, I'd been leaning a bit too hard on the stick lately.

Sure, I'd indirectly tossed him a carrot labeled "blowing up" whenever I sniped or collabed—but that carrot was a reward he'd earned and claimed through his own ability.

It was a little annoying that he didn't even know who'd thrown him the carrot in the first place.

I pulled out my phone and opened Teu-ichi.

I'd give him a carrot—but I'd keep whipping him in real time too.

Hmm... topping up about five million won should do it, right?

Once the charge went through, I hit the donate button immediately.

"Hieeek! Of course, Chairman! I'll complete it this time and claim the reward!"

While Curry was reacting, I set the mission.

"A million-won mission just for winning this game?! I will absolutely succeed!"

Capital had rekindled Curry's will. He steeled his resolve.

Imagining Curry suffering under me yet unable to quit because of the mission sent a shiver through my body.

Then, out of nowhere, I remembered his reaction to the hundred-thousand-won donation I'd sent as Barcode—and irritation flared up.

So he preferred the chairman with a suspiciously large pile of money over Barcode, whose face was already public?

"Ha."

Unbelievable.

FlowerShopOwner and Barcode were both me.

The fact that I was getting annoyed at another version of myself—and the way Curry's eyes had gone feral over a million-won mission—was so absurd I just started laughing.

Yeah. I was definitely not right in the head.

Well. I'd known that for a long time. Even when it resurfaced, it barely registered.

And so the game began.

Minions spawned, time passed, and laning phase started.

I waited inside the first brush and didn't show myself until the three melee minions were about to die.

When Renekton couldn't see me, he stepped forward to last-hit.

I didn't miss the window—I stepped out of the brush and unilaterally beat him down.

Auto, auto, then E auto.

Press the Attack and my passive detonated together, and Renekton's health plummeted to half in an instant.

It was a trade that simply did not compute—a matchup gap so dizzying you wanted to scream about how unfair it was.

Well then, Curry. Think you can beat me this game and walk away with a million won?

Picturing him watching a million slip through his fingers right in front of him only sharpened my focus.

I couldn't wait to see it.

With that thought, I kept the pressure on Renekton.

Even when he hugged the tower, I managed the distance on a razor's edge and steadily stacked damage.

Eventually Renekton, drained dry while trying to catch minions, tried to recall behind the tower—only for me to flash boldly into turret range and dive him, forcing him to hand over first blood.

I died to the tower and got executed as a result—but the situation still favored me.

Renekton had Teleport, sure, but he'd already missed a mountain of minions. And because I'd been executed, he got no gold from it.

In the end he bought a single refillable potion and Teleported back to lane.

By the time he arrived, enemy minions had stacked up into a slow-pushing wave.

Renekton forced skills trying to shove it out—but he clearly never imagined I'd ignore the entire wave and just attack him.

At death's door, he finally burned Flash.

A freezable "die-for-it" wave formed naturally, and I held it with clean wave management until Renekton made it back to lane.

"Ah, I'm actually going insane."

Curry's irritated voice stabbed into my ears.

Lately I barely did sound play while sniping—but today, I absolutely had to.

"Aigoo... our FlowerShopOwner dropping another two hundred thousand... thank you so much. Hey, you little shit, I'm mid-reaction!"

I used the window while Curry was reacting to attack the Renekton standing still next to his tower.

He cut the reaction short and tried to fight back—and died on the spot.

"AAAAAARGH!"

The endless solo kills shattered Curry's mental state piece by piece.

Once the enemy tier-one tower fell, I stopped playing with Renekton.

I went on a world tour—enemy jungle, mid, then bot—hauling the top-lane garbage Renekton had dumped all over the map.

"Haaah... I'm getting dizzy..."

"No, you don't need to throw another two hundred ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thousand at a guy who's failing... thank you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so much, really. Thank you."

From then on, every time a crack formed in Curry's mental state, I healed it with capital.

Watching him swing between absolute hell and absolute heaven inside a single game, I thought quietly to myself:

In a way, wasn't this the true meaning of carrot and stick?

After that, while getting bullied by Quinn, Curry received a total of seven hundred thousand won in donations from the chairman with a suspicious amount of money.

In the end, the mission failed.