Elliot York's laugh echoed through East 18th Street, filled with condescension and arrogance. "So, Mike Carter, you're finally catching on? Good. This just makes things more fun."
Mike's sharp gaze swept the scene. Sure enough, professional camera crews were stationed at the street's edge. The Millers had clearly kicked off their rival project, "True Billionaire."
Mike didn't care what kind of show they planned to shoot, but one thing was non-negotiable: Amelia Song would not be part of it. A private person with challenges of her own, Amelia didn't need the chaos of public scrutiny.
"Fine," Mike thought, his jaw tightening. "But if they insist on pushing this, I'll dismantle the Millers within 24 hours."
Mike broke the tense silence. "Alright, York. I just tipped 5,000 Super Rockets—your turn."
Five thousand Super Rockets. Ten million dollars.
The crowd gasped, their eyes darting between Mike and Elliot. This wasn't just a tip war; this was history in the making.
Elliot sneered, slamming his palm on the table for effect. "You think I'm scared? I'll double it!" He tipped 6,000 Super Rockets.
Mike's smirk didn't waver. Leaning back, he crossed his arms and said, "Elliot, no need to go broke proving a point. But since you want to play big, let's raise the stakes—double or nothing." Without hesitation, Mike sent 10,000 Super Rockets. Twenty million dollars.
The crowd's collective gasp was deafening. Even Elliot, usually full of bravado, looked shaken as he stared at his phone.
Kenneth Brooks, standing beside Mike, pumped his fist in excitement. "That's my guy!" he whispered fiercely.
Elliot hesitated. The Millers had given him a substantial budget for the show, but this was escalating fast. He couldn't afford to burn through it all in a single day. Turning slightly, he muttered into his phone, sending a frantic message to Chris Miller.
Chris, watching from a private room with his father, James Miller, tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Dad, should we let him go further? He's already spent nearly half his allocated budget."
James didn't blink. "Yes. Winning this is crucial. Imagine the headlines: 'True Billionaire Contestant Crushes Rival Show's Backer.' It's worth every penny."
Chris nodded and typed out his response: "Don't hold back. Spend whatever it takes to humiliate Mike Carter."
Minutes later, Elliot raised the stakes, tipping 15,000 Super Rockets. Thirty million dollars.
The crowd erupted in chaos, reporters buzzing with excitement. "This is insane," one student whispered. "I didn't know anyone could throw around that kind of money."
Mike, calm as ever, tipped again. "Here's 20,000 Super Rockets. Fifty million."
Elliot's face turned pale. His hands trembled as he messaged Chris again. "He's crazy! Do we keep going?"
Chris hesitated, glancing at his father.
James exhaled slowly. "This is a war of image. If we back down now, we lose all credibility. Push forward."
Moments later, Elliot tipped 30,000 Super Rockets. Sixty million dollars.
The crowd buzzed with disbelief. This wasn't a battle of wealth—it was a spectacle.
Mike smiled, finally speaking. "Impressive, Elliot. But let's be clear—no amount of money will buy Amelia's heart. She's not for sale."
Elliot barked out a laugh, though his tone was strained. "Who cares? This is about the thrill."
Mike's expression didn't waver. "Then let me show you something truly thrilling." He gestured toward Amelia's barbecue stand. "Did you know I recently bought the live-streaming platform we're using? I noticed a stream at my friend's stand, so I thought I'd show some support."
The reporters exchanged confused glances. "Wait, are you saying you own this platform?" one finally asked.
Mike shrugged, his voice light. "That's right. Picked it up for under a million dollars last week. Thought it'd be a good way to support student creators. And, well, it seems my investment's already paying off. Thanks for the tips, Elliot."
The crowd fell silent. The reporters' pens froze midair. Even Elliot seemed frozen, trying to process what he'd just heard.
In their monitoring room, Chris and James Miller stared at the screen in stunned silence.
"He… owns the platform?" Chris whispered.
James's face was pale. "How much did we just spend on tips?"
Chris shook his head, calculating. "At least one billion yuan."
James clutched his chest, his breaths shallow. "This… this isn't over."
Back on East 18th Street, Mike turned to Amelia, his voice soft. "You okay?"
Amelia, normally stoic, offered a small, grateful smile.
Reporters shoved microphones toward Mike. "Mr. Carter, any final thoughts on today's events?"
Mike chuckled lightly. "I'd like to thank my roommate Elliot for supporting the platform. It's gestures like his that really make our community thrive."
With that, Mike gently guided Amelia away, leaving the chaos—and the Millers' crumbling plans—in the dust.