đ˘đź Welcome to the office where the coffee is stress-flavored
Mad CEO: Income We Trust drops you into the role of a boss with a dangerous combination of ambition and zero chill. Youâre not playing a âgentle entrepreneurâ story where everything grows neatly with inspirational music in the background. This is a satirical business simulator that runs on clicks, upgrades, and the constant temptation to turn a shaky little startup into a money-printing monster. The first seconds feel simple: you earn cash, you invest it, you watch numbers rise. Then the game starts doing what the best idle tycoon games do: it whispers that youâre only one smart purchase away from exponential growth, and suddenly youâre staring at income-per-second like itâs the meaning of life.
It has that classic incremental vibe where progress feels small and then abruptly stops being small. One minute youâre scraping together enough cash to hire a basic worker. The next minute youâre chaining upgrades, firing off boosts, and turning your company into a loud machine that never sleeps. On Kiz10, itâs the perfect âquick sessionâ trap, because every return gives you a new goal: another hire, another upgrade tier, another milestone that makes you feel like your empire is actually evolving.
đąď¸đ¸ The click that starts the addiction
At the core, Mad CEO is an idle clicker. That means your finger (or mouse) is your first investor. Click to earn. Click to speed it up. Click to push through the early grind, then start building systems so you donât have to click forever. Itâs satisfying in the simplest way possible: you do something tiny and the game rewards you instantly. But itâs also sneaky, because the rewards scale. A small upgrade doesnât just give you more money, it gives you momentum, and momentum changes how you think.
You stop asking âhow do I earn money?â and start asking âhow do I earn money faster than my last fastest?â Thatâs when the game turns into an optimization loop. Youâll buy something, see the income jump, then immediately wonder what the next jump looks like. And because the game keeps dangling the next tier in front of you, you keep pushing.
đĽđ Hiring people, upgrading them, and pretending youâre calm
The real flavor comes from the employee side. Youâre building a team, improving their productivity, and expanding your operations step by step. In a normal life, managing a company is complicated, messy, full of meetings that could have been emails. In this game, itâs gloriously simplified into what your brain secretly wants: clear upgrades, measurable output, and a straight line between decision and profit.
Youâll hire different workers, invest in better equipment or productivity boosts, and watch the company speed up. Every new hire feels like unlocking a new gear. Every improvement feels like you tightened a bolt on the machine. The âCEO fantasyâ here isnât about wearing a suit. Itâs about control. The ability to say âmoreâ and see âmoreâ happen.
And yes, itâs intentionally over-the-top. It plays with the idea of a âmadâ boss, so the tone is exaggerated, like a cartoon of corporate ambition where everything is about output and money. That exaggeration is what makes it fun instead of dry. Itâs not asking you to be realistic. Itâs asking you to be greedy in a playful, gamey way.
đĽđ§ The real game is choosing what to upgrade first
Youâll constantly face the same delicious problem: you canât buy everything at once. So whatâs the smartest move right now? Boost clicking power for quick bursts? Improve worker productivity for steady passive income? Unlock the next employee type because the scaling is better? Save for a bigger upgrade that changes the whole pace? The game keeps these options close together so you always feel tempted.
This is where you start developing âtycoon instincts.â You begin to spot bottlenecks. If your manual clicks are doing most of the work, youâre still early. If your workers are carrying you, youâre entering the real idle zone. If your income is climbing but purchases feel slow, you probably need a multiplier or a new tier that breaks the current ceiling. It sounds like boring math, but it doesnât feel boring when the numbers react instantly.
And the best part is the little mental drama. Youâll hover over a purchase and think, I should save. Then youâll see a cheaper upgrade and think, but I could buy that now. Then youâll buy it, feel good for two seconds, and immediately realize you delayed the bigger upgrade. The game doesnât punish you harshly for that, but it teaches you what impatience costs, and that lesson makes your next decision sharper.
đđ Selling the company and starting over, but faster
One of the most satisfying mechanics in this style of business incremental game is the âreset with benefitsâ loop. You build the company up, reach a high point, then sell it and start a new venture with advantages carried forward. Itâs the business version of prestige: you donât reset because you failed, you reset because you outgrew the current pace and you want the next run to be more powerful.
That loop is where Mad CEO becomes dangerously replayable. Starting over doesnât feel like losing progress, it feels like upgrading your entire timeline. You begin again, but now you know what to buy, when to buy it, how to avoid early waste, how to rush the good upgrades. Your second run feels smoother. Your third run feels like domination. And the game keeps rewarding that mastery by letting you climb higher, faster, and with bigger numbers.
It creates a fun sense of âCEO evolution.â Your first company is a messy experiment. Your next company is a strategy. Your next company is a machine.
đđ° The âIncome we trustâ mindset (and why it works)
The phrase in the title isnât just a joke, itâs basically the rule of the game. Trust the income. Trust the compounding. Trust that spending money is how you make money. The fastest way to feel stuck is to hoard cash like itâs a trophy. In Mad CEO, cash is fuel. You burn it into upgrades, employees, and improvements, and the burn creates a bigger fire.
Thatâs why the game feels so satisfying when it clicks. You stop thinking of purchases as âexpensive.â You start thinking of them as âtime savers.â If an upgrade shortens the time to your next big purchase, itâs usually worth it. If a new hire increases your baseline income enough to make everything else cheaper in practice, itâs usually worth it. You begin to treat the economy like a puzzle: how do I turn todayâs money into tomorrowâs acceleration?
đ§Šđšď¸ How to play smarter without turning it into homework
If you want a smoother climb, focus on one simple habit: upgrade the thing thatâs currently limiting your speed. When clicking is your main income, boost clicking and early efficiency. When workers become your main income, prioritize their productivity and anything that multiplies passive gains. When the game starts offering âbigger tierâ employees or major scaling jumps, aim for those, because they often turn slow growth into fast growth.
Also, donât buy upgrades just because theyâre available. Thatâs the classic idle-game trap. It feels good to spend, but spending without a plan creates a slow, choppy climb. Instead, buy in waves: grab a few efficient upgrades, then save for a bigger break-through purchase. That rhythm keeps momentum without delaying your major jumps.
And most importantly, enjoy the absurdity. Mad CEO is built to feel a little unhinged, a little satirical, a little âI canât believe Iâm optimizing an imaginary office like this.â Thatâs the charm. Itâs a business management game that turns numbers into drama, upgrades into dopamines, and your own greed into the most reliable engine on the screen.
