When Grand Theft Auto Online first launched, my go-to method for earning cash was endlessly grinding the “American Cycle” bicycle race. You might recognize it – it’s that big loop route near the downtown Los Santos construction site. Funny enough, I now own a penthouse condo right there, practically next door to the headquarters of my in-game corporation, Whole Cannoli Enterprises. It’s a surreal upgrade to be swimming in virtual wealth, a far cry from those days of constant pedaling.
Back when a nine-figure bank balance was just a pipe dream, my crew and I crunched the numbers and figured out that “American Cycle” offered the best hourly income in GTA Online. So, instead of the usual criminal activities like heists or building empires, we were bike racers. We’d rake in about $5,000 every three minutes, loading screens included. It was a monotonous grind, but it kept us funded for in-game luxuries like bullets and, let’s say, other forms of entertainment. At least we were virtually building up our leg muscles.
Nowadays, that kind of digital exertion is a distant memory. It’s a story I occasionally recall while lounging on my virtual gold-plated yacht or sipping champagne in a helicopter, browsing the web on my in-game phone.
Grand Theft Auto V loading screen showcasing the game's aesthetic
This isn’t because I’ve bought a mountain of Shark Cards, Rockstar’s infamous micro-transaction system for GTA V. The virtual fortune that fueled this lavish lifestyle literally rained down from the sky one night as I was casually sniping players off Del Perro Pier. In mere moments, I became a millionaire, all thanks to a hacker with the handle “Crip”.
Having digital bags of cash materialize into your bank account is quite the conversation starter. When it happened, I immediately approached my benefactor, a striking blonde avatar in a sharp business suit, and started asking questions.
“I decided to see how easy it would be to add money to my online character. It turns out that it’s super easy.” – GTA Online player “Crip”
Crip is a modder who, like many aspiring GTA Online kingpins, had hit a wall of frustration. She yearned for the GTA Online experience that was promised before launch: a dynamic crime simulator, not an endless cycle race. Shark Cards felt like a barrier to truly enjoying the game and its freedom. So, she transformed into a money dropper, a “GTA giver,” providing in-game cash to other players at a fraction of the cost of Shark Cards.
“I realized I wasn’t playing for fun anymore, or even enjoying myself,” she explained as she conjured a neon-lit sports car out of thin air. “I was just repeating the highest-paying jobs over and over, grinding for a week to make a million bucks. But I know this game and its engine inside and out. So, I decided to see just how easy it was to inject money into my online character. Turns out, it’s ridiculously easy.”
The digital money bags ceased their descent upon my head. “Get in,” she instructed, gesturing towards the newly spawned sports car. “I’ll make it worth your time.” My bank balance had swollen by approximately $50 million in just two minutes. I hopped in.
Animated GIF of a car taking off and flying in Grand Theft Auto Online
The car ascended from the ground, and we were soon soaring across the map to another beach, where around half a dozen other players were patiently assembled in a semi-circle. Upon landing, Crip got straight to business.
“Okay, listen up, do not deposit this money into your bank immediately. Spend it slowly, like $10-15 million a day, max.” Her virtual high heels sank slightly into the sand as she moved through the small crowd, wielding a battle-axe. “Is everyone ready?” A chorus of virtual affirmations followed, and then it began again: more money raining from the digital heavens.
I continued the conversation as she circled the newly minted millionaires. What motivated this? Was this some kind of elaborate sales pitch? A free sample?
“Kind of. Sometimes I just drop cash on random players because I’m bored, but the real business started when I saw so many people complaining about the game being such a grind. I thought, ‘What could I do to fix that?’”
The cash flow stopped once more, and the group collectively groaned in mock disappointment. My bank account now read close to $90 million. This was wealth that would have taken days of “American Cycle” races to accumulate.
“I have been fighting depression my whole life, and giving away cash was the best antidepressant ever. People are genuinely thankful and happy.” — “Crip”
“If you want more, reach out to me, and we can set up $100 million drops for $10 via PayPal,” Crip announced. Half the group thanked her and scattered into the virtual city, ready to spend their newfound riches. Some were already glued to their in-game phones, purchasing properties and excitedly chatting about their sudden wealth. I told her I didn’t need the cash; I was simply curious about her operation.
After removing a few players from the lobby, she invited the next wave of customers from her queue, and the money bags started falling again. Even on me, a non-paying observer. The whole operation was remarkably efficient and surprisingly altruistic. Could she truly be a digital Robin Hood, making a living by giving away virtual wealth?
“A few months ago, my partner was between jobs, and we were going to be short on real-world cash that month. People had always offered to donate to me, but I always refused. But then, we actually needed the money, so I made a post on Reddit offering $100 million in GTA Online cash for a $10 donation.” She walked towards the water’s edge. Behind her, her customers were virtually dancing in the digital downpour of money.
Animated GIF of players dancing in the rain of money in Grand Theft Auto Online
“At the time, other sellers were charging $40-60 for $100 million in-game cash, so I instantly got flooded with requests,” Crip explained. “Way more than I anticipated. It just blew up. I brought on a partner in the UK so we could basically provide drops 24/7. I developed an organizational system to manage it all, and it’s been incredibly smooth ever since.”
Eventually, the money flow ceased, and Crip swapped out her customers once again. All business, she continued her story with surprising openness.
“I’ve battled depression my entire life, and giving away this cash has been the best antidepressant I’ve ever found. People are so grateful and happy. It made me feel incredible to eliminate the grind and unlock the fun for people.”
I asked if she felt any guilt about undercutting Rockstar, the creators of the game she clearly enjoyed. “They’ve made over half a billion dollars on Shark Cards, so no, I don’t feel bad about taking away some of their sales. Most of the people who pay me would never consider spending $100 for a measly $8 million in-game. That’s just insane. I offer $100 million for $10, which would cost $1,250 in Shark Cards!”
Screenshot of Grand Theft Auto Online gameplay with character standing on a beach
I questioned some of the new millionaires about their decision to pursue this shortcut to virtual wealth. Most seemed young, mentioning they lacked credit cards. One player explained the difficulty of buying Shark Cards outside of the US, before abruptly being cut down by a hail of gunfire.
Suddenly, avatars began dropping as gunfire erupted around us. Some blindly returned fire as the bags of cash continued to pile up on the beach. It made sense, I realized, as a bullet grazed my virtual skull: with this much free money floating around, rival gangs and opportunistic lone wolves would inevitably try to grab their share without paying the money dropper. Bags worth $39,999 were scattered across the sand, ripe for the taking.
Crip tanked approximately 50 shots to the chest before the shooting stopped. “Okay, I kicked them,” she announced. Virtual blood stained the front of her digital blouse. There was a brief pause in our conversation as the recently deceased respawned and regrouped, then we were instantly teleported south, near the pier, and the money started raining again.
Animated GIF of money bags falling from the sky in Grand Theft Auto Online
I asked if these attacks were a frequent occurrence.
“I’ve been hit with DDoS and Smurf attacks in the past, likely from rival sellers or just incredibly bored individuals. When someone messes with me, attacks me, or just generally irritates me, the first thing I do is research. Everyone lives online these days. In just a few hours, I can uncover their entire life story. Often, it’s a sad story.”
“More often than not, during that research phase, I get to know them so well and see them as a real person, that I decide to just stop there and let it go. I discover they have a terrible family life, or are deeply depressed, or whatever it might be. They become more human to me than just the brief interaction that initially annoyed me, you know? It never feels good to retaliate. When I’m angry, I’d rather jump on r/gtagivers and just give away a ton of money, you know? It always lifts my spirits.”
So, you see yourself as the good guy in Grand Theft Auto Online?
“Yeah, pretty much. Everyone gets so caught up in the grind to get that new car or office that they lose sight of what the game should be about. I like to bring that back and unlock the fun for people. I enjoy the feeling of giving to people, and, well, I did need a few extra bucks myself.”
She laughed. Then, as abruptly as they began, the money bags stopped falling for the final time, and Crip rode off into the virtual city on the back of a deer. I pulled out my in-game phone and bought some new property. Maybe I’d even take a cheeky look at those helicopters while I was at it.
