King of Glory: My Resume Is Packed with MVPs

Wang Ming’s resume is probably the most outrageous one an HR manager has ever seen. Under education, he wrote “top-ranked jungler in the country”; under work experience, “pentakills in the kitchen, lane control on food deliveries, team-fight MVP at an electronics factory”; and under certificates, he listed a provincial Honor of Kings tournament award.

Raised on his father’s video games, he was crushing Bronze matches with Arthur at five and earning pocket money through account boosting at ten. He also accidentally bonded with the “Canyon Top Student System”: get a pentakill to earn a math formula, rank up to unlock English vocabulary. He somehow turned his gaming talent into a ticket to further education.

But graduation brought unemployment. An HR manager’s “We need a proper degree” kicked him straight into the real world’s jungle. He practiced precision by tossing food in a restaurant kitchen, recreated jungling rhythms along delivery routes, and turned the electronics factory assembly line into a team-fight arena. He played five-man queue with the head chef in exchange for washing fewer dishes, designed “order-taking tactics” for the delivery station and became its “jungler ace” dispatcher, then used Honor of Kings drafting strategies to optimize the production line until the factory manager chased him with a promotion.

Some people laughed that he was wasting his life on games, but he thought life was just one big MOBA: “Hiding in the jungle grass is keeping your cards close, defending towers from behind is perseverance, and going on a pentakill rampage is an explosive comeback.”

Later, he folded those experiences into game design. When “in-game currency = RMB” set the whole internet ablaze, the people who had once crossed his resume off finally understood: this wasn’t just gaming. He’d turned life into an MVP performance.