The End of the Install Era, the Forced Shift to RevShare, and $2.5 Million in Debt

The golden age of Mail.ru installs and the Amigo browser was wild. Affiliates were making insane money purely on traffic volume. But one day, everything came crashing down. Mail suddenly switched partners to a RevShare model, and that golden river of profit dried up in one moment.

Right in the middle of that chaos was Vladislav Umnitsyn, the founder of the ad network Kadam. His main offer died, leaving him with a massive base of publishers that no longer brought in a dime. But instead of giving up, he started looking for a new way to make money.

That’s when Vlad became one of the very first to spot the potential of push traffic — a raw, barely-understood format at the time. He retooled his entire network for it, rebuilt the business from scratch, and caught a brand-new wave just as everyone else was still sweeping up the wreckage from the install collapse.

What followed was… the purchase of Kadam, two brutal crises, the shutdown of more than 20 projects, and $2.5 million in personal debt. How he survived all that and kept his team alive, Vlad shared it all in the third episode of The Riddick Level podcast.

Vlad, you first discovered the affiliate industry when you were just 14. How did it all start, and what were you earning money from back then?

It was the second half of eighth grade. I was into computers, did some light coding, and one day just googled: ‘how to make money online.’ That’s how I stumbled onto forums where people were talking about SEO, doorway sites, and website monetization. Nobody even used the word ‘arbitrage’ yet, but SEO was already taking off, and I got hooked right away.

The first real money came from an MP3 website. The affiliate program provided a ready-to-use CMS and a full music catalog. All you had to do was set up the site and buy a few backlinks. Then came the New Year holidays, and the project blew up: I earned $500–700 a day. For a 14-year-old kid, that was mind-blowing.

But a couple of weeks later, traffic dropped, and I started hunting for new ideas, trying movie affiliate programs and other monetization models.

A bit later, I went to my first webmaster event, the Adults Summer Party. That’s when I really realized the industry was exciting, and I had this sense that you could grow here. The people were open-minded, and I felt that I wanted to be part of this world.

At what point did you realize you wanted to build real products? I think you once mentioned that back in 2009, you created your first ad network engine.

Yes, that’s right. I found an open-source ad network engine that had only one format — Clickunder, basically what pop ads are today. I was fascinated and built my first little network with a couple thousand in turnover. But it was my first real product, something other webmasters could actually use.

Later, together with my partner, we launched a new ad network with real volumes. The whole model was simple: buy traffic cheaply and monetize it through affiliate offers.

That’s when I first heard about RTB (Real-Time Bidding). I wanted to build a big network, but I didn’t have the resources or the knowledge yet. So we kept doing it old-school: popunders, banners, SMS marketing. The first solid money came from content locking, when files were hidden behind SMS subscriptions. Sounds ancient now, but back then, it made great profit.

“At that moment, I decided that first, I wanted to build an ad network. And second, I realized that my future was in services, products, and something else, not just in arbitrage.”

Then came the Mail.ru and Amigo era — the legendary time for affiliates. What models worked before installs took over?

Before the install era, everything revolved around distribution and affiliate programs. Then Mail.ru entered the game, and that changed everything. They had this super convenient model: a user downloaded an .exe file, and during installation, they were offered to install the Amigo browser, change their search engine, or set a new homepage.”

We already had our own traffic, so we just redirected it there. Growth happened instantly and the money shot up. It became clear we needed our own affiliate program. Around that time, I went to one of the most iconic industry parties of that decade — Crimea Party. Everyone from the industry was there. The vibe was insane: people were fired up, the first serious money was coming in, and the whole thing was turning into real business. 

When I got back, I told my partner, "Let’s build our own network, rent an office, hire people, and set up proper processes". But he didn’t go for it. He was scared we’d blow all our savings. So I offered to buy out his share. I don’t even remember the amount, but it was small. None of us could’ve guessed what it would grow into.

“People became much more money-driven. For them, it wasn’t just a hobby; it became their main source of income and a very large one.”

Then everything changed again: Mail.ru shut it all down, and the market collapsed. Many teams disappeared overnight. How did you get through that moment?

That was around 2017 or early 2018. A tough time. Google started tightening the rules, and many couldn’t handle it. We managed to hold out a bit longer: changed our model, stopped promoting bundles, and focused on advertising the final product (the browser). That bought us a couple of extra years.

Then Mail.ru launched a promo: double your traffic, and they’d double your payout. We squeezed every drop out of that opportunity, made great money, but it was the last bright flash before the end.

Soon after, Mail.ru announced everyone was moving to RevShare. We knew profits would crash, and they did. Payouts vanished, partners refused to switch, and we had to pivot fast: first moved our traffic to Yandex, then fully jumped into push ads. That’s how my collaboration with Kadam began.

In 2019, you made a big move — bought Kadam. What did you see in that network that others didn’t? And how did the team integration go?

Honestly, it started with an offer. But I knew this business inside out: how it worked, where the gaps were, and how it could grow several times over in a short period. Kadam was already a solid project, but I felt it was only using maybe thirty percent of its potential.

I won’t talk numbers, but at that time, ad networks were generally valued at one to two years of gross profit. It all depended on whether the product was growing, how strong the team and structure were. Kadam had all of that; it just needed scale.”

After the deal, we started integration. I met the whole team and, surprisingly, we barely lost anyone. Normally, after such takeovers, part of the staff leaves: someone was already planning to, someone’s unsure about new leadership. But here, almost everyone stayed. That gave us a huge boost. The team was motivated, and growth kicked in immediately.

Buying Kadam was probably the smartest and most timely move of my life. It marked my shift from arbitrage to the product world, where you build systems that run even when you're not there.

After that came the tough years: COVID, debts, 2022… How did you manage to keep both the business and the team afloat?

I guess that was payback for my youthful maximalism. By the time COVID hit, I had more than thirty active businesses: everything from restaurants and ad networks to startups and services. At first, it was chaos on the operations side.

We were constantly moving from one location to another until we finally rented a house in the woods and gathered the whole team there. We were heating it with firewood, setting up Slack, and trying to track down missing colleagues. Financially, the hit was heavy: debts went over $2.5 million, but I had Plan A, Plan B, and even Plan C. The main thing was to stay honest with partners and keep the course.

Psychologically, it was rough, but the team helped me stay standing. We focused on products with steady growth, shut down or sold the rest. By the end of the summer, there were fewer than ten directions left. I made myself a promise: every business must have a leader responsible for P&L (Profit and Loss). Anything that didn’t fit that rule had to go. But the products that survived became much stronger.

“My head was spinning from the sheer number of things happening, the multitude of businesses, and the numerous situations.”

These days, you often say that the team is the heart of the company. What does the right person at Kadam mean to you?

The team really is everything. We take hiring seriously. A few years ago, we even held a strategic session to define our People Policy: who we are, what kind of people we want to work with, and what values we build our business on.

For us, soft skills matter the most. You can always teach hard skills. But if a person is toxic, doesn’t share the goals, or can’t work in a team, no amount of expertise will save the situation. That’s why we do our best to make people feel comfortable, to make sure they understand where we’re heading and why.

Of course, professional competence is still a must. But if I have to choose between a toxic genius and a strong professional who truly lives the product and the team, I’ll always choose the second because only those kinds of people make a business sustainable.

How do you see the future of the industry: where is everything heading? And what keeps you personally motivated after all these years and all these crises?

If we talk about the industry’s future, I believe we’re heading toward a gradual but clear shift toward technology and product maturity. In performance marketing, the ones who survive are those who create real value: who build ecosystems, develop analytics, forecasting, anti-fraud systems, and automation.

As for personal drive, it’s still the team, and the very process of building something big. After all the crises, I realized one thing: when you’re creating a product that brings real value, and you can see how your decisions shape the industry, that’s stronger than any external motivation. That’s the real thrill.
Watch the full story of Vlad Umnitsyn in the third episode of The Riddick Level podcast.