Inside Myanmar's cyber scam syndicates: the dark reality behind the high-pay traps

In a vast compound deep in northern Myanmar, a network of cyber scam syndicates operates behind closed doors. Li Minghao (pseudonym) was one of the "employees" inside, manipulating cryptocurrency trading platforms to defraud victims of millions in seconds.

This is not a scene from crime thriller No More Bets – it's the real-life descent of countless young people who, lured by high salaries, found themselves trapped in cross-border cyber fraud.

As the fallout from Chinese actor Wang Xing rescued from cross-border traffickers, the case continues to stir public concern. China has intensified efforts to crack down on overseas scams.

Recently, a group of cyber fraud suspects were repatriated and sentenced.

Shanghai Law Journal reporters took the opportunity to visit a Shanghai prison, speaking with three convicted cyber scammers – including Li Minghao – who once operated within these Myanmar syndicates. Their firsthand accounts expose the chilling reality of the scam compounds.

The trap: high-pay promises leading to despair

"A monthly salary of tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands." That was the promise Li Minghao first heard. In 2020, fresh out of a job at an insurance company, a fellow villager introduced him to a "financial product sales" position in northern Myanmar, claiming it was lucrative and easy.

Despite his initial concerns about the region's reputation, the allure of high earnings swayed him.

"He said Myanmar had changed, that there were plenty of opportunities. I believed him."

But beneath this promise lay a well-crafted trap. Even with a college diploma, Li still fell into the web of deception and eventually became part of a large-scale cyber fraud operation.

Others were ensnared in similar ways. Zhang Bei and Wang Dong, both with only primary school education, stumbled upon an online job ad promising high daily earnings as livestream hosts in Yunnan.

"I thought it was real. But as soon as we got on the bus, we were taken straight to Myanmar," Zhang recalled, his voice filled with regret.

Hell on earth: the brutal life inside scam compounds

The moment they entered the compound, their freedom was gone. Passports and phones were confiscated, high walls and barbed wire loomed overhead, and armed guards patrolled 24/7.

Living conditions were grim – corrugated iron dorms that turned into ovens in summer and iceboxes in winter. Meals were barely edible: plain buns and porridge in the morning, a mix of minced meat and vegetables for lunch and dinner.

The youngest scammer in the compound was just 16 years old. Workdays stretched from 8am to 11pm, often extending until 3 or 4am, with no days off.

Failure to meet quotas resulted in severe punishments. Zhang Bei, who struggled to lure enough "clients," was forced to do 500 sit-ups until he collapsed. "Beatings were routine," he said.

The most terrifying punishment was the "water prison." Wang Dong recounted seeing a colleague locked in a submerged cage for 24 hours, with water reaching his nose. After 20 days, his body was swollen and covered in sores.

The business of deception: scripted lies and stolen lives

Under extreme pressure, Li, Zhang, and Wang became fraudsters themselves. Their daily task was to befriend victims on social media, posing as investors or single parents, and luring them into fake stock and crypto investments.

"We played different roles – successful businessmen, lonely single mothers," Wang said. They carefully crafted fake personas, using luxury car and watch photos stolen from the internet.

One of Wang's victims was a disabled man. Posing as a 35-year-old divorcee, Wang built trust and ultimately swindled him out of his life savings. Li, along with others, manipulated crypto price fluctuations to defraud victims of at least 10 million Yuan.

As their scams grew more elaborate, guilt faded, replaced by competition. "We had weekly performance reviews. Seeing colleagues pull off million-yuan scams made us envious," Wang admitted. Bonuses and commissions were openly listed – evidence that later sealed their convictions.

No escape: the cycle of abuse and forced labor

Escape was nearly impossible.

Surveillance cameras were everywhere, and even toilet visits were monitored. "I saw someone try to run. He was shot on the spot and beaten nearly to death," Zhang recalled, his body trembling.

The syndicates operated like a vast supply chain, buying and selling victims as forced labor.

Zhang was sold three times. Each transfer meant more abuse. The first sale, for 140,000 yuan ended with brutal punishment when he failed to meet quotas, leading to an emergency appendectomy.

"The second compound was even worse. If we didn't hit targets, we had to run for two hours. If we collapsed, we were beaten."

By the third time he was sold, Zhang had lost all hope. "I knew I couldn't escape. I just prayed to survive. I was even willing to lose a hand if it meant going back to China."

Rescue and redemption: facing justice

In 2023, as China intensified crackdowns on overseas cyber scams, Zhang, Wang, and others were finally rescued and repatriated. They were later sentenced for fraud – Li received 2 years and 9 months, Zhang 2 years, and Wang 2 years and 3 months.

"Back home, I no longer have to live in fear," Zhang said. In prison, they are undergoing rehabilitation and reflecting on their crimes.

Prison officials emphasized the deceptive nature of cyber fraud: "Because scammers never meet victims face-to-face, they often don't grasp the true harm of their actions. We are working to change that, ensuring they fully acknowledge their crimes and commit to reform."

Looking ahead, Zhang and Wang hope to turn their lives around. "I want to learn a skill and make an honest living for my family. I owe them that," Zhang said.

(All names in this article are pseudonyms.)